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omgeto · 1 year

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☆ WHEN YOU BREAK UP AND MAKE UP — NANAMI KENTO

summary: fed up with your stagnant marriage, you serve your husband divorce papers as a final cry to show you're tired of his behaviour. but you forget that, although he doesn't always show it, your husband never goes down without a fight.

w/c: 3.5k

cw: angst to fluff, nanami may come across as an asshole but he means it with love, plot with a dash of porn at the end, so mdni!!, semi-public sex (you fuck in an elevator) afab!reader

authors note: first fic on the new blog (wild) but I actually really fw this fic, hope you all do to. not fully proof read so ignore mistakes!!

nanami's footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway as he approaches your apartment. his heart pounds against his ribs, a mixture of irritation, confusion, and hurt swirling within him. he had seen the divorce papers, his name scrawled across the top in bold letters, and the shock has left him simmering with resentment.

with a determined exhale, he raises his hand and knocks on your door. the door swings open, revealing his surprised expression. his eyes widen as he takes in your clenched jaw and the tension etched into your features.

"kento," your voice wavers, a mix of surprise and something he can't quite place.

"i didn't expect to find divorce papers on my desk at work," he bites out, his tone sharp and impatient.

your cheeks flush slightly, your gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet his stare. "it got your attention, didn't it?" you retort, your voice tinged with exasperation.

"attention?" nanami's voice drips with sarcasm. "you think serving me divorce papers at my job is the way to solve our problems?"

"you've been distant, nanami," your voice holds a trace of weariness. "we've been living separate lives for weeks. i needed you to know that something has to change."

nanami's irritation flares, his patience wearing thin. "dropping divorce papers on my desk is your way of communication now?"

"you've brushed me off every time i've tried to talk," your voice holds a hint of frustration, your eyes betraying a simmering anger. "maybe this is the only language you'll understand."

nanami's annoyance collides with a stubborn resistance, his grip on his emotions hardening. "you know i've been busy," he states curtly.

"busy ignoring me," your voice is edged with bitterness, your expression growing weary.

nanami's frustration deepens, and he steps closer, his gaze unwavering. "you could have talked to me."

you look away, your jaw clenched. "tried that." he reaches out to you but you brush him off, backing out of his space.

you didn’t know what the exact turning point of your marriage was, but once it came it was overwhelming, swept you both up in a whirl of frustration. nanami didn’t feel like yours anymore – he was a shell of the guy you married. there were no more morning kisses, gentle touches, or late-night talks that once filled your lives. the silence in your shared space became a chasm, widening with each passing day. you pleaded for his attention, for a connection, but it was as if he was slipping away, becoming a stranger.

"you’ve taken this game of yours too far," he scoffs, disbelief and a hint of frustration in his voice. nanami had never imagined it would come to this – the thought of you leaving him was a reality he was struggling to accept. he wasn't blind to the shifts in your relationship, the growing distance, but he had convinced himself that it was a phase. a bad period that could be smoothed out with a little time and patience.

when you gathered your belongings and walked away, nearly a month ago now, he allowed you to go, certain that this was just a phase, a moment of frustration that would pass.

"i thought we were just going through a rough patch," he continues, his voice carrying a self-assured edge. "didn't think you'd take it to this extreme. you really tried to embarrass me at work with that shit, everybody saw y’know, my colleagues, my boss.”

your eyes narrow at his response, the frustration that had simmered inside you starting to boil over. "It's not a game, nanami. this isn't some ploy for attention."

“so you’ve given up on me then? on us?” he asks incredulously, stepping closer to you, studying your face.

your gaze holds his, determination mixing with the hurt that still lingers. "i didn't want to give up, but i can't keep holding on to something that's slipping away."

nanami's eyes search yours, a moment of vulnerability flickering across his features before he masks it with his trademark confidence. "you think i'll just let you go that easily?"

you meet his gaze head-on, the tension between you palpable. "it's not about whether you'll 'let' me. it's about whether we're both willing to put in the effort to fix what's broken."

his smirk fades, his gaze intense as he studies you. "and? are you willing?"

nanami didn’t realise how silent his home was without you in it. when he returned, he sat in silence, the weight of your ultimatum sinking in. ‘it’s not a game nanami’ your previous words repeatedly echo through his mind. he had always prided himself on his rationality, on his ability to see things logically, but when it came to you, it was an unfamiliar territory,

he had grown accustomed to the routine of his life, the predictable patterns that had lulled him into a sense of complacency. he had convinced himself that the distance between you two would eventually close on its own. and now, confronted with the reality of your departure, he couldn't deny the truth any longer.

“you’ve really fucked this up nanamin,” gojo lectures over the phone to nanami, “you deserved getting embarrassed at your job.”

“i didn’t call you to be told off,” nanami says, pinching his nose “i called for you to tell me what to do.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” gojo questions, “you know what she wants.”

“If i did, i wouldn’t be on the phone with you, would i?” nanami snaps, frustration brewing.

“she wants the guy she married.” gojo states, ignoring nanami’s tone.

“I am that guy,” there was a pause, as if nanami could see gojo’s pointed look through the phone, “well i thought i was that guy. but i know she doesn’t want to divorce me for real, she loves me.”

“does she though?” gojo questions, “remember nanamin, i was there when you guys got married, the way she looked at you then… isn’t how she looks at you now.”

nanami ends the call abruptly, pacing around his living room. gojo’s words sticking in his mind. he had reached out to his friend seeking guidance, but it’s becoming evident that the answers he’s seeking might not be as straightforward as he had hoped.

gojo’s words struck a nerve, he was right. nanami remembers the early days of your relationship, the excitement, the adoration - the way your eyes would light up when you looked at him. but now, the distance, the hurt, it was evident.

he was going to make things right, he had to. you were his wife - his soulmate. he’s known that from the day he laid eyes on you, and he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasp.

it had been months since you served nanami the divorce papers – he was stalling. you couldn’t deny that he was trying though, the daily flowers that you received, the take out that was delivered to your house without you asking, was a testament to that.

you got daily calls, texts and emails from him asking you about your day, about your wellbeing. he was showing you that he cared, and it was as if he was courting you all over again.

his efforts didn’t go unnoticed, your friends and family could see the subtle smiles you couldn’t suppress and the softening of your eyes when his name was mentioned. they hoped for your sake that nanami would keep consistent.

you felt hopeful, and that made you feel dumb.

but you just needed one more push to feel secure, to feel like this would work – would last. which is why you were standing in the lobby of your lawyers office, your feet tapping nervously against the floor as you wait for your husband to arrive.

“hi, my love,” he greets, the familiar pet name coming out like a whisper, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, “i guess we should head up there.”

“yeah, lead the way,” you say, your tone warmer than you expect as you take in his appearance. he was dressed in one of his signature crisp suits, in fact it was your favourite suit of his, and he was wearing the hell out of it.

you follow him to the elevator, the hallway stretching ahead as you both walk side by side. you haven’t felt like this in a long time, like a pair, a union. nanami’s presence beside you is both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the life you once shared and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

“we don’t have to go this meeting you know,” nanami forces out, but you ignore him pushing the button of the floor you need to be at.

“love listen, it doesn’t have to be this way,” he persists.

“and what way is it kento?” you argue, “just because you’ve been sending me flowers, and asking me how i am each day, doesn’t mean you’ve magically became husband material again.”

“trust me, i know that.” he scoffs, “you’re a real piece of work bu-”

“and you’re a real piece of sh-” you start, stopping yourself as you realise that you were the one going too far.

“as i was saying,” he continues, “you’re a real piece of work, but you’re worth it. you always have been, from the moment i met you i knew you were going to cause me trouble but i ended up loving you for that.”

“well tell that to your actions for the past–” you pause, feeling the elevator coming to an abrupt stop, “why did the elevator just close… the last thing i need right now is to be trapped.”

nanami's gaze shifts to the control panel, his eyebrows furrowing. "looks like we're stuck."

you glance at him, your heart racing for a different reason now. "stuck?"

nanami's eyes meet yours, his smirk undeniably playful. "Seems like fate has its own plans for us," he remarks, his tone holding a hint of amusement.

you roll your eyes, unable to suppress a small smile despite the circumstances. "great, just what I needed today."

he chuckles, his fingers expertly unbuttoning his cuffs as he begins to roll up his sleeves. "well, at least we have some time to ourselves. might as well make the most of it."

your eyebrows raise at his nonchalant attitude, your surprise momentarily replacing the irritation. "are you serious right now? we're stuck in an elevator, and you're acting like it's a casual evening at home?"

nanami's grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "why not? it's not like we can do much about the situation. might as well enjoy each other's company."

you huff out a breath, torn between annoyance and amusement. as you observe him making himself comfortable on the elevator floor, you can't help but shake your head. "you're unbelievable."

he pats the spot next to him, his inviting gesture a silent challenge. "come on, it's not so bad. we can reminisce about old times, or argue about who's the better cook."

you find yourself hesitating, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. with a resigned sigh, you take a seat beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. "old times, huh? you mean the days when you used to bring me breakfast in bed?"

nanami's smile softens, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "yeah, and you'd always complain that the eggs were overcooked."

“because they always were.” you retort, with a chuckle. you missed this, being in his space without any of the extra noise.

“i can cook breakfast for you again,” he proposes, “if you just come home.”

“kento i don’t know if i-”

“do you remember our first date,” he interrupts, “my car broke down on the way home from the restaurant, so i put you on my back and carried you for 5 miles.”

“you carried my heels too,” you add, laughing softly to yourself at the memory. your first date with nanami solidified that he was the man for you, the way he shamelessly gave you a piggy back ride, heels and all.

nanami’s gaze locks with yours, his fingers gently grazing your hand “it was worth every step.”

a warmth spreads through your chest, a mix of nostalgia and a newfound vulnerability. "you used to be so sweet," you murmur, your voice laced with a bittersweet longing.

his fingers inch closer, your hands almost brushing against each other. "i can still be sweet, you know," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

your heart skips a beat, the air around you growing charged with unspoken emotions. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he tilts his head, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "maybe I've been out of practice."

as the silence settles between you, the confined space of the elevator seems to amplify the intensity of your connection. the past rushes back, the moments that you shared, the love that once flourished. but you're both here now, in the present, faced with the choice of whether to rebuild or let go.

nanami's fingers finally find yours, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "i want to make it right, to fix us," he admits, vulnerability lacing his words.

you meet his gaze, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. "It's not that simple, kento. we can't just go back to the way things were."

his thumb traces a soothing pattern on the back of your hand. "i know. but maybe we can start anew. rediscover each other, learn from our mistakes."

you study his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. maybe he had changed, maybe he was willing to put in the effort to mend what was broken. maybe, just maybe, there was hope for your relationship after all.

the elevator's walls seem to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. The past and the present merge, and as you search his eyes for any signs of deceit, you find none. only a genuine desire to make things right.

"i've missed you," he whispers, his voice holding a vulnerability that resonates within you.

“you swallow the lump in your throat, your grip on his hand tightening. "i've missed you too."

nanami's fingers burned with a mixture of yearning and desperation as they reached out to trace the curve of your cheek. his touch was electric, sending a surge of heat through your veins. your breath hitched in response, your heart pounding against your ribs as his thumb brushed over your skin.

his touch was no longer tentative; it was a declaration, a silent proclamation of his desire. the air seemed to crackle with tension as his gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark and smouldering.

"i've wanted to do this for so long," he confesses, his voice a low growl sending a shiver down your spine.

his fingers slide from your cheek to your jawline, his touch igniting a fire within you. the space between you seemed to vanish as he closed in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. your eyes flutter closed as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, his touch setting your skin ablaze.

and then, his lips crash onto yours with a fierce hunger that leaves you breathless. it was a kiss that ignites a wildfire, a blaze of emotions that had been suppressed for far too long. his lips moved against yours with a fervour that matched the intensity of his touch, a dance of passion and longing.

his arms encircle you, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepens. his mouth moves over yours with a possessive urgency, his tongue seeking entrance and igniting a fiery tangle of sensations. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and nostalgia.

your fingers claw at the fabric of his shirt, needing to feel him, to ground yourself in this moment. his body presses against yours, every contour and ridge igniting a cascade of sensations that pooled between your thighs.

his hands trail down your back, the touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. when he cups your hips and pulls you impossibly closer, a moan escaped your lips, swallowed by the intensity of the kiss.

as the kiss broke, your foreheads rest against each other, your breaths ragged and laboured. the air around you was thick with desire, the space between you charged with an unspoken promise.

"i need you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desperation.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head down for another searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of pent-up longing, of a love that refused to be extinguished. your bodies moulded together as if they were meant to fit perfectly, every touch a symphony of need and surrender.

“tell me you need me, love,” he gasps out, and you nod against him, “no i got to hear you say it.”

“i need you, i do,” you whimper against his lips, as his fingers slip below the waistline of your skirt, gently grazing your clit, “k-kento we can’t, have you forgotten where we are?”

“don’t tell me you’ve become shy whilst we’ve been separated,” he chuckles, smirking as he continues to toy with your pussy “you don’t remember all the times i’d have you bent over my desk in my office?”

you bite your lip at the memory, feeling yourself get wetter as nanami’s fingers enter you, his thumb pressing against your clit. nanami knew you inside and out, he knew how exactly where to touch, how to get you whine and writhe against him as you are now.

he took advantage of your exposed neck, biting and sucking against your collarbone as he continues to stroke your cunt. you were gushing over him, repeatedly clenching against his fingers, as he twists and pushes in and out of you.

“you always get so wet for me,” he praises, pulling his fingers out of you, his digits glistening coated with you. you can smell your own arousal from his hand as he grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at his lust filled eyes. “ride me.”

you didn’t need to be asked twice, you discard your skirt off on the elevator floor, as he unzips his pants. he strokes his dick as it gets harder just at the sight of you. he was back was against the wall, his legs sprawled out widely, the perfect opening for you to climb right into his lap.

you slid right onto him, letting out an exhale as he fills you. he presses a sloppy kiss against your lips as your cunt grips onto him. your hands dig into his shoulder as you bounce up and down on him, his hands having your hips in a firm hold to keep you in place.

nanami couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the way you were taking him in like you needed him, was a sight he could never get tired off. you were so pretty, all fucked out on his dick, your eyes glossed over in a daze, the only thing you were focused on was him.

“d’you see now why i could never let you go?” he teases, thrusting upwards into you as one of his hands trails up to caress your cheek, his thumb parting your lips, “because this pussy’s mine.”

he quickens his pace, eager to get you to come undone all over him, the way your movements became slower, lazier, he could tell you were nearly at your peak. you bite on his thumb, suppressing your moans, as his merciless thrust begin to become too much.

“m’close kento, i-it’s too much,”

“I know my love, you’re taking me so well,” he praises, pushing deeper into you, “just hold out for a bit longer.”

“i-i can’t i-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as you feel yourself release all over him. nanami groans out his head collapsing in your cleavage as he finishes inside of you, your juices mixing with his.

the only sounds that can be heard are you both trying to catch your breath. nanami keeps his head pressed against your tits, still inside of you. you toy with his hair pushing his hair back to leave a gentle kiss against his head, his arms tighten around you and it was as if you could feel him smile against you. you knew from then that you and your husband was going to be okay.

“kento?” your voice wavers, a mixture of uncertainty and hope lacing your words.

“yes? my love,” he responds, his gaze locked onto yours.

your heart flutters as you gather your courage, the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future intertwining in your chest. "I think we can cancel that meeting with my lawyer."

nanami's smile broadens, but it's different this time – it's a smile that carries the weight of understanding and a newfound determination. he holds your gaze, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes, a silent promise of change and rediscovery.

you eventually got out of that elevator and you didn’t go home to your separate apartments, you went home, together.

extra an: so guys what did you think?? first time writing for smut, and for nanami so if it’s shit spare me. but I love him and I’d never divorce him. DIVIDERS FROM @/CAFEKITSUNE !!

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami angst #nanami fluff #jjk smut #nanami smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami x you #nanami kento smut

13K notes · View notes

candy69gurl · 6 months

Note

hiii 🤗🤗 im new to your blog, i know you write dark fiction i was wondering if youd be open to some fluff? Like soft sex with sukuna?

Infernal Passion

Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, loss of innocence, size kink (Sukuna in true form with 2 dicks, 4 arms and abdomen mouth), mentions of violence (Sukuna eats humans but gentle only with you), use of nicknames, belly buldge, pussy eating, fingering (Sukuna has nails), nipple playing, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink, mentions of lactation

wc - 2.4K

ART NOT MINE !

"—Oh, Uraume, bring the new offering to me." Sukuna grumbles, his voice low and menacing. "Tie her up securely and make sure she knows her place. I won't tolerate any resistance from her." He smirks cruelly, savouring the thought of what's to come.

Uraume enters the room, dragging you by the arm, your eyes wide with fear.

Uraume ties you to a wooden post, leaving you bound and vulnerable. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your breathing has turned shallow, each gasp echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the many who faced the same fate as you.

"Ah, such a delicate little thing." Sukuna's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail of your body. "I can already taste the fear in your blood. It's going to be a delightful meal." He reaches out, gently running a finger down your cheek, his touch cold and calculating. "Such a sweet dessert after a huge feast."

"P-please d-dont eat me.. I-I don't want to die.. I beg of you", you plead, your body already limb under his gaze.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, studying your pleading expression. "Very well, I shall spare you this time." He leans in closer, his breath warming against your skin. "But you have to give me something in return.

"What do you have to offer me?" Sukuna asks, his gaze intense. "You must give me something truly valuable to earn my mercy today." He steps back, crossing his arms, and waits for your response.

You are trembling against his piercing gaze, words stuck in your throat.

"Yes, yes, I can tell you're frightened," Sukuna says mockingly, "but I assure you, I am quite patient. What do you think would please me enough to forget your insignificant life?" He watches you closely, examining your trembling form and the fear etched upon your face. "Perhaps your body could provide some sort of entertainment... Tell me, have you ever served a man before? Or perhaps multiple men?"

Tears stream down your face as you desperately search for words. "N-no." You whisper, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, "I am... pure, untouched." Your voice wavers, and you bite your lip nervously, hoping that your submission will be enough.

Sukuna's eyes gleam with interest as he studies your reaction. "Pure, are you? That could be intriguing." He takes a step closer, towering over you, his massive form looming over your tiny frame. "But I require more than just words, little one. Show me how much you value your life, and maybe I'll decide if it's worth keeping." He gestures Uraume towards his chamber, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Inside, you will find what I need. Fail me, and I will eat your heart and make you suffer until your last breath."

Uraume approaches you, their expression softening slightly as they untie the bonds restraining you. "Fear not, dear one. Lord Sukuna requires your purity intact." They whisper gently, helping you stand and guiding you towards the chamber, "We shall prepare you for his pleasure."

Within the chamber, a warm bath steams gently, and a pristine robe is laid out on a nearby stool. Uraume helps you undress and step into the water, washing away the dirt and fear clinging to your body. Their gentle hands work over your tense muscles, and their movements are confident and practiced.

As you relax in the warm water, Uraume carefully dries you off and helps you into the robe, adjusting the fabric to fall just right over your slender form. "You are ready now, dear one." Uraume's voice is calm and soothing, and their eyes never leave you. "Remember, you must please Lord Sukuna if you wish to live." They lead you back to the main room, where Sukuna awaits, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Well, well," Sukuna drawls, his gaze raking over your body. "Look at you, all cleaned up and ready for my pleasure." He runs a hand through his hair, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sukuna motions for you to approach the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as you move cautiously towards him. With a single swift motion, he removes your robe, revealing your innocence and vulnerability to him. "Ah, so tempting."

"You are merely a morsel in comparison to my size and strength, yet your innocence and fragility only add to your allure." Sukuna growls, his massive hands tracing gently down your slender frame. "And here I thought your kind were all tough and unyielding, but you are anything but. You're soft, delicate, and, oh, so delectable." As he speaks, he pulls you closer, your bodies pressing intimately together.

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, his erection pressing against your belly. "Your innocence is intoxicating, little one." He bends down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You taste fear and surrender, which only fuels his desire further. His fingers trail down to where your legs meet, hesitating for a moment before pushing on your legs.

Your eyes fail to meet his, a tender blush filling your cheeks.

"Such shyness is adorable." But you'll learn quickly that there is no escape from my desires." His red eyes devouring your innocence.

With that, he sinks to his knees, his tongue flicking out to taste your essence.

The great Ryomen Sukuna on his knees for a mere human like you, you think.

Your thighs shake, his tongue is huge, one slide is enough to cover your whole womanhood. He savours your shock and fear, letting them mingle with the sweet flavour of your arousal. "So good; you taste better than raw blood." He murmurs, licking and sucking at your tender flesh, driving you wild with both pleasure and terror.

You squirm and whimper against his tongue. "Ah, so sensitive." Sukuna growls, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of your arousal. "You're going to make me lose control, little one."

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise at your sensitivity, his tongue lapping up the flood of wetness that cascaded onto his face. This is unlike any human he has encountered before. He cannot remember experiencing such sensitivity from others. It makes him thirsty for more, for your submission and pleasure.

Your mewls and whimpers turn him on further. "Such sweet sounds. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna's voice is thick with lust, and his tongue never ceases its relentless assault on your sensitive core. He thrusts two thick fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls as you squirm beneath him, his nails brushing your walls drawing out moans from you, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

"A-ah, too much, Lord."

Sukuna groans low in his throat, fighting the urge to claim you right then and there. "If you can't handle that, how will you take my full length inside you?" He asks rhetorically, his fingers working in and out of you, stretching your wet heat in preparation.

Slowly, he eases himself free from his robes, his two massive members standing proud and eager. He positions himself at your entrance, taking a moment to let you feel the weight of his manhood pressing against your delicate folds. "Ready to accept what you owe me, little one?" A cruel smirk curves his lips, knowing you have no choice but to submit.

"Are you going to put both of them inside me?" You are terrified at the thought of his two lengths invading you.

"Don't worry, I won't," Sukuna responds, even though he wanted to push both his dicks inside you, the thought of your tender body feeling pain from it made him rebuff his thoughts. He gently guides his upper dick to your entrance.

Your thoughts are a mix of terror and confusion. You never imagined yourself in such a position—being taken by a powerful demon who holds your life in his hands. Yet, as he slowly pushes into you, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. You cannot help but wonder if this is how your end comes, consumed by this beast. But strangely, your body responds to him, arching into his touch, craving more even

You couldn't believe it. A creature of such immense power and cruelty is gentle with you. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the fear and violence that defined your encounter thus far. As he moves within you, you feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, yes, but also a strange sense of safety. It's an odd sensation to be at the mercy of a monster yet feel protected.

As he continues his slow, gentle thrusts, you can't help but wonder,

Was he capable of more than just cruelty and violence? Or was this just another part of his twisted game, designed to confuse and disorient you before claiming you completely?

"Feeling good, little bird?", he coos.

"Y-yes lord."

"Just for you, little bird. I'll be as gentle as silk." Sukuna whispers, his pace slowing down even further. His two hands hold your legs, and the third one strokes his ignored dick, a strange tongue formed from his hand slides against it. His fourth hand slides down to stroke your clit. The sudden burst of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

"It feels so good, Lord Sukuna."

"Good. Enjoy it while you can." His thumb circles your clit, tongue formed from his hand occasionally lapping at it making your body flinch, taunting you with orgasm and drawing it out until your core is begging for release.

"Please, I am going to release, my lord", you eyes pleading him to let you release.

"I know.." Sukuna's breath hitches,"I've never been so careful with anyone, especially a mere mortal." His voice dripped with arrogance.

His two shafts pulsated, straining for release.

He hisses at your tightness as you squeeze his dick, creaming it white. Your moans echo through the room.

"Ah, so sweet, hmph," he purrs.

Without missing a beat, Sukuna switches the shaft currently inside you with the one he was stroking. He leans down and takes the newly freed member into his abdominal mouth. The sight of his shaft being devoured by his cursed abdomen sends shivers down your spine.

Sukuna seems to notice the direction of your gaze."They both want to be in you, sweetheart. Perhaps not today... I shall claim you with one of my dicks only."

"Love you..," your tone barely audible.

"Love me?" Sukuna's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. This affection was unexpected, especially from someone he was about to devour a while ago. Yet, there is something intriguing about it. "Love? What do you know of love, little bird?"

He continues to move inside you, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last.

"I just know you are never going to hurt me. That's enough for me to love you."

Sukuna laughs cruelly, his hips moving faster now. His laughter echoes in the room, filled with both scorn and amusement. "Oh, how naïve you are. Perhaps I will love you back on one condition."

Your stomach bulges with each thrust, revealing a glimpse of his massive member. It moves in and out of you, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and pain.

With every thrust, your cheeks redden, and your eyes lock onto his.

"Will you be able to bear my child?"

You bite your already swollen lips, thinking your future with the curse king.

"Answer me!" Sukuna roars, slamming into you harder; his need for confirmation is overwhelming.

You swallow hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Yes! Yes, Lord Sukuna! I'll bear your child!"

"Good. You deserve my love then." Sukuna kisses your neck, then his tongue slides down your sternum to your breasts, his shaft disappearing entirely before re-emerging from between your legs.

"You'll bear my child, and you'll remember me every time you look at them. You'll remember your lord." Each word carries the weight of ownership, sealing your fate.

His eyes gleam with anticipation, imagining the sight of your breasts swelling with milk. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

"Imagine it, your nipples engorged, milk from them flowing freely. Yes, that would be lovely." His grip tightens on her hip, his thrusts becoming deeper and more possessive. His mouth sucks on your nipples while one of his hands pinches your nipples, thinking about how they would look, swollen and ready to feed his future kids. With each squeeze and suckle, you whimper, your body writhing beneath him. This is a future you never expected, but somehow, it excites you more than terrifies you.

His thrusts grow longer and slower, each one filled with possession and dominance. His mouth moves from one breast to the next, licking and sucking while his hand plays with the other.

"So close, are we?" His voice was low and seductive, promising pleasure and pain.

"Please, Lord, fill me. Fill me with your seed," you speak out the words you never imagined, you will say.

"So desperate, already? You beg well, sweetheart." Sukuna chuckles, his hips pumping faster. His breathing's ragged, and his gaze fixed on your face. "Are you sure you want this?"

Your lips swollen and red from biting as you let go of your moans while you orgasm again.

He does not wait for an answer, instead driving deep into you and filling you completely. His hot seed spills into your womb, marking you forever. His other dick squirts, landing on your chest and tummy. His eyes darken, and his entire body becomes tense.

"Now, you carry a piece of me. Forever bound to me."

Once spent, he collapses onto her, his breath ragged. His mouth found the curve of her neck, licking gently. "We have a deal, little bird. You bear my children, and I'll protect you. Our bond is sealed now."

"Look at you," Sukuna murmurs, pushing himself off your body. Standing up, he steps back to survey his art.

The mess is undeniable—your chest and belly covered in his seed, your thighs wet with evidence of their coupling.

His finger circles around your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

"How messy and used you look right now. Covered head to toe in my filth. I've claimed you and marked my territory for you. No one will dare touch you again. I'll leave you here to rest, my queen. When morning comes, Uraume will take care of you."

"I love you, my queen," he says, kissing your temple, letting you drift into the kingdom of dreams, where you are taking care of lord sukuna's kids.

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deerspherestudios · 15 days

Text

Short Break and To Dos!

Hello all! 🍄🍄👻 I'm glad to see people enjoying Day 3 so far! I was so nervous about showing another side to Mychael in the update I thought people wouldn't like him as much but plenty have reacted positively! ❤️

I'll add a TLDR; above the read more, but if you don't mind my ramblings and want more details about everything, I'll write everything below! Light spoilers ahead!

I'll be taking a short break from MO development until 28th October to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Regarding the feedback on Day 3, I'm glad people aren't as averse to the new side of Mychael, in that he isn't always soft and sweet. I want people to fall in love with a person after all, not a yandere caricature, and that means that person can get upset, angry and sometimes irrational when we don't know what's going on in their head even towards the subject of their affections. While some (understandably!) were shocked about his reaction to the mushrooms, it'll be clear as to why (hopefully!)

Some of you have given incredibly accurate theories, and I'll take that as something I've done well in building up the mystery!!! I'm excited to share more in the next update, but for now!

1. I'll be taking a short break from MO development to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

What I have planned for Day 4 of MO might be the biggest update so far, since one route will lead to a few official BAD ENDINGS as opposed to 'dead ends' like the current demo has. To those who really want to, you finally get to see Mychael at his worst. As usual, writing the script takes a few months with plenty of changes in between, and I don't wanna bulldoze ahead and rush the story when it's getting to the climax!

But before I jump into all of that I just wanna give myself a creative exercise and try exploring a different theme, style and setting with a fresh new character for the jam! Since I'm a sucker for the trope... yes, the new blorbo will also be a yandere, sorry, I'm predictable.💔 The jam ends on October 28th so development on MO will continue then!

The last time I wrote something remotely sci-fi was in high school, so this will be fun to try!

2. Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

What it says on the tin! If you've already played Day 3, rest assured there's no significant story changes. Just an updated credits list, three extra sprites for one route and a small fix in the code.

3. Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Plenty of people have sent such sweet and encouraging messages to my inbox on what they thought of the update and I cannot thank all of you enough for the support!! I can't wait to post them out to archive them on the blog and answer all your interesting theories and queries in my queue!

But for now I'm due for a short break from my socials and to catch up on my Patreon sketch requests haha. I also plan to release cut content from Day 3 for my Yearling and Deer patrons. Plus, I'll be working on some written prompts for extra lore so that's something to look forward to!

I'll be back soon! Take care, fireflies!! ❤️

#mushroom oasis vn #bts #cheea chatter

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freakyfrye · 3 months

Text

ᝰ. 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔰

requested ( @cartoonykat ) : alastor, angel dust, husk, lucifer, charlie & vaggie, vox, adam, sir pentious x gn! reader (separately), they’re having a moment (or romantic date) but it’s interrupted/ruined by someone or something

type: scenarios

content: domestic, fluff, slight crack, bunch of smitten sinners, swears, angle dust bad ass reader s/o, val mentioned thrice cause he’s annoying ash (but he will be added to the blog soon), vox’s kind of a whiny baby but it’s hot (?¿), brief luci vs alastor bit

note: this took a while. ngl because, honestly, alastor and luci had me stumped — also some may be longer than others, what can I say? give inspiration where it’s due

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯

It's rare to see Al anywhere but the heir Morningstar Hotel, whispering over her shoulder like the villain you know him to be. Yet, even he needs a break from the chaos. Strangely enough, for someone who loathes any form of physical touch, he always shows up on your doorstep like clockwork by the end of the week.

Your mornings are routinely filled with melodic tones that stir you awake. The air is thick with the scent of powdered sugar beignets, which only he can make, and the aroma of the finest coffee beans you worked hard to procure because you knew how much he enjoyed them.

He's busy working on something when you creep up behind him, hearing him hum along to his favorite jazz song. Always the jolly fellow with the wickedest mind, he seems at peace for once, even when you audaciously wrap your arms around his waist from behind.

In the past, he would have tensed up and demanded an explanation through clenched teeth. Instead, he now leans into your touch as you lay your head on his back. “Mornin’ Al.” you’d greet muffled, breathing in his scent.

He hums softly, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning towards you, his grin devilishly relaxed. "Well, well, good morning, mon cher. Hope I didn't stir you with all my shufflin'."

You open your mouth to assure him that wasn't the case when, within the next second, there's a loud boom from your far wall and debris flying around your kitchen. When the dust clears, you both stare blankly at a large hole in your wall. You're lost to what's happening when a figure steps through, glaring at Alastor with intense hatred.

"What—Who?" you ask, looking from him to Al, whose smile is tense. "Is this one of your enemies?" you deduce, realizing he must be, since he wasn't here for you.

Alastor blinks before turning towards you, smiling proudly. "Who could tell?,” he jokes, “It's a difficult task to keep track when you're the most hated demon in hell."

“You gonna handle that?” you ask, staring up at him, a frown on your face.

You didn't have to ask twice; he was already pulling away from you, though he didn't appear as cheerful as one might expect when heading off to handle his business.

“And fix my wall when you’re done, Alastor.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 𝕯𝔲𝔰𝔱

It was clear that Angel hadn’t been himself lately. Whether it was the strain from Valentino’s demands or dealing with Charlie and her redemption shenanigans, the reasons were irrelevant. It did bother you and concerned you that he wasn’t confiding in you about whatever was troubling him, though.

But you weren’t going to press him, adding to his burdens. Instead, you decided to show your support: tidying up your place, setting the table, adjusting the lighting, and spending the entire day preparing his favorite Italian dishes. They weren't quite as perfect as his mama's, but you knew no one could match her cooking.

As evening arrived, you finally invited him over, knowing he wouldn’t be free until this hour, dealing with Val’s big head. Greeting him at the door with a kiss, you noticed his tired gaze soften as he returned the gesture. Leading him inside, he gradually perked up, taking in the atmosphere you had carefully set.

By the time he sits at the table, he's lively, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he pours both of you a glass of Roscato wine. “Wow, baby, all this for me?” he asks with a bashful charm, his eyes slightly hooded as he swirls the wine in his glass, chin resting on the back of his hand.

“No,” you begin joking, “this is for the guy after you—don’t eat it all, alright? Leave some for him.”

Angel chuckles, setting down his glass to pick up his fork. He scoops up some fettuccine, then leans forward and offers it towards your mouth. "I think ya runnin’ that pretty mouth a lil too much, sweet cheeks. We both know there ain’t no competition."

Before you can bite back something naughty, his hellphone chimes repeatedly in his pocket. A weighty silence falls over both of you as he reluctantly sets down his fork and retrieves it, his brow furrowing deeply at the messages displayed on his screen. He looks to you from his phone before sighing and rising from his seat.

You raise your hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Wait. Hold on! Where do you think you're off to?" you demand, scrutinizing him suspiciously.

He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he gestures with his hands while explaining, "I'm sorry, sugar. It's Val. He needs me. I gotta go—"

"Sit your ass down," you bark, your mood souring. Angel does a double-take, and you continue, "I planned this day perfectly—slaved away to cook these loving dishes for you—and that man-child was not part of the picture. If he wants my man, he better come and pry me away from you."

Angel quickly considers his options. Ignoring Val usually ends in trouble, but ignoring you feels worse than anything Val could inflict—especially since you're somehow scarier and hotter than him. Plus, he knows you can handle yourself, a skill you demonstrated long before you two got together. He makes his choice and sits back down. To hell with Val; dealing with him can wait.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕳𝔲𝔰𝔨

By the end of the day, exhausted from working tirelessly, all you wanted was to faceplant into your bed. But Husk was coaxing you to spend the night with him, mentioning relaxation and the allure of Hennessy. Honestly, if he had just said he wanted to see you, you’d be right over. No coaxing needed, but who’s gonna tell him?

As you stand outside his room door, it dawns on you that Husk may not even know what it means to relax. Sure, he's somewhat chill after a few drinks, but you've never seen him truly unwind since you've known him. You wonder what you’re in for when you knock on his door, waiting for him to answer.

A gravelly voice answers through the door, "Come in," then falls silent. You purse your lips in confusion and twist open the door, cautiously stepping inside. The room is dimly lit by candles, making it a bit challenging to see at first, but as your eyes adjust, you find him seated on a loveseat, staring at you intently.

"Yeah, not creepy at all," you mumble halfheartedly, dropping your bag on his bed before walking over to him. Your comment earns a tsk from him and a grumble under his breath, but nothing more. Yeah, this was definitely weird. “Who are you and what did you do with gumpelherekitty kitty?”

"Shut the hell up and come here before there's no liquor left," he bites, taking the bait with a small smile on his face as he watches you flop down beside him. An array of pillows behind you looks like clouds waiting to be drooled on, but instead of relaxing just yet, you lean in for a kiss.

A glass of Hennessy is placed in your hands as you pull away, the dark liquid resembling brown sugar but far from sweet. You judge the small amount and down it in one gulp, tilting your head back and letting out a hiss at the burn. It was well worth it, though.

Husk must have agreed because he took the glass from your hand to pour another. "Rough day, huh?" Instead of passing it back to you, he drinks it himself and then gently guides you back onto the pillows, placing your legs across his lap.

You groan, "You have no idea!" before pausing, recalling his own stressful situation. You send him a sympathetic smile, "Then again, you might." You watch as he shrugs, carefully removing your shoes one by one and placing them aside.

"Tell me about it," he says, grabbing one of your feet and starting to massage it, aiming to ease the soreness. "Your day, I mean. Or not." Despite his half-hearted objection, he looks at you expectantly, knowing you'll likely indulge him anyway. And you do—you recount how everything that could go wrong today did, venting about nasty customers and expressing relief to end the day with him.

That confession didn’t escape him; instead, he purrs softly at your words, his eyes grows hooded as his hand moves from your feet to your calf, rubbing gently. He starts to reply when his door bursts open, capturing both of your attention.

He stands up, your legs sliding off his lap as he reaches for his cards, but pauses at the sound of Nifty's sinister giggling and the frantic scraping on the floor. You both watch as she chases a large roach in circles for a few seconds too long before finally following it out the door.

"You people are strange," you comment after a long pause.

Husk sighs heavily through his nose, flopping back into his earlier spot and pouring himself and you a drink. "Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕷𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯

You've been in the hotel long before he showed up. You were already making progress on your redemption arc to heaven. That was always the goal, but you never anticipated to fall for him. This complicated your plans, and he knew it. You wonder if that’s where his doting and overbearing behavior stems from; abandonment and guilt—the risk of both losing you and stopping you from enlightenment.

He often sweeps you off your feet and plans spontaneous outings, desperate to keep you close for as long as possible. It was romantic and considerate of him, just so him, but he didn't have anything to worry about. You wish you could tell him, when you realized it, that even in heaven, you'd fall just to be with him. But the relationship was still fresh so you opt in matching his energy.

The dopey smile he gave you after you guided him to the candlelit table adorned with handmade meals was worth it. You could visibly see his shoulders relax, as if a weight had been lifted. Ever the gentleman, he helps you sit before himself. The evening is filled with sweet nothings, laughter, and smitten glances.

Lucifer reaches across the table, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, planting a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Thank you," he expresses his gratitude as dinner comes to an end. But you had more planned for this night.

"I should be the one thanking you," you confess, causing him to raise a curious brow. You playfully reach over and nudge it back into place, eliciting a pout but no protest. Instead he chooses to lean more into your touch. "I haven't had this much fun since arriving in hell in years."

His devilish grin returns, his posture straightening as he half-heartedly feigns humility, failing halfway because how could he not when you're hyping him up? "Well, y’know, I try. How about we take a trip to Lulu world tomorrow? It's a blast—fully comp, of course, you’re dating the boss," he winks mischievously.

“Don’t you mean “loo loo land”?”

Lucifer shakes his head, waving his hands dismissively. "No—no no no, heavens no. That dreadful place shouldn’t exist in any of the 7 rings,” he sneers with disdain.

You nod, though not fully understanding, and rise from your seat. Lucifer, following your lead like a lost puppy, closes the distance between you. With a smile, you guide him by the sleeve to the center of the ballroom, wrapping your arms around his neck. "The night's far from over. Care to dance with me?" On cue, soft music gently fills the background.

He certainly does. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, swaying gently. His expression softens to one of peace. You playfully plant a kiss on his nose before resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in contentment. They open not even a minute later when the music abruptly stops, gaining both your attention.

You know where the music box is, assuming it malfunctioned but you're surprised to see Alastor standing there, observing you both. Once your attentions on him, he casually addresses everyone in the room, "Oh, my sincerest apologies. Am I interrupting something?" his smile widens at the growl that rumbles from Lucifer chest.

"You’re still here?" Lucifer grumbles, holding you closer, clearly annoyed by the interruption, especially because of who it was.

This earns a deep chuckle from Alastor, “Well, of course. Charlie’s had her fill of parental figures abandoning her, wouldn’t you say, sir?”

“What did he say?!” Lucifer turns towards you for confirmation.

"Anywho, I came to inform you both that a hotel meeting has been called. You know where," Alastor adds, then starts up the music again before disappearing into the shadows.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢 & 𝕮𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔢

Redemption this, redemption that. That's all Charlie ever talks about, with Vaggie always backing her up. Sure, you support her too, but it gets annoying when it consumes all their time, leaving very little for the three of you to nurture your relationship. It was seriously irritating the heck out of you. Having two girlfriends but neither showing you affection like the good old days.

They probably caught on to the problem after enduring your snappy, sarcastic comments and watching you bail on redemption exercises for the nth time this week. With enough silent glances exchanged between them, they realized they had to do something. The following week, they lead you to a romantic picnic in the hotel's garden. You didn't even know the garden existed.

It was surprisingly sweet, especially for a setting in Hell—maybe even slightly cheesy. A white lace blanket was spread across the ground, with a silver tray of desserts of all kinds adorned with rainbow flag toothpicks. Beside it was a black heart-shaped picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.

There was champagne with smiley faces on the bottle and plates with quirky little sandwiches that you were sure Charlie had tried to make. A gothic black umbrella stuck out from the ground, purpose of shielding you all from the hot sun.

Before you could say anything—not that there was much to say, as you were frankly speechless—Charlie and Vaggie pulled you to sit with them. Vaggie wore a soft smile, while Charlie beamed with eagerness.

"We’ve noticed you’ve been a little snippy lately,” Charlie starts, her expression shifting to one of guilt and sympathy. She tightens her hold on you, pulling you closer to her side. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetie. I’ve been so focused on the guest that I’ve neglected both you and Vaggie.”

“I carry some of the blame too,” Vaggie chimes in. “I was so caught up in making sure the hotel ran smoothly and keeping everyone safe that I forgot about the people who matter most to me.”

Charlie’s hands travel down your arms to hold yours in hers. “Can you forgive us? We really didn’t mean it.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Vaggie adds, placing her hands on top of Charlie’s. “We love you so much.”

You bite your lip, glancing between their faces as guilt starts to eat at you because of their words and romantic gestures. “Fuck…” you groan, pouting and closing your eyes. “I’m such an asshole.”

Charlie shakes her head. “No, you’re sweet for wanting time with us,” she says, batting her lashes. “We want time with you too.” She leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Vaggie leans in for a kiss, but just then, someone stumbles into the garden, interrupting the moment.

“Charlie!” Lucifer exclaims, zeroing in on her before finally noticing the surroundings, including Vaggie and you. “Oh—uh, haha,” he chuckles nervously, “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?” He slowly starts to back away. “I’ll just find you later, sweetie! Enjoy your date.”

Just as quickly as he stumbled in, he’s gone. Charlie gives you both an apologetic smile before you all resume your date.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔬𝔵

Opportunity didn’t always come knocking, but you must have one hell of a lucky streak to go from being Vox’s assistant by day to his lover by night. As his assistant, you saw how swimmingly put together Vox always was—after all, the cameras were always rolling if you were one of the Vees.

There was never a moment he wasn’t on top of things, keeping everything in check and everyone in line. Of course, the best times were when Alastor wasn’t involved. But now Alastor is back, and he’s even more of a pain in his side than Vox remembered. Just when Vox was on top of the world, now he’s glitching out at the very thought of that vermin.

Surprisingly, he kept it together in front of almost everyone. But when the clock strikes midnight, he clocks out and heads to his fancy penthouse where you're currently curled up on the couch, waiting for him. His expression instantly shifts to a tired smile as he walks over to you, and you open your arms for him.

He flops all his weight onto you, burying his face in your chest with a low groan. You purse your lips, wrapping your arms around his upper back and kissing his head. Cooing, almost babying him, you ask, “Had a rough day, sugar?” You wouldn’t know since your shift ended hours before his. He grumbles inaudible into your chest.

Tsking, you shake your head. “I can’t understand you when you do that.”

After a moment, he reluctantly pulls away just enough to glance up at you. “That smiling freak… fuuuck…” he mutters before snuggling back into your chest.

There was only one freak who smiled like he had carved it into his cheeks. Why are you not surprised? Sighing, you ask the million-dollar question, “What did he do now?”forcing him to look up at you fully. Perhaps the better question is what doesn’t he do? He can so much as breathe in Vox’s direction and it pisses him off.

“That shitty fuck is tanking my ratings,” Vox begins ranting. “Yesterday, they were down 2 percent. Today, they’re down 7 percent. 7 PERCENT!”

Tilting your head, you frown. “How do you know it’s him? Alastor doesn’t like electronics.”

Vox narrows his eyes down at you as he rises from on top of you, sparks flying from his hands. “Are you seriously defending that asshole right now?!” he asks, his voice strained with disbelief.

“Of course not! What the hell, Vox? I was just stating the obvious.” Here he was, getting insecure again. Seriously, why even mention Alastor around him?

"Fuck your obvi-" Vox is cut off by the ringing of his phone. Velvet's name and photo pop up on his screen. Blinking, you wait to see if he's going to answer, but he declines the call. "—ous bullshit. You’re riding his dick more than mine."

Hunky hunky hunky.

She calls again, and this time Vox answers, zapping the call to the main screen in the living room. “What is it, Velvette? I’m in the middle of—” his screen glitches, his voice turning to static, “—something.”

"What the fuck do you think? He’s at it again, throwing a fucking tantrum over that spider whore," Velvette barks through the screen, her accent heavy with annoyance. "Handle it. I’m busy," she adds, then hangs up.

After the call, silence fills the room before he turns to you, his charming grin returning. “This conversation isn’t over,” he says, his words carrying a double meaning. Still, he leans over to give you a kiss on the lips before he leaves.

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔡𝔞𝔪

Lately, he's been acting strange. You weren’t sure what it was, but each time he comes down to visit you from heaven, he becomes more and more affectionate. At first, you thought he was teasing you, giving you just enough to keep you yearning and then pull back; let you sweat in want—but that never happened. It didn't click in your head until today, after he grudgingly confessed because—

“What the fuck??” you blink owlishly at your bathroom door. But the door isn’t the issue; it’s the noise coming from outside it. Lowering your thriller book, you place it on the toilet seat before rising from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around yourself, and exiting the bathroom.

You're glad to know you weren’t losing your mind, and were in fact hearing correctly. There was indeed a noise, more defined now—an instrumental tune growing louder towards your bedroom. Except, it wasn’t coming from inside your bedroom come to find out but outside your window.

Opening it, you peek over the sill, and your mouth drops. Standing there, looking up at you with an acoustic guitar in his hand, is Adam, with a bouquet of red roses lying at his feet.

“Adam…?” you stutter out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”

His fingers pause on the guitar strings, and he grins. "Fucking finally, babe, I've been standing out here for 10 minutes," he says as he slides the guitar onto his back. He then bends down to pick up the roses and waves them at you. "I brought you flowers."

"…for what?" you bluntly ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. Adam doesn’t do kind gestures—none that you know of—and he certainly doesn’t play acoustic guitars. He claims they're for pussy-whipped douchebags.

He scoffs, lowering it to his side with a shrug, “There has to be a reason?”

You chuckle, raising a brow. "That's how it works, dummy… why did you stay out there for 10 minutes? Just use the front door." Shaking your head, you duck back inside the window to close it and start getting dressed. You're halfway through putting on your pants when Adam barges into your room, tossing the guitar onto the bed.

He walks over to you, checking you out with a sultry smirk. "Are you struggling to fit into your pants?" he asks, before shaking his head as if to focus, adding and shoving the flowers at you, "I heard mortal bitches love this shit."

You finish buttoning your pants while juggling the roses, then sigh loudly and close the distance, pecking him on the lips. "What? Flowers being shoved at them and terrible music. Stick to electric guitars, Adam. It’ll get you laid more." you say sarcastically, pulling away and chuckling. “Acoustics are for pussy-whipped douchebags, remember?”

“Well, yeah, obviously!” Adam follows after you, scratching his head. “I’m talking about me serenading you and giving you flowers… It’s a romantic gesture or whatever… right?” He sounds unsure himself.

You whirl around to face him, pursing your lips as you try to figure out how to word what you’re going to say next without sounding too harsh. "Okay… what the actual fuck is going on with you? You haven’t been yourself the last few weeks, and this is starting to really weird me out."

Adam draws back, his lips forming a tight line before he utters, "Uhhh…" and averts his eyes. "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about." Then, within seconds, he's back to his upbeat self, pulling you towards him by your hips. "You’re fucking hot. Who wouldn’t wanna get in your pants?"

You shake your head, removing his hands and crossing your arms as you stare pointedly at him. It's a silent staring contest for three minutes before he caves in with an annoyed groan. His shoulders tense up as he grumbles, "Fine, fuck. You can be so annoying when you want to be…"

When he doesn't get a reaction from you, he spills the beans, pacing around the room. "Some losers up in Heaven said I wasn't romantic. Me. I'm like, No fucking way, I'm the first dick. Nobody knows how to make bitches fall harder on it!" He scoffs, slouching in place. "Those little fuckers laughed in my face."

You sigh, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "So you came here to prove a point?" He nods, and you continue, "For the first man, you can be pretty stupid. I’m in Hell, who’s going to know? And secondly, I don’t need all this—it’s cute, but you can be sweet in your own Adam way, not this poser crap."

"Well, shit, fuck. Wish I knew that before wasting my break on this instead of fucking the breath outta you," he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I guess I'll just have to make up for it next time."

“Well you better hurry up. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you come back to me.”

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕾𝔦𝔯 𝕻𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰

When you were alive, your dating life was less than healthy and filled with constant disappointment. Your friends called it toxic, but you’d always reply that you only live once. So what if your typical lover was the stereotypical bad boy? Red flags never looked better on anyone. Besides, red was your favorite color.

Ending up in Hell with the life you led was no surprise. You thought you’d keep up the same lifestyle—getting plastered and starting fights with assholes—but somehow you wound up in a crappy hotel after the princess of Hell saw "potential" in you. But what left you even more baffled than potentially spending the rest of your stay in hell there was falling for a simp of a man.

A true gentleman from a different era than yours has you questioning where someone like him was hiding out in your past life. And if you had come across someone like him back then, would you have even given him the time of day if you weren’t being cooped up in a raggedy hotel? Highly unlikely but you’re glad you found him now, while on the road of redemption together.

You may have become sappy enough to tell him that whenever you both had alone time to breathe each other in, much like now. Watching as a heavy blush dusts across his face, his eyes glossing over with devotion, his tail swishing behind him, and his hands fidgeting. Man, he gets more adorable day by day.

“I—” he pauses to gather himself before continuing, “Well, I feel the sssame way, dear!" Sir Pentious always exclaims, suddenly grabbing your hands in his and adding, "In fact, I have sssomething for you. To sshow how much I value our time together…" His voice trails off bashfully.

Biting your lip with a grin, you coo at him, “You made something for me, baby? What is it?” You start making guesses, “Is it a little gadget that protects me? That’s sweet, but I don’t need that. I’m plenty strong on my own.”

“Oh, I know what you’re capable of, my beloved!” he bellows proudly. “Thisss is different. SSsomthing personal, for me and for you… I hope you’ll like it.” He turns away, digging into a bag you only just noticed. When he turns back around, in his hand is something you didn’t expect but also makes sense: an egg.

You eye it curiously, “Pen. Are you gifting me an egg?”

“Yesss... but not just any egg. Our egg,” he says, his hood flattening and eyes growing doe-eyed.

“Wait, what?” you tilt your head, now confused. Last time you checked, you didn't go egg hunting with him and—your eyes bulge out when realization sets in. “Heavens sake, Pen, did you-did you lay an egg?” You thought sinners couldn’t have children…

He shakes his head erratically. “Sssatan’s no. I created this one for us to—" He pauses to take a deep breath, closing his eyes. “To raise together,” he finishes, opening his eyes enough to peek at your reaction. He opens them fully after seeing you smiling.

“That’s the sweetest fucking gift anyone has ever gave me.” you open your arms for him, “Come here, baby.”

Delighted at your reaction, and never one to turn down physical invitations from you, he slithers over towards you. But in the moment of excitement, as he opens his arms to reciprocate, the egg slips through his hands and splats to the floor.

“Oh my God, Pen!” you shout horrified as he drops to the floor, mouth open in utter disbelief.

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

Master List

Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood.

“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it.

“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together.

Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight.

The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age.

Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him.

“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”

Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again.

“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair.

“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun.

“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”

“You’re nauseous?”

“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”

“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene.

He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly.

“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself.

“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression.

“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers.

“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”

“I’m coming, Princess!”

Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water.

“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”

“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you.

“You made an appointment?”

“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”

“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”

You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously.

“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana.

“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”

“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”

~~~~~

“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you.

“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office.

“Any changes to your medication?”

“Nope.”

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life.

“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head.

“My husband had a vasectomy.”

“But are you still sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“In the last few months?”

“Yes.”

“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”

Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room.

“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Yes, I understand that.”

Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you.

“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”

“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious.

“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”

“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”

“Do you use protection with him?”

“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious.

“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat.

~~~~~

Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil.

You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home.

“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction.

You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms.

“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”

Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you.

“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm.

“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously.

“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today.

“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”

“Honey, what deal?”

“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”

“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”

“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”

“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”

“Not in the operating room.”

“Were you supposed to be?”

“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up.

“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake.

“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”

“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”

Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”

“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband.

“My urologist?”

“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”

“When? I have a bunch of—”

“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”

You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five.

But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning.

~~~~~

Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’

Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that.

Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office.

A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”

“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly.

“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”

“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic.

“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”

“And in this case?”

“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”

“Another one?” Jake asked quietly.

But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare.

“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince.

“Sorry.”

You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake.

“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle.

“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”

~~~~~

Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you.

“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”

“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look.

“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head.

“What do you mean by those people?”

“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”

“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”

“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”

Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up. And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face.

“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee.

“Good.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh.

“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”

“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”

“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”

“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.

“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”

“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”

“I have my ways.”

And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife.

And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that.

Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own.

“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again.

~~~~~

Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along.

But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo.

“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.

“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”

Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips.

“Happy Birthday, Jake.”

“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink.

Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed.

And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him.

“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips.

“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands.

“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”

“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss.

And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Eek~ I just found your blog and it's absolutely stupendous, so I'mma send my first request~ Dorm leaders (plus Ruggie, Lilia, and Rook)'s reactions to waking up to a random cat (not Grim, a real cat) on their chest. Upon closer inspection, the collar lists MC (they're romantic partner) as the owner. Thank you!! Sorry if that's too many people you can drop a few!

Summary: Ruggie/Leona/Riddle/Idia/Lilia x reader

A/N- didn't do all the boys, just the ones I thought would have the most variety of reactions. But if the people asked I'd be willing to do more

3k follower Masterlist

"Um, meow?"

His first instinct is to meow in confusion. What the fuck is this cat doing here? He came home for the night, clocked out on the couch, and now he's so dazed. He's not sure if this is even happening.

His next question is, does he have to feed it? He's already working hard to help you both in life. He's not sure he can afford another mouth to feed. Even if you are working, and assure him you'll pay for the cat, he's gonna whine on and on about it. It's going to become clear that he's secretly jealous about the thought of someone else taking his place in your heart.

Wanna get him to shut up? Tell him it's good practice for when you two decide to raise a family together. He won't have a good response to that aside from a very red face.

"Well, hello, little one."

He's going to carry it around like it's nothing. He might not even check the tag and see it's yours. He's fae. He sees something child shaped that he likes, he takes it.

He's not sure if he'll give you the cat back. What do you have to offer him in exchange?

Don't worry, he won't really steal your cat, he's just being a delightful scamp. Now come here and give him a kiss.

"What are you doing here?"

First thing he does is check the collar. Because if he doesn't, he's going to get attached, then be sad when he has to give it back.

When he sees it's yours he gets more excited. He loves small squishy creatures, touch starved baby and now he gets to play with another one whenever he wants!

He'll get it a red collar, with a jewel pendant. He'll get it lots of cute outfits, he'll hold it up in the air, and regardless of gender, say things like, "behold! The true queen of hearts! Bow before their majesty!"

"Fuck off."

He can't help it. His instincts see a rival cat. And it has your smell on it. You're his territory. This home is his territory. Fuck off.

He hasn't moved, or stopped making eye contact with the "thing" since he woke up, and you're going to walk in on him having a staring contest with a house cat. He'll snap past his instincts only once you come into the room.

He wasn't jealous of a cat. Shut your fucking mouth before he shuts it for you!

"Omg! This is one of the best cutscenes I could have possibly woken up to!!!!!!"

The most excited out of anybody. He might even squeal, he's so excited. Might shout, might squeak, might excitedly scream as he spins around with the kitty in his arms. Gives it a nickname like Mr. Fluffers.

He'll be doubly excited when he sees your name on the tag. Now he doesn't have to have Ortho scan for a chip, and return it to some noob who doesn't deserve it!

Anytime you talk about your cat, he pulls up a version of the communism meme that he edited to read, "Our Cat."

#3k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud

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sehaedazokla · 6 days

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he that dares

part one

premise: Cregan Stark's arrival in King's Landing has brought a new type of chaos to the capital. Lady Tyrell is determined to use the Northern lord to her advantage, but the task might not be as straightforward as it seems.

warnings: grief mention

word count: 4k

a/n: here is the idea that has been plaguing my brain since i started this blog. more installments to follow. any comments, feedback, thoughts are always appreciated, especially since this is my first longer piece on here. thank you to whomever requested this. it is not exactly what you asked for, but rest assured the story shall eventually give you what you desire.

next part | series masterlist

The Tyrell girl finds herself with the distinct thought that there is absolutely nothing special about Cregan Stark after all.

She decides upon this in her quarters at King’s Landing, which are modest in size, almost befitting a young lady from a family as opulent as House Tyrell. The sheer silks of the curtains blow inwards gently in the face of the afternoon wind that drifts in from the open window, the slight smell of seawater and the remnants of a cooler day.

The girl in the vanity mirror gazes back at her with a delicately downturned chin and round doe eyes that look up underneath delicate wisps of long lashes. She gives the look another attempt, pressing her lips together slightly to give her a darling pout as she opens a small pot of rouge. The color comes from an ornate box that is covered in gilded roses and twisting thorns. Her fingernails tap gently on the edge of the metal as she opens the rouge with a soft click. With one of her fingers, she presses into the coloring only the slightest bit to pull some onto her skin.

Her plump lips are parted carefully as she raises her hand to dab the color to her mouth, leaning forward slightly. Some of her loose curls sway softly with the motion, and she rests her elbow against the edge of the vanity’s table. Once she has finished, she reaches down to open a drawer and produces a white lace handkerchief that is embroidered with the sigil of House Tyrell – a beautiful rose in shimmering golden silk. When she wipes her finger against the fabric, a light stain of pink is left behind.

She returns to her earlier judgement, regarding the young lord she is set to meet with shortly. Cregan Stark is heavy on her mind that day.

It was not too long ago that the Northern men had arrived in King’s Landing. Soon after followed their liege lord, the Lord of Winterfell, the man who holds the court at present. With him had come an even larger force and with that army he had seized control of the entire city in a very short manner of time. It would seem the young lord had every intention of continuing the war that had consumed the noble houses, much to the concern of House Tyrell.

The House is ran by a woman at present. The Tyrell girl thought of her mother briefly, and of her little brother Lyonel who was only two years of age. She knew her mother did not wish for the war to continue. That very mother had then told the girl that while this Northern lord maintained a firm hold on King’s Landing it was her responsibility to do what she did best: win him over.

There was little to complain about when the request was delivered to her. On the contrary, she had already predicted the wishes of her mother and had ensured she was in the throne room the moment Cregan Stark had first pushed those large doors open, blue eyes sharp and sword still in his hand as he led his bannermen in. It is with perfect clarity that she can recall the moment his head lifted to the balcony of the grand room, meeting her gaze for the first time.

She could additionally recall each and every following occurrence of the prolonged gaze they exchanged whenever they happened to cross paths. After a few instances of this, heavy looks where the Northern lord would hold her stare as if he had no intention of ever looking elsewhere again, she found his eyes began to wander. To the lady’s lace she occasionally wove into her elaborate hairstyles, to the small freshwater pearls that spilled over of her collarbones, and then down further to the way the embroidery at the top of her gowns would sweep across her breasts that were pushed upward by the tightness of her whalebone corsets.

And once an adequate trap had been laid, the Rose of the Court had swept in with angelic grace and poise to introduce herself to him. It had gone as smoothly as she could have expected – save for the way she had found Cregan Stark was smarter than she expected. The shine in his eyes when she’d spoken let her know that this Northern lord would not fall prey to her so easily.

Nevertheless, he has called upon her that afternoon. Which is why she is spending a rather grey day dabbing the subtlest of color onto her lips before smoothing her delicately arranged hair into place and informing her maid she is ready to depart.

They are to meet in the castle’s gardens, as per her own request. She had spent quite some time in the gardens during her time in King’s Landing, and found men were much more likely to deem a conservation there pleasant as it would reflect her scents of rose water and lavender oil and honey.

She catches sight of him as she makes her way down one of the pathways made of little rocks, her elegant heels tapping on the small, pearl-colored pebbles as she approaches. Lord Stark is facing away from her, his hands clasped behind his back. He is still dressed in dark colors but has opted against the heavy furs that had adorned his broad shoulders the first time she had seen him. His hair is a striking shade of red that when caught by sunlight shines almost golden about the edges. But this day, the sky is overcast and gloomy with a few gusts of wind and the faint smell of rain that perhaps foretold an incoming summer storm.

Cregan Stark turns as he hears her drawing nearer, his chin raising slightly as his stern gaze falls upon the Tyrell girl.

She has settled for a hurried step, the heavy skirts of her elaborate dress clutched in her petite hands as she rushes up to him rather quickly, bringing a natural red flush to her cheeks. As if she had been quite fretful over the idea of making him wait for even a moment. Her maid trails behind, grasping at the fluttering of her headdress that the wind plucks at in gusts. The maid is providing the girl with a small amount of distance as she stops to catch her breath in front of Cregan.

“I do hope I have not kept you waiting, Lord Stark,” The Tyrell girl begins, her shoulders rolling back elegantly as she speaks. The action draws further attention to the prominence of her collarbone, over which a thin necklace of gold lays. Her eyebrows raise and draw closer as she gives Cregan a honeyed and apologetic smile. The color of her lips is that of a blooming rose.

Cregan finds there are no shortages of places to look when it comes to her. And yet there is no safe place to rest his eyes upon, no part of her that has not been subtly enhanced or maneuvered to make her look as comely as might be possible. It is no wonder that she has enchanted half of his bannermen as if by some sort of spell, leaving longing eyes and craning necks in her wake as she glides about the court.

And Cregan cannot truthfully declare he is immune to her beauty. The only reason he has noticed so much regarding her is that he had been staring, all dry swallows and heavy-lidded eyes, at her since arriving. The way she made his blood rush hot in his veins, her face and figure more than pleasing. Cregan will not imagine – he is a gentleman, and she a highborn lady -but he could imagine, if he allows himself to, and he could imagine much whenever she enters his line of sight. She needn’t say a word to draw his eye.

He settles for looking into her eyes, although they are perhaps the most disarming feature on her dollish face.

“No, you have not Lady Tyrell.” There is a depth to his tone that she is not used to, even after a week of hearing Northern accents echoing down the halls of King’s Landing. He pronounces both her name and title by enunciating both syllables with a low timbre. She notices the way he intentionally kept his gaze to her eyes, his brows neutral and his features even. A proper Northern lord, perhaps. The girl will figure him out for herself soon enough.

“Oh, thank goodness,” She breathes the first word as a sigh of sweet relief, pausing for a moment to catch her breath since she had hurried so worriedly over to him. A hand comes to her chest, sliding over the top of her full breasts as she presses down to soothe her aching lungs.

Cregan’s eyes flick down.

“I would hate to be late. I know how busy you must be, what with all of your responsibilities here at King’s Landing,” There is that sweet smile again, breaking across her face like the sun through the sky in the early hours of the morning. When she folds her hands gracefully across her front, her cleavage comes together impossibly tighter as her arms press to her sides.

Cregan looks back up to her face, hand clenching lightly.

“Aye, I have been quite busy. Handling the remnants of Aegon’s supporters has proved a heavy task.” His eyes are light, reflective of the overcast sky above their heads. They narrow a bit as he speaks, his expression stern and his voice gruff. She wonders for a moment over how seriously he must take himself.

“A difficult yet vital task, verily.” The Tyrell girl’s eyelashes flutter lightly. She dips her head as if to acknowledge the severity and importance of his work at the capital.

He beholds her for a heartbeat, the slightest twitch of his heavy brows when she speaks with a tone that implies the most agreeable and sweet countenance. It is the perfect thing to reply with, a simple sentence that does not ally herself with either side of the war. An easy compliment given to him like candy. Here is a girl who has learned to play the game of court.

And before Cregan can push the subject further to see if he might glimpse a hint of her true opinion on the matter, the girl is already turning towards the path. He waits a moment while she begins to walk, observing the way she steps with effortless grace. Letting out a small sigh, his wide shoulders drop and he takes a few heavy steps to catch up with her.

The maid trails behind them, and Cregan wonders for a moment if she needs anything from the girl. As he glances over his shoulder, the girl catches notice and smiles, sugary and pleasant.

“How has the capital treated you, my lord? Aside from your important work, that is,” Her chin raises as she looks at him sideways. It is a fair way she has to look up, with the obvious height he has on her. She has never been considered tall, but even so, Cregan’s stature is quite imposing.

Cregan considers her words for a moment. The gardens are quiet, most of the lords and ladies inside to avoid the low clouds that hang precariously above them.

“The South is not much like the North,” He meets her eyes with a heavy gaze as he speaks. There is a heaviness about him in general – stern and disciplined. “I came for the war and find there’s one in every corner of your court.”

She keeps her eyes to the ground for a moment, her expression cool and pleasing. So it would seem Cregan Stark was not altogether empty-headed and boorish.

“Life at court can be quite turbulent at times, it is true,” A honey-tongued and cool concession, smooth as river water over rocks. “But your steadfast devotion to bringing justice is a refreshing presence. Others of your idealism have long since left these walls.”

At first glance, it is a compliment of the softest praise. But Cregan is not foolish enough to take her words for their immediate meaning. No, what Cregan hears instead is an unimpressed warning of what happens to those who come to King’s Landing with good intentions.

“I swore an oath and intend to keep it,” His brow creases in a serious frown. “Even should those I made that oath to no longer draw breath.”

“How very honorable,” Swift and candied, the words fall from her rosy lips as she walks gracefully at his side, finding herself with a flash of annoyance as she has to increase her pace to keep up with his wide steps. This is supposed to be a leisurely stroll, why is it that every step he takes has the length and intent of someone walking towards a particular destination? “It is good to know that the stories of Northern loyalty ring true.”

Cregan feels his jaw tighten slightly, his eyes on her face as she upturns her chin to meet his gaze once more. The look on her face implies she is impressed, but the Lord of Winterfell has an eye for falsehoods and this girl is covered in them, no matter how coquettishly smoothed they are.

A frown of contemplation folds onto his stern face. “It is our nature, my lady.”

“So it is.” A saccharine smile and the glitter of wide eyes. The garden’s flowers are in full bloom, upturned to the sky to catch the possible rain that would occur in the later evening. The petals facing the clouds, waiting, watching. Leaning towards the water they wish for. A small flutter of wings can be heard as a butterfly brushes past. “To be true to one’s nature, you will find, is not a common occurrence here at court. If it is Northern custom to be honest and straightforward, it is Southern custom to be prudent and waiting.”

There is an eloquent way of describing the venomous snake pit that was the capital. Most of the men there came for their own personal interest or gain, clawing to the top of the food chain through underhanded tactics and broken oaths and lies. Most men worked their entire lives for a fragment of what Cregan Stark had come to King’s Landing and taken in one day.

“Therefore, you must imagine why you are so fascinating to many of us here at court.” She explains in a tone of light and airy amiableness, meeting his gaze as if admitting why she had been staring after him so often since his arrival at King’s Landing. This is not exclusively a lie – she was sizing him up, same as every other noble who cared enough to keep an eye on the larger game at play. But some of her staring had been purely self-indulgent, much to her own irritation.

“And you have lived here at court long?” Cregan’s question is reserved and polite.

“A couple of years now,” The Tyrell girl looks out in front of her again while they walk, surveying the gardens around them thoughtfully as if she had not seen them a thousand times. “I served as a lady in waiting to Queen Helaena. The Hightowers are bannermen of House Tyrell and I had been betrothed to her younger brother Daeron from his birth. We had been set to marry this year, however…”

She could not care less about her betrothal to Daeron. It had served her well, allowing her more time to live unmarried as Daeron was much younger than her and the two had never met. And then he had died, and she found herself lacking the safety and security of a royal and wealthy betrothed who was miles away. She wishes she could say she had mourned him, but she had not known him at all.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lady Tyrell.” There is an almost warm quality in his voice as Cregan offers his sincere condolences. She looks down, as she knows she should. Many had given her similar sentiments in regard to the loss of her betrothed, but she did not find herself shedding a single tear for the fallen prince. It is not that there had been no love between them: it is that there had been nothing between them at all. Daeron had never so much as written her a single letter in an attempt to know her. But his sister plagues her thoughts.

Helaena had been a dear friend, a companion, a confidant. It was Helaena who had offered the girl company in that first frightening year at court, who had been unfaltering honest and direct with her. There were no court games or schemes at play with Helaena, no power struggles or competition or backstabbing. The Tyrell girl had been devastated to lose the Queen. Much more so than a stranger she had never even laid eyes upon. Daeron was a figment of imagination from the mind of her childhood self; Helaena had been flesh and blood and dreams and understanding.

She is glad her eyes are downcast; she can feel the glassy haze falling over them and the way her smile lacks any warmth. After a moment, she forces a happier smile back upon her lips and dips her head slightly.

“I thank you, Lord Stark. It has been difficult in the face of such a loss, but I do hope to persevere.” The brightness of her voice lowers to a softer tone. She is well used to pretending to mourn her late betrothed. It is not hard when she simply examines her feelings over Helaena, but such raw and angry grief is not befitting of a lady. No one wishes to see her scream and tear at her hair over the pain that rakes carved, hollow cavities into her chest. They wish for a light dab at a stray tear, a quiet, palatable sadness they can soothe with promises of future love and happiness.

Cregan does not know what to make of her reaction, unable to see her face as it is turned away. Her words are even, practiced.

“I have only spent my time between the capital and Highgarden. There is much of the world I have yet to see,” The Tyrell girl guides the conversation back to Cregan’s original question with ease and experience. She catches his stormy eyes gazing intensely at her once more, sucking in a gentle breath that she wishes she could say is done on purpose to feign interest.

“I imagine I might fair poorly in the North,” She continues hurriedly, eyelashes fluttering as she regains control over her composure, eyes cast to the sky as she presents a sheepish breath of laughter. “With the cold and what not.”

Cregan’s lips twitch faintly at her admission, his head tilting a little as he gazes down at her. It is an amusing thought, this delicate rose in her pastel fabrics and shining jewelry among the ice and snow. He rather wishes to see it, he finds.

“Aye, I fear even our summers would prove challenging for those raised in such fair climate.” The amusement reaches his eyes and she finds herself watching as Cregan looks down, doing his best to remain a gentleman and fighting off the smile that seems to be threatening to break out at the corners of his lips. She hears what his words truthfully mean: he views the Southerners as weaker, used to sunshine and easy days.

Does he fancy himself better because he spent all his time in nightmarish weather, buried under pelts and furs and smelling of sweat and snow? She is eager to see how he’d fare in court without the large army he had brought with him.

“Oh, I simply could not bear it,” She sighs deeply, as if even the thought of such bitter cold was too worrying a predicament to bear in her delicate mind. “I am afraid you shall not be seeing me in the North anytime soon, Lord Stark.”

“A pity, my lady,” There is still a measure of serious composure in his face, but Cregan’s eyes shimmer with something else as he watches her bring her hand to her chest again, smoothing down the expensive fabrics and then up over the soft flesh of her breasts. An action that feigns worry and concern and draws his attention. She has a way of leading the eye about in a subtle manner. Her figure gives him pause. “The North offers a great beauty for those who choose to brave it.”

Her eyes flick to his and there is a moment where Cregan can almost see her sharp mind discerning whether his comment is a challenge or a jab or merely an observation. It fascinates him, yet his face betrays nothing of the thought.

“Perhaps I should amend my previous statement,” The soft laugh that escapes her lips and the sweetness of her expression makes Cregan wonder if he has imagined something. “If my lord was so kind as to offer me an invitation to Winterfell, I would, of course, be honored beyond words.”

Cregan wonders for a moment if he can discern her true intentions. She intrigues him, much more than she should. It was her alone of all the Southern ladies who had approached him directly, introducing herself and offering welcome. Cregan knows it is not from the goodness of her heart. She could fool his bannerman with her wide eyes and friendly smiles, but Cregan was attuned to lies, no matter how beautifully they were spun. Attuned, yet perhaps not immune to their crafter.

It is likely she seeks marriage, now that her betrothed has fallen in battle. Cregan is a perfect candidate. But he cannot be sure, not when she’s blinking up at him with such sweet and thoughtful eyes. Her weapons are great and her skill with them is more so. Before Cregan can open his mouth to mention that he would in fact, wish to see her with rosy cheeks bitten from the cold and snowflakes in her soft hair, she casts her eyes to the sky, frowning thoughtfully.

“It would seem that the evening storm is rolling in sooner that anticipated,” She muses, sighing a little, as if she is truly saddened their stroll is coming to an end. They have almost walked to the end of the gardens anyhow. “I shall excuse myself, if you do not mind, Lord Stark.”

Cregan lowers his head in understanding, his eyes meeting hers as he lifts his chin. He holds the stare for longer than needed. “Go ahead, my lady. I would hate to see you caught in the rain. You might melt.”

She blinks, that sweet smile on her lips but not quite reaching her eyes as she feels her jaw tighten slightly. How utterly charming. As if to subtly let her know he has not fallen for a single thing she has said or done in the last hour. She imagines he finds that amusing.

“How kind of you, my lord.” She offers him through a mildly forced grace, her right eye twitching a little as she gives a deep curtsy that once again showcases just how fortunately she is blessed in the bosom. Cregan finds his mouth dry, his shoulders rolling back slightly. “Do not hesitate to call upon me should you need anything at court. I hear it can be quite challenging for those raised in such fair company.”

When she draws herself up, she gives him one last smile before she turns to collect her maid and disappears.

Cregan hears his own words shot back at him with the most amiable and honeyed cadence but realizes a moment too late. He runs a hand through his red hair and then over his face as he sighs. But as he does so, he feels the ghost of a smile on his lips. Cregan finds himself shaking his head, gazing in the direction she has vanished into for a long moment in silence.

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wintersera · 1 year

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kayeeee :]

could we please get some milf!karina crumbs.. i just need her to absolutely destroy babysitter!reader whether it’s with her g!p or her strap tbh!also maybe a breeding kink too if comfy with that?

-your pookie sugar but from a different universe (different blog,i’m just being extra)

milf!karina x babysitter!f reader

notes: HNNG MILF KARINA AND BABYSITTER READER WITH A FUCKING BREEDING KINK? oh sugar you’re so full of thoughts. i added mommy kink reader because of that liz one you wrote. enjoy 🫶

cw: sugar mommy milf karina, mommy kink, breeding kink, dom karina, sub reader, use of toys (strap), strap being called ‘cock’, praise, oral (giving).

word count: 2.2k

the day you received a request to babysit someone's child was the day god blessed you fr.

you didn’t believe what you were seeing. as soon as you walked into her house you first noticed the expensive and modern interior design. you were shocked beyond belief, but what got you even more shocked was no one else but the owner. clad in sleek black clothing, rich and mature aura seeping out from her presence alone. she had your heart skipping, not one, but multiple heart beats. with a child hiding behind her leg she introduced herself with poise

“the names yu jimin, but you can call me karina, love. i assume your name is y/n? is that right my dear”

“y-yes, l/n y/n. i’m here to babysit your child… if this is the right address- i mean, your house is so expensive an-“ horribly fumbling over your words she cuts you off with her rich silky chuckle.

“i can assure you that you’re at the right location, dear. now, i’ve got some business to attend to. so please allow me to explain the rules of my house before i leave you and my child alone” and she does so. delicately telling you what and what not you can do in her household. you train your eyes on the curves of her body and her gorgeously sculpted features gracefully adorning her face, unable to look away you grow flushed. she looked exactly like what you thought an angel looked like and by god, you know this woman was going to be the death of you “…and that's all, now run along, my meeting is in 15 minutes” watching her attentively as she walks to her big front door and enters her freshly bought lamborghini.

making yourself comfortable in the house, you do the basic babysitting things. looking after and playing with the kid whenever she got bored, cooking meals for her and all that jazz. finally, after all the hard work, you plop yourself down on the big leather chair located in their living room. feeling at peace now that the kid is finally asleep after hours of insisting that she should go to bed, you find yourself growing sleepier. needless to say you passed out right there.

morning came and you’re awoken by the birds chirping and the rays of sunlight hitting your face. where exactly am i? you question. you’re in a king size bed in one of the guest rooms. is what you assumed. who exactly carried you here, you wonder. as if the timing couldn’t be any better, mommy- i mean karina, gently knocked on the bedroom door.

“y/n? are you awake dear? breakfast is ready would you like to accompany us at the dining table?” her morning voice sounding ever so lovely, as if the angels from heaven were strumming their harps in this room.

“i’ll be ready in just a minute, please wait for me” frantically slipping out of the bed realising that your day attire was replaced with a silky set of pyjamas. DID SHE PUT THIS ON ME? does that mean she… oh god did she strip me down? you’re insufferable, the notion setting you off feeling the return of your arousal eat at your stomach.

walking down the long hallway to the dining room was quite a trip, getting lost a couple of times because her house was unbelievably massive. thankfully a few maids were there to guide you, albeit being a little hesitant to ask them at first.

spread out in front of you was a plethora of different varieties of breakfast foods. ranging from pancakes to french toast to literally everything you could think of. “um… i don’t think i’ll be able to eat all of this”

“don’t be silly, y/n. eat what you can. my chefs are highly trained professionals i can guarantee that everything will be to your liking” saying this all while she’s motioning for you to sit right next to her.

“you know, it’s quite difficult not having a husband whilst you have a feisty little kid growing up. i’ve thought about this while you were asleep but would it be possible to have you as my personal babysitter? my little girl already loves you as her nanny” turning to you with a warm smile placed upon her face. “oh, and i assure you the price will be generous”

“well of course. i’ll gladly take up the opportunity if you’re offering” smiling back at her. little did you know, but she found you ever so charming.

a few weeks into your job and you’re already doing very well, accompanying karina and her kid whilst they go shopping. seeing brand names you’ve never even heard of being presented to you and being treated like you too were a millionaire. it was all bizarre to you, it was like she was treating you as if you were her sugar baby.

a couple more weeks of working and you’ve grown closer to her. sitting next to her while she was doing her work, or even laying next to her while you both watch movies and shows on her massive couch. talking to her on the nights she was available and texting her during her work hours. it felt as if you two were together, romantically.

there were times when she’d leave light touches on your body, brushing it over in a joking way, or simply saying that she likes you very much that she’s comfortable with you.

over the next month things started to change more. you’d often spend most of your time at her house so you grew comfortable with her presence, but it seemed a little more different than before. dressing more lightly and touching you more than ever drove you mad. seeing her in less clothing as everyday goes past while she makes subtle innuendos as she’s leaning into your ear. but thank the lord the kid was somewhere lurking around, if it wasn’t for the kid you would’ve pounced on karina right there.

fortunately for you the schools had reopened, sending the kid off with karina.

but you couldn’t pull yourself to do it, having some ounce of shame in you, you couldn’t do that to lovely miss yu jimin. however, as soon as you two had entered the house, karina pushes you into the wall, breathing heavily, she kisses your lips with hunger, hiking up the shirt she lent you for today. shocked by the urgency in her actions you immediately pull her away “wait- hold on a minute what are you doing” panting heavily from the sudden kiss.

“my apologies, i thought you felt the same way as i” pulling herself off of you, looking at the ground in shame.

grabbing her wrist you assure her, “no, keep going. i was just startled, that's all” with that she continued, kissing you with passion and hunger. carrying on from where she was, she slithered her hand up your already hiked up shirt, fondling your breasts as she slips her tongue in your mouth, receiving a low groan from you. turned on by this you tug the back of her blazer, wanting more from her. reading your actions, she pushes a knee in between your thighs, pressing your core gently as she continues to play with your breasts, this time pulling the bra down. eyeing your tits as they fall out in the most perfect way to her. with your now exposed breasts, she begins to play at your nipples, rolling them around gently in her fingertips. cooing at how you’re so pretty for her.

“c-can i ask you something?” struggling to use your words you manage to spill out a request through your whimpering.

“you may”

“can i call you m-mommy?” blood rushing to your face as you say that.

upon hearing that, something in karina had snapped. dragging you to her bedroom, she smirks at you as she undresses herself. “you want to call me mommy? well, anything for mommy's little baby” teasing you with your own words you feel even more turned on. sitting at the edge of her bed she beckons you to come kneel between her thighs, “come” you oblige. “make mommy feel good and i’ll give you a reward for being such a good girl” intoxicated with the smell of her arousal, you pull her lacy black lingerie aside, flicking her clit as she squirms around you. feeling your tongue working hard on her clit, she grabs your hair in her hand, wanting to feel your tongue even closer on her she pushes you closer to her hips, rocking them to the rhythm of your licking. legs threatening to close, you keep them apart with a gentle grip on her thigh.

“fuck.. you’re such a good girl “ moaning out, looking down at you with hooded eyes, “keep g-going, mommys close” working hard, you start lapping up violently, teasing two fingers at her dripping hole. as you let your digits slide slowly in her, a guttural moan escaping her lips, feeling that her walls are clenching around you already you knew she was on the edge of her climax. to send her over the edge you suck hard on her clit, as you work in and out of her hole, hitting her in all the right ways. “a-ah.. oh god, baby you’re doing so good” praise as your motivation you work harder than you ever did before, quickening up your pace as you fail to keep her legs open, therefore her thighs squeezing around your head. it’s not like you dislike it anyways, you loved it.

throwing her head back, she lets out a long pornographic moan, gripping your hair as her thighs suffocate you.

euphoria washing over her body. she helps you stand up, heavily panting as she wipes her juices off of your chin and face, eagerly placing a finger in your mouth to lick it straight off. “you’ve made mommy feel so so good baby, now for your reward. sit on the bed for a moment, let me get something for my dearest.”

you lay on your back, waiting for her to call you. rattling coming from her drawer, you could only guess that it’s a toy. excited for what's in store for you, you sit up, watching as she puts on a large, beautifully crafted, black strap. gulping as she approaches you, placing herself in between your thighs this time.

“mommy, are you sure this can fit in me?”

“don’t worry my baby, i’m certain it will” supporting herself on your thighs with her two hands, she pushes the strap slowly and deeply into you, tip kissing your cervix.

crying out, tears streaming down your face from the immense amount of pleasure and pain, “fuck- mommy… your cock is filling me up, breed me p-please” cooing at you she kisses your lips softly.

“you’re taking me good, fuck, y/n carry my children for me. you’ll be the perfect mother for my kids” jerking her hips suddenly, making you scream her name out loud. you didn’t really care if the maids heard you. with care, she pounds hard into your pussy, creating lewd wet noises from how wet you are. “god, y/n baby you’re so wet for mommy, don’t i make you feel so good?” now gripping onto your hips, holding them steady so she can fuck herself harder into your needy womb. wanting you to bear her children she fucks you with fervour, her eyebrows furrowing as she concentrates on her rhythm.

with every thrust she gives you, you notice how her tits bounce up and down. wanting to suck on them badly, you cough out another request “mm- ah fuck.. mommy can i suck on your tits?” nodding in response she picks you up from the back, laying herself flat on the bed and you sitting up riding her cock.

“suck then”

leaning down to her chest you lick around her nipples, flicking and pulling them, moaning as you basically make out with her nipples. continuing to rail into you, she grabs your ass with both of her hands, lifts you up just to slam you right back into her cock. “f-fuck.. mommy, cum- cum in me please. i want you to fill me up” although a bit sad that she can't shoot her load into you ripe womb, she keeps up with the roleplay, saying that

“i’ll fuck your pussy until you’re leaking with my cum”

feeling how tight you are being more of a struggle to manoeuvre her strap inside you, she thrusts harder, knowing that you’re on the verge of cumming. “mommy please, f-faster, don’t stop- gonna cum, so good” strings of praises and ‘don’t stops’ spilling out off your mouth as you continue to rock your hips on her, leaning back down to once again suck her tits.

you’re inevitable high hits you like a truck. cumming hard on her dick, you scream profanities as you clutch onto her shoulders, gritting your teeth as you still unconsciously buck your hips.

coming back to reality, you panic “karina, what time is the kid coming back?” giggling, she looks at you with adoration in her eyes.

“not anytime soon, my dear. we have more time” she playfully smirks at you.

safe to say you guys pretty much fucked until you had to pick up the kid.

#wintersera #fem! reader #karina x fem reader #aespa karina #aespa karina smut #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader smut #aespa x fem reader #gg x reader #kpop smut #girl group smut

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maidragoste · 8 months

Text

Sapphire

part of the universe of "the queen and her husbands"

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, it really motivates me to keep writing 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

In the first months of Aemond's return to King's Landing, he never removes the patch around his children. He is afraid of their reaction to seeing his scar and that he lacks an eye. He is sure that Aemon and Baelon will be afraid if they see him and he could not bear his children to be afraid of him again. He does not want to return to the first days of his return where they cried every time he tried to raise them. So he always has the patch. It doesn't matter how many times you insist on your husband who took it out when you four are alone and you assure you that nothing bad will happen, he doesn't want to risk it.

Until a warm day, Aemond can no longer bear the patch and decides to remove it for a moment just because Aemon is asleep in his lap and plans to put it back before his son wakes up. Aemond is so absorbed in his reading that he does not realize that Aemon is awake until he feels a small hand touching his face. The prince looks at him expectantly, ready to listen to a cry or a scream but that doesn't happen.

And when you enter the chambers and you find one of your children standing in your husband's lap trying to remove the sapphire from his eye you cannot help laughing. You are not surprised after all, your children seem obsessed with playing and playing with the sapphire of your necklace.

Later when Baelon returns from spending the afternoon with his grandmother and Aemond has his patch again. You and your husband are sitting on the floor playing with the twins when Aemon proudly shows his twin his new discovery, raising the Aemond patch and exposing the sapphire. You notice how your husband is tense fearing that maybe Baelon reacted badly and smiled at him waiting to give him a little confidence.

Then Baelon shouts excitedly and now it is both twins who try to remove their dad's sapphire.

You laugh while you get up and rise to Baelon moving away from Aemond.

"I told you that you had nothing to worry about," you say smiling and dodging Baelon's little kicks.

To the consternation of Aemon, your husband also gets out on the floor. He looks at him for a moment before playing with his other toys.

"Do you want me to tell you that this time you were right?" says Aemond, taking Baelon away from you, he would rather suffer from a kick than you end up hurt.

"I'm always right"

"No, you don't."

Before you can complain Aemond kisses you making you forget about any thoughts.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @alisoncdariel @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @your-favorite-god

@snowprincesa1 @snh96 @rosey1981 @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @hannaeditzs @zverea

@solacestyles @lilithskywalker @justsumtuffstuff @crispmarshmallow @afro-hispwriter @libdarkheart @chevelledahuman @helloitsshitzulover @ladybug0095

@ietss @serendippindots @ultraviollett @akinatrix @papery-maniac @merovingianprincess @hnybitches @m1ndbrand @giulia2372 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry

@bajadotcom @woodandwaxwings @mendes-bae @sustisama @imjustboredso @remuslupinwifee @sarcasticking9 @melllinaa @letsloveimagines @zillahvathek

#the queen and her husbands #I missed writing them and this universe #aemond headcanons #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #aemond fluff #dad aemond #dad!aemond #hotd fluff #oc: baelon targaryen #oc: aemon targaryen

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elitadream · 9 days

Text

Hi guys~! ⛅👋

Long time no see! Much longer than I ever intended, in fact. Truth be told, I wanted to make a public post sooner, but I've had a lot to catch up on in terms of notifications and messages since logging back in a few days ago. I've also made some changes that I will address shortly, but first of all I wanted to thank those of you who have reached out with so much care and understanding during my absence. Adjusting has been a slow and fragile process for me -still is-, and I sadly haven't responded directly to everyone yet because of it, but I wanted to say how much I appreciate your patience and support nonetheless. 🥹 🙏

Long story short, I was gone for five months due to a huge burnout, then progressively found my spark again somewhere along the way and have since mostly recovered. It was my wonderful friend @drones-of-innocence who reached out to me outside of Tumblr, and her sense of initiative is largely the reason why I managed to make this post in a somewhat reasonable delay. 😅💖 With that said however, I must also mention that I've deleted a lot of stuff from my page and have removed most of my work from the public eye as well. This may seem quite drastic and frankly a little unsettling, but I assure you that it was a thoroughly considered and reasoned decision! The thing is that I was still getting lots of notes on these drawings everyday and… To put it simply, I didn't want that anymore. 🙇‍♀️ Experiencing popularity was very detrimental to me in the long run and I needed to put an end to it for the sake of my own wellbeing; at least for now.

Which brings me to my next point.

After mulling it over for a while, I've decided that I would not be returning as an active creator in the Mario community this time around. 👐 Making fanart for this franchise (with such a high and continuously maintained degree of involvement) had a lot to do with my health's decline and I've come to realize that I wanted to direct my focus elsewhere going forward. For that reason, there are things which I know will never be repeated again in the future, both in regards to my art and online presence in general, but that's alright. Things change, as they do and should. I'm looking forward to reuniting with folks and would be very happy to stay in touch with those of you who wish to message me privately. Like my lovely pal @istadris said, what matters most about any fandom are the friends you make in it. ☺️

And speaking of which-

@ody-and-fanatu That's so sweet of you, thank you! 💗 I'm glad you've enjoyed my contribution to the fandom. It was fun while it lasted! 💫 My visual ideas may be gone from my page, but most of my written posts and replies are still there for anyone who wants to revisit those at least, so there's that! And I'd also like to answer some of the asks I still have in my inbox at some point. Knowing that you hold my art in such high regard makes really happy! 🥰 Unfortunately, the other account that I have is reserved for my professional work and I prefer to keep them separate from one other, but the good thing is that I intend to go back to this blog occasionally. Hoping to see you around! Cheers! 🥂

@heiressofdoodles Thanks, I appreciate that! ✨ I'm honestly doing much better than I was earlier this Spring. Back then, I was running on empty and on the verge of crashing without even knowing it. Being in constant physical pain was one thing, but feeling mentally and emotionally drained on a daily basis was another entirely, and something had to be done. It took me a moment to really figure out what was wrong, but thankfully I realized very quickly what was causing it and applied the breaks with all my might. One of my main priorities now is to be more alert and respect my own boundaries to make sure that this never happens again. 🥲

@keakruiser Thank you. 🙏💐 I'm just glad to have found my footing again. Feels good to be able to create freely.^^ Hope you're doing well too!

Special thanks also to @pianokantzart, @jelly-fish-wishes, @katlyntheartist, @triniji and @wahooitsamee for their kind words. 🫂 Your graciousness and consideration means a lot to me. 💝

As for all the nice people who sent me anon comments and well wishes, I tried to summarize my thoughts as best I could in this update, but if there's anything else you'd like to say or know, don't hesitate to ask me anytime! Now that I feel like myself again, I think I'm gonna hang out on Tumblr for a little bit. I'll be excited to see what you guys have been up to in the meantime! 🤗 Wishing you all a very good day and pleasant Fall. 🍂

-elita 🌸

#elitadream #update #personal message #community

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mysticmunson · 1 year

Text

walls of jericho (e.m.)

summary: eddie's guard has been up for everyone, but you make his reservations tremble, and he doesn't know what to think of that.

authors note: hi i wrote this and it's very angsty. the semester is finally done so i'll hopefully be around more :) much love. xx elora. (my blog is 18+)

warnings: allusions to smut, angst, eddie being bad w emotions :( (there’s a happy ending) eddie is 22 and reader is 21 :)

thank u to my loves @lilacletter @bimbobaggins69 and @andvys who i spoke about this fic with! :D

As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie thought he was dreaming, that you weren’t sitting on his bed and timidly asking him a question he never expected. You nervously twisted the hem of your black cotton skirt, not daring to look into his eyes that widened with surprise.

“Will you take my virginity, Eds?”

He knew you were having a hard time intimately as you told him almost everything, with a few failed dates ending with a peck on the cheek. As you both grew older, it became more embarrassing for you to be so inexperienced, even if he assured you it was fine.

Perhaps it was a stupid idea that shouldn’t have been announced, but his response made it even worse after he was assured you were being serious.

“Only if nothing changes then okay.”

His hands roamed to uncharted territories, feeling how your skin warmed beneath him and your breath staggered. His lips touched yours for the first time after years of only meeting the apples of your cheeks.

Your voice bounced from your chest as he entered you, the soft hymns of your pleasure clashing with the harshness of his room. He hushed your winces as you accommodated to his latex-covered cock, never more vulnerable than at this minute.

His bister eyes bore into yours, mouths agape as your breath exchanged for gasps, while he was applying pressure to the bundle of nerves beneath your navel. Bliss arose from thin air as you finished, his hips stuttering shortly after as some of his body weight remained on you.

As his nose pressed to your ear, he knew he fucked up, but he couldn’t bring himself to move until you squirmed. Rolling to his side, he didn’t meet your gaze that shot at the side of his cheek.

“How was it?” You asked meekly, pulling his sheets to your chest to cover yourself, adjusting to the viability of his old pillow.

“Good, you’ll make a dude real happy.” He quipped, staring at the popcorn ceiling above him, not daring to welcome the immense warmth he felt coating his gut. He told himself it was because he was in orgasmic bliss and that he knew you’d delight someone with your body.

The night went on after clothes returned to both of your bodies, he noticed your abnormally quiet demeanor, but decided you must be a little shocked at the recent events until you went to leave.

“You make me happy, Eddie.”

He shrugged, mumbling a ‘you too’ as he yanked off his shirt from today and put on an older band tee with a hole on one of the seams. He’d remove his sweatpants once you left.

“No, Eds, I mean… You make me really happy, I like you.” You spoke, sounding celestial in a cream-white blouse. With the look he gave you during sex, it gave you the motivation to speak your mind, but now with his silence, it felt grim. “Please say something.”

His back was to you now, looking down at the wrinkled sheets, cursing the fact he let it get this far. He couldn’t face his emotions now, he needed to be alone.

“You didn’t say anything.” He stated coldly, but you awaited some hope, that this couldn’t be the result. “The one thing I said was that nothing changed.”

“Nothing has changed, Eddie, it’s just-” You consoled, but the burn behind your iris’ were betraying you.

“No!” He snapped, turning to face you with beet-red cheeks, “I told you no feelings, don’t try to make me the bad guy. You’re my best friend and we need to agree that you didn’t just say that, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that he stomped to his front door and swung it open, waiting for your heavy footsteps to leave in embarrassment. His head hit the door as it shut, biting his lip and clenching his eyes shut. It was for the best, he’s doing this for both of you.

That was hard to believe as he heard your choked cry before your car purred, pulling from the trailer park until it became a small light near the highway. Grabbing a beer, he switched on a record and took off his pants.

He lit the rolled blunt tucked in his bedside table and took a deep hit, feeling his fingers tingle as he vanished into the thrashing of Steven Duren through his boombox. The walls of Jericho etched inside of his mind teetered, but never fell and he wouldn’t let that happen.

The barriers within him remained stagnant as he went through the next week, remaining his chaotic self on the battlefields of Hawkins. He showed up full of energy for Hellfire, only earned one day of detention, and sold to more clients than normal.

Meanwhile, the drive home was one of the most humiliating moments of your life, trudging inside your apartment and getting in the shower. It was foolish to believe he liked you this way, just based on how kind he was with you. Your stomach churned at the thought of him looking at other women as he did to you, that every ounce of sincerity you believed was contrived.

The week came and went as you worked and caught up on school, focusing on that instead of on yourself. How sometimes you could smell his cologne from his presence weeks ago, feeling the grazing embrace at encompassed your shaking frame only to be left alone in your bedroom.

You had called Robin and Steve to catch up as they missed movie night the Friday before, the night you and Eddie became closer then further than ever. The diner floors were freshly waxed, your shoes announced your presence before you could say hello.

“Hey, what’s up?” Robin questioned as you sat, “Where’s Freakazoid?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, grabbing the plastic-covered menu, and looking at the fake images of the food that wouldn’t hit your table. The mention of Eddie made you queasy, anxiously pondering if every time you left your apartment is when he would call, but each time, the call log remained barren.

“What? You two are inseparable, I thought you held hands when you pissed.” Steve joked, but was genuinely curious about the metalhead’s disappearance.

Robin and Steve hadn’t seen Eddie since last week when he returned a VHS copy of a western that Wayne liked. Nothing seemed peculiar and they told him why they couldn’t make it to movie night a few days later as Robin got a B on her calculus test. Her grades seemed to be the one thing her mother focused on, so she was grounded aside from work.

Your continued silence made them confused further, looking at one another to see if there was a missing component, but nothing was transmitted. A waitress came by to collect your order before heading off, coming back briefly to give you your drink.

“What happened?” Steve asked, noticing your shoulders tensing and scratching at your collarbone.

The humility was consuming you, unable to pick up your phone and call him, the number you knew by heart. The self-confidence that you had been working on vanished over a few sentences, your face shoved into your pillow as you drifted into the white noise.

“Nothing, just needed some space.” You disclosed, revealing the slight truth without too much of the bigger picture.

“Lies. Lies. Lies.” Robin bites with no malice, sipping her Dr. Pepper from the glass cup, “You’re acting weird, don’t act weird, that’s hair’s job.” Steve elbowed her arm at the dig, scoffing as he drank his Coke, fidgeting with his watch.

The truth sat on the tip of your tongue, knowing it would feel better to remove it from your sole subconscious, but it also held a bomb. One that would reveal the intimacies, your naivety, and Eddie’s coldness. The two were a sarcastic pairing, but they weren’t cruel.

“Eddie and I slept together, my first time.” You mumbled, looking at the gold dainty rings on your fingers before up as Steve choked on his drink, not expecting the answer. He would’ve heard of it from his friend, surely, but he also knew you wouldn’t lie.

“What the- So what happened?” Robin caught herself, seeing your defeated expression as you drew shapes on the table with your fingers.

The hardest part became lodged in your throat, constantly in an internal battle of if Eddie was being cruel or honest or some odd combination. His words were blunt, but he began with them. It was you who spoke out of turn, but it felt so cruel.

“I told him I liked him,” You whispered, the wavering in your voice rising, “He told me we agreed on no feelings and that he wouldn’t be made the bad guy. He made me agree that I never said anything, but he hasn’t spoken to me since.”

Looking dumbfounded, the pair opened their mouths to provide comfort, but the waitress returned with their meals. For Robin, a plate of pancakes, and for you and Steve, two burgers and fries. Grabbing the ketchup, you tapped the bottom of the glass to slide some out.

“Shit, Y/N,” Robin breathed out, eyes still widened, “I’m sorry that’s-“

The sound of your drink hitting the table ceased her reply, though the action wasn’t done with intention on your part.

“No, no. I shouldn’t have said anything, he said from the beginning he didn’t…” You trailed, eating a fry to push the wail down your scratching throat, “Like me.”

Wiping his mouth with the white napkin, Steve scoffed, pointing in your direction. “Don’t, he’s being a total jackass! He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

Nodding, you let Robin divert the conversation to something else that consumed her mind, more than happy to think of anything, but those brown eyes looking in yours. Halfway through a story about an interesting couple that made their way to the beaded back section of Family Video, you excused yourself to the restroom.

Waiting a brief moment, neither one of them could hold back the commentary they desperately wanted to spill, but refraining for your own well-being.

“What is his problem!” Robin scoffs, shoving a syrup-covered bite in her mouth, “He had to have known how she felt, I mean, she’s not exactly the best about holding her love back.”

It was true, you were affectionate to people you cared for, and Eddie was one of your closest friends. You had seen him at his lowest and highest, for every midnight drive and stroll in the mall. You didn’t falter your affection when kids began to tease you both with Eddie receiving the brunt, choosing to stay at his side.

The feelings were contemplated for years, many mocking your demeanor in which you would shrug off their teasing. But the constant reminder of how you did act differently with him lingered until one day you sat across from him silently as he wrote out his latest DnD campaign that you knew. It scared you, but somehow being hurt by him would be okay in your mind if it meant you could have him briefly.

“It’s weird as hell, man. I’m gonna talk to him, it’s not fair to her.” Steve mused, sympathizing with the abandonment of a first lover not reciprocating their feelings.

While Steve’s first had been a random girl at a party, he still experienced immense pain sitting beside her in geometry. He didn’t even want to conceptualize the pain you must be enduring, hoping it would vanish rather than fester.

After you returned, the discussion resumed about strange customers and annoying strangers until there were only crumbs and reminisce of syrup.

Waving goodbye, you went back home, the quiet car ride reminding you too much of that day just last week that had you crying all over again.

Steve dropped Robin off at home before driving to Forest Hills with Eddie’s van nowhere to be seen. Groaning, he smacked the steering wheel, now deadset on finding his friend before the sun went down.

As he went through town, he looked for the car, stumbling across the record store sticker between a Radio Shack and Dairy Queen. Spotting his target, he pulled into the parking lot and headed inside, the dust swirling as the wind brushed past the old types of vinyl.

A girl with long black hair was talking to Eddie, feeling his muscles through his leather jacket and fluttering her eyelashes. He watched as she noticed the time, scribbling down a series of numbers.

“I’d love to see you play sometimes, I’ve heard great things about going backstage.” She purred, her voice becoming louder as Steve snuck closer, only appearing when she had vanished.

Grabbing the small paper from his friend's hand, he shoved it in his pocket and crossed his arms. He resembled an upset parent, too tired to deal with bullshit, but caring too much to let it go unnoticed.

“Hey! Man, what the fuck?” Eddie exasperated, holding his arms up, “Give me that.”

“No, not until you explain why the hell you’d say that to her.” Steve stated, raising his brows in anticipation.

What excuse could he possibly give for viciously rejecting his best friend and having a random girl touching him up in a public place, all within days.

“What? How did you even hear, I thought it was just the two of us in here until you showed up! Honestly thought she’d give me head in the bathroom-“ Eddie began smugly, smirking at how she came onto him on her own accord.

“Oh my God, I don’t care about her, I mean our best friend who’s been crying for a week.” Steve clarified, grimacing at his words.

He didn’t miss as his friend’s face went slightly pale, arms falling to his side, looking to the side at the selection of 1960s hits.

“It’s none of your business, nothing even happened.” He huffed, turning on his heels before his Reeboks scuffed out of the old building, but Steve was hot on his tail. He never realized how broad his friends' strides were until now, barely able to climb into his passenger door unwarrantedly.

Eddie huffed, his finger tapping against the leather steering wheel cover that was beginning to peel. Steve stared at his profile, anticipating some form of reaction that would involve a yell, but the silence felt heavier.

“Get out of my car, man.” Eddie sighed, looking over at his friend, “I wanna go home and smoke.”

Steve shrugged, stepping from the van and slamming the door, retreating back to his BMW. He clicked the button before pulling away, leaving Eddie in the parking lot with the other older cars.

Truthfully, Eddie should’ve anticipated that Steve wouldn’t give up that easily. So when the BMW pulled into the trailer park moments after Eddie had, he acted annoyed, but let him inside anyways.

“Don’t be stingy, I want hits too.” Steve said, walking behind him and into his room which had clothes scattered against the ground and beer cans on the dresser.

“Don’t get fucking pushy, Harrington, why should I give you my good weed?” Eddie questioned, biting words as he pulled out his grinder.

Sitting beside the other man, he began twisting the silver container, hearing the small blades slice the fresh bud that he could smell.

“I just want to know what happened, calm the fuck down. And I should get your good weed because my high school parties made you so much money!” Steve retorted, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, making sure his shoes hung off the bed.

This was true, Eddie was able to help Wayne with bills during high school because of their unspoken deal. Steve would keep the assholes away from Hellfire if Eddie sold him good weed and sold the rest at Steve’s parties. It was a just arrangement and became the building blocks of a peculiar friendship.

The pair sat with just the sound of the old AC machine filling the space as Eddie took rolling paper and set it on his thigh. Years of practice came in handy, assembling the blunt in record-breaking time and lighting it with the lighter from his right pocket.

Taking a hit, Steve remembered why he used to smoke frequently, it was soothing. Definitely much easier to take than alcohol which left him groggy and nauseous the following morning.

“So?” Steve began as his friend's shoulders visibly tensed, taking a deep drag and holding it in his chest before it seeped through his cracked lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie falsely assured, picking at a piece of skin beside the nail of his middle finger, and looking down at his lap.

“Cut the crap, dude.” Steve snapped, but regained slight composure at the reminder that Eddie would likely not respond well to hostility, “She told me and Robin what happened.”

The forced laugh sounded bizarre, but he kept up the facade of being annoyed with you for being hurt. In reality, the thought that you went to someone else with a problem instead of him gnawed at him, but it was only because he was the problem.

“I told her from the beginning I didn’t want anything to change, it wasn’t a crime.” Eddie scoffed, gulping when he remembers the disappointment in your eyes, a similar one being in his friends.

He feels a set of chills when he faintly hears your cries from outside his front door in the back of his mind, the smoke on the exhale burning more than usual. He kicked off his tennis shoes, thudding on the floor and rolling twice over. Crossing his legs. he picked at the cut on his hand-ripped jeans.

Steve looked at his friend in silence, the smoke blurring some of his features in the dim light of his room. He wanted to get angry at his words, but he had known him for a few years now and knew there were layers to his emotional presentation.

“What did she say?” Eddie caves, hearing the thumping against his chest in an anxious manner, taking another hit to combat the nerves.

“She said you took her virginity and when she said she liked you, you said you agreed no feelings, that you wouldn’t be made into the bad guy, and that you both need to pretend she didn’t say it.” Steve sighed as his friend winced subtly at the venom in those words, the awaited guilt bubbling, “Remember how Mary made you feel?”

Eddie’s throat constricts at the mention of the mysterious woman he met one night at a bar near Indianapolis, a spur-of-the-moment road trip to see a band he liked when he came across Mary. She had no idea he was seen as a loser and that he was a virgin, she came onto him and he was thriving.

After a quick fuck in the back of his van, he felt overwhelmed as she slipped out the door. His face was flushed as he adjusted his clothes, tossing the condom in a plastic bag he got from the gas station. When he asked if she wanted his phone number, she laughed, pulling down her shirt.

“I don’t roll like that, loverboy.” And she was gone. The intimacy they shared made him believe this was unlike any other time, that she truly was becoming infatuated with him, but she left without a trace.

He hoped he’d be able to win her over until she saw her going into another guy's car, speeding off to the sound of Aerosmith.

The memory upset him, he didn’t like being vulnerable during sex afterward, only doing quick fucks where they both understood what they were agreeing to. The mere mention of her name put him back in that spot, sitting in silence as he watched her walk back into the club.

“That’s not the same thing.” Eddie cringed, passing the weed to his friend who took the final hit before putting it out in the ashtray. Despite the alleviating drug, they both felt the pressure of the actions and the reciprocations.

“You’re right, it’s not,” Steve accepted, giving his friend confusion for a moment, “It’s actually much fucking worse.”

Eddie’s blood began to boil as his insecurity soared, Steve was one of the only people who knew about the incident with Mary, and he only discovered it after Eddie accidentally revealed he wasn’t a virgin anymore. He tried to avoid the harsh rejection, but it was hard to explain the story without it.

“No, it was not, asshole!” Eddie rejected, crossing his arms like a petulant child, that resentment of that night and every time someone left him hanging knotted in his body.

“Really? It’s not?” Steve taunted as Eddie shook his head, “Fucking a stranger and them leaving is worse than being your best friend’s first, someone who stood by you through every time you got yourself into trouble, and when they opened up, you raised your voice at them and said they never said anything?”

The reality of Eddie’s words swiftly made him lose his breath, running a hand through his curls, catching on one of his gaudy rings. Removing his finger, he pulled it from his hair, fiddling with the silver band with a small bat engraving.

The ring had been a gift on Eddie’s 16th birthday from you, secretly saving up most of your money from your summer job to pay for it, and one he never took off.

“Why’d you say it?” Steve asked gently, “It’s not like you man, especially not with her.”

“The last thing I need is to lose her, the greedy part of me couldn’t stomach the thought of her being with someone else either.” He revealed, inadvertently revealing his feelings, “No one would’ve treated her right for her first time.”

“I know you don’t want to tell me how you feel, but you need to tell her. What you did was really fucked up.” Steve added, “It’s okay to be scared, but it’s not fair to hurt people who weren’t. She worked up a lot of courage to do that.”

The mention of courage almost broke his composure, recalling every time you mentioned being terrified of rejection. That your crush on Matthew in freshman year ended terribly when someone told him your feelings, leading to him mocking you in front of everyone.

He hated that he was added to the list of men who did you wrong, even after wanted to beat up every single one before him. He needed to make this write somehow or, at least, soften the aftermath. He had to be something he grew to despise, vulnerable.

Days went by before Eddie finally found the strength to approach you, a sick feeling in his belly that he couldn’t shake as every night passed. He approached your door Thursday evening, his boots sounding against the hollow apartment hallway. He ignored the hidden key by his foot as he knocked, one he would’ve used weeks ago.

The door flew open, the breeze blowing some of the hairs from your glowing face, resting your shoulder against the wood. He fought the urge to slump his shoulders when he saw your face slightly fall, mouth opening to see the tip of your teeth.

“Hey, kid, can we talk?” He adjured, his leather jacket making his skin heat further under the nerves.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You murmured, moving back to allow him in, shutting the door behind him as you went to the living room.

The room was spacious, with a couch from the 70s you had found at a garage sale that Eddie helped you transport it to your home, decorated with blankets and pillows, and a boxy television.

Both of you sat down on the couch, your bare knee touching his denim-clad one, but to his dismay, you move it quickly. He watches as you fidget with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

“How are you?” He asked, scratching his collarbone that had been exposed by his stretched shirt collar.

“I’m fine,” You nodded, “How are you?”

The response was polite, but it wasn’t you. The tight-lipped smile was a facade, not comparable to the radiance your laugh exuted.

“M’okay, wanted to talk to you though.” He replied, turning towards you with a knee on the cushion.

“Okay, I just have a, uh, date tonight so it can’t be too long.” You disclosed, turning towards him as his face dropped, the blood in his veins freezing.

Opening his mouth to respond, he nodded, beginning to play with the rings on his fingers.

A date. You have a date. How could he interject this? What good is it to pour his heart out when you have someone getting ready to see you. He wasn’t one to harbor regrets, but now, he wished more than ever that he hadn’t done what he did.

In that same vein, he also knew he was shit at masking something he cared about when looking them in the eyes. He couldn’t walk out of here with that same weight on his chest. He needed to wrap it in a bow and leave it at your feet as you chose to share it or throw it away. No matter what, it wasn’t just his anymore.

“I’ve been a dick,” Eddie conceded, “I’m sorry for running last week, you didn’t deserve that. I fucked up.”

Even when mad at him, he watched as you softened at his self-depreciation, something you fought with him about. It scared him sometimes when he would realize just how much power you gave one another with the other.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you. At all.” He expresses, the intensity not waning, “As weird as it sounds, I got angry because I knew I felt the same, but I know me. I know my track record, how nothing good ever lasts, and how I screw it up eventually. I- I just can’t lose you.”

Looking at him with a perplexed stare, he saw you contemplating if he was being genuine. You never doubted his sincerity till now, but he could understand why.

“You’re incredible, I don’t know why you’ve been my friend for so long, and why you would let me be your first time.” He exhaled, the faintest smile that didn’t brush his dimples, “You excite me, enchant me, but you scare me.”

Standing to pace, he ran a hand through his valleys of curls, “You scare me because when I was inside you and any other time before, I couldn’t fucking think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” The tears he hadn’t released in years burned as he choked, avoiding your eyesight.

“I know you have a date, so I’m going to go, but I-” He stopped when he saw your feet near his.

He looked up just before you met his lips, hugging him like a vice as he returned it, trapping each other. The shock of what you were doing was prevalent as his lip quivered, hungrily meeting yours.

“I like you too, Eddie. That didn’t change.” You murmured against him as he said a quick reply and kissed you, “I’ve liked you for longer than I’d like to admit.”

Not giving you time to jump, he yanked up your thighs that soon wrapped around his waist. He, thankfully, knew the inside of your apartment like the back of his hand and found your bedroom quickly.

Before he set you down, he pulled away, almost moaning at your puffy lips and glistening eyes.

“What about your date?”

The warmth rose to your cheeks as you pulled yourself closer to his chest, staring downwards. “I lied, I just wanted to see you jealous.”

The fake squawk of repulsion from him made you bite back a smile, seeing his brown eyes enlarged and his pink lips expanded. He dropped you to your bed suddenly, but his body covered yours soon after.

“Well, mission accomplished, I wanted to slash his tires.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled at your giggle, “You’re an absolute, menace.”

As the laughter subsided, the look in his eyes softened as the walls of Jericho fell to rubble. You could see the soft slivers of light brown within, the glass-like quality of the eyes you could see with your own closed.

Pushing his hair back from his face as he did yours, it was almost like seeing one another for the first time. Practically every other aspect of yourselves had been revealed to one another except that one small part. The part that contained the future you had no idea existed yet.

It was in that moment he felt complete tranquility, that everything he fought so hard to protect was safely nestled within your grasp, but he also knew you had been holding it for quite some time now.

“I want you to make love to me, Eddie.” You whispered, your breath fanning his face and stroking all stress-driven crease etched on him.

His agreement was sealed with his mouth, kissing down your neck, lingering on the sensitive points that derived a louder whimper than the one before it. As your eyes fluttered closed, a sharp bite hit your earlobe, making you squeal.

“Eds!” You squirmed, but it was no match for when he placed all his body weight on top of you with a laugh that vibrated you.

“That’s for getting me riled up about your nonexistent boyfriend.” He teased, kissing behind your jaw, rubbing his nose against the soft skin.

“I mean, now I do have a boyfriend.” You sighed, turning your head to meet his throat as he rose, cheek pressing to your forehead. Your lips were so delicate, the scraps of lip balm went to his reddened neck, nibbling on his collarbone.

“Really? Who?” He joked, expecting an extravagant response as he had given you, but he was always surprised by you.

The legs on the bed quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against your core and hands went up his shirt, nails scratching his broad back just enough to leave a temporary mark.

Moaning unabashedly, he buckled his hips against you, fist tightening. Sitting up he tossed his shirt to the ground, smirking as you looked at his body in awe, licking your lips.

He stood to pull off his jeans, getting his right foot stuck in the tight material. Kicking it off in frustration, you watched fondly at his struggle, removing your own clothes until clad in undergarments.

When freed from the denim, he was about to crawl on top of you before he scanned your body, mumbling a blend of curses. Yet, you sat with a shy smile, giggling at his affections toward you.

“Oh, you’re gonna ruin me, kid.”

hi im giving you a hug.

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planet-dusk · 1 year

Note

hybrids!!!! kitty (or even tiger? bobcat?) minho... ive talked about him before on my blog but he gets so angry :< when you smell different when you come home. he definitely makes sure you smell like him again very quickly! sometimes that means he needs to fuck you, too !! if you're dripping in his cum, that means everyone knows you're taken, right? i dunno, possessiveness and minho are just hot always.

hamster hybrid jisungie is so so cute to think about it's actually so soft !! imagine his soft little ears :( i dont have any hard thoughts about that but yeah

what if hamster!hanji is your roommate, and your new boyfriend minho hates smelling him on you. he doesn't say it out loud but his actions speak volumes. the disdain's visible on his face whenever you turn up wearing one of jisung's old sweaters.

is he jealous? you're not sure, and frankly you don't really care... not when it means he'll fuck you so hard you can barely walk home the next day.

but jisung's less than happy with this new arrangement. you assure him minho's not dangerous and would never harm a fly, but hanji's instincts set off all his internal alarms whenever you return practically dripping with your tiger's scent. terror. fear. thrill. something musky and dark that has him gripping his own cock at night, scenes of your fluffy bunny ears and minho's sharp claws playing out against the inside of his eyelids...

determined to make this work, you set up a date so the two can meet. a casual dinner at a public place (better safe than sorry). you're nervous; what if they don't like each other? jisung keeps telling you he'll be fine, it just takes some time for him to get used to large predators. that's all there is to it. look - he's friends with chan, too. he and the wolf hybrid are almost inseparable. he can handle a tiger.

when minho enters it takes you all but a few seconds to realize your mistake. the tilt of his head, the glint in his eyes when they flick from you to jisung and back; minho's not jealous. he's hungry. not the kind of hunger that can be sated with raw steak and pudding, no: the kind of hunger that ends with his face between your thighs and your fingers tugging on his copper hair.

next to you, jisung squirms in his seat.

"so, you're the famous roommate i've heard so much about. it's a pleasure to finally meet you —" a lick of his lips, pretty pout turning into a predatory grin as he shakes jisung's hand, "— in the flesh."

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hellishjoel · 4 months

Text

red

1.3k / pairing: javier peña x f!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Javier Peña doesn't love in black and white - he loves in red. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), allusions to some smutty vibes but no smut, javi in love, reader is described having hair and wears a dress and heels, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n A/N: this is for the lovely @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! congratulations baby <3 this is an ode to you! I was dutifully given the prompt of forehead kisses - and if anyone gives good forehead kisses (see example above) it's obviously javi. lastly thank you @saradika-graphics for the banner!

You’ve got your red dress on tonight.

The one that paints your body in confidence and allure. Dusted in a silky, satin red.

Javi’s never had a favorite color until now.

Your mere presence demands attention and captures the longing gazes of all who inhabit the room you grace with your stride. You dazzle, you shine, and you’re self-assured.

Your anniversary falls on a rainy night in Bogotá. Thunder claps outside, echoing each step he takes up your apartment stairwell. He brings red roses, a fresh bouquet to honor the importance today holds.

One year. That’s four seasons of love that Javier has never felt before.

He wraps his rough knuckles against your door and listens patiently to your delicate steps on the other side.

“Oh, Javi,” you breathe with a pearly smile, “they’re beautiful.” You thank him with a kiss on his stubbled cheek and he squeezes your hip in return, feeling the soft satin of your dress dancing beneath his fingertips.

That fucking red dress.

It transports him to a warm summer night, where the sun blazed an orange-yellow hue across the horizon. Ice-cold drinks giving him the courage to ask you for a dance. Your perfume, that smile, those eyes. Dancing in close proximity, your bodies dripping in sweat as Javi took the lead, your heels clicking across the old wood floors of the cantina. But that was many moons ago. The first dress he ever saw you in, still his favorite.

“Anything for you, hermosa.”

And he knows you by now. Knows to make a late dinner reservation to allow you extra time to get ready. It’s a process, you’ve told him. He sits at the edge of your bed and watches you in silent admiration.

Your bedroom is cloaked in darkness, the only illumination coming from the candlesticks, their gentle orange flames flickering in the breeze wafting through the open balcony doors. Outside, raindrops perform a delicate dance on the metal roof, creating a mesmerizing symphony of tinny notes.

Like an angel, you float across the room. Where are your wings? Where is your halo? Maybe left long ago in that cantina where you traded them for Javi. But you’re still an angel in his eyes, the most beautiful goddess he’s ever seen, the woman he praises day and especially night. In the lap of his lover, he is never alone.

He notes how articulately you pick your accessories, bringing earrings up to your lobe and seeing how they complement the look. Maybe a necklace—no, the bracelet he bought you a few months back. He smirks at the sight, and you catch his gaze in the vanity mirror.

Javi wonders why he showers you with gifts - maybe a hint of possession, more so that he thinks you deserve the finer things he can offer you. And you’ve always been so gracious and excited with every gift wrap you delicately tear or ribbon you untie. Money doesn’t matter compared to that million-dollar smile.

“Javi, pick my perfume for me, will you?”

And now, getting ready becomes a two-person job. But he likes this part; he likes dressing you up, picking your lingerie in the shops, and choosing which heels you wear. There's an undeniable allure in your reliance on him, allowing him to fulfill the role of being essential in your life. Needed.

He chooses a sweet-scented perfume—not blossomy, more like vanilla and cinnamon—sweet enough to fit your personality, thick enough to make him drunk on you. With his eyes closed and lost in a room full of people, he could find you. And he would.

“Heels?” He offers, already opening your closet and staring at the different colored stilettos and slingbacks.

“Yes, please, baby.” You coo, delighting in his attentive presence as the melody of your perfume fills the air, each spritz a tender caress upon your neck, shoulders, and a playful touch in your tousled hair.

He bends down to one knee and guides your hand on his shoulder.

You hum sweetly, nails grazing the back of his neck and gently scratching the base of his scalp. His jet-black hair is soft and thick, weaving perfectly between your fingers.

He wasn’t always like this, so warm. He was all the things he wanted to appear as, strong and confident. But that was all an exterior façade, one that took months to slowly chip away at like a chisel to marble.

A boulder was in place of his heart, only growing larger and harder with trauma. Each painful memory, each betrayal and loss added another layer to the stone, making it more impenetrable and cold. Eventually, the weight of it threatened to crush his spirit entirely, leaving him numb and distant from the world around him.

But then you came along, chipping away at the hardened exterior with your warmth and kindness. Your presence began to erode the layers of pain and sorrow, softening the edges of the boulder. Slowly, bit by bit, you managed to reach the core of his heart, bringing light and hope where there had once been only darkness.

Javier Peña had fallen in love.

“You’re so handsome, Javi,” you praise, “I love you.” The sentiment never grows old. You feel Javi’s head move in and gently place a kiss on the inside of your thigh, just below the hem of your dress. Goosebumps quickly sprinkle across your skin. He always has such an effect on you.

“Estoy enloquecido por ti,” Javi purrs as he lifts your ankle and slips the heel onto your foot, careful fingers buckling the strap around your ankle. You point your toes admiringly, allowing him to work on the next heel.

As he stands, his fingers skim up your sides and his height looms over you. His cologne melts your inhibitions, forcing a subtle sigh from cherry-lacquered lips.

His forehead rests against yours, letting the magnetic charge between you both finally reach its peak. His nose brushes against your own, mascaraed lashes fluttering closed.

Just as Javi moves in to place a kiss on your lips, you’re quick to gently rest a hand against his chest. The moment pauses and your eyes dance.

“I just put my lipstick on,” You whisper and softly giggle.

Javi breaks into a small smirk. His woman has priorities.

The lipstick is a fantastic red, soft, and a little dangerous. It's subtle, but also not subtle at all. Like the color was made for you, a perfect shade that heightens your beauty and charisma. You’re an artist, the way you perfectly glide the lipstick across your pillow-soft lips; not a smudge or mistake is made.

“You’re right, mi querido.” Javier reroutes his path, closes his eyes, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The subtle gesture is just as good as a kiss to the lips, maybe even better. It wraps around you like a warm hug and it stays there long after he’s gone. Your insides dance with a delightful flutter, a warmth cascading down your spine, enveloping you in a sensation akin to heaven itself.

You nuzzle your nose against his own and sigh peacefully, feeling Javier’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Do you like my dress, Javi?”

He playfully hums as his fingers teasingly graze the fabric, gently squeezing the globes of your ass beneath it.

“Love it,” he damn near growls.

You swiftly swat his wandering hands away, sensing his desire to tug at the material. If you stay in your bedroom any longer, you fear you’ll miss the standing dinner reservation you’ve had for well over a week.

You reward him with a kiss on his neck and you distantly taste his aftershave.

Javi adores the beautiful mark you leave on his neck, a lingering stain that refuses to be simply wiped away with a napkin and water. It remains a constant reminder of you until he showers, and he thinks about you all over again. You’re forever there, forever his.

He stares at your figures in the mirror, wrapped up in one another.

One kiss on his tan skin, and he’s no longer Javier Peña. He’s yours.

Yours in red.

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steves-sub · 4 months

Text

Time for Action

Dark!Team Cap (Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Wanda) x innocent!female reader

Summary: The team's plan is finally going into action.

warning: Non-con drugging, hypnosis, deceiving people

A/N: I couldn't leave you hanging, so I'm back to finish the series. A lot has changed for me since I started this journey. I'm in a much better place now – happier, healthier, and pursuing my passion for special education. I also found love, which has greatly impacted my life. I may not be writing again anytime soon, but I'll always be grateful for the support of this community. These stories kept me going when things were tough, and I hope they bring you as much joy as you've brought me.

tags: @rihannabale @sideeve @apollosouls-blog @luvfromdixiedoll @chemtrails-club

The long-awaited day had finally come. After carefully applying your makeup and smoothing out your dress, you couldn't contain your excitement about spending time with Steve and his friends. To mark the occasion, you even wore a new dress - a lovely white sundress adorned with sunflowers, a charming nod to Steve's nickname.

As I heard a "ding" from my cell phone, I walked over to check it. To my surprise, it was a message from Steve saying, "Be there in 5 minutes." Despite my insistence on biking, Steve was determined to drive me. "You are a princess; you should be treated like one," he said with a smile. This level of care and consideration from a friend was something I had never experienced before.

As the sound of the car pulling up reached your ears, you gracefully descended the stairs, your luscious curls bouncing with each step. The scent of Steve's potent cologne wafted through the air as you closed the door behind you. Glancing back, you caught sight of him emerging from his car, clad in a crisp white button-down and navy pants. It seemed impossible, but your attraction to him intensified in that moment. As Steve made his way towards you, you could have sworn you heard a low growl escape him. "Wow, y/n, you truly are a sunflower. You look absolutely stunning, my darling," his words caused a rush of warmth to flood your cheeks."

“Thank you, Steve! I chose this dress specifically for this occasion. I hoped to leave a lasting impression on your friends." Steve enveloped you in a warm embrace, and as he did, you thought you felt his hand subtly moving towards your lower back, but before you could dwell on it, he gently pulled away. "Don't worry too much; I'm sure they will adore you, just like I do," he assured you with a playful touch on your nose, causing you to let out a spontaneous giggle. Steve gracefully circled around you and gallantly opened the door of his sleek black car, a vehicle worth more than your annual salary. "Step in, my princess. Your carriage awaits," he declared as he entered the vehicle himself and closed the door behind you.

As he settled into the driver's seat, he reached behind him and retrieved a water bottle. "The drive might take a while, so I brought you a water bottle," he said with a warm smile. You accepted the bottle, returning his smile, and twisted off the cap. The water had an unusual taste, but you didn't want to cause any inconvenience. Keeping your thoughts to yourself, you continued on your journey.

After half an hour of casual conversation with Steve, he steered onto a narrow dirt road. "It's just a short drive down this road, and then we'll be there," he reassured, gently taking your hand. "Don't worry, sunflower. I promise they will adore you," he repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. Throughout the journey, Steve did his best to ease your nerves, chatting with you and offering you sips of that peculiar water. While you did start to feel more at ease, the anticipation still made you jittery. Finally, he pulled up to an exquisite house. "Wow," you marveled as you gazed out the window, "you guys live here?" You had little knowledge about Steve and never would have guessed that he was well-off. "Yeah," he chuckled, "my friends and I have been renovating this house for a while. It's our retirement plan."

I turned to look at Steve, my face twisted in confusion. "Retirement plan? You're not even 40!" Steve chuckled once again at my comment. "Well, we all needed a break, so we decided to come up here for a bit," he spoke as he expertly parked the car in the circle driveway. "Are you ready?" he asked, extending his hand towards me. I took his hand in mine and squeezed it, replying, "Ready." He smiled back at me as he exited the car to open the door for me.

As the two of you approached the door, Steve reached out and turned the handle, allowing the door to swing open. "Hey guys, we're here!" he called out, his voice echoing through the seemingly empty house. Suddenly, the distinct sound of clicking heels filled the air, and a young redhead in a vibrant red coat appeared before you. "Oh my gosh, you're here!" she exclaimed, enveloping you in a warm, enthusiastic hug. "Steve has not stopped talking about you. You’re Y/n, right? I'm Wanda," she said with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you too! I wish I could say the same about you," you teased, playfully nudging Steve's arm. "Oh, that's just Steve. He's a pretty reserved person. Come in, come in, everyone’s in the kitchen," Wanda said, taking the lead as she ushered you inside. Following her lead, you kicked off your sandals and made your way into the inviting warmth of the kitchen. "See, not so bad," Steve remarked quietly. "Yeah, Wanda seems super nice," you agreed. "And we're only just getting started," Steve added, gently holding your hand as you both stepped into the bustling kitchen.

The two of us walked into the kitchen and spotted the rest of the group. A striking redhead in a sleek black dress perched on the counter, enjoying a glass of wine. A confident black man was busy setting up the table, while another man with a metallic arm was hard at work in the kitchen. Wanda caught their attention and introduced me with a warm smile, prompting the others to follow suit. The redhead, Natasha, strolled over to me and greeted me affectionately. "I'm Natasha. Your dress is stunning; I can see why Steve calls you sunflower," she remarked with a smirk, casting a glance at Steve as she embraced me. "Thank you, yours is gorgeous as well," I replied.

The man who was setting the table made his way over to us. "So, this is the famous Y/N Steve can't stop talking about? I can see why," he said with a warm smile as he confidently walked over. "Sam Wilson, nice to meet you," he said as he extended his hand. I couldn't help but giggle as I looked at his hand. "Thank you; you are all super kind to me," I replied with a smile. "Well, Steve said you were a special friend, so you deserve to feel special," the last man said as he extended his hand for a handshake. "Bucky Barnes, we are so happy you are here," he said warmly. I couldn't help but feel grateful for the kindness of these people and how lucky Steve must be to have such thoughtful friends. "Told you they would love you, sunflower," Steve said as he brought me in for a side hug.

As I made my way towards the counter where Natasha was, Bucky informed me that dinner would be ready in a few minutes. He listed the menu as salad, pasta, chicken, brussels sprouts, and homemade mini cakes courtesy of Wanda. Natasha then offered me a glass of wine. I accepted and requested a Pinot Grigio, and as she went to the fridge, she discreetly took a small vial of clear liquid from the refrigerator before leaving the kitchen with Steve following her.

Once they reached the wine cellar, Natasha's eyes sparkled with excitement as she deftly grabbed the bottle she sought. "Everything ready?" Steve inquired, wrapping his arms around her waist. Their relationship had evolved into one of friends with benefits since they had been on the run, but now they no longer needed to rely on such arrangements. "As long as she drank the water you gave her, then we will be set," Natasha confirmed, setting the wine glass on the counter and retrieving the vial. "She doesn't feel anything right now; she's just relaxed. This, however, will make her more open to our suggestions and make her easier to seduce. We will have her in our hands in no time." Natasha finished pouring the wine and closed the bottle with a sense of determination. "I wanted to have her right then and there when I saw her in that sundress. She has no idea what she is doing to me," Steve confessed. "Soon, Steve, soon," Natasha called out to Steve as she returned to the party, him following closely behind.

Natasha and Steve glided into the room, Natasha holding a delicate glass of wine. "Here you go, angel," Natasha said as she gracefully handed the glass to the recipient. "Perfect timing, the food is ready," Bucky exclaimed. "Do you need help with anything?" you kindly asked the cooks. "Nonsense, you are our guest. Go have a seat; we will be over shortly," Wanda said as she expertly opened the oven. The rest of the group approached the table, which Sam meticulously set. You found yourself seated between Steve and Natasha, with Sam, Bucky, and Wanda on the other side.

Steve rose from his chair with a beer in hand as the delicious food was placed on the table, and everyone took their seats. "I would like to propose a toast to Y/N," he announced, causing a flutter in your stomach as everyone smiled at you. "Thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. I feel that this evening will be etched in our memories forever. Cheers!" he exclaimed, raising his glass as everyone followed suit. It was clear that tonight was going to be truly extraordinary.

After an hour had passed, not a morsel of food remained, and the plates sparkled clean. It had been quite some time since you felt so carefree and relaxed, and the feeling was beautiful. As Wanda and Bucky shared a hilarious story, you found yourself laughing along with them while the others tidied up after dinner. Natasha approached you with another glass of wine, but you declined, explaining to her with a tinge of sadness that you and Steve would have to leave soon. The evening had been so enjoyable that you wished it wouldn't end. "Don't worry, sweetie. You're more than welcome to spend the night if you'd like," Steve called out from the kitchen. "But I don't have anything with me for an overnight stay," you quickly pointed out.

"We have a spare bedroom, and you can borrow some sweats. Seriously, don't sweat about it," Wanda said with a warm smile. "Are you sure about that?" you questioned Wanda, feeling grateful for her hospitality. "We are positive," Natasha responded reassuringly as she once again handed the glass to you, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Okay, okay. But this is the last glass; I'm starting to feel the effects of drinking," you commented, letting out a light-hearted laugh. Unbeknownst to you, the group exchanged knowing glances, anticipation for their plan evident in their eyes.

As Steve suggested heading to the living room to wrap up the evening, he approached you and gently massaged your shoulders. You yawned, feeling the wine's effects, and quickly apologized for your drowsiness. "Sorry, I just got sleepy. This wine might be stronger than I thought," you chuckled. As you stood up and headed to the living room, you noticed your vision becoming blurry, causing you to lose your balance.

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" Bucky asked, his concerned gaze fixed on you. "I just feel a bit dizzy. Do you mind if I go to bed early?" you inquired, steadying yourself against the back of the couch. "Why don't you lie down next to me? It might help," suggested Steve as he came over to you. You hoped that his suggestion would bring some relief as Steve gently guided you to the plush couch. He positioned you in the center, and everyone respectfully kept their distance, allowing you some space.

You heard a gentle buzzing sound beginning and looked around to locate its source. "What's that noise?" you asked as you attempted to sit up, but the throbbing in your head persisted. "Oh, it's just some soft music. It's meant to help you relax," Wanda reassured you as you felt Steve gently guide your head back onto his shoulder where it had been resting. In front of you, the TV displayed a captivating screen saver. It consisted of black and white squares merging into each other. Strangely, it was pretty soothing and difficult to look away from.

As you commented on the intriguing screen, you noticed your speech slowing down unintentionally. In response, Sam softly remarked, "Yeah, I know. It came with the TV. We tried to change it but couldn't figure it out." Unbeknownst to you, Wanda had silently approached from behind. Her hand emitted a crimson magical energy that flowed into your head, inducing a sudden and profound relaxation.

"It's not too bad; it can be quite relaxing to look at. Don't you think it's relaxing?" Wanda asked, her words echoing in your mind whenever she mentioned "relaxing." "Relaxing?" you mumbled sleepily. "Yes, darling, relaxing," Steve whispered into your ear as he gently brushed some hair away from your face, ensuring your gaze remained fixed on the screen before you. Despite your efforts to look away, it was difficult to resist.

As your eyelids grew heavier, it became increasingly difficult to keep them open. "Are you getting sleepy over there, my lovely sunflower?" Steve softly chuckled. You attempted to shake your head, but the effort was futile. "It's okay to relax and sleep, darling. Just close your eyes and let go," Bucky's voice whispered. "I don't want to," you replied in the faintest of whispers.

Natasha's soothing voice filled the room as she said, "Why not? It's okay to relax and sleep. To close those heavy eyes and sleep." Her gentle hand massaged my shoulders, lulling me into an even deeper state of relaxation. "Sleep?" I questioned. Steve let out a chuckle and reassured me, "That's right, honey, just sleep for me. I'll keep you safe. Just close those heavy, heavy eyes and sleep for me." Each word from Steve felt like a gentle command, and I found myself unable to resist as I followed his instructions, succumbing to the irresistible urge to close my heavy eyelids.

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