#time and he wouldn’t if it wasn’t a tool he needed to interact with BUT it’s still socialization and it’s getting him in touch with his

[damnfeelings09]

DNA - Shadow's version

A.N: Hey! just so you know, this is pt. 2 of E.T

“Does he tell you he loves you when you least expect it? Does he flutter your heart when he kisses your neck?”

They had approved Shadow for field missions. The presentation at the HAR training center and the fact that he had healed so quickly had convinced Commander Hillsprung that it was time to explore his abilities. The first mission was merely for reconnaissance. They would send Shadow to Prison Island, the GUN research cradle that had been destroyed years ago, or at least that’s what they thought until they started receiving signs of life two weeks ago. You were happy; Shadow wouldn’t be locked up in those four walls 24/7 anymore, but that also meant you wouldn’t see him anymore. Your role in the investigation was complete, and your services were no longer needed. Now, they would focus solely on military training.

“and my heart won't beat again If I can't feel him in my veins” A month had passed since the last interaction you had with Shadow, the memory of his kiss still fresh in your mind. How you managed to attend, check patients, clear medical records, and keep the GUN clinic’s inventory was still a mystery to you. You’d only crossed paths with the hedgehog twice.

“And he just takes my breath away B-b-b-breath away I feel it every day And that's what makes a man Not hard to understand”

The first time was when you were on your way to the clinic after registering your entry. Shadow was walking with a group of soldiers, a bat named Rouge, and a giant robot. For a second, he looked at you, stopped as if he wanted to walk towards you, but his companions called him to leave the building. Oh how you wished he had come and get you. It was inexplicable what he caused in you, a feeling so foreign.

“Nothing more to say It's in his D-D-D-D-DNA”

The second time was when you were having lunch, sitting in the GUN garden while reviewing the Gamma team's follow-up studies. He walked right in front of you, not paying attention to you. You wouldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, but what else did you expect? Now Shadow was a GUN agent, and there was no time for anything else. Still, how would you explain to your body what was happening? How could you make it understand that you weren’t in danger and stop the tachycardia before your heart ran out of your chest after him? It didn’t make sense. You had only kissed once, so why couldn’t you forget it?

“Fingerprints that leave me covered for days, yeah, hey, yeah Now I don't have any first degree But I know, what he does to me”

Friday night, you were finishing the paperwork for the week. The fatigue and stress were killing your shoulders, and you were ready to go home. You turned off the light in the office and were about to close the door when a loud noise made you open it again. There was a mess; your stationery shelf was on the floor, and surgical clamps were scattered everywhere. You followed the trail of chaos and found the black hedgehog leaning on the examination table, with one of his hands covering his left arm.

“What the heck… Shadow?”

“I’m glad to see you too, doc”. Shadow looked tired, dust all over his fur. He glanced behind you, acknowledging the mess he had made “Sorry”. he said, shaking his head toward the papers on the floor.

“What happened?” you asked, approaching slowly, moving cautiously as if you feared breaking something fragile, but at the same time, you didn’t want to pull away from him. You knew what that small gesture of closeness meant for both of you, and although you tried to stay professional, you couldn’t help but feel the proximity between you two as something more “Weren’t you supposed to be on a mission?”

“Tch, ‘ve been in Prison Island, for three days. It wasn’t my best moment, I must admit, I underestimated the area.” – He removed his hand, revealing an arrowhead embedded in his flesh. You quickly asked him to get on the table while you gathered the necessary tools to remove the object.

Although Shadow wasn’t bleeding, he wasn’t regenerating as he usually did either. You took the Kelly clamps and carefully removed each piece of the material, placing it in a jar for reaserch. You could feel his intense gaze on each of your movements, his warm breath making your bangs fall over your eyes. Your hands trembled as you remembered the last time you both had been so close. Trying to shake those thoughts from your mind, you looked up, only to find his pure red eyes staring at you, examining you.

“Perfect in every way I see it in his face Nothing more to say”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said, looking away to return to your task of bandaging the wound. “I’ve seen you, even with your eyes covered and hands behind your back, you can feel danger from miles away.” Shadow sighed, turning his face toward the wall. “I did it for you. I wanted to see you.” Your heart skipped a beat, almost dropping the extra gauze in your hands. Shadow’s hand gently positioned itself under your chin, lifting your face so your eyes met. With every passing second, your cheeks felt hotter and hotter.

“It's all about his kiss Contaminates my lips”

“I missed you,” Shadow said. His voice as soft as velvet, enveloping your ears in a delightful way. At that moment, it felt as though the world had stopped existing, like a bubble surrounding you both, a little world where it was true that the ultimate lifeform, had fall for you. The glow in his eyes was hypnotizing as they moved from your eyes to your lips over and over again. Oh, how you wished he would take the first step, that he would press his lips to yours once again. You longed for the sensation, the pressure of his lips on yours. Shadow had the power to make your legs turn to jelly with just a glance, and how you loved it when he looked at you. The hedgehog slightly curved the corner of his lips, probably reading your thoughts, slowly getting closer to you, shortening the distance between you more and more. In a moment of clarity, you pulled away from him.

“Our energy connects It's simple genetics”

“Wait,” you said. – “This can’t be. We are… coworkers. If anyone finds out about this, all of GUN will come after us.” You lowered your gaze, a silent tear running down your right cheek. Shadow stood up from the table, now a bit taller than you. He grabbed your shoulders and faced you. “To hell with GUN and the planet. Nothing matters if you’re not with me.” His voice was fierce, the fire lighting up his eyes. It was then that you stopped resisting the desire of your heart and gave in to him. Shadow initiated the contact, placing his lips on yours.

“I'm the X to his Y It's the color of his eyes”

You had never been struck by lightning, but you were pretty sure this was what it felt like. Thousands of volts instantly running through every inch of your body as Shadow wrapped his arms around your waist. Your hands searching for the crook of his neck deepening the kiss. A warm sensation like tingling crossing your fingers. Orange sparks coming out of Shadow's quills, small electric currents making their way through his fur looking for a home.

“He can do no wrong No, he don't need to try” His tongue breaking through your lips, linking with yours, starting a battle you could not win. It was intense, both trying to devour each other's mouth. His grip becoming stronger at your waist, you could feel the vibrations of his body with the little moans that Shadow released. The ecstasy of the moment only equated to the energy accumulating between you, going from being soft, light and warm to a stronger discharge, a feeling that did not cause damage, but if it activated every fiber of your being, as if all you needed to live was this… was him. Little by little strands of your hair were lifted thanks to the static between you. The tips of your fingers curving inwards product of electricity.

The lack of air causes you to pull away from him, taking a deep breath, gasping, feeling the relief fill your lungs. You watch him, his quills raised, the reddish tips glowing under the light of the lamp. How can he look even more handsome like this? A few seconds later, Shadow is once again devouring your lips, your chest hitting against his firm one, holding you, the cold of his inhibition rings sneaking down your back. His canines fit gently into your lower lip causing a groan on your part, and a growl makes Shadow’s chest vibrate

“Made from the best He passes all the tests”

Suddenly, the tips of your fingers burn, the stings causing small burns, your heart races uncontrollably, and you could swear it will stop at any moment, but it wouldn’t matter if you died of a heart attack in the middle of the kiss.

“Got my heart beating fast It's cardiac arrest”

It was too much, the emotions, the beating of your hearts, the taste of your lips. Shadow’s  spikes channeled all that energy, illuminating his body with a reddish-orange hue like the sunset, the pressure accumulating in the air. In a second, a spark flashes, the atmosphere seems to compress, as if everything were about to break. Then, a blinding flash lights up the surroundings, and the sound of the explosion is deafening. The reddish light overflows, sweeping everything in its path, each of the lights in the office exploding, leaving the entire city in darkness.

“What the hell…? Did you do that?” you ask incredulously to the hedgehog who has you trapped in his arms.

“Well, you made me,” he whispers. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you knew, from the tone of his voice, that a big, mocking, triumphant smile was spreading across his face.

“He's from a different strain That science can't explain I guess that's how he's made In his D-D-D-DNA”

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked.

We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

You Should Have Run Away

✰ summary: once upon a time, in the bustling streets of shibuya, there lived a beautiful mafia princess who had angered her brother greatly. no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake off her brother’s overprotective grip. frustrated and seeking revenge, the princess decided to venture into the forbidden territory of shinjuku. when the princess stepped into the lair of the evil king, it was impossible for her not to catch his attention. to her, using her brother’s greatest enemy as a tool for revenge seemed like a brilliant idea. but once the beast wanted something, it became his. in the end, the beast would make sure the princess paid the price for daring to enter forbidden territory.

✰ pairing: rival mafia boss!sukuna x mafia princess fem!reader

✰ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 mafia au, mentioning of beating, mentioning of sex, gojo as a protective brother, use of mature language, use of alcohol, eventual smut, neck kissing and sucking, sukuna calls reader “miss gojo” and “brat”, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, sukuna has a definitely heels fetish, little teasing, big dick alert!!!!!, unprotected sex, possesive behaviours, creampie, sukuna hates gojo lol

✰ word count: 5.4k

✰ a little note: while i’ve started reading mafia romance books again, it wouldn’t feel right not to write something like this. enjoy!

“This was your last chance, and you used it, princess,” your brother yelled at you furiously.

“Fuck off, Toru! Just because I slept with someone doesn’t mean you can beat him half to death and then force him to grovel at my feet to apologize,” you snapped back, your tone far angrier than his.

Your brother’s increasingly overprotective behavior was becoming unbearable. Fine, maybe he was about to take over an important clan, and sure, given the dirty work he handled, he knew how manipulative and dangerous people could be.

Satoru Gojo wasn’t a bad person—at least not when it came to his family. But if someone disrespected the clan? No one wanted to see his bad side. And if they wanted something even worse than that, all they had to do was mess with you.

“Go to your room, princess. I don’t even want to see you step outside for the next two weeks. If you need something, tell Yuji to get it for you. But you’re not setting foot out of this house. Understood?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Don’t test me, princess. You know the rules—anyone who dares to touch you faces a fate worse than death.” His eyes were bloodshot. He must not have slept all night, and finding out about your little escapade had probably wiped any chance of sleep from his mind.

Screw this. Enough was enough. You were perfectly capable of seeing whoever you wanted. If someone tried to use you, you’d know. After all, the whole “Six Eyes” thing, which basically meant knowing and seeing everything, wasn’t exclusive to your brother. But still, the bastard refused to believe you could protect yourself.

“How long are you planning to keep protecting me, Gojo Satoru? Until I’m dead? I’ll be with whoever I want—” Your words cut off as your brother shot you a deadly glare. You usually chose to fight back in situations like this, but Satoru, with his anger and lack of sleep, might very well set the house on fire.

“Go to your room. Now.” He didn’t shout, but the tone of his voice made it clear you shouldn’t push him any further.

“Fuck you, Gojo Satoru.” With that, you turned toward the stairs and headed to your room.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you began pacing back and forth, your anger boiling over. Did he really think you wouldn’t leave the house? You weren’t his precious little princess. And he wasn’t even officially the head of the clan yet. Sure, he ran most of the operations since your father had grown old, but the final word still belonged to your father.

Your pacing came to a halt when your phone buzzed with incoming messages.

𓉘22:32𓉝 Nobara: holy shit i just saw your message so your brother found out huh?

𓉘22:32𓉝 Nobara: honestly the only thing i can say about that guy is that satoru gojo’s gonna kill him

𓉘22:33𓉝 Nobara: if not he’ll probably do something worse

Nobara was right. Unfortunately, your brother had already made the guy wish he were dead.

𓉘22:33𓉝 You: i wish he’d just killed him

𓉘22:33𓉝 You: oh and guess what? i’m grounded for two weeks can’t leave the house

𓉘22:33𓉝 Nobara: if I know you there’s no way you’re staying put

𓉘22:33𓉝 Nobara: wanna do something fun?

You? Of course, you wanted to. Especially right now.

𓉘22:34𓉝 You: what's on your mind?

𓉘22:34𓉝 Nobara: there’s a party in shinjuku

𓉘22:34𓉝 Nobara: you know where

Shit. Unfortunately you knew. Everyone knew about Malevolent Shrine. And everyone knew what went down at the parties there. That club was pure chaos—exclusive and dripping with danger. Just like its owner.

Shinjuku was off-limits for you. Actually, it was off-limits for anyone from your clan. That wasn’t your territory. Worse, the owner, Ryomen Sukuna, was your family’s sworn enemy. His empire ruled Shinjuku, and he was the Evil King.

Sukuna was the kind of man no one should mess with. Especially not you.

You could never go there. For one, you’d die—not by your brother’s hands but Sukuna’s. The moment you stepped foot in Shinjuku, his men would put a bullet in your head. And if you somehow made it to the club, the security would handle the rest.

𓉘22:35𓉝 You: you know i can’t go there

𓉘22:35𓉝 Nobara: chicken

𓉘22:35𓉝 Nobara: name a better way to get back at your brother?

𓉘22:36𓉝 You: girl are you insane? the second i step foot there i’m dead meat

𓉘22:36𓉝 Nobara: chicken

𓉘22:36𓉝 You: stop calling me that

𓉘22:36𓉝 Nobara: i’m not stopping until you say yes

𓉘22:36𓉝 Nobara: chicken chicken chicken

This girl was crazy. Watching the string of “chicken” messages fill your screen, you considered her plan. You were furious with your brother. You didn’t want him to protect you forever. You were a grown woman who had every right to be with whoever you wanted. No one could dare talk about a woman’s “honor” like it was their business.

You were so sick of men.

The messages on your screen had already hit 20. Were you really going to stay home like a scared little chicken? Or were you going to be the mafia princess who didn’t care about the danger?

Screw it. There wasn’t a single drop of cowardice in Gojo blood.

𓉘22:38𓉝 Nobara: chicken

𓉘22:38𓉝 Nobara: fuck my fingers are cramping but i'm not stopping

𓉘22:38𓉝 Nobara: chicken

𓉘22:38𓉝 You: i’ll be at your place in thirty

𓉘22:39𓉝 You: my brother’s probably too busy at our club blowing off steam and fucking someone to notice

𓉘22:39𓉝 You: also yuuji owes me a favor

𓉘22:39𓉝 You: but yuuji can’t drive us there you know they’d recognize the car

𓉘22:39𓉝 Nobara: i knew you weren’t a chicken 😘

𓉘22:39𓉝 Nobara: wear that gold dress

𓉘22:39𓉝 Nobara: we’re stealing all the attention tonight 💃

Shutting off your phone, you walked to your closet and pulled out the gold mini-dress you’d just bought from Rabanne. As you held it up, a sly smile spread across your face.

There was no way you wouldn’t get noticed in this.

“I hate you, you know that, right?” Yuuji said, glancing at you through the rearview mirror as he drove.

“You owed me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t, but this wasn’t what I had in mind.” In a high-pitched, comical voice, he added, “I didn’t know my debt was death!”

When you hurriedly got ready and came downstairs, as expected, your brother wasn’t home. Yuuji was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. When he heard the sound of your heels clicking, he turned his head toward you, and the look on his face wasn’t a good sign. The sight of you in 10 cm heels and a sparkling gold dress could only mean trouble.

As you checked your lipstick in a small mirror, you said, “Don’t worry. My brother will drink himself into oblivion and fuck someone senseless tonight. It’s the perfect time to teach him a lesson.”

“Even if you threatened to tattle to Papa Gojo, I still shouldn’t be doing this. But damn it, your dad is even scarier.”

Your brother could definitely be terrifying, but the person who made him that way was your father. If what you wanted wasn’t done, your father wouldn’t hesitate to put bullets through anyone.

Of course, if your father knew you were heading to enemy territory in Shinjuku right now, things would turn out very differently.

Ten minutes later, when Yuuji stopped in front of Nobara’s house, you planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Nobara said she called an Uber. That must be the car in front. Thanks for the ride.”

Just as you were about to step out, Yuuji grabbed your arm. When you turned to look at him, you saw the worry etched on his face. “This clears my debt. If anyone asks you, I didn’t bring you here, okay? Also…” He took a deep breath. “If anything happens, you call me. Immediately.”

“You’ve got it.” You smiled to ease his concern and stepped out of the car. As soon as you approached the idling car with its lights on, you peered through the window to see Nobara. The moment you spotted her, you opened the door and got in.

“God, it’s freezing out there.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Holy shit, that dress is incredible.” Nobara whistled, giving you an approving once-over.

“We have to make this night worth it, don’t we?” you said, a sly grin spreading across your face. Both of you laughed, and during the drive to the club, you recounted every infuriating thing your brother had done lately.

When the Uber driver announced you’d arrived, you looked at the black building bathed in red lights. If you were to paint a picture of hell, this would probably be it.

You were officially in forbidden territory. Maybe threatening Yuuji by dangling your father over his head hadn’t been the best idea. Going back home and curling up in your warm bed suddenly seemed a lot more appealing. But Gojo Satoru had asked for this, and as his little sister, you were going to push it further.

The guards at the entrance immediately shot you suspicious looks, their brows furrowed as if asking, What the hell are you doing here? It must have surprised them to see anyone from the Gojo clan walk into this place so boldly.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I hope there’s room for two lovely ladies tonight?” With a sweet tone and an even sweeter smile, you asked the towering guards as if everything was perfectly normal.

“Go home,” one of the guards said, his stern expression unchanging.

“But who stays home on a Friday night, right, Nobara?” Your friend chuckled in agreement.

“If you don’t want the boss to blow your head off, go back where you came from.” The guard’s tone suggested he knew exactly how this would end.

You weren’t leaving. Whatever lie you had to tell to get inside, you’d say it.

“I hate to break it to you, buddy, but your famous boss invited us here tonight.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The guard on the left stepped toward you angrily, but the other stopped him with an arm and turned to you. “The boss invited you?”

“Yep. Apparently, there’s at least one Gojo he doesn’t hate.” You had no idea what you were saying, but you rolled with it.

The guard stared at you and Nobara for a moment before finally stepping aside. “Tell the bartender inside you’re special guests. They’ll direct you where to go. Enjoy your evening, Miss Gojo.”

Well, that lie had actually worked.

“Thank you, sir.” Hooking your arm through Nobara’s, you hurried inside. The moment you stepped into the club, you realized it was even more hellish than it looked from the outside.

First, it was boiling hot—a relief, given how freezing it had been outside. Second, the place was all black and red. No matter where you looked, there wasn’t a hint of any other color. When you told the bartender what the guard had said, they led you to a quiet lounge upstairs. While the club itself was luxurious, this space was something else entirely. There weren’t many people—just a few men you assumed were businessmen, an actor you’d seen in an action movie, and two women hanging off his arms.

As you sank into the plush leather seats, Nobara turned to you. “I think this place lives up to the hype.”

Leaning back, you replied, “Seems like it. So, where are these infamous sex parties?”

Nobara laughed. “Probably in some hidden area. You know, like in the movies where you go through a secret passage.”

That was likely true. Based on what you’d heard about Sukuna, the man probably designed this place like a maze.

When the waiter arrived with a bottle of champagne and two glasses, he said, “A gift from the boss, Miss Gojo.”

Sukuna knew. Not that you hadn’t expected this. The guards must have informed him the second you walked in. Honestly, you’d assumed they’d tell him when you’d first started lying.

“Please send our thanks to the boss,” you said with a bright smile, taking the glasses the waiter had filled. You handed one to Nobara, and the two of you clinked your glasses before sipping the expensive, delicious champagne.

“Why don’t we finish this and hit the dance floor?” you suggested, the mix of alcohol, music, and the lingering fear of Sukuna making your adrenaline spike.

Nobara grinned, clinking her glass against yours again before downing the rest of her champagne. Then she poured herself another glass.

If you had to guess, the two of you would finish the entire bottle within fifteen minutes.

I guess you were wrong with your predictions because you and Nobara finished that bottle in just ten minutes. You had no idea how you managed it so fast, but you drank it like it was water while talking. Anytime you were with Nobara, there wasn’t a single moment that wasn’t fun. She was one of those people who made time fly without you realizing it.

With the rhythm of the song pulsing through you, you ground your hips against the man behind you, feeling the hardness growing against your back. You weren’t drunk—sure, you’d downed that massive bottle in ten minutes, but it was just champagne. You’d had far heavier nights, and your tolerance was nothing to scoff at.

“You know how to dance,” the man murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

“It’s what I’m best at,” you replied, your tone just as flirtatious.

“I’m sure there’s something you’re even better at,” he whispered, and his hands slowly slid lower, brushing against your hips. You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Maybe,” you teased.

The truth was, you had no intention of sleeping with this guy. Sure, it would’ve been a great way to stir up even more trouble, but your focus wasn’t on him. It was on the crimson-eyed devil who hadn’t taken his eyes off you from the upper floor.

From the moment you stepped onto the dance floor with Nobara, you felt someone watching you. A few minutes later, when your gaze drifted upward, it wasn’t hard to figure out who it was. Sukuna, leaning casually against the railing with a glass of whiskey in hand, was watching your every move.

Every sway of your hips, every time you brushed your damp hair back, every teasing grind against the men who approached you—he didn’t miss a single second of it.

You wanted to create a scene, but only for him.

There was no denying his handsomeness. Even though you’d never seen him in person before tonight, it was clear he was mesmerizing, even from a distance. As you danced, you realized why your brother had kept you far away from him all these years. If you had ever seen this man before, you, like everyone else, would’ve wanted him to ruin you. Even knowing the danger he posed.

He might just be the only bad boy you’d ever want to destroy you. But calling Sukuna a “boy” was an insult. Ryomen Sukuna was a “man” in every sense of the word.

When your partner’s hands drifted lower, you pressed them down, urging him to squeeze your hips. He didn’t hesitate, gripping you firmly. His lips found your neck, and he sucked hard, marking you. You tilted your head back, letting out a soft moan, all while keeping your gaze locked on Sukuna.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to see. Maybe it was something like, “Look at me, I’m here, the one person who absolutely shouldn’t be in your territory. And I’m letting someone else touch me in your club,” as if you wanted to make yourself stand out.

It was a childish move. Trying to make someone like Sukuna jealous was a fool’s errand.

But those crimson eyes followed your every motion. You were certain. Even as he took a sip from his glass, he raised it slightly in your direction, as if to say, Enjoy yourself.

You laughed, throwing your head back.

“Like what you see, baby? I can give you more if you want,” the man murmured against your neck.

You barely heard him. Sukuna had disappeared into a black-tinted, private room upstairs, and your focus was entirely on him.

You pushed the man’s hands away and stepped back. Without even looking at him, you said, “See you around,” and made your way toward the room Sukuna had entered.

When you reached the third floor, two guards stood in front of the door. You expected them to stop you, but instead, they said, “Welcome, Miss Gojo,” and stepped aside.

Even in your own territory, you weren’t treated with this level of respect.

Offering a polite “thank you,” you opened the black glass door without hesitation. The room, unsurprisingly, was black. Oddly, there were no hints of red here. Sukuna stood behind his desk, speaking on the phone. Though you couldn’t catch the full conversation, it was something about a delivery. He didn’t turn around, not even to see who had entered.

It was as if he had been expecting you all along.

“Call me when you cross the border tomorrow. If there’s a problem, consider yourself dead, understand?” He ended the call but still didn’t face you. The sound of keys clicking echoed in the room as he typed out a message, his attention still fixed on the screen.

“Well, what a lovely surprise, Miss Gojo.” Finally, he put the phone down and turned to you. His tone was calm, almost warm.

You were still standing by the door, unsure of your next move.

“Looks like the boy on the dance floor didn’t keep you entertained,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Pity. He probably thought he had your full attention, but Little Miss Gojo didn’t care for him at all, did she?”

Finally finding the energy to move, you walked over to the couch in front of his desk. “I don’t like overly grabby men,” you said, sinking into the seat.

“Well, that’s his loss,” Sukuna replied as he sat in his own chair. “I take it the clubs your brother owns don’t amuse you anymore, so you decided to try out Shinjuku’s nightlife instead?”

“Oh, absolutely. Our clubs are, how should I put it… dull. And my brother, as you know, Mr. Sukuna, is a complete buzzkill.”

Sukuna laughed, a genuine, deep laugh. “Gojo Satoru has no idea how to have fun. I’m glad you chose to come here.”

“Thank you. Even as an uninvited guest, you’ve treated my friend and me so well. But seriously, why are your guards so polite? I’ve never been called ‘Miss Gojo’ so many times in my life.” As you crossed one leg over the other, Sukuna’s eyes followed the movement. He watched, unblinking, even after you’d finished.

“My men know how to address people properly, Miss Gojo. And no one would dare speak disrespectfully to you.”

That was… unexpected.

“Why?” you asked, letting your top leg sway slightly as you spoke.

“No one disrespects my special guests, Miss Gojo. If they do, I’ll have to cut their tongues out. And I doubt anyone wants that.”

Ryomen Sukuna would absolutely do it. You were sure of that—and you doubted it would stop at just the tongue.

“You look like a runaway sun,” Sukuna said, leaning back in his chair, eyes never leaving you.

The sudden compliment made you laugh. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?” you managed to say between chuckles.

He smirked. “It was. Being something so hot that it melts everything in its path isn’t easy. Not everyone dares to touch.” Sukuna leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “This is where you wanted to be, isn’t it? Rather than getting more riled up by some amateur boy, you came here to play with the greatest danger in the room. You think you can burn me.”

“You said it yourself—I’m the sun. That means I can burn you.”

Sukuna rose from his chair and walked toward you. He leaned over the armrests of your couch, caging you in. You leaned back, but the space between you was negligible.

“Miss Gojo, if there’s anything hotter than the sun, it’s hell. Don’t forget that.”

You didn’t care. You could burn in hell. All you wanted was a touch.

One of Sukuna’s hands trailed up the inside of your thigh, brushing the fabric of your gold dress. “What a beautiful dress. Shame it’s so short—it leaves a lot to the imagination.”

You struggled to keep your thighs from pressing together at his touch. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop the subtle trembling of your legs as his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against your skin. The soft yet firm caress made resisting impossible.

“Gojo Satoru did well to keep you away from me. But you’re too much of a brat to listen, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here, in my territory.” His hand stopped moving, and this time he squeezed the inside of your thigh, firm enough to send a jolt through you, but not painful—just enough to make you crave more.

“Yes…” Your voice came out as little more than a moan.

“Know this, Miss Gojo: if I’m entertaining you as my special guest, I’ll expect a favor in return.” His hand kneaded your thigh, coaxing another soft sound from your lips.

“W-what kind of favor?”

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

Yes. Yes, you did. You’d wanted it from the moment your eyes met.

“I-I—”

“You wanted it to be me instead of that boy, didn’t you?” He leaned closer, his face hovering near your neck. He didn’t touch, but his eyes lingered on the mark left by the other man. “Should I track him down and kill him? It’s my job to keep my special guest satisfied.”

“Oh…”

“Use your words, Miss Gojo.” The way he called you Miss Gojo made your head spin.

“Yes. I wanted him to be you, Sukuna. I wanted the Evil King to claim me in his territory.”

Though you couldn’t see his face, you heard the low growl rumble from his chest at your words. Before you could say anything more, he easily lifted you with one arm, carrying you to his desk like you weighed nothing at all.

Before you could brace yourself, Sukuna swept everything off the desk with one hand, the clutter crashing to the floor as he pinned you down. The hard surface met your back, and the look in his eyes told you all you needed to know—he had transformed into a ravenous beast, his gaze hungry, predatory.

Your dress was shoved up almost to your waist, and, unsurprisingly, the panties you’d forgotten to wear were nowhere in sight. Your dripping, needy core was now fully exposed to Sukuna’s greedy attention.

When his gaze dropped to your slick heat, his eyes fluttered shut briefly, as if fighting to maintain control.

“I wish I could see how Gojo Satoru loses his mind when he hears about this,” Sukuna muttered, dragging your body closer to the edge of the desk. He yanked your gold dress the rest of the way up, spreading your legs wide to get a clearer view of the spot he clearly intended to devour.

“Fuck…” he murmured, his left hand gripping the inside of your right thigh while his right hand traced over your wet folds. He moved achingly slow, teasing, as though savoring every drop of slickness that coated his fingers. His touch was deliberate, exploring the sensitive walls of your entrance, his movements maddeningly unhurried.

But as much as the teasing ignited your body, you wanted—no, needed—more.

“Sukuna…” Your voice was barely a whisper, trembling with need.

“What is it? You want more?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, unable to find the strength to speak. His fingers moved with such infuriating precision that you were losing yourself.

“If I give you more, there’s no going back. You won’t be able to escape. Are you sure?”

You should’ve run. You should’ve left and never come back. But here you were, in enemy territory, no longer thinking about revenge on your brother. All you could think about was your own desperate need.

“I don’t want to run,” you managed, biting back a moan.

“Fuck,” Sukuna growled under his breath. Taking your response as permission, he leaned in, his mouth claiming the place that needed him most. His large hands spread your legs even wider, giving him complete access as his tongue began its sinful work.

“Su-Sukuna—ohhh,” you whimpered as his head moved between your thighs. His tongue licked you from your folds to your clit, his pace changing between slow, teasing drags and targeted, rapid flicks. Occasionally, he focused on a single spot, making you cry out, his masculine groans vibrating against you as he continued.

You couldn’t describe it. You weren’t someone who slept with men often, but none of them—not a single one—had ever worshiped you like this. The man who should’ve been the last person to ever touch you was devouring you like you were his last meal.

“The forbidden things are always the most delicious,” Sukuna murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your swollen lips. Just before plunging his tongue inside you, he added, “You taste incredible.”

“Oh, God… Sukuna…” you moaned. His tongue worked inside you with practiced precision, each movement sending fresh waves of slickness to coat him.

“Your walls want to keep my tongue inside. I can feel it,” he growled, his voice low and thick with desire. “Fuck, you’re so tight. How’s my cock supposed to fit in here?” His right hand left a sharp smack on your inner thigh before he returned to licking you, unrelenting.

Then he added his fingers. Without warning, two thick digits plunged inside you, curling as his mouth latched onto your clit. The wet, obscene noises his hand created only added to the intensity.

“You made a big mistake making me kneel for you, little brat.” He sucked your clit into his mouth, drawing a desperate, shaky cry from your lips.

“H-how?” you stammered.

“It means you’re never getting away from me,” he said, his fingers moving faster, hitting the perfect spot inside you. The heat between your legs became unbearable, and you knew you were close.

“You’re so filthy. Look what you’re doing to my fingers,” he teased, driving them deeper. “When I pull them out, I swear they’ll be wrinkled from your juices.” His lips returned to your clit, sucking hard while his fingers pumped relentlessly.

“D-don’t stop… I’m so close—UGH I’M GONNA CUM S-SUKUNA!” The tension in your body coiled tighter, seconds from snapping.

“Fuck no,” he growled, suddenly pulling his fingers and mouth away. Just as your release hovered on the edge, Sukuna stood and unzipped his black slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers.

Your breath caught. There was no way that was real. The massive, throbbing cock he held in his hand couldn’t possibly be human.

“Are you ready for my cock, Miss Gojo?” His voice was a low, primal growl.

You weren’t. Not even close. You had no idea how it would fit.

He brought his cock closer to your entrance, teasing you by sliding the tip along your soaked entrance . He let out a moan as the wet heat of your pussy coated him. You could feel the precum leaking from his tip mixing with your own arousal.

“This—this is torture. Please…” You were barely coherent, but you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. You needed him.

“What? Say what you want, Miss Gojo,” Sukuna taunted, his cock brushing lightly against you.

“I-I want you. I want your cock inside me,” you begged, your words tumbling out in desperation.

Sukuna chuckled darkly. “You can’t even form a proper sentence. All you can think about is my cock, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, your voice trembling.

“Then take it,” he growled before slamming into you in one swift motion.

Your entire body arched off the desk as you cried out. He didn’t ease in, didn’t give you time to adjust. He buried himself to the hilt, filling you completely. Wrapping your legs around his waist, your heels dug into his lower back, earning a low groan from him.

“Every time I thrust into you, I want those heels to dig in. Do you understand me?” His voice was a harsh command.

“Y-yes,” you gasped.

“Good. Seems the only time you behave is when someone’s fucking you.” Sukuna began moving, his hips slamming into yours with unrelenting force.

He was too big, stretching you so wide it felt like he was splitting you open. Every thrust pushed you to your limits, his thick cock hitting places you didn’t know existed.

“Do you hear that, Miss Gojo?” He was referring to the sound of his hips slamming against yours, the wet smacks of his length plunging into you. “That’s real music.”

“You’re—you’re insane, Sukuna. F-fuck, right there—” His tip hit the perfect spot inside you, making your toes curl.

“Here?” he taunted. “Take it all, Miss Gojo. Be a good girl and take everything I give you.” Your legs trembled as your heels dug harder into him, pulling him closer, making his thrusts even deeper.

Provoking a beast like Sukuna was a terrible idea. Yes, he was driving you wild with pleasure, but you knew that after tonight, no one else would ever compare. No one would ever fuck you like this, hitting your G-spot with every thrust, coaxing more of your juices out with every motion.

Sukuna Ryomen was about to become your addiction.

“I should kill Gojo Satoru for keeping me from this for so long—fuck—for keeping you from me,” Sukuna growled, his cock continuing to batter your sweet spot. “I fucking hate that man.”

Even fully clothed, beads of sweat ran down from his abs to your thighs, dampening the space between your bodies. His head tipped back, his hands gripping your legs tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

“Know this, Miss G-Gojo,” he growled, his words rough as your silken walls squeezed tighter around his thick, veined cock. “From this moment on, you’re mine—ughhh.”

"Sukuna—just a little more, please—so close—"

"Say you’re mine," he demanded, leaning closer to pound into you harder. Though his hands released your legs, you still clung to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

His thrusts grew deeper, each movement dragging along every sensitive spot inside you, making you shiver. With his lips brushing your ear, you whispered, your voice trembling with surrender, “I-I’m yours, Sukuna.”

“Fuck, yes! You’re mine. Get that through your head!” he roared into your neck, burying himself deeper.

“SUKUNA, IT’S TOO DEEP—I’M GONNA CUM!” your screams echoed through the room as your legs spasmed, and the sharp heels of your shoes dug further into his flesh.

“Don’t hold back on me, Miss Gojo,” Sukuna growled as he bit your neck, sending you over the edge into a shattering orgasm.

Your juices dripped onto his black wooden table while his hot seed filled you to the brim. The feeling of his warmth pumping inside you only reignited the arousal coursing through your veins.

Still buried deep within you, Sukuna pressed a soft kiss to the bite mark he’d left. As you worried about how you’d hide it from your brother, Sukuna’s words snapped you back to reality “Tell that idiot brother of yours you’re mine now. And if he behaves, I might even let him step foot in my territory.”

Your eyes widened. “W-wait, this wasn’t just a one-time thing?” No matter how much you had told him you belonged to him, you had only said it under the heat of lust. You had never truly considered that Sukuna might actually want to claim you.

Sukuna raised his head from your neck, his hungry, feral gaze pinning you in place as he braced himself above you. “Sunday. My house. I’ll fuck you against every wall until your marks are all over them.”

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

You should’ve stayed home today, listened to your brother. Or, when you stepped into this office, you should’ve run as fast as you could. Anything to avoid this.

But the beast had already claimed you.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

art by @Crain1Art on X

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[idiaa-shroxd]

THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞

SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?

warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.

PROLOGUE.

“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?

Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.

You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.

“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?

HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.

“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.

Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.

His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.

Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.

Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.

SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.

Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.

No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.

His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.

He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.

Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.

“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.

Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?

He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.

He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.

Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.

SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.

“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.

Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.

You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.

His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.

Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.

Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.

You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.

Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.

He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.

His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.

He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.

Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.

“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.

Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.

He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.

His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.

He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.

Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.

DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.

“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.

He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.

He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.

His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.

Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.

Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.

EPILOGUE.

“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.

“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.

It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?

a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 1

wc 868, Masterpost

“You’ve read the dossier?”

The clipped words were in time with their quick steps down the pristine white hall.

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Unlike you, Hellblazer, I read my contracts before I sign them.”

“You wound me, Pomp,” John said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’m just trying to protect you from the Big Bad Bat. He’s had a bit of a mare over this case. Hell, as a consultant, you shouldn’t even be seeing this with the access level things are at, but…”

“But you’re stuck and need my pretty baby blues on things to help you out,” Danny said, batting his lashes obnoxiously at John.

“Fuck off,” John said without any heat and shoved Danny away. “But the Bat is anxious about it. All the Bats are. If you can help us solve it sooner, then the better, because when the Bats are on edge, everyone is on edge. And it’s a fucking nightmare around here already with all the bloody do-gooders let alone when they’re all worked up about something…”

“Everyone’s on edge, got it.”

“Nightingale,” John said, voice unusually serious— serious enough to make Danny stop even without the hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this lightly. I like you, like you well enough for a psychopomp and whatever the fuck else you are at least. Tread lightly.”

“Got it, Constantine. I’ll work extra hard not to piss anyone off,” Danny said, patting John’s hand with his own tattooed one. Danny picked back up his same quick pace, but his mind now spun trying to figure out what exactly he was walking into. The dossier hadn’t gone into details, just conditions. Supposedly the risk— some side effect created by a villainous magical spell gone wrong— was presently and thoroughly contained. Danny would be able to observe the risk, the individual originally affected, and the items present at the time. He was not to interact directly with the risk, answer it’s questions, or under any circumstance touch it.

It read as a pretty standard contract magical unknown.

John wouldn’t be this concerned by a standard magical unknown. So what was he about to walk into? It seemed like he might actually want to listen to John this time, even if that was always a fifty-fifty chance of being an absurdly stupid idea.

Danny shifted his grip anxiously on the handle of his kit: an old traveling salesman’s briefcase fitted out with a careful collection of haphazard items. Most of the other occult practitioners mocked Danny’s tendency for used items. Half burned candles, old books wiped and rewritten, estate sale candy dishes— odd choices for most people, but for Danny they sang. They spilled the secrets of the world known and unknown to him. He had to trust that between his tools and his skills (let them believe he was a mere psychopomp), he would come out of this at least safe, if not with answers.

Didn’t mean that a few of his tattoos didn’t crawl in warning.

(Who knew what spot of skin that damn ink moth would wander to now.)

“Justice Leaguers,” Danny greeted with a nod as they finally finished winding through repetitive hallways and stopped outside a room.

“Nightingale, thank you for being able to attend to this so promptly,” Wonder Woman greeted him. Of the Justice League members (outside of the Darks) that Danny had interacted with on other consulting gigs she might be Danny’s favorite, so he offered her a smile.

“Of course, it sounded like things were possibly on a time table from the contract, so I’m glad I was between pressing matters,” Danny said. Right then his most pressing matter was a need to find a laundry mat, but the Justice League certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Right, well,” John jumped in when no one else said anything, not that Danny had expected much from Batman with how he was lurking like a shadow. “Er, this way.”

Danny glanced at the room label of ‘containment cells’ as the door unlocked with a clank and hissed open. After John’s warning, he wasn’t surprised that they were taking whatever this was seriously.

There was more white and gleaming metal behind the door. A neat row of spartan cells were set behind thick acrylic glass and metal. Danny’s eyes locked on the figure in the third cell. He stumbled.

He might be sick.

“What the fuck are you all doing?!” The words ripped from Danny in a snarl.

That was a protector spirit.

He brushed past Wonder Woman and through John’s reaching arm.

They had a protector spirit in a cell.

Intangibility washed over Danny, cold as always, as he stepped through the glass wall of the cell.

The spirit stopped in their pacing, the opaque red helmet tilting.

John screamed something at him.

The flashing red of alarms glinted off gleaming surfaces.

Danny reached out and rested his hand over the spirit’s sternum, and they practically crumpled around the touch. Gloved hands clung desperately to Danny’s arm.

A low growl rumbled in Danny’s chest. “They’re hurting you.”

They had a protector spirit in a cell.

How dare they.

----

AN: So, um, yeah. Still sick. Not a cold or allergies at all and not easy to clear up and prob a new life long thing. Which is great. Super cool. I needed more ways to be sick.

But have the start of this thing that I used to take my mind off things! My, what could be going on?? (Also why do I apparently have a tattooed Danny agenda?)

Stay delightful (and well), darlings!

I no longer tag people for various reasons. You can instead be notified by subscribing to the masterpost!

[buckypinetrees]

Warm Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: After Bucky warms your bed and leaves you wanting more, Reader decides it's time for a little payback. Continuation of Warm

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, enemies-to-lovers, oral sex (m receiving), orgasm denial

A/N: Thank you all for all of the love you showed towards part one. I truly was not expecting it to blow up the way it did and with so many people asking for a part two I knew I had to continue the story.

You were screwed. Absolutely screwed. Bucky had made you see stars last night and disappeared before you could return the favor. If you got out of this bed, his cocky smirk would be waiting for you, to gloat about how fast you were willing to give in to him. And if you didn’t get out of bed, you would be stuck in the same position you were in yesterday cold and hungry. So, you rose from the bed, fighting the urge to hide from him forever, and made your way to the kitchen.

Bucky’s smug grin was present as you entered the kitchenette. The smell of food wafting towards your nose and your stomach growled. Placing a hand atop it, you tried to silence the noise.

“Hungry?” He asked knowing full well you were. 

“What’s the catch, Barnes?” you questioned, eyeing him.

“No, catch. You just haven’t eaten, and I know you won’t make it five minutes out there fending for yourself” he smirked back at you.

Defeated you grabbed a plate from him. He had won every spat you two had since you arrived. You acted like a toddler, and you couldn’t take care of yourself. You hadn’t gotten any firewood and you were so cold you allowed him into your bed. And now you were eating the food he had managed to find. But you were done with that. Last night was a lapse of judgment. Today you would be stronger. You had to be. 

“How does it taste, doll?” Bucky seemed genuine as he gazed down at you. 

“It tastes all right,” you said back not daring to give him the satisfaction of knowing it was delicious. 

“You’re a bad liar” he shrugged at you and continued. “I’m not hungry after my feast last night so eat up little dove.” His voice dripped with sensuality as he shot you a wink. Your face immediately flushed as you mumbled some excuse about wanting to get started with your day. You pushed your way out of the cabin and made your way to the tool shed. You had two goals today. One, get firewood, and two, get some food. You found a worn ax and a shoddy fishing pole, but it would have to do.

You began to trek into the woods, careful this time to mark where you had been so you wouldn’t get lost. Another embarrassment on your part yesterday was having to follow Bucky back to the cabin after you got lost. That little outburst shouldn’t have happened if you were truly an Avenger. In the heat of battle, you would’ve been dead if you had lost your judgment like that. You had to do better.

Finding good firewood took longer than you expected. Searching for a dry enough tree in this snowy area was hard. But finally, you found a clearing of younger trees. Your muscles screamed as you brought the ax to the trunk. But repeatedly you swung, letting your anger and hatred toward Bucky take over. When you were done you had enough wood to last you a few days so you wouldn’t have to return for a while. But the task wasn’t done. You had to lug the wood back to the cabin. With as much as you cut, it would take at least two trips. You didn’t want to leave the ax either so maybe three trips then. Whistling sounded from the path you came from. 

“Hey there, little dove. Need some help?” Bucky’s voice rang out from behind you.

“I don’t need your help” You began to pick up the logs you could manage while also carrying the ax. 

“Really? You don’t need my help?” he scoffs, “You didn’t seem to mind my help last night.” He steps forward grabbing the ax out of your hand. His words have you curling your toes as you remember exactly what that pretty mouth did last night. 

Deciding not to grace him with a response, you simply picked up what you could and began making your way back. Bucky continued to hum as you walked back to the cabin, carrying whatever you couldn’t. The sun was already starting to set by the time you made it back. You would not have time to go look for food. Once again having to rely on Bucky for sustenance. 

You dropped the firewood off and turned to Bucky, but a response had already started to form on his lips. 

“Don’t worry, little dove. I know you were out working hard so I made sure to get enough food for the both of us. You know this would be much easier if you decided to work with me?”

“Thank you,” was the only response you could muster. Today you would accept his help but tomorrow with all the other necessities taken care of you would be fine. 

Bucky seemed pleased by this response and made his way to the kitchen to start cooking. You had to admit, Bucky was a damn good cook. He made the stuff he caught and trapped out here actually taste good. 

“Oh, by the way, doll,” Bucky said to you over his shoulder while he cooked, “I get the bed tonight.” You could not believe your ears. There was no way in hell you were giving up the bed. 

“No, you can sleep on the couch again,” you said angrily. 

“You didn’t let me finish. You can sleep in the bed too, but I am not sleeping on that damn couch again” Bucky said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

Despite your protests, it seemed like Bucky’s mind was made up, so you attempted to outwit him. After dinner you let him shower, quickly rushing to the bed. You would attempt to already be asleep so he would feel bad and have no choice but to sleep on the couch. 

Despite this after about an hour you heard the door to the bedroom squeak open. The side of the bed furthest from you dipped from the weight of Bucky sitting down. Your mind raced. He really had no care for what you had wanted, and sure maybe it was a bitch move on your part but here he was cuddling up next to you. It took everything in you to continue pretending you were asleep. Eventually, you heard his breath even out as he fell asleep next to you. 

Your sleep never seemed to come. You stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity as you tried to sleep next to the man who frustrated you to your core. Giving up now, however, would only make you seem weak in his presence. You tried to close your eyes one last time, as you heard a whimper fall past Bucky's lips. There must have been a mistake because when you listened closely, you heard your name slip past his lips. Not the nicknames he had deigned to call you. No, your own pure unadulterated name. 

You had come up with a new idea as you felt his hips lift off the bed in his sleep. Maybe a little payback for what he did to you yesterday was in order. Your hand traveled the length of his unclothed torso. Rubbing small circles against his nipples as he let out groans in his sleep. Your other hand traveled down to his waistband, playing with the fabric it found there. For a second you hesitated. Perhaps this wasn’t truly okay. He couldn’t consent like this. You pulled your hand back away from him but as you did his metal one grasped your wrist. 

With glossy eyes, Bucky simply said “Please little dove. Need you.” 

You shushed him. “Let me take care of you Sergeant.” Ulterior motives playing in your mind. 

You rose to kneel beside him. You trailed your mouth over each unclothed inch of his body until your lips met his waistband. Taking the fabric into your mouth you pulled it into your teeth before snapping it against his skin earning a groan from him. Your hand moved to palm his length as you continued your ministrations of leaving wet kisses against his chest. 

“Please doll,” he begged underneath you. 

You wanted him truly worked up for what you were about to do to him. You slowly moved his underwear down freeing his cock. His length bounced up to hit his chest as he sucked in a breath from the cold air. The tip already glistening with precum, but you avoided the area he wanted you most. Moving to leave kisses on his thick thighs. Little moans and whimpers fell out of his mouth. Your tongue darted out to soothe the red skin where you left bite marks. Eventually, you made your way up to his balls, licking at the seam between them. He bucked his hips up towards your mouth wanting more. 

“Remember what you told me last night Bucky? That I needed to learn patience? It seems like you were projecting.” Having the soldier become a moaning mess beneath you was only driving your ego. His moans and the way his hands dug into the sheets made your underwear into a puddle. But you had a plan, you couldn’t lose sight of it. 

Taking one of his balls into his mouth you began to rub his cock with the heel of your hand. His hips jutted against you as his mouth hung open. Once he was properly worked up you kissed your way up his length. Your tongue darting out to lick the angry red tip.

“God, Y-yes,” Bucky moaned.

“God can’t hear you now,” you say as you finally take his length into your mouth. Your tongue brushed over the veins that protrude from his cock. His hand metal hand clutching the sheets and his flesh one comes to brush your cheek. His eyes meet yours as he shows gentleness at this moment. You flush for the first time all night from his show of kindness even though you’ve been far more physically intimate with him. Bucky does not try to force you further down, simply enjoying the pleasure you are willing to give him at your own pace. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can manage, your throat closing around him in a gag making his thighs tighten up. Your hand moved back up to cup his balls. He threw his head back at your actions. 

“Little dove, I- I’m so close.” Bucky chokes out in between broken moans. 

You feel his balls tighten in your grip and you abruptly pull off him. His eyes open instantly going wide at his denied orgasm. You remove yourself from the bed smirking back at him. 

“Goodnight Bucky,” You step off the bed and make your way to the couch, silently celebrating your triumph. 

Tags: @unaxv

[cupcakeslushie]

I dont usually send asks, mostly cause im shy and don’t know what to say lol, but I wanted to share my appreciation for your Kendratello AU, cause it’s helped me recognize a toxic relationship in my own life.

I’ve never been a victim to SA or anything of the likes, so I can’t say I’ve been EXACTLY in Donnie’s place, but something that unsettled me early on when reading your AU was how…NICE Kendra would seem when alone with Donnie.

In a lot of media, especially in the media I saw growing up, the manipulative antagonist almost always had very obvious tells that show they’re evil when interacting with the victim. Maybe they’re talking about committing a very clearly villainous deed, keep the protagonist prisoner, something like that. But Kendra didn’t. Well, not always.

Kendra destroyed Donnie from the foundation up, and then rebuilt him back up to be who she wanted him to be, would punish him but then spin the situation around to be his own fault, but the rest of the time she would seem kind.

Only recently have I realized that someone very close to me has been toxic for most of our lives, and the reason it took me this long to realize it was because they would treat me kindly only until it became in their own interest to act otherwise. But I would take it, because I loved them and didn’t want to hurt their feelings, and I assumed that since they loved me, they wouldn’t ACTUALLY (emotionally) hurt me.

Spoiler alert: they did.

I’m not going to get much more into it, but your AU’s been very comforting to me ever since this happened, because it’s helping me come to terms with the fact that what happened wasn’t my fault just because our relationship seemed nice most of the time.

Your depiction of Kendra manipulating Donnie so realistically, and Donnie slowly but surely realizing that Kendra was hurting him is so powerful, and I thank you for that.

I’m so happy for you Anon 💚💚

It’s good to see these patterns, and depending on how toxic the relationship is, to speak up for yourself, or cut the person out, if they are unwilling to change.

Kindness is often a tool used by manipulators. But the biggest thing to ask yourself is exactly what you saw. Is this person only nice to me when they need something from me? And if so, then this isn’t real kindness. Good for you for knowing your worth!!

⚠️

sa related ask and discussions of very toxic relationships…

Personal experience rambling below. Toxic friendship and sa mention.

I’ll only be discussing this once, here, in this post. So I’m afraid if I get anyone asking for further info, I’m not going to reply /lh

I’m very sorry for what you’ve gone through. I hope you can find what you need to heal. Everyone’s traumas are so different, so please if you can, and haven’t already, speak to a professional that will give you help catered to you.

But I do want to immediately answer your question and say, yes, I have healed, for the most part. It took a lot of work and self-reflection that I didn’t want to do, because it was scary. But when I finally talked to someone, and realized I needed to take action in order to heal, that was when the process started.

For years, I thought my only options were to suffer in silence, and that what happened to me was my own fault, because towards the end, I was consenting. But I didn’t understand how my mindset and self worth had become so twisted.

My person (let’s call him J) was one of my best friends growing up. But as he got older, and more interested in…mature things, he changed. J would only ever agree to hang out together unless I offered to give him something to make it worth his while. Eventually I started to think these acts were all I was good for, as that’s all that made him happy to be around me. Pretty soon, J didn’t even have to push the ideas onto me. He only had to act uninterested or busy, and I would sit there and beg to do whatever he wanted.

The idea of rejection grew to be so painful and terrifying as he was one of only two friends that I had (the other being his sister. So if I lost one, I was so scared to lose the other). And I’d recently lost one of my closest childhood friends. Which he often used her cutting contact with us in his manipulations as well.

(It wasn’t until years later that she contacted me through Facebook and revealed that it was J that made her feel too uncomfortable, and as she already lived two hours away from us, and only visited once a year, it was just easier for her to cut off contact. I don’t blame her now, but without that knowledge, the thought that it was something I did, only helped J manipulate me.)

As I grew older, and I got better friends, I started to learn just how much I’d been pushed into only ever doing what he wanted, and how one sided of a relationship it was. He moved away, and that distance I was so scared of became a reality. But it was the best thing to ever happen. I still wonder what would’ve happened if he’d stayed in town. If we might’ve gotten married or if I would’ve finally stood up for myself. But all that matters is he is gone. There is always the danger of him coming home and me seeing him—we were neighbors, so his parents and mine still live right next door. Holidays can be kind of a high stress time lol.

That cafe comic is actually probably the most therapeutic piece out of the whole Kendratello AU I’ve done, as it’s always been a fear of mine that I could just turn around and he’d be in town visiting lol. Sending Kendra through that portal was highly cathartic. But even if that were to happen now, I have my coping skills, and I’m in a much better headspace. I think I would be able to handle myself.

I’m still a people pleaser, I don’t think that’s ever going to go away, even with all the work I’ve done. The biggest thing is, I know I’m worth more now. I can see real kindness, and catch the fake stuff much better by looking for those same toxic signs. The real friendships I’ve made have shown me what connection is truly like. It’s not a one-sided negotiation every time you get together. And if it is, then it’s probably not a healthy give and take. I’ve healed, but it is a constant effort.

Every new person sets off some kind of anxiety in the back of my head, but I don’t let that fear control how our relationship will develop. I’ve got the final say in what happens and what I get out of it.

[separatist-apologist]

The Prophecy

Summary: No one has seen or heard from Elain Archeron in two months…until she turns up one day in the Spring Court with no memory of where she's been or what she's been doing.

Tamlin and Lucien will have to work together to untangle the mystery of Elain's missing memories.

My gift for @olenvasynyt- but other people can read, too. I wanted to update yesterday but work is ruining my life/fun

@acotargiftexchange

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

-

Elain wanted to hate Spring. She hated the males living within the manor, hated that she wasn’t allowed outside even more, but she didn’t hate Spring itself. She woke that morning to rain pattering against her half open window, soaking the wood floor below. It seemed wrong to ruin them, even when so much else was already destroyed. There were no servants, no magic to keep it all clean, and so Elain set about doing it herself.

Tamlin and Lucien seemed to avoid the manor about as often as they avoided each other. There were terse words exchanged when they did interact, along with some hushed whispers she could never quite make out. It didn’t matter—Elain had learned, since she’d been made, that magic possessed loopholes. It wasn’t a perfect, infinite thing but rather a tool, much like anything else. Doors had locks, could be broken even without keys, and so too could spells, wards, and other enchantments. 

It was simply a matter of finding them. Elain spent the next two days following the chains from room to room. She could see the aura of them, the way she could on every living thing—magic was alive, in its way, and it had a specific, iridescent shimmer that marked it. To Lucien and Tamlin, it seemed as if she were merely testing the bounds of her new prison.

There were chinks, though it was strong. Lucien and Tamlin had woven the ward together before keying it with their blood. Lucien’s magic was warmer, a faint, orangish glow while Tamlin’s was brighter, a rose gold that smelled like grass clippings in the rain. 

She’d need to untangle them from one another before she could go about finding the holes in which she could slip through, and that was more complex. Lucien tended to show up every time she started working, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Something had occurred between them in the music room. She’d closed her eyes for a moment, preparing to play as a way to clear her mind, and when she opened them, she found Lucien on one knee before her, hand on her leg, face ashen. 

“What did you say?” he’d whispered.

“Get your hands off me,” she’d replied. 

Frustrating that she’d slipped like that. Lucien had stood without a word and stalked out of the room. A bigger woman would have asked him what she’d said so at least she knew as much as he did. She simply didn’t want to speak to Lucien. He, after all, had conspired alongside Tamlin to keep her locked up. Neither of them felt sorry for it, nor did they have any intention of letting her go.

Elain wanted to sit them both down and ask what their long term plan was. How long did they think they could keep this up before someone realized? A couple months at most, if that long. And then what? When Feyre brought the Night Courts vast armies to their doorstep, what then? Would they fight a war on her behalf?

No, they wouldn’t, and Elain knew it just as surely as they must. She needed to get out before they came up with some second part to their plan, which would almost certainly involve putting her somewhere no one could find. The manor was big, with windows and doors and walls that, if need be, could be destroyed. 

If only Lucien would stop trailing her. She didn’t always see him—but she could smell him. It was a distinct smell, the first she’d been aware of when she’d been dumped out of the cauldron. She couldn’t explain it, could tease out all the individual notes. All Elain knew was how it made her feel, and she didn’t like that feeling.

Everytime Lucien slunk in behind her, she felt safe. When he left, she was on guard again, nervous to the point of goosebumps and shaking, tiptoeing and peering around every corner for danger. When he was there, she was bolder.  She marched into rooms without care or concern, comfortable in the knowledge Lucien had no idea what she was doing.

He was with her then, as Elain made her way into the library. It wasn’t much larger than the one in the House of Wind, which she’d spent a decent amount of time in. Rhys and Ferye didn’t have one in their personal home, which meant anything Elain wanted to read had to come from Nesta, who could be quite judgy. 

Tamlin’s library was low on the sorts of classic romances Elain preferred, but heavy on history and folklore. Begrudgingly, she appreciated some of that—at least it was unrestricted. And the chains on the wards were vibrant there, swaying like windchimes just overhead. This was where she’d start unravelling, she decided. 

“You can come out,” she snapped, plopping down in a chair. Lucien appeared from behind the door frame, hands jammed in his pockets. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve made sure of that.”

“Just tell us where you were,” Lucien replied reasonably.

“Even if I remembered—and I don’t—why would I tell you now?”

“So you can go home?” he suggested.

Elain scoffed. “I’ll tell Feyre everything you did. We both know you’re not letting me go.”

Lucien blinked, his expression slack for a moment. He hadn’t considered that, then. Wasn’t he supposed to be smart? 

“What do you think she’ll do, when she learns?” Elain heard herself asking with boldness that didn’t seem to belong to her. It was the anger, she decided, pent up after years of polite silence. His expression was steely again. “Probably as much as she’d do if you were still there.”

Ouch. 

“Good talk,” she mumbled, blinking away the urge to cry in her frustration.

“I shouldn’t—that’s not—cauldron, Elain, this isn’t how I wanted things to go between us,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Yeah, she bet not. Elain understood what it was Lucien wanted, the things he hoped for. She opened her mouth to tell him that was never going to happen, but something stopped her. Some tingling at the back of her throat, some anxiety that made her too afraid to force this confrontation.

“I’m not your enemy,” Lucien added softly. 

“You’ve locked me inside this house,” she replied, equally soft. “What does that make you?”

He winced, turning his head to the side as though it pained him to look at her. Maybe it should pain him, at least a little. Elain didn’t feel bad about what she said, nor would she force herself to soften her words like she so often did.

Maybe Lucien deserved whatever he heard, if only a little. 

“Just tell me where you were,” Lucien all but pleaded for the second time. “I can protect you.”

Elain laughed, then, gripping the edge of her chair tightly. “You can’t protect yourself,” she said, the words striking at the heart of him. She didn’t need foresight to know that—watching him all these years told her so.

Lucien’s expression hardened, again. “You’ve been protected your entire life, Elain. How will you fare without anyone looking out for you?”

Prick! That wasn’t…entirely…true. She only stared at him, hoping he saw the burning hatred she currently felt. It wasn’t just him that made her angry—Elain had been angry since she’d been kidnapped from her bed and drowned in the Cauldron. Often, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs until someone relieved her of the endless, consuming monster buried within her ribs.

But she’d seen how that went for Nesta. 

Perhaps it was inescapable for her, too. After all, here she was, trapped with Lucien with no way out and no rescue. Would Feyre even care once she learned it was Lucien who had her? Or would they look the other way for Elain’s own good? 

Lucien offered Elain a rather filthy gesture with his hand, which prompted her to yell, “I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman!” at his retreating back. His barking laughter echoed down the ruined halls, spoiling her mood. Ass. 

Elain spent the rest of her day hiding from Tamlin and Lucien and examining the chains of magic. It took her about as long to untangle Lucien’s magic from Tamlins, separating them so it was easier to pull them apart and slowly unravel the entire thing. The library was the worst place to start given she couldn’t slip out a window. But if she could get it through the floor, the ruined conservatory was just below and that had doors out to the wilted garden. 

She’d decided to start with Lucien, assuming of the pair, the High Lord would be the stronger magic user. Lucien, though…his magic was complex, each chain a puzzle. Some of them burned her fingers like real flames while others were so blinding they illuminated the entire room and the hallway beyond. 

A tray of food waited for her just outside her door, Lucien’s scent all over it. Guess there were some gentlemanly impulses left, though the flower in the little vase at the corner of the tray looked as if someone had squished it in their palm. She ate, door closed, before setting the tray back in the hall. She could open her window as the frame pulled inward, rather than outward, and the breeze felt nice on her skin. 

It hadn’t been a week, she reminded herself. She was far more clever than Tamlin or Lucien gave her credit for, and no one understood how her magic worked. Elain barely understood it, truthfully. She’d simply begun to lie and tell people her magic was gone after the Cauldron had been destroyed, and then repaired, and everyone was willing to believe her.

But it hadn’t. Her magic was, as if ever had been, potent. 

Elain rubbed at her eyes, falling backward to the bed. Someone or something had been in to clean given the lack of cobwebs hanging from the chandelier overhead. Her room smelled faintly of marigolds, strange given they were more of an autumnal flower. She turned her face toward the pillow, inhaling deeply.

Sleep came easy even when it shouldn’t. Elain found herself standing in that foggy crossroads, the path often impassible thanks to tangles of thorny creepvine. Many of the early nights, after she’d been turned, were spent at this crossroads trying to coax the vines back. It seemed important to explore them. 

When she hadn’t been able to, Elain just assumed it was some irritating nightmare she’d never be free of. As Elain approached the crossroads, she found one path veering left was open to her. A rocky, paved road lay beneath her feet. Squinting, Elain tried to see where it led but a heavy, green tinged fog obscured her vision. 

That didn’t stop her. Dreams couldn’t hurt, after all—right? If she got scared, she’d do what she always did and force herself to wake up. With an open path, Elain moved forward eagerly. Why now, she wondered—though it didn’t stop her. Even as she stumbled over little cracks and holes in the road below, all she felt was excitement. 

Something bright flared through the fog, the source of it impossible to discern. Light appeared so suddenly it might have been her imagination had it not created sunspots in her vision. Picking up her pace, Elain tried to move faster, but the magic of the dream didn’t allow her to arrive any sooner than the dream wished. 

Elain didn’t realize she was trekking up a hill until her breathing became labored, sweat sliding down her neck. If it was a dream, it certainly felt uncomfortably real. It wasn’t—this was only a dream. 

At the top of the hill, Elain could see something, though the edges of it were blurred as though she were viewing it from under water. The air warped around her, shimmering irridescent as it prractically begged to be touched. Elain did, surprised to find it was wet, like dew on the grass just before dawn.

She jerked forward as if someone grabbed her wrist and yanked, sending her stumbling forward. There, standing in a glen framed by distant mountains on either side of the early dawn’s horizion, stood Lucien. He hadn’t noticed her—perhaps he wouldn’t, given this was her dream. Elain trotted behind him like a spectre, careful to keep a healthy distance between them. He was making his way toward a creek, his white shirt sleeves rolled to his ankles. 

He’d nearly made it when he turned, abruptly, brow furrowed.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. Elain only shrugged her shoulders blithely, because this was her dream and in her dream Lucien had  to do as she wanted. She pointed toward the stream.

“Stand in it.”

What fun, to boss him around.

Only, he didn’t move. Lucien merely remained where he was, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re in my dream, Elain.”

She blinked. “This is my dream.”

He prowled forward, head cocked to the side. Tenatively, he reached out and poked her in the cheek, only for her to swat him away. That felt real. Elain blinked again and then, before he could say a word, snatched the dagger resting casually at his hip.

“Put that down!” Lucien warned, hands raised in defense. She wasn’t going to hurt him—Elain pressed the pointed end against her finger and pricked, surprised to find it hurt. Blood welled from the wound, and when she turned her hand over, blood dripped to the ground. 

“I’m real,” she said, more to herself than anything. “Where are we?”

“Autumn,” Lucien said moreosly. 

“You miss it?” She didn’t know why she was asking. Elain held the dagger in her hand, arm resting limply at her side. 

Lucien only shrugged, turning tol ook at the scene around him. She supposed she ought ot have guessed—the rainbow of colors dotting the mountain side certainly didn’t belong to Spring. 

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. Something about the magic of her dream made it easier to ask him the questions burning in the back of her throat. 

“This is the only time I can see home,” Lucien replied, misunderstanding what she was asking him. 

There was no point pressing the issue. She turned, wondering how to leave this dream meeting. Perhaps she could find Feyre and warn her sister she was being held hostage. Easier said than done given she had no idea how she’d walked into Lucien’s dream. The path had opened, seemingly of its own accord, and had brought her here. What did it want her to find?

But whatever clues lay in the grassy glen or the bubbling brook were a mystery to her. It looked serene—picturesque, even—but not anything more than a memory of Lucien’s brought to life by his own mind. 

“Elain,” Lucien murmured, gripping her arm. He was touching her. Why? She frowned—but he was shaking her shoulders, now…and his voice was garbled. Far away. “Elain!”

Elain jolted awake to artificial lights half blinding her. Blinking her eyes open, she found Lucien half straddling her body with shredded hands, his own expression panicked. She tried to sit up only to find herself restrained, half buried beneath thorny vines. 

“What’s happening?” she breathed, panic rising in her throat. 

Lucien hacked at more of the vines, sending the plant thumping lifelessly to the ground. Her own skin was scratched, though nowhere near as bad as Luciens. He continued to pull, revealing a room filled with creepvine. It had come through the window, winding around the room as it sought to smother everything within it. 

No longer restrained, Elain scrambled to her feet, breathing hard as she stared back at him. 

“You were in my dream,” Lucien whispered, as if needing to hear her admit it. She only nodded.

“That was magic,” he added pointedly.

“I…I don’t know anything about it,” she said honestly. That much was true, at least. Lucien only frowned.

And said nothing else.

—

Head in his hands, Lucien waited for Tamlin to say something.

Anything.

“I’ve never…I’ve never heard of that sort of magic,” Tamlin finally murmured. “Dream walking?”

“I swear she was there,” Lucien repeated, though that hadn ever really been in question. “She was looking around.”

“There are very few accounts of Seer’s and their magic,” Tamlin began, hands steepled in front of his lips. His study was the worst of the ruined rooms, barely functional with the ruined walls, floors, and furniture. They’d dragged in a chair for Lucien to sit in while Tamlin leaned against his desk, which leaned aggressively thanks to a splintered leg. “Understandably, the courts that employed them weren’t keen to inform the rest of the world what, exactly, their prophets were capable of.” 

“Does it matter?” Lucien asked. “How long before she goes waltzing into Feyre or Rhys’s mind and tells them everything?”

Tamlin didn’t seem concerned. “If she was going to, she’d have done it by now.”

“She doesn’t know how it works, but she’ll learn,” Lucien pressed. 

“Then we have time. We need to know more than she does, and get ahead of this before she sends Night to our door.”

“What do you want me to do?” Lucien asked. They were being watched—not by Elain, who had stormed off to the library that morning mumbling about the endless survelliance happening day in and day out. 

“We need to learn where she was those last two months and why she’s here,” Tamlin reminded him, though Lucien believed Elain didn’t know or remember. She seemed to have such a poor grasp on her magic that it was entirely possible she’d lost track herself in her dream world. Though, that didn’t explain how she’d ended up here. 

There was something bigger than Elain, and maybe even Rhys, happening. Would Rhys conceal this from Feyre? And could Feyre keep it a secret? Would she torment Nesta with Elain’s absence if she knew exactly where Elain was and what she was doing? No, Lucien didn’t think so. He believed she’d put on a ruse—that she’d decieve him. But not the rest of her friends and family. Lucien also believed Rhys would keep it from Feyre so long as Elain herself didn’t know.

“Are we sure this isn’t a daemati controlling her?” Lucien questioned.

Tamlin rubbed as his jaw, stubbled after sevral days of neglecting his apperance. “No, I’m not. Rhys has always been cagey about what he can and cannot do, and how far his influence extends. If she’s here, and he knows it, then he knows everything we’ve done and everything we’ve said in her presence.”

“It could be a ruse,” Lucien replied, trying to think of Rhys’ angle. “If he’s considering a rival for the throne, killing you for kidnapping Elain would certainly give him that.”

“We need allies,” Tamlim mumbled, green eyes sliding to his feet. 

“Don’t—don’t ask me—”

“I have to. After…after everything, so many noble families fled. I need their gold to raise an army,” he told Lucien. “I can’t hold our borders forever, and if Rhys rallies the solar courts…” He could sweep into Spring with very little difficulty, topple their fragic, unstable government, and install a puppet High Lord that owed Rhys his allegiance. 

“I’ll send queries to Winter and Summer,” Lucien agreed, well aware news would travel. He’d need to be discreet and careful. “I can also…Eris…” he trailed off.

Many of the Spring Court nobles had fled to Autumn where Lucien knew they didn’t truly enjoy themselves. Beron was too controlling, demanded too much of their money, their resources, and whatever else he could squeeze from them. Transplants would be regarded as the lowest of the low, ranked just above the common fae but not as high as his favored families. 

If Lucien could guarantee them power and access, he was certain they’d return. If. Because he certainly couldn’t stroll back into Autumn after Beron had put that bounty on his head. He could appeal to Eris, but…Eris had allied himself with Rhys, and who knew how deep that alliance went? Lucien didn’t know if he wanted to gamble his life on his older brother.

Eris always put himself and his own interests first, after all. 

“Start with Summer,” Tamlin finally said, some scheming left to him. “After what happened in the second war…Tarquin is still bitter.”

“I’ll bet,” Lucien mumbled. “And Elain?”

Tamlin rubbed his eyes. “We could drug her to sleep every night.”

Lucien’s barred his teeth without meaning to, causing Tamlin to sigh. “Right. Then we will continue as we are and simply hope she knows as much as we know. Have you given any more thought to her vision?”

“The prophecy?” Lucien asked numbly. “No, I couldn’t begin to unravel it.”

“I have a contact in Day—a scholar who has quite the reputation. I’ll send it to her, see what she makes of it,” Tamlin murmured.

“And you don’t think she’ll find it odd our borders are closed, Rhys is on a manhunt for his missing Seer, and you just so happen to have questions regarding an errant prophecy?” Lucien snapped. 

“It’s the only plan we’ve got,” Tamlin half snarled back. “We need to move quickly, besides.”

“Oh, this is such a mess,” Lucien whispered, rising to his feet. How had they even gotten here? If he could go back, he would have simply dumped Elain on Rhys’s doorstep and forgotten the entire thing. 

“Do you trust me?” Tamlin asked against Lucien’s retreating back.

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated, looking up at his friend. “With your mate. Alone.”

“I—” It hadn’t even occurred to him to be concerned for Elain’s safety while he left. What was Tamlin going to do? He’d seen how his friend had once tried to court her sister and the wide berth of space Tamlin had given her.

“Of course,” Lucien agreed without hesitation. People could say whatever they liked about Tamlin—there was a lot to be said—but Lucien knew he wasn’t going to touch another Archeron even with thousands of marks on the line. 

“And if I wanted to keep her here?” Tamlin murmured, his voice softer. “A Seer.”

Lucien had to work to keep himself from snapping. “If that’s what she wants.”

“It could be,” Tamlin suggested, holding Lucien’s gaze. “You ah…you said she likes plants?”

“She can’t go outside.”

“The greenhouse is available,” he reminded Lucien. “I only thought…if she preferred being here…”

“We’re holding her hostage, Tam. I don’t think the greenhouse is going to impress her, but you’re welcome to try.”

Tamlin looked as if there were other things he wanted to say, swallowed when his better sense won out. That was for the best. In Lucien’s fantasies, Elain was content to stay wherever Lucien was and never missed the Night Court. 

“What about mothers estate?” Tamlin practically whispered. “The other courts aren’t aware of its existence. We keep the wards up, let them waste their time trying to get to the manor, meanwhile we’re at the border.”

“That’s risky, and is assumptive of a lot of stupidity on Rhys’s end,” Lucien began slowly. 

“He doesn’t find us particularly intelligent,” Tamlin hissed. “Why would he check anywhere but here? I can make my presence known on occasion—just enough for his army of bats to report I’m out prowling. Business as usual.”

There was heavy bitterness in Tamlin’s voice and right then, Lucien wished he could shake his friend. Rhys had taken everything that mattered to Tamlin, and then everything else that didn’t, besides. Some of it couldn’t be helped—Feyre had always been Rhys’ mate, and had always been on borrowed time with Tamlin. And some of it was merely his one-sided revenge that he’d never move past, regardless of the part Rhys had played in all of it. 

Tamlin had given them exactly what they all wanted—proof he’d never been the right kind of male to govern, to love, to even be friends with. And Lucien could admit that Tamlin hadn’t really tried to prove them wrong. He wanted to tell Tamlin that the best revenge was rebuilding his court and showing Prythian that he deserved everything he had. 

“Okay,” Lucien agreed, certain it would eventually blow up in their faces. “Lets do it—in the dead of night. I’ll winnow Elain if you drop the wards for me.”

“As soon as you return from Summer,” Tamlin agreed. Lucien didn’t bother to say anything else as he left, though he hoped that, perhaps, this was the start of something new. Sure, the circumstances were less than ideal, but maybe it was all of them needed—Elain included. Someplace new, without all their history hanging over their head. Maybe they could find peace, if not as lovers, than as friends. 

Lucien, at least, hoped for that.

Whether he’d get it was another matter entirely.

[sopiao]

OMG HIIIIII ^^

i feel like there’s not enough price love on this app >:( so i wanted to request a reader that moves in across the hall from Price. and gets a little crushy crush on you 😻

LIKE OMG he helps you move in, do all the heavy lifting. such a gentlemen. always there whenever your AC breaks down. he just so happens to run into you in the complex’s laundry room. somehow always awake when you need him.

please ignore this if you want or don’t feel like it!! take care of urself boo!

PLS IVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO DO THIS THE SECOND I FIRST READ IT. honestly such a cute idea :^

anyways- 👀

Price was a very private man, never discussing any deep or emotional issues or feelings with anyone. He hated small talk, always found it awkward or bothersome. He didn’t feel as lonely as he thought he’d be, he liked the peace and the time he has for himself. Yes, he will be polite, but would rather prefer being by himself. But he’d try his best to avoid any interaction without being rude.

That was until he heard talking and a series thuds outside. Price was always very nosy and curious so he looked through the peephole of his door and saw you standing in front of the apartment across from his, it was empty for as long as he’s been there. Boxes were scattered along your feet.

He’s not sure why, but he felt like he should help you. He told himself it was just to make a good first impression of course. He scrambled to find the nearest clean shirt he could find. Coming out to meet you, Price was awkward at first, feeling like it was a bad idea at the last second until he saw your face, a soft and welcoming smile.

“Hi! Sorry about the boxes, I’ll be quick” You chuckle awkwardly, looking at the boxes that took up one side of the hallway. A smile instantly grew on him as he reassured you that it was alright and that it wasn’t a bother.

“You need a hand? I have some free time” He offered, lying, not wanting to seem like an eager creep that’ll snatch a pair of underwear from you while your not looking.

“You sure? I don’t wanna take up any of your time” Of course you were grateful for the offer but didn’t wanna be a bother. He insisted that he helped and that he wouldn’t be late to the nonexistent plans he made up. You didn’t doubt that he couldn’t do it. I mean, just look at him. His arms alone made you drool.

He made sure to make a show of it when he helped you out. Holding a box close against his barrel chest, making sure to subtly flex his arms he knew you were eyeing. Occasionally, you’d sneak a glance of his ass when you would go back out to bring in another box.

Price even helped you bring in all of your furniture from the downstairs lobby to the second floor. Doesn’t sound like much but when your bringing in furniture up and down and up and down— it gets tiring as hell. And fortunately for your case, sweaty.

Right after bringing in the couch, he did 80% of the lifting, you plopped down across it for a little break. Price pulling up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his neck and face, showing you what you’ve been thinking about since the beginning. He was turned to the side so it didn’t look as obvious that he was showing off for you, but you still got that full view.

—

Price was excited when he heard a knock on his door, even more when he saw you, if he was a dog his tail would be wagging side to side.

“Sorry to bother you again, but do you know how to fix an AC? Or a repair number I can call?” You asked, chuckling nervously, again he pretended that he had free time in between plans he didn’t really have. Plus, it took him away from his heaps of paperwork and got to be in your presence, even if it’s for a short while.

“‘Course. I have some time” Flashing the charming smile you always thought about. Following you into your apartment with a reasonably sized tool box. He couldn’t help but eye how you looked, dressed to try and accommodate the hot weather without a functioning AC. Loose black tank top and grey sweatpants.

“Thank you! I would’ve probably roasted to death if I went one more minute with out it. So sorry to bother you again” You grinned, relief washing over you, the cool air against your boiling skin and sweat woke you instantly.

“No problem at all” He shrugged, putting his tools back in the red metal box, resting his surprisingly soft hand on your shoulder.

“Feel free to call me anytime anything needs fixing” His touch seemed to linger, along with your and his gaze on each other.

—

Price sprang up in a second and came running into your apartment when he heard a scream, the door was unlocked. He found you sitting on your counter with a pan, clearly afraid and scared.

“What?! What happened?!” He yelled, looking around your apartment for an intruder or something, his wooden bat being held over his shoulder, ready to strike.

You stuttered, too scared to reply, even think to form a sentence.

“A spider”

“What- Wait- Seriously?” He let the bat drop to his side, laughing at how seriously afraid your expression was.

“Yes, seriously! It’s huge, John! It’s as big as my hand!” You yell, trying to get to him while he laughs.

“Fine. Where is it?” He smirked. You followed him to your bedroom where the spider was. It really was as big as an atom, he couldn’t even find it until it moved up the wall.

—

When John heard your knock at his door he took no longer than a second, ready to open the door and greet you. Wondering what you’d want at this time of the night. He stopped for a second, realizing that he may be a little too eager. Waiting a couple seconds, like one or two, and opening the door, pretending that he just ended a call.

“Hm?” He tilted his head, forearm resting on the edge of the door as he leaned against it. Somehow you were more charming than the last time he saw you. Looking so excited with a paper towel on your hand with a single treat on it. He pretended he didn’t see it, but was internally hoping it was for him.

“Oh, good. You’re awake” You chime happily, taking the thick brownie and pressing it up to his lips for a bite. Wanting for him to take the test brownie, but being to awkward to ask him normally. He hummed in surprise, accepting the baked good. Placing his hand under his chin to keep it from falling and leaving crumbs.

“So?” You asked a couple seconds later, he’s still chewing. He chuckles at your eagerness, nodding his head as he tried to finish up his bite.

“I- Uhh. Wow. This is—this is good. Mm, really good” He nods, taking another bite of it as he dusted of his hands. Making you delighted that he liked it. He held the last bit of it up to your mouth to take it. Biting it from his hands you looked to the side, nodding to yourself and taking mental notes.

“Good. Good. Needs chocolate chunks, a little too dry” He stares as you just talk to yourself, a soft smile on his face.

“Oh. Caramel! Or is that too thick?” You perk up, snapping your fingers and looking up for confirmation or disapproval.

“Frosting?” He adds cluelessly, knowing nothing of the science of baking.

“Frosting!” Your eyes light up, pointing your finger at the idea.

“Mocha, maybe? Or nuts?” He tried his best to help and contribute to your little brainstorming session. Nodding along with the idea you thank him and walk back to your apartment to tweak the recipe a bit.

[silenttrxxs]

street racer choi san! x reader

Choi San. He was the cities best racer, he hasn’t lost a single race this season. And it wasn’t a shock really. It become known to you about him when he arrived at the garage, His car a simple Porsche 911.

“Yo, wooyoung-ah” San shouted as he slammed the door, walking towards your brother. You was just sitting down, a book in your hand as you studied, you had your Japanese exam coming up at the time and needed to cram as much as you could in but your brother called you in, something about needing your help because Yeosang his right hand man called in sick and wouldn’t be in. You looked up from your book and gasped. Donned in leathers, his keys dangling from his fingers as he got closer to wooyoung. Your gaze fell to the floor as a feirce blush spread across your cheeks, you moved in the chair adjusting a little to avoid any attention.

you felt a peircing gaze boring holes into your entire being as San got closer.

wooyoung looked up, wiping his hands with a rag and took the keys.

"guessing you want it all kitted out huh?" wooyoung said walking around the car.

"yeah, need to win this one, its my home race in a few days and i cant loose my streak woo" san says laughing.

wooyoung looks and inspects the car, tutting and muttering things under his breath.

"its gonna be a hefty sum bro, i have the parts how about you stick around itll be done in a few hours" wooyoung says grabbing the wrench and looking over to you. you had watched the entire interaction praying to any one that you would be ignored, you was broken from your inner manifestation by wooyoungs voice. "y/n a hand please" he beckoned handing you a wrench as you stood up walking towards him. San looked you up and down as you got closer.

"e-erm hi, im san and you are?" he stutters, clearly not a man of much words towards women. you giggled a little finding it cute how he stumbled on his words, you noted the slight blush creeping on his cheeks and felt the little devil land on your shoulder. the words ringing through your head as you took the challenge, you was going to make it impossible for him to resist you as you worked on his car. of course in a way to not rouse suspiscion. you took a walk around the car, listening to wooyoung as he told you what needed doing knowing exactly what to do and noting it was a 1 person job you looked at your brother.

"wooyoung-ah, why dont you take a break, go get some food and a nap or something, you need it and trust me i can handle this myself dont worry" you said smiling sweetly.

"are you sure y/n, i am starving now you mention it" he replies, laughing at his stomach growling as he spoke.

"yes woo go" you said before throwing his keys at him and shooing him out the garage and closing the shutters.

turning slowly you locked your gaze with san.

"well youre the last job of the day, and ill get this done for you a quick as possible" you say as you grab your tools and start working on the car.

san watches intently, his body heating up as he watched the way your body hung over the car, your mucles contracting as you worked on the car, the thin sheen of sweat dorning your skin, his gaze falling down your body to your ass. He shook his head as he adjusted his stance. He coughed clearing his throat and grabbing a water.

"you okay there san" you said, your head picking up and looking over to him.

"y-yeah im good" he lied.

you nodded in reply and carried on working. a sly smile spreading across your face when you bent back over the car. You knew your plan was working.

You gasped as you felt a warmth behind you, you giggled a little as you took the bar down, finally being done with the car. Shutting the bonnet and turning slowly. You gasped as sans hand gripped your jaw. "youve been doing that on purpose havent you" he whispered into your ear his breath hot against your skin.

you felt your body tense under his touch, you sucked in a sharp breath. San noted the way your body tensed. "look at you, your loving this arent you?" san muttered before looking down into your eyes. his eyes darkening as he moved his leg between your legs. A chuckle leaving his lips as he felt the heat pouring from your body. "so sensitive arent you" san spoke as his hand carressed your cheek down to your throat as he smirked, noting the way you tried to close your legs around his leg and gulp under his touch. his hand wrapped around your throat as he leant into you his form shadowing over yours as he took your lips with his own. Your bodies melting together as you let out whimpers. San let his hands roam your body, his hands caressing your chest, massaging your breasts as you leaned into his touch. Your own hands lifting tugging at his jacket, you took it off him taking in the sight before you as you saw the toned muscles, his tank top clinging to his skin leaving nothing to the imagination, your hands lifted as you smirked, caressing his abs. you giggled as you watched the way he shivered under your touch.

San groaned as he felt his cock throbbing in his pants as your hands caressed his body. His own hands grabbing your arms and turning your body, pushing your body against the bonnet of his car. "s-san" you breathed out, your body clenching around nothing as you felt his hips against you. "so needy arent you y/n" he said before gripping your wrists behind you and ripping the clothes from your body, the cold air hitting you making you shiver, exposing your wet heat to him. fumbling with his pants with his free hand he stroked himself a little before guiding his cock against your folds. A smug laugh leaving his mouth as he watched the way you clenched, your wetness covering his cock in a thin slick before he lined up with your hole, taking a moment to allow you to adjust to his size.

san groaned as your heat enveloped his cock, his hips moving slowly as you pushed back against him. "fuck so tight baby" he groaned as he sped up his movements his hips snapping against you as he let go of your wrists, reaching up to grab a handfull of your hair, he pulled your hair as he fucked into you harder, his orgasm creeping up quickly he bit his bottom lip as a loud moan left hip lips. he felt you clench around him as you moaned loudly his name falling from your lips as you release all over his cock. "f-fuck" he hisses as he spills inside you his hand wrapping around your throat as he lifts your body, his hips continuing to snap into you as he chases another orgasm. "fuck going to fill you up baby" he hisses as he continues to fuck you against his car.

You had long forgot how many times you had came, you looked up at san as you both finally come to a stop, you smiled and giggled as you allowed him to help you sit on the couch. you both turnt to each other and smiled. "can i have your number" san says laughing. "you just fucked me stupid of course you can" you laugh reaching to grab your phone and handing it to him. he put his number in, he stands up grabbing his keys, and popping the boot, grabbing a pair of his jogging pants and walking back to you, he helped you get into the pants and sat on the couch with you. you both spoke for hours, until the tiredness hit you both. Both your bodies entertwined together and sleep enveloping the pair of you.

[thatsoanjie]

Unspoken costs

Sebastian Sallow x reader

Summary : You start doubting Sebastian's intentions in your friendship.

Word count : 1 124

Notes : Requests are open! I just write these to get the ideas out of my head :)

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The thought crept up on you like a shadow, subtle at first, but growing in size and weight until it consumed nearly every quiet moment you had to yourself. It was one of those thoughts that made your stomach churn, your heart clench, and every instinct scream to push it away. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it lingered, gnawing at you, relentless.

It started with a simple, innocent observation—how often Sebastian would bring up Anne in your conversations. It was natural, you told yourself. Anne was his sister, his world, the person he loved most. Of course, he would talk about her, especially when you had been so deeply involved in their quest to cure her.

But then the doubts began to creep in. What if that was all you were to him? A means to an end? Someone who could help him save Anne, but nothing more?

You began to replay every interaction in your mind, searching for signs, for clues. Every time Sebastian had pulled you into his schemes, every time he had sought you out for help, every time he had looked at you with those intense, desperate eyes—it all seemed to revolve around one thing: Anne. And the more you thought about it, the more it started to hurt.

Were you just a tool to him? A convenient ally who could be discarded once Anne was cured? The idea sent a wave of nausea crashing over you. You cared about Sebastian—more than you had ever cared about anyone. But what if that care, that love, wasn’t mutual? What if you were just another piece in his puzzle, and nothing more?

After one particularly grueling day in the library, these thoughts became unbearable. You had spent hours researching yet another obscure text, and Sebastian had been restless, his frustration bubbling over.

“We’re missing something,” he muttered, his voice strained. “There has to be something more… something you can do.”

You paused, trying to calm the rising tide of doubt, but it felt too familiar, too raw. "Sebastian," you started, your voice shaking, "do you only want me around because I can help you save Anne?"

The question cut through the air, sharp and immediate. He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you, his posture stiffening.

"Are you serious right now?" His tone was incredulous, defensive. “After everything we’ve done, after everything I’ve asked of you, you’re really going to throw that at me? You think you're just some tool?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but you stood your ground. “It feels like that sometimes.”

He scoffed, pacing now, clearly agitated. “You know what, maybe you're just too afraid to see things through. Maybe it’s easier to think I’m using you than to admit you’re scared of what comes next. Coward.”

The word hit you like a blow, your heart hammering in your chest. “How can you say that? After everything we've been through?”

"Because it’s true!” he shot back, his eyes burning with frustration. "You’re brilliant, more capable than anyone I know. Hell, half of the things we’ve accomplished wouldn’t have happened without you. But here you are, too afraid to push yourself further, hiding behind this—this doubt. You think I haven’t noticed?"

The weight of his words settled on you, heavy and stifling. “I’m not hiding. I just need to know… What happens when Anne is cured? Where does that leave us?”

His expression softened, but only for a moment. “Why does it matter?” he asked bitterly. “This isn’t about us, this is about saving her.”

You felt the sting of his words but pressed on. “No, Sebastian. It is about us. I need to know if I’m just a means to an end.”

He stopped, his face hardening as he looked away, the tension thick between you. Then, almost too quietly, he said, “Maybe you want to be a means to an end. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want this responsibility.”

His accusation stung, but you didn’t back down. “That’s not fair. I’ve done everything I could.”

“I know!” He finally turned back to you, his voice breaking slightly. “I know you have. And that’s exactly why it frustrates me that you don’t see it. You’re extraordinary. Your talent could change everything, do things I can’t even begin to comprehend. But every time it matters—every time it could really make a difference—you hesitate. And I don’t get it.”

You felt the lump in your throat grow tighter, his words cutting deeper than you had expected. “I’m not like you, Sebastian,” you said quietly. “I can’t just throw myself into it without thinking about what it’ll cost.”

Sebastian was silent for a long moment, his face a mixture of anger and something else—something more complicated. "I don’t want to admit it, but you’re right. You don’t have to be like me, and you don’t owe me this.” His voice softened, but there was still a raw edge to it. “I can’t deny your talent is incredible. It’s—it’s the kind of magic that changes everything, that changes people. And maybe I’ve pushed you because I thought... because I needed you to see it, too. But I get it. I’m not asking you to follow me down the same path.”

You blinked, surprised by his shift in tone, by the way his defenses crumbled just enough for you to see the vulnerability underneath.

“I can’t ask that of you,” he continued, more measured now. “And I respect that. I just… I just wish things were different. That I didn’t need you so badly, and you didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

There was a painful silence as his words settled in. For the first time, it felt like he was admitting that he’d put too much on you, expected too much without understanding the weight of what he was asking.

“I don’t want to be a coward,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I don’t think you are,” he said, his gaze finally softening as he looked at you. “I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. But I’ll respect your choice. Whatever you decide, I won’t push you.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt something loosen in your chest. His words weren’t perfect—there was still hurt, still unresolved tension—but it was enough. Enough for now.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the air between you still heavy but no longer unbearable.

Sebastian nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze on you. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted quietly. “Not because of this. Not because of anything.”

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are open. I've been trying to get a fic out every monday at 4pm ET. So far, so good! I do need to branch out from one character fics lol.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

hey I was wondering, do you have any thoughts or headcannons about Crescent? (Killer and Nightmare most popular fanchild) I always thought that his existence would be very interesting for the interaction between the two but the fandom kind of completely ignores them when it comes to Crescent, which is really annoying because this has so much potential to traumatize both of them (especially Killer)

Oh man, it’s been awhile since i thought about anything related to shipkids or Crescent. Now I did talk about how I think Stage 2 Killer, the Killer Crescent is most likely to be familiar with, would think of, react to, feel about, and behave around children in general right here.

All is to say, i don’t think Killer would ever want children of his own. Any kids he may potentially have would be on accident or something he was not willingly doing or had a hand in.

I do still think Stage 2’s ways of thinking about people in general—not full “people,” unreal, objects of fascination and study, NPCs running on scripts and predicable, tools or resources, targets, threats, etc—would extend to his own kids.

If it was something he didn’t willingly partake in, he’d avoid confronting his lack of agency or desire for such a thing—and he wouldn’t think of any kids as his. He’d think, “they’re not mine. Just another way this body was used.” Or “the results of someone else’s choices” or in some cases, “a means to an end.”

At most, if the child was an accident and unplanned, he may begin to see the kid(s) as “his.” But not in the way a parent typically thinks about their child; just as a fact. They’re “biologically” or magically, I guess, his. They may even be his in the same way that, say, the phone I’m typing on to respond to this ask is mine.

I wouldn’t want anyone touching it without permission or going through it or breaking it or stealing it from me. I have a password to keep it safe. I have a case on it so its screen doesn’t break when I drop it. It’s a cute case. I make sure to charge it when it needs to be charged, manage its storage, try to avoid giving it any bugs or viruses and try to fix it if it does get any. I make sure not to overcharge and overheat it.

Sometimes I play around in its settings and try to figure out how it works, what it can and can’t do, what I can and can’t change about it. There’s ideas and worries and thoughts floating around that my phone could be used against me, leak my personal information, explode and hurt me, etc.

When it doesn’t work as intended or in a timely manner or does anything that happens to regular phones and are just natural or inconvenient, I get annoyed with it and think about throwing it at wall. I don’t do it—but killer would have a much harder time with a kid in this analogy then I would.

I am not conditioned to respond with violence to certain triggers—it just mildly annoyed me. And he may just have to forcibly remove himself from the situation/kid, if only because he doesn’t want this kid “controlling” him.

If I lost or broke my phone id be annoyed and frustrated, upset about all my data and photos and videos and memories being lost—but would ultimately move on with my life. I would more so be upset that I wasted the money of the person who bought and gifted the phone.

Of course things with Killer and any kids of his in this phone analogy don’t fit perfectly. For one thing he wouldn’t even bother getting a “phone” in this case, and if he ever accidentally ended up with one and he wasn’t able to “share” it with someone (raise the kid alongside the parent as support or have any form of support), he’d find someone else to take it.

If he couldn’t find anyone else to take it, and the phone was capable of being taught to care and look after itself, he might do that if he’s in the environment to do so (aka not with Nightmare), then leave once he’s sure it can. Probably wouldn’t think much of the phone again.

Now back to Crescent specifically. I forgot what his story was so I had to look up a wiki, which may not be reliable, but something in particular stood out to me and kinda made me laugh.

“Killer doesn't care about Crescent. When Nightmare said that they now have a child together, Killer commented on this news with an emotionless "Wow".”

Very silly of him to do. But makes sense, since it’s to my understanding that this kid was not made out of any love between Killer and Nightmare—Crescent was made purely for Nightmare’s plans.

It’s mentioned that Nightmare is the mother, and maybe possibly given birth (?) to him, so at least Killer didn’t have to experience the body horror of unwanted pregnancy. But the way it’s said makes me think he still definitely wasn’t given any choice in this matter.

I remember hearing around that Nightmare actually raised Crescent in his early years due to wanting to raise him “right.” I personally don’t see Nightmare doing any of the child rearing honestly, i think it’d actually be left to Killer.

And I already talked about how I think Killer would fare with having been ordered to care for a child in the linked post, but there’s the added bonus of Crescent being Killer and Nightmare’s kid, Killer’s unwanted kid, the fact that he was likely ordered by the Boss to train and basically indoctrinate Crescent into whatever plans Nightmare has for the kid.

It was mentioned that Crescent is resentful and resistant towards Nightmare and his plans, hiding the full extent of his powers simply to spite Nightmare. And while I do think Killer may be all for spiting Nightmare, there’s the fact that Crescent himself isn’t likely to face the consequences for his disobedience; Killer is.

Hell, in the darkest timeline, Killer may even be the one ordered to dish out any punishment on Crescent himself; encouraged to give in to his conditioning while also having to restrain himself from killing the kid.

But it’s more likely that Killer would face punishment from Nightmare for any disobedience Crescent displays. Which in turn builds Killer’s both resentment and feelings of being powerless, but also leads to deep repression which increases his apathy and indifference.

All in all, i think Killer would both fear and hate that kid deep down. Very deep. But enough that whenever he’s in Stage 1, he’ll stay far away from Crescent; and warn the kid to do the same. He may even arm Crescent with a way to protect himself from Killer, similar to the way he tells Color he has to kill him if he ever goes Stage 3.

Crescent would likely be raised with the knowledge that his father—the one whose been taking care of and raising him all these years, but may have also been the one to have greatly wounded and betrayed him (regardless of choice or not)— is a danger to him, and one day, he may have to kill him—or he’d die instead.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 15 . Limelight

a/n: ngl I'm starting to hate this, it's just that my writing style doesn't seem fitting for a series. maybe next time I'll stick to one-shots lol

also I'm so so sorry for the late update. I'm so busy I haven't slept for like a week now. However, I found some free time to write huhu.

tags: injuries, blood (it's cale what did you expect), self-doubt, war

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____’s time in Vegas City had been relaxing. There’s no way it wouldn’t be when everyone, mainly Cale, made sure it was. And the healer is grateful to all of them. It gave them time to think and lament over the devastating news they had received.

In turn of that kindness and space, _____ made sure to recover after they left the Caro Kingdom. It wasn’t easy, all they wanted to do was lay on the bed all day and cry. Getting energy for the slightest task, even eating, was so hard. But they still pushed themself, because war was approaching.

The battlefield is calling and its first target is their new home.

So the healer pulled themselves by their bootstraps. Even as everyone tried to assure them that it was fine to not be okay they still spared no effort to recover from their depression and be back to normal.

“Basen-nim will handle communications. The Count and Countess will be on the battlefield. Lily-nim is too young.”

Currently, Cale and _____ are having a disagreement.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only option left. The Henituse have a lot of retainers and people we can use.”

“But can you really go all out if it isn’t one of your direct people guiding the citizens?”

Cale could only furrow his eyebrows at that retaliation. The two are currently disagreeing whether or not _____ should be in charge of leading and guiding the citizens once the Paerun Kingdom attacks. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds. Cale knows that _____ is right. Especially after that northeastern nobles meeting… Cale can only have peace of mind if the one in charge of the citizens is someone he knows. Someone he trusts

_____ reached out towards the redhead, holding his hand to show their resolve.

“Cale, I’ll be fine.”

The healer can feel Cale squeeze their hand back.

“Fine…”

Cale pauses for a moment and _____ thinks they are nearing the end of the discussion.

“But let Raon cast magic on you for disguise.”

Apparently _____ thought wrong.

No way are they allowing the young dragon to cast and maintain magic on them when they need his mana to maintain the barrier. It would also be dangerous to ask another mage for a disguise when there’s always the possibility of their enemies bringing mana disturbance tools.

“Cale you know we can’t do that.”

“Yes, that’s why you better just stay inside the castle walls or beside me and Raon.”

“I can’t do that either. I promise I’ll be safe, plus I’ll be wearing my hood and mask. There’s no way anyone would recognise me.”

Cale sighed as he used his free hand to push his hair back. 

Honestly, everyone listening in (the kids averaging 8 years old) doesn’t know why the young master is fighting this losing battle. If it had been anyone else Cale would’ve agreed in a heartbeat. 

Plus sooner or later they know he’ll give in to the healer’s wishes.

He always does.

True enough, Cale’s resolve did not even last 5 minutes before he agreed to _____’s request. It’s now official that they will be leading the citizens towards safe zones. They would also be the first line of defence in case enemies get past the barrier and start attacking the city. 

Of course, if Cale or someone else from their side gets injured then _____ will run immediately to aid them.

The other people who didn’t listen in on the conversation didn’t even have to ask how it went. Results were obvious from the way _____ was humming on their way out with Cale sighing and petting On and Hong.

“Knight-nim please check if there’s any people left on area d. If you need me I’ll be double-checking our inventory and supplies.”

It’s been a few hours after Cale and _____’s talk. Right now the healer is making sure that everything is in order while their friends are fighting the Indomitable Alliance.

As the Medicus sees Choi Han and the others attack they remember a conversation they had with Cale last night.

The two are the only ones in the room. Well, the only ones awake. The children are with them but Cale has forced them to sleep because they need the energy for tomorrow. A serving of blueberry crumble paired with jasmine tea is being enjoyed as they talk.

“I plan to create a new history. To bring new heroes forward.”

“And I assume you won’t be part of those heroes?”

_____ asked in a joking manner as they refilled both of their teacups.

“Of course not. I only want to win this war and then go rest at the underground villa peacefully.”

Cale stopped speaking to take a bite out of the dessert.

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask you if you’d like to be part of that history. This battle would be a good opportunity to show everyone that you are alive.”

“I… thank you but it would be unneeded.”

The healer’s immediate answer made Cale look at them in confusion.

“Hmm well, that’s a shame the crown prince was also thinking of giving you the Perduellio’s assets as all of them have been found guilty.”

“Is he? I didn’t know such a thing.”

Of course _____ didn’t. Only Cale and Alberu know of such a thing. They're also the only ones who know the sorry state that family is currently in.

“But still… While I do agree with you that this is a good time to do that I still don’t want to do it. My time in the spotlight was not a good experience for me. It would be enough for me to see our friends be known and bask in that light.”

_____ sipped their tea before continuing.

“There’s also the fact that my adoptive family had committed a grave sin. I don’t think it’s right for me to strive for fame when I am still legally part of that family. I will reveal myself, but it won’t be now. I hope Cale and the crown prince can understand…”

Cale nodded in understanding. He's not cruel enough to force someone to do what he wants just because he wants to hide in the shadows. There are already more than enough heroes that he can push into the spotlight.

“I understand, I’ll inform the crown prince don’t worry about it.”

_____ snapped out of their daydream to focus back on their task. 

At least tried to.

Right about when _____ is about to talk to another knight they saw Cale bleed. The healer would have left it to the priests and healers near the field if it was just Cale’s normal bleeding. But it wasn’t.

Cale is bleeding from basically every orifice of his body.

And his too far away for _____ to accurately see if he's okay.

“I’ll leave the rest to you knight-nim, I must assist our Commander.”

So the healer runs. 

They run the fastest they’ve ever had in their entire left. _____ ran so fast they got there before the healers could.

“__– healer-nim you shouldn’t be here.” 

Countess Violan made sure that the healer’s hood and mask were still intact. The fabric on their face had been removed to aid catch their breath from running. Good thing the hood was still intact so it’s unlikely that anyone has seen their face.

“Countess Violan It’ll be fine. Our priority should be the Commander right now.”

_____ has no way of knowing how at that moment, the Henituse’s respect for them grew even more.

The healer turned to Cale to see him talking to what seemed like the air. That must be why his parents are even more worried right now. It looks like the redhead is hallucinating.

Good thing _____ knows the truth. They know that he isn’t hallucinating and that he isn’t talking to thin air. Good thing they know that the words the young master was uttering are directed at a certain invisible dragon.

"It's fine now, I'll be supporting too."

Those words may seem like it was directed at the Countess and Cale but it was directed towards Raon. It's the healer's way of saying that everything will be fine so Raon better follows Cale's instructions.

_____ can’t see Raon nor can they hear his voice in their head, but they’re sure that the dragon has quieted down since Cale had stopped muttering

“Does healer-nim need help?”

The territory’s healer finally arrived. Meanwhile, _____ has not only aided Cale’s vitality of the heart, but they were also healing Choi Han while supporting Mary.

“Yes please.”

Short responses are the only thing _____ can form right now. They must focus all their strength on supporting three people. Choi Han is especially hard to heal. It’s because the Medicus had only known long-distance healing in theory and had never tried it in person.

The far away and moving Choi Han proved to be a difficult patient but _____ is certain that his recovering little by little from the wounds they are slowly absorbing. 

Drip

Drip

It’s a good thing the colour coding for this event is black. Even as blood drips down their sleeves no one would notice from far away.

But not the people near the Medicus.

Cale’s hand that had been holding onto _____’s arms tightened at the blood dripping down the ground. On the bright side, they are now certain that Choi Han’s shoulder wound is getting better.

Meanwhile, supporting Mary is easier but still proves to be a bit of a challenge. The Medicus has to support her as stealthily as possible to not give away her location. Usually whenever _____ uses her ancient power droplets of water would appear. Then they would cover those droplets with their light ability. 

But they can’t do that right now.

Both would be too flashy and would reveal the necromancer’s location.

So they did the next best thing. Which was making their power travel through the cracks of the ground and the wall.

Doing this while doing long-distance healing and supporting the Vitality of the Heart made _____ use more power and energy than they usually would.

“Leave some of the work to the healers and priests.”

The still pale, but doing much better now, Cale whispered. _____ looked at him to assess his condition using their power. 

“I’m okay Commander, and it looks like you’ll be okay soon too.”

_____ heard Cale sigh but ignored it. Seeing that his being ignored, Cale proceeded to gather himself so he could stand up again.

And that made the healer relieved.

Sure they knew his fine. _____ knows that the young master has a regeneration power. But seeing him being in commission again made it feel real. Especially after seeing them bleed that much.

That relief was short-lived.

Because tell _____ why was the first thing Cale did was use his powers again. The healer swears that one day Cale is gonna give them a heart attack.

Fortunately, the healer and the redhead have similar temperaments. Both can work well under immense stress and pressure while making it seem like they aren’t breaking that much sweat. Thanks to that _____’s composure didn’t falter and they were able to do what they needed to.

Choi Han is still a problem though. Because of the distance, the healer can’t fully heal him.

‘If only I was stronger’

_____ tries to push unnecessary thoughts away.

‘If only I was a saint’

Just as _____ was about to get pulled in by their thoughts, they felt a familiar chubby paw on their shoulder.

“Kind _____ hang in there a bit more, we’re close to winning! I’m going to go help out Choi Han now okay?”

Raon’s bright voice had served as a wake-up call for _____. Thanks to him the healer can fully focus on their task until the very end.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know I could too.”

Cale and _____ are currently on their way to the underground dungeon. Both of them are pale and their clothes are covered with blood but they are walking as if nothing’s wrong.

“When you were at the Paerun Kingdom I started thinking of my powers in a different light, and this was the conclusion of that.”

“But doing this is harder for your body right?”

“As if, you’re one to talk.”

_____ laughed as they saw Cale scrunch his nose at the comment.

“Yes it’s harder but it’s very useful at times like this. It's all thanks to the anatomy books Ron bought for me. Having a more in-depth idea as to how our bodies work allowed me to assess them even from far away.

It’s good to know that as long as someone is within my eyesight I can heal them. Haaa, but I must say, healing Choi Han-nim while he was riding those flying bones is hard.”

Both of them stopped at the entrance of the underground dungeon.

“Since it’s hard and you overexerted yourself, does this mean you’ll leave Choi Han in the hands of other healers?”

The healer laughed again as they waved goodbye. There’s no way Cale is allowing them to enter the dungeon and they have better things to do.

“No promises Cale.”

And if one of those ‘better things to do’ is healing Choi Han, then Cale can find out for himself later.

[halbravd]

stereotypes

pairing: sugar daddy!levi x reader.

summary: having a sugar daddy is all fun and games until you realize he’ll never fuck you if you don’t do something. you have to beg for it, to earn the right of bouncing on his cock — otherwise you’ll never get to know the bliss of being fucked by mister ackerman.

content warning: minors do not interact, implied age gap, use of pet names, dry humping, light bondage, oral & fingering (f. receiving), spitting, overstimulation, degradation, impact play (cunt slapping), hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count: 3k

writer’s note: here’s the reupload i promised! <3

Two months. Two months since it all started, and still nothing from his side. Fresh flowers brought to your apartment every two days, hundreds of dollars sent to your bank account with a little note telling you to buy this or that, dates at the fanciest restaurants… Yet he couldn’t give you so eagerly wanted — Sex. You, who were so afraid he’d ask to fuck you on your first night out, are more confused than ever, as days go by. Why would he buy you so much lingerie if he never planned to see you wearing them one day? Damn. Why was he always so polite, always so distant.

It wasn’t your place to ask him to fuck you senseless… Or was it? The more you think about it, the more you can feel your blood boil in your veins, burning your skin and breaking your heart. It didn’t have to be that personal, yet you just couldn’t help it — If Levi Ackerman was so reluctant when it comes to touch you, you must be the problem.

‘Don’t you find me pretty?’ You break the silence set between the two of you, fingers of yours toying with your fork. Suddenly, the meal in your plate didn’t look as delicious as it used to, long forgotten as the metallic tool played with it for a matter of minutes.

‘If you weren’t I wouldn’t spend a single dollar on you.’ Straight forward, as expected from him. ‘And with the amount of money I’ve spent for your pretty ass, I guess it’s pretty clear.’ Levi adds, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, elbow flush against the glass table. Of course he noticed that something was wrong. As soon as you stepped inside, to be more specific. But would he ask by himself? Surely not — He isn’t your dad or your friend. Most importantly, he thinks you’re old enough to start the conversation.

‘So why don’t you just fuck me instead of playing the cool guy?’ You spit, fork falling in your plate in a loud crash — Metal meeting porcelain. If your words weren’t enough, then it’s probably the tone in your voice that made his eyebrows furrow. Maybe you shouldn’t have raised your voice, maybe you should have tried to act like he didn’t affect you one bit. But this man always knows everything, and hiding things from him has been proven useless, many times.

‘Ah. This is what makes you so angry, after all… Hurts your ego, princess?’ The raven head mutters, a single raise of his finger enough to dismiss the few domestics standing there — He didn’t need them to hear such an important conversation after all. Especially if you decide to throw a tantrum out of the blue. ‘Beg for it, then.’

Eyes widening at his words, you almost choked on your own saliva, taken aback by the sudden change in his eyes. It took you a while to understand he was absolutely serious, silver eyes boring into you until you no longer feel safe in this damn room. It’s a matter of seconds before you feel hopelessly small and vulnerable, teeth nervously nibbling at your lower lip and eyes avoiding his piercing gaze. But there is something so arousing in the way he’s staring at you. The way he straightens his back and waits for an answer, savoring the moment — You can feel it down there, how wet and hot you’re becoming, lace panties damp and sticky.

‘Please, fuck me.’ Damn you didn’t mean to look so desperate. Whimpering like this when he hasn’t even touched you yet, struggling to swallow your own saliva.

‘Come on, be a bit more convincing. You can do much better than that,’ he snorts, and that’s enough to have tears rising to your pretty eyes. He won’t give it to you so easily, and it’s now too late to step back. Of course you could just leave this huge penthouse of his, petty and angry. But that problem sitting so nicely between your legs won’t go away so easily, and he’s the only answer to it.

Putting away your pride for the night, you’re quick to get on your feet, only to kneel right before his eyes, arms wrapped around one of his leg, and cheek rubbing against his thigh. The sight is painfully sinful. So filthy it has his cock throbbing in his pants and his heart missing a beat. Mind flooded with the nastiest thoughts, Adam apple slowly bobbing in his dry throat, he watches you grind your hips against his black polished shoe, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

‘Please Levi, fuck me,’ voice just above a whisper, your chin is met with two of his fingers, the latter lifting your face up so you could see how dark his eyes got. How blown wide his pupils are — All just because of you.

‘I want you naked on my bed. I’ll be there in five.’ Levi mutters, loosening the grip on your chin until he’s no longer holding it. Eyes of yours brighten up at his words, and you’re quick to follow his order, stuttering a bunch of thank yous on your way out.

Saying you walked to his bedroom was an understatement — You literally ran to it, just like you feared he’d change his mind. And you were ridiculously fast at getting rid of your clothes, something he would have definitely mocked you for if he was there, witnessing it all.

But you know how to be obedient when needed, and this is why you’re sitting on his bed all nicely for him, eyes focused on the closed door, painfully aware of your surroundings. Excitation rushed through your veins when you heard his footsteps getting closer and closer. Your mouth salivated when you saw the doorknob slowly rotating.

All of this was nothing compared to the blissful sight he was met with once he opened the door. If he always found you pretty, you were nothing but gorgeous. He stood there, shamelessly staring at your bare body, from your beautiful face to the birth of your breast, your stomach and your exposed pussy — Glistening under the warm lights of his bedroom. It was worth the wait. It was worth the painful rides back home, cock hard as a rock, begging to be taken care of. It was worth waking up in the middle of the night at the thought of you, stroking his hard dick to soothe the accumulated tension.

He wants to ruin you. To wreck that perfect body until it’s clear as day that you’re his. And acting calm and collected becomes more and more difficult, especially when he’s met with those two eyes — Pleading and desperate.

‘On all fours. Ass up.’ Levi orders, and you comply. Cheek buried in the mattress, hands resting from either side of your face, you arch your back oh so nicely, ass in the air and legs slightly spread.

All you can hear is the sound of his hands fumbling with his belt, his pants falling on the ground, soon followed by his dress shirt. The mattress dips under his weight, his cock resting against your ass and eliciting the sweetest gasp off your mouth. His hands trap your wrists, bringing them to the small of your back and tying them together with his leather belt — That makes you frown, mouth opening to protest.

‘You’ve been bad, you don’t deserve to touch me tonight. Be good or I’ll teach you how to behave.’ Levi hisses, not giving you any opportunity to defend yourself. So all you do is groan, a quick nod of your head in approval.

The palm of his hands find their way to your ass, spreading your cheeks to have a clear view of your pussy — Covered in slick, eager to be touched and filled. So much better than the dessert waiting for him downstairs. Hollowing his cheeks, he opens his mouth enough for a ball of saliva to fall close to your fluttering hole, goosebumps adorning your skin.

’Such a pretty cunt just for me, I’m such a lucky man.’ If Levi wasn’t very chatty, he was now the opposite side of the spectrum. Cursing under his breath, praising you for having such a nice body and degrading you for being a needy slut. But all that shame that was burning your face vanished as soon as his tongue got his first ever taste of you, licking a long stripe up your clit, flickering the sensitive bud with the tip of it. It makes you gasp and writhe underneath, eyes rolling at the back of your head and nails digging in the palm of your own hands.

He’s all over the place, and that slowly drives you insane — Pinching your clit with his thumb and index finger, fucking you with his tongue and spreading your folds, always looking for more. But as much as he loves how sweet you taste, it’s the sounds you make that keeps him going. Whispers of his name, high pitched moans when he takes care of that particular spot of yours, breathless gasps when he dips a finger inside.

He can feel your walls fluttering, two knuckles deep enough for him to rub that spongy spot that has your legs shaking and your head spinning. And when his thumb draws tight circles on your swollen clit, you feel yourself unravel right before his eyes. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he has you trapped. You can’t go anywhere, even when you’re trying to squirm away because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

‘Levi… I’m gonna—‘ your voice breaks mid-sentence, the coil in your stomach snapping so furiously it pulls a soft scream out of your throat. You’re writhing and moaning, warm juice spilling from your tight hole only to be avidly collected by his hungry tongue. He doesn’t stop either, pumping his fingers in and out of you, lapping your folds and slapping your clit until you’re crying and begging him to stop, too sensitive to keep going.

But even in that state, you’re quick to realize he isn’t doing it for you, but for his own pleasure. Eating you out like a starved man, addicted to your whimpers and the way your back arches so prettily. It’s only when he’s satisfied with how messy your pussy looks, only when his sheets are drenched in your cum, your tears and your drool that he finally straightens his back, chin glistening and lips swollen.

You wish you could see more of him, the blurry view of his face through your watery eyes not even close to be enough for you. But when you try to speak, to ask if you’re allowed yo get on your back, all that spills off your mouth is a bunch of senseless babbles, and a pitiful hiccup. And that makes him chuckle. Evil man’s firm grip on your hip, free hand fisting his cock so the tip of it could slap your sloppy cunt. You whine and he smirks, collecting your arousal and teasing your entrance until you’re crying all over again.

‘Crying like a baby? My little slut doesn’t like to be played with? What a shame.’ And fuck how pretty it is, to hear you sob and cry because of him. That makes his cock grow impossibly harder, string of profanities leaving his lips when the head of his cock stretches your pussy. It’s so tight he’s wondering if all can fit — But he will make sure it will. There’s no way he would be satisfied with only the half of it. He needs to be balls deep in you, has to feel your walls around his cock, and the tip of it nudged against the deepest spot in you.

But there is no way you wouldn’t be good for him, right? So you take him just like he wants to, inch by inch, until he finally bottoms out with a low grunt. Heart vibrating in your chest, air stuck in your burning lungs, it’s like you can feel him in your throat, the veins adorning his cock grazing against your velvet walls and turning you into a whimpering mess. If he isn’t necessarily thick, his length makes up for it — It makes you see stars and lose track of time, pussy fluttering around him as you’re adjusting to his cock.

‘You’re so fucking tight. None of your college boys did a great job at fucking you, right?’ Levi hisses, leaning forward so his lips could kiss the warm flesh of your shoulder, messy and wet.

The grip on your hips is unforgiving, promise of bruises that are yet to paint your skin. The need to break you grows more and more intense, and the urge not to pound into you right now gets unbearable. Hurting you would be like breaking a toy he had for Christmas only a few hours after its addition to his collection, and he wouldn’t want to do that to you… Or does he?

You’re babbling again and that’s what makes his hips rock against yours, each of his thrust stealing the air off your throat, making your body jolts forward. It’s a toe-curling pace, his hips crashing against your ass fervently and with so much strength — He waited so long for this, he doesn’t find the courage to keep it slow and steady anymore. If it wasn’t for the grip on your hips, you’ll be flying god knows where.

‘Please… More…’ you struggle, but the words are there. Eyes turning white, hands wriggling in a failed attempt to get rid of his belt, all you can do is moan and take what he has to give you without a complaint.

‘Such a slut. Hopeless.’ He grunts, one of his hands flying to your hair, fisting them in a messy ponytail and yanking your head backward. He wants to see those pretty eyes of yours, the tears falling down your cheeks and staining your skin with mascara. He wants to see the disheveled look on your face and the way your mouth hangs open shamelessly, inked in his mind forever.

You don’t even know how he managed to, be he did as he’s told — Faster, deeper. How can such a small man be so brutal — That’s a question you’ll have plenty of time to think about… But not right now. Unable to think or speak, you can’t even warn him of your upcoming orgasm. Strangled moans fall off your mouth messily, gummy walls clamping down on him like a vice and making it almost impossible for him to keep going.

But when he’s struggling to chase his high, you’re too far away to care. Making a mess on his sheets, being so vocal about your own pleasure you fail to hear him groan and pant. A few more deep thrusts was all it took for Levi to reach his end, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim and dripping off your abused cunt. It has his grip on your hair tightening, bringing you back to reality only for you to hear the prettiest sounds on earth.

There’s something about how whiny he gets when he finishes, how sensitive his cock becomes when he keeps fucking into you to make sure you won’t lose a single drop of his cum, that makes you shiver. Letting go of your hair and resting on his heels, Levi’s hands grab your waist only to bring you closer to him, your ass flush against his hips and his cock still buried deep.

He’s a sight for sore eyes — Beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and the tip of his nose, muscles flexing and wet strands of hair falling before his eyes, hips still stuttering and chest heaving. All he needs is a few seconds to go back to his usual self, but even with that, he’s not quite ready to let go of this sweet pussy of yours.

[damned-punk]

A Little Visit (Captain Kidd x Reader)

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Content Warning: nsfw, oral sex (f! receiving), kissing, masturbation

Content Description: afab!reader decides to visit Kidd in his workshop during a boring day at sea and things get physical ♡

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It had been a rather calm day at sea, especially by the standards of the Victoria Punk, which led to the Captain tinkering away in his workshop. You couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him, but his position as your Captain complicated things. It never seemed to be the right time to approach him and there was certainly never a great time to talk things over. Building up courage and resolving to take advantage of today’s uneventful opportunities, you approached his door. You hadn’t worked out what you wanted to say or if you even wanted to get into everything at this very moment, but you knew you wanted to see him and that was reason enough to indulge in your thoughts.

You knocked a few times to let him know you were coming in but you expected no response. When he was locked in on a project, there was very little that could pry him away from his tools. This time was no different but you were caught off guard a bit when you saw him draped over an indecipherable hunk of metal parts, shirtless with toned muscles and garish scars glistening from a sheen of fresh sweat. His hair was loose over his forehead as his goggles sat in their intended position over his eyes. You had to stifle a giggle when you noticed he was wearing a glove on his remaining hand which was a fashionable choice against his largely unprotected torso.

“What in the hell could you possibly be doing that requires gloves but no shirt?”, you teased, hoping he was in a playful mood so he wouldn’t kick you out.

“Like what you see sweetheart?”, he teased back and while you were grateful he played into it, the sudden red flush of your cheeks ruined your chance at a poker face.

You weren’t sure of what to say, so you shook your head and closed the door behind you. He kept on with his tools for a moment, the pink dusting across his cheeks going entirely unnoticed as he turned in a way that shielded his face from view. You took a seat on the top of one of his workbenches and glanced around at the various creations scattered about the room. Just as you picked up an articulated wrench to play with, he slid his goggles back onto his head, removed the glove, and wiped his face with a rag as he approached you.

“Alright, what in the hell d’ya need this time?”, his words were rough but you knew it was all in good fun.

“Nothing in particular…”, after putting some thought into what else to say, you let the words fall from your lips despite the fact that there was no turning back once they were said, “I suppose I just wanted to come see you.”

The mood was too perfect and the environment afforded no distractions from an interaction that needed to happen. His height was exacerbated due to your position on the table and something about being even smaller in his presence was flustering you to the point that the air in the room grew awkward. Even with his inflated ego being the size of the ship itself and his confidence being a strong contender, he struggled when it came to you. Of course he felt the same but he wasn’t really good at vocalizing intimate feelings. He was a man of action, not so much of words.

He closed the space between the two of you and rested his hands on the table at your sides, he was giving you the opportunity to take it to the next step. If you could’ve been in his position, you’d likely laugh at how nervous he was. It felt like he was a damn teenage girl and couldn’t stop himself from getting jittery. Your face was inches from his own and despite the fact that he was the notoriously violent Eustass Captain Kidd, his soft spot was on full display just for you.

“Well, I’m right here…”, his voice was much deeper, more sincere than before and seemed to be laced with hints of desire.

You leaned up and just barely brushed the tip of your nose against his. He wasn’t sure of what to do, especially considering that the very minimal physical contact was already causing him to become warm below the waist. There was a fine line between playful flirting and genuine emotional connection. This game of push and pull had gone on long enough and he knew that if things didn’t work out he’d obviously retain his position as Captain, but his worries were substantiated when considering what would happen with you. Would you be able to fall in line under him as a member of his crew after something like that? He certainly couldn’t handle you leaving, the weight of never seeing you again was too daunting to even consider as a possibility. He’d been through that once, never again. Maybe he was over complicating this whole thing.

But it didn’t matter anymore, especially not when you lifted your hands to rest on his chest. Your eyes bore into his own and provided such a sense of security that he resolved to finally press his painted lips to yours. He’d wanted to do this for so long and the feeling was surprisingly comforting. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and wasted no time in deepening the kiss as you parted your lips for him. Your hands had made their way to his dampened hair, gently tugging to signify you needed some air.

He pulled away and admired the smears he’d left behind, splotches of his favorite shade accentuating your puffy lips. As you averted your gaze from his with a flushed face, he knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to rush you into going all the way, especially not in this very tender moment, but he couldn’t deny that he yearned for more physical contact. Kidd placed a few kisses to your cheeks and gradually made his way to your neck. He sucked and nipped in all the right places leaving you with a warm feeling all over.

“Do you trust me?”, he whispered into your ear as he massaged the plush of your thighs.

“Of course I do, Captain.”, you shakily answered back, admiring his pleased expression as he stood up to retrieve his fuzzy coat.

He positioned the coat behind you in a way that provided you with support as he coaxed you to lay back against his workbench. He removed the goggles from his head and made sure to lock the door before devoting all of his attention back to you.

“I wanna show you how I feel about you…”, he pulled a chair up to the workbench and sat himself down, placing his hand on your hip where he began playing with the waistband of your pants.

As he gently tugged off your bottoms with ease, embarrassment began to over shadow your presence in the moment. You knew he wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t want to but it was something new that you hadn’t ever experienced with him. Kidd hadn’t even seen you without a shirt on and now he’d be seeing the most nerve wracking area a person could ever show their partner. He recognized that you were struggling with the situation and gave you a reassuring smile as he admired your mostly exposed body.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about sweetheart. I’m right here… if anything feels wrong or you wanna stop, just let me know.”, he started kissing up your legs and the anticipation of what was to come filled your mind.

He positioned each of your legs to rest over his shoulders and pressed light kisses to your sex. His teasing didn’t last long as he was becoming impatient with his own ministrations. His warm, wet tongue danced along your folds and mixed with your own slick to elicit a symphony of erotic sounds in the room. As he worked to build up your arousal, he began sucking your clit and moaned when your nails scratched at his scalp. A repetitive smacking noise began to sound from below you and when it dawned on you what was making the noise, you felt a tightness clamp in your belly. Kidd was pumping himself as he coated his senses in you. The intensity of this little visit was growing exponentially, your mind practically swimming with the realization that he was getting off on pleasuring you.

“Captain… K-Kidd…”, you moaned out to him which only riled him up further, his pace becoming audibly faster.

You could tell he was close to his own orgasm as he stabilized himself using his prosthetic on the edge on the table. You weren’t far behind, especially with his chin pressed flush against your opening, unrelentingly sucking on your most sensitive spot. When you felt him shiver under your legs, you unbuckled beneath him and came in his mouth. He peppered kisses all over your wet pussy as you rode out your high and made quick work slipping your bottoms on, pulling you into his lap to relax after such strenuous activity. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, him turning your head to face him when your breathing stabilized.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself…”, Kidd kissed you once on the lips and playfully attacked your face with small pecks.

“You’re such a nerd.”, you teased him while resting your head on his shoulder, “I hope you enjoyed yourself, Captain.”

Just as Kidd sucked in a breath to respond, the jiggling of the door handle and loud banging on the door made you jump. You frantically began rubbing the red smudges from your mouth causing Kidd to cackle, his own disheveled appearance would give you away irregardless of your actions.

“Dinner’s ready!”, Killer’s voice yelled from outside, the locked handle telling him everything he needed to know.

“Let’s eat…”, Kid spoke, causing you to huff lightly as the two of you stood and adjusted yourselves for dinner, “Y’know princess, you could sit on my lap in the dinning hall if you want.”

“Yeah… I hear ya.”, you teased, following him out the door whilst mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of comments awaiting you from crewmates who definitely noticed the two of you exiting his workshop together.

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[luna-rainbow]

I liked the Russo bros until I heard an interview with them made about 4-5 years ago (just after Endgame I think) where they elaborated on why Bucky didn't get the shield.

It made me really mad how flippant they were about Bucky's "mind being damaged" and then started joking about him being crazy and dangerous. They even said at one point that he was "corrupted".

Just the amount of ableism was horrific. Mental health issues and brain damage do not arise from or make a person morally corrupt.

I get that Bucky would not have wanted the shield before the HYDRA programming was removed (which it had been by that point) but seriously? Also, why should having trauma or mental health issues disqualify someone from being Captain America?

Ah yes, the good ole ableism.

Much of the MCU is incredibly ableist. I think the modern world, despite all our efforts, still segregates disabled people from view. A lot of writers, especially if they come from comfortable upper/middle-class families and smooth-sailed through college, would never have had much interaction with a visibly disabled person as a fellow human.

Mental health is an invisible disability and still often seen as a weakness of the will. I think this is part of the disdain for Bucky and this weird push in TFATWS to write him into a Generic Dude. This is why Zemo says “there’s never been another Steve Rogers” because Bucky’s mind did break, and it broke because (the writers) see him as weak-willed and deficient, rather than because…withstanding 70 years of torture is something none of us can fathom.

I can’t find the post from a while ago (Tumblr being Tumblr) but someone wrote an essay about disabled characters in the MCU and the fact that disability is used as a narrative tool to signal a punishment for moral deficiency. And their (unnatural) regaining of their abilities as a nod to them recognising the error of their ways. The example they used was Rhodes, who was “punished” by becoming paraplegic then regaining his walking when he reconciled with the rest of the Avengers. (Civil War being what it was, I’m genuinely not sure that the writers felt Steve was the correct side, but anyhow)

But this theory is particularly true in how Bucky is written and what each generation of writers have said about him. The arm, once bearing the insignia of wings and now bearing the red star, was a visible symbol of what happens to his mind — a soldier’s failure, having his identity and loyalty ripped from him, and another new, deadlier identity transplanted against his will. But a failure nonetheless, because a real hero wouldn’t have fallen. And this is why in Civil War, the arm needed to be forcibly taken from him, because it was a mark of his identity as the Winter Soldier and of his crimes against a hero’s family. The arm is then given to him in Infinity War as an opportunity for atonement, to fight for the “greater good” (as if fighting against Nazis wasn’t right there in his history). And he is reminded in TFATWS it can be taken away at any time if he misbehaves, that no matter how hard he works that original flaw will always hang over him and any minor mistake needs to be punished to bring him back in line (a point reinforced by Sam’s constant jibing at his time as a prisoner).

And then people wonder why Bucky fans are pissed off about the gross ableism.