#and then automatically goes that direction

[clumsypuppy]

your artstyle looks like it would make really cute mlp fanart and its making me want to ask if youve ever drawn mlp characters so here i am

Now I have!

[sttoru]

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

[oatmealaddiction]

Okay but the weirdest thing about the whole "Brotherhood is better you should skip 03" discourse that's become commonplace now, it sort of forgets the world Brotherhood came out in and why you should watch the original Fullmetal Alchemist. When Brotherhood came out, the original Fullmetal Alchemist was one of the most beloved and most watched animes of all time. Brotherhood assumes you the audience have already seen it because of course you have, everyone has seen it, so it skips important information and speeds the story up because it doesn't want to bore you with things you already know. Have you ever wondered "hey why does the first episode of Brotherhood kind of suck, and why am I being introduced to like 50 new characters, and why are they acting like I know what the hell an alchemist is?" It's because Brotherhood thinks you've seen 03.

The first 7 or so episodes of Brotherhood constitute dozens of chapters in the manga, and the first 25 or so episodes of the original Fullmetal Alchemist. The Nina Tucker episode in Brotherhood, in FMA 03 takes up nearly three episodes. Yoki gets a backstory in 03 and it's genuinely one of the best episodes and taken directly from the manga and Brotherhood glosses over it because: duh, you've already seen it. And so if you skip the original you miss out on dozens of really great character building episodes like Ed and Al meeting Hughes for the first time and getting to spend a whole episode helping him free a train from terrorists, or Ed and Roy having a duel that expands on the relationship they have, or episodes where the brothers just help out random people in towns before the major story gets going.

The original also paces itself quite a bit better than Brotherhood and is more in line with the mangas storytelling. In the manga we don't find out about The Gate until nearly two dozen chapters in, and the same goes for the original anime. Like, that's a twist reveal in those stories, and it's weird that the most watched series is the one where they tell you all about The Gate in the first two episodes because they assume you've already seen the original show.

What's more, people don't know that Hiromu Arakawa helped write for the anime while she was still in the middle of writing the manga, and as a result was inspired to write scenes in Brotherhood that the anime did first. That scene of Edward getting impaled by a falling beam? Directly inspired by a similar scene in the original anime. There's a lot of little instances of that and they're great when you can recognize parallels and things in Brotherhood that are direct references to the original anime, but people don't notice any of that anymore. Because the original anime is just an automatic skip these days, and it's a bummer because people don't realize what a giant it was back before Brotherhood was released. They treat it as *bad,* not realizing it was one of the most beloved anime of its time and the problems people take issue with have a lot more to do with personal taste than any kind of actual flaw in the writing. Brotherhood was never meant to dethrone it, and the original anime was always supposed to be part of the viewing experience which is why those first few episodes of Brotherhood are so fast paced. So like, please stop telling people Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is a skip, or it's bad, or you don't need it because Brotherhood is better. Regardless if you think Brotherhood is better or not, the original wrote Brotherhood's check. It was huge, it was beloved, and Brotherhood is *banking* on the knowledge you've seen all of it and loved it. And trust me when I say there is so much to love about the original series. It's still my favorite branch of the FMA franchise, and it's worth your time, I promise you.

[soulrox]

DPxDC #32

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are on the outskirts of town, waiting for Jack to reveal what he dragged the kids out here to show them. A giant structure is covered by a tarp.

"Hey Dad, whatcha make this time?"

"Danno, my boy, this is," dramatically ripping off the tarp, "The Fenton Trebuchet. It automatically sends out a net to catch the ghost. Fire this bad boy and we'll knock any ghost outta the sky." Jack hits the lever, very excited. Nothing happens; it doesn't even move. "Sigh, another failed invention."

"Oh no, that's too bad, Dad, maybe next time," Danny says while thinking back to the other night when he sabotaged it.

Jack dejectedly drove back to the house, leaving the trio behind. Danny, Sam, and Tucker get very excited. A giant trebuchet the size of Fenton works, and no supervision.

The trio stares at the trebuchet with matching grins.

"Dibs," Danny calls. He quickly fixes what he sabotaged and hurries into the sling. "3, 2, 1 fire," Sam yells as Tucker releases the lever, and Danny gets launched.

An involuntary scream turns to laughter as he flies. Quickly switching to ghost form before he completes his arc right into the ground.

Sam gets launched. Laughing the whole way until Danny catches her. Quickly going back to allow Tucker his turn.

Tucker records and uploads their shenanigans to his blog, where immediately Wes Weston sees it and gets the rest of their year group to join. A chance to go "flying" and be caught by their favorite hero, even the A-listers join.

A good system gets going. Allowing Danny ample time to catch and release people, but gets interrupted by a sleek black plane.

-

"Red Robin I know you're mad at Batman but I think stealing the Batplan and hiding out in the Cave isn't the best plan." Conner says while lounging in the passenger seat.

"Well then B shouldn't have been such an idiot with my case which he completely ruined by BLAH BLAH BLAH and further more BLAH BLA-"

PING, the radar goes off. As quick as it came, it was gone. A moment goes by, and it happens again. Tim directs the plane in the direction of the unknown object. Tim and Conner look at each other, at the radar, then out the window, hoping that the other understands what they are seeing.

A person shooting through the air, making silly poses as they go, only to get quickly caught by a glowing, flying teen. Soon followed by another person being sent flying.

Very concerned, Tim gets closer, dropping the cloaking, and into the line of sight of the glowing flying person.

"STOP FIRING! PLANE!" Yells the glowing teenager as he catches a little girl. The little girl in his arms giggles. "To the person flying, please move out of the way or land and join in." The glowing teen says before flying down to where a very large gathering of teens and kids awaits. They are standing around a very large glowing green trebuchet.

Tim quickly seems to understand what's happening. However, the glowing flying teenager is of high interest, so he quickly lands the plane for answers.

-

A hush falls over the crowd when the plane lands, and out walks Red Robin and Superboy. Tucker looks like he's gonna pass out about meeting his second favorite vigilante, Red Robin. (Oracle, of course, is his #1.)

Danny, Sam, and Tucker greet the duo. A quick introduction and a conversation occur, where the duo gets some of their initial questions answered. Enough information was shared that Red Robin decided he wanted to be launched.

RR gets launched and caught by Superboy. After, RR starts to mingle and gather more information from the crowd. Everyone starts to take pictures with him, and they are very open to answering his questions.

Superboy and Danny end up chatting while they are on catch-and-release duty. The conversation is sort of awkward. Both of them are in a gay panic over the other. Several teens who have been caught get front row seats to the awkward, bad flirting. Sam makes sure to get launched a few times to watch the show.

[sierra-r-a-e]

you were the only one who could get the strongest sorcerer down on his knees like this. “please, princess. let me get just one taste of this pretty pussy~” he’d say, getting down onto his knees, his hands dragging along your sides as he goes.

once you finally agreed to let him taste the most private part of you, his face immediately lit up. satoru quickly got to work pushing, pulling, and tugging on whatever articles of clothing were standing in the way of his needy, watering mouth getting to your pussy.

he took a moment to admire your already glistening folds before he buried his face in your cunt. your hands immediately went to his hair, softly tugging on the silky strands in order to ground yourself from the immense pleasure.

you gently brushed the stray hairs out of his face, watching as he lapped at your cunt like a starved man, his tongue delving deep into your hole before coming back up to circle your clit, sucking on the nub and letting go with a lewd ‘pop’.

he hiked your leg up over his shoulder in order to get a better angle. your hips automatically began to buck into him, making your clit bump against his nose oh so perfectly.

“that’s it, baby, ride my face just like that-” he says breathlessly before diving right back in to your sweetness.

you felt one of his long fingers circle your sopping entrance before gently pushing into you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. he created a rhythm with his tongue licking and sucking your clit, and his finger curling into your g spot. he soon added another finger, your knees nearly buckled from the amazing feeling.

overwhelmed with pleasure, your hands tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a low moan against your core. his cock was straining against his pants, desperately aching to be freed from its confines. though, he didn’t care about that, all he cared about was giving you the most jaw-dropping, toe-curling pleasure you’d ever experienced.

and that he did.

the way his tongue flicked against your sensitive nub sent small electric jolts throughout your body, not to mention the two fingers he had pumping in and out of you. all of the sensations he was giving you came together so amazingly, it was almost scary.

you clenched around his fingers as you neared your release, moaning his name as you practically humped his face. “that’s it, pretty girl, come on my face-” he said, his beautiful blue eyes watching your pleasured expressions as he ate and fingered your cunt.

your orgasm washed over you in harsh waves, nearly drowning you with the sudden, intense feelings of euphoria. your legs shook and you would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for satoru’s free arm holding you up securely.

he continued his ministrations on you, prolonging your orgasm. his tongue and fingers eventually slowed down to a stop, and his fingers gently pulled out of you, strings of slick still connecting him to you.

he made direct eye contact with you as he brought the two digits up to his mouth, engulfing them in the plush warmth and sucking the arousal off of them. he closed his pretty blue eyes with a groan at the taste of you, despite having just pressed his face against the source for a good while.

[slutforformulaone]

F1 GRID || doing the 'fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine' trend!

MAX VERSTAPPEN – suspicious from the second you say “tiktok” you tell him to stand in front of your phone for a sec and he just looks at you. “why?” “just for a video.” “what kind of video?” “max. please.” he sighs like it’s the biggest inconvenience of his life and steps into frame, arms crossed, not looking at the camera. the music starts and he glances at you immediately. “what is this?” you don’t answer. he listens. and then he hears it. he doesn’t move. but the arm comes around your waist in one smooth, automatic motion like it was always meant to be there. he doesn’t say a word. just stands there holding you, very still. very sure. "this is stupid," he mumbles, yet he doesn't let go.

OSCAR PIASTRI – is already regretting agreeing you’re like “stand there. it’s for a tiktok.” he just blinks. “what’s the video?” “don’t worry about it.” “that’s literally the worst thing you could’ve said.” still does it anyway. stands there next to you looking mildly confused but accepting his fate. when the sound starts he’s staring off into space like he’s trying to solve a rubik’s cube with his brain. the line hits and he just… tilts his head slightly, looks at you, and then slowly reaches out like he’s not sure if this is the right moment. wraps his arm around you awkwardly but affectionately. “was that the right part?” you’re laughing too hard to answer. he’s so polite about it.

CHARLES LECLERC – hasn’t seen the trend and is entirely unprepared he's sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling on his phone and you’re like “can you stand up for a second?” he doesn’t even ask why. just gets up. you hit record. the sound starts. charles gives you a suspicious squint. “what is this? why does the voice sound like that?” then the line plays and he just… makes a decision. hand goes around your waist without hesitation. slightly amused expression. “i assume this is the part,” he says under his breath, still staring at the screen. he’s not sure what the point of it was but once he watches it back, he smiles. “we look good, no?” classic.

ARTHUR LECLERC – has definitely seen the trend and is 100% ready to commit you say “can you stand in front of my phone for a sec?” and he immediately gives you that look. “is this the grab your lady if she’s fine thing?” you try to play dumb. “what? no. just listen to the sound.” he grins. “okay.” he stands there pretending not to know what’s coming. hands behind his back. nodding to the beat like he’s never heard it before. line hits and he spins you into him like you’re dancing at a wedding. way too dramatic. “arthur.” “what?” you show him the video, blushing like a schoolgirl and he shrugs. “you said i’m fine.”

GEORGE RUSSELL – takes direction very seriously “can you stand there for me real quick?” “what for?” “just a tiktok.” “okay. what do i do?” “nothing. just stand there and listen.” george nods. sets his stance like he’s about to do a presentation. the music starts and he’s staring at the phone like it’s going to give him instructions. you don’t say anything. the line plays and he does a tiny double take before stepping beside you and gently resting a hand on your waist like it’s some delicate ritual. when it’s done he just nods. “interesting trend. i like it.” acts like he just passed a test.

LANDO NORRIS – knew what was coming but still acts clueless for fun you’re like “come here for a sec.” “what for?” “just a tiktok.” he grins. “a tiktok?” you narrow your eyes. “yes. stand there. listen to the sound.” he hums casually, totally pretending he doesn’t already know what you’re doing. the music starts and he’s deadpan. arms crossed. then it gets to the line and he suddenly lunges forward, throws both arms around you and dips you like it’s a movie. you shriek. “lando—” “sorry,” he says, clearly not sorry, “the sound told me to.” giggling through the whole replay. wants to do it again.

OLLIE BEARMAN – 100% has seen the trend and is trying not to laugh you ask him to stand in front of your phone and he’s like “is this one of those trends?” “just listen to the sound.” “mhmm.” he's already smiling. when the voice hits, he doesn’t even move for the first second. then just reaches behind him, finds your hand, pulls you in without looking. “you think you’re so slick,” you mutter. he shrugs. “it worked, didn’t it?” you play it back and he watches like a proud director. “perfect timing. we should do another one.”

CARLOS SAINZ – immediately suspicious, immediately dramatic you tell him “stand in front of my phone for a sec.” he squints. “what is this?” “just stand there.” “but what am i doing?” “carlos.” he sighs like he’s being dragged into the worst job of his life. stands in frame with his arms crossed, watching the screen like it's going to betray him. the beat starts and he already doesn’t trust it. the lyric hits and he goes full latin soap opera mode — dramatic hand to the chest, steps forward like he’s rescuing you from danger, pulls you into a full-on slow sway. “i am the gentleman,” he mutters. you’re laughing too hard to finish the video.

ALEX ALBON – chaotic neutral “stand there for a second. just listen to the sound.” alex mumbles, “oh no. you’ve got that tone.” you blankly stare back at him, “what tone?” “the ‘i’m gonna do something you won't like’ tone.” he stands there anyway, half-smiling, arms at his sides like his life is about to ruined by a tiktok. the sound starts. he listens. nods along. the lyric hits and he flings an arm around you like he’s in a sitcom. does a dramatic lean and whispers “my lady…” then bursts out laughing. “wait wait, that was good. did we get it? lemme see.”

LOGAN SARGEANT – has no idea what’s going on, tries his best you say “logan, stand here for a tiktok.” “oh god. do i have to dance?” “no. just… listen.” he steps up, shoulders tensed like he’s bracing for something to jump out of the screen. the sound plays. his brow furrows. he hears the lyric and just sort of looks at you. “...is that my cue?” “yes.” he puts an arm around you like he’s posing for a picture with a fan. doesn’t move. doesn’t blink. “was that right?” you nod. he exhales. “thank god.”

DANIEL RICCIARDO – knew the trend before you even finished your sentence “stand here, i’m filming something—” “is it the trend where you grab your fine-ass girlfriend?” you stare at him. “it is. don’t lie.” he’s already grinning. steps into frame, tugs you in beside him before the sound even starts. “do the thing where you pretend not to know what’s happening.” you glare at him before muttering, “you’re ruining the authenticity.” “i am the authenticity.” he grabs you dramatically when the line hits and yells “YEEEEEAHHHHH” like a hype man. you have to redo it three times because he keeps doing a different weird pose every take.

LEWIS HAMILTON – is confused but respectful you ask him to stand in front of your phone and he’s like “sure” without a single question. you say “don’t ask, just listen.” he chuckles. “alright, mystery girl.” the sound starts. he’s bopping his head a little, waiting for the vibe to drop. then the lyric hits. he pauses. raises an eyebrow. then just… gently reaches for your hand and pulls you close with a little smile. “i see what this is.” you ask if he’s seen it before and he goes “nah, but the music said what it said.”

[naburi]

BIG SHOES TO FILL

KARINA X READER FT. EUNBI

TAGS: BLACKMAIL, POWER TRIP, SIZE KINK

3K WORDS

“Your face will be seen all over the world if we take this deal.” The manager made sure Karina understood what is at stake here. A global company wants her to be their new model after Eunbi. They are looking for the next “big thing” and they set their eyes on Karina as she fits that description perfectly. The young woman is hesitant because she knows she needs to attend “the meeting” in order to close the deal.

The meeting will be held in the company’s headquarters in the US. Karina will fly with her team to attend the meeting. The idol arrived in the US a day before the scheduled date. They want her to be as fresh and gorgeous as she could be which is not a hard feat as Karina is one of the most beautiful idols who set foot in the K-pop industry. Her other group mates did not fly with her but they made sure to give her encouragement for this day.

Karina wears a black short dress that highlights her alluring white skin and her long slender limbs. Common employees saw her walk through the company floors, they were too stunned to continue their work as their eyes followed a K-pop goddess until she was too far to be seen. The idol felt confident on how the employees reacted to her presence. It gave her hope that this meeting will be smooth sailing.

The door automatically opens when she enters the conference room. The woman's eyes grew big as she only saw one person sitting at the other end of the conference table. The manager told her that she will have a meeting with the investigators of the company. She is more than happy to only meet one of them. “Greetings, Ms. Yu, you can take this seat” you gesture the seat on your right side. Karina walks elegantly in your direction. Her thighs bounce with her every step and her black dress cannot hide the fact how bouncy her huge boobs are. Karina’s confidence fades the more she walks closer to you. She did not notice how big you are to her. She is used to seeing foreigners with average height in Korea and they are considered tall by their standards. Sha has not truly seen a tall foreigner until you. A terrified expression is written all over her face as her eyes balled up in fear.

“Take a seat, Ms. Yu,” your voice wakes her back up to her senses. She sits as elegantly as she can, she is still trying to gain back her composure. She wants to take back the power as she exposes her soft meaty legs hoping that you will fold like any other man. You smirk as you can see what she’s trying to do. You have seen and touched the sexiest bodies, seeing another one in front of you doesn't faze you.

“Our advertising department is enchanted by your ‘big’ potential. We are more than happy to choose you as our new model.” Karina gives you a polite smile. “I’m also glad to be selected by your company.” The idol told you while trying to hide her nervousness. “Before we proceed with the paper works, we need to see that you are the right candidate for this role. Can you prove to us that you are the best that we can get?” That’s the cue for Karina to do her thing. The idol looks you in the eye, trying to see any sign of remorse but she can only see your blank expression as you are waiting for what she will do for you.

Karina pulled down her shoulder straps to lower down the top of her dress. It gives you a more full view of how huge her boobs are. Her cleavage goes deep as she slowly reveals more of her tits. You can see hesitancy in her movement. Her dress is just low enough to hide her nipples. She pauses for a moment somehow hoping that’s enough for you. She notices a dissatisfied look from your face. Your last Korean model, Eunbi, has set great expectations. Her boldness and her seeking for her own pleasure made your sex with her unforgettable.

“I’m not here to make you do to things you are not capable of doing, Ms. Yu. I think this meeting has reached a conclusion.” You set the record straight. You go to great lengths to make sure you have her all for yourself unlike with Eunbi who you share with the other investors. Karina stands up in panic when she sees you are about to walk out.“Wait!” She shouted louder than she intended. “L-let me prove myself to you.” You watched the woman walk nervously in front of you. “May you go back to your seat.” Karina says softly like she’s pleading. “Make me,” you said.

Karina has no idea what to do but she knows she needs to make things happen to save this meeting. She pushed you back to your seat instinctively, even the idol was shocked by her sudden movement. Karina froze up not knowing what to do next. She catches your glances. You’re waiting for what she’s about to do next. She stops thinking and just lets her body do the talking. She sits on top of you. The young woman is surprisingly light with her busty body. She reaches for your hand and puts them in her boobs over her dress. You smirk as you can feel the desperation finally set in on her. Karina is waiting for your hands to fondle her boobs but you are not moving them. She looks at you to see what you’re up to. “Go on,” you said, she’s here to impress you and Karina understood what you mean.

Karina holds your hand to move them into caressing her boobs. You still are not moving them voluntarily and she notices this. She moves up one of your hands towards her face and sucks two of your fingers. This daring action finally elicits a response from you. You look shocked by what she did, you didn’t expect that she is even willing to go that far. Fingers inside her mouth. Her tongue glides over the two fingers as if she's licking a cock in her mouth. The sensation of her tongue in your fingers awoken libido. Karina noticed a bulge is now poking her from below. The idol wants to smile in this small victory but she knows that it’s just getting started. She starts to bob her head while sucking your fingers. Her eyes are locked into yours as if she wants you to feed her the real thing.

The idol pulled down the top of her dress to reveal her massive boobs. Her boobs are big yet look soft, a big contrast to Eunbi’s more rounded and firm boobs. Eunbi’s boobs are the kind of boobs that every man fantasizes about. Karina’s massive soft boobs wake up a man’s dormant instinct into groping and squeezing them. You don’t need her to guide your hand anymore. You cannot wait to touch them, Karina let out a moan as she can feel your hand squeezing her soft boobs. You hold her one boob from the base. Squeezing it towards her nipples as if you want to milk them. Karina moans loudly because of your aggression. She removes your finger in her mouth to hold her boobs. Her hands are under her massive boobs to give them a lift as she directs them in your mouth.

Karina let out a loud moan again as she can feel your assertive tongue flicking her nipple. The idol tries to pull your head back in protest but you pursue her nipple more by sucking it. Karina continues to moan as she can feel your tongue circle her nipple while inside your mouth. Your hand is sunken on her other boob as she squeezes them as hard as possible, you can’t believe how soft these massive boobs are. Karina’s nervousness is lifted off. She grinds her hips to feel your bulge that is poking her. Her other hand is on your shoulder to stabilize herself while her grinding becomes faster as her body is feeling hotter.

You noticed that Karina is ready. “Unzip it,” you said while directing her by giving a look. Karina reached down to your belt to unbuckle it. The bulge flicks as she undoes your belt. She unbutton your pants and unzip it. A form of your huge cock can be seen beneath your underwear. Karina looks horrified, her eyes take a moment to see how big your cock is before looking back at you. Her libido subsides as she feels defeated. “Let it out,” you said with a wide smirk on your face. Eunbi reacts the same way as her but she took it like a challenge. Karina looks like she just lost hope after gaining such momentum. There’s a reason why not everyone wants to take these “opportunities.” Karina will soon find out what really happens during these “meetings.”

Karina slowly pulls down your underwear as she is afraid to see the real size of it. A huge long cock pops up which hits her inner thighs. Only in adult sites does she see a cock like this but here it is, with the fabric of her underwear being the only thing that keeps that huge cock from entering her slit. “You can touch it, you know.” You said almost in a mocking tone. Her innocence adds to the allure of this young woman. With her visibly trembling hands, she reaches down to your huge cock. “Are you even touching it?”, you said as she barely wraps her hands in your cock. Karina looks at you again almost begging not to continue but you just give her a stern look. Her eyes look back down as she holds your cock with her two hands.

The Idol gently strokes the huge cock she’s holding with her both hands. Her fingers are not able to wrap around it due the thickness of your cock. Her mind is filled with worry if she can take your cock. “You should kneel.” You said, Karina listens as she has no other choice now. She stands up before kneeling in between your legs. Your cock looks even bigger when it is just an inch away from her face. She caught your stares as she’s looking upward to you. You keep your straight face as she still hasn’t done enough to impress you. Karina licks the tip of your cock. She can feel in her tongue how hard your cock is. You must really be aroused by this helpless woman. Karina opens her mouth, she carefully tries to put the tip in her mouth but it can barely fit.

The helpless look over her face turns you on even more. You pat the back of her head to the notion she should go down now. Karina stretches her mouth as wide as she can before swallowing the up of your cock again. She managed to put your big tip in her mouth. You give a nod as approval. It looks physically impossible to deepthroat your big cock but you want to see her try. Karina painfully lower her head to take your shaft. Her soft cheeks are getting stretched out as she slowly goes down. You feel a different level of tightness as your tip is now in her throat. You can see her struggling but she manages to take half of your cock in her mouth. She looks at you to see if you’re amused and you give her a nod again.

Karina pulls her head up to let go of your now lubricated cock. Eyes watery, drolls dripping down her lips. She tries to compose herself as she catches some breath. “Are you okay Ms. Yu? Shall we continue?” You asked if she had any other choice. She holds your shaft as she puts your hard tip inside her mouth again. She goes low enough to suck a third of your cock. She bobs her head up and down to suck it. Karina knows this is the best she can do, hoping that will be enough for you. You let her do her thing, she goes from licking sides of your shaft to sucking your tip. You smirk as she is visibly uncomfortable with the size of your cock. “Stay down there.” You said as she continued to lick your balls. Her tongue circling around each ball while she gently sucks them alternately.

You took this opportunity to hold your shaft to slap her face with your wet cock. Your big cock covers the rest of her face as you let it rest there while she continues to suck your balls. Karina flinched in shock as she felt your fingers gracing through her hair. Scenarios flashes through her mind on what you will do to her right now. The idol freezes in the moment as she can feel your fingers are now at the back of her head. You smirk as she looked so worried about what you would do to her.

Karina feels your other hand is holding the back of her too. She looked up at you and saw a smirk on your face. “Just open your mouth.” Karina closes her eyes as she slowly opens her mouth. Karina felt her head push forward to meet your hard cock. In an instant, your tip goes through her mouth and down to her throat. You pull her head back as she starts coughing but before she can fully recover, her head is pushed forward again to swallow the massive cock in front of her. This time you left her for a while as your whole shaft is deep in her throat. Karina tried to stay calm but she can’t breathe due to how big your cock inside her mouth. She taps your legs pleading to be let out. You pull her head back, she coughs up some saliva as she’s trying to catch her breath.

Karina’s head was pulled again with force as you force your cock inside her mouth again. You can feel her throat stretching with the sheer size of your cock as you continue to use her mouth. Tears are now coming down her eyes as she can’t take it anymore. The next face of your endorsement looks like a mess taking your huge cock. Her jaw is completely wet due to how much drool is dripping down her mouth. You pull her up by her shoulder motioning she should stand up. The idol weakingly stands as she gathers her remaining strength.

“Sit on it.” Karina’s will is shattered. There is no way that she can take that massive cock of yours and she knows that. You took a step back as she wants to back out but you just smile at her knowing she really has no choice. Before you said another word, Karina quickly moved forward to sit on your lap. Her feet are on the side of your seat as she squats up to align her slit on top of your cock. You are just looking at her dangling boobs while she’s getting ready. Karina looks at you, almost like she’s trying to plead for the last time. “Continue,” you smirk.

Karina sits down on your cock slowly. She left out a loud wail. She can feel her insides getting stretched so much as she continues to sit down. You are not sure if the sound proof walls fully contained how loud the idol is. Karina is midway through your shaft but she can’t go any deeper. “M-my inside is full, I can’t take it all” she said while in pain. She’s afraid to speak up to you but she is at her limit. Not even saying a word. You hold her by the waist and push her down yourself. The sound of Karina’s loud cry bounces on every corner of the room as she can feel her inside is being ripped by your huge cock.

“P-please,” before she can finish what she’s trying to say. You slam her down your hips as your massive cock is now fully inside her. Loud wails of pain were left out by Karina. She felt your hand hold her tighter as you are now pulling her back up. You groan as you can feel her inside walls while moving up. Karina helps herself go up just for you to slam her back down again. Karina’s loud wails are almost in rhythm with how you move her body in an up and down motion. You watch as her massive soft boobs bounce while she is getting impaled by your huge cock. One hand still on her waist, you reach one of her boobs to squeeze them. The way her massive soft boobs bounce can hypnotize any man. You widen your mouth to put as much of her boobs in your mouth. Karina moans as you suck her nipple hard. You slap her ass, motioning her to move in her own accord. Karina continues to ride your cock while you are now focused on her soft boobs. You squeezed her boobs together and tried to put both of her nipples in your mouth. Karina moans as she can feel your tongue alternately licking on her nipples. You felt Karina stop her movement and arch her back up in pleasure. You pull her up to release your cock and carry her to the long massive table in front of you. “Lay down,” you instructed her. Karina composes herself to take your cock again but she looks horrified as she feels your hard cock is poking her ass.

Only you and Karina can hear her cries and pleas.

Two weeks later, a new model was introduced.

[callsign-rogueone]

Going off your wingleader!Liam idea… Liam and reader are third-years and total couple goals. A first year comes in and starts flirting with reader every time he sees her. He doesn’t know she’s dating his wingleader. She’s polite but doesn’t mention Liam.

One day during training the new guy is watching reader and running his mouth about how hot she is, nudging other guys in his squad and making all kinds of remarks, even going so far as to make a comment to Liam. Liam just smirks, showing off those cute little dimples, as reader walks over and kisses him in front of everyone. New guy just stares in absolute shock (and horror when he realizes the woman he’s been objectifying is his wingleader’s girl.) Need a fic like this immediately 😭

I love this so much. I don't have the bandwidth to write this into a whole chapter but I DO have ideas. so here they are. (future Liz here… I got very carried away. but it’s Liam, so it’s fine.)

this guy clearly thinks he's hot shit. not even bonded yet, but his ego is bigger than Tairn's. so of course he goes after you, a third year with a leadership position at the top of your class. (because Liam's girl is as perfect as him.)

at this point you're used to these boys coming in and trying to flex on everyone. so you know how to brush it off. it's so routine that you don't even mention it to Liam, because you've got more important things to do / discuss.

anyway.

a couple weeks go by of the same thing, until one day, mister confidence is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. running his mouth without realizing who's around him, watching you demonstrate something and making comments to his friends instead of paying attention. Liam's about to elbow him and tell him to shut up, and then he realizes that they're talking about you.

immediately, he's upset — he's just itching to tell this guy off, both for talking when he's supposed to be listening to directions that could save his life, and also for saying those things about you, making comments on your body and how much he wants to... you know what I’m getting at here. anyway.

you can see Liam standing at the back of the gym, can see the visible frustration on his face and the way his jaw is clenched, his shoulders tight and tense... and you know it's hard to upset our sunshine boy, so something bad must have happened.

you wrap up the demonstration, get the youngins paired up to work, and then you slip away to Liam and give him a little kiss, because that’s your default greeting, that’s just automatic at this point when you see him, and take his hand and ask what’s wrong.

and then all the stress and tension just fades out of him, and he gives you a genuine smile, pulls you closer and holds you in a way that makes it clear that you’re a couple.

normally he isn’t one for PDA, so you’re a little surprised, but you don’t question it at all, just happy to cuddle up with him, resting your head on his shoulder and taking a moment to relax — his presence is always so soothing, and you don’t get moments like this very often in your very busy days as a wingleader and a section leader.

you don’t even notice the boy’s slack-jawed look as he realizes that you have a boyfriend. you’re too busy appreciating the moment you get to spend with Liam — but over your shoulder, he’s definitely smirking at the kid, like… get fucked, she’s mine. not that our boy would ever say that. he’s just thinking it really hard.

he gets a little pouty once you're behind closed doors, though, and tells you about it.

you laugh, and remind him that the first year boys can look all they want, but he's the only one who can touch, and if they do, they're going to get their nose broken. and that he's the only one who can set foot in your room, because you absolutely warded them like Xaden and Violet's.

that pacifies him, but he’s still thinking about it for the rest of the day.

he doesn’t consider himself particularly possessive, but he realizes that he just wants people to know that you’re his — or more so that you’re together and in love, and you’re it for each other.

the pair of you have always been focused on the present, the incredibly stressful lives that you lead here at this death trap of a school. but now he starts really thinking about the future.

you’ll be graduating soon, a pair of lieutenants headed off… somewhere. he hasn’t decided yet. he’ll get his choice, being a wingleader. but what about you? section leaders aren’t promised anything. there’s only one other way to guarantee that you’ll stay together… and damn, does he like the idea of you having matching name patches on your flight jackets.

but you deserve a real proposal, a romantic one, not something rushed, decided out of practicality. and when is too soon in your relationship to talk about that? you’ve been together since your threshing, but it feels like a lot longer than that — everything you’ve endured has brought you closer, he supposes.

you curl further into his side with a sleepy hum. “what’s on your mind?”

he’s about to tell you it’s nothing, but you know him better than that. “you have that look on your face,” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “know you’re thinkin' about something.”

“about you," he answers honestly, lifting the arm you have slung around his waist and finding your hand, taking it in his. it fits perfectly, your skin smooth against the callouses and scars decorating his hands from years of making his carvings. a dangerous hobby, you’d joked. you have a point. he’s amassed more tiny injuries from his own knives than from anything Basgiath has put him through. “about us.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he answers, his thumb brushing over your ring finger, where a wedding band would go. “about the future.”

“two kids and a cat,” you murmur. “and trips to Morraine in the summer. rent a little house on the lake for a week or two, and just lay around.”

“sounds perfect.”

you just hum in reply, too tired to keep talking. Liam presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling the covers a little higher. “I love you.”

“Love y’too.”

[short-honey-badger]

Red-Eyed Demon

Pairing: Luffy x Female Reader

Summary: Luffy has never really been interested in the sexual side of the relationship he shares with you. That is until he sees you watching him while he's in gear-5.

Tags: Smut, pussy drunk luffy, the sex happens. This man loves to eat, and that means you too

Luffy sees the way your cheeks flush, eyes wide and lip tucked between your teeth when he goes gear five. Sees the way your thighs rub together and your hands clench at your sides after he throws his head back and laughs. He's never had much interest in sex, but seeing you watching him with half-lidded eyes, Luffy has never needed you more than at that moment.

He is at your side in an instant, the guy who's ass he'd just kicked long forgotten in his sudden desire for you. Luffy watches you shiver as he looks down on you, lips stretched wide in a feral grin as he reaches for you.

"Cap-" You're cut off when he winds his arms around you, lifting you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically face flushed with hot arousal.

"Sex. Now, _ " He demands with a laugh, and bends to press his face closer to yours, his red eyes taking in the way you squirm in his hold, "I'm hungry."

You can do nothing but nod, and then the two of you were speeding past the rest of the strawhats and to the room you shared with the captain, the door slamming shut behind the two of you. Nami shares a look with Zoro, tone in disbelief as they all turn as one to stare in the direction you and their captain disappeared, "Did... did that just happen?"

Inside the room, you are tossed on the bed, eyes wide and taking in your captain's white hair and the cloudy haze that seems to hover above him, gently bouncing this way and that. He is suddenly back in your face, and you gulp at seeing the hunger in those brilliant red eyes. Eyes to most would be eyes of a demon, but to you? Thye belonged to your captain, the man you had sworn yourself to.

"Hurry up, _," Luffy whines, and his hands are on your shirt, too impatient to deal with the buttons, so he just jerks it open, sending them flying around the room. Next are your pants, and he grins up at you when he sees that your underwear is damp, hand reaching forward to stroke his fingers along the fabric between you thighs. His fingers hook in the elastic, and he snaps the fabric with a twitch of his finger, sending them falling to the floor.

Luffy eyes you up like you are the most succulent dessert, red eyes wide as he pushes you up the bed and crawls forward, falling between your legs, his lips hovering just above your twitching cunt. His hands find your thighs and rack them up, stomach cramping in hot arousal when you watch him lean forward and breath you in, nose pressed into the thatch of hair just above your pussy.

"Smell so good, _. Makes my mouth water," your captain croons, and you shutter when he opens his mouth, hot saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue to land along your folds. You whine when he lunges forward, lips and tongue, a whirlwind of action that makes you whine and squirm where you are pinned under him. Your hands land in his hair, the white locks clutched between your fingers as you hold on for dear life.

Luffy eats you like a man starved, slick sounds echoing in the room as he sucks your clit, tongue shoving through your folds and probing at your entrance. Your stomach tenses, that tantalizing edge already so close. You flex your legs, but he just holds you open with ease.

"Cap, fuck, Lu-Luffy," you are a stuttering mess, eyes locked on the way his tongue delves in and out of your cunt, his face coated with slick and cloudy cream. Your captain is louder than you are, long groans and sounds of appreciation that make your cheeks flush and brow furrow.

"Lemme taste it, _," He growls against your pussy, voice rough and drunk on your arousal, "C'mon gimme, please."

His plea sends you over the edge, a breezy moan escaping your throat, and Luffy whines and groans under you as you cream against his tongue. He slurps and sucks your slick up with reckless abandon, hand clutched around your thighs. When he pulls away, your captain looks throughly debauched, red eyes glowing as he stares down at you.

"Gonna fuck you now, _," He says and you nod rapidly, eyes blown wide and cunt quivering in anticipation. You watch him shove down his shorts, a sharp breath leaving you when you catch sight of his cock.

It seems bigger than usual, and you can only blame the unique form that is gear five. You watch him take his cock in hand, wild grin on his face as he shuffles forward and slides the tip through your soaked folds, a look on sharp concentration on his face. Both of your eyes are pinned to the sight between your thighs, watching as Luffy presses forward, his cock disappearing inch by inch.

As impatient as ever, Luffy gives pause for but a second before he sets a brutal pace, hips snapping with a force that makes you howl, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut in ecstacy. He fucks you like he fights, rabid and fast paced, cock stretching your cunt like it was always meant to be there.

"Nooo, no, no, no, not yet," He bends forward, your legs going with him as he folds you into a mating press, his brow pressing against your own, eyes locked with yours, "Don't wanna come yet."

Grinning you clench around his cock, sucking him in deeper and making your captain curse colorfully into your ear, "Come inside, Luf, fill me up and we can go again."

Your words are what sends him over, a whine of your name spilling from his lips and you groan at the feeling of scorching cum flooding your cunt. But Luffy doesn't stop, his hips keep snapping, fucking his seed back into you as he pulls away with that wide, feral grin painting his face. You grin right back, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair to pull him into a quick kiss.

"Again, Again, Again," He chants against your lips, and you can only nod dumbly in agreement, knowing that you would be here for the foreseeable future, but truly, that was fine by you.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.

word count. 1.7k

note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.

it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.

sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.

you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.

your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.

sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.

the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.

the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.

a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.

“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.

not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”

you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.

that same smile completely disappears over time.

“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.

sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.

it’s getting tiresome.

“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.

before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.

your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;

“do you love me?”

there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.

sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.

a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.

a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.

you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.

you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.

“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.

you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.

what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.

but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.

the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.

especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.

sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.

“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”

sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.

your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.

“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.

he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.

sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.

“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”

you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.

the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;

that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.

“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.

you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.

[bugixxxbunny]

You're Superhero!

Description: just jammed backed full of anime men and how they show their heroism 😁 (Ranpo Edogawa, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Rin Itoshi, Nagi Seishiro, Bachira Meguru, Manjiro Sano (Mikey), and Ryomen Sukuna!)

Content Warning: (very basic smut) Impact play, thigh fucking, lazy sex, Cock warming, shower/bath sex, dry humping slight angst (if you squint) toxic relation (Fyodor) drug use, fingering etc.

Word count: 32,352

Bungo Stray Dogs

Ranpo Edogawa can't stand crime shows, but you love 'em every night after you both finish work, eat a full dinner, and bathe. You both settle into the queen bed; the soft black sheets envelop you two like a cozy hug. Ranpo grunts as it's Wednesday, meaning it's your turn to pick the channel. You always put on a cheesy crime documentary before you could even get a quarter of the way through. Ranpo would be whining, pointing out who did it.

You always praised him. The reason you loved putting these on was because you liked being amazed by your boyfriend. He never failed to impress you with how smart and keen the childish boy really is. Most people dream about superheroes like Superman and Spider-Man, but you always thought of Ranpo, how he warned you once not to walk in a certain direction or else your brand-new white dress would be ruined. Certainly enough, you had no speck of anything on your dress because of the route Ranpo encouraged you to take. How he automatically knows when you had a bad day and stops being so stubborn and becomes sweet and angelic He'd tuck you in and take the train to whatever takeout you wanted. Be patient he will might get lost.

Or how he knows exactly what makes you tick, what overstimulates you, or your version of right and wrong. So, three times a week, on Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday, when you get to pick what you both watch, you'd pick a crime show because you loved to show your superhero praise for all his magnificent deeds and hard work. You put on the crime show to rile up Ranpo. All the praise he receives goes straight to his heads,

"Whoa, Ranpo, you finished that one even faster!" You said, wide-eyed, you slowly moved closer each time he got it right. Your warm hand squeezed his right thigh; your hand basically felt like fire to the detective. His painfully hard cock strains against his boxers, making you giggle. "I hate when you do this. Can we just skip to the part where you give me an orgasm?" Ranpo whines, already knowing how your little game will end. "Such a good boy, Ranpo!" "Smartest boy," you snicker at the nonstop teasing that you couldn't help but let fall from your lips, pulling down his brown flannel boxers, letting his cock bounce free. It slaps his stomach softly before your lips suction cup onto his achy tip. "No, you always do this. I want more; he whines.

Ranpo shoves your head off. Tears of wanting and need, an insatiable desire, pool in his green eyes. "Mhm! Let me do what I want. I deserve it, m'yeah?" You sigh and press your plush thighs together, lifting your legs and giving your needy boyfriend permission. Ranpo smiles wide like a child in a candy store. He grabs your thighs with greed, pushing them to meet your chest, taking away your breath as he spits on the fat, sticking his stiffy right in-between where they meet. His hips snap immediately; his pace is sloppy and quick as he fucks your thighs. Ranpo's head snaps back as the underside of his cock brushes against your soaked panty-clawed pussy. "Fuck, it feels so good. I should let you pick what we watch every day," he moans out before painting your stomach and thighs in white. Maybe Ranpo didn't mind crime shows as much as he led on, but that's why he's your superhero; he wouldn't be afraid to pretend to not comprehend your little games only for you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky was the superhero in disguise. He reminded you that you weren't truly filthy and worthless because of your ability. He made use of you and understood you. Neither of you put a label on your relationship, leading him to refer to you as a subordinate. It was much more than that. Whenever Fyodor was cold, he looked to you, sucking your warmth like a vampire; he'd steal kisses from you like it was a prayer. At night, during the day, every moment of his life involved you. Even the more violent parts. You had already seen Fyodor as your knight in shining armor for saving you from a life of dread and self-hatred, saving you from yourself and the destruction of the harmful ability you wield. "Ангел, you look so darling in the dress," his voice purrs, making you snap out of your daze and bringing your attention to the present moment.

Fyodor claimed he had a job for you to do. He had bought you a new dress just for the occasion. It was white and had a pretty fluff. "It's real sheep's wool. You like it, Ангел?" "I love it, Fyodor. Now we match." His hand reached out, his fingers cold and clammy. They ran down your forearm before he linked his hands with your warm ones. Nothing was out of the ordinary except a feeling in your gut called doubt. You pushed the uneasy feeling down and smiled up at him. "Oh, little Ангел, I'm not done just yet." His left hand pushed your hair from your cheeks, clipping in a small hair charm. It was fragile and dainty, made from glass in the shape of a star.

"Beautiful," he said. His face wasn't full of emotion; it never was. His face had that simple smile, but that was Fyodor, your genius man. You tried to rationalize the conflicting thoughts and emotions you had as you both walked to the car.

The silence was comfortable. Had you been overthinking you and Fyodor's relationship? Maybe he was just your boss, and he didn't forgive you and the horrible sin of your ability. He wouldn't save you from the hell we call life. "Something is wrong," he spoke up. Fyodor always knew what you were thinking, but instead of lying, you remained silent. "Are we doubtful again, darling Ангел?" The silence emanating from you spoke volumes. "В свое время, мой ангел, твое желание будет исполнено, и я избавлю тебя от греха, который мы называем Способности."

You didn't understand, but you just turned your head to stare outside. You felt his cold hand lurk onto your thigh. "You may not understand now, but you will in time, my Ангел."

You finished the job smoothly, like normal. Fyodor didn't expect anything else from his favorite subordinate. "I'm tired," you mumble. You let your head fall into Fyodor's lap. "Let yourself rest; you won't be useful unless you're rested, darling Ангел." His thick accent lulled you to sleep to the sound of the rain tapping against the car window. His cold palm rubbing the scratches, that littler your skin from the assignment, the driver revving the engine, and the sway of the moving vehicle.

Once you both returned to the 'safe house,' as Fyodor called it, you continued to lie still. He picked you up and carried you inside to your room, placing you on the cushioned couch and sitting beside you again in comforting silence.

Once your eyelids fluttered open, that simple smile appeared on his pale face. "Did you have delightful dreams, Ангел?" Sitting up, he grasped your face. "Yes, Fyodor," you said, the doubt still evident in your features.

"Do you wish to know what was said on our trip to your assignment?" Your eyes widen before you could think clearly. You begin nodding, so eager for the knowledge. Whenever Fyodor spoke in Russian, it was to conceal something from you; you became so desperate to understand him you couldn't help but nod like it had become an instinct. It was. "В свое время, ангел мой, твое желание исполнится, и я освобожу тебя от греха, который мы называем Способностями means in time, my angel, your desire will be fulfilled, and I will free you from the sin that we call abilities.'" He purrs, stroking your face.

that's all you needed. Your only reason for Fyodor being your superhero, your savior, your reason to live, is in those few words you kiss him feverishly, unable to help yourself his hand adjusts you onto his lap, and the kiss was calculated and thought out on his part, yours were sloppy and messy, tugging at his coat and shirt. To feel his soft and delicate pale skin under the tips of your avidity fingers, he complies with your needs and lets you have at him. Your hands tug his clothes to the ground. before you can take off your own; his hands do it for you skillfully and quickly. "Won't you keep me warm, Ангел?" His cock was veining and somehow always cold no matter how hard and horny he was. You took your seat snugly on his cock while your fingers tug at his rosy nipples. Cock warming was his favorite. You couldn't help but indulge your superhero savior in disguise.

Nikolai Gogol makes you laugh That's his superpower. When you two are out and about, he tends to do an impersonation of the shopkeeper that kicked you both out of the store for being too 'rowdy,' or if you two are on a date, he won't stop repeating a phrase you thought was funny.

That smile. your smile is the only reason he allows himself to stay in his cage. Nikolai's superpowers don't stop at just jokes he will portal you flowers once a week all different types of roses, snowdrops and you couldn't even name them all they began to become bigger and bigger until you had to tell Nikolai to calm down on the flowers

his afternoons spent laying in-between your thighs these times are when he allows himself to be trapped like a bird in these wonderful emotions, he'd hum whatever song you had playing in the background while you both wasted the day playing games

today was different it was a sunny afternoon and you both sat on the beach the rays of suns tanning your skin and burning Nikolais you both were sandy along with being partially wet you had begun to pack up the beach bag wrapping up the towel and fitting them snuggly inside as Nikolai continued to run around and kick little kids sand castles down something you had already reprimanded him for "oh dove this was so fun!" Nikolai cheers, jumping on to your back and pulling you down with him into the dusty sand, causing a fit of giggles between the both of you. You roll on top of him. "Come on, wrap it up. I'm starving!" you say, catching your breath. "Where we eating, my lady?" he says, picking you and himself up from the sand. You wrap your arms around his neck as he swings you around in his arms. "Mhm, no clue. What are you in the mood for?" His eyes sparked with that mischievous look in them either he was going to quiz you or say something horny. "You're thinking dirty, aren't you!?" You bang on his chest, and he drops you onto the sand. "Pfft, you're no fun," Nikolai whines. His actions makes you roll your eyes.

once you both finally got home you pull Nikolai to the shower immediately sure the beach was fun but sitting with a sandy crotch wasn't. Nothing was perfectly easy with Nikolai around he whines and tried to pull away stating this was a way to free himself or some bullshit you shove him into the bath "strip" you groan exhaustion finally hitting as you peel off your clothing and mushy bathing suit from beneath Nikolai does the same not fighting much anymore you step into the heated shower and your body relaxes "come in its nice and warm" you let a soft sight as you let the water douse your scalp and run down your breasts he hoped in the shower a bit faster after getting to see this new expression of yours it was fascinating after a few minutes of feeling his gaze you open your eyes.

"Hi, honey you're staring" you teased wrapping your arms around his neck, the heat of the water and Nikolai makes you have that same expression from a few minutes ago. It wasn't a smile, or a laugh faces he had normally caused you to have this one was different more than different, it was special. A soft gasp leaves you lips as Nikolai hostess you up from your thighs "huh what are you doing Nikolai?" "relax my dove I want to make you feel good" he whispers into the shell of your ear. pushing your head to fall onto his shoulder his spongy tip smacks against your clit before he dives right in bottoming out quickly making drool seep from your puffy lips and ooze onto his shoulder. His thrusts are deep and considerate making you cream on his cock rather quickly he makes sure to keep that expression on your face for a while. You're hero enjoyed fits of laughter, but his secret power is relaxation.

Blue Lock

Rin Itoshi was the quiet superhero He was stoic with the meanest resting bitchface. He tried to be nonchalant, but once in a while he'd let the facade slip, like right now you sat in your shared bed teary-eyed. Rin had stayed out much later than he had planned training. You felt inferior because of his love of soccer/football, a race you weren't even trying to compete in. You wanted Rin too to continue the sport and be the best at it, but it came to a point where you questioned breaking up with him. Your weekends would be spent in the empty apartment alone, date nights like tonight forgotten. You broke down because this wasn't the Rin you fell in love with. The Rin you had fallen in love with was quiet. Snotty listened and never forgot a date; he was usually early.

A soft hand interrupted your thoughts. "m'sorry." His voice was quiet, and he stared in the opposite direction, his bangs brushing into his long lashes, concealing his eyes from your gaze. "Then stop doing it! The only time I see you is when you're sleeping!" "You know soccer/football is everything to me; I'm going to be the best striker." "I'm not asking you to forget soccer/football for me; I just want you to make time for me." The fat globs of tears continue to roll down your puffed out cheeks; they weren't tears of sadness anymore; they were of frustration. How could Rin not understand you just want him to be present? Rin sits down after taking a moment of silence to assess the situation. "Please don't cry; just talk to me. I'm listening."

That's what made Rin your superhero. He sat like that listening to your frustration of being alone, how you fought to keep his attention, and how you even considered ending things between the both of you. This info broke his heart. He had remembered everything about your likes and dislikes. He spent 5 minutes picking out the food you hated most from a dish, your favorite color—hell, he had even picked his cleats to be the same color. Anything you'd name, he knew it, the way you liked his hair he took in consideration your opinion for every aspect in his life. Rin loved you deeply; so how did he let himself become so stupid, that what ran in his head the whole time you vented about your frustrations, you were rooted into him even deeper than soccer/football, and it took you crying for him to realize this. He had felt so stupid all those times he turned on y'all's song, (Oh My Love by John Lennon). He could have been with you once you had quieted down, and the tears were all dried up.

He spoke, "Forgive me; I'm not good with speaking about emotions." This was his way of letting you know it was your time to listen. "I've never been good at doing stuff like this. I won't make an excuse because I don't want you to leave. I can only show in results, but you won't see them if you end it now." You watch as his eyes shut, his long lashes casting a shadow over his face. "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry and give me a second chance to be better and let me make it up to you...please." You couldn't help but giggle; it made you feel good to know he was human too. Your hand brushes his bangs from his eyes. "Even if I really wanted to, I couldn't leave you not like this. I'd hate myself for it, When I leave, we will be old and gray." "Don't be ridiculous," Rin spoke, but the tips of his ears were a fiery red, and his eyes were shut tightly.

"Does our date have to be over now, or can I make it up to you?" You remain silent, but the look on your face Rin remembered that one too well. His body shifted to sit in front of you, his large hands groping your breasts in a familiar way. How you like it mostly how he likes it. His strong, lean frame towers over you. Rin didn't tend to apologize in words; when he did, they weren't as heroic as his actions. He lifted you onto his lap; his hips found their spot nestled between your thighs. His groping continued with hot, thick kisses smeared down your neck; his hands couldn't help but use your waist to smush your drenched panties against his rock-hard tent. Rin may not be a hero of many words, but his actions will always shine through.

Nagi Seishiro was a superhero to save everyone else from your bratty attitude. Most people would think Nagi would find you a bother, but he enjoys your snotty comebacks, pouty lips, and stubborn huffs. You were classified as not a bother to him; he didn't mind having you boss him around. Instead, he preferred it, meaning he wouldn't have to think. You'd end up yelling at him for not completing a task you hadn't even asked him to do and just expected of him.

Whenever you got like this, Nagi had to pull out the 3-method strategy. Method one: he'd have to practically smother you into calming down. "Nagi, off!" You flailed around trying to get the large man off you. Nagi just sighs and holds you tighter, making you whine impossibly louder. Your resistance has Nagi realizes he has to pull out,

method two: He begins to apply soft kisses all over your face. "Please don't be such a pain. I'm sleepy," he mumbles, giving you those grey puppy dog eyes. Usually it worked, but his efforts were futile. "Ugh, Nagi, I swear if you don't let me up and do the dishes right now!" "I have to get ready; we are going out with Reo tonight!" You try shoving him off, pushing on his chest, but he is too large. "Eh, can't we reschedule?" "No, we did that the last time!" Nagi continued his soft pecks all over your face. "I don't wanna," he groaned.

Nagi was starting to become frustrated. Your stubbornness made him pull out the big guns. Method three: you could never say no to this one.

"I'll consider getting a cat." Nagi was sure this would work; it had never failed him in the past before. "You say that all the time, and you never actually consider it!" You puff out your cheeks. "You're being so difficult. How do you know I've never considered it?" "Because every time I show you cats, I want to adopt, you always say that pets are a bother and too much work!" Nagi couldn't believe his 3-method plan didn't work; it had never failed him in the past before. "Fine, we can get a cat if you agree to do nothing with me till the rest of time." "Nagi, we both still have to work!" Nagi lets out a defeated sigh and has to pull out his secret weapon, plan N (plan N stands for something Nagi wants nothing to do with). In this case, it was doing the dishes and leaving the warm bed that he desperately wanted you to stay inside of. He sits up.

"I'm becoming real annoyed with the attitude," he says, still aloof as always. He pushes your legs up an into the matting press position with ease and speed, pulling up his t-shirt that you wore as a sleep dress letting your tits bounce free and lazily moving your panties to the side. "Nagi, we don't have time for this!" "Hush," he said, smacking his puffy mushroom tip against your slick folds to silence you. He thrust into your mushy cunt lazily. He was deep and unambitious; he didn't care if it felt good; he just wanted to sedate you and his poor cock, which was your fault for getting it all worked up with that smart mouth of yours, so it was fair to say Nagi was a superhero of his own interest. He didn't use his powers for the overall good; he used them to support his lethargic needs.

Bachira Meguru and you had just gotten home from a rave night around 2:44 am Raves were something you both loved doing and had fond memories of since you two had met at Portola Festival a few years ago when Bachira had a soccer/football tournament in the US. Since you were both too high to function, you ushered Bachira inside the apartment, making you guys end up crawling onto the couch giggling and laughing. Moments like this were special, tangled within one another, being your goofy-Selfs exhaustion is heavy on both of your features, but Bachira always looks at you with those eyes. After a night spent with you, they express a deep satisfaction within him, like this is what he wanted;

He wasn't alone anymore. His warm palm plants itself to your thigh, rubbing and softly squeezing the skin beneath it. Bachira used the element of surprise when mastering his superpowers to draw you in like a predator. He was sickly sweet; he always was, and touchy like a clingy puppy crying for attention. few words were said in moments like this just your hands running through his short bob tangling deep within the brown and gold locks

"M'gotta let me dye your hair soon" you slurred burying your face into his neck his free hand glides against you back "whenever you want bumblebee" voice deep and compassionate his voice was always adaptable perfect for every type of event this is exactly why he was your superhero he knew your mood like it was his own his left hand lazily glide from your back onto your thigh on the opposite one from his right hands they both kneed the flesh "you looked so pretty tonight I couldn't take my eyes from you" you get lost staring at his hands maybe it was the shrooms you both have ingested but sparks ignited in you tummy "Bachira.." you whisper, whined "aww I know" he said his voice dripping with his usual teasing nature "let me just make sure, I do have the right away to play with you?" He gives you that infectious smile, "Yes, now stop being stupid!" You find yourself tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

You let his long fingers wander up your skirt till they reach the waistband of your panties, snapping the waistband. You can't help but squirm. "You play too much," you whine, hips jerking. Bachira just laughs; the sound does not help the dull ache in your panties. He hikes your skirt up, and his other hand moves your panties to the side. His knuckles brush your reactive clit, making you suck in a breath of cold air through your teeth. "So sensitive, bumblebee, mhm as spongy and soaked as ever" he thumbs at your prodding clit as his fingers push into your pussy. He lets you rock against his hand, enjoying the view.

Euphoria overtakes you, the sensual pleasure and the dopamine of the shrooms pumping through you, and Bachira was the master of these feelings, pulling these out of you. He was your superhero, a shoulder to cry on, to understand why you feel a certain way, to change anything into a smile—one he loved and adored so much. He manipulated emotions, mastered them, and cherished them, making you the perfect one for him. You were so full of emotions, a superpower. He always made you feel good, no matter what feelings were conflicting in your brain.

Tokyo Revengers

Manjiro Sano (Mikey) is everyone's superhero His presence is calming and assertive. He brought comfort using his protectiveness, making anyone feel as if he were invincible Mikey and he wouldn't drop this act around anyone other than a select few that includes the original members of the Tokyo Manji Gang and you.

You had seen the real Mikey doused in the deepest of blacks when he succumbed to the darkness; his eyes were the reflection of what pooled inside and leaked out. But even Mikey had his limits. He had lost friends and all of his siblings, the ones he knew about and didn't know that wandered the earth. He had such big things impact him at a young age; still, many years later, they loom over his shoulders, maybe helping lead up to the incident that happened this afternoon.

You gave Manjiro a bracelet; it was diamond-woven with the color's gold, black, and red, with a dainty charm of your initial. It dangled from the cheesy friendship bracelet. You had given that thing to him years ago, and he had lost it. This afternoon it was given; it probably had broken with it being so old, and the factor that he never took it off.

"I lost it..." Mikey mumbled to himself, digging through a pile of clean clothes, "Manjiro Sano! I just washed those." Your voice was stern, and your eyebrows couldn't help but furrow. You hadn't understood why he was acting so strangely. "Not important," he said. Once you had gotten closer you could hear his voice it was shaky, something you hadn't heard in a while. "Fine," you said softly and sat beside him. "What did you lose, pretty?" Mikey shook something you had never seen; you couldn't decipher it. Could it have been from you calling him pretty? You know he wasn't fond of the nickname, but he let it slide because you were you,

"Something extremely important." He was brief to keep his voice from cracking. "You're trembling, Manjiro...?" And for the first time in years, Manjiro Sano, the invincible Mikey broke down and cried. He tried to choke down the first sob that bubbled up, but like a child, he let himself wail, and his fist tried to wipe away the river that went downstream on his features. "Oh, Manjiro..." you said with sympathy Your eyes had noticed the missing bracelet, the sliver of pale skin on his left wrist, and the absence of the black and red colors, letting the skin beneath finally hit the light. You knew words wouldn't help him catch the air that continued to slip and leave his poor lungs.

Instead, you watched him, a hand snaking from his back to his platinum hair to get lost in the locks. "Do not waste your tears on something so meager; I'll make you a new one." Manjiro finally musters the courage to speak tears still slip from his dark Eyerses "that's not the point I loved that bracelet..." He was always subdued but at that moment his cheeks were puffed out and his tear ducts were stained red, but it made your heart race just like the first time you met Mikey.

Manjiro had always been sentimental and far from a crybaby. You giggle, "I know, Jiro, that was just a friendship bracelet. Let me buy you a ring this time," and he looked up at you with that closed-eyed smile. your word had struck him with a realization he couldn't hide his emotions from you like Toman "I'd prefer if you made me another bracelet out of love not friendship. Leave the ring to me. Shinichiro taught me that's a man's job." He lets his head fall into your left thigh, your hands tread through his blond hair, you let your body run from your mind, and it ends right on Manjiro's lips.

Mikey was a hero to a lot of people, but Manjiro was your hero because of his sentiments. His tears and his sobs were yours to take care of, to make the cloudy skies go away and let the sunshine called Manjiro Sano twinkle for another day. His lips saunter lower, and you drift your head back to let him have his way. his calloused hands trace down your skin they felt alarmed worried you wouldn't let him touch the same because he felt you wouldn't see him the same after his little outburst over the bracelet. your hands pressed his into your waist more "don't tell me the invincible Mikey is getting cold feet" you teased a cheeky smile decorated your cheeks "never." he gave you his own smile again the one you adored oh so much his kisses traveled lower he tugged at your waist band his wet kisses stop at your tummy making the butterfly's inside worse "let me show you an incentive for the new bracelet I will receive" his eyes bore into yours you lift your hips up and he slides them down your thighs before lapping at your already waterlogged panties nibbling at you clit through them he persisted to stimulate you through the thin fabric Manjiro was your superhero in his dark moments, and when he was a beacon of light, but most of all Manjiro reminded you how sincerely fragile the things you possess truly are and to cherish them because one day they will be gone.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Ryomen Sukuna is more villain-like; anyone who didn't know him would think he is a monster. He had four arms, a strong build, and a fitting but oddly terrifying face. From afar All the other servants thought you were trouble, always provoking Sukuna. They believed the hatred was equal between the both of you.

"Lord Ryomen! I told you to stop leaving your clothing inside out. My ladies shouldn't have to deal with extra work?" Being a seneschal did give you higher power over other servants, but you were far from noble enough to yell at the dictator Ryomen Sukuna, everyone was astonished he hadn't discarded you just yet. "Get off my back, woman, before I make you!" "You should know such hollow threats have no effect on me Ryomen Sukuna!" Just as you begin to chew out Sukuna for his lazy act, you hear soft padding hit the floor as the toddler wakes up. "Tsk, and the brat saves you." Sukuna remarks You swiftly pick up Yuji. "Why hello, beautiful boy," he babbles and wraps his tiny arms around your neck.

"Hm, well, it seems I have more important matters I must attend to, your heir. I'll reprimand you later." Your eyes soften at Sukuna before you shift your focus on the young heir. "Wouldn't you like a bath?" you coo while bouncing Yuji on your hip, his giggles infectious. "I'd like for you to attend to me after the brat, woman." Sukuna's large hand pats Yuji's head, ruffling his matching pink hair; his hand then shoo's you both away to get along with your journey to the bath but thaty sadden look stayed in his four eyes.

Sukuna had Azoospermia, the condition meant he wouldn't be able to give a woman a child. The image had made him sick on many nights, but your bickering had soothed the idea of no heir. His twin brother passed on recently, leaving his son onto the great Sukuna after he finally had forgotten the idea of an heir. plenty had worried sukuna the idea of entrusting his teachings to someone who wasn't their own frightened him, but your own soothing words rid him of such stupid ideologies. "He looks just like you, my lord, doesn't he?" "Yuji will have a wonderful technique, don't you think, Lord Sukuna?" Even in grief, Sukuna had your smiley face and your embracive arguments. Truly, one could say you were his superhero, but that wasn't true...

"My lord, I finished with Yuji. What was it you needed? "I demand you accompany me to the hot spring." "Any reason?" you read the firey dictator well you could tell something was on the front of his mind. "No reasons rid yourself of that nonsense," you just laugh to yourself. "I'd be happy to, my lord." Once you both reach the hot spring, you remove your kimono, folding it and hanging it on a rack and Sukunas close by.

You watch as Sukuna steps into the warm spring. You follow shortly behind. "Be real with me. Sukuna, what do you truly desire, my lord?" Sukuna looks down in thought. "I wish to rid you of your duties as Seneschal and make you, my wife." You couldn't help but laugh; no one close was stranger to you and Sukuna's relations. You had both had plenty of nights in his chambers. He only allowed you to care for Yuji's needs. You both bickered like an old couple, picking and teasing one another like it couldn't be helped, and the way he stared at you, the only person he let all four eyes gaze at. "Don't tell me you've gone all soft, Kuna." Your hands rub his cheek and trail to his chest. "I want you to carry my child. Lets try again." His eyes were hopeful, but you sensed the doubt all over him. "We have Yuji. There's no need for an heir anymore." "It's not about an heir. I want you to be with child, my child, our blood." "Oh, Kuna" you whisper. Sukuna had appeared as a villain to everyone else alike, but you saw the man who wanted a child with the servant girl he fell deeply in love with. A mere human who wanted something fleeting and precious, but with the cards dealt to him, he couldn't have that dream. Sukuna was your superhero with his inner strength, his stubborn refusal to give up. "You can be so hardheaded."

You allow your lips trail his strong neck with fleeting kisses. He hums at the affection. "As you wish, my lord." You swing a leg over to sit in his stirring lap, cock hard against your tummy. You struggle to sit on his Substantial size, it had always felt like a train trying to ram into the station, but once stuffed snugly inside, you felt the warmth of the love between you both, Sukuna's slippery but rough grip on your hips to bounce you the water ripples with each movement, the heat from the steam, and Sukuna was overwhelming in the best ways.. Your muscles ached in reminder of recent nights; all you wanted was to give your willful lord his only wish, a family with you, a sibling for Yuji, and to make him yours. You couldn't bear to see your superhero without his cape.

And that's it. I'm so sorry, guys. I know I was supposed to have more characters, and I'm getting so burnt-out writing for this. I've been working on it for so long, and my ADHD is NOT wanting me to work on this any longer, so I am posting this with the characters I have, but I really hope you all enjoy! (Also, I think my writing has improved a lot with this, but I'd still love more tips.)

-love Bunny!

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #16

"Aren't you curious?" Sam asks. "You gotta check it out!"

Danny is not, in fact, curious. He's watched everything his adoptive parents have done for the past six years wildly oscillating between amused and apprehensive.

The Fentons are eccentric, to put it mildly; obsessive, to put it insultingly. But when he's flipped through their papers, the formulas—while far beyond his comprehension—don't look like those of crackpots.

He wouldn't be here if they were merely that. He's not that lucky.

"We should go," he repeats, hands rubbing at his upper arms as a sudden chill works its way down his spine. And then, just as he recognizes the sensation, the world goes eerily still.

"Hello, Danny."

The creature steps forward from behind him. It passes by Sam's motionless body without a glance in her direction. It makes sense. In this silent, stationary world only the two of them truly exist.

The creature looks different this time. Its visage is that of an elder on the brink of death. So decrepit is it that the fluidity of its movement is the most unnerving aspect of its being. But its eyes are unchanged from the child that once came to Danny when he was at his lowest, piercing and red as blood.

Danny bows deeply at the waist. "Creature," he says, as politely as one can when using such a moniker.

The thing cocks its head.

"To receive such a greeting. I am honored."

Danny winces. "I am grateful," he admits. "You have done me a great—...you helped me. Thank you. And uh," his shoulders droop. "Sorry. For before."

They both pause to recall the eight-year old who once hurled curses and daggers alike.

"I have made grown men fear anew what lies in the dark." The Creature says. "You need not apologize for the actions of a scared child."

His eight year-old self would've bristled. He would've demanded retribution for such an insult. He was no average child. He had been raised to surpass the tolerance of any grown man.

His eight year-old self had been scared shitless, yes, but he would've died before admitting such a thing.

Danny isn't that person anymore.

"Yeah but. It was pretty rude." He rubs at the back of his neck. An easy tell. He's allowed that now, to tell and have it be easy.

The Creature seems to be cataloguing these differences. Whether or not it is displeased by these changes, it is difficult to tell. It would be rather ironic if it were upset, considering its technically the creature's fault in the first place.

Danny considers pointing that out, but the Creature is as unconcerned with small talk now as it was six years ago.

"I did you a favor, Danny."

Danny swallows. "Yes," he acknowledges.

"And now you will do one for me."

Danny closes his eyes. Just for a moment.

He'd known the second the Creature had re-appeared. He'd buried the knowledge of the deal he had made only so far as he could enjoy this new life without mourning its inevitable end.

He was built to be a weapon, and his decision had only been to trade the hands of who wielded him. A desperate choice, made by a desperate child.

I wanted to say goodbye! Danny Fenton wails, pushing his hands into his hair. I wanted to hug my Dad. I wanted to hug my sister. I wanted to hug my Mom. I wanted to hug my Mom. I wanted to hug my Mom. I want to hug my Mom—

Danny's hands are trembling.

Oh, he thinks. I did not bury it far enough.

Still, he opens his mouth and answers what has not been asked:

"Yes."

The Creature raises a hand and points past Sam, past Tucker. He points at the portal to the Ghost Zone. His parents' magnum opus.

"Go."

Danny nods, automatically. "I will go to the tunnel."

"You will enter."

"Yes," Danny agrees, blankly. The Creature provides no further instructions. Instead it watches him.

It doesn't work. Does the Creature not know it doesn't work?

It watches him. It waits.

So Danny approaches.

Confusion and fear keeps his steps slow, but the curiosity he never could quite kill keeps them steady. He's ashamed at how fast his heart beats, not because he is nervous but because some part of him, the part that never quite settled in this quiet midwestern town, is excited.

He spent the first eight years of his life fighting to keep it, and the sick part of him that trilled with delight at every blade ducked in the nick of time, every cliff he scaled bare-handed, every time he held his breath for deeper and longer than before—

goes abruptly silent as he reaches the mouth. He places a hand at its lip and peers into the yawning darkness before him.

There was a system of caves he regularly traversed, in the life before this. It was in those caves that he made the deal with the Creature, who brought him here.

"Wait," it says now. It hovers beside him, its purple cloak just skimming the floor.

"What are you?" Danny asks, staring into the tunnel.

"You know what I am, Danny," it murmurs. "Answer her."

"What?" Danny turns.

"I said," Sam exaggerates, "Aren't you curious?"

Danny's mouth is dry. The jumpsuit crinkles in his hands.

"Go."

"Danny?" Tucker asks. Sam lowers her camera.

"Go."

"...You know what?" He pastes a smile on his face. "You're right. Who knows what kind of awesome super cool—" too much, tone it down "—things exist on the other side of that portal?"

It's his idea. Whatever happens next, it was his idea.

His choices. His fault.

He pulls the suit on, letting Sam yank the sticker off. His friends stand together, and he lets himself look at them, take them in, just for a moment.

He steps inside.

Maybe. Maybe this isn't the end. Maybe he still gets to have this. Maybe maybe maybe.

In a previous life, he thought the caves would be his tomb.

But he made a deal. He escaped. He became Danny Fenton.

This is not the cavern of his childhood. He learned the crevices of those walls twice over; once by torchlight, then with the tips of his fingers and a cloth tied over his eyes.

Danny Fenton has a family. Danny Fenton has friends.

He trips on a wire. He feels the chill of unfamiliar metal even through his gloves.

Danny Fenton has hope.

The wall gives way under his palm. Something beeps.

And Danny Fenton dies.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 8)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

-

Now a nocturnal animal emerges into the daylight hours.

A week becomes two and your shoulders untense. It’s not something you notice at first because you’re used to an ever present strain between your shoulder blades and an ache in your jaw from grinding your teeth at night. Then a fortnight goes by without so much as a missive with your name on it floating across John’s desk or a stranger appearing in town after tracking you down, and you wonder if maybe the world really is big enough to hide in. 

It sure feels that way at times. The woods beyond the bounds of John’s property stretch out farther than the eye can see and even walking it feels like you could disappear into another realm. Old spruces shoot up high into the clouds, and deeper into the woods, huge rock formations grow more and more prominent as you near the mountains. John takes you through the woods on horseback, following the rough trails carved into the dirt by a century of wagons and carts using the same path. The footprints of a different time. 

Up in the trees, birds warble and chirp, talking to one another in songs that you’ve never heard before. A woodpecker drills into the side of a tree. Pinecones snap out of the upper branches and drop to the forest floor. 

There is only a single trail and it’s easy to lose. You grow a bit nervous when John takes you off the trail and deeper into the woods, but he does so with the confidence of a man that knows these woods like the back of his hand. You go quiet when he stops Buttercup to let a herd of deer wander by, the stragglers hurrying to catch up with the group, throwing the two of you nervous glances before they disappear into the thicket. 

“Should we be out this far?” you ask in a whisper, reluctant to disturb the silence. Though the woods are full of animals that bleat, chirp, chatter, and hoot, the sound of your own voice feels preternaturally loud and shrill. 

“We won’t get lost, darlin’. I know my way around,” John reassures you, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. These days, you hardly worry about tumbling off the horse. Not with him at your back anyway. 

“That wasn’t really my worry,” you mumble, trailing off.

“Then what’re you getting all worked up about?”

“Aren’t there wolves out here? Or bears?”

He snorts, the sound making you jolt. You don’t topple over because he has such a firm hold around your waist. “They don’t usually come this close to town. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That sounds like something mothers tell their children to stop them crying,” you say flatly. You draw your legs up automatically when John directs Buttercup through a shallow basin, a shortcut back home. It makes you anxious for a moment, but the water barely goes up to her ankles, so you relax when you realize that you’re in no danger of being swept away by the current.

“That doesn’t mean a bear or wolf can’t wander by, but it’s rare.”

“And there it is.”

You can feel the heat of his glower on the back of your head. “We could spend the night out here if you want to see for yourself.”

At that, you shut your mouth. Even if he were to prove his point, you have no interest in camping out in the woods now that you’ve become accustomed to the luxury of a soft bed. Granted that you’re forced to share that same bed, still you’ve never slept half as well as you do these days. You wake up rested after nine hours of blissful shut eye, a sleep so deep that your dreams only come in half-remembered flashes. Often they involve the man you wake up wrapped around, and for that you’re grateful that they remain submerged. 

A new desire has started to burrow its way into the back of your mind in recent days. It starts out as a thought so brief that you hardly notice it before it skitters away. 

And then it lingers. 

You wake up in the middle of the night hot, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and a fire burning in your loins, a red-hot coil wound around itself, fit to burst. Pulsating. At some point throughout the night, you must have thrown a leg around John’s waist because it rests there now, your hand planted in the middle of his chest and your sex all but rubbing up against his thigh. Under your hand, you can feel his heart pump strong and steady.

You hold very, very still, waiting for him to wake. But John sleeps on, his palm loose where it rests along the curve of your hip, fingers curling into the flesh of your backside. 

You can hardly look at him these days without shaking. You’ve come to fixate on the sway of his hips when he walks and the flecks of silver in his beard. The grooves in his weathered hands. The way your head fits in the palm of his hand when he cradles it to his chest. The fond glimmer in his eyes that shines the brightest when he puts his hat on your head and it slips past your eyes, too big for your head. 

When you tip it up in order to see, the folds around his eyes become more pronounced with the force of his smile.

“There you are, bug,” he says, taking the hat off your head to set it back on his and reeling you in for a kiss. 

Bug, love, honey, darling. The constant flux of endearments makes your head spin. John never calls you by the name on your marriage license. It’s like that name means nothing to him, cast away at the first opportunity and replaced by an endless stream of pet names.  

He hasn’t touched your sex since making you come on the porch swing the week before. He pulls you into a chaste embrace at night, the only evidence of his own desire being the stiff shaft nestled against the small of your back in the early morning hours, which he takes care of on his own in the bathroom downstairs after pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel robbed of something, though you don’t know quite what. 

You’re tempted to offer your help, but you don’t know exactly what that would entail. Inexperience and fear of rejection hold you back, stay your tongue. In the two weeks you’ve been married, he hasn’t once tried to pin you down and rut between your thighs like you expected and dreaded that very first night. 

Now that that time has passed, you don’t know how to initiate that moment again. 

John promises to teach you how to ride a horse. You can’t see a reason to protest, much to your chagrin. Despite your apprehensions, even you can’t deny that it would be a helpful skill. A train only goes one way after all, confined to a single track. A horse has no such laws to obey.

The thought stays nestled at the back of your mind as the days continue on.

You flounder around in the kitchen on the day that John invites his deputies over for supper. You’ve met the big one—Simon—now a small handful of times, each encounter marked by a silence that sucks the air out of the room when he turns his gaze on you and holds it. Perhaps you’ve simply ascribed too much importance to his person, given that every time you’ve seen him, your life has changed irrevocably. His presence is always followed by revelation it seems. The archangel of vicissitude. A harbinger of uncertain times.

The other two are new. John introduces you to them when you bring out the cutlery and crockery to set the table, and you nearly go cross-eyed when they reach across the table at the same time to offer their hands. You go to meet them halfway, but flinch when John brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he apologizes to you first before turning his glare on the other two. “That ain’t proper, boys. You wait for the lady to offer her hand first—you don’t treat a woman like she’s a mutt you’re teaching to shake.”

“Ah, sorry, hen,” the one on the left says, his voice a thick Scottish brogue like a purr. He’s possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever met, but there’s something dangerous and wild in his eyes. When he smiles, it curls up in a roguish sort of way that makes you falter, like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. “Dinnae mean to offend. No’ often we get ta meet such a pretty lady.” 

“Sorry—” the one on the right apologizes in a voice far more earnest than his counterpart’s. “And sorry for him. We think he was raised by wolves.”

“What’s yer excuse then?” the Scot sneers, knocking his knee into the other man’s under the table. “Dinnae see ye waitin’ for her fuckin’ hand like a gentleman—apologies, hen.”

“Christ,” John sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. 

Simon stays silent at the other end of the table, but the whole table jumps when he aims a kick at the Scott’s leg. He hisses and blurts out a word in a language you’ve never heard before, the word unmistakably vitriolic. He clutches at his shin and shoots a nasty look at Simon, though he doesn’t make a move to retaliate. 

“Name’s Kyle. Kyle Garrick,” the other introduces himself, and you finally reach across the table to offer your hand. His hand is warm against yours when he takes it, dark skin burnished in the candlelight. There’s something inviting about him; something about his eyes, so dark that you almost fall into them. Thick lips curl up into a smile. “And this here is Soap.”

You frown. “Soap?”

The man in question runs a hand down his front, emphasizing the cut of his shirt and the way it clings to the muscle of his chest. “‘Cause of how well I clean up.”

Simon barks out a laugh at that. The sound comes so sudden and sharp that it startles you. “You got it ‘cause your mum had to wash out your mouth with soap.”

It’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him and you can only stare wide-eyed at the lot of them as they dissolve into bickering and squabbling after that. It’s almost a relief to head back into the kitchen to finish cooking. 

Dinner is a similar messy affair, punctuated by the sound of Soap practically gnawing the meat off the bone. He only apologizes when John barks at him for making a mess, more food on the floor around him than on his plate, but his table manners don’t last very long. John doesn’t seem so much embarrassed on their behalf as annoyed, but it’s an annoyance that comes with an aftertaste of warmth. You can tell without asking that they’ve known each other for years. 

There’s room enough in you for food and envy. Back home you had friends. Never close friends, but acquaintances at least. Maids you could recognize by face. Small talk while ascending single-file up the servants’ staircase. Perhaps little more than that. You’d never been particularly close to any of them, but how could you? You worked from morning ‘till night, up and down the stairs, moving in the shadows. Never making too much noise lest your employers take notice of you. 

Like he did.

You shake it off. That’s no matter now. You’re hundreds of miles away and living under a new name. A married woman, to the county sheriff no less. It only sometimes hurts your heart to think of how lonely you’d been. 

When they leave, you stand at the window and watch as they disappear into the black of the night, Simon at the front of the pack, his torchlight leading the way. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt recedes the farther they get. 

His hands warm your shoulders. You don’t know how long he’s been there, standing behind you while you stared out the window after the boys. All you know is that his hands are warm, and the kiss he presses to the back of your head makes you arch back into him, unconsciously gravitating closer to him. Needing to be near. 

In bed, you curl your fingers against his chest. On a rough exhale, you wake. You dream still of something terrible that happens somewhere else, in another city, in an old life. His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep.

John takes you to the local seamstress to have you fitted for a pair of pants and suddenly you’re out of excuses. They fit you comfortably, like a second skin, and you find yourself pulling at the legs at your final fitting as if to stretch out the material. The seamstress nearly jabs you with a pin and glares up at you until you stop fidgeting. 

You come to terms with it when he brings you into the stables and makes you fetch the saddle from where it rests on its stand. It’s heavier than you expected. You stumble back over to where John now has Buttercup standing in the middle of the stable, holding her by the lead fixed to her bridle. 

“I don’t know if—” you start, trepidation climbing up your chest until it grips you by the throat. For as many times as you’ve ridden her, you’ve never done it alone. 

John fixes her lead to a post and walks over to you, taking the saddle from your hands and letting it drop to the ground. He cups your face in both hands to tilt your head up. “Hey, honey. We’re not doing much of anything today, alright? Just a walk around the paddock so you get used to sitting on Buttercup on your own. I’m not gonna smack her ass and send you down the trail at full tilt..”

That gets a laugh out of you. “You promise?”

He smiles. “Promise, darlin’.”

And he keeps it. The only thing you do that day is learn how to tack a horse and how to properly mount and dismount her. The latter part of the lesson is devoted to you trying to find your balance while John leads the two of you around the pen at a leisurely pace. He calms you down when he sees you grow too stiff, stopping to coo and rub your thigh until you gradually relax. It’s heartwarming until Buttercup begins to tense up too for a reason unbeknownst to you and you watch in righteous fury as John calms her down the same way.

John gets you a hat to keep the sun from beating down on you, but there’s little he can do about the soreness between your thighs and the stiffness in your legs the next day. All you can do is hiss and moan in pain, hobbling around the house until he forces you down into a chair and hikes up your dress in order to apply an arnica salve to your inner thighs. 

It’s a relief and an affront at the same time. The duality of man. The salve soothes much of the ache, but you twitch nervously around John for the rest of the day, the memory of him pinning you to the chair and forcibly spreading your thighs haunting you. The lingering ache in your core is just the salt in the wound. 

It rains another day. A light drizzle while the sun is still out.

Every day you sit and you think, will it be today? And then the wash basins are emptied out in the field, the horses are taken out to the paddock, you pin the laundry up on the line to dry, and John presses a farewell kiss to your forehead when he leaves you with Kate and nothing happens. Every inch of you waits for more, anticipates more. Throbs when he leaves you wanting, only a chaste kiss and a squeeze around your waist before he’s off. 

You can feel it coming to a head. An itch you can’t shake. 

That day comes with another ache you can’t shake. 

“Please,” you beg, clasping your hands in front of you. “One day of rest. That’s all I’m asking. I can’t do this anymore, John.”

John snaps the lead in his hands. “Let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight.”

You hang your head low on the march over to the stables, John taking up the rear like he expects you to bolt. An executioner’s walk. The thought of escape has never seemed further away—not even because of its feasibility, but because all you want to do is lie down and rest.

“You can quit your moping,” he says as you tack up Buttercup, a pout on your lips. “Got something special for you today.”

That makes you perk up, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t specify what that is. Anticipation mounts in you when he helps you up onto Buttercup and then climbs up behind you himself. He steers her away from the paddock and towards the trail leading into the woods, the sun at its zenith now, illuminating everything as far as the eye can see.

You’ve ridden this trail before. A week ago, with John at your back as he is now. Through the fields and over the hills until the trees start to number in the tens and then the hundreds, no clear delineation between plain and forest. Simply there and then everywhere.

By now, after hours of sun beating down on the path, the trail is mostly dry, yesterday’s rain long since having sunk into the earth. You think it’d still be a tough hike on foot, but on horseback you cover acres of land at a brisk pace, Buttercup hardly breaking a sweat. You cross paths with a small group traveling by horse and wagon, but John breaks off from the path not too long after that, steering Buttercup deeper into the wilderness, where the only gullies are the ones carved out by years and years of rainfall. 

You only see it when the land begins to dip and you’re forced to hold onto the horn and tighten your thighs around the fenders to keep steady. At the bottom of a hill, a small stream opens up into a larger river, narrowing out at the other end where the land rises again and the water can only trickle over the pebbly riverbed. On the other side, a rocky outcropping cuts the stream off from view.

“Is this where you used to come to bathe?” you ask, recalling an earlier conversation.

John sighs. “Thought I’d take you for a swim as a treat, but if you’d rather just tease me—”

“Well now, let’s not be hasty,” you say, already trying to dismount on your own, eyes glued on the stream glimmering in the sunlight. John chuckles, keeping you pressed to him until he guides Buttercup under a tree for shade and dismounts first, helping you down after him. 

All you want to do is wade in the stream up to your ankles, so that’s what you do. Boots kicked off, Buttercup relaxing in the shade of a tree, John standing by the water’s edge with his hands on his hips and watching you tiptoe over the smooth rocks below. You roll up your pant legs, but eventually you feel the ends grow damp as you venture farther out. At its deepest, you would probably sink up to your waist.

“Don’t you want to swim?” John asks from somewhere behind you.

You splash around a bit, kicking your feet through the water. “Hard to do that with clothes—”

When you turn back around to face him, your eyes dart down momentarily at the sight of skin before you squeak and whirl back around, sending up an arc of water. Twice now you’ve seen him naked. 

“You’ve no clothes on,” you state, bluntly enough that it almost sounds stupid. 

You hear the water splash and ripple when he takes his first step in. “Right—you better think about doing the same if you don’t want to ride home soaking wet.”

“I was perfectly fine just getting my feet wet,” you say indignantly.  

“We came out here to swim, not get your feet wet,” John laughs. You stiffen when his hand comes down on your shoulder, conscious of the fact that your husband is standing right behind you, entirely divested of his clothes. “So best get to steppin’.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says pityingly. “Yes, I can.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make your way back to shore, careful not to allow yourself a glimpse of him. Your boots are stacked beneath the shade of another tree, John’s clothes folded neatly beside them. You strip slowly, attentive to the world around you; though unlikely, it’s not impossible that someone might wander by. Your only consolation is that John is still within sight, though you keep your back to him because in recent days, you’ve developed a hunger for him that even now makes your stomach hurt.  

Though the air is warm, you shiver. When you turn around with your arms crossed over your breasts to hide them from sight, you find John wading in the river up to his waist. You’ve seen him like this once before, the hearty body of a man in his prime. Sturdy and strong. The hair on his chest is darker than that on his head, wet too from the dip he must have taken when your back was turned. His hair is slicked back too, a wet hand combing it back. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he calls, beckoning you forward with his hand.

The water is a cold shock when you step in past your ankles. Ice cold tendrils wrap up your legs, sucking the warmth from you. 

You suck in a soft breath when he pulls you into his arms and heaves you up, big hands gripping under your thighs. Your breasts press against the wet skin of his chest, nipples already pebbled. The river is deeper than you assumed; John pulls you deeper in until it pools around your waist and then your chest. Cold enough that you shiver until John dips his head down and the kiss he presses to your lips melts you from the inside out. 

You can’t escape the intimacy of water-slick skin. When John drags you up his chest, your nipples brush over his and the shudder that passes through you is violent, toe-curling. You know that he can feel the heat of your core even underwater. With your legs wound around his waist, every inch of you is plastered to his front. Even your fingers play with the ends of his hair, arms draped over his shoulders. You can’t look away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, breath hot on your face. “Eyes on me.”

As if you could look anywhere else. 

He reaches down under the water to readjust himself and you gasp when his shaft is suddenly right there, trapped between his belly and your heat. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to coitus, his glans nestled between your folds. You’d only have to shift slightly for him to slip right in. The thought makes your breath quicken. 

He doesn’t make a move to take you though, even knowing that he could. How easy it would be. How it’s due to him. Your husband that’s waited a fortnight to take you as his own. John kisses you until each slick pass of his lips grows sloppier, clumsier—his lips barely parting from yours before they’re on you again, rendering you a creature of base needs. 

But his hands don’t shift from your backside where he holds you in place. His fingers dig into the flesh hard enough to bruise, but they don’t move to part your folds to make room for his manhood. You expect him to—practically yearn for it and squeeze him around the neck all the harder when he subverts your expectations, doing no more than letting you grind your heat against the base of his shaft. 

“John—John, please,” you beg, mindless for what. You don’t know what you’re asking for. 

“What d’ya need, darlin’?” he asks into your mouth, stealing your answer with another kiss. 

You fall under the swell of another wave. When the root of his cock glides over your clit, your core clenches on nothing, a sob half-bitten off in your mouth, ripped from your chest. 

It doesn’t matter how close to him you get—he gives you nothing. The heat could very well burn you from the inside out. Cold water caresses your skin as it flows past, but the center of you runs so hot that you hardly notice it. 

When he hikes you higher up against his chest, you clench your fingers in his hair, whining when he takes your nipple into his mouth. Your gasp comes out sharp and hurt when the coarse bristles of his beard rub rough against your breast. He sucks at your breast tender at first, gentle, eyes half-lidded like his mind has gone somewhere else, but there’s a glint in his eye that grows wild and dark, that turns him rough. You don’t know what to do except shake and let him use you how he wants. 

Desperation nips at your heels, urging you up the length of him. If you had more nerve, you’d reach down and grasp him under the water, notch the head of his member against your sex and sink right down on him. You need him like you've never needed anything before. Every part of you aflame, searing hot under the sun at its highest point; right overhead, right on top of you. 

His teeth sink delicately into your areola, tongue lapping over your nipple to soothe the hurt, and suddenly, you break.

“Please—” you gasp, wrenching his mouth away from your breast and whimpering when he resists at first, glaring up at you like he might bite. “Please, John—I can’t take it. I need you.”

His eyes darken, the pupil swallowing everything up. “Need me where, wife? Here?”

A hand dips between your thighs, pointer finger gliding over your sex, plump with blood. So tender that your mouth hangs open on a whine when he touches you. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper, gaze swimming. 

John’s breath comes out in a harsh, ragged pant. Completely undone in a way you’ve never seen before. “Get out, darlin’. I’m taking you home. Gonna give you what you need.”

[puptrefied]

currently thinking about sleepy sex with ellie :(

cw - somno.

　ellie who cannot keep her hands to herself even while she's falling asleep, needs it. the warmth, needs the feeling of your skin, she needs to be as close as humanly possible if not more.

you barely had any time to get under the covers before her hands automatically found their way under your shirt, palm on your stomach to tug you closer—calloused fingers stroked lazy shapes against your skin. her front flush against your back, lips messily meeting your shoulder with a low hum.

baby had to wake up earlier than usual for patrol and was so fucking tiredddd </3

“my hand's not cold…” the sound of her voice was muffled against your back and as much as she denies it, her hand is definitely cold, freezing I dare to say. this woman is an ice cube most of the time. with that body temperature she might as well be liquid nitrogen pretending to be a person.

( and she takes advantage of it to cuddle. )

“ellie, I swear—get your hand away,” you shot back, trying to squirm away from her cold grip, but it only made her tighten her hold, pulling you even closer.

“mm, stop moving,” she whined, her tone dipping into that sleep-drunk whimper that made your resolve crumble most of the time. “you’re warm… feels nice.” her nose nuzzled the back of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

ugh, so stubborn and clingy.

don't blame her if she starts to grind against your ass while spooning, she just wants to be warm! and honestly it's her body acting purely out of instinct.

it's not just to fuck, it's to soothe herself to sleep.

her hips moved in small, unthinking rolls, completely involuntary, like her body was acting on autopilot. she wasn’t fully there—her needy murmurs were barely coherent, breath hot against your neck as she clung tighter.

even if there's no direct contact she lets out little, groany whimpers on your neck while her hand stills its movements every now and then. hazy mind unable to focus on doing multiple things at once. she's awful at multitasking when eepy.

all she can think about is feels good feels good feels good and how her hand goes to grip your hips, you could be dead asleep and her body keeps moving. the hot, tingly feeling in ellie's lower abdomen making her unable to stop. she'll apologize for her horny actions in the morning with extra kisses!

if you're awake enough to turn around though? oh, she goes insane.

puffy lips finding your own in an instant, the kiss sloppy and desperately uncoordinated. she goes at it like she's starved, like she'll die in her sleep if she doesn't kiss ( eat ) you right now. her thigh situates itself in-between yours to rub there, feeling the already sticky mess dripping from the fabric of your underwear onto her skin. she’s so grateful for every decision she took in her life that led her to wear shorts as PJs.

the movements don't have any pace or rhythm—she's too tired for that—but they don't stop, she doesn't want them to and the little sounds you make show that you don't want that either.

she feels your thighs clench around hers and the way your hand grips her shirt, the smooth skin on her thigh coated with arousal.

“that's good…” ellie slurred while the wet, messy open-mouthed kisses trail down your neck. they start to go a bit slower and less frequent than before as she grows more and more tired. the whiny sighs slipping from your lips sound like a lullaby to her barely conscious brain.

her panties are still soaked but her poor body can't keep going for longer. her own orgasm will have to wait until tomorrow because she's out like light the second you come.

night night. ♡

masterlist

[corroded-hellfire]

Food, Football, and Friends - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: With so many people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, it's no surprise things get a little chaotic.

Note: Happy Thanksgiving!

Warnings: chaos that is typical of this family, Eddie's breeding kink doesn't take a holiday off, Dustin is married to someone that is not Suzy sorry

Words: 3.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Not bothering to knock, Steve opens the front door to the Munson household and pops his head inside.

“This looks like a nice house,” he says as he pushes the door all the way open. “Might be able to steal something nice.”

A huff comes from behind him and Mia pushes in the house past her father. The six-year-old scowls as she leans down to unbuckle her shiny Mary Janes.

“We’re not thieves!” Her voice carries throughout the house, summoning the little person who has been waiting all day to see her.

“Miaaaaaa!” Eliza’s heavy tread thumps down the hallway as she runs into the living room at full speed. The friction of her white tights against the carpet halts her when she reaches her destination. 

Before Mia can answer, Steve crouches down in front of the youngest Munson. He frowns and tilts his head, a few chestnut locks falling in his eyes.

“What about me? Am I chop liver?” 

Your toddler giggles and leaps into her uncle’s arms. She wraps her arms around his neck for a hug, but before she can pull away, Steve stands up, hoisting her over his shoulder in an attempt to keep her from her best friend.

“Noooo!” Eliza whines, her little legs kicking. 

“Oh, fine,” Steve sighs as he lets her down.

Eliza straightens her black and white dress before looking up to see Wayne walk in the door right behind Nancy.

“Grandpa!”

“There’s my girl!”

Wayne scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her face. The small girl giggles and tries to push his face away, his scruff tickling her.

“Where’s Daddy?” Wayne asks.

“Dunno,” Eliza answers with a shrug.

“He’s outside,” Luke says as he strolls into the room.

Nancy can’t help but notice how her youngest’s face lights up when the twelve-year-old Munson walks into the room. She clamps her lips together, trying not to giggle at Mia’s adorable crush on Luke, acting like she doesn’t notice the hearts in the young redhead’s eyes.

“Should we lock him out?” Steve asks about your husband.

Wayne sighs. “Eh, he’s scrappy, he’ll find a way back in,” he says as he sets Eliza back down. 

The moment her feet hit the ground, the toddler runs over to Mia and throws her arms around the girl’s sparkly silver dress. Concentration on Luke broken, Mia laughs and falls to the ground with Eliza, giving her a hug in return. 

“Yeah,” Steve says as he watches the girls. “I think the little munchkin would let him in.” He nods towards Eliza.

“She can’t reach the door,” Danny points out to his dad.

“Eliza finds a way to do anything,” Luke says, his tone conveying all the experience he’s had in that regard.

Before anyone else can add to the conversation, the sound of clinking and clanging pots and pans rings out from the kitchen. Automatically, everyone's heads turn in that direction. 

“Shit!” Your voice echoes out into the living room.

Immediately, Nancy brushes past her husband, patting him on the chest as she goes by.

“Play nice,” she tells him as she continues into the kitchen. The sight before Nancy has her biting her lip to keep in a grin for the second time in a matter of minutes. There you stand, holding a pot lid in one hand, holding the top of your head in the other. Your friend cocks an eyebrow at you. “Everything okay in here?”

Lamely, you raise the pot lid and give her a small wave with it.

“Gave myself a concussion looking for this so the mashed potatoes better taste damn near perfect.”

“I’m sure they will,” Nancy assures you, coming closer to take the lid out of your hand. She gently sets it on the pot simmering on the stove and turns back to you. “Anything I can do to help?”

Steve’s voice booms out from the living room before you can respond.

“You’re on, Munson!”

Eyes rolling skyward, you heave a sigh and shake your head.

“Keep our husbands from injuring themselves before dinner?” you ask.

“I’m afraid not.” Nancy winces. It’s an impossible task, you both know that.

As you open the refrigerator to grab the milk, Luke runs into the room–never one for just walking–with a grin on his face. 

“We’re going to play football!” he announces.

You raise an eyebrow as you measure out the cup of milk to add to the mashed potatoes.

“Who exactly is ‘we?” you ask.

“Me, Ryan, Theo, Danny, Uncle Steve, Grandpa, Daddy…and uh, maybe Natalie.”

The mention of your husband has you turning to give your son your full attention, letting the measuring glass of milk clank down on the counter.

“Your father is going to play football?”

“He’s gonna try,” Luke says with a mischievous snicker. You completely agree with your sports-loving son’s disbelieving and amused tone. You’re not even sure Eddie knows what the different positions in football are called.

“Is that what he and Steve were bickering about?” Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the edge of the kitchen table.

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Mia is gonna stay in the living room with Liza.”

“Luke, come on!” Theo calls out.

“My daughter is a little mother hen,” Nancy says with a smile as Luke runs out to join his new team. Mia may be the youngest sibling in her family, but that means she takes the responsibility of having a toddler best friend very seriously. 

Noise clatters from your backyard and you take a few steps to look out the large window over the kitchen sink. Through it, you can see Steve and Eddie standing next to each other, pointing at the mass of children that are in front of them—all of them except Ryan and Natalie.

“Come on, it will be fun,” Ryan says from the next room just as you’re wondering about him.

The unmistakable sigh of a teenage girl is heard before Natalie agrees, “Fine.”

Their footsteps fade out the door and Nancy raises her brow at you.

“I’m impressed,” she says. “No one can get Natalie to do anything anymore.”

“Hormones?” you ask, turning back to the stove as some boiled water sloshes over the side of a pot. The steam hisses and floats off into the air.

“Oh, yeah. Having a teenage daughter is great.”

“Oof, I do not miss being a teenager,” you say.

“What, you stopped, like, last year?” 

You spin around to see Nancy smirking at you, and you whip your kitchen towel at her in an attempt to wipe the shit eating grin off her face. She laughs and swats the rag away, affectionately wrapping an arm around your waist as she comes to stand beside you.

“Come on, now let me help you,” she chides.

“Fine,” you relent. “Want to chop those carrots?”

“No problem.”

Loud footfalls stampede towards the kitchen, but they’re not quite as heavy as Eliza’s usually are, so you’re not surprised when Mia comes racing into the kitchen. One of these times these running children are going to hurt themselves.

“Auntieeee?” she asks you as she comes to a stop.

“Miaaaaaa?”

“Eliza is hungry,” she tells you. “Can I get her a snack?”

“Sure thing, cutie.” You wipe your hands off on the towel and walk over to the pantry. The Cheerio box is right at eyelevel as you reach for it and hand it to Mia. “Just make sure she doesn’t eat too many, okay?”

“Okay!” she calls over her shoulder as she runs out with the box.

Just as you’re about to reach for a knife, the doorbell rings. You head out to the living room, smiling when you see Eliza and Mia sitting in front of the television, sharing Cheerios and watching the rerun of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The big Snoopy balloon passes by as you grab the doorknob. There stand Lucas and Max with their daughter Tiffany, and Dustin with his wife Anne and their baby girl, Molly. The moment she sees you, Tiffany launches herself forward with a squeal. She wraps her arms around your hips and hugs herself against your body.

“Well, hello there,” you greet her. To allow everyone else into the house, you pick up the six-year-old and take a few steps back from the door. “You wanna join Eliza and Mia?” When she nods, you let Tiffany down to go join the other girls.

The moment your arms are free, you’re being pulled into more hugs with everyone and wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. Last but not least, you pluck Molly from her mother’s arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t believe how big she is!” you coo. Now well over a year old, the last time you saw the youngest Henderson was when she was nine months. 

Dustin grabs her walker from the car, since she’s still new to the whole walking thing and not the steadiest. He sets it down in the living room and you plop her down in the Minnie Mouse themed rover. She instantly takes off in the direction of the television, as if knowing she wants to be a part of this little girl gang.

“Eliza?” you call. “Do you want to come say hi?”

It takes her a second, but finally, Eliza finishes the Cheerio that’s in her hand and pushes herself up on to her feet. She toddles over, smiling when she sees her Aunt Max—who is arguably her favorite person who is not a Munson or Harrington. Her aunt gives her a big hug. Then, Eliza stops in front of Dustin. Saying nothing, she just stares up at him, her big brown eyes blinking a few times.

“Hi, Eliza!” When your daughter doesn’t answer, Dustin kneels down to be at her level. “Remember me? Uncle Dustin?”

She just keeps staring.

Lucas laughs at the little girl’s nonreaction and snatches her up into his own arms. “Mwah!” he presses a kiss to her cheek. Instantly, Eliza grins and wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.

Dustin pouts up at the scene before him, lower lip jutting out dramatically as he stands back up.

“Hey! I’m the cool uncle!” he protests. And it’s true; if the other kids were in the house right now, they’d all be climbing over Dustin until the poor man gets lost in a sea of children.

“Guess not anymore,” Lucas says with a shrug.

“It’s gotta be because I live further away,” Dustin argues. “She sees me less.”

“Sure,” Lucas says, his tone far from sincere.

Max rolls her eyes at the two men’s bickering, presumably tired of it after hearing it for almost a decade and a half. The redhead takes Eliza from her husband’s arms and turns to face Dustin’s wife.

“These stilly boys,” Max says to Eliza. “Say hi to your Aunt Anne?”

Your daughter gives a small wave, but it’s clear from the blank look on her face that she just wants to be put down to go back to Mia. Sensing this as well, Max grants her wish.

“Where’s Ed?” Dustin asks.

“In the backyard,” you say. “Playing football.”

“Football?” Dustin almost chokes on his own spit out of shock.

“I know,” you say.

“I have to see this,” Lucas says, looking towards the back door and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

He and Dustin go to join the game in the backyard while Max and Anne follow you into the kitchen. Nancy greets the new arrivals while you take up your previous position at the stove. As you lift the lid off the pot on the back burner, you listen to the women behind you talking and laughing. It brings a smile to your face to be surrounded by women friends. Besides a two-year-old, the only others in the house are guys. And as much as you love them, it’s not the same as having other ladies around.

Two sets of running feet zoom past the kitchen and the sound of the squeaky hinges on the backdoor let you know the two six-year-olds have gone to join the fun outside. You peek back out the window and chuckle to yourself when you see Mia and Tiffany cheering on the sidelines. Unsurprisingly, they seem to be cheering for the team that Luke is on. Mia’s idea, no doubt.

There are only a few more potatoes to add to the pot in front of you, so once those are in you go out into the living room to check on the younger girls. A gasp strangles out of you when you first see the two. Then as your brain has a moment to adjust and see that everything is okay, you break out into laughter.

“What did you do, little girl?” you ask your daughter. You shake your head in amusement as you walk over to the two of them, both covered in Cheerios that are also scattered around the living room floor.

Eliza grins up at you, small pieces of Cheerios still sticking to her baby teeth.

“Molly hungry!” she tells you.

“Oh, okay,” you say with a nod. “So, you thought to give her a snack like Mia did for you?”

“Mhmm!” She sounds quite proud of herself, and it makes your heart melt.

“Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Laughter erupts from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Max walking into the room. She takes in the mess before her and looks between the two babies.

“What’re you troublemakers doing?” she asks as she comes up beside you. 

A timer in the kitchen drags your attention away from the conversation and Max waves you on in that direction.

“Go ahead, take care of that. I’ll clean this up, then take these two outside. They can be the referees.”

“Thank you.” You give Max’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze as you walk past her.

Back in the kitchen, you turn off the timer and pull the green bean casserole out of the oven. 

Cheers ring in from the backyard, bringing a smile to your face. Anne steps up to look out the window at everyone.

“I think I’m going to go make sure no one is doing anything stupid,” she says.

“Nurse is never off duty, huh?” Nancy asks with a smile.

When Anne steps out of the room, you turn to Nancy and raise an eyebrow. 

“She wants to make sure no one is doing anything stupid?” you ask. “She clearly doesn’t know that is most of what our husbands do.”

Nancy laughs and nods her head in agreement.

“We should keep her here as an on-call nurse.”

“She’d be busier here than in the ER,” you joke. 

You and Nancy work silently side by side for a little while, before Nancy notices you starting to buzz around the kitchen more, a hectic mood settling over you. She licks over her lips before looking in your direction.

“Is something burning?” she asks.

“What?”

You whip your head around to stare at her before looking at the stove. 

“Smell it?” she asks, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her hands off on.

You take a few deep inhales, and a frown pinches your face.

“No,” you admit.

“That’s because there’s nothing burning,” Nancy says, taking a few steps closer to you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye. “But it got you to take some deep breaths. Take a few more, okay?”

Catching on to her scheme, you narrow your eyes at her as you do indeed take a few more deep breaths.

“You’re sneaky,” you tell her.

“I have to be with four kids,” she replies. 

It’s not long before the game outside comes to an end and people start coming back into the house in waves. Eddie finally comes in and your heart stutters in your chest when you see him. His face is flushed from the exertion, his breathing a little labored for the same reason. His hair is frizzier than usual and when he comes closer to you, you can feel the chill coming off of him. It’s only confirmed when you put your hands on his cheeks and feel how cool they are to the touch. His smile makes you dizzy, not even registering how cold his lips are against yours when he leans in for a kiss.

“Everything smells good,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Did you win?” you ask, reluctantly going to check on the turkey.

His sigh tells you the answer before his words do.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles.

Both you and Nancy share a chuckle as he sulks out of the room. Ryan pops in right after, going over to the sink to wash his hands. His face is flushed like his father’s, but his hair is faring far better. Wayne, Theo, and Danny come in behind your son and Wayne goes into the fridge to grab water bottles for all the boys.

“Can I help?” Ryan asks you as he dries his hands.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You press a kiss to his head as you slip by him to grab the salt. “Do you want to get started on the stuffing?”

“Sure.”

Danny wrinkles up his nose as he takes a sip of his water.

“Cooking is for girls,” the eight-year-old declares.

“Danny!” Nancy immediately snaps. 

“Hey,” Wayne says, nudging the boy on the shoulder. “I was a cook in the army. That don’t sound girly, does it?”

Danny shakes his head, looking cowed.

“No,” he says softly.

“What do you say?” Nancy asks.

“I’m sorry.”

Ryan ruffles the boy’s hair before pretending to spill the bowl of breadcrumbs he’s carrying all over him. Danny laughs and runs away before Ryan can actually make a mess of him.

“Hey, all available squirts!” Eddie calls from the next room.

“I’m not available,” Ryan mumbles, obviously not keen on whatever his father has planned.

Luke trails into the kitchen and looks around, confused like he hasn’t lived there for years.

“Uh, I’m supposed to set the table. Where’s the stuffs?” he asks.

“By yourself?” you ask, showing him where you already have the cookery and cutlery out and ready to go.

“Nope.” 

Luke lets out a small chuckle but before you can ask what’s so funny, Mia follows in behind him. It’s clear she volunteered to be your son’s assistant.

“I’m here to help!” she announces. 

Carefully, you load up both kids with as much as you think they’re able to handle. Luckily, a parade of other small humans comes in to finish the job.

“Quite the operation you’ve got going here,” you say to your husband as you step into the dining room. “Putting the kids to work.”

“They’re my elves,” he says with a shrug. 

You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen.

Ryan and Natalie amble in, neither looking too happy. Eddie doesn’t ask why; he knows they’ll tell him.

“I don’t want to sit at the kids�� table,” Ryan whines. For a fourteen-year-old, Eddie thinks Ryan gripes more than his literal baby sister.

Natalie looks at the adult table, then at the kids’ table. There are nine chairs seated at each and she’s clearly trying to figure out how two can be added to the larger table.

“Me neither,” she says while mentally calculating. 

Lucas steps into the room behind the teens and Eddie sees a great opportunity. 

“Okay, you guys can sit with us,” he tells them. “As long as you contribute to the conversation.”

“Really?” Natalie asks, instantly perking up. It amazes Eddie how quickly she goes from looking like Wednesday Addams to Pippi Longstocking.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He looks over at his former Hellfire Club member and nods at him. “By the way Lucas, did you see that the DOW is down three points today?”

Lucas doesn’t miss a beat.

“Huh,” he muses. “You know, I was just talking to my broker about that over a rousing game of golf. He suggested I take another look at my portfolio.”

“Ugh fine, we’ll sit at the kids’ table,” Ryan groans.

The two of them slink off to the other side of the room as Eddie and Lucas share a quiet laugh.

“Don’t even know if I got all the terms right,” Lucas admits.

Eddie, Ryan, Nancy, and Max all help you take the food out to the table—well, tables. Eliza watches it all as Wayne settles her in her highchair at the kids’ table. She’s practically salivating as her chocolate eyes move from dish to dish. Even Mia taking the seat between her and Luke doesn’t take her attention from her dinner. 

Annie settles Molly into her own highchair—Eliza’s old one that she outgrew. When Eddie had gotten it out of the garage both of you got a little misty-eyed that your daughter is getting so big.

The turkey is placed at the head of the table, right in front of Eddie’s seat. He picks up the large carving knife and Luke over-dramatically gasps from his place at the kids’ table. You finish scooping some mashed potatoes onto Eliza’s plate and playfully tug on one of Luke’s curls.

Eddie glances up from time to time, watching as you make sure each kid has a little bit of everything on the plate in front of them. 

“You’re gonna lose a finger, boy,” Wayne warns. The older man smiles though, at the way his nephew looks at his wife. 

Eddie sets the knife down and discreetly pops the wishbone out of the bird. If he doesn’t set it aside now all the kids will be arguing over it and Eddie isn’t sure there’s enough wine in the house to deal with that. This way, Eddie can show the kids the carved-up turkey and point to where the wishbone “should be” and shrug, telling them they’re out of luck. He looks forward to using it with you after the kids go to bed. 

You giggle as Molly reaches up and puts a dab of cranberry sauce on your nose. Eddie grins as he watches you. He had thought that seeing you with a baby wouldn’t hit him in quite the same way after Eliza was born, but it hasn’t quelled the yearning. 

Taking advantage of the kids grabbing the rolls in a frenzy, he slips the wishbone into his pocket. He already knows what his wish will be.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 the way i loved you : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

but i miss screaming and fighting, and kissing in the rain.

warnings: use of y/n (one time), no cabin mentioned for reader.

She keeps telling herself: this is just the way life goes, this is how it was supposed to be, it is the right thing to do. Because loving someone should never feel difficult, it should never feel like a task.

Right?

At least she and Percy had agreed on that. After so many fights and numerous cries, they had finally let each other go. Because it is the right thing to do, because they were not right for each other. Right?

They couldn't be, Percy was always so busy with everything going on in his life that he slowly forgot how to make time for her, and she couldn't blame him. Really, she couldn't. He was always getting roped into something new. But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel neglected, forgotten.

He had tried to mend it the first time they talked about it. Of course he did, Percy would never break her heart intentionally. But something always got in the way.

And the fights started, the crying started. They couldn't find a way to understand each other and so, they finally decided the best way was to simply let each other go.

But if that was the right thing to do, why does it feel so... wrong?

If it was the right thing, why does it break her heart every time they cross paths around camp, every time she sees his smile and knows it isn't directed to her anymore? why does it hurt every time she hears his voice nearby? why is it so hard to let go when it had been so difficult to hold on in the first place?

She's glad when summer ends and it's time for her to go home, maybe that's what she needs. A fresh break. Away from camp. Away from his charming smile and shining sea-green eyes.

Back home, back to school, she can pretend she's just another girl. No broken heart. No demigod duties. Just her trying to understand her classes and have her homework ready on time. She doesn't even bother trying to make friends, that never ends good well demigods.

That is, of course, until he comes into her life.

She had been struggling with math, her adhd definitely didn’t make it any easier. So after a failed test and many homework assignments graded poorly, she gets assigned a tutor.

And she goes along with it, even if she thinks it's going be a lost cause, because no way someone can help her understand all those numbers and letters.

But Ben is sweet and willing even from the first time they met.

She arrived like two minutes later and was ready to mutter apologies, but he only smiles at her and gestures to the empty chair beside him. "You must be... y/n? sorry, I'm not good with names, but I'm good at math and that's what i'm here to help you with. So, not all hope is lost."

That makes her smile, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing up as she takes a seat beside him.

"Oh, i'm Ben, by the way."

And from then on, the sessions become part of her routine. Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, she automatically makes her way to the library to meet Ben, who's always waiting for her with a smile. Slowly, she stops dreading math and understanding it.

Or at least she tries to.

"I just don't understand, if there’s already x why do I need a y too?" She raises her eyebrow at the homework as if the piece of paper has offended her in some way.

Ben, as always, remains patient and smiles. He's always so patient, so gentle and sweet. "You just have to stop overthinking it" he says before launching into full explanation.

And she understands, which is mind-blowing the first few times because she had never once understood the explanations the teachers gave her. But with Ben it's easy, he goes over everything with patience, he points things out in a way that make sense in her brain.

And he trusts her, so she figures that maybe she should trust herself too. For the next test, she can only repeat his words to herself: just stop overthinking.

The next thursday, when she gets the test back, she can barely wait until the end of the school day to go running to the library, holding the paper to his face so he can see the score.

"You passed!" He beams, taking the paper from her hands. "I knew you could do it."

He holds his hand up for a high-five, and the gesture makes her pause for a second, her thoughts circling back to Percy. She can remember how he was always the first one cheering whenever she got something right in training, and he would always come running to her, holding his hand for a high-five— except every time she tried to reach it, he would instead swoop her in his arms.

His arms. Sometimes, she misses his arms. The comfort and security of being held by him.

"Barely." She replies, trying to shake her thoughts away. "But I did! I could hang that in my room, pass it down to generations so they see I passed a math test."

"I knew you were a secret genius." Ben teases, playfully tugging on her braid when she sits down beside him.

"Oh, you're such a flatterer" She rolls her eyes playfully. "So, what are we learning today, tut?"

And they easily go back to their math lessons, joking and discussing their days in between equations. Easy. So easy, she can almost pretend to forget about Percy as the hours pass in that small spot in the library.

It comes a few days after that, it's simply a tuesday afternoon and everything is going as smoothly as always, when he suddenly put his pencil down to turn towards her.

"Sooo... did you hear about this new superhero movie?" He asks, and it's such a sudden change of topic that she needs a second to realize what he's doing.

She doesn't like superhero movies too much, but she hums. "Yep, heard about it." from Percy, who had been super excited to see it.

"I'm going to see it this weekend, maybe you'd like to tag along?" He asks, and she finally notices how nervous he looks.

Ben is asking her out. And she should say yes. She should. He's easy to be with, kind, sweet. Yet— "Oh I just don't like superhero movies that much" she mumbles, shrugging softly.

But that's not the truth. She knows it's not. If Percy was asking, she wouldn't mind watching it with him. She would enjoy it, even. But doing it with someone else— it somehow feels like cheating, which is ridiculous since they've been broken up for at least three months now.

Ben looks disappointed when she finally looks at him, and she feels the weird need to fix it. "But if there’s any other movie you're interested in seeing, I'm available." And he smiles. And it's so easy. So easy.

Why does it feel wrong?

"How about we go and see which other movies they have?" He offers and when she nods, his smile only widens. "consider it a date then— unless that's weird. In which case, no, consider it a uh, platonic equation. Totally normal stuff."

And she laughs again. Easy.

"It's a date."

So they go on a date, they end up agreeing on a comedy movie. And they laugh, share popcorn and snacks. After that, he gets ice cream for her and they go for a walk. Simple. He's nice. He's sweet. Easy.

So why is she still thinking about Percy?

It gets worse as the days tick closer to her return to camp, because as much as she enjoys the math lessons and the nice dates, why is she still thinking about sea-green eyes and sarcastic grins?

"What are your plans for summer?" Ben asks one day, they're going over everything they need for the last math test.

"Summer camp." She replies, and her heart almost jumps out of her chest. Almost as if the traitor knew that the word camp was associated with Percy.

He nods, seeming almost... disappointed? No, it can't be, because he quickly smiles at her. "That sounds fun, will you be gone all summer?"

"Yeah." She replies, scribbling a silly sea lion in the margins of her notes. "There’s no phone signal either. Kinda... isolated. But mostly fun." and home.

"Sounds mysterious, should I be worried?" He teases with a chuckle. "Are you a spy?"

She laughs, but she's just glad he drops the topic after a few more questions because she runs out of ways to hide what camp really is, what it really means to her.

And she doesn't know if it's because she's dreading it or because she's secretly excited, but the next weeks pass by flying and the start of summer comes quickly.

She manages to pass all her tests. Packs her bag. Puts on her jacket. Says her goodbyes to her family. Everything ready.

Saying goodbye to Ben should feel difficult. It should be harder. After all the dates, the tutoring sessions, the laughs and the quiet understandings— saying goodbye should feel like something.

But her heart doesn’t break, instead it's almost jumping with excitement at the opportunity to go back. And she knows it has nothing to do with camp itself.

That's why, when Ben comes to see her just before she has to leave, she already knows.

He stands awkwardly at her porch, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a to-go coffee cup with her name misspelled. "I thought you might need one for the way."

He's so sweet. So painfully sweet. That it's hard for her to even smile as she takes the cup from him. "Thanks."

There’s a pause. Silence hangs between them as she finally decides it's time to finally give him the truth— or at least, part of it. He deserves that.

"I- you know, I've been thinking about this." she awkwardly gestures between them. "us." and he nods as she takes a deep breath. "You're great, Ben. I like being with you. But I don't think I could see you as more than a friend. I just can't—" be with someone else.

When she falls silent, he nods, in such an understanding way that she hates herself for hurting him, for not being able to give him what he wants.

Why can't she? why can't she simply be with him? if it feels so easy. Why?

"It's okay." he replies softly. "I kinda figured."

She's distracted by her own thoughts, trying to make sense of them. But her gaze immediately snaps towards him. "You did?"

"When you talked about camp, you tried to make it sound like it meant nothing, but you smiled when you talked about it. And it didn’t look like you were smiling for a place... But rather for a person."

Her gaze drifts down to her shoes, frustrated. Why does she still smile when she thinks of Percy? they were difficult, they agreed they didn’t work.

Ben offers her a smile when she looks up again. "I think you should stop being scared of your feelings. If there’s a chance that person wants to be with you... you should take it."

"Why are you telling me this? shouldn't you be mad at me? for hurting you?" She tilts her head, confused. And she knows she's just trying to change the topic, because she doesn't want to think about her real feelings, she'd rather focus on him.

Ben seems to notice what she's doing, his smile softens. "That time we spent together wasn't a waste of time for me, I made a new friend, didn’t I? and as your friend, I think you deserve to love someone that makes you feel everything. Not just someone who's easy to be with."

When they finally say their goodbyes, she realizes that maybe she does feel sad about it. It isn't heartbreak, not even close. But it's the kind of sadness that tugs on her chest, the kind that comes from parting ways with someone who you consider a friend, someone who made a hard moment a little gentler.

"Don't be a stranger." He hugs her, and for the first time she allows herself to feel. Grateful. Happy that she got to know him.

"I won't." She says, and she means it.

Because he mattered. Maybe not in the way they both wanted it to matter, but he did.

The ride to camp is quiet, as peaceful as it can be with her head filled with thoughts, with her feelings screaming and begging to be heard. She listens to music, stares out the window and tries to ignore the ache in her chest.

It's suprising to arrive and find that it's raining at camp. But she ignores it, probably Zeus throwing a tantrum. She tightens her grip on her backpack and pulls her hoodie over her head as she walks.

There’s demigods scattering towards their cabins, running to greet each other when they arrive. She feels empty as her eyes scan the crowd to try and find him. But Percy's nowhere to be seen, he's probably arriving later. And it shouldn't mean anything to her.

She forces herself to stop looking for him and instead walk towards her cabin when the rain starts getting harder, soaking through her hoodie.

But her feet stop just before she can reach her cabin.

Because standing there, just in front of her cabin, also completely soaked, is Percy.

The rain keeps falling. The wind picks up. And they look at each other, both frozen in their spots. And when their gazes find their way together, time stops.

He's takes the first step towards her, then a second one, hesitant, as if waiting for her to say or do something. And she can't. She doesn't know how to. Until she does. It's simply a step towards him, then a second one. As if they're dancing together, towards each other.

And suddenly, they're in each other's arms and he's kissing her. His lips melt oh so perfectly against hers. And it's like coming home all at once.

He pulls away first— well, he barely pulls away. His lips still brush hers as he rests his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing in the small space between them.

"I tried. I swear I tried." Percy whispers, raindrops falling down his hair. "I tried to walk away and pretend it was the right thing to do, but I can't do it anymore. Nothing feels the same without you."

His hands cup her face, his nose brushes hers, and he exhales shakily before continuing. "I got so caught up in everything, in all those quests and responsibilities, trying to help everyone. And I forgot that the most important part of it all, the one that always deserved my time, was you."

Her hands tighten softly against the fabric of his drenched shirt, grounding herself in him.

"And I won't let that happen again, I swear I won't ever let that happen again." his sea-green eyes find hers, and Gods, how much has she missed those eyes. "And I'll work through it every day. And maybe it'll be difficult. But I swear that I won't ever again risk losing you. I just can't. I won't."

And that's when she understands. She had been so hell bent into walking away because loving someone should never feel difficult, she had tried to convince herself that it was the right thing to do. And now, now she sees it shouldn't be that way.

Because maybe love isn't supposed to be about how easy or how difficult it is. Maybe love it's about choosing each other over and over, maybe it's about working hard through the difficulties instead of giving up.

"I want that too." She whispers against his lips. "Even if it's difficult, we'll work through it."

And when he kisses her again, it feels like a vow, the promises lingering in between them. They'll get through anything, even if it's hard. Especially if it's hard.