#IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN HATE -> IT WAS DESTINED

[aurorasgate]

Long time no see love! Hope you've been keeping well! 💕

I have the antique anatomy skeletal set too! Now I'm curious to see what you can pull from there to make a story. Could you do a 3 card full deck pull from there for Sylus? Thanks! 💕

sylus x reader

love written in the cards event

cards pulled:

the world ✵ key words: wisdom, ending, achievement, success, completion, freedom

2 of rods ✵ key words: instinct, action, balance

4 of blades ✵ key words: rest, recovery, healing

[mission successful]

closing the notification on your watch, a wave carrying everything you had pushed aside up until now crashes against you in full force, reminding you just how much work you had put into this past week. tense muscles you think were running on pure adrenaline for at least the last two days thrum with more than a dull ache, the bruises and scrapes along your body making themselves reknown in a tingling burn and in some places you swear it hurts down to your bones. 

it's not just the physical discomforts that floods back into you. the remembrance of every moment you’ve found yourself missing the one man who is always on the forefront of your mind and the longing to be with him that’s grown rapidly each day you’ve apart now fills you so intensely you don’t think you could make it another day without hearing his voice and seeing his handsome face. right now you do think you’d consider that physical all the same with the way it wraps around and clenches your heart. 

right now, it’s more apparent than anything else you’re feeling. 

with the critical state of the small town outside of linkon that you’d been sent to for your mission you’ve hardly had time to sleep, let alone look at your phone but with the communication system down for the last 4 days it hadn’t really made a difference except for the fact that it only made you miss sylus more. it would likely be a while before the comms came back up but you weren’t planning to stick around for when that happens because all that was left to do, all you needed to do, is return home. 

though it’s not your apartment in linkon as the picture of home in mind as you attempt to forget your tiredness one last time, for just a little longer, and make your way from the battlefield to the place you and the other hunters had been staying in order to pack your things. it’s only the thought of being in sylus’s arms as soon as possible that allows the very last of your strength to push all the discomfort and tiredness aside as you hop onto the back of your bike.

maybe you should have waited, tried to sleep, had sylus come visit you when you made your way back with everyone else but the thought of putting this off any longer was so quickly thrown out of your mind. you aren’t sure when it started, or if maybe it had always been this way, but you hate being away from sylus, always wanting more of him and his time, his love, and right now you wouldn’t make either of you wait a second longer. 

every move you make to the n109 zone is controlled and safe, your heart's desire willing your body to hold out until you reach your destination. the red string tying your two hearts together tugs you straight towards him, going taught the closer you are and when you enter the n109 zone, inside your chest you can feel it being plucked, humming with a vibration of impatience and longing that you wonder if he can feel too.

you’d like to believe that he does and that he’s waiting for you too, having missed you as much as you did him during your time apart.

finally, with onychinus’s base comes into view, you can’t help but go just a little faster, feeling your strength ready to slip any minute with the place holding your home almost within reach. and slip it does the moment you kick down the stand to your bike and slide off of it, though with every passing second you think maybe ‘disappearing completely’ would be a better description for your strength leaving you and the way exhausted hits you like a train.

every step you take is heavy, pressure on bones and muscles that are now screaming at you to let them rest. the bag on your back feels like it’s holding bars of lead rather than your gun and the few changes of clothes you had with you. you half debate ditching it just a few steps from your destination. 

by the time you’ve made it to the door, lifting your arms to push it open feels like a feat in and of itself but it’s one you’d conquer so long as the holder of your heart was on the other side. before your hand can wrap around the handle however, the door is pulled back so quickly the rush of it, along with the picking of your heart rate, has you fighting to stay upright and it’s something you give into completely at a flash of ruby red eyes and a soft call of your name.

you feel as limp as a wet noodle falling face first into sylus’s chest, letting your bag fall to your feet in your descent. so quickly, so easily, he catches you in his strong arms and sweeps you off your feet, your body beyond thankful to not have to stand a moment longer.

“are you hurt?” he asks, an urgent graveness to his tone.

you shake your heart against him. “no, just very very tired.” ‘tired’ feels like an understatement of the year but it’s easy to forget with the way your heart soars as you bask in the rumble of his deep chuckle vibrating against your body that he holds so close, with such gentle power. 

“you’re tired enough you can’t even stand and yet you found the energy to come see as soon as your mission was finished. you must have been very determined,” his voice is soft and warm and laced with a teasing lilt, a stark contrast to the worry you heard in it only moments ago and at the sound of it you can feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

you’ve missed him so unbelievably much and now that you’re with him, in his embrace, your happiness and relief takes on multiple forms that you don’t have any means to control. letting your head fall limp on his chest, your ear pressed close to his heart, all you can do is agree with him as you listen to his steady heart beat. 

“i was because i knew i wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully without being with you again.”

“is that so?”

your arm aches in your attempt to reach for him but you don’t care, you need to feel more of him, and ignore your fingers protests when they curl into the softness of his dark shirt weakly. “yeah, and i was right. i already feel better.” as the quiet words leave your lips, you can feel the tears clinging to your lashes falling, making their way down to the corners of your tired but genuine smile. from the moment they leave your eyes, you can feel his own on you and when you look up at him, there’s no hiding the worried crease of his brow. all you want to do is sooth it away. “i’m sorry, i don’t mean to cry. i just.. can’t help it.”

“you never need to be sorry, especially when it comes to showing your emotions,” he says the words like there’s nothing more true he’s ever said and you believe him. you’d always believe anything he said. “cry all you need sweetie. i’m not going anywhere.”

“then i guess i’ll be making a full recovery, huh?”

he chuckles, gentle and warm and the remnants of it linger on his lips that brush against the crown of your head. “of course sweetheart. you’re fierce kitten but i will always be here to ensure you do too.”

hi my lovely! thank you, i hope you've been too! i LOVE this deck so much, it's beyond gorgeous and i like the twist on the normal suits and love that you have it too hehe i was so excited to write this for you, i really hope you like it<3 thank you for joining in on my event and helping me get out of my little writing slump

[therainscene]

[Mentions of ST5 leaks below.]

I've been thinking about Linda Hamilton's mysterious role in S5. Leaks tend to agree that she plays a military character of some sort, but I dunno how difficult a guess that is to make given how much of a gun-toting badass her Terminator character is.

Most of ST's guest stars tend to be cast in roles that reflect the classic 80s movies they were in -- Paul Reiser plays a representative of an exploitative institution like in Aliens; Sean Astin solves a puzzle map that leads to underground tunnels like in The Goonies; Robert Englund plays (the father of) a heavily-scarred, mind-walking child murderer like in A Nightmare on Elm Street, etc -- but is that true for all of them?

What does Larry Kline (the slimy Mayor who screws over small businesses to protect the interests of a large corporation) have in common with Cary Elwes's most famous role (the dashing, swashbuckling farmhand-turned-pirate from Princess Bride)? The similarities may not be immediately obvious, but I think they're clearer when you remember that Elwes also played Robin Hood -- Larry Kline is an ironic reversal of the working-class hero Elwes is known for.

What if Linda Hamilton has been cast as an ironic reversal of Sarah Connor?

Sarah Connor is the mother of humanity's future savior, and by Terminator 2, the burden of ensuring that he survives being the target of a genocidal time-travelling AI has turned her into a hardened solider plagued by nightmares of children dying in an apocalypse she's helpless to prevent.

You can hardly blame her for feeling helpless. Even without the time-travelling robots, she's just one woman trying to make a stand against powerful institutions: the military-funded lab that's ignorantly creating the AI her son is destined to oppose; the asylum doctors who think she's a raving lunatic unfit to raise a child.

It's very reflective of 80s anxieties -- not just the Cold War threat of nuclear annihilation, but the conservative threat of social annihilation in the name of silencing misunderstood minorities.

A reversal of Sarah Connor would, therefore, be someone who is still obsessed with protecting children from a rogue (time-travelling? 🤞) hivemind -- but from the conservative, institutionalized power side of things.

In other words: exactly the sort of antagonistic force that was foreshadowed in the S4 epilogue.

(Should the leaks be true, then this would be the real reason for casting Hamilton in a military role.)

Following this train of thought: if we're getting a villain who's focused on "protecting" children, then what does that suggest about the fact that Holly Wheeler -- 7 year-old sister of a gay Hellfire member and frequent innocent witness to The Horrors that surround him -- is shaping up to be one of Henry's targets in S5?

Let's talk about Ted and Karen.

I feel like these two tend to be misunderstood by the fandom. Either they're frothing bigots who would kick Mike out of the house the instant they found out he was queer, or they're chill allies who have been assuming that Mike was dating Will this whole time.

But that's what Will's parents are like. As a visible gay kid who's playing the stereotypical Sad Gay Boy archetype, it makes sense for Will to have parents that represent the obvious extremes of queer acceptance: Lonnie is never going to be convinced that it's anything other than shameful for his son to be queer, and Joyce is never going to be convinced that there's anything wrong with the way her son loves.

But Mike is the invisible, ambiguously straight-passing kid deep in the throes of comphet -- his role is to surprise the audience by subverting their expectations. And so it's important, I think, that his parents represent the subtler attitude that best reflects his story: the ignorant conformists.

They're the sort of people who get offended when they're accused of bigotry -- they're not hateful, heaven forbid! -- but who still passively support bigoted systems because they refuse to stand up like Sarah Connor or Joyce Byers and challenge the status quo.

While I do believe that "our son with a girl?" is a queer-coded line, I don't think the point was necessarily to suggest that Ted knows about Mike's queerness.

Consider the full context of that scene: Brenner was pressuring the Wheelers to rat Mike out so that this weird kid he was hiding (literally in his closet at one point!) could be apprehended, and he easily won them over with a little "protect the children" fearmongering:

The Wheelers want to support Mike -- but they can only understand his behaviour within the heteronormative white suburban context they're used to, and they'll readily trust authorities they absolutely should not be trusting to explain what help he needs.

Unlike Lonnie, though, the Wheelers have the capacity to change in this regard -- and have slowly been doing so. They immediately clocked the ridiculousness of the town's Satanic Panic in S4, and the last time we saw them, they demonstrated a promising willingness to question authority and roll their eyes at conservative fearmongering.

But they haven't completed their redemption arc just yet. Holly's disappearance will be an important test of their commitment to this change in attitude.

Picture a redux of that S1 scene, with Hamilton's character in Brenner's role: "I understand your skepticism. It seems ridiculous that there are people in our town who are so committed to hurting children. But cultists are a different breed. Do you remember what happened to Will Byers four years ago? You don't really believe that he randomly got lost in the woods for a week, do you? The same week another child was found dead in the quarry? We can help your daughter, but only if you act now. Tell us where your misguided son and that deeply unwell boy he's a little too close to have gone."

Do they give in to the fearmongering and throw Mike under the bus for Holly's sake?

Or do they clock this bullshit for what it is and decide to peek behind the curtain -- and finally become the sort of parents Mike needs them to be?

[artandpunishment]

The Currents

*Spoilers for Thunderbolts* after the intro*

I felt a spiteful love for Walker growing when I saw the first Thunderbolts trailer. Like everyone else, I hated him during TFATWS. But like with the literal Greek hero, Achilles, I wanted to take Walker under my wing, respectfully. I was glad that we got to see his room in the void and wanted to elaborate more.

Summary: just a musing of John Walker post TFATWS and throughout the duration of Thunderbolts*.

Trigger warnings: brief mentions of alcoholism, mild language, mention of mcu violence (nothing crazy)

John Walker was an asshole. John Walker was a failure. The dime store Captain America, the "Junior varsity Captain America." He knew it was clear as day. He knew it every time he put on his U.S. Agent suit. U.S. Agent. Yeah, right. U.S. Vigilante, U.S. mistake and regret. This was his sideline, this was his punishment. Sure, he could still fight, it was the only thing he could still do—aside from fucking up his life even more.

His best friend was dead. When he thought he did the right thing, avenging him, you'd have thought he would be commended. If it weren't for the witnesses, if it weren't for the broadcasting of his brutality, no one would have known—or at least would sympathize without the gruesome image of him bashing someone's head in. That was what got to him. He did what he knew to do as a soldier. Yes, he wasn't the best one, that obviously was Steve Rogers. But you'd think after trying so hard to emulate the guy, John would have turned out better. So many acknowledgements, addendums, stipulations, and unfortunate circumstances. All of them led to him becoming bitter, acrid even, and single. His loyalty, his sacrifice for his country, all sidelined in the face of his dark side—the simple reality of a man, the result of his glory. Who knew what Steve Rogers, or even Bucky Barnes did in their free time. There was no way they wouldn't have drank if they had the metabolism.

Sitting beside his child's crib, John Walker was faced with article after article, proclaiming his downfall. He was a historic misstep in a hard time of missteps. He would drink too, if his metabolism would let him. He could sit around and lament the soldiers that came before him, one is dead, the other a shadow of a man, but at least he's a senator. Walker knew he was ignoring his wife and child. He wasn't surprised when she left. It was one decision he didn't have to make, but his inaction was a decision with a result he could have stopped.

Now, alone, in a dark apartment with rent barely paid, he was where he felt like he deserved to be. A grimace now beginning to be permanently etched on his face, this was just fine. After what he did, had he really tried all that hard? He knew before he brought that shield down, that he should have waited. He knew that he should have picked up his son, held him and his wife longer. But he didn't. He was too engrossed in what he thought should have been; what he wanted it to have been.

Every day was a struggle. Going out, hoping that no one recognized him was a dance he hated participating in. It rarely happened. The paranoia is what bothered him. Anxious, he would walk to the bodega, always looking over his shoulder or ducking around a corner. If anyone stared too long (they weren't paying attention), if someone was following him (never more than two blocks and never with the same destination), he had to react. He had to move. John didn't want to be caught, he didn't want to be made to feel worse than he already did. It wasn't the consequences that he didn't want to face, it was the quiet, lonely aftermath. Currently, he was Captain America. Then time passed. Currently, he was a waste of space, a colossal mistake, but another added to America's massive pile. Currently, he was worried that he would never receive the chance to be something better.

At first, Val was that saving grace he craved. For months, Walker had agonized over that 'something better.' Each mission she sent out made his medals worth it. It gave him adrenaline he had longed to embrace. From making people in his hometown proud with his football wins, to protecting his country, Walker loved it. Deep down, he loved making people happy. No matter how stupid people made it sound, although, he didn't admit that out loud. He was a soldier, his opinions were hardly ever wanted, only orders.

When Valentina sent him into that mile-deep room, hunting the Black Widow's sister, he was under the impression that she had done something horrific. He was ready to keep proving his worth, to keep killing. At that point, hardly anything other than fight and survive were thought in his head. As he had to work with not only her, but Ava, and 'Bobby,' something started to click. The desire to protect was shaking awake, albeit very slowly. That look Yelena gave him when she realized his wife left him, that he was in just as deep as the rest of them, was a rather solemn feeling. He felt included. Seen. It was a no-brainer to jump in front of Bucky when Sentry redirected the bullets. It was second nature to run after Yelena and to help cover Bob from the Void.

The oncoming fourteen months were hard but they were infinitely better than the past five years of his life. And through those fourteen months, they were better because he wasn't alone. He was learning to be kind again. No matter what fight came next, he had something so much stronger than him on his side. Currently, he had a family.

[yume-fanfare]

the change from daikirai na hazudatta -> unmei no hito datta is making me lose it

[kennycatchabreak]

what dale was thinkin’ about before he stepped thru the faraway tree:

[the-kipsabian]

i will blow up the us mail service if the bracelets i sent three weeks ago arent delivered this week

[trusweethrt]

LATE NIGHT DRIVES

PAIRING: BSF!RAFE X SWEETHEART!FEM!READER

summary: Rafe cherished these drives with you. Where you both would blare your wildly different music, talk about anything that came to mind, and stop at random convenience stores for snacks. It was the only time where he felt genuinely relaxed and content.

a/n: okayy new setup? 🫣 I dunno, I'm trying it out but I likee. very professional, very cutesy. Anyway, this is my first well thought out writing so please do leave constructive criticism if you think I could do something different next time...

word count: 0.6k

The route to your house was second nature by now. He's been there so much that he almost knows it better than his own home. which he doesn't mind at all, cause your house was basically his second home.

As you lie in your bed, your phone buzzes with an "I'm outside" text from Rafe. So per routine, you get up, throwing on the first hoodie in reach and heading out of the door.

He blows out out a breath, letting out a low "Its about fucking time" as you get in his truck.

"yeah yeah, it wasn't that long. you're just impatient"

he pulls out of your driveway, scoffing slightly "I must have plenty of patience, I deal with you, don't I? and put your seat belt on."

Once your seat belt is fastened, he begins driving on the road, having no destination in mind like usual. For a while, it's just silence between you two. Which isn't uncommon for both of you, it's familiar and more comforting than he'd like to admit.

"Lets stop at a gas station for snacks" you request, looking out the window

He nods, a murmured "sure" leaving his lips as he drives in the direction of the nearest gas station.

Entering the gas station, you immediately make your way toward the section with candy, picking out packages of a variety of candies while he heads towards the chips.

Once you both have gathered a good amount of snacks for each of you, which you both are gonna end up sharing anyway, you set them down on the counter as the cashier to rings up all of the items that he ends up paying for like usual since he'll throw a fit if he doesn't.

When you both make it into the car, he drives to the usual spot you both spend nights at. An empty parking lot. "Oh my gosh, turn it up!" you motion to the radio, smiling widely.

He groans as he turns up the radio "What the hell is this? Taylor Swift?"

"Sabrina Carpenter" you correct "And it's good, just listen."

"Yeah, I'd rather not" he replies as he takes a few gummy bears from the bag in your lap. He always claims to hate your music taste but you always find him humming a beat to one of the songs you pick out during a drive.

He leans back into his seat, chewing slowly as he listens to the lyrics. "You listen to some dirty music" he chuckles

"Hey, she's not that bad. You should see her on tour though, you'll have a stroke."

he raises his eyebrow, an amused expression on his face "really, huh? what, are you gonna go?"

you hum, shaking your head "No. I want to, though. But her tickets are kinda pricey. Maybe if I have extra money to spend soon."

"I'll take you."

The Skittles you were eating nearly get stuck in your throat as you look at him in bewilderment "What?! No! Rafe, that's too much money."

he shrugs "It's fine. I wanna do it. Just let me? Please?" of course he wouldn't bat an eye at spending that much money, he was loaded.

you hesitate for a moment, but seeing the insistence in his eyes, you eventually nod slightly "Fine. You can take me. But I'm paying you back eventually, alright?"

"Mm okay, sure. Deal." he agrees, even though he knows when it comes time for you to pay him back, he'll either give the money right back to you or refuse it.

"Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate it." you smile, genuinely touched by his willingness to spend that much money on you. It was rare that he went out of his way to please someone.

"Mhm, of course" he smiles back before throwing a gummy bear your way "consider it a late birthday gift."

"my birthday was like nine months ago, but okay."

"Mm yeah, just go with it" he chuckles, reaching over and talking your hand.

That was definitely new...

[flowersforbucky]

sweetener

bucky barnes x reader

summary: when the vacation that you've been planning for months gets canceled due to a last minute mission, you can't help but feel bummed - the bright side is that you're being sent on a mission with bucky.

word count: 5.3k - my masterlist

warnings/tags: canon level violence, descriptions of injuries, mention of blood, almost drowning, hospital setting, bad guys getting killed (not descriptive), non-sexual nudity, hurt/comfort trope, avenger!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, language, reader pov, no use of y/n, fem reader, bucky being super soft, not explicit but mdni please

when life deals us cards

make everything taste like it is salt

then you come through like the sweetener you are

to bring the bitter taste to a halt

Hand warmers. Flashlight and extra batteries. Can opener. Matches. First aid kit –

You glance down the handwritten list for the dozenth time that morning, checking and rechecking that you aren't forgetting anything obvious.

Your eyes flicker between the ridiculous amount of supplies scattered across your bed and the three large duffle bags on your floor that you're determined to pack it all into. You know that you are most likely being excessive, but you'd much rather be too thorough than not thorough enough when you're about to be miles deep in the Appalachian wilderness.

Sure, you'd be staying at a relatively civilized campground with restrooms and showers, but this is the first time that you've been camping in years, and your first time ever going camping alone.

A two day road trip there, then six days in the Great Smoky Mountains, and then another two day road trip back to upstate New York.

A much needed ten days of time spent by yourself, seeing as how you haven't gone on anything resembling a vacation in over two years. The last couple years have been nonstop work with very little time for relaxation.

To say that you're excited would be an understatement. Although you find immense fulfillment in the work that you do with the Avengers and can't see yourself doing anything else, you're ready to sit by a warm fire and sleep under the stars without a care in the world.

Just as you've finished packing the second bag and are about to begin on the third, the Bluetooth speaker that your cell phone is paired to begins blasting your ringtone, cutting off the music that you'd been listening to while you pack.

When you grab the phone off of your nightstand and see the name Nick Fury displayed across the screen, a ball of unease immediately forms in the pit of your stomach.

Nick Fury isn't the type to call and chit chat about how your day is going or what shows you've been binge watching. He's the type to call when he wants something done, and wants it done now.

“Hey, Fury,” you greet in a neutral tone as you perch on the edge of your bed. With the phone still connected to your speaker, you place it back down on the nightstand so that you are free to wring your hands together.

“Agent,” Fury's voice booms throughout your room. “I hope I've caught you before you've left the state of New York.”

Godfuckingdammit.

“Uh - yep. I'm still here. Packing up for my trip right now,” you answer, trying your hardest to conceal the irritation in your voice. There's a small voice in the back of your head telling you that you should just lie and say you are already on the road, but you're not stupid enough to lie to Nick Fury.

There's a second, louder voice in the back of your mind screaming at you that you shouldn’t have even answered the phone.

“You know I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm going to suggest you pack a tactical suit and weapon of choice instead of hiking boots and a sleeping bag. We just got word that a vibranium weapons dealer we've been tracking will be receiving a large shipment at a port in Destin tomorrow night. Need you and Barnes on a flight to Florida this afternoon.”

“Florida?” you repeat, unable to hide the shock and disappointment in your tone. “I can't go to Florida right now. I've been planning this trip for months. I put in the notice for my leave–”

“I realize that this is unfortunate timing but I'm afraid that this is non-negotiable, Agent,” he interrupts you in a tone of finality. “If we don't intercept this shipment then these weapons fall into very dangerous hands. With Romanoff and Rogers still in San Antonio until next week, I have no choice but to ask you and Barnes to handle it.”

You exhale an audible, frustrated breath and massage the heels of your palms into your eye sockets. You don't know why you're surprised. It's not like illegal arms dealers take your vacation time into consideration when they plot their dealings.

“Is that understood, Agent?” he asks when you don't respond.

“Yes,” you say as you dig your nails into the flesh of your palm to hold back any further argument. “Yes, I understand.”

“Great. The jet leaves in three hours.”

The line cuts off before you can get another word out.

You groan out loud. Three hours. That doesn't even leave you enough time to feel sorry for yourself.

You look around at the chaotic state of your room before your gaze lands on the already packed duffle bags filled with camping supplies.

You're too annoyed and short on time to care right now, so you empty the contents of both bags back onto your bed and tell yourself that you'll deal with the mess when you get back home. For now, you need to focus on packing the appropriate items for taking down a vibranium arms dealer in hotass Florida.

Beneath all of the disappointment and frustration, there's a glimmer of relief that at the very least it's Bucky who you're being sent on this unexpected mission with. You may not be fond of hot weather, but you are quite fond of him.

••••••

Just as Fury said, the jet departs from the compound at exactly three o'clock. You sit in the aircraft's cabin, reading through a thick file containing all of the information that SHIELD has compiled on Dmitri Petrov's crime empire, ranging from drug smuggling to illegal arms deals.

You are only a few pages into the report and it's abundantly clear why this mission was non-negotiable. Petrov has been getting away unscatched for years - tomorrow night will be the first clear opportunity for a take down since getting on SHIELD's radar.

“Coffee?” A voice snaps you back to reality, making you realize that you're reading the same sentence for the dozenth time. “Three creams, two sugars.”

You look up to find a vibranium hand holding out a disposable cup to you. If the fact that he's committed the way you take your coffee to memory isn't enough to increase your heart rate, his smirk and the crinkles around his blue eyes do the trick.

“Thank you,” you tell him, snapping the folder shut on the table in front of you. “My eyes are on the verge of bleeding.” You take a sip of the coffee - indeed, three creams and two sugars.

He takes the seat directly across from you, spinning the folder around for him to flip through himself.

“We land in less than half an hour and you've been reading this the entire flight,” he says teasingly as he thumbs through the pages. “I think it's safe to say you're prepared.”

“Just trying to get myself in the right headspace. I didn't know anything about this operation until a few hours ago, you know.”

Not one to complain, you had yet to bring up the fact that your trip had been postponed in order for you to be here. You had talked about the trip on several occasions with Bucky, but you didn't expect him to remember the exact dates that you were supposed to be gone.

Sure - if he was going to be away for over a week, you'd be hyper aware of it until he returned - but you weren't naive enough to think that he would know the exact dates of your comings and goings.

He places the file back down, returning his attention to you.

“I know,” he sighs, a sympathetic look on his face. “I was on my way to tell you to have a good trip and to be safe when I got the call from Fury this morning.”

Oh. Your cheeks heat at the casual admission from him.

“I'm sorry about your trip. I know you were really looking forward to it,” he adds sincerely. “I'm going to find extra enjoyment in putting Dmitri Petrov behind bars for causing it to get canceled.”

“You and me both,” you chuckle. “Really though, it's okay. I was bummed, but it's not the end of the world. It can easily be rescheduled once this guy is locked up and we're back home.”

You don't add the fact that you find yourself caring less and less about the canceled trip the longer that you sit here with him.

“There is at least one silver lining to this, you know,” he chimes, leaning forward with his elbows on the table between you. You instinctively lean in closer too, causing the side of your leg to brush against his beneath the table. You wait to see if he'll pull away, and when he doesn't, you leave the side of your thigh resting against his.

“Oh, yeah? And what's that?”

“Petrov’s shipment isn't set to arrive until tomorrow night, and they've sent us down here the day prior. It's not like we have to stay holed up in our hotel room for the next twenty-four hours, right?”

••••••

Bucky's right - there's no sense in locking yourselves inside the hotel room until the time of the weapons deal tomorrow evening, but when you see the hotel room that you'll be spending the next couple nights in, you think you would also be okay with staying inside if you had to.

It's not a five star resort by any means, but in comparison to the dingy roadside motels that you're normally stuck in for missions? This place might as well be a Four Seasons.

It's relatively small, but there's more than enough space for the two of you. There's one full size bed, plus a couch that converts to a futon mattress - the latter of which Bucky insists on taking, giving you the bed. The bathroom is nearly as big as the main room, with a jacuzzi tub that's bigger than three standard bathtubs put together.

And the best part of it? When you open the curtains to the sliding glass door on the backside of the room, there's a clear view of turquoise water and white sand.

“I guess Fury felt a little bad about springing this on me at the last minute, after all,” you sigh as you pull the door open, letting the light breeze pull the smell of saltwater into the room. “Can't say that I’ve been given a beachfront room for a mission before.”

Bucky walks up to stand beside you, leaning against the doorframe and staring out to the ocean.

“It's definitely a step up from the rat and roach infested Motel 6 that Sam and I had to spend three nights in when we were sent to Atlanta for recon last month.”

You shake your head, both cringing and laughing at the memory of him ranting about the motel room as soon as he saw you after returning home.

“It was the size of a fucking capybara. Why are you laughing? I opened the bathroom door and it charged at me–”

A sudden deep rumbling noise snaps you out of the memory and you glance down at your stomach in surprise. You suppose it makes sense that your body is screaming at you to eat - you had such little time to pack for Destin before your flight left that you hadn't even bothered with lunch today.

“How does pizza sound?” Bucky asks with a knowing smirk. “I saw a pizza place just down the street on the way here.”

“Anything sounds good right now,” you sigh, both starving and exhausted from your day of packing, unpacking, re-packing and traveling.

“I'll go grab one for us,” he tells you, pulling the keys to the rental car out of his pocket. “Just stay here and get settled in.”

You don't object, itching to change into comfier, more weather appropriate clothes. When you left the state of New York just a few hours ago, it was chilly outside. Now that you are in eighty plus degree Destin, the sweater and boots that you're wearing have got to go.

You unpack your bag, thankful that you had brought a pair of casual drawstring shorts. You throw them on, along with a tank top. You decide to go ahead and convert the futon from a sofa into a bed, and then search through the hotel room's small linen closet for a set of sheets and a quilt. If Bucky insists on you taking the comfier sleeping option and going to get food for the two of you, you figure the least you can do is make his bed for him.

When he returns, he not only has a large cardboard box containing the pizza, but a plastic bag hanging from his vibranium arm as well.

“Grab a towel and follow me,” he tells you before he's even closed the door behind him.

“Follow you?” You laugh, taken aback by the instructions. “Where are we going?”

You hop up from where you'd been mindlessly scrolling on your phone on the bed, doing as he asked and grabbing one of the complementary beach towels from the bathroom closet.

“Not staying holed up in our hotel room. Remember?”

And with that he pulls the sliding glass door open with his empty hand and exits the room, heading towards the beach that sits directly in the backyard. You don't even take the time to throw on a pair of tennis shoes before practically running after him through the sand.

He comes to a stop when he's a few yards away from where the waves wash up against shore and turns back to look at you. You take it as your cue to spread the towel across the sand at your feet.

He sits down and you follow, the cardboard box nestled between you. He opens it, revealing a pizza that is split down the middle - half your favorite, half his favorite.

“I know it's not a campfire in the Great Smoky Mountains,” he smirks. He digs into the plastic bag and pulls out a drink for each of you, along with some napkins. “But it's the best I could do in our current situation.”

The sentiment leaves you momentarily speechless. You know it isn't a grand declaration of love, and it might not mean as much to some people as it does to you - but you can't remember the last time someone went out of their way just to improve your day in such a simple yet thoughtful way.

Between the pizza, the vibrant pink and purple sky as the sun sinks beyond the ocean's horizon, the sound of the waves and him beside you, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.

“No,” you murmur. “It's not. But it's perfect.”

••••••

The next day, you manage to forget that you're actually on a super important mission taking down a dangerous illegal arms dealer.

The first half of the day feels like an actual vacation - the closest thing you've had to a vacation in a long time, anyway. You sleep in until nearly ten o'clock in the morning - which may not be considered sleeping in for some people, but in this line of work, you've overslept if you're still in bed at eight am.

After waking up thoroughly rested and refreshed, the two of you get brunch and then spend the early hours of the afternoon leisurely strolling at the boardwalk just a short drive from your hotel.

You and Bucky are sitting on a bench eating ice cream when you check your phone for the first time in hours and realize how quickly the day has gone. It's already four o'clock - you're due to be on lookout at the pier where Petrov's exchange will occur soon.

“What's wrong?” Bucky asks when you huff under your breath as you stick your phone back into your pocket. “Nervous about tonight?”

You're not nervous, truthfully. You're fully confident that you and Bucky will be able to handle the job. You've been on countless missions less straight forward than this before, and so has he.

“No,” you shake your head as you take another bite of your ice cream cone. “It's… silly,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal.

“I'm sure it's not silly,” he assures you gently.

You pause, staring at a couple holding hands in the distance as you contemplate your words.

Bucky seems to follow your gaze.

“Today has just been really nice,” you shrug with a small smile. “I almost don't want to go back home.”

From your peripheral vision, you see his face shift to look at you. You continue to eat your ice cream, pretending that his stare doesn't warm you more than the Florida sun.

“We're on the same page then, doll.”

••••••

A few hours later, a feeder ship pulls up to the pier just after dusk.

“We've got eyes on three men,” you say lowly into your communication device. “They're guarding the pier. No sign of Petrov yet.”

“He'll show,” Fury's voice echoes in your ear. “Keep watch until then. Backup is on standby to take him in.” The comm clicks off before you can respond.

“I know there's a lot riding on this going smoothly,” you grumble as you bring your binoculars back up to your eyes. “But sometimes I think he just really needs to get laid.”

You and Bucky are across the road from the pier, concealed by large shrubs and the darkness of the night sky. You've been sitting here as still and silently as possible for well over an hour, before Petrov's men had even arrived to stand guard at the dock.

You really fucking have to pee.

Headlights begin to approach from down the street, and as the vehicle gets closer you're able to see that it's a large, black van.

Totally not suspicious at all.

It comes to a stop close to the boat dock, and a second later Petrov hops out of the driver's seat. You recognize him right away by his shrimpy build and receding hairline.

“I should just take them all out from here and be done with this,” Bucky grumbles from beside you.

“I agree,” you sigh. “But Fury's adamant that Petrov be brought in alive if possible. He’s got an empire behind him that we need to find out as much as possible about. His men, however..” you trail off.

Bucky looks through the scope of his gun, zeroing in on one of the guards.

“Blow a tire on the van first,” you murmur. “So Petrov can't flee.”

“I'll take out these three guards, and then I'll get Petrov and call for back-up. You worry about getting to that ship and taking out anyone inside. Sound like a plan?”

“Easy peasy,” you agree.

Less than thirty seconds later, all three guards have dropped dead and Petrov is frantically running to his van, unaware that Bucky had shot the back tire after killing his guards. You and Bucky emerge from the shrubs, sprinting across the road. He dashes towards Petrov, who freezes and begins shouting curses in Russian when he sees what is running towards him.

Bucky lands a punch to Petrov's jaw as you're running past them, only slowing down enough to not trip over the guard’s dead bodies that are littered across the dock.

You're only a few yards away from the ship when you hear Bucky screech your name. You immediately come to a halt, turning back to see why he could be calling for you.

You see a tall, burly man - someone that you and Bucky hadn't noticed before - sprinting down the dock after you. He raises his arm above his head, his hand holding a rocklike object that he sends barreling in your direction.

It's the last thing you see before everything fades to black.

••••••

The shrill, repetitive beeping of a monitor pulls you out of limbo and back to earth.

You're met with painfully bright, fluorescent lighting that has you squinting your eyes shut before you can make sense of your surroundings.

“Bucky,” you attempt to call out but it sounds like the croak of a lifelong smoker. Your eyes begin to adjust to the harsh lighting, allowing you to see that you're alone in a hospital room. You raise your fingertips to where it feels as if your brain is pulsing through your skull. There's a thick, defined knot on the top of your head that's sensitive to the touch.

Panic starts to take over you. Bits and pieces of the mission start to flash through your mind. Bucky shooting the guards, you running towards the feeder ship when you heard Bucky yell your name and then turning to see –

“Bucky!” You call out louder, your voice still hoarse. You sit up, not hesitating to carelessly yank an IV out of your arm. You're vaguely aware of the fact that you're in only a hospital gown and that blood is now trickling down your left arm, but you don't care.

You throw your legs over the side of the bed, standing up far too quickly. Your vision fades to a fuzzy gray and you're overcome with an intense wave of vertigo as the room spins around you. You grab onto the metal side railing of the hospital bed to keep yourself upright, desperately trying to focus your eyes enough to find the nurse's call button.

“Hi! I'll be to your room in just a moment–” An overly cheerful, feminine voice pours from the speaker a moment after pressing the button.

“What happened? How long have I been here? Where is my–”

The door to your room opens, and you immediately breathe an audible sigh of relief as your last question is answered. He looks as though he could use a good night's sleep, but he is okay.

“What the fuck happened?” Bucky exclaims as he rushes over to where you're still clutching the hospital bed railing for support. You follow his gaze to your arm, seeing that there's now blood all over your gown as well as the white floor around your feet.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you mumble, embarrassed by your current state. He guides you back to the edge of the mattress before walking away to get a towel from the bathroom. “I was worried something happened to you,” you add weakly.

He wipes the blood trail on your skin before using the hand towel to apply pressure to the puncture in the bend of your arm.

“I'm okay,” he assures you delicately. “I had just gone to get some coffee.” He glances at the styrofoam to-go cup that you hadn't even noticed him place on the bedside table when he entered the room.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask, noticing that it's still pitch dark outside. You also notice that he's no longer in the clothes that he wore on the mission - now wearing a pair of loose fitting black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. “What happened?”

“There was another guy in the back of Petrov’s van,” Bucky tenses, still holding the towel to your arm for you. “We were both distracted and he snuck up on you. He hit you over the head with a piece of vibranium and threw you into the water.” His jaw clenches as he recounts what happened, meeting your gaze with a pained look.

“But you saved me,” you finish for him.

“Yes,” he gulps. “I did. But I was almost too late. By the time I knocked out Petrov and killed the man who hit you.. it felt like it took forever to find you in the water. You almost drown–”

He cuts himself off, unable to force the last word out. A nurse enters the room as you open your mouth to offer him reassurance. Bucky holds your gaze for a split-second longer before reluctantly dropping his hold on your arm and turning to take a seat in the room's singular guest chair.

The nurse informs you that they did a CT scan while you were unconscious, and that while you don't have any swelling or bleeding on your brain from the blow, the doctor believes you to have a concussion and tells you that she will need to do an exam now that you are awake before they feel comfortable discharging you.

Judging by the high-pitched ringing that you've heard in your ears since you woke up and the way that you feel dizzy when you even think about trying to stand up, you don't doubt that you're concussed.

An hour later, you've been thoroughly examined and it is confirmed that yes - you are indeed concussed. The doctor discharges you under the condition that you don't drive and that someone keeps a close eye on you for the next twenty-four hours.

“Don't worry,” you hear Bucky tell her when you step into the bathroom to throw on a pair of dry sweatpants, a t-shirt, and cheap shower slides that the hospital had given you to wear back to the hotel, seeing as how your tactical suit and boots are still sopping wet with ocean water. “I'm not letting her out of my sight.”

The nurse who helps you dress gives you a small smirk at his words.

“You're a lucky woman,” she tells you quietly. “He was worried sick until you woke up.”

You avoid her gaze, your cheeks heating. You busy yourself by tightening the drawstrings to the gray sweatpants.

“I am lucky,” you agree. “He's a great partner.”

She raises an eyebrow at the word partner, but doesn't make any further comment.

By the time that you and Bucky make it back to your hotel room, the sun has started to rise.

Bucky all but carries you inside, only letting go of you when you're perched on the edge of the mattress. Your head is still throbbing despite the extra strength ibuprofen that you'd taken before leaving the hospital, and you still can't walk without stumbling from dizziness, but at least the intense ringing in your ears has begun to subside.

You feel tired down to your very bones, but you have no doubt that Bucky is even more exhausted. You'd been unconscious for nearly eight hours during the night, whereas he had been awake the entire time sitting by your bedside.

“You get some rest,” you tell him. You brace your hands against the mattress, preparing to attempt to stand back up. “I smell like a mixture of sweat and fish from being in the ocean, so I'm going to shower off.”

You push yourself off of the bed, and as quickly as you stand, you're sitting back down. The room immediately begins spinning in circles around you, sending a wave of nausea through the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, not likely,” Bucky huffs lightly. “You can't stand up, and the shower doesn't have a seat. How about we compromise on a bath?”

You give a weak nod, too tired to protest. A warm bath sounds incredible right now.

Bucky retreats to the bathroom, where he turns on the water to fill the tub before returning to help you get up from the bed without toppling over. He secures his flesh arm around your waist and guides you to the closed toilet, where you carefully sit down.

“Do you.. need help undressing? Or..?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you breathe with an awkward laugh. “I think I've got it.”

He gives you a quick nod, looking away to give you the privacy to shed your clothes. You carefully tug the oversized t-shirt the hospital had given you over your head, wincing when it brushes against the swollen knot on the side of your scalp. You rise off the lid of the toilet just enough to push your sweatpants down to your ankles.

“Okay,” you murmur, letting him know that you're ready to step into the tub.

He grabs one of your hands in his, and places his metal hand on the small of your back as you step over the side of the large jacuzzi tub and into the water.

You're aware of the intimacy of the scenario, but you can't find it in yourself to feel insecure or embarrassed right now - you're sure that's largely due to the concussion, but you think it's also simply because of who you're with.

If it were Sam, or Steve, or anyone else, you know you'd be mortified to be utterly exposed as they help you take a bath. If it were anyone else you wouldn't be taking a bath right now - you would have just gone to sleep and waited until you could fully do it yourself instead of putting yourself in such a vulnerable position.

Not that you don't trust your other teammates. But with Bucky, it doesn't feel vulnerable.

He lowers you into the water, your entire body instantly relaxing at the warmth. You glance to his face, noticing a faint purple bruise along his cheekbone.

“I'm going to leave the door cracked. I'll be right outside if you need anything. Just let me know when you're ready to get out, okay?”

You don't respond, instead reaching up to his face, where you run your finger along the outline of the bruise. He freezes beneath your touch, his eyes meeting yours.

“Don't worry,” he assures you softly. “It was a lot worse when it first happened. It's already almost gone.”

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “It happened because of me. I wasn't paying attention as well as I should have been. Should have heard that guy coming.”

“Don't say that.” He places his flesh hand on top of where yours still rests against his cheek and then brings it in front of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. “You're okay, and that's the only thing that matters now.”

“Mmm,” you hum, staring at his lips that are no more than an inch away from your hand.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice patient and curious.

You hesitate for a brief moment before leaning forward and pressing your lips to the bruise in a featherlight kiss. You pull back, once more resting your back against the tub and giving him a small shrug.

“Just thinking that I wanted to do that. Have for a while.”

He grins, a faint blush taking over the apples of his cheeks.

“Yeah, I'd say you're definitely concussed.”

You chuckle, your smile matching his. “I am,” you agree. “But the concussion will go away soon, and I'll still want to kiss you then, too.”

He then presses his lips to the side of your hand, causing goosebumps to form across your skin despite the warm water that you sit in.

“I hope that you will do just that.”

••••••

One month later

You wake up to the smell of campfire smoke that creeps through the crack in the partially zipped tent.

Despite a thick sleeping bag, multiple blankets, and the plush sweater that you wear, you can't help but shiver.

Something is missing.

You look around the tent, your eyes adjusting to the early morning daylight that filters into the tent.

Someone is missing.

You reluctantly exit your cozy sleeping bag, shoving your wool sock covered feet into your boots and crawling out of the tent.

Bucky is facing away from you, cracking an egg into a pan that is positioned over the fire.

“Good morning,” you murmur as you creep up behind him, wrapping an arm around his midsection. He wraps his own arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he teases softly. “What's on the agenda today?”

“Maybe some hiking, maybe some biking,” you shrug into him. “Maybe a little bit of you keeping me warm in that tent.”

He laughs, more carefree than you've ever seen him before.

“See? It's a good thing that your trip got postponed. What if I wasn't here to keep you warm?”

You raise up to capture his lips in yours, the taste of fresh brewed French press coffee on his breath.

“Remind me to thank Fury for that when we get back.”

thank you so much for reading 💕🫶🏻 comments and reblogs are infinitely appreciated!!

[casuallyanidiot]

I actually need a part two to Yandere sugar daddy or I will die

Yandere sugar daddy who loves to spoil his baby.

MDNI!

Tw. Yandere, power imbalance, isolation, captivity, NSFW themes

What do you want honey? A new pair of pretty shoes? A designer bag? A car that costs more than your left leg? He'll give it to you with a snap of his fingers.

Yandere sugar daddy who loves becoming your main source of income. You shouldn't have to trouble yourself with anything hard like boring paperwork or stupid board meetings. That's for him to worry about. No, the only thing you should be concerned about is spreading your legs and murmuring understanding words when he comes home from a stressful day at work.

And sure, you've been kind of whiny and bratty ever since he started to limit the time you spent outside, but can you blame him? Yandere sugar daddy hates even thinking about you wandering through the big scary world without him there to guide and protect you. You're supposed to be his responsibility, so don't go thinking you can just run around without his explicit permission.

Yandere sugar daddy who likes to hide little gifts for you around the penthouse. It's like a little game. He likes sending you messages randomly throughout the day. Go check the third drawer in the study. It's a good way to make sure you haven't snuck out on him, but he also just loves it when he finds you with a new pretty gem settled on the column of your throat.

Yandere Sugar daddy who takes you on crazy, all expenses paid for vacations to tropical islands, different cities, and dream destinations. You'll have the best hotels, best views, best wardrobe as long as you sit pretty and snuggled up to him while you're flying first class.

Yandere Sugar daddy who shuts down any kind of arguments you might have about silly things like 'Why can't I see my friends' or 'Where is my passport and my credit card?' He just hands you stacks of cash or his own cards and tells you to go wild. Don't worry about all of that. Just go to the shopping outlet with the security guards he hired to keep an eye on you and have lot's and lot's of fun spending his money.

Yandere Sugar daddy who finds a way to blacklist you from the industry you used to work in. No one in their right mind will give you a job even if you wanted one (Not that he intends to even let you think about living life away from him). He's never, ever going to let you have even the slightest chance of being independent.

Though, he's sure that he'll feel much better when he can finally slip a ring on your finger and make this little arrangement more official.

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)

word count: 3.5k

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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 

Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 

Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 

Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 

The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 

You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 

“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 

There it was. The truth. 

Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 

Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 

Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 

You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.

 It was a guard. 

So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 

He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 

“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 

Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 

You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 

You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 

Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 

With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 

“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 

Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 

And so they did. 

The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 

 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 

This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 

Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 

But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 

“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 

He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 

Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 

He had to pay for what he did to you. 

And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 

The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 

The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 

“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 

His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 

And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 

Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 

You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 

Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 

The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 

You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 

“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 

Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 

The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 

Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 

“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 

You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 

Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 

“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 

Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 

“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 

“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 

You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 

“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 

You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 

“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 

Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 

“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 

“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 

You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 

“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 

Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 

“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 

He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 

You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 

“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 

You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 

You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 

“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 

Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 

“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 

“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 

You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 

“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 

“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 

“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 

“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 

You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 

You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 

One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 

Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

You should be using an RSS reader

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

No matter how hard we all wish it were otherwise, the sad fact is that there aren't really individual solutions to systemic problems. For example: your personal diligence in recycling will have no meaningful impact on the climate emergency.

I get it. People write to me all the time, they say, "What can I change about my life to fight enshittification, or, at the very least, to reduce the amount of enshittification that I, personally, experience?"

It's frustrating, but my general answer is, "Join a movement. Get involved with a union, with EFF, with the FSF. Tell your Congressional candidate to defend Lina Khan from billionaire Dem donors who want her fired. Do something systemic."

There's very little you can do as a consumer. You're not going to shop your way out of monopoly capitalism. Now that Amazon has destroyed most of the brick-and-mortar and digital stores out of business, boycotting Amazon often just means doing without. The collective action problem of leaving Twitter or Facebook is so insurmountable that you end up stuck there, with a bunch of people you love and rely on, who all love each other, all hate the platform, but can't agree on a day and time to leave or a destination to leave for and so end up stuck there.

I've been experiencing some challenging stuff in my personal life lately and yesterday, I just found myself unable to deal with my usual podcast fare so I tuned into the videos from the very last XOXO, in search of uplifting fare:

https://www.youtube.com/@xoxofest

I found it. Talks by Dan Olson, Cabel Sasser, Ed Yong and many others, especially Molly White:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTaeVVAvk-c

Molly's talk was so, so good, but when I got to her call to action, I found myself pulling a bit of a face:

But the platforms do not exist without the people, and there are a lot more of us than there are of them. The platforms have installed themselves in a position of power, but they are also vulnerable…

Are the platforms really that vulnerable? The collective action problem is so hard, the switching costs are so high – maybe the fact that "there's a lot more of us than there are of them" is a bug, not a feature. The more of us there are, the thornier our collective action problem and the higher the switching costs, after all.

And then I had a realization: the conduit through which I experience Molly's excellent work is totally enshittification-proof, and the more I use it, the easier it is for everyone to be less enshittified.

This conduit is anti-lock-in, it works for nearly the whole internet. It is surveillance-resistant, far more accessible than the web or any mobile app interface. It is my secret super-power.

It's RSS.

RSS (one of those ancient internet acronyms with multiple definitions, including, but not limited to, "Really Simple Syndication") is an invisible, automatic way for internet-connected systems to public "feeds." For example, rather than reloading the Wired homepage every day and trying to figure out which stories are new (their layout makes this very hard to do!), you can just sign up for Wired's RSS feed, and use an RSS reader to monitor the site and preview new stories the moment they're published. Wired pushes about 600 words from each article into that feed, stripped of the usual stuff that makes Wired nearly impossible to read: no 20-second delay subscription pop-up, text in a font and size of your choosing. You can follow Wired's feed without any cookies, and Wired gets no information about which of its stories you read. Wired doesn't even get to know that you're monitoring its feed.

I don't mean to pick on Wired here. This goes for every news source I follow – from CNN to the New York Times. But RSS isn't just good for the news! It's good for everything. Your friends' blogs? Every blogging platform emits an RSS feed by default. You can follow every one of them in your reader.

Not just blogs. Do you follow a bunch of substackers or other newsletters? They've all got RSS feeds. You can read those newsletters without ever registering in the analytics of the platforms that host them. The text shows up in black and white (not the sadistic, 8-point, 80% grey-on-white type these things all default to). It is always delivered, without any risk of your email provider misclassifying an update as spam:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/

Did you know that, by default, your email sends information to mailing list platforms about your reading activity? The platform gets to know if you opened the message, and often how far along you've read in it. On top of that, they get all the private information your browser or app leaks about you, including your location. This is unbelievably gross, and you get to bypass all of it, just by reading in RSS.

Are your friends too pithy for a newsletter, preferring to quip on social media? Unfortunately, it's pretty hard to get an RSS feed from Insta/FB/Twitter, but all those new ones that have popped up? They all have feeds. You can follow any Mastodon account (which means you can follow any Threads account) via RSS. Same for Bluesky. That also goes for older platforms, like Tumblr and Medium. There's RSS for Hacker News, and there's a sub-feed for the comments on every story. You can get RSS feeds for the Fedex, UPS and USPS parcels you're awaiting, too.

Your local politician's website probably has an RSS feed. Ditto your state and national reps. There's an RSS feed for each federal agency (the FCC has a great blog!).

Your RSS reader lets you put all these feeds into folders if you want. You can even create automatic folders, based on keywords, or even things like "infrequently updated sites" (I follow a bunch of people via RSS who only update a couple times per year – cough, Danny O'Brien, cough – and never miss a post).

Your RSS reader doesn't (necessarily) have an algorithm. By default, you'll get everything as it appears, in reverse-chronological order.

Does that remind you of anything? Right: this is how social media used to work, before it was enshittified. You can single-handedly disenshittify your experience of virtually the entire web, just by switching to RSS, traveling back in time to the days when Facebook and Twitter were more interested in showing you the things you asked to see, rather than the ads and boosted content someone else would pay to cram into your eyeballs.

Now, you sign up to so many feeds that you're feeling overwhelmed and you want an algorithm to prioritize posts – or recommend content. Lots of RSS readers have some kind of algorithm and recommendation system (I use News, which offers both, though I don't use them – I like the glorious higgeldy-piggeldy of the undifferentiated firehose feed).

But you control the algorithm, you control the recommendations. And if a new RSS reader pops up with an algorithm you're dying to try, you can export all the feeds you follow with a single click, which will generate an OPML file. Then, with one click, you can import that OPML file into any other RSS reader in existence and all your feeds will be seamlessly migrated there. You can delete your old account, or you can even use different readers for different purposes.

You can access RSS in a browser or in an app on your phone (most RSS readers have an app), and they'll sync up, so a story you mark to read later on your phone will be waiting for you the next time you load up your reader in a browser tab, and you won't see the same stories twice (unless you want to, in which case you can mark them as unread).

RSS basically works like social media should work. Using RSS is a chance to visit a utopian future in which the platforms have no power, and all power is vested in publishers, who get to decide what to publish, and in readers, who have total control over what they read and how, without leaking any personal information through the simple act of reading.

And here's the best part: every time you use RSS, you bring that world closer into being! The collective action problem that the publishers and friends and politicians and businesses you care about is caused by the fact that everyone they want to reach is on a platform, so if they leave the platform, they'll lose that community. But the more people who use RSS to follow them, the less they'll depend on the platform.

Unlike those largely useless, performative boycotts of widely used platforms, switching to RSS doesn't require that you give anything up. Not only does switching to RSS let you continue to follow all the newsletters, webpages and social media accounts you're following now, it makes doing so better: more private, more accessible, and less enshittified.

Switching to RSS lets you experience just the good parts of the enshitternet, but that experience is delivered in manner that the new, good internet we're all dying for.

My own newsletter is delivered in fulltext via RSS. If you're reading this as a Mastodon or Twitter thread, on Tumblr or on Medium, or via email, you can get it by RSS instead:

https://pluralistic.net/feed/

Don't worry about which RSS reader you start with. It literally doesn't matter. Remember, you can switch readers with two clicks and take all the feeds you've subscribed to with you! If you want a recommendation, I have nothing but praise for Newsblur, which I've been paying $2/month for since 2011 (!):

https://newsblur.com/

Subscribing to feeds is super-easy, too: the links for RSS feeds are invisibly embedded in web-pages. Just paste the URL of a web-page into your RSS reader's "add feed" box and it'll automagically figure out where the feed lives and add it to your subscriptions.

It's still true that the new, good internet will require a movement to overcome the collective action problems and the legal barriers to disenshittifying things. Almost nothing you do as an individual is going to make a difference.

But using RSS will! Using RSS to follow the stuff that matters to you will have an immediate, profoundly beneficial impact on your own digital life – and it will appreciably, irreversibly nudge the whole internet towards a better state.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise

[criminalamnesia]

simon’s been having dreams since you left.

horrendous, sickeningly sweet dreams, all of you. it’s always you. reminding him of something he’s not sure he ever really had— something like a mirage, there one minute and gone the next.

but you’d been gone for a while, really. since you’d woken up in that infirmary bed, hatred and terror in your eyes every time you looked at him.

perhaps it’s been longer than— probably since they had you in that damn chair. maybe even before, when whispers of a traitor slipped into their minds and dug its claws in. all signs pointing to you.

most of the dreams start like this:

he wakes to the sound of birdsong. sweet little chirps that sound just outside the window you insist be left open during the springtime.

he’d conceded, not daring to tell you no. it was always yes with you, which surprised him. yes, nonetheless.

he gives a soft groan as his eyes begin to crack open. you’re curled into him, your head resting atop his inked arm. the limb is completely numb, but he doesn’t dare to move it. he’s content to lay here and watch you, because this is when he feels he truly has you.

(but it’s a dream, he realizes when he wakes. and he thinks he never really had you— a destination he desired but never reached. he doesn’t have you anymore, and he never will again.)

the fragrant smell of your favorite flowers, which fill the flower beds surrounding the little blue cottage, wafts in through the window. vibrant pinks and yellows that came after days of hard labor— simon planting each little seed and tending to it until it blossomed. he refused to let you help. said it was his gift to you.

a token of his love.

(even though you’ve long since gone from the little blue cottage, he still labors over those flowers every growing season. a gift to you, that you’d never see the longevity of. that you’d never known was a labor of love.)

(he hated that the first time you’d laid eyes on the cottage, he hadn’t been with you. that you’d been forced to go there— that they (he) had forced you out.)

you curl deeper into his side, your hair tickling his arm. he watches you sleep, your eyelids fluttering as you dream. he can tell it’s a good one by the way your nose twitches and a grin spreads across your lips.

(too often, he wakes to your screams of terror. the screams you had loosed under his tortuous hand. no longer are the nightmares that plague you ones of the perils of your job. now, they’re memories of what he’s done.)

(he wonders if you still wake up screaming. he wonders if you wish he was there to calm you back to sleep, like he’d done countless times before.)

(he wonders if he is what you see in your nightmares now.)

he shifts his body slightly. you stir, eyes still tightly shut as sunlight beams through the airy sage green curtains. again, he couldn’t say no to you.

especially when you had given him the reason behind them. “I want to spend every minute together. just us. every moment out of service, I want.”

it was always yes with you.

“good morning, si,” you grumble, voice still thick from sleep.

“did I wake you?” he whispers, lips pressing to the hair atop your head.

“birdsong outside did,” you reply, a yawn splitting your mouth wide. his free hand finds your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“told ya we should shut the window, love.”

it’s here when things start to differ.

in the good dreams, you look up at him with a grin. the pair of you spend the next hour in bed, drifting in and out of sleep and whispering mundane thoughts to each other. him holding you tightly, swearing he can feel your warmth next to him even when he inevitably wakes.

the bad dreams are more common.

when you look up at him, he sees one of two faces. the first face looks at him with the same expression you’d had back in price’s office, before you had slammed a fist into his jaw.

it’s heartbroken and it’s tired. it’s hateful and scared and ashamed.

(he still thinks it’s beautiful.)

the second face is battered and beaten and bruised. it’s the face you’d worn when in the chair, tortured by his hand. swollen and discolored. bloody. broken.

but most of all, it’s betrayed.

and that jolts him awake. but he doesn’t mind the bad dreams. doesn’t mind any dreams, now.

because they’re always about you. about his greatest failure, his greatest love. he sleeps so he can see you because it’s all he gets now.

he doesn’t know where you went after the cottage, none of them do. you wanted it that way. he wouldn’t dare seek you out. he owed you that much.

so he sleeps.

and he dreams of you.

here’s a little drabble about simon after reader leaves at the end of traitor. definitely inspired by ‘sailor song’. hope you all enjoy :)

p.s. I hate tumblr bc I had written this and tried to save it and the app crashed. so this is my poor attempt of recreating a work I was proud of :(

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Religious Fanatic

She's convinced that God chose you to be her partner. The fact that you disagree is irrelevant.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who rises through the ecclesiastical ranks like God truly is on her side. Hers is the holy cause, the righteous one. If heretics have to burn at the stake to cleanse the masses, then so be it. She'll carry the torch.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who gives sermons like hellfire and brimstone are staining her tongue. Who moves people, convinces them to join her congregation through sheer fervour. Whose influence grows everyday.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who fits into so many times and places. She could be a Roman priestess or oracle. She could be a holy knight during the middle ages. She could be an outspoken and powerful vizier in the Ottoman court.

Regardless, your story and hers both play out the same. Time can't change what God and heaven have ordained.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who meets you entirely by accident. She's on a street corner, preaching to a crowd that grows every minute.

And then there's you. At the very back, eyes narrowed.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who meets your gaze - you alone, out of the surging dozens. She directs it all at you. The love religion can bring, the fulfillment. The way your life will never lack meaning. The way you'll never go hungry again, if you have faith to sustain you. She pours her heart out.

And you just walk away.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who isn't sure how to react. She's been hated, she's been scorned. But such terrible apathy? You don't want to be saved, you don't want anything at all.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who tries to let it go. You can't save everyone. Not all hearts are open to the truth. But she doesn't quite manage it. She kneels before her God and thinks of you. The sun slanting across your cheeks, the bruised hollows under your eyes. You're tired. You're beaten down and chewed up.

You need succor. You need rest.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who can give it to you. Who wants to give it to you.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who finds you again by chance. In the worst part of the city, handing out bread to the poor and needy. It puzzles her. You have no love for God or prayer, no belief in heaven or divine punishment. So why do you still go out of your way to serve the destitute?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who strikes up a conversation with you. There are a dozen others who want her attention - advice, blessings, all of her charity. But once again, she only has eyes for you.

You're reserved but polite. Not denying her attempts to convert you, but not encouraging them either. You're not taken in by her charisma. It should be frustrating, but she finds it intriguing instead. You're an anomaly. A test.

She's destined to save you, she knows it.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who asks a few of her closest followers to keep an eye on you.

"I feel heaven working strangely."

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who listens carefully to every report they bring back. Who your family is, who you socialise with, how you spend your days.

At first, she's just trying to puzzle you out. Why do you feel so special? What is her role in your life?

But the more she learns, the more sure she feels. You're her perfect counterpoint. Logical and balanced where she's passionate. Calm where she's excitable. Observant where she's not.

If heaven guides her, then surely you're heaven sent?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who can't help but feel frustrated at not being able to get closer to you. Any attempts to talk about God and heaven are met with a polite dismissal. Any attempts to spend time with you are interrupted by her followers or her duties. For now, she tries to be content with what little she has.

She'll love you from a distance, for however long it takes.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic whose political power grows as her influence does. Who in time comes to sit on the political council of your city, who comes to have the ruler's ear. What governor would dare turn away someone with such a large following?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who dreams every night of the city on fire, and you, at the centre of it all. A prophecy? A warning?

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who slowly starts replacing the elected officials with her own followers. How else can she cleanse the city? The government must itself be pure if the citizens are to be as well.

It makes people uncomfortable. There's whispers of her replacing the ruler soon, of her being the next to sit the throne. But whispers are all people feel comfortable with. She has so many followers now, that it's hard to be sure who can keep a secret and who can't.

The last straw is when the ruler gives her power to form her own squadron of peackeepers. They don't only arrest the criminals, but the sinners too. Money lenders. Prostitutes. Gamblers.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who isn't at all surprised to see you standing before the Senate soon after.

"This isn't lawful or just," you say to the assembled politicians and priests. "This city is home to half a dozen gods, three dozen different beliefs. How can one reign supreme over us all?"

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who's honestly pleased to hear you speak. She was right. Everything about is calm, controlled.

When she stands to offer a rebuttal, the entire room quiets to hear her. Her voice is filled with a half veiled intensity. She's all passion where you were quiet logic.

"Heaven's light falls on us all equally. Heaven's love is for us all to feel. Why then, should we have different laws for different people?"

"We shouldn't. We shouldn't have religious laws at all."

That makes her laugh.

"Oh lamb, how else will the law be just if not guided by God?"

There are politicians and senators who disagree with her. Who fear her. But when the vote is passed, they don't abstain. It would be career suicide to go against her.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who hears the discontentment from the disbelievers and it only encourages her. If the sinners object, then surely she must be doing something right.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic whose ranks swell with converts. Some see the light, but most only do it out of fear. They don't want to be stopped by the peacekeepers. Don't want their businesses scrutinised too closely. A storm is brewing and they want the shelter she offers.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who starts to see a whole lot more of you. Talking to senators, to the people. You don't have her obvious charisma, but there's something about you that makes people listen. A sense of certainty, perhaps.

Whatever it is, you start to gather your own supporters. People who believe the city should be ruled by the laws of Man and not God.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who's there the night the ruler dies. One of the few in the room, one of the first to know. She prays over his body and his eyes are scarcely closed before she's taking charge.

And her very first order? Find and arrest you. You're the face of the resistance. Without you, will the others still be brave enough to stand against her?

When her guards find you, you're in the middle of a meeting with your comrades. It turns into a bloodbath to get you.

At first, she's displeased. When you're brought to her, you're bleeding from a dozen different cuts and your lip is split.

"What is this?" you demand, as though you aren't being held in chains.

"The ruler is dead," she says simply. "I want to ensure a peaceful transition of power."

That makes you laugh. "He's scarcely started to cool and already there's blood on the streets. Tell me, is that the peace you wanted?"

She keeps you locked away. Even when your followers come to demand your release, even when the senators start to whisper that she's going mad.

It could go one of two ways. The people revolt or they don't.

Even you're starting to believe she must be lucky, because after she declares that any rebel activity will be punished by executing you, the last few members of the opposition give up. Surrender and watch their city become a theocracy. They've all seen the way she looks at you. If she's willing to put your head at an executioner's mercy, what will she do to her enemies?

After she has you, she stops dreaming of fire.

Yandere! Religious Fanatic who tells herself she keeps you because it ensures obedience. And perhaps that's true on some level.

But the real reason she keeps you locked away? It's because she loves you. Loves bringing you your meals and talking to you. Loves the way your mind works. Loves the determination that never wanes.

You're not the same as you were, you're harder now, resentful. But that's fine. She has all the time in the world to win you over.

Heaven and fate themselves chose you as hers. Who are you to to go against them?

[linaslivery]

౨ৎ FOOLISH ONE ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Love sucks. Men suck. Even worse? Your “date” stood up up. To cheer you up, your friend invites you to a F1 race to cheer on her boyfriend and meet some new people. Not your thing. But a new face gives you hope.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ men sucking ass and being assholes (lando not included), spelling mistakes

A/N ౨ৎ i’ve been holding back this fic longer than i should have 🥴 enjoy!!

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n has posted 3 new stories!

201 people replied to your stories!

user1 DONT TELL ME WHAT I THINK HAPPENED HAPPENED :((

user2 all she wants is love bro 😞

user3 being stood up for the 3rd time is so tough. i’m so sorry lovely ❤️‍🩹

lilyzneimer my baby :(( text the gc if you want to talk 🩷

→ y/n_l/n i will in a bit i just need to recollect myself 🥹

oscarpiastri who needs to be run over. name and address.

→ y/n_l/n oscahhhh 😭😭

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

📍 Sunshine State

y/n_l/n going on a trip 🌺🌴☀️🐬

1,498 comments

user1 i hope you have a wonderful trip especially after what happened :(

user2 girl you deserve this trip after the cheating ex-bf and 3 ghosters

user3 I NEED TO KNOW WHERE TO 😩😩

→ y/n_l/n that’s a secret 🤫

user4 you deserve this so much. men suck ass

→ y/n_l/n MEN SUCK ASS 🗣️ 🔥 !!!

oscarpiastri something tells me i’m going to regret this

→ user5 WHAT DO YOU KNOW OSCAR

→ user6 i’m telling you guys it’s a gp

→ user7 gp??? you guys know she hates them and she said it plenty times before 😭😭

→ user8 you never know.. 😋

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri has posted a story 12 minutes ago!

562 people replied to your stories!

user8 HELLO DID YOU AND LILY LOSE Y/N??? 😭😭

user9 STOP NO WONDER SHE LOOKED SO LOST IN OTHER PEOPLE’S TWEETS😭

lilyzneimer oscar, y/n is actually going to kill us. why did she even leave the garage?!

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ she needed to use the bathroom but i sorta forgot her directions aren’t… the best. → lilyzneimer she’s never coming back to a gp ever again. → oscarpiastri ✔︎ yeah. i wouldn’t be surprised.

landonorris ✔︎ i think i have who you’re looking for..

y/n_l/n OSCAR JACK PIASTRI OPEN YOUR MESSAGES RN A GUY GAVE ME HIS NUMBER

oscarpiastri ✔︎ why am i scared…

IMESSAGES

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y/n_l/n and oscarpiastri have posted new stories!

738 people replied to your story! 849 people replied to your story!

user10 “who is this man” GIRL THATS LANDO NORRIS 💀💀

→ y/n_l/n lando who now

→ user10 your..? your best friends team mate..?

user11 NOT LANDO TRYING TO FLIRT WITH HER WHILE OSCAR IS TRYING TO FIND HER

user12 why do lando and y/n look like they got caught doing something they aren’t supposed to do 😭

user13 the lando y/n meeting wasn’t expected but now? it’s a need.

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris ✔︎

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆

5,493 comments

user14 HE DID IT!!

→ user15 IT TOOK A COUPLE YEARS BUT HE DID IT!!!

user16 sochi??? what’s sochi??? i only know miami!!

oscarpiastri ✔︎ well done man 👏👏👏

lewishamilton ✔︎ WELL DONE

y/n_l/n y’know… f1 races aren’t so bad

*♥️ by Author !!*

→ landonorris ✔︎ it’s better with you here. i mean, i did win the one race you’re here 😏

→ user17 lando making the moves??

→ user18 the second hand embarrassment because she didn’t reply back after that 😭😭

oscarpiastri ✔︎ @ landonorris making moves on one of my best friends??

→ landonorris ✔︎ why not?

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ but why

→ landonorris ✔︎ why not

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ but why tho 😐

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

📍 Italia

y/n_l/n he said whoever loses pays.

tagged ; landonorris

1,250 comments

user19 LANDO-Y/N PT 2???

user20 is she there for emilia-romangna???

→ user21 I THINK SO

→ user22 the way they are fueling my delusion

user23 why are the cute together 🥴

→ user24 they can literally just be friends

→ user25 yeah and friends play chess and explore italy which is a romantic destination 💀

oscarpiastri ✔︎ sooo… did he win?

→ y/n_l/n are you kidding me? i wiped the floor with him

landonorris ✔︎ $100 down the drain 😐

→ y/n_l/n down the drain? more like down into my stomach

→ landonorris ✔︎ yeah yeah 😒

→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ don’t get pissy with me YOU are the one that insisted on going there AND paying BEFORE the chess game 🤨

→ user26 STOP THAT’S CUTE :((

user27 y/n and lando hanging out even though she hates grand prixs? this was not on my 2024 bingo card

→ user28 it def wasn’t but lord do they look good together

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris ✔︎

landonorris fun days 🌊

1,690 comments

user29 HELLO THE SECOND PHOTO???

→ user33 mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy-

user30 IT SO OBVIOUSLY HER

→ user31 her?? who’s her??

→ user32 y/n!! she’s oscar and lily’s friend and hanged out with lando not too long ago actually

→ user31 oh. but how do we know it’s her???

carlossainz55 ✔︎ little lando norris isn’t so little anymore 😆 they grow up so fast 😭

→ landonorris ✔︎ haven’t been little for the past 8 years…

→ carlossainz55 ✔︎ i don’t know the texts send say otherwise

oscarpiastri ✔︎ huh. interesting.

→ landonorris ✔︎ …😰

oscarpiastri ✔︎ @ y/n_l/n you left me and lily for him? this guy?

→ user33 OSCAR CALLING HER OUT FOR LEAVING THEM???

→ user34 classic oscar fashion 💀

→ y/n_l/n he promised me that he had something worthwhile 😕

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ i did not need to know this.

→ y/n_l/n wdym???

→ y/n_l/n OMG OSCAR

→ y/n_l/n YOU LITTLE SHIT I DIDN:T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

→ y/n_l/n LANDO SAID HE HAD THE GOOD HÄAGEN-DAZS ICE CREAM :((

→ landonorris ✔︎ and it was some very good häagen-dazs ice cream 😏

→ y/n_l/n YOU’RE NOT HELPING LAN 😭😭

→ user35 LMAOAOOA

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

320 people replied to your story!

landonorris ✔︎ dare I say.. boyfriend material?

→ y/n_l/n husband actually ☝️☝️

→ landonorris ✔︎ updates already?? barely even a month in 🥴

→ y/n_l/n what can I say? You’re the one and when you know, you know 🩷

IMESSAGES

TWITTER

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

landonorris ✔︎

landonorris might have lost the race… but at least i’ve won first her heart :)) (ps: the only blonde that would separate us is if you dye yours blonde)

tagged ; y/n_l/n

3,018 comments

user36 THE CAPTION 😭😭

user37 AFTER THE DRAMA??

user38 bro said “lemme make a statement” after the accusations 😭

user39 everyone assumed so quickly as if it wasn’t obvious y/n and lando were dating

user40 i was expecting this but wasn’t at the same time

y/n_l/n ✔︎ yeah maybe second place

→ landonorris ✔︎ can i not be loving and romantic?? 😞😞

→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ just joking love you my mystical gnome 🩷

→ landonorris ✔︎ MYSTICAL GNOME???

→ user41 HELLO THATS SO RANDOM

oscarpiastri ✔︎ break her heart, and i’ll run you off the track

→ landonorris ✔︎ yes sir. won’t happen sir.

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n i think i could get used to this sorta love. 🩷

tagged ; landonorris

3.959 comments

francisca.cgomes cutie(s)

→ y/n_l/n no u 🤭

→ landonorris ✔︎ it hasn’t even been a month and you already took my girl??

→ francisca.cgomes ✔︎ you snooze you lose 🤷‍♀️

user42 THEY BOTH DID IT!!

user43 CONFIRMED I REPEAT Y/N-LANDO IS CONFIRMED!!

user44 ITS HAPPENING GUYS Y/N FINALLY GOT A BF!!

lilyzneimer thank me everyone!! im the one that convinced her to go to the grand prix!!

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ thank you lily!! (i don’t get to hear y/n’s heart breaking because of idiots)

→ user45 thank you lily!! (we all say in unison.)

user46 all it took was one miami win and one text message to convince y/n.

→ user47 booking my own miami ticket after this 👩‍💻

oscarpiastri ✔︎ okay… maybe you guys are just a bit cute

landonorris ✔︎ who’s that pretty girl and handsome man in the photos?? 🤔

→ y/n_l/n hmmm… i heard their names are y/n and lando the best couple to ever??? even though her boyfriend is a little stupid at times she still loves him 🩷

→ landonorris ✔︎ loooovveee youuuuuu

→ landonorris ✔︎ but seriously. i love you so much and i’ll never take you for granted or do any of the nasty crap you went through. you deserve the world my love ❤️

→ y/n_l/n what if i cried.

→ landonorris ✔︎ then i’ll wipe your tears.

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ aw. (im hurling)

[dashitsxx]

duty | gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary. Forced into a loveless marriage was the future of a lady of nobility. Being engaged to a man you never met was your fate. You were destined to be a doomed wife, doing the duties of pleasuring your husband solely for just simply being the daughter of a greedy and corrupt father. Yet, at the wedding night, the man you'll be wedded with, somehow shifted your perspective and unveiled what a real marriage is.

genre. angst, smut, 18+

word count. 6.2k

warnings. arranged marriage. historical au. explicit smut. toxic family. mentions of dissent. mentions of traditional gender roles and historical norms. mention of punishment (once). oral receiving (reader). multiple creampies. petnames. jealousy (if you squint). dominance (?). sadistic tendencies (gojo). missionary. cowgirl (ride that cock girl). praising (gojo). gojo calling himself daddy (....). quite naive (reader but that's okay). gojo is actually sweet.

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

notes. has been sitting on my drafts far too long here you go sluts and i'm finally back for real, university sucks ass

"You may kiss the bride."

These are the words you never once thought you'd hear at age 20. Yet these are words that will truly seal your fate as a bride of the groom—no, as a wife of a husband. You never once thought your future would turn out to be in the situation you are in. An unknown beginning that was never introduced in the dreams of your future. A door that those old hags and ogres forced you to walk into while they always say—you quote, "This is the real future of a young lady of the L/N family."

Hell to that damn future! They should have thrown you on the streets rather than trample your dignity. You'd rather be a bride of a bear than be betrothed to a man who'd used you as a breeder for heirs.

However, once the man you've never seen and known pulls the veil off your face, you'd officially be gesturing your commitment as a wife to your new husband. Well, you can break that off… but in the current world you were born in, the veil also symbolizes that a woman is willing to lose her innocence to her lifetime partner.

Oh, how you hate women including you are tied to the role of a martyr wife in a marriage.

You just prayed to the heavens that the groom you are to be wedded with was born with a godly appearance that you will probably succumb to. At least, you'll have some dignity left in you.

The delicate lace veil blurred the sight of the man who held your hand on the altar with you as he slowly lifted the bridal accessory over your head. You take in a quiet hitch of breath, which makes you close your eyes and tightly grip the bouquet of lilies of the valley in nervousness. You waited in anticipation as once you felt the cold air kissed your skin.

You slowly flutter your eyes open. Your orbs widened as your lips almost let out a gasp when you saw the groom—no, your husband. Suddenly, the world around you becomes blurred, your eyes clearly focused on the enticing beauty of the familiar man.

It was none other than the famous and most desirable bachelor, Satoru Gojo. You never expected it to be him.

The man who was revered for his breathtaking beauty, applauded for his sword-fighting skills, and desired for his mind-boggling prowess in the sheets. The things you've heard from rumors yet you never believed them.

Although, there was one thing the rumor was right about.

Once you see him, you'll be baited by his beauty entrapment. This man was one of the most pulchritudinous beings in this botched universe. His snow-white hair perfectly complemented his eyes' bright blue color, which resembled heaven and oceans. Perhaps, even the skies. A fair skin and subtle red tones that painted his cheeks and lips.

It was your first time looking at him this close.

At the moment, you'd almost forgotten you were getting married. Your cheeks began to heat up, so you forced yourself to break out of your reverie. You strayed your gaze from him, embarrassed at your dumbfoundedness.

Gojo stared at you intently as the corner of his lips twitched slightly. You were startled at the distance between the both of you, yet he leaned further towards you, making you gulp at the closing proximity between you and him.

His eyes are too enchanting for you to gape into that it took the man to try to keep his laughter. Then his deep voice cuts the silence, "Lady Y/N, I think it is time we should seal one of the parts of our promise."

You almost accidentally choked on your saliva. Oh, you should slap yourself for your impudence. You are facing the most wanted bachelor of the empire.

Get your head in reality.

Even so, you've never kissed before. You are quite afraid of learning about your inexperience in that certain field and you don't want to disappoint the expert.

And the Satoru Gojo being your first kiss was a whole new experience and sensation to you. You have no clue how kissing works, which is why you'll let him take the lead. Your cheeks reddened further as you bit your bottom lip.

"Then place your lips on mine," you spoke.

A smirk appeared on his rosy-colored lips and captured your lips in a somewhat needy kiss. He places his huge hand on your lower back and the other on your nape, pulling you to his warmth. Because of the abrupt pull, your hands accidentally came in contact with his sculpted chest (which you felt through his clothing).

What the hell?

You were about to pull away, but Gojo pulled you even closer, tightening his hold. He tilted his head, gaining more access to your mouth. You quietly whimpered at his actions.

Then, roars of small cheers and claps echoed through the whole wedding hall. Satisfaction was spread over the faces of the crowd, staring at the newly married couple.

Gojo pulled away after a few seconds, leaving a trail of burning ache over your lips. Your plush cheeks were still flushed red as you tore your gaze from him. You were too embarrassed to face him after that heated moment. You carefully reached your lips with your fingertips as you touched them lightly. You wanted to ignore the feeling about the need and delight you felt after the kiss, it was more than you… expected.

The seal is almost done.

You're married.

And you are a wife.

"Your Grace, is the water fine?" one of the maids worriedly asks as she watches your reaction. You offered her a small grin, "It is fine, dear. You may wait outside."

The maid was flustered at the term you used. Nonetheless, she lowered her head and exited the room. And you were left alone.

You released a sigh of relief as your tensed shoulders drooped down in relaxation. You leaned back on the cold marbled, giving shivers from the foreign sensation. You settled down to the fragrant water as you looked towards the ceiling.

You recalled the events that happened a while ago. Everything felt surreal—the wedding and reception. You haven't even grasped the thought that you are married. It was just like yesterday, your head was buried in piles of books.

However, what was more unbelievable was marrying the Satoru Gojo.

You recently realized that your family never revealed who you were marrying. They just busted into your room and "surprised" you with a "gift," which was the marriage, for your birthday.

You bitterly chuckled.

It evidently shows how they badly want to get rid of their only daughter. They don't even gave an ounce of sincerity or care in their actions. They didn't ask your opinion or consent to this marriage. There are countless of crimeful actions they did to you that you can name.

They are definitely a family of shameless shits. Oh, why were you unfortunate in this life? You never even asked to be the daughter of a count, much less be the wife of a duke.

Duke. Satoru Gojo. Duchess...

"The duchess of Gojo, Y/N Gojo," you mutter.

As the name rolled from your tongue it was as you expected. It does not fit well but you didn't hate it.

Suddenly, your mind wondered about your husband. Was he also in the same situation as you? Was he also forced? Or did he need a wife to fully secure his position and chose a plain lady who wouldn't give a milliliter of care about his private affairs like you?

Regardless of his reasons for marrying you, it would be better to do your duty as a duchess than a wife. There are frequent numbers of loveless marriages in your society, and they include your parents.

Perhaps the Gojo, Geto, and Kento families are an exception. Their lineages, like Marquess Kento, are well-known for prioritizing heart above mind regarding love. The story of him and his wife was one of the most gossiped subjects among young ladies and masters. He met his wife while attending the Royal Academy, where he was acclaimed for his clever intellect and anticipated to graduate in a year. However, he graduated after two and a half years just to be with his current wife.

It was surprising to learn about the story. He was a man with a cold appearance yet born with a warm heart.

But those families were fortunate in love; they weren't foolish (except the Gojo you are wedded with). You also admit that you wish to experience and find a love like theirs, but the world isn't forgiving to you. To you, who is the daughter of a corrupt and power-hungry noble.

You sighed as you raised your head before splashing the water into your body. You could not afford to waste time any longer.

The seal is not yet complete.

--------------------

You approached the bedchambers of your partner with skittish feet. Bollocks, your insides were churning in extreme anxiety. You've always heard stories from married women of how the first time will always hurt. You're an adventurous lady, but the current situation is a whole bloody hell of uncertainty.

This is not the adventure you anticipated.

The wedding night must have slipped your mind, if only your maid hadn't reminded you, you'd embarrass your husband accidentally and rumors would spread.

"Damn me," you cursed your forgetfulness.

Despite that, here you are, standing in front of the door. The calm expression on your face contradicts your shaky hands. The two maids who were steps behind you patiently waited for your signal. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves then you nod.

They hurry to open the door. It was barely lighted beyond the depths, but you didn't notice the figure waiting on the side of the bed.

You gulped silently before lifting your foot and finally, stepping inside. When you compelled your way in, the maids you were with quickly closed the door, leaving you alone in this heavy atmosphere.

You lift your head as you hitch a breath. The man—Satoru Gojo was really out of this world in any style, form, and angle he was in. He wore a high-collar shirt with three unbuttoned buttons and dark trousers that elongated his already tall physique.

As for you, the maids forced you to wear lingerie that falls below your ankle, gently hugging your body that subtly shows your curves. The straps laid on your shoulder but they kept sliding off your skin since it was a bit thinner than the usual chemise you wore. The neckline was rounded and was letting your ladies from almost peaking out, displaying your cleavage. Moreover, the material was made from satin, attracting attention due to its sheen and softness.

You couldn't believe that satin can be sewn into this design. And you didn't expect your attire to be this... revealing. But you let it pass since it is your wedding night and as much as possible, you don't want to ruin his too.

"I didn't perceive you as the type who'd have their mind above the clouds."

"Oh!" You gasped loudly as you stepped back immediately. The white-haired man appeared tall in front of you. A playful grin comes on his handsome face. "Why startled, my dear?"

My dear? Your cheeks heat up at the name. It is not that you dislike his choice of name, but it sounds nice to hear. "I w-was not. I was just... admiring."

The grin never left on his face as he arched an eyebrow, "Me?" He steps closer and bends down to your eye level. His bright blue eyes stare into yours, expecting to get a reaction from you. Almost immediately, you avoided his purposeful watch.

He is too close! Too close!

It's as if he read your mind, he straightened his back and pulled away but still held eye contact down at you. "Your choice of evening attire is... quite unanticipated," his eyes scan your body from head to toe.

He was able to take a peek at that? You wrapped your arms around your body closely, tightly pulling the robe. You frowned at his words. Does he mean the lingerie does not suit you at all? "Well, I suppose that I should change into a more mode-"

"It enhances the natural grace and allure that you possess."

Your eyes became wide. Was your hearing right or is he losing his mind?

You realized that you were flushed deeply. You tilted your head to the side and cleared your throat. You now understand why ladies are smitten with this man. His looks were the flower, and his words were like opium. It certainly meets his description in its entirety, much like a poppy flower.

Suddenly, you felt a rough yet warm skin holding onto your wrist. "Come." Without waiting for your response, Gojo gently holds your wrist and drags you to the edge of the bed. With your wrist still in his grasp, he sat down on the bed with you facing him. The expression on your face was contorted into puzzlement. Despite this, he widens his legs and pulls you in between.

You looked down at him as he made eye contact with you. Your knees almost fall to the ground. Oh, his eyes are so hypnotizing.

Then you caught a breath when he placed both his huge hands on your waist as he rubbed your sides slowly and sensually. You put your hands on his toned forearms, and your gaze slid to his arms. The veins on his arms bulged, creating a delicate pattern beneath the surface.

"Take the robe off." Gojo blurted.

You snapped your head at him in surprise. Another gulp made its way through your throat as you left the warmth of his arms to untie the belt tie of the robe. Your hands nervously pulled the tie, yet the man's gaze never faltered as he watched you with such intensity that your heart raced faster.

The robe smoothly pooled below your feet. The silence was so deafening that you thought the temperature dropped even more. The cold air of the room hits your skin, and you feel so bare in your lingerie. You shuffled on your feet uncomfortably while you attempted to cover yourself until Gojo took hold of your wrist.

"Don't." You hear the tone of authority in his voice. One word from him crumbled you into obedience, which made you dropped your arms to your side.

There was an awkward silence that bore in the room as Gojo just gaped at you.

"Oh, darling..." he sighed heavily as he shifted. You were brought even closer to him as you felt the warmth of his body. He leaned his head on your stomach, inhaling the addictive scent you were bathed in.

He roamed his hands around your body. Each roam he did, slowly tightened his hold. He grunts lowly before planting a kiss on your stomach, you bite your lower lip. Gojo continued to place kisses on your clothed stomach as he slid his hand down, grabbing the fabric upwards, and exposing your legs.

You gripped his forearms tightly, your breaths becoming labored and heavy. Shivers ran down your nerves. Gojo bunches up the material above your belly as his lips come in contact with your bare stomach once again, "Ah!" you moaned.

Then your hands gently slipped up to clasp his hair, causing him to growl. Gojo swiftly exchanged positions with you, pushing you down into the bed. He tugged your dress upwards over your chest, and you gasped loudly at his daring move.

He smirks as he touches your thighs. He then imprisons you with his body. You yelped in agony as the man, who was intently studying your reactions, opened his lips and sucked your exposed breast. Licking every area, up, down, left, and right then sucking it for a while.

"W-Wait, n-not like that..." you whimper.

The middle of Gojo's eyebrows wrinkled before switching his lips to your other nipple, sucking them languidly as he fondled your other breast in the same manner. Your back arched at the sensation.

He should not be doing these things to you—it is not his duty.

You pressed his shoulder, causing him to part his lips from your nipple, a delicate strand of saliva connecting. His expression screams craving for more, stares at your flushed face. You breathe heavily as you push yourself with your elbows.

"You should not be doing this," you shake your head. "It should be me."

He glowers, "What are you implying?" He slowly gets up. He changes his position by lifting his knees on either side of you, caging you completely. Both of his hands sink onto the fluff of the bed on either side of your head, bending down as he almost closes the distance between you and him. But he turns his head to your neck, feathering with light kisses and rough bites. You gripped his back, digging your nails in pleasure as you attempted to open your mouth to speak.

"I-I meant that — ah — my d-duty... heavens." You state, head dizzy by him. The white-haired man still continued to mark you. "I should b-be... pleasing you, not you."

Suddenly, Gojo halts as he pulls himself up. Your eyes widened, trying to ignore the throbbing marks he burned in your skin. His godlike visage had an unexplained look. If you were to characterize one thing, it would be a scowl. It's as if he was angry—no, enraged, if you will specify it. Your husband's impassive eyes met your mystified orbs. He then cocks his jaw and pushes his tongue into his cheek.

He tilts his head curiously. Then speaks in a sneering tone, "Do you really take me for a man who only cares about their own pleasure?" There was a menacing aura brewing from him. Why is he furious at such a matter that is a fact? It is your duty.

You denied his claim, "N-No! I was pertaining that I am your wife! And... th-that I shall be giving you what my husband deserves from his wife. Please, let me do it. I promise!"

But he stayed quiet instead there was this "the calm before storm" silence extruding from his stare, what was he bothered about?

However, you continue with your words. "I assure you that you do not need to force yourself to do the duties of a husband," you reassured him. "Since this is not real." You add.

Your husband remained silent as a collective sigh passed across his lips. Then he ran his fingers through his hair while his other hand began to unbutton his dress shirt and asked, "What's not real?"

Your gaze moves down to his body, his firm chest peeking from the shirt. Oh, how'd you want your touch on it.

You shake your thoughts clouding your judgment. Now is not the time to be drooling...

You swallow anxiously, "... the marriage."

Then, you felt the presence of dead stillness in the room. Gojo halts his actions, a look of passing emotions crossed his features. Tensed shoulders and tiny droplets of sweat appeared on your forehead; your husband's silence was frightening. His shirt was already gone from his body.

Suddenly, your garments were ripped from your body. You gasped loudly as you gazed down at yourself, and your mouth fell.

Now you're nude... bare, naked!

"Gojo!" you exclaimed. His eyes twitched as you shouted his name, but he did not speak, instead, he scowled again at you. And you could feel the blazing fury that was seething in his veins. "Gojo!" You attempted to get his attention agaim.

But he was ignoring you. Once again, Gojo stoops down to plant hot and open-mouth kisses on your jaw. You winced as you felt a delicious pain as he stroked your bare breasts, with his other hand holding your wrists above your head.

"We are both aware that we hardly know much about each other." He begins talking as he softly drags his lips over your flushed cheeks. You felt his hot breath brushing across your ear, tickling you. "Whether it's an arranged marriage or not, I intend to be a good, if not, a great husband to you, darling," he whispers in a low and intimidating tone.

It was like a switch, you didn't manage to prepare yourself as he seized your lips in a bruising kiss. You gave out a moan and he thrusted his tongue into your mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pinning both of your wrists above your head. He devoured the taste of your mouth, moaning against it.

The tension of his kiss was similar to the one he gave you at the altar, however, this was more needy, hungry, and possessive reaction. He twisted your nipples as you whined in pain. He finally parted his lips from yours. Your chest was moving up and down heavily as you saw him gently glide down, his other hand on your wrists gradually losing its grasp.

Your body was beginning to feel hot.

He peppered kisses all over your body till he stopped in between your legs. His hot breath brushed across your clothed cunt, and he made markings on your inner thighs. His gorgeous eyes glance up at you, "So... if you ever speak of that nonsense again. I assure you that your punishment won't be taken lightly."

He places a light kiss on you cunt, which made you whimper upon contact. You gripped the sheets gently when you felt a finger slide around your clothed slit. He played your covered pussy as you felt it dampening your panty.

Until he pushes your underwear to the side, a smirk coming to his face. You took a sharp inhale as you felt cooling air around your bare cunt, panicking internally. He shouldn't do these actions, it is such dishonarable act for a nobleman! You try to move away from him discreetly, yet the man notices your futile attempt as he braces your thighs even more.

He glowers, "Whether it is of convenience or not, doesn't mean we can't make it real."

Finally, he latches his mouth on your slit, licking up a stripe. A strangled moan escaped your lips as your back arched high. "Ah!" You gripped the sheets desperately from pleasure. He sluggishly swirls his tongue around your opening before pushing it inside.

"G-Gojo!"

Gojo continued his sensual pleasuring to you, glancing at you from time to time, clearly observing your reactions. It's as if he was still craving for more, a mischievous idea popped in his head. He stopped his actions with his tongue.

You stopped your moans as you glimpsed down at him, wondering why he stopped while your face transforms into a frown. "Why'd you st—oh! W-Wait!" Your breath suddenly becomes heavy as your veins are popping through your neck at the sensation. You clenched your toes hard as you panted.

He captured your clit with his mouth in an avaricious sucking motion. A fresh experience rushes through your nerves; it wasn't just pleasure. It proppelled you into a whole new world, it was on top of the world. He grunted against your pussy as you gripped his hair and squeezed it tightly.

You shifted in an attempt to free yourself from the excruciating pleasure he was giving you. As his tongue played about your bud of sensitive nerve fibers, you exclaimed loudly, "Oh my God!"

You felt him release one of his grips from your thigh, and he pulled you into a new, lewd posture by pushing both of your thighs with his other arm. You noticed that cunt and buttocks was more exposed. You object in a dismayed voice, saying, "This is so strange," but the nasty man simply disregarded you and carried on with his meal on your pussy.

Then, as he ravenously gobbled up your clit, Gojo moved his finger up and down on your slit. At last, he inserts his finger into your vagina. You emitted a soft groan. You were a sweaty, groaning, disgusting mess. The way he was making you feel good did not match the statements or expectations you heard from married women.

He pushes and pulls his finger as he curled it, hitting your g-spot. "Found it," a smirk forms on his lips momentarily before continuing his motions. You kept moaning and moaning, your hair was disgustingly sticking onto your skin, and your knuckles were turning white from the grip.

It was until you felt something curling around your stomach, "G-Gojo! Please, s-slow d-d-down! I feel something!"

When he heard that, he quicken his pace and added another finger inside you, making you full. Then you moaned loudly, the curl on your stomach faltering as you released. Your husband didn't shy away from savoring your juices as it coated his mouth and chin.

Your chest heaves as it rises and falls. You were about to close your legs when Gojo stopped you with his leg. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at you.

Is he still not finished?

You swallowed a saliva. "Gojo..." you said, pausing. His eyes were still squinted at you as he hummed in response. You said, "It's time for my duty," quite slowly.

When you said the word "duty," he rolled his eyes and snickered. You tightened your teeth and said, "Why are you acting so immature? I am doing you a favor."

His endearing grin turns into a slight scowl and an upward eyebrow. He sighs and unstraps his belt with a sliding motion of his hand. You noticed that the temperature dropped, chillingly hugging to your warm naked skin.

"A favor, darling? I never mentioned I wanted a favor from you." He begins talking. You watched him with wide eyes while he slowly pulls strap from the belt loop. The way he was pulling it was so... seductive and his hands are so sexy and huge. Oh! What promiscuous thoughts are clouding your mind?

"It is quite frustrating that is how you think of me. Well, I don't blame you. Rather, I blame your father. Although, I am quite satisfied that he gave you as my wife."

You? As his wife? What did he mean by that?

His belt finally was out of his hips as he dropped them on the ground, then he unzipped his pants gently but carefully, as if he is teasing you.

He smirks. "However, my wife couldn't get the silly word out of her mouth and mind. Duty? What an absurd word to use. Maybe, showing you might be the best way to reveal what a real marriage is."

He pushes both of his pants and underpants down his legs as his member springs against his toned stomach. You almost choked on your saliva when you saw the size of it. This is not what you expected from what you've learned from the mouths of those married noblewomen.

How is that size possible?!

He wraps a hand around his shaft as he slowly pumps it, a conceited expression spreads across his face, amused at your reaction that he expected.

"Like what you see, darling?"

You gasped as you averted your gaze in embarrassment. His words are so... crude. You speak in a shushed manner, "That won't fit."

"We'll make it then."

Your face contorted into confusion then panic when your husband pushed both of the back of your knees to your body, exposing your cunt in the most vulgar way. "Gojo!"

He ignored your calls.

Heavens, why do you feel so helpless and weak right now? Is it because the unforgettable pleasure he gave you? He positioned himself in between your legs before sliding his shaft on your pussy to coat it with your juices.

Gojo hissed when he stroked his cock using your cunt. He pushes and pulls his hips to pleasure you and himself. You felt his tip hitting your sensitive bud painfully, making you jerk everytime it touches. Gojo licks his lips when he sees your reaction.

He bends down to your ear as he whispers, "Once I push it in, I'll engrave my mark on your body, heart, mind, and soul. I'll ensure that you'll never have eyes for any other men... or even women if you prefer them." He gently bites the lobe of your ear as you feel the tip of his manhood almost prodding in your entrance.

"I'll make you love me, and I'll learn to love you."

Finally, he pushes his long and thick cock into your pussy. A deep gasp emitted from your lips, leaving you shocked from the godly size. "Fuck... you're — oh — darling," he hissed as he pushed in further into your cunt. You bit his shoulder tightly from the pain.

It took a long hard minute for you to be fully adjusted to his size. You were panting heavily until he finally sheathed his manhood in you. Your husband observes your response as his softened eyes gently asks if he could continue, which you responded with a nod.

Then he thrusted into you sensually. "Ah!" You moaned breathily. He pushed his hips back and forth, ensuring that you feel him inside. But it was lacking, you wanted him to be more rough and mean.

You reached out to him as his eyes were focused on the part where you and him are connected, mesmerized by it. Your voice snaps him out of his trance. "G-Gojo."

"Satoru." He growled.

"Huh?" Puzzlement sets on your face.

A smirk transforms on his lucious and swollen lips. He leaned closer to your face as he pulled his hips until his tip is just inside before slamming his thickass cock hard into you. A sharp inhale left your pretty mouth, your back arching from the sudden slam. His lustful eyes stares at your face, satisfied.

"If you — ha — call me Gojo, I m-might think you're – oh fuck – moaning f-for my father." The smirk never left his face, a glistening sheen of sweat from his forehead were dripping from his face. How does this man manage to look so... sexy and mouthwatering?

"How rud– ah!" You were cut off by another harsh and rough pound. A smirk formed on his luscious lips, satisfied with your reaction.

"Louder. I wanna hear you, darling."

He snapped his hips, making you jerk from the force. "Ah! Oh, lord."

He leaned closer to your ear, his breath fanning against your skin and teeth grazing lightly on your lobe. "My name, darling," he snapped his hips again with much more force.

Your back arched as you screamed his name, "Satoru!"

His handsome smirk widens more at your heavenly voice. "What a good girl," he pulls his body up. staring at your lewd expression.

Oh, how badly he wants to have it painted and be hung in his office. He bit his bottom lip seductively at the thought. He thrusted harder and faster than the pace he did at the last one. A loud moan was emitted out of you.

Sweat was trailing down on the contours of his bulk back, heaves and moans filled the room with ecstasy and pleasure. His snow-white hairs sticking on his forehead as muscles tighten each time he pushes and pulls. Large and rough hands of his gripped the plush of the back of your thighs, forcefully pushing for his huge cock to go deeper inside you. His gaze switches from his dick to your face, loving the ministrations he does to you, so much.

You were so addicting. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, he pulls out. You whine at the empty feeling and prop on your elbow. The smug grin was plastered on the beautiful man's face as he wrapped his hands on your waist before switching positions. He gently places you on top of him, your essence flowing on your thighs sticks to his stomach. You set your hands on his chiseled chest, gasping from exhaustion. You stare at him with lidded eyes, your hair framing the sculpture of your face. What does he want now?

When Satoru sensed the confusion, an amused chuckle emitted out of him. Without effort at all, he lifts your hips and pushes your cunt into his erected cock. A sharp gasp falls on your lift as you drop your head. The way your walls hugged the size of his made Satoru fall his head back, loving the way you take him so well. His right hand grabs your tits, playing with your nipple roughly.

You whimpered at the pain.

"Fuck, s-so tight..." Your husband hissed at the sensation. One of his hands left the warmth of your ass cheeks before placing it on the back of your head and pulling you closer.

"Ride me."

Your husband says. His body slouched against the bedframe, his hair dropped over his eyes, creating a shadow beneath it. Yet his stare was unyielding and full of lust. Your eyes widened as you pulled away from him. The tip of your ears slowly paints red.

Why did he have to say that so.... sensously?

His sky blue eyes bore into you.

"Ah!"

You cry loudly. His huge hands gripping your waist as he thrusts up, the tip of his member hitting the walls of your cervix. "S-Satoru!" You moan.

A smug smile transforms on his swollen lips as he pushes his body towards you, "Now ride me, darling." He lies back down, the mattress sinking softly from his weight. He waits for you to move, his dick warm inside your walls, eager to be milked.

You gulped silently.

Slowly, you brought your knees down on each side of his hips and placed your palms on his toned abdomen, guiding yourself up before bringing your weight down, You moaned in arousal. Satoru throws his head back, a groan leaving his lips. You rocked your hips again, your clit rubbing against his skin.

"That's it..." a hiss comes out from your husband.

You do it again, gasping at each thrust you do. Once you slowly get used to it, your pace becomes faster. Satoru guides you with his hands on your ass, up and down. Every time you set in your motion, you feel every vein of his dick. You wetness leaking out of your hole. It coated a slippery feel on your thighs and his member.

"Good job, darling," he sighs lowly.

Every time he praises you, his tone, his words, just arouses you even more. Motivated, you bring yourself up and thrust down hard, a sharp and pleasurable pain soared through your body.

Satoru brings his right hand in the middle of your legs, setting his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in tight and quick circles. A new nerve sensation shoots up on your body, pleasure all over.

"Heavens...! O-o-oh!" You squeal but that didn't falter your pace rather it made you want to get that release again. "Come on, y-yes."

His eyebrows furrowed as he also quickened his pace on your clit. He finally feels his abdomen clenching, he lazily gazes at you. "Feel that, baby? You can do it. Come on, let daddy make you full." His encouragement made you shift your position slightly, gaining more access with a nimble rate.

Then you feel something churning inside you, twisting and clenching. "I f-feel it," you gasp heavily. He senses you as your walls clenches his dick, making a sharp sound from his mouth. He thrusts upwards, matching your pace as his thumb was still on your clit.

Your release was coming closer, so was his. Each second, your cunt tightens. Then, something was curling inside your stomach, "I-I-I'm coming! Ah---Satoru!"

"Come on, darling. L-Let's do i-it... together. "

Finally, your juices releases from your hole. Satoru thrusts upwards, pushing himself closer to you regardless of the non-existent distance between the both of you. His thick and warm cum fills you up to the brim. He stays comfortably inside you, his cock being coated with your juices, same as your walls. Your combined cums leaks out of your hole, dripping on your inner thigh and his abdomen.

His cum is so warm as it brings you to the brink of bliss. You moaned loudly, arching your back at the same time. Satoru has his hands on a dying grip on your waist, pushing you down further and further to his overstimulated cock. After a while, the noise and gasps dies down in the room as you found your highs. It was tiredness ans sleepiness greeting your body.

"Darling, you're my heaven." Satoru croaks out as his last drop of his cum overflows your insides.

Your body succumbs into exhaustion as you drop down to your husband, your sweat sticking to your bodies. Your eyes were droopy and heavy, you just have no energy after that intense intercourse. Satoru pulls out as he places you comfortably on the bed, grabbing the duvet to cover you with it.

You settled in as you let it hug you, sleep was calling for you.

Your mouth was tight shut as your mind and body slowly shuts down. Yet before you walk into your dreams, you ears somehow caught his words faintly.

"I'll take care of you, darling. I'll give you everything."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune <3