#Document Control Training Course

[ecomanonline]

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[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

You can find Option B here

[tibby-art]

hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..

haven’t been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :’D ill include them under cut

=+=

“This better be something good,” Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered ‘boring’ missions to be a waste of his time.

“I hope so,” Cub hummed. “Hope so.”

The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.

“Holy mother of—! Knock next time, will you?” A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.

“The Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,” Scar said casually. Cub snickered.

“Sure, whatever.” Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but he’s busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.” He huffed, composing himself. “Your new top-secret project. This one’s a doozy. Have a look.”

Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.

What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.

“Who’s this?” Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?

“That is Grian,” Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. “Grian has been with us at the NHO for months.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Scar remarked.

“Grian’s case is top-secret. He’s been staying in high-security, private quarters… as well as our research laboratories.”

“I thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,” Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadn’t heard a single word spoken to him.

“Cub? What’s the deal?” Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?

“Watchers?” Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“After months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,” Beef nodded slowly.

Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.

“So this is not a hit,” Scar said after a moment.

“This is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,” Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.

“Mortal, you say?” Cub raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Beef said. “She was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything… dangerous happened.”

“So,” Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, “If this isn’t a hit, then what do you want from us?”

Beef sighed. “After months of testing to determine Grian’s situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, we’d like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.”

“You want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,” Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Scar put both hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“I suppose we could give it a shot,” Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.

“Sure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,” Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.

“You’ll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,” Beef instructed. “Hand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldn’t help but grin wider when he noticed Cub’s hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.

“Don’t be late. I’m serious this time,” Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.

=+=

The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.

“So, how about introductions?” Doc clapped his hands together. “Er… Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.”

The ConVex hadn’t taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.

“Well hello there,” Scar greeted. “I’m Scar, and this is Cub.”

“Hey, hey,” Cub said quietly.

“Hello,” The corner of Grian’s mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.

The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.

“Wonderful introduction. Now that we’ve broken the ice, let’s talk about your next mission.” The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.

“Before we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,” Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVex’s direction.

A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.

At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.

“Oh, are we boring you, sir?” Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.

“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.

“As I was saying,” Bdubs continued loudly.

Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasn’t.

Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed?

Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.

The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until they’ve forgotten, or they think you’ve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.

“Quit it,” Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.

After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!” Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.

The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.

“Sorry,” Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. “Just had to stretch a bit.” He stared back at Bdubs innocently.

The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. “Well, regardless, I think we’ve about summed things up,” he grumbled.

Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.

Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.

=+=

[chadobi]

Bayverse TMNT Boys React to Reader’s Specific Talent (Headcanons)

Leonardo – Reader is a talented calligrapher and traditional artist

•Leo spots your sketchpad one day and flips it open expecting doodles… only to find perfectly executed calligraphy and serene ink drawings of Japanese landscapes, spiritual symbols, and even his katana.

•He’s quiet for a moment, flipping pages. “You drew these?”

•“It’s meditative,” you say, handing him a brush. “Want to try?”

•He’s reluctant, but soon you’re teaching him how to hold the brush, how to let his breathing guide the strokes.

•It becomes a bonding ritual: silent, focused time together with tea and ink.

•You even start writing him notes in delicate calligraphy. He saves every single one.

•On your birthday, he gives you a blank scroll. “Your art brings me peace. I figured… maybe you’d share it with me.”

Raphael – Reader is an amateur boxer who trains for fun

•You two are sparring in the dojo and Raph’s holding back — until you duck, twist, and land a perfect shot to his side (with love, of course).

•“Holy hell,” he grunts, grinning wide. “Where’d you learn that?”

•”Boxing gym. Did it for confidence. Didn’t think I’d need it to fight a mutant turtle boyfriend.”

•He’s impressed, like genuinely hyped. It’s not about strength — it’s your footwork, your fire, your control.

•You start training together. It turns into flirt-sparring: punches, banter, the occasional kiss mid-round.

•He brags about you to everyone. “My girl? She could drop you.”

•When you knock out a would-be mugger one night with a clean jab, Raph is so proud he forgets to throw a punch himself.

Donatello – Reader is a speed reader with a photographic memory

•He hands you a blueprint to get your opinion, expecting to explain every detail… but you just skim it and respond with a perfect breakdown.

•He blinks. “Wait… did you just memorize that whole thing?”

•“Yeah? I’ve always had a weird memory for stuff like this.”

•You casually reveal that you can quote entire books, recite news articles, or remember the order of a deck of cards after glancing at it.

•He’s fascinated. He starts testing you — hands you technical documents just to see if you can do it. You always can.

•You become his research buddy. You read things ten times faster and summarize like a pro.

•“You’re like… my living database,” he says in awe.

Michelangelo – Reader is a skilled dancer

•One night you’re goofing off while music plays, and you suddenly drop into a freestyle routine — clean footwork, isolations, body rolls that are way too smooth.

•Mikey’s jaw hits the floor. “WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT???”

•He jumps in immediately, turning it into a dance battle that ends in both of you panting, laughing, and collapsing into a tangled mess on the floor.

•From that point on, dance-offs are your love language.

•He starts choreographing silly couple dances for TikTok (even if you don’t post them), and begs you to teach him your slickest moves.

•You make him playlists, he makes you custom LED sneakers.

•”You’re like a human rhythm goddess,” he says. “And lucky for me, I’m your #1 backup dancer.”

[xanneeeyyyy]

Not again, Damnit!

A/N: Be sure to check out the masterlist for the rest of the series! Tho, this can be read as a standalone—it’s up to you. Enjoy!

Wherein Katsuki Bakugou’s girlfriend ends up lost again, all thanks to All Might.

Ground Beta – Training Grounds, 6:45 PM

The evening sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over Ground Beta, where Class 1-A was in the brink of training.

Explosions cracked through the air, ice spread across the pavement, and bursts of lightning flickered as the students pushed themselves to their limits.

Well—most of them.

"Ugh…" you groaned, dropping onto a bench near the sidelines. "Five more minutes… just five…"

You weren’t slacking off—you had just been training hard all day. Your muscles screamed for a break, and honestly, if you moved another inch, your legs might have filed for divorce.

Meanwhile, All Might paced nearby, looking increasingly… stressed. "Ugh… this paperwork… these meetings… SO MANY RESPONSIBILITIES!" he muttered, rubbing his temples. You tilted your head. "Sensei?" He blinked, noticing you for the first time. "Ah, Young Y/N!"

"You okay?"

He sighed dramatically. "I didn’t know being a teacher would be this stressful! So many administrative duties."

You snorted. "So, what I’m hearing is... you have paperwork."

"MUCH paperwork!" he groaned. "And now Present Mic just informed me that he needs these signed documents immediately. But alas, I am needed elsewhere! I—" He froze.

Then he looked at you.

Then back at the folder in his hand.

Then back at you.

You blinked. "…Sensei?"

"Young Y/N…" He smiled brilliantly. "Would you be willing to do me a small favor?"

You perked up. "Of course! What do you need?"

He beamed. "Could you deliver these documents to Present Mic for me? He should be in the faculty office!"

You immediately stood up. "Consider it done!"

And just like that—you took off.

Without telling a single soul

least of all, him.

7:30 PM – Heights Alliance Dorms

Training had ended, and the class had returned to the dorms, exhausted but satisfied. Except for one very important detail.

"…Where the hell is my girlfriend?" Bakugou asked.

Silence

Everyone froze.

Kirishima blinked. "Wait… wasn’t she with us at training?"

"I saw her on the bench earlier," Mina said. "She was resting!"

"But did she come back with us?"

Everyone exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Momo immediately checked her phone. "She’s not answering."

"WHAT?!" Bakugou’s eye twitched. "SHE HAS HER PHONE, RIGHT?!"

Kaminari scratched his head. "I mean, probably?"

Bakugou stood up so fast his chair nearly flipped. "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!”

"Calm down!" Lida waved his hands robotically. "She’s probably just—"

A knock at the door. Everyone turned.

Standing there—was Aizawa.

"...Where’s Y/N? I need to ask her something," he asked.

Silence.

"YOU’VE GOTTA TO BE FUCKING SHITTING ON ME!" Bakugou roared.

Aizawa blinked. "…She’s not here?"

Kirishima gasped. "YOU DON’T KNOW EITHER?!"

Momo clutched her chest. "OH MY GOD,”

Mina’s hands flew to her head. "NOT AGAIN!"

Aizawa frowned. "…Again?"

Bakugou stormed forward. "WHAT DID YOU DO, SENSEI?!"

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. "I didn’t do anything. All Might asked her to do a favor earlier,"

Pure. Deafening. Silence.

"THAT DAMN OLD MAN!" Bakugou exploded.

Kaminari collapsed onto the couch. "I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS."

"SENSEI, CONTROL YOUR COLLEAGUES!" Everyone pleaded.

Aizawa sighed. "…I should’ve seen this coming."

"NO SHIT!"

Todoroki, ever calm, simply asked, "Where did she go?"

"The faculty office," Aizawa answered.

Bakugou’s vein popped.

"SHE LEFT BEFORE TRAINING ENDED. IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!" Mina clutched her heart. "SHE PROBABLY GOT LOST IN THE HALLWAYS!"

"Someone call the police," Kaminari whispered.

Aizawa rubbed his temples. "I’ll go find her." Bakugou pushed past him. "LIKE HELL YOU WILL—I’M GETTING HER MYSELF!"

"Bakugou—"

"NO! I’M BRINGING HER BACK BEFORE SHE ENDS UP IN A DIFFERENT PREFECTURE!"

Aizawa sighed. "Fine. Let’s go."

And with that—Bakugou was gone.

“I’m not paid enough to handle all of this crap —especially that hopelessly directionless child," Aizawa thought to himself as he ran to catch up with Bakugou.

"…freak."

You had delivered the documents perfectly fine. But then you’d taken a "shortcut" back to the dorms and…

Yeah. A shortcut

And now, you were somewhere in UA’s labyrinth of hallways—completely and utterly lost. "Okay… if I go left…" You turned the corner. "Wait, I just passed this vending machine—"

Then, footsteps.

Loud. Fast. Angry.

"—THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS?!"

Your soul left your body.

Katsuki and Aizawa-sensei.

And judging by the sheer fury in Katsuki’s voice, you were beyond dead.

Really, really dead.

Slowly, cautiously, you peeked around the corner— Only to make direct eye contact with a very, very pissed-off Bakugou.

"…Oh," you whispered.

"…Hi, S-Suki?"

His eye twitched.

"YOU."

Pure survival instinct kicked in as you turned and bolted in the opposite direction. "GET BACK HERE, DUMBASS!"

"NOOOOOOO!!! YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME!!!" you shrieked, running blindly through the halls, your only thought being escape from Katsuki’s wrath at all costs.

"WAHHH, MITSUKI-SAN, PLEASE SAVE ME!!!"

"NOT EVEN THAT OLD HAG CAN SAVE YOUR ASS NOW!"

The door slammed open. Katsuki stormed in, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of rice and the entire class erupted.

"Y/N!"

"WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU PUT US THROUGH?!"

Bakugou then continued to walk up to the elevator and pushed the button to his floor. "YOU’RE NEVER GOING ANYWHERE ALONE AGAIN!" He grumbled

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm implementing a rule."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Todoroki, completely unfazed, took a slow slurp of his soba. "She needs a leash."

You gawked. "HEY!

“SUK!! AREN’T YOU GONNA BE MAD AT THAT?! A LEASH?!"

"Tch. At this point? Not a bad idea."

Your jaw dropped. "EXCUSE ME?! If anyone needs a leash, it's YOU! You’re the one who barks at people like a damn rabid dog!"

Bakugou’s eye twitched. "OH YEAH?! AT LEAST I DON’T GET LOST LIKE A CLUELESS FUCKING CHIHUAHUA!"

You gasped dramatically. "HOW DARE YOU—"

Before you could fire back, Deku cautiously raised a hand. "Uh, actually… Kacchan does kind of, um… bark a lot."

Bakugou’s head snapped toward him so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY, DEKU?!"

Deku paled. "N-Nothing! I didn’t say anything!"

Just then, the ding of the elevator echoed through the hall. The elevator door opened and he stepped inside. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU SHITTY POMERANIAN!" you huffed, squirming in his grip. "NOPE. YOU'LL JUST WANDER OFF AGAIN, DUMBASS," he shot back, tightening his hold as you kicked your legs in protest.

"I WILL NOT—"

"LIKE HELL YOU WON’T! YOU GOT LOST IN OUR OWN SCHOOL!"

You scowled, arms crossed as best as you could in your undignified position. "I would've found my way eventually!"

Bakugou scoffed. "Tch. Yeah, maybe in a week."

Then the door shut leaving them in the common room. Everyone turned to Aizawa. "From now on," he said, dead serious, "Y/N must have a chaperone at all times."

Silence.

The class cheered

"THANK YOU, SENSEI!"

"BEST RULE EVER!"

And thus—the new rule was born.

Extra:

Katsuki and you were now in his dorm.

Bakugou crossed his arms, smirking triumphantly. "FINALLY. AN ENCLOSED SPACE." You groaned, still hanging over his shoulder. "THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!" He kicked the door shut behind him. "MEANS YOU CAN’T RUN, DUMBASS."

Your eyes widened. "WAIT—"

Without warning, he unceremoniously dropped you onto his bed. You bounced slightly before sitting up, shooting him a glare. "YOU COULD’VE PUT ME DOWN LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR DAMN PRINCESS?!" Bakugou smirked, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. "Yeah? And what kind of dumbass princess gets lost in her own castle?"

You gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "EXCUSE ME?!" He shrugged. "Face it, princess. You need a royal guard—ME—so you don’t go wandering off like a lost puppy." You grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at his face.

"ASSHOLE!"

A/N: Part 3? Let me know in the comments 💟 Thank you for all the hearts and reblogs as well, trully appreciate it 🥰

© 2025 CODE:BKXY— All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[arabella0001]

𓍯 . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱〔 favourite lieutenant 〕 ⊰

✧ ⋆ ͘ . ⠀ cn: slow burn, slight?power control, oral, sex

part 1 part 2

idk what happened but now we have 5-6k words sorry🙂‍↔️

┈─┈─┈─

Swinging from foot to foot, the stress from waiting in line at the supplier at Kidō Troops was making you pick your nails like you always do when you’re stressed. You’re close to being late again and now you really don’t wanna upset Captain Kuchiki.

They have the majority of military weapons, including swords — including your sword. Not because you chose them instead of the Gotei 13 and Onmitsukidō, but because you are part of them.

You chose Shin’ō Academy because this academy does not teach students to fight for the sake of their superiors or family. Instead, they taught that a Shinigami should give his life to protect his friends and humanity.

Or lover. What you want to do to Byakuya soon.

Finally, your turn comes, and the man, dressed in the usual uniform that covers the entire head and body except the eyes, steps forward. It gives them a secretive nature, and you love that about it.

You swore you caught Byakuya’s eyes glint for a second after you uncovered your face — the first time you arrived in Gotei 13 to replace Renji during his honeymoon with Rukia.

After taking the smaller-shaped sword, similar to Kenpachi’s magnificent one because you love how he fights — a true inspiration. God, that man is feral.

This sword comes with a very unique blade design made of carbon steel, with a serrated outer edge and a touch of purple color, a one-meter ribbon tied in a zig-zag at the end. The world needs a little bit of sweetness sometimes.

Not that it’s uncharacteristic for you to be late, but Byakuya had been quite exaggerated and “brutal” with the last lessons. You only managed to tease him at the end or at the beginning, because during the fight you prayed not to die.

What’s admirable is that you’ve started making Byakuya talk more. Sometimes surprising him with questions no one has ever asked before.

. ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ . ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡

“What’s your favourite book?”

While you’re catching your breath after the training, Byakuya was organizing the papers for the next meeting one more time. He gave you only a side-eye, replying in a low voice.

“I don’t see how my answer bears relevance or productivity in your training performance, especially obedience.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back. I can be obedient in other ways, Kuchiki.

“Just answer.”

Byakuya shot you a glare for your way of addressing him.

“Captain.”

Byakuya’s composed demeanor was disrupted by a hint of irritation, as he found your big, pleading eyes somewhat convincing.

“Meditations – Marcus Aurelius.”

His voice is serious, punctuated while yours came after a snort.

“Of course.”

He pulled the documents into a folder, holding them in his hand and turning from you, his gaze just curious enough (very slightly) to prompt you to continue.

“Of course you read something like that, duh.” You get up from the mat and adjust your clothes a bit, worn out from overuse. “A stoic emperor aspiring to self-control, justice, talking about dignity.” He can’t lie, you did surprise him a bit with your summary, even if it was superficial, you were right. “Can I be the empress of a stoic man?”

His surprise faded, ignoring your flirt as he turned and began walking toward the door when you joined him.

“So I take it your favorite is A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole?”

You grinned, following him. He just teased me? Fuck, I wanted him even more.

The protagonist of the book is eccentric, lazy, and constantly out of sync with society’s expectations, including time. A hilarious exploration of procrastination and stubbornness.

. ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ . ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡

But you also had moments when you lost hope. You knew from the beginning that this was a long run but a woman can hope.

After going on a mission that seemed normal at first but was more brutal than the strategy predicted, his protectiveness was the first thing that touched your heart.

You only felt his soft noble robe against your cheeks, embraced by his strong arms around you and carefully carrying your fragile body to the infirmary. He personally asked the team not to interfere because “It’s a Captain’s duty to ensure his lieutenant is well treated.”

You barely lift your defeated face, slightly covered in dirt from the ambush.

“Byakuya?”

Your informality was insignificant compared to how he felt seeing you hurt. Despite his coldness, Byakuya always had a good heart, caring for humanity — especially his people. But his eyes told you something you didn’t understand at the time. Neither did he, because it was the beginning of his walls breaking around his soul.

“Don’t talk, lieutenant. Preserve your energy, lest I be compelled to escort you to the healer posthaste.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you, Byakuya.”

Your trembling voice from exhaustion made your words strike harder. His grip tightened around you.

“It’s nothing. Just refrain from such behavior again.”

. ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ . ݁ ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡

And that was the time when Byakuya’s routine started being disrupted. He came to check on your well-being even when the deadline for his duties was approaching. On top of that, when you returned, the intense “obedience” training stopped. Even if you teased him, he quit fighting you. Maybe he was afraid you’d outgrow him, he never gave you an exact explanation.

But it wasn’t enough. This was a way too long game. Yeah, you loved being an executive officer and taking care of supervising day-to-day operations only to come later into Byakuya’s office to report it and drain his time with your side-questions like:

“Your favourite flower is cherry blossom?” or “Can you teach me so we can match as the God and Goddess of Flash?” or your most annoying one: “If we sell ONLY your minty green scarf, we could buy a small house outside the city witj only nature around it, where it will be just us! Can you imagine? Retired baddies at 30.”

Of course, you could say you have at most a platonic relationship, but the only time this close to him will be finished soon, since Renji is coming back.

After the annual gathering of Captains and lieutenants.

┈─┈─┈─

You felt a pang of sadness, unaware at first that it was because you’d lost the chance to see him as often as you had these past few months. Ever since the recruiting mission with Byakuya, the line between captain and lieutenant had somehow blurred. Your suspicions were confirmed when you woke up on the last morning of your recovery in the medical tent and found Byakuya there. You didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, but his expression wasn’t unreadable anymore. He wore a look like someone who’d just been caught caring too much. Like a kid caught stealing candy, brushing it off like it was nothing.

After all, Byakuya never spoke of it in the days that followed—but there was a faint tension lingering. Or at least, you hoped there was.

Of course, you didn’t let those negative thoughts influence your choice of outfit today. It wasn’t a formal gathering, so you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard. You wore a plain black dress, just above the knees—short enough not to look too innocent, which didn’t exactly suit you. And the white-and-gold cloak was anything but subtle for someone like Byakuya, considering it was a version of the one he often wore. Even the low-budget white headpiece holding part of your hair in a bun at the back wasn’t subtle—it was meant to resemble a kenseikan, which Byakuya had once indirectly told you you weren’t noble enough to wear.

When you entered the room, full of symmetrically arranged tables, you offered polite smiles to the captains, including a small grin aimed at Byakuya. Even though his gaze was as impassive as ever—looking through you, not at you—it flickered down your body before his brow furrowed ever so slightly, clearly picking up on your intent. That annoying thought was already forming on your lips, probably the same one that crossed his mind.

Against your expectations, the gathering was boring.

Well, at least until a few glasses of old red wine with Matsumoto made the world feel a little more entertaining.

You found it amusing how Captain Kuchiki kept trying not to look at you while you and Matsumoto pulled Momo into dancing, as Nanao laughed while recording. Renji and Shunsui joined in later, dancing slowly and sloppily depending on how drunk they were. But you had clearly outperformed them all.

By the end of the night, the hallway walk to the bathroom felt endless, though the flush in your cheeks made it all more fun. Especially when you passed the men’s room—where Byakuya was washing his hands, a little too thoroughly.

He looked up at you in the mirror, your body leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, my next old Captain. Long time, no see.”

“Evening, Y/N. Seems like the night is unfolding just as you expected.”

His body turned slightly toward you, observing your unsteady posture.

“As I expected? Yes. As I wanted? Unfortunately not.”

“Hm.”

Byakuya wasn’t rattled by your usual childish teasing or the double meaning glinting in your lust-heavy gaze as you watched him shamelessly move toward the door.

Still, you didn’t move aside.

“Aren’t you going to ask what I mean?”

“Y/N, I believe it’s becoming inappropriate to have this kind of conversation, especially while blocking the way for others who may need to pass.”

His eyes told you to move faster, but you threw your head back, laughing and smiling wide.

“Well then, are you suggesting a more appropriate place, Captain Kuchiki? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Before he could respond, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, you added:

“Do you like my outfit? I thought it was kind of clever.”

You twirled your cloak slightly, tipping off balance—but his firm hand steadied you before pulling away just as quickly.

You didn’t know, but Byakuya had been fighting off some very undignified thoughts for weeks now. His face, however, betrayed none of them.

“Or did you not even notice me?”

You faked a sad pout, pushing a little more.

“I noticed.”

Seeing there was now enough space to exit without having to push past you, Byakuya moved past, but still—unable to stop himself—spoke over his shoulder:

“Be mindful of how much you drink. A shinigami’s mind must always be cared for, even during moments of rest.”

His steps were heavy as he returned to the main hall.

And you were pissed off. Almost ready to give up. But you once again disregarded caution, your voice raised behind him.

“Maybe you should be the one relaxing more, huh?! And allow yourself a few things before life passes us both by! Mr. Serious!”

Byakuya only clenched his hand under his white cloak, ignoring you.

┈─┈─┈─

The next morning, you woke up with a regrettable hangover. Today was the day you were to sign the papers finalizing your temporary lieutenant position.

But you were nothing if not sad. A far cry from your usual cheerful, confident self.

You knocked before entering his office, and found him already annoyingly presentable for such an early hour.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

He didn’t lift his head from the papers until a few seconds passed with no response from you—not even a snarky one.

You stood in the doorway until he finally looked up, your weak expression forcing him not to scold you.

“Come.”

You barely looked at him from under your brow while he prepared the documents for signing.

“Before I hand you the contract, is there any complaint regarding the leadership of the Gotei 31 you’d like to report?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to snap at him, but you chose silence instead.

“Y/N. It’s not appropriate to respond with silence to your Captain.”

You muttered under your breath, laced with bitterness:

“You’re not my Captain anymore.”

“Y/N.”

His serious tone only worsened your state of mind.

“Inappropriate this, inappropriate that. How about facing the truth for once?”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow.

“How about facing the truth that I’m not the only one feeling this?”

“You’ll need to be more specific, lieutenant.”

You lightly kicked the desk in frustration, rolling your eyes—an act that certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m pretty sure the Captain of a very important military squad can connect the dots about what I’m trying to say.”

Your glare was so fierce that Byakuya felt his heart falter slightly, his conscience warring with his strict principles.

“That we fucking like each other, Captain.”

His heart stopped. But his years of stoicism weren’t so easily broken. He handed you the paper.

“Any romantic relationship between a Captain and their lieutenant is strictly against the rules. Please sign the document.”

You signed it with such pressure that the pen almost tore through the paper.

“Well, now you’re officially no longer my Captain.”

He let out a heavy breath.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but your interpretation is mistaken. I am neither available nor inclined toward that area of life.”

“Yeah? Oh sure, very unpredictable of you,” you said sarcastically, rising from your chair. “Truly shocking that the serious, noble, most prized Captain of the Soul Society doesn’t have emotions! That such a concept doesn’t exist for him!”

Your voice had risen so much that even Byakuya lost his patience.

“Whether I’m still your Captain or not, I suggest you maintain a decent attitude, or I’ll be forced to sanction you.”

You turned your back to him, letting out a sarcastic snort.

“Oh yeah? What’ll you do, throw me in prison like your sister a few years ago?” you sneered over your shoulder.

But you froze when Byakuya suddenly stood, appearing right in front of you in a flash.

“My tolerance has limits. Your behavior is not only disrespectful. I will not allow you to speak of my personal life choices ever again.”

You tilted your head, too angry to care about the consequences. You needed him to lose control. So when you closed the distance and whispered near his lips, he froze.

“Or what, Captain Ku-chi-ki?”

And once again, Byakuya broke his own internal laws by not moving an inch away from you, even as your gaze lowered from his eyes to his lips—until they met yours.

He furrowed his brows, struggling against his own defeat as your taste began to intoxicate his mind.

The wrong choice had already been made.

When your lips parted to kiss him again, his hand rested lightly on your back, pulling you closer until his lips finally responded—drawing a soft, satisfied hum from you.

Your heart was beating so fast, not realizing it was in sync with his. Your brain couldn’t fully accept that this was really happening. Not after all this time.

He pulled back slightly, only a few centimeters away now—and the emotion in his eyes confirmed what you’d started to see these past months. You hadn’t imagined it.

“Tell me I wasn’t wrong, Captain Kuchiki.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence that made your body burn from the inside out, your eyes locked with his.

“You weren’t.”

┈─┈─┈─

Some time later, Byakuya finally found peace after the exaggerated attention following what had happened. It didn’t take long before everyone in leadership—and eventually even the squad members—found out. What shocked him, though, was that everyone seemed genuinely happy for him. A happiness he didn’t think he’d get to feel anytime soon.

Of course, your relationship didn’t start in the most idyllic way, considering how busy and responsible he was. But what shocked you was realizing he might be one of the most loving people you’d ever known.

You could swear not a week passed without receiving flowers—three times a week, minimum. You could swear he always tried to find time to visit, stealing kisses from beneath your black mask. You could swear there wasn’t a day he didn’t think about how to keep you fed, healthy, and appreciated—with gifts like necklaces, clothing, sweets (though rarer), rare teas, or sometimes just excessive concern.

And everything became even more serious when he spoke to you for the first time about wanting to have the ceremony as soon as possible.

Even though you were still the same person, teasing him and leaving suggestive touches that challenged his restraint, neither of you had crossed the line into full physical intimacy.

That is, until one evening, when he picked you up from work—like he always wished to do.

“It’s a convenient time for you to stay for a tea in my chambers, my dear?”

Your smile widened as you playfully tugged on his arm.

“Captain’s inviting me to his home? At such a late hour? How indecent and inappropriate!”

He smiled—and though you were getting used to it, you were still shocked at how long he’d kept such a beautiful smile hidden from you. A little annoyed, even.

“Indeed.”

┈─┈─┈─

Because of the high rank of its former inhabitants, this Byakuya clan residence is quite expansive. He wasn’t exaggerating, though—he had four rooms, guest rooms, a larger kitchen with multiple cabinets full of herbal medicine and tea, a very clean bathroom, and his own room.

His house is surrounded by a garden full of flowers, and your heart melts with affection as you imagine him standing there, watering the plants and taking care of them. There’s even a sizeable space in the garden where you assume he trains—there’s even an archery range.

While you were trying to take it all in, Byakuya walked over to the two white cushions (zabuton) placed in front of a heatable low table (kotatsu).

“What tea do you prefer, dear?”

You didn’t know it, but for the first time in his life, Byakuya felt like an awkward teenager.

“Hmm?” You tore your eyes away from the tokonoma, the recessed alcoves typically decorated with a hanging scroll along with a vase or flower arrangement. The decorations are usually changed to reflect the season, and right now, it’s cherry blossom season.

He’s so thoughtful.

“I’m sorry, my lovely Byakuya,” your wide smile completely disarmed him. “Surprise me.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and headed toward the kitchen while you gazed up at the ceiling—coffered and decorated with paintings. It was made of square spaces framed by wooden beams. The beams were adorned with thin metal, and the squares were painted, usually with floral motifs. You were genuinely hypnotized.

I want to live here.

Byakuya returned and sat on a cushion, waiting for you to do the same—and excited, you did.

“I can’t believe you live here. You know you’re lucky, right?”

Byakuya was used to this lifestyle—it didn’t impress him—but he was grounded enough in reality to appreciate what he had and almost never complained. A bit of an extremist.

“I’m glad you like it.”

His words were few, overwhelmed as he was by emotion, though still worried about losing control.

You furrowed your brows slightly. You’d come to know the most serious captain in the Soul Society well enough to understand all his subtle expressions.

“My love?”

Your smile widened as Byakuya turned to you with a faint blush on both cheeks. He cleared his throat and brought the chamomile tea to his lips—his mouth was dry, and he pretended to be fine. You just watched him with your usual teasing gaze.

“Is everything fine?”

“Y-yes. Yes, of course. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. But I can’t help but notice someone’s a little shy?”

Calm down, Byakuya told himself.

“That’s a word I feel rather detached from. I don’t associate with it.”

“Mhm?”

Byakuya swallowed hard when you leaned in closer. His disciplined mind reminded him it’s impolite to step on cushions that aren’t your own.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is my highness… demure? Fainthearted?”

His eyes locked on your inviting lips as you spoke, even though his face remained perfectly blank. He only managed to whisper:

“There’s no reason for me to be—”

You swallowed his evasive words with your lips pressing against his—soft and irresistible. You couldn’t take it anymore. You pushed the moment, deepening the kiss, searching for a response. When Byakuya kissed you back, you didn’t hesitate to accept it. A hint of pressure, then a soft, warm exhale ending in an almost imperceptible hum. The faintest flash of white behind his trembling lashes could be seen.

Your bodies pressed together, heatedly, against the wall behind the cushions as you moved onto his lap, leaving Byakuya speechless at your boldness. But your desire was so intoxicating he could taste it in your shared breath, feel it in the thud of your combined heartbeats.

You grinned into the kiss when you felt his arousal beneath you, placing your hands on his shoulders. Your lungs were clenching for air, but you didn’t care. Both of you had swollen lips when Byakuya finally stopped you. You were both panting, and his cheeks were so red you felt like devouring him out of sheer affection.

“M-My dear, I would prefer if we took things a little slower. I’d rather, if it’s alright with you… that we went to the bedroom.”

He knew there was no escape. But he didn’t want your first time together to be on some cushions—he could never treat you superficially.

“And what would we do there, love?”

Your amused eyes made your wide smile even more beautiful, as you moved slowly, teasingly on his lap, drawing a sound close to a groan from him. A stray black strand of his slightly disheveled hair fell across one eye, suddenly making him look imposing, which only made your eyes widen.

He gently gripped your chin, whispering against your now open lips.

“I know what you’re trying to do, but I think you need to remember the first lesson you learned as my lieutenant: Obedience. I’m more than willing to teach you again.”

If you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now.

He lifted you up, making you yelp in surprise, your hands locked behind his neck while you looked at the man who would one day be your husband, blushing furiously.

His washitsu room had tatami mats as flooring—woven straw mats. Around the bed were multiple fusuma sliding doors with wooden frames covered in thick, opaque paper. His, however, had accents of purple and black, giving the room an intimidating atmosphere.

Byakuya set you down on a byōbu, and you hadn’t expected it to be so comfortable. His hands were trembling, and you immediately pulled him closer.

“I’m here with you. I want to be here always. Do you?”

Byakuya felt like his heart was going to explode.

“Yes, my love.”

He smiled back at you—not as wide, of course, but it still warmed your whole body. You tugged at his white kimono, urging him to kiss you again. His timid hands lifted you up, and the feel of his body pressed against yours only made you more desperate to have him.

As Byakuya kissed you, you fumbled with his clothes.

“Fuck, I want you so much. For so long.”

Byakuya hummed, his mouth traveling down to your collarbone, leaving soft kisses.

“Language, lieutenant.”

His lips curved into a subtle smirk as he cupped your cheek, leaving slow, wet kisses behind your ear and along your neck. You moaned, and Byakuya swore he’d never heard a more beautiful sound. He needed more.

He helped you undress him, revealing a sculpted body—so toned and muscular you didn’t even know where to touch first. Your hands wandered down to his pants, playing and tugging at them with your fingers, but Byakuya stopped you by lifting you so you’d be on his level.

His gaze asked for your permission, though it’s not like you hadn’t already jumped on him. You nodded eagerly before you felt his warm fingers undo your kimono, leaving you in a bra that intentionally accentuated your breasts.

Byakuya hesitated for a moment before gently cupping you through the bra, but when you moaned again, it was all the confirmation he needed. His hands roamed your body, finally reaching your black lace panties—matching your bra—a striking contrast to Byakuya, who was dressed mostly in white.

“Beautiful.”

His hoarse voice was unimaginably hot. You shivered as he began to kiss between your breasts, subtly undoing your bra while continuing down your stomach, hands gripping your hips as support, pausing at the waistband of your panties before returning to your already hard nipples, licking them.

“Byakuya, oh my—”

He took your breast in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sensitive skin while massaging the other with his hand.

“Yes, my love?”

“You’re so good. So good to me—”

Your body leaned into him, your thighs shifting restlessly, desperate for any kind of release.

Your hand indecently reached for his straining erection through his pants, making Byakuya lose his focus from the pleasure.

But this moment was about you now.

He took both your hands and laid you down on the pillow, holding them in place as he began kissing you with a single goal.

Until he found himself face to face with your untouched pussy, now aching for attention.

You bucked your hips, and Byakuya’s cheeks deepened at your desperation—but he was just as hungry. After such a long time, this was deeply, intensely wanted.

When his lips cupped your clit through the fabric, you were already whining, needing more, even though you wanted it to last.

“Patience, my love.”

“I’m trying. But you’re so hot.”

His small laugh felt like it came from another world. If someone had told you months ago that you’d be in a situation like this, you would’ve laughed for sure. Fantasies aren’t real.

But… there’s no denying reality now, not when Byakuya was so focused on your most sensitive spot, massaging your inner thighs, down and around before finally pressing over your panties.

“Please. Please, Byakuya.”

“Shh.”

You barely heard his whisper—especially as your panties vanished in a second and his mouth met your pussy so fast your mind couldn’t comprehend it. Your body arched, but his hands held you still with his frim grip, yet gentle.

He looked at you with an intense, serious expression that conveyed his true feelings. Pure love.

His finger found your needy, empty hole, slowly entering.

“Yes, yes. Please!”

You didn’t need to say anything else. He wanted to give you everything. But your desperation was so sweet, it turned him on even more. He nearly could’ve come just from giving you pleasure.

When the second finger entered, stretching you wider to prepare you for him, he still wasn’t sure how he’d fit. You were wet enough, which was an honor—but still so tight.

His mouth surprised you. You gasped as his fingers pumped deeper and deeper, his tongue licking long strokes over your pussy like he was making out with your throbbing clit.

With every moan and arch of your back, you spurred Byakuya to give you more. More of what you wanted. More of what you craved.

He could feel how tight you were getting around his fingers, your orgasm approaching fast with the way your sounds increased. But soon you pulled him back up to your face.

“Please, baby, I need you. Fuck me, Byakuya. Please—”

He felt dizzy from your intoxicating scent and words. Your lust-filled eyes made him feel bewitched. Your words didn’t even shock him anymore. On the contrary, they aroused him more.

“Anything you want from me.”

You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on his lips (his favorite taste now). You helped him out of his pants, leaving only his underwear, and wrapped your hand around his cock—hypnotized by the size that both scared and thrilled you.

You stroked him up and down, fingers brushing the waistband of his underwear. Byakuya threw his head back, savoring the sensation no one else could give him, his vulnerability on full display as small, deep moans left his lips.

He removed his underwear, but you didn’t get a full view, as he came over you, Byakuya noticed your hesitation.

“If you want, we can stop.”

You shook your head quickly, breathing hard and seeking him with your body.

“It’s okay. In me. I want you inside me.”

He cupped your cheek, kissing you from lips to neck, to your breats. Everywhere he can.

“Anything you need, just tell me. I want you to feel comfortable.”

He stroked himself a few times before going to a small cabinet, searching for a condom.

“Do you want it?” you asked and he surprised by your question.

“You don’t?” he asked in return.

“No.”

It was irresponsible and he knew that. But after so long drowning in guilt, Byakuya didn’t care anymore.

He returned, on the mat, his gaze never straying from yours as you closed your eyes, your trembling body reacting when the head of his cock started teasing your entrance, collecting your arousal before sliding just slightly inside.

He moved his head back, looked into your eyes again, and kissed you gently as he slowly pushed into you.

The stretch was intense. You threw your head back, toes curled, legs twitching around him.

You were panting the words out, and Byakuya’s breath came shorter and shorter, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

“M-move, B-bya-kuya!”

Byakuya pulled back until just the tip remained inside you. After a pause, he thrust back in fully, repeating the motion at the same pace before going faster.

“Oh my—You feel so good. I love it, I love it!”

Your mouth opened on its own as he picked up the pace, both of you quickly nearing release. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles.

“Yes?”

“Mhm. You could fill me daily, Byakuya.”

Your words shattered parts of his mind, destroying his restraint.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, yes. Fuck! Y-You don’t want?”

Tears escaped your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure as you clenched impossibly tighter around him. Your vulnerable expression was so precious, he swore he’d preserve it as a sacred image in his heart. He was truly focused on a future with you, so he didn’t regret his next words.

“Yes. I want that.”

It didn’t take long before you came, screaming his name, loud moans following, so loud they could probably be heard in Hueco Mundo. His head fell back as his hips stuttered inside you. With a final groan, Byakuya came inside you.

Your thumbs spread his lips, both of you panting and lost in each other’s eyes. Byakuya pulled out slowly, still making you whimper. Your body was wrecked, hair splayed over the pillow, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. Your body tilted slightly to the side, legs trembling, one hand resting weakly on your stomach, the other limp on the bed.

No woman had ever looked more beautiful to him. Byakuya thought. He wasn’t sure how you’d react if you knew exactly what was in his head. He was scared.

While he went to fetch a towel soaked in warm water to clean you up, you stared at the ceiling, your thoughts mirroring his. Both of you still had things to discover together.

When he returned, he cleaned you gently, then laid beside you and wrapped you in a warm embrace.

You regained your senses after your breathing steadied. There was no need to talk about what happened. It wasn’t just an impulsive decision, it was one made from strong emotion, chemistry, shared values.

You didn’t want anyone else. And neither did he. But still, you needed to say it. Your head resting on his arm, you turned to him but Byakuya was still processing everything.

“Byakuya Kuchiki.”

Your intent was unclear, confusing him—worried he might’ve done something wrong.

“I love you. So much. Do you believe me?”

His heart jumped again. He still struggled to comprehend the reality that he had you.

His mouth didn’t move for several minutes, but his eyes never left yours.

“And I love you—with all my heart.”

You smiled so much today your cheeks ached. You climbed on top of him, smothering him in affection, making him close his eyes as you kissed every part of his face.

You can’t wait to garden together, for him to read his stoic philosophy books to you while you brighten his world with your own. To drink tea every morning side by side. To train together. To marry, and…

The future looks promising.

[kagiura-akira]

You know I GOTTA know about something called "Desperate Kisses"!

What kind of desperation?

Is there angst?

*grabs popcorn*

Are you familiar with @dirtbra1n 's "Kagi is made of love" heritage post?

Well. Kagi in ch 23b made it very clear to us that it does, in fact, hurt to hold back.

And I am close to exploding so I needed a one shot to write and I chose desperate kisses but I think the prompt doesn't quiteeee fit??? It's more like. An explosion. There's pain though not necessarily angst.

Anyway I opened this draft just yesterday and it's not a full length fic, but rather an essay.

I think I'll move it out of the "kghr kisses challenge" project into its own document titled, "Entropy"

Spoilers for Hirano to Kagiura chapter 30

At times, Kagi is plagued by a small list of impossibilities spinning around his head. It taunts him. Now, his senpai wouldn't agree that there are such things for him (“Nothing is impossible for you, Kagi-kun!”), but he knows it's true. For example, coming in first place in his class in the end of term exams, or getting Muroi to stop texting him in weird code.

But the winner of the top spot in the list of impossibilities he thinks about is keeping his self control in line.

What happens when you take galaxies worth of love and super compact it into a smaller form?

Why, Kagiura Akira is born, of course.

With the entropy of billions of star systems and nebulae, any reasonable person would find it hard to contain.

Kagi likes to think he's reasonable.

The issue is, unfortunately, the would-be recipient of his affections is also a reasonable person. He can't burden him with this love as big as the sun itself, let alone millions and billions of galaxies worth affection.

Kagi is made of love—a love so great is puts his physical pain tolerance to the test. It wrenches his heart, stabs him in the lungs, knocks him off his feet like a sucker punch from the gods themselves. Stranded alone in the vast sea of his love, the waves crash violently over his head. Sinking, suffocating, he reaches for the surface like a man who can’t swim.

Kagi is made of love, and it hurts.

In his daily life, it manifests itself as a physical energy, which is exhilarating when put to good use (thank you, basketball) but exhausting when it festers. Such an entropic force brews exponentially in the physical embodiment of love that is Kagiura Akira. It can't be contained in a mere 17 year old human boy’s brain, let alone his heart. When Hirano smiles at him, when he quietly works away at his own homework alongside him, when he touches him—it’s so overwhelming, his brain overclocks and his heart stutters for a second or (or 500) too long.

So now, as he’s standing here at their door, he can still feel the heat from the sports festival. The memory of ten seconds stolen in secret sends a flush up the back of his neck and his ears, quite possibly almost as vivid as Hirano’s scarlet hue which reaches from his head to his toes.

“After this, I want to give you my answer,” he mutters. His mouth is turned downward in an embarrassed frown that only he ever makes. (Bless the boy, only knowing how to express two emotions)

Wait, embarrassment? Why is he embarrassed? Kagi’s heart is the one doing backflips like a trained gymnast. So why is it that when he closes the door behind him and turns the lock, he looks like he’s about to be the most vulnerable he’s ever been in his entire life? A flood of imagery of recent moments rattle against Kagi’s skull like a pinball machine as he recognizes the signs. That is to say, the exact signs that plagued himself a mere three or four months ago.

Another surging tide sends a wave of emotion crashing over his head. It rattles him from the center-most part of his being all the way to his extremities. There are no words to adequately describe the enormous pressure building from within. It’s warm and light. Are his feet even touching the ground? Moreover, is he vibrating? The urge to reach out is overwhelming. After all, he hasn’t had his ten seconds today.

Not that it would be enough.

He’s certain that if he initiated his ten seconds now, he’d never be able to let go. His hand twitches, and he digs his fingernails into the skin of his palm for grounding. The way Hirano looks down and away showcases his neck, makes Kagi grit his teeth. The monster within has been tied down with a mere shoelace - the right words could very well strip him of his sanity, replacing Kagiura Akira with what Kagi will only refer to as the devil.

There’s no way he can let that happen.

His bottom lip quivers, and he tightens the grip so hard that his fingernails break his skin. The seams holding together his three ethereal souls together are made of paper, and this monster, his desire, demolishes it into confetti with a single glance from those beautiful, ocean blue eyes.

“Look, I—”

From the moment the words, “my answer�� left Hirano’s lips, Kagi knew he was fighting a losing battle. The ache in his chest that started as a dull thud months ago has grown into a piercing, concentrated stabbing sensation, and he’s ignored it for far too long.

He takes a step forward.

For too long, he’s been ignoring the aching pain clawing away at his insides. It hurts, and if he has to go a moment longer living on like this, he doesn’t know that he can withstand the storm of emotions bubbling up at the back of his throat.

He catches Hirano’s hand and spins him to face him, cups his face, and dives in head-first into the wave. It’s sink or swim, and so he clings to Hirano’s lips like a life vest. It all happens so quickly that he doesn’t think about the force with which his head dives in for the kiss. Was he too rough? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that Hirano’s thin lips taste like a cherry sports drink, and he smells like sweat and the fresh outdoors.

Kagi doesn’t know how long the kiss is. All he knows is that the ache hasn’t gone and won’t go away, but the intensity of the pain is nothing next to the thought of being without him.

[rea-grimm]

Cross Guild x Dullahan Reader

The next day was exactly a year since you joined a group called Cross Guild, which everyone said was led by a kitsune named Buggy, but you found out who was really in charge right away at the intake interview. The fallen god Crocodile and the sword demon Mihawk.

Of course, this was no ordinary interview. You were a feared warrior who was around them and whose skills would come in handy. It was a one-time job, or so it seemed.

Only when it was done, all three of them officially accepted you into the guild. You weren't a regular soldier like Buggy's pirates or Crocodile's Baroque Works. No, without even knowing what they were, you were accepted into the top ranks when you were almost at Buggy's level. Maybe a little below, but according to Crocodile, you didn't have to listen to Buggy as a superior.

And the fact that you'd risen above a clown kitsune was what pissed him off. And how best to torment you without incurring the wrath of a demon and a fallen god? Almost every day, he found some way to steal your head.

That's right. You were a Dullahan, and you had the unique ability to separate your head from your body. Kind of like Buggy, though not quite. However, when you were asleep or relaxed, you were in danger of dropping your head. And it was these moments that the kitsune used for his plans.

However, it was your unique ability that allowed you to sense the position of your head, so it was no problem to find it. Though as a headless body, you were awkward, as you had minimal awareness of your surroundings, as if everything was in a thick fog or obscured by smoke. But you always got your head back, and when you were particularly not in the mood for the clown's antics, you would get your revenge.

But when you didn't take revenge, someone else did. You knew who, but you had no idea why they were doing it. It was as if Crocodile and Mihawk themselves were holding a protective hand over you. Even though you made it clear you didn't need it.

You spent quite a bit of time with all three of them. Crocodile wanted you to help him with documents and plans. You became a sort of advisor to him, and you felt like an apprentice.

Mihawk started training you with the sword as well. He saw that you were quite capable, but he also saw a lot of mistakes that he made it his mission to correct. You trained together every morning, and you ended your training with a practice duel.

Well, Buggy... he wanted to train with you because of your ability with your head, but otherwise he mostly just wanted an audience for his new acts, where you agreed now and then. You didn't want to hear that he wasn't good enough or anything.

That same evening, as you were walking back to your room, you passed Crocodile's office. To your surprise, the door was open, and Mihawk and Buggy were inside.

"Y/N will be here tomorrow for exactly a year," Crocodile uttered. You didn't want to listen, but his strong voice was hard to miss. Or was it on purpose? Who knows.

You wanted to move on and not listen to something that didn't belong to you. You heard their muffled voices. It sounded like they were arranging a plan of action. What kind? You didn't know, since there was nothing on the agenda right now. 

Finally, you decided to ignore it and return to your room. There, you changed and lay down on your bed, next to which you had a nightstand with a comfortable pillow. You knew that your head would fall off anyway while you slept, so you automatically took it off and put it on the prepared pillow. 

It was the easiest solution. Plus, if you knew the exact spot you were leaving it in, everything was fine. Besides, with your head this close to your body, you could simply control your body like a remote control toy and not bump into anything. 

The next morning, you woke up at the same time as always. You jumped out of bed, ready for your morning training session with Mihawk. You reached for your head, but it wasn't on your pillow. 

You panicked a little before your body slumped to the ground, and you started to shuffle your hands around. This has never happened to you before. The worst part was that you had no connection to your head. No trail to follow. No fog to walk through. There was nothingness all around. It was like you were blind. 

As soon as you'd turned your whole bedroom upside down and kicked your pinky finger against the corner of the wardrobe and almost fallen over the chest by the bed, you realised it wasn't going to be easy. 

You sat on the bed and thought. You didn't have to strain your head, which you didn't have, to figure it out. Behind it all was that blue kitsune, Buggy. 

That's what pissed you off. How did he get you to lose touch with your head? You were so angry that the soul flame that normally blazed from your neck flared up to the ceiling, where it left a scorch mark. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before you decided to go looking for your head next. You had to find the furry thing that did this to you. You hoped he wasn't juggling it like last time. Or that he wouldn't paint it like a clown. You laughed then, but now you felt like taking his soul and dragging it down to the deepest depths of hell. 

You walked groggily out of your bedroom, hoping you remembered the layout of the base. You guided yourself along the wall with one hand, wondering where you could find the clown. 

You had no idea how far you'd walked or what part you were currently in, as everything blended together. 

You ran out of wall at your fingertips and you weren't sure where you were. You were walking along when something got caught under your feet, you tripped and you could already see or rather imagine yourself on the ground when someone caught you. 

"Are you all right?" The demon's voice asked, which you instantly assigned to Mihawk. As you suspected, you were in a small gym. You gestured to him that you were fine. 

"If you're looking for Buggy, I'd look for him in the kitchen. There was a noise coming from there when I went to train," he said without waiting for your question. He wasn't blind, after all, and besides, it was all part of the plan. 

You gestured your thanks to him and made your way towards the kitchen. Or at least you hoped it was the kitchen. Mihawk, however, grabbed your elbow before hooking your arm with his. 

"You're going in the wrong direction. I'd better walk you," he said, and without your head, you couldn't help but notice the fleeting smile that played on his lips. 

Mihawk walked you to the kitchen, where you could hear the noise coming from. Or rather, Buggy and Crocodile, who were orchestrating the what and how of it, while the clown seemed to be causing chaos. 

Just as you walked through the kitchen door, confetti exploded against your body.

"Surprise!" Buggy exclaimed cheerfully. It was a shock, no doubt, but more than any surprise, you finally felt your head with which you could make a connection. You opened your eyes and could finally see the world around you. 

The kitchen was festively decorated, filled with balloons, garlands and all sorts of decorations. The clown was wearing several small party hats instead of his classic hat, while Crocodile had one in his hand, which he had obviously taken off. Next to your head was a giant decorated cake. 

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your body had come for your head, which you could finally attach to your neck. To your surprise, you felt your hair was braided, and you were wearing the same party hat as the others. Even Mihawk had one on his head. Now you had no idea if this was really a dream. This seemed too absurd. 

"Surprise! We're celebrating your first year in the Cross Guild!" Buggy celebrated, shoving a plate with a piece of cake into your hands. To your surprise, it was your favourite. 

Not only did they throw you a party along with the cake, but they each gave you a present. Mihawk gave you a dagger with a black Damascus blade and ornamented handles. 

"A small gift for emergencies. If you can't use the sword much, then it will come in handy here. When you want, we can train together to get you better with the dagger," he explained, and you could see the warmth in his eyes. "And if you do well, you'll have the power to raise my sword," he smiled mysteriously at you. 

After the demon, it was the fallen god's turn. Crocodile presented you with a small box. Until the last moment, you had no idea what it might be. When you opened the lid, you found a golden ring inside, engraved with text you couldn't understand. 

"This is a protection spell. Very rare and very powerful," he explained in a few words. You immediately put the ring on and were speechless. 

Finally, Buggy stood before you, promising to stop stealing your head. Except in rare circumstances. 

You were so moved by it all that you couldn't contain yourself and caught them in a mass embrace. You didn't realise how grateful you were for them.

Buggy Masterlist

Crocodile Masterlist

Mihawk Masterlist

One Piece Masterlist

[belit0]

I like Indra and Ashura, but I'm more partial to the former. 😘😘

Madara and Izuna fall madly in love with a member of the Uzumaki clan who was sent as a diplomat. Tobirama knows this, but doesn't care. She is very smart and they spend a lot of time together training, making documents, etc. She is very popular in the village, as she is very beautiful, strong of lethal firm character that does not hesitate at anything ma having the look in the eyes of the uchiha even if they have the Sharingan activated.

Let's see

The tension is unbearable. It crackles in the air like an approaching storm, thick and heavy, felt in every glance, every unspoken word.

The first time Madara noticed it, he ignored it. He had better things to focus on than trivial distractions. But then he saw her again, that same day, standing in the center of the Senju compound, discussing battle strategies with Hashirama and Tobirama as if she had been born to wield authority. She wasn’t just confident, no.

She was untouchable.

And worst of all, she did not flinch before them.

(Y/N) met the eyes of the Uchiha without hesitation, even when intimidation dripped from their words like poison. Her presence commanded respect without demanding it, and before he knew it, Madara was drawn to her like a moth to flame.

Izuna, of course, wasn’t any better.

If anything, he fell harder.

—

-You're spending too much time with that Senju.

Madara's voice was sharp as he spoke, his arms crossed over his chest, the embers of his Sharingan barely restrained. He wasn’t one for dramatics; his anger was a slow, simmering thing, controlled, measured.

But today? Today, it burned.

(Y/N) lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed.

–I was handling diplomatic affairs. Or do you prefer we go back to bloodshed?

Beside her, Tobirama continued reviewing scrolls, unbothered. The audacity of that man. The Second Senju son barely acknowledged Madara’s presence, and that made it so much worse.

Izuna, standing beside his brother, exhaled sharply.

–Handling diplomatic affairs?- he repeated, tone edged with mockery. -Funny. Last I checked, diplomacy didn’t require training together or laughing over documents.-

Tobirama’s red eyes flicked toward them, cool and detached. Bored. That was how he looked. As if two of the most dangerous men in the Fire Country weren’t moments away from unsheathing their blades.

(Y/N) turned fully toward the Uchiha brothers, crossing her arms.

–If you have something to say, say it.

Oh, Madara would. The words were already on the tip of his tongue, a sharp accusation, a demand to know why she was wasting her time with a Senju when the Uchiha were the ones who—

But then Tobirama—that bastard—tilted his head and smirked, just slightly.

–Jealousy does not suit you, Uchiha.

Madara saw red.

Izuna had to physically step forward before his brother actually started a war.

–You— Madara hissed, stepping closer, —have no place speaking as if—"

(Y/N) cut him off.

–Enough.

The authority in her voice struck harder than any blade. Even Izuna, who had been seconds from backing his brother up in whatever violent response he had in mind, hesitated.

She exhaled, her patience thinning.

–If I choose to spend my time with Tobirama, that is my choice. It is not a matter of Senju or Uchiha—it is a matter of who respects me.

Madara’s jaw locked.

Izuna’s eyes darkened.

Tobirama merely smirked.

–Well said,- he murmured, standing from his seat, rolling the scrolls neatly before handing them to her. -Our meeting is over. I will see you at tomorrow’s training.-

(Y/N) nodded, taking them without hesitation, but Madara and Izuna? They stood like statues, burning with unspoken fury, watching as she turned and left, without another glance in their direction.

The only sound that remained was Izuna’s exhale of frustration. -I swear to the gods, if that man smirks one more time—

Madara said nothing. But the next time Tobirama did smirk, he was already prepared to slit his throat.

[kabr0ztrousers]

There's this tired worn out guy and he can't help but fantasize about how nice it would be to be a hucow that spends his days getting his chest and dick milked, but everywhere only seems to hire women since it's much easier to induce lactation. He's sitting at this boring desk at work when a mysterious email shows up inviting him to trial run the newest technology in the hucow field!! When he arrives it's better than he can even fathom. Little does he know that this trial run is aired on TV for the entire world to see. People can send in money and control just how fast, slow, hard, or soft the machines milk or fuck him.

Kabr0z Writes episode 63: Reality TV

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: intox; dubcon; implements; restraints; humiliation; coercion; overstim;

A/N: This wasn't requested to be another Chitinid story, but there's only 2 continuities I have ongoing where hucows feature, and this is the one where it isn't an underground practice. I'm not against spinning out another continuity, but couching it where things are already set up helps streamline the process

########################################

A month ago, the old library had been flattened. That was the last interesting thing that had happened in this city, and since then Mike's life has been an unending sequence of cubicle walls and tedious emails. He sighed. Half the world spirited away to be milked stupid, spending the entire remainder of their lives in chemically induced ecstasy to harvest their sexual fluids, and he managed to wind up behind a desk.

Not that Mike hadn't tried, he wrote to his city supervisor, even tried going above his head to regional governor, but was met with the same response every time: his best place was where he was, sat behind a desk so Chitinid anthropologists could study him as the drab monotony of the passing days slowly drove him mad. No wonder they got resistance cells, even if they didn't admit they existed. Of course, everyone knew there was a resistance, libraries don't get demolished via high-caliber autocannons because of termites.

A notification pinged in the corner of the screen Mike had been ignoring for the last hour. A half page of corporate lorem ipsum left behind by his train of thought. He opened the email and scanned it, finger poised over the delete key.

"You have been Selected" came the subject line

Weird, spam didn't exist any more. Nobody had anything to steal, companies didn't have any information to pillage, there wasn't even anything worth destroying. He read on

"Congratulations!

You have been selected to take part in a viability study involving human livestock material harvesting. You have been selected because either you have registered interest with your city supervisor, or your usefulness has been re-evaluated"

Well, he'd definitely made his interest well known. The rest of the email detailed where to go, what to bring, when to be there. One final sentence capped off the message, reminding the recipients that this is in fact not optional. Mike would either go willingly, or he would be taken. That's one way to deal with people not reading their email.

There wasn't much required to bring. Civilian travel documents, ID card, and the clothes on his back. Only he turned up, either everyone else was trying to hide or nobody else was selected from his area, either way, he probably wouldn't find out. Transparency was never at the top of their lists of priorities.

A gunship swung down low, the silent engine didn't even disturb the treetops as the vessel passed within inches of them. A voice came over the loudspeaker, a Chitinid speaking English

"Citizen Lewis, Michael. Identity recognised. Stand by for transfer"

Stand by for transfer. Sounds like he wasn't about to be atomised by weapons fire at least. Always a plus

A confinement field engulfed him. The tingling blue light surrounding you before the world disappeared, replaced with a holding cell. Exactly as expected.

There's no way to measure time in a Chitinid holding cell. The walls are blank, the lighting flat. This one didn't even seem to have a door.

Mike tried to sleep, without success. Chitinids never seemed to realise that blue light stops humans going to sleep, either that or they just didn't care. So he sat on the floor. The ship could be anywhere, going at any speed, there's no way to know. Mike had an idea of where it was probably headed, the human farms were kept in great facilities on the moon. They were visible even without a telescope, even if the ship traffic to and from wasn't.

The lights in the room brightened, the air becoming charged. The whole room was filled with a confinement field. The world flipped, beaming the hapless man down, completely nude, onto a metal table.

He couldn't move, he must have been sent from one confinement field to another. This didn't match what he'd been told about these facilities. Normally the people in these facilities would be held in huge spaces, hundreds of them plugged into machines with little to no conception of privacy. The room Mike found himself in was small, with only the table he was held to and only one device on the ceiling for company. A screen flickered to life, covering an entire wall of the room. Mike could see himself in it, the blue light of the containment casting him in a sickly pallor as the machine on the ceiling whirred to life.

A cup suctioned itself to his crotch as tubes carrying drugs attached themselves to his arms. A voice filled the room "Welcome, citizen, to the game of your life! You're live on channel nine!"

What?

A sound effect played. A number appeared on the screen and drugs pushed into Mike's bloodstream. He gasped as his skin flushed, turning red and immediately glistening with perspiration. Another noise, more drugs. His cock was achingly hard now, starting to throb into the tube surrounding it. The field parted his legs, bringing his knees upwards as a probe pushed against his asshole. Another noise and it pressed in, the cold metal making him wince before a tingling electric current ran through his prostate to the tip of his cock. The noises were speeding up, each one driving more drugs into him. Mike's chest became heavy, tits starting to bud, already leaking creamy milk as his cock dribbled precum.

A different noise, louder, more discordant, accompanied by the quick chattering of a Chitinid. The gentle electric pulsing from the probe in Mike's ass intensified for a moment. His hips bucked as his balls clenched, a rope of cum jetting from the tip of his cock. Then another, and another. The cocktail of alien aphrodisiac flowing into his body kept his cock hard and cooperative, but did nothing to stop his balls aching or the shaft burning as another noise jolted him again. His tits were leaking more now, probes fixing themselves to his nipples to collect the fluids, pumping and sucking the liquid out as the new tits kept growing at an alarming rate.

He groaned, partially from the exertions of the repeated orgasms, partly from the growing pains on his chest. The vocalisation caused a flurry of noises, the drugs hammering into his body causing him to twitch and convulse as a stream of thick cum pumped from his cock, getting thin and watery as his balls emptied out.

Mike's groans grew weaker, turning to wheezing sobs as the stimulation took its toll. His cock was still throbbing, trying to pump out ever more but nothing came, only the clenching of his drained nutsack sending painful lances through him.

The screen went dark. The stimulation stopped.

"Good show! Same time tomorrow!"

####################################

Well, I'll admit I'd lost faith in this one at about the halfway mark but feel like I pulled it back at the end

As always, any requests, ideas, scenarios, lore questions, etc, send an ask. I try to answer non-request asks quickly but if you bundle a question or something with a req, it'll get answered when you get your story

[evilwickedme]

I said I'd never do jumblr content again and yet here I am because this keeps coming up and it's like the only thing I can think about. That said I will not hesitate to turn off reblogs if y'all are horrible in the notes again, and be warned that I will be blocking anybody who supports any of the theories I mention immediately

There is no such thing as a conspiracy theory that isn't antisemitic. There is no such animal

Antisemitic conspiracy theories go back thousands of years. The ones that still have the most hold on culture to this day are the blood libel, and the protocols of the elders of zion

The blood libel was an accusation that would be brought against Jewish populations in Europe often but especially around Passover claiming that we were killing Christian children for ritual purposes, usually to use their blood for baking matza or other nonsense (it is important to me that you know that this is nonsense. It is horrible and damaging but also to the core a ridiculous lie that never at any point made any sense. They just didn't care). Debatably this trope is present in the merchant of Venice. Undebatably Jews were killed because people did and still do sincerely believe this

The protocols of the elders of zion is a fictitious document published in Russia at the very beginning of the 20th century, supposedly detailing the meetings of the Jewish people who secretly run the world. The protocols were almost immediately proven to be a rip off of another document - ah, plagiarism - but that hasn't stopped antisemites from embracing it wholeheartedly (special thanks fuck you to Henry Ford for publishing them in his newspaper, spreading it across the USA). It built on previous antisemitic tropes, from the greedy banker trope (Jews were forced to be money lenders in medieval Europe as it was forbidden in Christianity and Jews weren't allowed to join any guilds, preventing them from making money in any other capacity - the reason why there are so many Jews in Hollywood is identical, but in the early 20th century) to the concept of dual loyalty (i.e. Jewish are loyal to ourselves above all else and cannot be trusted to be loyal to the country where we live, see: modern trope that every Jew is probably loyal to Israel and the subsequent idea that it's okay to ask every single diaspora Jew how they feel about Israel immediately upon meeting them). It's also worth noting that the word cabal, used to denote the shadowy organizations that supposedly control the world, comes from kabbala, which is Jewish mysticism

The idea of lizard people, created by a guy literally named Icke because he is a gross human being, was designed to repackage the antisemitic shadow cabal concept to be supposedly more palatable

Most qanon theories also build on all of this, such as world leaders preying on children (remember pizzagate?)

But more importantly conspiratorial thinking always positions you as the good guy standing against a mysterious "them", an other which is influencing things behind the scenes. The Jew is the ultimate other, and specifically an other that supposedly forms a shadowy world government, controlling everything and yet somehow not managing to get rid of antisemitism (see: protocols of Zion, lizard people, we control Hollywood and the government which is of course conspiring against you). There is no way to decouple the idea of an evil shadowy organization (usually also referred to as a cabal to really hammer it in) from antisemitism and antisemitic tropes

And this means that even supposedly "harmless" conspiracy theories attract antisemites and train people who aren't necessarily rabid antisemites to confirm those kinds of biases. Obviously Qanon and lizard people are antisemitic, but what does the moon landing have to do with Jews? Well, it was Hollywood and the government that faked it, obviously. Hell, even the conspiracy that Taylor Swift is secretly a lesbian and is either still secretly dating or is exes with Karlie Kloss is riddled with antisemitism -

Okay so I need to explain my position on this because I fucking hate this conspiracy theory, and the fact that most people simply won't acknowledge that that's what it is. Firstly, Taylor Swift has stated that she is not gay or considers herself an ally at least three times off the top of my head, and specifically denied that she was dating Karlie Kloss. Secondly, outing people is wrong. Thirdly, the conspiracy theory hinges on the idea that she would be risking her career by coming out, except that she's proven that basically no controversy can come in the way of her career, she's already "come out" as an ally, donated to glaad and the equality act, promoted queer musicians & artists & designers (there was a song in the reputation tour that was dedicated to a gay designer every single night of the tour). So what's stopping her from coming out at this point? Mysterious forces, clearly. The antisemitism in that I've already explained, but also the virulent antisemitism among Kaylor shippers aimed at her husband and at the fact that she converted to Judaism is fucking disgusting

Again: even a supposedly harmless conspiracy theory leads to antisemitism and attracts antisemites

A few years ago I tried to rewatch white collar cause I remembered really enjoying that show as a preteen and after around a season I just couldn't stand it anymore, because all I wanted to do was jump into the universe and yell at Mozzie to shut the fuck up because these conspiracy theories were barely presented as a joke and never challenged even once by any of the characters. When I rewatched that 70s show it also fucking sucked, but at least it wasn't showing up in every single episode. The blacklist focuses entirely on a literal Cabal, that's what they're called

This stuff is so normalized and it's fucking everywhere and it's exhausting. Jews are to this day being murdered over this. I can't change the world by myself, unfortunately, but if you don't have a specific person to blame for your troubles, shut the fuck up. Just shut up. There is no conspiracy against you. Sometimes life just sucks. Or definitely does for the Jews who get shot at over this shit

Again, I'll be blocking anybody who parrots this bullshit in the comments but especially fucking gaylors y'all are one of the main reasons that being a fan of Taylor Swift's music is fucking unbearable. Just accept you can connect to music made by somebody different than yourself it's not that difficult of a concept

[nicksversion]

⚠️!PSA FOR EVERYONE!⚠️

How to survive the next four years:

1. Stay alive:

As much as you will be feeling, validly so, keep going. It’s okay to grieve and feel what you need to but they want you to give up/be stagnant. Live out of spite if you have to but don’t let them win.

Inclusivetherapists.com/crisis gives you resources to call if you are struggling and you don’t have to be in crisis to reach out. Police are not involved with the hotlines and won’t be notified.

2. Play dumb:

You now know nothing about anyone.

For example:

Your friend who’s trans or a part of the LGBTQIA+ community, you have no idea. Same goes for your neurodivergent friends.

Your immigrant friend, they were born here

3. Stay strapped:

Get firearm training, purchase a firearm, and take self defense classes. It’s better to be prepared to fight than be blindsided by it. Additionally, don’t let your guard down in public ever and stay inside as much as humanly possible.

4. Hold your tongue:

Be careful what you say/ post. You never know who’s listening with malicious intent. Don’t talk about anything that doesn’t align with the MAGA point of view and if you are asked about it you tell them you don’t talk about politics.

5. Remember the dress code:

You want to dress as conformative and conservative as possible. I know it will suck but if you are dressed any other way you make yourself a target. Look up how to do your makeup to pass as fem/mas if you need to.

Additional information and tips:

Everything will not fall apart overnight, these things take time but you should still be prepared for it.

Propaganda will be everywhere, make sure you are getting your information from reliable sources.

They will be doing everything possible to change your beliefs to align with them, DO NOT FALL FOR IT!

Do your own research about how Hitler came to power and went through with the genocide. If you know the signs, you can help deinfluence the lies that will be spread (safely of course)

If you are planning to participate in the 4b movement be prepared for violent reactions. Men will not react well to not getting their way so make sure you can protect yourself if things go south.

Plan b has a shelf life of four years when stored in a cool dry place. It is purchasable on Amazon for less than $10 when you search levonorgestrel pill (it’s the name of what’s in plan b)

If you’re looking for doctors to give you long term birth control look up Reddit child free doctors list (it’s a list of international doctors who will let you have it and is updated by patients)

Delete your period tracking apps and use a physical calendar to track them. The government has access to them.

Freethepill.org gives you a bunch of resources to get the pill, if you are able stock up as you see fit.

If you have children in school, buy books that teach about evolution, black history, and all other things America has done to other countries.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTF3444aD/ - recommendations of places to go to get out of the US

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTF3VPUQc/ - how to get a passport

Project 2025 seeks to ban porn so start saving your favorite books/fanfics on external hardrives.

Read the entire Project 2025 document, starting at the last policy, so you know what they’re going to do.

I will update this post as I research more ways to get through this. It is important that you take time for yourself and make sure you’re okay before trying to help others. Stay safe, stay alert, and stay informed. I wish you all the best.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Talking Heads Roll on Floors

So I really really wanted to do this hybrid au inspired by @bluegiragi, but if they want me to delete this I'll do so. I don't want to steal their idea, and if I'm stepping on toes I'll take it down. However, I did like the idea of shifters and created my own hybrids (just because I love monsters and mythology) and wanted to make a story following König.

So this story is just an intro of reader talking to a general as they're assigned König's case file. König is a half nachtkrappe/half jotunn hybrid, with a tendency to spread sickness and decay.

Either way, very short intro.

TWs: Discussion of death and disease

Wordcount: 1.1k

Art from This Post

Story below the cut

Talking Heads Roll on Floors

You looked down at the documents in your hand. The file was decently thick, strangely so for a hybrid. You’d been assigned to a couple of hybrids before, but you’d never had a case quite like this before. A lt. general had purposefully called on you, specifically, for your background in avian hybrids, and though you had tried to explain that your experience with avians was limited to one grumpy grounded roc hybrid, the general was determined to see you on König’s file.

“He’s a lot to handle,” the general warned you sternly, “be careful with him.”

“Has he actually… He’s not hurt any handlers before, has he?” you asked nervously.

“We’re legally required to disclose these deaths in relation to Cnl. Leichenberg,” the gray haired man brushed his mustache, thick with dark streaks stained through it.

You looked down at the daunting manilla folder being pressed across the table.

“You’ll find that deaths in relation to Cnl. Leichenberg are largely due to handlers not following proper procedure,” the general tried to lighten the weight but failed miserably.

“Sir, it’s not my place to correct you,” you fumbled awkwardly, “however, aren’t most handler deaths written out as handlers not following proper procedure?”

The general was kind enough to give you a small smile, “You’re right to be suspicious, however Cnl. Liechenberg is a separate case entirely. In his shifted form, he acts as a form of bioterrorism against enemies. You may have heard of Lt. Riley, from SpecGru?”

“The one who kills somebody everytime he shifts?” you asked nervously.

“By random chance, yes,” the general nodded, closing his soft blue eyes momentarily before opening them again slowly, “Cnl. Leichenberg has a similar condition, except it seems that those in close proximity are at higher risk of contracting a fatal illness.”

“And you expect me to accompany him into battle,” you grumbled.

“Cnl. Leichenberg cannot control his illness, which is where you come in. You are to ensure he does not contaminate other shifters,” the general explained, “of course you’ll be given full vaccination and hazard gear on the military’s dime, and need I mention the benefits this position offers?”

“I can only imagine,” you whistled.

“Cnl. Leichenberg is not a dangerous shifter by any means,” the general paused, “at least, not to his handler. When proper procedure is followed, he is perfectly safe to be in close proximity to. However, the last string of handlers have been… Lackluster in performance.”

You glanced over the latest handler’s bio, “It says here that the latest was crippled?”

“He contracted a case of small pox,” the general explained, “the man was apparently a known anti-vaxxer and yet was put on Cnl. Liechenberg’s case. Of course, he didn’t manage to make it through the mission. You, I’m assuming, are up to date with your vaccinations?”

You nodded.

“You’ll need a few more before meeting Cnl. Leichenberg when he’s shifted, but I imagine you’d do well to meet him before you take his case,” the general’s warm eyes crinkled, “he’s not a difficult case to manage, I assure you. I’ve met the man, and he’s a nervous creature, but he’s nothing to be afraid of. I imagine you’ve dealt with more unruly hybrids during basic training.”

You laughed, “Well, if you’re so sure, I might as well meet him. Does he have a call sign or anything that I can call him by?”

“He goes by the name ‘König’.”

König… It seemed familiar.

“Wait, that guy’s not a colonel,” you glared at the general.

“He was when he was in the military,” the general explained, “and here in KorTac, we tend to respect the previous rank a soldier had before joining us, as long as they’re up to standard of course. König, thankfully, exceeds expectations.”

“It says here he’s an insertion specialist?” you asked, “but he’s a nachtkrappe shifter. Those are pretty small, aren’t they?”

“Keen on your biology, aren’t you?” the general chuckled, “but you’re right, they’re usually rather small and sickly, a result of their contagious nature. That nachtkrappe part of König is why protocol is so important when managing him. However, the other problem with König comes from the other side of his family,” the general trailed his finger down a page, “which you’ll find is-”

“He’s a jotunn shifter?” you spluttered before snapping your jaw shut. You looked up at the general fearfully, but thankfully the older man was in good spirits.

“That’s the insertion specialist part,” the general laughed, “he’s the biggest shifter on base, bigger even than the roc you were managing. He’s the biggest I’ve seen in ages.”

“So why are you asking for avian training when handling him? It’s not like he can fly, right?” you joked. You face fell with the general’s.

“König can fly alright, that’s part of what makes him an effective insertion specialist. He’s too big for most weapons to do significant damage, and he’s able to get into high points with a few flaps of his wings. He’s big, strong, and fast,” the general smiled grimly, “a perfect killing machine. Of course the unfortunate part is that he spreads disease wherever he goes. He’s the only shifter that can be used on a team at a time, and the rest of the squad needs to be outfitted accordingly. It’s part of your job as handler to ensure other soldiers follow protocol when they follow behind him into a building.”

You groaned, “You know they’re not going to listen to me.”

“You make them listen,” the general’s face hardened momentarily, “if you don’t think you’re up to it, I can find someone else easily. But here I was, thinking I was doing you a favor and helping you get ahead!”

“I understand sir,” you ducked your head submissively, “I’ll ensure the soldiers are equipped properly.”

“You’d better,” the general snorted, “the anti-vaxxer nearly got a whole squad of special ops killed on the first mission. Half of them had to be put on permanent leave,” the general leaned close and hissed, “you will not make the same mistake.”

You nodded quickly.

“Good,” the general relaxed, “so you know the drill, meetings will be once the paperwork’s been signed up. We’ll send you your forms with you once you leave, and König will get his side. Have them filled and submitted by Wednesday and we’ll arrange a meeting between you on Friday.”

“Yes sir!” you gave a quick salute.

You were quickly dismissed, and as you left the secretary by the door handed you a tome of paperwork that already had your head aching. Looking down at the stack, you had the dreadful feeling that the night would be a long one.

[apollonia4]

Fatigue?

Pt.2

When MC collapses from overusing their powers.

Satan:

• It wouldn't be your first time sneaking around the library at night. You and Satan liked looking through the forbidden books section, not only for the scarce knowlege that resided inside these pages but also for the sheer thrill of doing something risky (and also against Lucifer).

• Satan was reading by the window, something about ancient human world curses. You walked along the section, sliding your fingers across the book spines. Suddenly a certain book caught your attention. It looked old, very old. You caught a strange vibe from it and decided to not touch it. But when you wanted to walk past it, a formidable, crushing power forced you back to it. Before you noticed the book was already open in your hands.

• Satan of course noticed the change and imidiately rushed over to your side.

"MC! Close the book, quickly!"

"I-I can't!" You really couldn't. It was like it's stuck, turned to stone. It suddenly got hot as a raging fire and you dropped it, grunting in pain.

• You both looked as something comes out of it. Something powerfull and mighty. It was dark, so dark that it devoured the remaining light in the hall.

You snapped out of your trance, quickly trying to force the creature back into the seal it came out of. It was not an easy job as you and Satan soon found out but nonetheless you put in every effort to prevent the obscure mass to do any damage to the library (you didn't want Lucifer THAT pissed after all).

• Finally, you did it. You did the majority of the job, as a renowned sorcerer you had more skill in managing spirits. But this was something almost out of your league and it has left you so drained of energy that you collapsed right there and then.

Before you blacked out complitely you felt as Satan catches you in his arms, hugging you to his side tightly.

"Stay with me MC, you're alright. You'll be okay." He put his forehead against yours as you closed your eyes.

• You woke up somewhere you didn't recognize at first. Your head hurt and your vision was blurry but soon you were able to make out the image of...Solomon's..room?

"You woke up. I'm so glad." Satan was sitting right beside you. Turns out, being the not so responsible demon he is he took you to Solomon a fellow sorcerer so he could confirm your condition. But when he found out you were only fatigued, his usuall calm and composed manner previously disturbed has returned. With a caring gaze he cupped your face and kissed the top of your head.

• When you returned home he let you rest against him and fall asleep as he read you both a book.

Asmodeus:

• Months into the RAD school year and you were absolutely EXHAUSED. Not only did you have your student council duties and exams to tend to but also your daily training with Solomon. He insisted on them because he rightfully so though that you still don't have enough controll over your powers. He was just protective, you knew that but it was getting very tiresome. Your power was formidable and you having to manage it after a whole day of studying and browsing through countless documents was just cruel.

• Today was the day when you practiced teleportation with your teacher, a topic especially hard for you. Everything regarding using your power seemed to be easy enough EXCEPT teleportation. It's not that you couldn't do it, it just drained the life out of you, everytime you teleported across worlds you had to stop yourself from collapsing and sleeping all day.

• You were in the middle of your training when you suddenly felt very weak, what was it? Maybe you didn't eat enough? Or maybe it was just too much.

• Anyways you told Solomon and he let you off the hook this time to your relief.

• Asmodeus was supposed to pick you up because he wanted to go home together.

• "Ah, here you are gorgerous! You look the absolute cutest! Not as cute as me of course but still I do thin-"

You were walking for a few minutes, you stopped listening to his rambling at some point and switched to focusing on staying concious. That didn't go to well because you could slowly feel yourself drowsing away. Before you did you managed to grab Asmo by the shoulder and lean on him so you don't fall on the hard concrete beneath you.

"MC? What's happening?! Darling dooon't stress me out like this, please wake up!"

• From the lack of any options he could think of at the moment (partially because of how panicked he was) he took you back to Solomon.

You teacher confirmed you condition to be simply exhaustion from using your magic but also from lack of sleep which worried Asmo. His slender arms were not meant to carry you all the way back home so he asked Solomon for help.

• Once you were inside he took you to his room where he looked at you like a sad pup while you slept on his bed, his hand very gently tracing your features as if he was afraid that you'll break under his touch.

When you woke up he proposed that you take a relaxing bath together and after that he nuzzled in your neck as he cuddled you to sleep, giving you a lecture on how you're overworking yourself while he's at it.

~~~~~~~~~

For now I leave these two in your hands, cause I'm lowkey in a bad mood but I will do the twins separately soon enough.

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 23: Your Worth (R)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Warning: 18+ There is a slight mention of porn in this. Nothing bad.

After finishing your "shower," you return to the bedroom to get dressed. Christian must have woken up, as neither he nor Jake is there.

You slip into a pair of black leggings, a white t-shirt, and a blue denim shirt, pairing the outfit with tall tan boots. Tossing your hair into a ponytail, you head to the kitchen, where Sheila is busy cooking at the stove, and Christian sits in his highchair, happily munching on strawberries and French toast.

Sheila smiles warmly as you enter the kitchen. “Morning, Y/N.”

“Morning, Ms. Seresin.”

“Mommy!” Christian exclaims, waving his tiny hand. You walk over to his highchair and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Morning, baby. What are you eating?”

“Strawberries and toast,” he replies with a grin.

“That looks delicious.”

“There’s more on the counter,” Sheila says, glancing over her shoulder. “Help yourself and please, call me Sheila. We are family now.”

“I’ll grab some in a bit. Thank you.”

Just then, your phone rings. “Have you seen Jake?”

“He’s outside fixing the fence by the training pen,” Sheila replies.

“I need to take this call. Is Christian—”

“Sweetie, he’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” You quickly step out the backdoor and answer the phone. “Good morning, Willoughby,” you say as you walk toward the training pen.

“Good morning, Y/N, and congratulations! My apologies for not being able to attend the wedding.”

“Thank you, and no problem. How’s everything on your end?”

“Everything’s under control, but I have some news: your wedding was leaked to the media, and your mother-in-law is pretty upset.”

You sigh. “Of course, it was.”

“We can press charges if you’d like. I talked to Mr. Whitaker as soon as I saw it.”

“Nah. It was probably just some young girl who got upset. No mention of who I married, though?”

“No, ma’am. I also had Whitaker file the proper documents to ensure privacy. I'm sure that's what you wanted done.”

“Of course.”

You stop as you approach the pen, watching Jake work diligently on the fence, his movements steady and precise. His shirt was off, leaving only a pair of jeans, cowboy boots, and work gloves. Sweat already glistened on his muscular chest, catching the morning light.

You raise an eyebrow, a spark of interest flickering in your eyes. Glancing at your watch, you shrug. Not even 9 a.m., and this is the sight that greets you—your husband, hard at work. You’ll take it. With a small smile, you continue your walk toward the fence.

Jake glances your way as you approach, a questioning look flickering across his face.

You do your best to stay focused on Willoughby's words, but the sight of your husband is proving to be quite the distraction.

“I emailed the paperwork to Mr. Whitaker yesterday since he’s already there,” Willoughby says over the phone.

“Perfect. He should be arriving soon,” you reply.

“Good. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Will do. Have a great day.”

“You too.”

You end the call just as you reach Jake, who’s now leaning casually on the fence.

“Who was that, and what was it about?” he asks, his tone laced with curiosity.

You smirk playfully. “Oh, just talking to a porn agency. Thought I’d see if they’d hire you.”

He smirks, his confidence practically radiating. “Darlin’, do you really think the porn industry could handle this? You barely can.”

You smirk back, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Shut up. Not that it matters—I wouldn’t share you anyway.”

“Good,” he replies, his tone softening. “Because I wouldn’t either. Me or you.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile lingers. “Anyways, Mr. Willowby should be here soon.”

“I’m almost done here. I’ll be in shortly.”

“Good. I’ll see you back in the house.”

You turn to walk away but pause, glancing back over your shoulder. “Jake?”

“Yeah?” he replies, raising an eyebrow.

“I think I’ll make sure there’s some fencing that needs fixing back home,” you say with a teasing smile, your eyes glinting mischievously.

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “Is that right?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, turning fully to walk back toward the house, leaving him with a grin on his face.

He smiles, a soft laugh escaping him. “Anything for you, darlin’.”

You sit across from Jake at the dining room table, while Mr. Whitaker takes a seat at the end, positioning himself between the two of you.

“So, what’s all this about?” Jake asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Well, you know I’m rich.”

“I remember you and Phoenix mentioning something about that,” he responds, his tone teasing.

Sheila enters and stands behind Jake.

“Well, after you said ‘I do’ yesterday, your plane was paid for. Along with the vehicles on this ranch and,” you glance at Sheila, “your mortgage. I’m still working on your sisters’ stuff.”

“Y/N, you didn’t have to do that,” Sheila replies, her voice full of gratitude.

“You’re right, I didn’t, but I wanted to. You’re my family now. You all welcomed me with open arms— a stranger your son brought home and declared to marry after just a week and a half. I couldn’t ask for better in-laws.”

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Y/N. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sheila walks back into the kitchen, and just as the door swings shut, Christian bursts in, calling out, “Whit ker!” He runs up to Mr. Whitaker, giving him a quick hug before dashing off to play with Lindsey and Lukas.

“So, Mr. Whitaker, what exactly is your role in all this?” Jake asks, his brow furrowed.

“I’m your attorney, Mr. Seresin,” Whitaker replies with a calm smile.

“And Willoughby?” Jake presses, still trying to piece it together.

“He’s your butler,” Whitaker answers again, his tone firm but patient.

Jake looks at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “Darlin’, how much are you worth?”

Whitaker glances down at a piece of paper before answering. “Well, as of this morning, around 1.5 billion,” he replies matter-of-factly.

The sound of a cup shattering on the kitchen floor breaks the silence, and Jake sits there, speechless.

Phoenix walks in, her gaze flicking from Jake to Whitaker and then to you. She folds her arms across her chest, a smirk playing at her lips. “Oh, so you finally told him.”

Jake remains frozen, still dumbfounded.

Jake slowly turns his gaze from Whitaker to you, his mouth hanging slightly open as he tries to process the information. His mind is clearly working overtime, trying to wrap around the reality of the moment.

"Darlin'," he starts, his voice low and slightly incredulous. "You're telling me... you're worth one point five billion?"

You chuckle softly, the weight of it still feeling surreal despite the conversations you've had. "Yes, Jake. It's all part of the Astor estate and business holdings. I didn't grow up with the wealth, but... it's mine now."

His brow furrows as he processes this, his usual confidence beginning to waver. "And you didn't think to mention this sooner?" he asks, his tone a mix of surprise and a little amusement.

You shrug, your smile soft and understanding. "Christian did the same thing to me. We may have eloped after three days, but I loved him for who he was. Not his money."

Jake's expression softens as he listens to you, the initial surprise fading into a more contemplative look. He leans back in his chair, his gaze not leaving yours. "I get that," he says quietly, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness. "But it must’ve been a hell of a thing to carry around, knowing you’ve got all that money and never really being able to talk about it."

You nod, a touch of sadness in your eyes. "It was. Christian and I kept a lot of things private. It wasn’t about the money, but about trust. And now... I just want to move forward, to build something real with you, Jake. Not based on what I have, but who we are."

Jake studies you for a moment, then lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a hell of a woman, Y/N. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you." He leans forward, taking your hand in his. "I guess I’ll just have to get used to the idea of being married to a billionaire."

You laugh, the tension easing, as you squeeze his hand. "Just don’t get any ideas about expecting fancy gifts," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes. "I’m not that kind of billionaire."

He grins, the warmth in his eyes never leaving. "I don’t need fancy gifts. All I need is you."

You blushed, then turned to Mr. Whitaker and back to Jake. "You'll be set up with an account and you will be added to the estate in case something should ever happen to me or little Christian. A college fund will be set up for Lindsey and Lukas. Anything else I missed, Mr. Whitaker?"

Mr. Whitaker clears his throat, adjusting his glasses as he scans the papers in front of him. “No, I believe everything is covered, Y/N. The legal documents are in order, and your wishes are clear. It’s all been arranged according to your specifications.”

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait a minute. You’re... really setting up a college fund for my sisters’ kids too? I didn’t expect all that, darlin’."

You smile, your gaze softening as you look at him. "They’re your family, Jake. That means they’re mine too. I want to make sure everyone is taken care of."

He shakes his head, still in disbelief, but his expression is filled with gratitude. "You’ve got one hell of a heart, Y/N. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for all of this."

You reach across the table, gently taking his hand in yours. "You don’t have to thank me, Jake. You’ve already given me everything I need. This is just... part of the journey. And I want to share it all with you."

Mr. Whitaker gives a small nod, as though confirming the peace of mind this arrangement provides. “Everything is in order. It’s all yours to manage as you see fit.”

Jake takes a deep breath, looking at the papers in front of him before locking eyes with you again. "Alright, darlin’. I guess I’ll have to get used to the idea of not having to worry about money for the rest of our lives." His voice softens, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But what I really care about is that we’re building something together. That’s what matters to me."

Your heart swells at his words, the sense of partnership growing stronger. "Me too, Jake. Me too."

Tags: @smoothdogsgirl @alwayshave-faith @devil-angel-winchester @khouse712 @illisea @hookslove1592 @tgmreader @juliemarauderfan @djs8891

[derangedanomaly]

hi! Could I have some Bad Sanses headcannons with a new member (crush or future s/o) who has the power to control time but doesn't think that power is a big deal?

Like, he thinks it's not a big deal because he only knows how to see the future and that's it (because the power isn't trained yet)

(please make reader male or gender neutral)

Sorry if it's confusing, english is not my first language :(

Nah, you don't have to worry. Your English is fine! I understood you very well ^^

I'll do male reader, since there's not many for my guys out there! But as I know myself, I think that it won't be mentioned much, so I guess that you can still take it as gender neutral?

Enjoy!

Masterlist

Bad Sanses with a time manipulator reader (male)

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Error)

Nightmare:

The only thing he's thinking right now, is; This dude can benefit me so much!!

Yeah... You just got yourself in a trap 😀

He doesn't listen to you when you tell him how you think your power is useless. He's literally ordering the others to train you while you're yapping.. wants to see your powers immediately.

He's kinda- disappointed when he finds out that you can only see the future. (Mf should've listened when you were telling him that 🙄)

These thoughts immediately disappear when he figures out that you can literally tell them the exact time the Star Sanses attack them.

Overall.. really manipulative.. constantly manipulates you into doing so many things for them- and they're not for the greater good either. 💀

Killer:

Mf does NOT believe you. (At first I mean)

You get bored of him asking you to prove your powers so fast 💀

"If you can read the future, then tell me what I'm going to do next!!" Immediately followed by your answer: "You're gonna call me a liar." "I KNEW IT!! YOU LIAR!!" "......" "You just had luck.." mhm. Yeah, sure. Luck.

His mouth literally dropped when he finds out that you in fact wasn't lying..

Now that he knows your powers are legit... Oh boy... He's gonna abuse the shit out of that..

And I don't mean it in the same way as the way Nightmare's using you, no! More like a.... Goofy way??

Bro's gonna be asking you about the next time he falls down the stairs, so he'll be prepared for that and not fall down. (He still will fall down.)

He will feel sympathy for you after Nightmare starts using you.. but he can do nothing with that. So... He cuddles you! (As a way of comfort) Only if you want to of course.

Dust:

Oh this nerd... He'll absolutely believe you! Like- the first time you tell them, he believes you. Wants to know more, actually.

He's probably the one you get close to the first, because he talks to you so often. I mean- they never really met anyone like you before!

He wants to document every single thing about you. Huh? Why are you asking him why your favorite food is important for this? That's only for him to know! (The dude is just a *closeted* hopeless romantic)

Wants to help you with the fact you can only see the future.

Visibly rolls his eyes whenever Nightmare is ordering you around.

Literally cannot stand the fact Nightmare is just using you, but he can't do anything about it... I mean, who in their right mind would argue with NIGHTMARE? Not him. That's for sure. But he will offer you comfort.

Horror:

Doesn't really care about your powers, but he does find it interesting.

Doesn't ask you as much questions as Dust does, but he does ask a bit about it.

He's probably the second one you get close to, and that's mainly because he sticks to Dust a lot, so he's basically a part of y'all's conversations. (Except he doesn't say anything 💀)

He doesn't want to use you for your powers, simply because it doesn't benefit him. (And he also doesn't think it's right.)

He WILL be pretty mad that Nightmare's using you. Will try to fight with Nightmare over this, but Dust stops him. (We all know that that wouldn't end good.)

From now on, Horror will always stick by your side, ready to defend you or help you out whenever! (Congratulations)

Error:

He actually thinks that your powers are dope.

He also wants to see your powers in action, similar to Nightmare, but he doesn't want to use you.

You might be asking, why? Well, his ego is bigger than the fucking sky, so he comes to the conclusion that he doesn't need for you to tell him the future, because he.."can predict Ink's move", he's also technically not part of Nightmare's team, it's basically just a part-time for him. (Whenever he's needed, or he's bored🤷‍♀️).

He's probably the last one, (not counting Nightmare), you get closer to. It's mainly because you don't see him often though.

He still lives in the anti-void, and spends a lot of time there, that's why. But you're not on bad terms either. (Don't have any reason to.. yet.)

Not much to say, really. You two don't interact much. But you can change that 😏