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#please give this old man mercy
answersfromzestual · 3 months
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Tag Your Posts
I have something to say, and it's actually terrifying for me to admit it to you all. I may lose some of you...
If you post about the war, please tag it.
If you do not tag and I follow you, first you will be unfollowed. If you show up on my dash again randomly talking about that topic without tags, I will block you from access to this blog...
I am in a lot of mental distress, and I do not want to hear about the war here, on tumblr, where I come to get away. I fear for my life every day, please understand.
I do have tags blocked. All I am asking is that you tag your posts and reblogs about the war, either side.
Please give me some respite from this constant pain and fear, please.
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unboundprompts · 2 months
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Pirate Terms and Phrases
-> Pirate Lingo
-> A Pirate's Glossary
Batten Down The Hatches - tie everything down and put stuff away for a coming storm.
Brig - a prison on a ship.
Bring a Spring Upon 'er - turn the ship in a different direction
Broadside - the most vulnerable angle of a ship that runs the length of the boat.
Cutlass - a thick, heavy and rather short sword blade.
Dance with Jack Ketch - to hang; death at the hands of the law (Jack Ketch was a famed English executioner).
Davy Jones's Locker - a mythical place at the bottom of the ocean where drowned sailors are said to go.
Dead Men Tell No Tales - the reason given for leaving no survivors.
Flogging - severe beating of a person.
Gangplank - removable ramp between the pier and ship.
Give No Quarter - show no mercy.
Jack - flag flown at the front of the ship to show nationality.
Jolly Roger - black pirate flag with a white skull and crossbones.
Keelhaul - a punishment where someone is dragged under the ship. They are cut by the planks and barnacles on the bottom of the ship.
Landlubber - an inexperienced or clumsy person who doesn't have any sailing skills.
Letters of Marque - government-issued letters allowing privateers the right to piracy of another ship during wartime.
Man-O-War - a pirate ship that is decked out and prepared for battle.
Maroon - to leave someone stranded on a. deserted island with no supplies, typically a punishment for any crew members who disrespected the captain.
Mutiny - a situation in which the crew chooses a new captain, sometimes by forcibly removing the old one.
No Prey, No Pay - a common pirate law that meant crew members were not paid, but rather received a share of whatever loot was taken.
Old Salt - experienced pirate or sailor.
Pillage - to steal/rob a place using violence.
Powder Monkeys - men that performed the most dangerous work on the ship. They were treated harshly, rarely paid, and were expendable.
Privateer - government-appointed pirates.
Run A Shot Across the Bow - fire a warning shot at another boat's Captain.
Scurvy - a disease caused by Vitamin C Deficiency.
Sea Legs - when a sailor adjusts his balance from riding on a boat for a long time.
Strike Colors - lower a ship's flag to indicate surrender.
Weigh Anchor and Hoist the Mizzen - an order to the crew to pull up the anchor and get the ship sailing.
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sukunas-wife · 4 months
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Sealed 2
1 3
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“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.
Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.
“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”
“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.
“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.
❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️
It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.
Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”
“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”
“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”
❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️
“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”
It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.
Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”
He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”
He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”
“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.
“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”
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The Powder Keg
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John Price has just spent the whole afternoon teaching his new recruit how to shoot, and after pining for her all day, he’s about ready to burst, just like a powder keg…
Hot, steaming water sprayed out of the shower head and soaked his burnt, pink skin. When he took in a deep breath, it was humid and heavy, filling his lungs with more moisture than air, leaving him panting and weak from the heat of it. But, he let it suffocate him. He allowed it to obfuscate his senses, to coat his mouth like a gag, to stop him from calling out for her. John Price was so damn close to forgetting himself. He pulled his imaginary muzzle tighter, just in case.
He’d spent the better part of the day in the frigid sands in some Urzikstani Green zone, teaching his new sergeant to shoot his M-16. She was a good marksman, but she was unfamiliar with the desert’s unforgiving winds, and she needed to see how he had set his sights. It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to help her, and if he was before Peter at those gates of pearl and splendor, forced to tell the truth, he had chosen to keep her there. He’d been selfish, preferring to watch her laying there, prone and panting, firing bullet after bullet, all to please her captain. It was the betrayal of the sun that had ruined his gluttony. It had set behind the dunes, forcing John to come indoors and try to wash off all of his sin. 
Price had been hard all day. Seeing her plump arse in those canvas pants, looking down at her, concentrating and vulnerable in the sand… it was enough to drive him wild. Now, here he was, gripping his heavy rod like a teenager, squeezing himself tight enough to see stars. 
The soap and the suds had all washed away, but the billowing steam had remained. He felt each scalding droplet stinging against his sun-ravaged skin, and he used it like a million little flogs, punishing himself for his thoughts of her. She, in the inky blackness of his mind, had been… everywhere. She was stripping for him, peeling away each article of clothing, each layer of her uniform with calculated effort, revealing herself to him bit by bit. He was watching as her fingers dug into the band of her pants, sliding them down her thick thighs, showing off her tattooed skin, uncovering scars like tiny secrets. Secrets only he could know. 
She was grabbing his cock. It was her hand tugging him hard, not his. Her palm slipping over his rosy head, her fingers slipping his foreskin down his shaft, her mouth…
“Unghh…” John leaned against the cold tile, trying to calm himself down. His forehead dug into the white ceramic, rolling across it, trying to find some relief to his torment.
He knew her mouth would feel so sweet. She would plant a delicate little kiss on the top of it, wouldn’t she? She was so kind. She would be so kind to him. An old dog who didn’t deserve it. Not one lick. And yet, she would lick him. Her tongue would lap around his thick base, purring at his size, gassing him up, pumping his ego. Maybe it would be the truth. Either way, he’d buy it; hook, line, and sinker. 
“Baby, baby, baby…” He’d name her. She’d be his. His woman. His everything. She’d steal his breath like this impenetrable steam.
The tip of her tongue would find that ridge, the one tucked under his head, the one just below his hole, and she’d suckle at it, just as if she was pulling venom from a snake bite, like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. 
Maybe she would be willing to sit across his lips, giving herself to him like a feast to a starving man. She would taste like nectar, and it would coat his tongue, sticky and cloying, painting his palate and filling his nose. He would learn her scent, burying himself into it, finding himself within her taste and her warmth. 
Then, mercifully, perhaps she would take him inside of her, deep into her body. He would sink into her, down into her depths. Engulfed. Surrounded. At her mercy. Perhaps she would use those soft muscles to hold him in, to clutch at him like a hungry, suckling mouth. 
His hand tightened around his head and the rhythmic milking noises of his self-made pleasure filled the tiny shower like a perpetual echo. He began to fuck his grip, rutting wildly into his palm, coating his callused skin in precome. He was dripping from the shower, but nothing was slipperier than his wet pleasure. It made his cock slide even faster through his huge hand, helping his head burrow itself into his fingers. 
John wanted it to be real. He dreamt, with his eyes squeezed shut, of the way her legs would part for him, spread like the petals of a flower, soft and pliant like a little, pink rose. As he jerked his hand across his pulsing head, he imagined what it would be like to rub himself amongst her delicate folds. He almost came from the thought, shuddering, catching himself against the wall, whimpering like he was pressing into a bruise. 
A little faster. A little more friction. He grunted, unable to hold his voice inside of him, desperate and feral. 
Her eyes, gleaming and beautiful, looking up at him, calling his name. 
And that was enough to do it. He came, crying out for her…
“Oh, fuck… baby…” 
“Captain?”
His blood went cold, and when he heard her voice, he froze, letting his come leak out of his balls, coating his hands and flooding over his knuckles. 
The curtain hissed as she pulled it away from the wall, her eyes traveling all over his body, appraising him and approving. She smiled, a little coy,
“Got room for one more?”
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hopelessromantic5 · 3 months
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King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.
Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.
As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.
He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.
The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.
No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.
He’d resigned himself to an early death.
Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”
Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.
In the distance, he could hear a sound.
The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.
Visitors were approaching.
It must be fate, he thinks.
As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.
Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.
“What is the meaning of this?”
A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.
“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.
Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.
“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.
“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“
“What has he done?”
“Sire?”
“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.
“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.
Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.
“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.
“So this man-“
“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.
“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”
Again no answer.
The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.
The doomed boy nearly gasped.
Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.
The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.
Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.
“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.
Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.
“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“
“I am not my father. Cut him down.”
Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.
What a prince he was.
Well, King, now.
No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.
“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.
Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.
The sound of salvation.
Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.
“I said, cut him down.”
The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.
Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.
Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.
Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.
He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.
As was-
“What is your name?”
It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.
He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.
“Merlin.”
The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.
“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”
Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.
King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.
“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.
The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said
“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.
Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.
Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.
Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.
Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.
“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.
“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”
Merlin sighed into her shoulder.
“Alright.”
When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.
Merlin was starting to warm to him already.
“Can I pack first?”
King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.
“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”
“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.
If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.
And perhaps, one knowing mother.
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cyberm4n · 2 months
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NSFW Alphabet for Alastor, Vox and Husk if you don’t mind pretty please!
as you wish :)
NSF/W ALPHABET
feat. alastor, vox, and husk
i wrote this over the span of a week and for a good portion of this i was pretty drunk so my apologies if it gets messy
A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
alastor would recognize the need for aftercare but like as soon as you're fine and happy he's done with this whole ordeal. especially if you're someone who needs cuddles he will tolerate it until the exact moment you don't need him to.
vox tbh gives the vibes of like, he doesn't entirely think aftercare is necessary so only if he's in a good mood will he settle in and take care of you after.
husk is 100% all in on aftercare. you need water? done. need a towel? he's got them ready. anything you need he has it or will do it. he'd probably be SUPER big on cuddling though but he'd never admit it. he does get sleepy very easily tho.
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
alastor doesn't seem the type to have a favorite body part but if he did it would be your neck. sorry.
vox is definitely an ass man 100% he always appreciates some ass
husk i feel would be particular about your hands, idk why he just gives that vibe.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
alastor is a big fan of cumming inside, leaving a mark on you
vox is 50/50 but he usually leans towards facials
husk is a creampier but in a more like intimate way.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
i don't imagine alastor having a dirty secret but i 100% think vox has fuck machines and husk is lowkey into bdsm (the more tamer parts)
E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
i think in order of most experience to least it would be: vox, husk, alastor. i think alastor would have some experience but he doesn't do that stuff a lot yk, husk has definitely fucked before and knows his way around and i solidly think vox is an absolute sexual deviant and is the most experienced by far.
F= Favorite position
alastor is anything that establishes him a a dominant. thinking like a mating press cause he'd want to see your face but doggy style also works.
vox is a cowgirl enjoyer, or anything where you're on top of him. he likes watching you do the work.
husk probably trends to more vanilla like missionary but i don't think he'd have a favorite. he definitely likes anything where he can see your face though.
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
alastor would be super serious i think, vox is like mostly serious/intense but sometimes he's just in a silly mood and i think husk is always a little bit relaxed about it, unless it's something really intimate then he's being all romantic and shit.
H= Hair (grooming habits)
alastor is well groomed when he anticipates having sex whereas husk is well groomed regardless, and vox i think is the kind to always keep it hairless down there
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
alastor is almost always rough but CAN be a little bit softer. same with vox, both of them are doing it with the intention fo dominating you.
husk is 50/50 can be either tbh. in a relationship he'd prly lean more towards something sappy and intimate.
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
i don't see alastor masturbating at all tbh. sorry i know that's such a boring hc but like, i just don't see it happening.
vox 100% does, favorite way to blow off steam if you're not there. remember the fuck machines from earlier? yeah dude prly has a plethora of sex toys.
husk does but not often, like a normal amount. if he's feeling in the mood and you're not there or not in the mood as well he does mind it. he'd do the old man huff thing when undoing his pants tho.
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
alastor would be pretty into choking and irgasm denial or like dubious consent. some form of cnc or just something that makes him feel like youre at his mercy. i think vox is in a similar boat but he'd be into the mirror kink or whatever it's called where you have sex infront of a mirror. husk would be into somno and overstim i think
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
alastor would be into privacy, given the fact he's like dominating you he wants the space to do so
vox doesn't care but in his office is where the majority of it would happen i think. he seems the type to rage the fuck out at his desk and need his little doll come make him feel better :(
husk is a bedroom guy but on the off chance the hotel is dead quiet you might be able to convince him into something in the parlor
M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
alastor is domination and owning you, vox is a mixture of possessiveness and genuinely wanting to get off, husk is all in for pleasure and pleasing you
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
alastor would never bottom, like ever. it doesn't matter how much you ask that man is never submitting to you
vox i don't think there's much but he's not into being dommed i don't think. it's a very thin line though because like sometimes he'd like to just be a bit mindless and get fucked and pampered more
husk would never do really rough play. anything that involves straight up hurting you is a big no
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
alastor would be a giving guy i think. not that he wouldn't enjoy you giving him head but it's a power thing right, when he goes down on you and you're writhing beneath him? it's heaven. skill wise 7/10
vox is a receiving guy, he loves watching you suck him off. i think he'd go down on you if you asked but it's not his first thought yk. skill wise 4-5/10
husk is a 50/50 again but i think he's more partial to receiving. something about you on your knees and taking care of him like that is so mesmerizing. skill wise 8/10
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
alastor could last for a really long time tbh despite the powerplay it's also mostly about your pleasure to dominate you. he'd be fast pace wise though
vox is about average for how long he lasts, there's somedays he's a little fast and he'd lowkey get embarrassed if you teased him. he's fast pace wise but it depends on how close he is.
husk is average but it also depends on what you're doing. anytime you give him head he's very quick to cum, and he'd such a fan of it tbh. he'd be a wildcard pace wise, really depends what you want him to do.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
alastor doesn't like quickies at all, he likes time to do this shit properly
vox LOVES quickies idk if i need to elaborate more
husk isn't a fan of quickies but occasionally appreciates them.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
alastor is 50/50 if it has anything to do where he has less power then no but if it's just something more he could do then yes!
vox is a cautious yes, but it's very unclear to me whether he'd want to just be an in the moment thing or like discussed before hand. he seems like the kind to randomly pull out a move midsex and gage your reaction
husk i think he leans closer to no, in his opinion the way he's doing things seem great so why complicate it more? but if you really want to try something he will
S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
alastor can go quite a lot of rounds I think, like each round is around the same, the only reason he's stopping is if he thinks you physically can't take it anymore
vox can go like 2-4 rounds i think but they definitely get shorter as he goes. you're only making it to round 4 if he's had a rough day
husk is like max 2 id say. second round gets a lot shorter and he REALLY relies on you helping him out for both of you to reach climax.
T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
alastor and vox yes but alastor could lowkey get possessive for no fucking reason. idk why he just seems the type to be a bit condescending especially if you have sex later.
husk is a no, i think. like if the activity required a toy then sure but he definitely doesn't have toys unless you were adamant about using them he wouldn't suggest it. i think he might get insecure he's not making you feel good enough though :(
U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
alastor teases a lot but he's not a fan of when you tease him. if you do any sort of bratty shit he's 100% putting a swift end to it, but he does like the challenge. he seems like he might be into total denial so it's a dangerous game for you
vox teases and doesn't mind being teased but i think he's the kind to get frustrated if you're being a brat in public
husk is SUCH a tease. like you wouldn't really expect it but it's just little things in public with affection while no one is looking. during the actual act he's not one to tease much though
V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
alastor grunts fr but like i think that'd be about it. other than little coy comments and some degrading praises he's pretty quiet
vox on the other hand MOANS. if you tease him abt it he will get so fucking mad. but like he's definitely loud asf too.
husk is a groaner but he also moans. he's like a medium level i guess? more on the quiet side, i don't see him getting loud
W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)
alastor really likes marking and will do so. like one minute you're just lying in bed, the next you're on his lap as he digs his teeth into your neck.
vox really likes handjobs idk why but he just does. something about watching you jerk him off gets him going
husk likes making out while fucking. like he's the kind to give you the sloppiest of kisses while he ruts into you.
X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
skipping cause i feel like it's been answered thoroughly, they all have cocks that vary in size and grooming.
Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)
alastor has a low sex drive, mostly dependant on your needs. if you hc he's asexual then it's mostly on you to get him going or atleast express interest
vox has a higher sex drive but not crazy. dude mostly just likes to destress and fucking is a fun way to do that.
husk is average. but when he's feeling in the mood he makes it pretty clear.
Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
alastor doesn't sleep after very often, unless you very specifically ask and he feels like you need him.
vox depending on the circumstances goes to sleep pretty quickly, like he'll do some basic aftercare and if he feels like you're fine he's dozing off.
husk is a sleeper but he'd make sure he stays awake long enough to make sure you're fine. since he's big on cuddling he'd be drifting off, murmuring in your ear and asking if you're okay before he finally goes to sleep.
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usoratonkachi · 2 years
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literaila · 2 months
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emotions
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you and megumi discuss how terrible satoru is
warnings: little spat between gojo and megumi, reader is the only sane one, lil fluff, and pining ofc
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*
year three.
you're used to the door slamming open every day when they get home--and you've given up on scolding all of your family members about it--but what you're not used to is megumi storming through the door, his aura a dark and stormy color as he walks by you, not even bothering to look your way, and slamming the door to his room. all within a good three seconds. 
and, okay. you blink, trying to comprehend him, or what just happened. 
satoru comes in next, slower, more peaceful, shutting the front door softly like it'll make up for megumi's actions. for whatever he probably did. 
you immediately turn towards him, frowning. "what'd you do?" 
"why did i have to do something?" satoru asks, scoffing. "the kid is a glorified teenager. or an old man. he's moody." 
"yeah, but he didn't even say hi to me," you cross your arms, trying to analyze his body language and the twitch of his lips. 
satoru waves a hand at you. "join the club." 
"seriously. is he okay?" 
satoru kicks at the floor, mumbling something indecipherable under his breath. 
"satoru." 
he looks up, almost pouting. 
"what happened?" 
"i was just teasing him--" he's already pleading for mercy, taking a step towards you with his arms out. "i didn't even say anything bad. i just said something about his attitude, and he told me to leave him alone, and i... i didn't do anything!" he swears. 
and you both know that he's lying. you sigh, shaking your head at him. 
"did you listen when he told you to stop?" 
"no," satoru says, with a fake smile. 
"then you did something," you take a step away from him, watching as he slides off his jacket, then his glasses. "what were you teasing him about?" 
"he was telling me about some kids at school. i guess they're scared of him, or something." 
you raise a brow. 
his hand gestures to megumi's room, helplessly. "you know him and i like to mess with each other, i didn't think that he would... get upset." 
you almost laugh, because he looks so guilty, unknowing, and childish. and you can tell--by a mere glance--that satoru feels bad, and doesn't want to admit that. 
you snort, still shaking your head. this man is the sole cause of all of your problems. "okay, well you should apologize to him, and listen when he asks you to do something--" 
"no." 
"excuse me?" 
"will you talk to him instead?" he pleads, tilting his head at you. "you're so much better with him, and he'll listen to you." 
"satoru," you frown. "i didn't do anything. megumi doesn't need an apology from me." 
"but he's just going to yell at me," he whines, body flailing pathetically as he emphasizes this point. "and he's scary when he yells." 
"he's nine." 
satoru shakes his head. 
you flick his forehead. "honestly, all you have to do is say that you were wrong. easy." 
"i don't wanna say that," he mumbles, feebly, crossing his arms like a toddler.
you groan. "satoru--" 
"i have to go pick up tsumiki anyway. please? just talk to him? do you really want him to sit in his room all alone and be all gloomy?" 
satoru's lip twitches because he knows that he's got you there. just the idea of megumi brooding alone is enough to break you. 
you scowl at him, crossing your arms with a knowing glance. "i'm going to let megumi punch you, and then i'm going to do it myself." 
"we're not supposed to encourage violence." 
you roll your eyes. "go get tsumiki. do not be late again. i'll see how he's feeling, but we're going to talk trash about you, just so you know." 
"see? this is why i love you." satoru grins, then pecks your cheek. "okay, got to go! good luck," he says and swings himself out the door. 
and honestly, how did you get stuck with him? 
*
you give him a couple of minutes before you knock on the door, assuming that any space he has to cool off is probably good. but you can only wait so long. 
there's a worry somewhere in your chest, the fear that you won't know how to mend the rift between the two boys. but the other part of you feels easy, simple. 
kind of how you assume satoru feels about most things. 
if you can't fix it, you think, he probably can. 
"hey," you whisper, peeking into his room. the lights are off. "can i come in?" 
megumi shrugs. he's sitting on the bed, staring at the floor, looking like a forlorn statue. 
so you go in anyway, stepping over the backpack he threw on the floor and the books cascading out of it to sit next to him on his bed. 
it's actually a little hard not to laugh because even though he's grumpy, megumi is so cute. his little scrunched-up eyebrows and his pout make you want to squeeze him forever. you want to coo over him, or say something inappropriate, but you refrain. because you are not satoru, and you will never be. 
"how was school?" you ask, after you've settled in on his dinosaur sheets, watching him pick at something on his pants. 
he shrugs again. 
"wow. glowing remarks." 
megumi doesn't even smirk a little. 
you tilt your head, trying to meet his eyes. "do you want to talk?" you ask softly, trying so hard not to prod. even though you will.  
"no." 
you smile, a little. "too bad," you tell him, rolling your eyes for show, "you didn't say hello or give me my hug when you came in. talking is your punishment." 
"sorry," he mumbles. 
"i'll let it slide this time--only this time--okay, kid?" you give him a hard look and he nods immediately. you smile at him again, leaning up. "what happened with satoru?"
"nothing." 
"unforunately for you, he's a gossip so..." 
he rolls his eyes. "he was just being annoying."
"naturally. did he make you mad?" 
megumi nods. 
"did you tell him that?" 
he shakes his head. 
"okay. what'd you say when he started annoying you?" 
"to stop." 
"and then he didn't, so..." you hint, nudging him.
"i told him to leave me alone." 
"what'd he say to that?" 
megumi sighs. "he just said that i'm adorable when i'm mad." 
because of course he would. satoru is probably the worst person in the world. the sole cultivator of everything terrible. 
and, for some reason, you're kinda obsessed with him. 
"yeah," you shake your head, grumbling internally. "i'd expect nothing less from him. i'm sorry he didn't listen, though." 
megumi finally looks at you. "you are?" 
you raise your brows. "well, yeah. if you want to be left alone, then he should leave you alone." 
megumi looks at you skeptically. "you're not going to tell me that i shouldn't have gotten mad at him?" 
"um," you frown. "no. you're entitled to your emotions, megs. you can feel whatever you want." 
he frowns, too, but doesn't say anything. he's stuck somewhere you'll probably never reach. 
but you try to meet his eyes anyway. "and satoru'll be getting a lecture from me, don't worry," megumi smiles a little at that, looking a little more like the boy you're used to. "but i just wanted to tell you that you can talk about it with me, if you want. nobody understands being angry with satoru like i do." 
he looks away again. his fists clench, briefly, and he makes a sound at the back of his throat. "i just--why doesn't he leave me alone? he always teases me, even when i'm trying to be serious, or when i tell him to stop." 
you nod in agreement, letting the words sit for a moment. and then you say, "i think that satoru thinks if he never takes anything seriously, then the negative emotions and all of the things he doesn't want to think about won't matter to him. or as much."
"but they do matter." 
"they do. and if he's irritating you, you should tell him that." 
"i try." 
your lip twitches. "satoru's not the easiest person to talk to. but he's a lot like you, you know? in that way." 
megumi frowns. "how?" 
"you don't really like to talk about these things do you?" you ask, seriously. 
megumi thinks for a moment, fingers messing with the bedsheets, and then shakes his head, slowly, like he doesn't want to admit it. 
"satoru doesn't like it either. and he feels things the same way you do--very deeply, and seriously. that's why he always messes around. and why he frustrates you." you stop, thinking about how to explain this to a kid. how to explain it to yourself. "well, you know how when there's only one melon soda left and you give it to tsumiki, or when you let her pick the movie?" 
megumi nods. 
"that's your way of putting her first. because you love her. but it's different then the way that she loves you, right?"
"yeah. she says it, a lot," he rolls his eyes, familiar with the antics of tsumiki.
you smile. "and she gives those hugs where she tries to crack your ribs," you emphasize it by squeezing his shoulder, making him laugh. 
you swallow, shrugging. "you both show your love differently. everyone does. but tsumiki isn't afraid to let anyone know that she loves them, and satoru is, i think. and you're like that." 
he looks down at his lap, contemplating this. satoru might think that you understand megumi better than he does, that the two of you are easy, but you feel like you're standing on uneven ground. 
everything is so clear in your head. but you can't clarify the interworkings of someone as complicated as satoru for megumi. you can barely clarify him for yourself. 
"i don't know if that's the right way to put it..." you sigh. "well, i like to talk things out. like right now. i want to talk about how i feel, and why. that's how i process everything. but satoru doesn't do that. usually, he'll refuse to." you nudge megumi. "and that's okay, sometimes. but i think he's taught you to do the same, on accident." 
"that's not bad, though," he mutters, frowning. 
"no, not all of the time. but it also means that his emotions come out in his actions. like teasing you, or when he tries to get all of us to sleep in his room." 
megumi rolls his eyes again and you laugh. 
"there's no bad way to show the people that you love that you love them, but when you don't talk about things, or you try not to show those emotions, they get stuck." you poke his chest. "and then they break out, like today, and it's too many feelings all at once." 
megumi nods. 
"so when he's annoying you, you have to tell him. or if you need a break from him, or me, or tsumiki, you should say that." 
it's advice for all of you. some secret that you don't want megumi to know about--the part of you that's lying to him. the unspoken things you don't say--emotions buried so deep beneath your surface that they'll never see the sun. 
you can see the thoughts as they pass over his face, still dark, still stormy, but lighter now. 
eventually, he nods, meeting your eyes. "okay."
you give him a half smirk, leaning down just a little. "but you can't be mean about it, alright? i know today was hard, and satoru was pushing you, but it's still not okay to snap at him." 
megumi curls in a little. "i'm sorry." 
"i'm not mad, buddy," you assure him, ruffling his hair. "and neither is satoru. we're just here to help you, you know? but you have to let us in so we can. you can depend on us, i promise. and you have to be nice, because i can't deal with another satoru." 
he laughs, just a little. you rest your head on his. "i'm here if you want to talk about it," you tell him, "today, or anything else that's bothering you." 
"i know." 
and you feel like he does, just a little bit. he's a very smart kid, and you know that when you leave he'll think about it some more--put it into words that work for him. 
honestly, most of the time his intelligence frightens you--like you'll never be able to slow him down, or make sure that you're on the same page. but at least there's some use for it. 
you sit up. "good. now i'm going to leave you alone, but when satoru gets home and he apologizes, try not to yell at him?" you plead, only partly joking. "he's sensitive." 
megumi scowls, but nods anyway. 
you stand up, nudging his leg with your foot and then you step back over the maze of his things, turning the doorknob. 
"y/n?" 
you turn back, brows raised. "yeah, bud?" 
"do you want to... play cards, or something?" 
and finally, you laugh. just a little. 
*
"how'd it go?" 
"megumi said that he didn't like my haircut, and that i needed to review my wardrobe situation." 
"and?" 
"he's okay." 
you sigh out in relief. "good," you say, looking back down at the paperwork you're supposed to be filling out. the teaching courses, and jujutsu regulations, course handbooks, and bills... 
satoru sits down next to you, looking over all of the papers with a frown. "this is disgusting," he says, nudging your hand away from the pen you're lingering on. 
"true."
"take a break," he hooks his leg around yours. "let's talk." 
you sigh again. "we really need to get this stuff done, satoru." 
he shrugs. "we'll do it tomorrow." 
"you said that yesterday, too." 
"and i was right..." 
but you relent, and you turn so that you're sitting facing him on the couch, your legs crossed in front of you. 
"hey," he whispers, softly, grinning. 
"hi." 
"how was your day?" 
"boring. all i did was clean the house and wait for you and the kids to get home." 
he leans in, eyes crinkled. "can you imagine what your life would be like without me?" 
"not even a little bit. you take up all of my time."
satoru smiles, adoringly. he leans his forehead against yours. 
you want to push him away, or roll your eyes, or ask him more about his talk with megumi, or if he checked on tsumiki, but you don't. 
you just let a small, tired smile rest upon your lips and close your eyes. 
satoru is close enough to smell. his warmth is almost mechanical, unmoving. and everything about him feels sort of unbelievable. he's so close. close enough to touch and taste, if you were that daring. 
but you're not. 
"you okay?" you whisper to him, feeling his breath against your cupid's bow. you refrain a shiver. 
"i'm good," he says, voice soft and low. "you okay?" 
"i'm good." 
satoru nods against you. there's a whole minute where the two of you sit just like that, no need for words or movements. 
it's nice like this, you think. with him and nothing else. you don't get a break very often nowadays--and you don't mind it, really--but sitting with him is enough to not care. who needs a break when you've got your best friend, curled against you like a vice you'll never ever touch?
and then satoru asks, "do you think i mess with megumi too much?" 
"yes," you say, immediately, opening your eyes to meet his glorious blue ones. satoru is pouting, so you continue. "but he loves you anyway." 
just like i do, you think, so brief there's no time to push it away in your mind. 
"yeah?" 
"god knows why," you say, rolling your eyes, laughing when he bends down to tickle your neck with his nose, sniffing against you like a dog. 
but you do know why. and the paperwork can wait until tomorrow. 
*
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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months
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Salome!
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"La Belle Dame sans Mercy" ("The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") - A ballad by John Keats
"The poem is about a fairy who condemns a knight to an unpleasant fate after she seduces him with her eyes and singing." please
This screams Knight!König x Fairy!Reader to me.
I just know König would gladly die by the hand of such an ethereal being.
"She looked at me as she did love, and made a sweet moan."
"And sure in language strange she said—'I love thee true.'"
That’s it. Thank you.
I swear this artwork kills me everytime I see it....
Ok this became the silliest fairytale ever 🩷✨️
CW: Historical AU blending with mythical/supernatural AU. König being a dreamy mess of a knight who doesn't fit in "normal" society. Reader is part of faefolk. Heavy Arthurian Romance vibes.
König returns to the castle one day. The son of a great liege lord, a warrior through and through, but some people say he should’ve been a poet: so dreamily he looks beyond the battlements at times, sighs after drinking too much wine, stares off into dark corners of the room while tending to his sword and armour as if he can see little pixies dancing there.
His siblings sometimes hit him on the back of his head, or wave a hand over his eyes when he’s about to slip into the fairy world, a forgotten plane that is not supposed to reach the castle. But the castle stones were taken from the moors and the woods, the old land not bending to the priest’s will no matter how many crosses they brought here. Fragile souls are wanton prey for the elves and the fairies who would take them to their land the moment they drop down their guard, and only prayer and fasting hold them at bay. In the fairylands, there is no toil or sorrow; the food is golden honey and wine, the dance and love everlasting, and the fae girls more beautiful than any human maid.
It sounded too good to be true, and it was: God had created men to work and women to give birth, and all the land was theirs to use and cultivate, it was not made to simply run and frolic upon. Some say that these were just old tales and that Christ would banish these creatures away, turn the land to yielding crops and tame firewood.
But some still believed.
When he was a child, the mighty son of the feared lord took porridge and almonds to the woods. “For the fairy people,” he said with bright, trusting eyes. Stole food from under the mistress’s nose, and no one ever dared to say anything about it.
But when this nonsense carried on to adulthood, people had to intervene. There was work to be done, war, harvest and building, and no matter how many coins this man paid to the visiting bards, it would never turn their stories true.
His arm was strong and his strike was true, but his head seemed to be filled with dandelion wine, even when he hadn’t been drinking. Sighed after this maiden or that, wished to travel to foreign lands, courted every nobleman’s daughter who visited the castle, but no one ever took him seriously.
This man had to watch how lady after lady chose some other valiant knight as their husband, some men whose heads were not filled with fairytales and dreams. They did flirt with him, for who could’ve resisted the temptation of making this giant a little sweaty under all that armor? Armor that demanded plate for two people, and a smith who had the talent to forge such a beastly thing.
Nevertheless, he was always left without a warm embrace, and so he was usually found outside, looking at the full moon or spending time in taverns, choosing the company of thieves and rascals over his serious kin.
And now he has returned from the woods, having been gone for months.
People thought he had finally left to fight for some other lord, posing as a simple footsoldier, a disguise that would relieve him of his tedious duties as a knight. Or to court some “lovely peasant girl” he always talked about – such talks were usually crushed by his father, demanding him to be sensible for once in his life.
But he doesn’t prattle about peasant girls now, nor does he ramble about screaming ships at the bottom of the sea. He doesn’t hold a speech about forgotten stone circles in the forest, the ones that already grow moss. No, he has finally lost it completely.
His eyes are wild, as is his hair; his armour is nowhere to be seen, and his sword is without its sheath. He doesn’t talk about what he saw in that forest to anyone, nor is he willing to tell where he has even been these past few moons.
He seems very shaken when he’s told they were worried he wouldn’t make it to the May Day feast, and asks for how long he was gone, drives a hand through dishevelled hair when he hears that he was away for three full months.
“Three months…” he mutters to himself, then leaves to his room, the huge sword dragging against the stone floor as he goes. He has always, always made sure it wouldn’t dull, but now he’s treating it like it’s become a part of him, confused and lost.
He doesn’t eat, hardly speaks after that.
The food tastes like ash, he says, and the ale tastes like bile. But the following evening, when his mother orders someone to pour her poor son some more wine, he looks up helplessly like a child.
“I have to go back,” he says.
A clamour arises, huffed exclaims of “What on earth is he on about” and “Sir, you only just got back!” His father rises from his chair and orders him to stop this nonsense at once. But this time, there is no embarrassed sweep of hand through hair, no red colour that rises on this peculiar knight’s cheeks. His lips only make a thin line before he rises as well and leaves the hall with a weight on his shoulders and dark determination in his stare.
At the stables, a stout Moorland pony and poor stable boy get to witness the drunken bawls of a forlorn knight. The wine sack almost slips from his hands to the dirt as he slumps against the timber of the stall, distorted face coming to rest against a wide, shaky palm.
Luckily, a friend of his knows where to look, and the stable boy sneaks into the shadows, slightly scared of the sorrow of such a big, intimidating man.
But even the companion who always listened to every enthusiastic story since they were kids and ran across the moors, throwing little rocks at his father’s soldiers and laughing when their helmets made a funny clinky sound, can not understand the drunken babble that comes out of König’s mouth this time.
He starts from the middle, which is highly unusual, and talks in strings of sentences that don’t make sense. “She was real, I just know it,” he repeats, over and over again in the middle of confessions about how beautiful she was, how her hair was like the softest spun yarn, her body incredible, naked and wild when she came to him. That her laugh was like the chime of little bells or the sound of the loveliest harp, a song on its own when she walked to him.
She was fascinated with his sword, especially the pommel and the handle interested her, and the curve in the middle of the blade she brushed with her fingers as if it was an entire vale.
He had never seen a woman touch his sword like that… They were never interested in such things, but she was, and she asked him so many questions.
Had he ever felled a tree?
Did he like squirrels?
Were his thighs as hairy as his chest?
She took him down the river, or he followed her; he can’t remember. Her step was so light it didn’t make a sound, and the moss seemed to turn brighter every time her little foot stepped on it. Her hands were tiny too when she wrapped them around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him until there was nothing left of him: no helmet, no sword, nothing but sun and her, her hands and her lips.
Her mouth was still on his when she whispered she didn’t like his armour because it was so hard and rigid and cold, oh, she wondered if there was a man inside there at all.
So of course he showed her.
She giggled at the sight of him, especially his thighs, knelt down on the moss to see how hairy they were.
And would you believe the way she touched him then? It makes him heady even now…
Yes, he took her. But not the way a man takes a woman. She came to straddle him and laughed again, and the things they did together… He can’t even speak about them, but he knows the sun always shined when they rolled on the grass. Her giggles and moans surrounded him, her soft little thighs were stronger than they looked, her breasts so round and soft, so perfect he swore he had gone to heaven.
He bathed in her, with her, all day long. And the nights… You wouldn’t believe the nights: there was song and dance and more giggling women, and also a man dressed all in leaves, so big and thick he first thought he was a tree. An old king, she said, nothing he should worry about. And the wine tasted like summer and honey and gold; it was red, perhaps, but also like sea amber and sun…
She fed him flowers and laughed, caressed his face and said he’s the biggest and hairiest human she had ever seen. She let him lick honey from her fingertips and caressed him with heather and ivy, opened her mouth before feeding him a soft, sweet piece of cake, showing him how he needed to open his mouth as well if he wanted it on his tongue.
She kissed the crumbs from his lips and trailed a finger down his chest, all the way down, until…
Oh, he can’t talk about it.
It was better than he ever even imagined: better than the stories they tell in the taverns. It was like his wedding night, over and over again, it was like he was Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere.
No, no, she was not an enchantress, although everything about her was enchanting... All the stories came alive with her, even the moon was bigger than anywhere he’d ever seen, the deers ran past them while they made love, and the birds sang even at night.
He told her he loved her, but she didn’t know what it meant. When he explained it to her, she looked at him gently, so gently…
He cried from joy then, but she never mocked him. She only said it’s a sign that he’s hers. That he will never forget her. She said he’ll always find her, even when he’s old: she will make him young again. He’s welcome here if he wants: she has so many places to show him.
He thanked all the saints for having found her, Saint George and Saint Mary first, but stopped when her little brows furrowed with sorrow. Her eyes, filled with starlight and love, turned so sad that his heart couldn’t bear it, not for one beat.
The sea is far wilder here: he should come and see the ocean as it was at the dawn of time. The ivy is so strong you can use it to climb the trees and see the whole world from atop the tree, the whole land, covered in forest, such as it was before humans came. There’s no smoke or fire or war: just green everywhere, wild rippling streams and honey bees and berries and fish for everyone who ever feels hungry... They can make love day and night, and she’ll teach him all the songs of old. Humans only remember bits and pieces, but she knows how things really happened, she can tell him everything about heroes, kings and queens.
She said she wanted to sleep, and so he took her from the feast and laid her on the grass… She might’ve sung to him, he can’t remember, but it was like an angel’s caress all over him, somber and sweet before the dreams took him, a dream within a dream.
He slept for ages, it seemed, saw so many dreams, each more beautiful than the last until he woke up and saw that the forest had turned grey.
There was no maiden in his lap, no dance and song in the distance, no scent of flowers and dreams and springs to be found. The sun was up in the sky, but it didn’t paint all the colours with gold or fill the streams with light. The forest was half dead to him, just old, thick trees around him, a green-grey forest floor and a shaggy squirrel who chirped and squeaked at him as if it was his fault that the fae folk were gone.
He searched for her, called for her, but she didn’t answer, and how could she have? He didn’t even know her name. He only knew how lovely she felt, how soft her hair was when it fell to cover him like a veil, how adorable her sighs and tiny little gasps were when he filled her, over and over again.
His armour was nowhere to be found, and his sword was somewhere downstream, half covered with leaves and dirt, rusty and beaten by the wind. It was early spring when he came here; the land was still barren and grey, but now, everything was green. Still, it was not the green he wanted. It was not the green that filled his vision entirely, bright, blooming green that pulsed with lush joy. It was just… earth and grass and dirt.
So you see, he has to go back. He has to find her, whatever it takes. She promised he could always come back… She promised…
He cries once more, head bowed and mighty shoulders trembling from the force of his sorrow, and it is no use to tell him that the fae folk are evil. That they’re from the Devil and only want to make good, decent men like them forget. Forget their duty, their laws, their Christ.
It’s no use to tell him that it is not natural, the place he has seen. No doubt he has been somewhere, but it cannot be anything good… No man can survive on flowers and spring water for three months; they cannot frolic with the faeries for days on end without losing their mind and soul.
And König is already lost; he was lost since he was a child, rambling about how he received flowers, sticks and stones as tokens of the faefolk’s gratitude because he brought them food.
He tries to tell the boy who never grew up, the mightiest man in this kingdom, the dreamiest knight there ever was, that he needs to return to the real world. No fae woman would have him as a husband, they are only after his soul. But surely some human lady would take him into her bed, think about it, for God’s sake, please... He has duties here, people who love him, his father would make him a lord if he only put himself together. What kind of knight would abandon his sword, helmet and armour for the sake of an elf who despises the saints...?
But in the morn, König is gone.
His rusty sword is on the floor, the wooden cross taken off the wall. There lies a honeycomb and a flower on his window, a blossom so sweet it cannot be plucked from any field around here. Too exotic and bright, especially when placed atop the rough, grey stones, it looks like it could never wither from how beautifully it blooms.
The peasants now tell a tale of a man that haunts the woods: a huge giant dressed all in green, donning a leaf cloak of some sort and a beard that grows ivy. But they say he is not evil: he only shows himself to hunters who are about to fall a deer, or children who remember the land with little gifts.
Old men say they saw a green man when they were kids and brought bread and milk to the faeries, they swear to this day they saw a man who greeted them with a smile. And when they looked again, there was nothing but a tree where this giant stook, a young oak, sighing with the wind...
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sky-is-the-limit · 7 months
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𝑪𝒐𝑫 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔:
𝚃𝙵𝟷𝟺𝟷, 𝙻𝚘𝚜 𝚅𝚊𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚜, 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜,
𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚒a.
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(Female Reader)
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𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆: 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚.
Light spanking while you're on top of him in cowgirl position, his hands would be all over your ass, guiding your hips, slapping your soft skin, promising red marks.
He'd do it in a disciplinary way as well but not forceful. Teasingly, whip your rear with the towel after a steamy shower or a wooden spatula that you have in the kitchen if you rile him up too much with "old man jokes."
He'd never admit, but the sight of his handprints and grips on your thighs and ass would make him daydream for the rest of the day, annoyed that you distract him so easily from his work (that would possibly lead to him doing it more, a never ending-cycle that you both enjoy.)
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𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 '𝑮𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕' 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚: 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎.
This man loves nothing more than the way you sound, the way you moan, your breathless whispers, sighing against his lips, the way his skin slaps onto yours, the sound of the wetness when he slips in and out of you.
Though he's not a vocal man in the slightest, he wants you to be. He wants to hear his name out of your lips, wants you to be loud, listen to you lose control, make your pleasure known as he reminds you who you belong to.
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𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 '𝑮𝒂𝒛' 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌: 𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒌.
You know what they say about the quiet ones. If anyone could hear the words coming out of his mouth while he's fucking you in front of a mirror, they'd never believe that it's him.
“So fucking desperate for my cock.” “Spread your legs and let me look at you.”
“You wanna get fucked, baby? Use your words.”
His voice alone could send you over the edge, this side of Kyle coming out only when he has you naked at his mercy, round after round.
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𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 '𝑺𝒐𝒂𝒑' 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉: 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆.
Both giving and recieving. Tell him how good he makes you feel, how perfect his mouth feels against your soaked cunt, how beautiful he looks between your thighs, caressing his hair as he sucks on your clit, desperate to please all your needs.
He'll return the favour, call you his pretty girl, let you know how good you take him, how fucking amazing you feel when he's buried deep inside you, asking you to look into his eyes when he's pounding into you, call you his good girl when you respond immediately.
"I'm proud of you, bonnie."
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𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒋𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐 𝑽𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒔: 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚.
There's nothing he anticipates more than returning home to his girl, only to find you dressed in beautiful silk or satin, preferably lingerie that he bought you, your skin soft with lotion, sheets fresh against his nakedness when he lays down so you can give him a massage, feeling your skin against his, your fingertips tracing every inch of him.
You know how hard he works, how exhausted he returns back to you every time. When you suggest to use his favourite tie to blindfold him, allow him to relax completely into the darkness while you take him into your mouth, one hand caressing his hip and the other covering what you can't fit, he could die a happy man.
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𝑹𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒇𝒐 '𝑹𝒖𝒅𝒚' 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒂: 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈.
He doesn't know what excites him the most. Finishing inside of you, feeling your warm walls fill up with him, leaking out of your folds, making a mess while he slips in and out, unable to retract his gaze away from his cum leaking out of you.
“Fuck, look at this mess, mama.”
Or have you beg for him to finish inside of you, get you fucking pregnant with the way he's holding onto the headboard, the way it hits the wall with so much force matching the way he's fucking into you, unable to control himself.
“Fuck a baby into me, Rudy.” Yeah, he's a goner.
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𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔: 𝑫𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.
Whether you work for him or not, this man will make sure you understand the weight of his title and authority. He loves it when you call him "sir," begging him to touch you, desperate for his attention.
He has the upper hand. He's in control, and he'd make sure that you know it. Reminding you that if you move from whatever position he has you in, you'd face the consequences. Whether it's him bending you over the nearest surface or denying you to orgasm until your mascara is running down your cheeks and your voice is hoarse from asking permission to cum.
“Only a slut like you could make me feel this good.”
“Touch yourself and don’t stop unless I tell you to, am I clear?”
“Only a dirty, nasty slut like you would come with a gun against her cunt.” (oh, this is a topic for another time.)
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𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒛𝒂: 𝑽𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒎.
She's a busy woman, giving commands to over a hundred men working for her, controlling an entire corporation all by herself, it can be exhausting. Until her pretty girl walks into her office, all needy and desperate for her touch, but she can't leave her tasks unfinished, and you know it.
And so she'd have you strip naked in front of her, slowly, giving her a front seat to her favourite show while she's leaning back against the chair, legs on the desk while she's talking to someone on the phone. Her eyes wouldn't leave your body for a second, afraid she might miss the way each piece of clothing falls on the ground and your skin unravels before her.
“You know what to do, cariña. Touch yourself for me.”
A masterpiece. Your body on the luxurious velvet sofa, legs spread open and your glistening slick dripping down your thighs while you rub your clit for her entertainment. You know she'll reward you generously later.
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teeny-tiny-revenge · 2 months
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It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)
After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.
It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.
Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)
DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.
OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:
Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!
Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!
Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!
Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.
Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.
Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!
... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.
So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!
I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)
I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.
Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):
It plays Gnossienne N°5!
More crappy pics of my other disc menus:
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Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)
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mina-saiyat · 1 month
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jeongyeon being passed around at a jyp investor meeting where they all love thicc girls so they rough fuck her juicy mommy body. she begs them not to cum inside because she's not on birth control, but it makes them fuck her even harder and make sure to cum directly into her womb to breed her and turn her into a real mommy. she's filled with so much cum from different men that she won't know who the father is. that's the real reason for her hiatus
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Jeongyeon has a plump figure and a rosy face, exuding the unique charm of a mature woman. Her curvaceous figure, plump breasts and round buttocks made investors excited.
The investors all looked wretched, staring at Jeongyeon's whole body with naked eyes. They exchanged lewd glances and spoke rudely of the sensual young woman's body.
"These breasts are so big! They're bigger than my wife!"
"Her butt is so raised, just look like a slut!"
"Her girlfriend also works in our company, right? It would be great to fuck her girlfriend!"
Jeongyeon blushed at the obscene words spoken by everyone. She desperately covered her chest and tightened her legs, but to no avail. She felt that her lower body was already wet. This feeling of being watched and lusted by so many men made her both scared and excited.
Finally, an investor couldn't hold it any longer and stepped forward to tear apart Jeongyeon's clothes, revealing her plump breasts. Jeongyeon exclaimed and tried to stop him but was suppressed.
The man kneaded her breasts and let out a satisfied sigh: "Damn, it feels so good! She is indeed a top-notch slut!" After saying that, he lowered his head and took the pink nipples into his mouth and sucked them.
Jeongyeon gasped repeatedly, pushing his shoulders with both hands but it had no effect. She knew that her reaction would only fuel the desires of these beasts, but she still couldn't help but twist her body to meet the other's licking.
"Oh… don't be like this… Nayeon is nearby…" Jeongyeonwas so embarrassed that she burst into tears.
Jeongyeon's words undoubtedly inspired everyone's desire to conquer. More investors gathered around, some began to caress her long legs, and some pulled open her skirt, revealing her private parts wrapped in underwear.
"Slut, your underwear is soaked. You obviously owe it to someone to fuck you!" A man smiled and tore off her underwear, and inserted his fingers into her vagina to stir.
"Oh…don't…it doesn't work there…" Jeongyeon whined, her lower body contracting under the stimulation of his rough fingers. She knew that no matter how much she resisted, it would be useless and she could only let these beasts humiliate her.
"Baby, how about we help you have a son?" The other man pulled down his pants, exposing his huge penis. He held his hard cock and rubbed it between her labia. The transparent liquid oozing from the glans was sticky.
"No…I'm not under birth control…Ugh…be gentle…" Jeongyeon felt the tip of the glans squeeze out of her vagina and slowly enter her body. The painful feeling of being filled with a foreign object made her scream.
"I just want you to get pregnant with our seed! Then your son will know whose bastard seed it is, haha!" The man showed no mercy and thrust it as deep as he could, and began to thrust wildly.
"Ugh…slow down…it's too big…" Jeongyeon raised her head, her hair was messy, and she looked at the ceiling with blurred eyes. The pleasure and pain in her lower body were intertwined, giving her a strange feeling that she had never experienced before.
"Slut, scream out! We like to hear your screams!" The other person also took off his pants and pressed his hot penis against her face.
Jeongyeon shook her head feebly, but the man grabbed her hair and forced her mouth to swallow. She felt that her mouth was so full that she almost suffocated. Tears kept flowing down and fell on the man's genitals.
"Ugh…slow…I'm going to be broken…please let me go…" Jeongyeon burst into tears and her consciousness began to blur. She felt like an old ship that had been wantonly destroyed in front of these beasts and was about to sink.
However, her plea for mercy did not elicit the slightest sympathy, but instead aroused a greater desire for violence. More men joined in, lighting fire everywhere on her body, as if they wanted to tear her apart completely.
"Uh… I can't do it anymore… You're going to kill me…" Jeongyeon felt a spasm in her lower body, and her whole body fell into a state of madness. Her consciousness was erratic, as if she was in the clouds or falling into hell.
"What a slutty mouth, even so skilled at oral sex!" The man praised with satisfaction, pushing his waist forward continuously. Jeongyeon was extremely uncomfortable, but she could only let the other party control her.
At the same time, the man who penetrated her also increased his speed, grinding against the sensitive inner walls with each stroke. Jeongyeon screamed uncontrollably, her body twisting with his movements.
"That's it, scream louder!" The man seemed to be very satisfied and pushed deeper. Jeongyeon felt as if she was about to be penetrated by him, and there was an indescribable numbness in her lower body.
Jeongyeon was filled with two cocks in her mouth and vagina. She almost suffocated and her vision went dark. Her breasts were being kneaded and pulled, making her nipples hard and painful. The impact beneath her body became more and more violent, each time reaching the deepest point, as if it was going to penetrate her.
"Uh…um…wu…" She was forced to make a sound of unknown meaning, and her nose was filled with the fishy smell of men. Her vagina leaked a large amount of love juice with each thrust, flowing down her inner thighs and pooling on the ground.
"It's such a wonderful hole, so wet and hot, it almost melts me inside!" The man praised as he fucked her vigorously.
"I can't do it anymore… I'm going… ahh!" Finally, after a deep thrust, Jeongyeon reached her climax, and hot water spurted out and poured onto the man's genitals.
The man groaned, pressed against her cervix and ejaculated. The hot essence was injected into her body one after another, making her fall into a trance.
Finally, after a fierce thrust, the men fucking Jeongyeon's mouth reached climax at the same time. The hot essence spurted out and penetrated deep into her womb. At the same time, another man also smeared white turbidity all over her cheeks and hair.
"It feels so good… Fuck me… I will serve you well…" After the climax, Jeongyeon's eyes lost the clarity of the past, leaving only the haze of lust. She took the initiative to open her legs and let the several penises in front of her take turns to enter her body.
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sukunas-wife · 3 months
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I'm in desperate need of sukuna just catering to his pregnant wife. Like he's being too careful, caring and overall really really cautious around her. I just need some sweet stuff between the two. Idk how it'll happen but it must, and I think you'll be the perfect person for it♡♡♡ i love your work sm istg i could just smoosh u into a big hug, reading your posts just makes me all giddy and melt. thank you in advance!!!
Stop Ilysm 🥺🤍 imma do my best 🥹
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In no way was Ryomen Sukuna a domestic man, much less a man who would show mercy or an ounce of emotion. Yet here he stood, both sets of arms crossed over his chest hard stare following your waddle around the garden, his face was void of emotions but internal something was ignited. Subconsciously, his body led him to find you almost always when he would wander about aimlessly in thought. Here he was, standing on the engawa. His eyes ran over your body, the small swell in your tummy was a pain in his ass but there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to ensure your safety and his child’s. He was lucky you hadn’t noticed him or you’d probably demand something from him and there he would have to go to please you.
The cold rush of air on his skin didn't bother him, but he saw how you shivered, tucking your hands into the sleeves of your robes resting them on your swollen belly. You were persistent and stubborn it didn't surprise when the second rush of wind came and you side eyed the empty air as if threatening a being. You sighed continuing your walk in the garden, fingers grazing the flowers of the garden. The garden you had begged him to make because it had been your dream to have a lavish royal garden of your own. He remembers the first time he allowed you out of his sight, he found you sitting on a stone bench under the shade of a blooming sakura tree, you must’ve felt like one of those silly little princesses with how you slowly lifted your hand to catch falling blooms.
You felt the shift in the air but weren’t bothered to turn around and greet him, you were busy on your little adventure. You were looking for the perfect place, you kept walking until you came to a decent open space, in the centre was a ring of bushes. Staring at the space you started to space out thinking only pulled back to reality by your husband when he draped his Haori over your shoulders. He stood behind you, a pair of arms around you carefully tying it closed. His scent and warmth lingered over your skin when he stepped away, you looked back over your shoulder and up at him. He was looking past you at the bushes you were staring at, one of his left hands rested on your left shoulder. He brought a right hand up to his face, squeezing his cheek bones and running his hand down his face like he was thinking, “what have you decided?” You hummed, “A plum tree right there, as our child grows so will the tree, when he’s old enough to eat fruit it’ll start to bloom.” Sukuna didn’t understand the sentiment behind having your child grow up with his or her own tree. In the end one of them would die and they would have to part ways. “Uraume” “Yes Lord Sukuna.” It was an unspoken command. It was one of many he’d be giving for the next few months.
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“…su?” Your voice was lost in the dark before you tried to sit up whispering, “..sukuna.. kuna… suuuu.” You laid a hand on your husband's chest rubbing circles, he took a slow deep breath opening his eyes to look at you. “Yes y/n?” Your hand trailed to his lower shoulder trailing down his arm and taking his hand holding it in your lap between both of your smaller hands in comparison. “I..I’m hungry..” he was looking at you with soft lidded eyes. His lower set of eyes opened when he sat up the arm he had wrapped around you in his sleep and moved to rub your side, he did his best to whisper “What do you need?” He never asked what do you want like it was a bothersome request, but rather what do you need like it was something necessary for you to keep living. “I want the melon from that fruit stand in the village. The one they had at the top in a small crate…” his mouth opened slightly like he was going to say something. Because here’s the thing, he bought that melon when he saw your eyes linger on it a little too long. But at the moment Uraume wasn’t there and he didn’t wanna carry around a small crate while he had things to do so he told the Vendor he would be back for it, and if he tried to sell it or let anything happen to it, it would be his life for that melon. He closed his mouth, “I…” he moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, “I’ll be right back.” You sat there rubbing your belly when he left, it didn’t feel like long considering the King of Curses was inhumanely fast. What took him longer was rummaging through the fruit vendor's stand looking for that cursed crate and melon. Finally he found it tucked away with a note in beg red characters, “LORD SUKUNA DO NOT DAMAGE DO NOT SELL AT ANY EXPENSE THE EMPEROR'S PREGNANT WIFE CAN STARVE IF IT SPARES MY LIFE.” He laughed to himself, a smug smile on his face, “These fools do have brains, how refreshing.”
He made it home and had your ladies in waiting bring you to the table, there he cracked open the crate showing you the perfect honeydew melon that had a thin layer of condensation making it look like the night dew had blessed it. Your tummy growled and your eyes shined bright for everyone to see. It was funny to see the melon on a red cushion in the crate before Sukuna carefully pulled it out and placed it on a wooden slab asking how you wanted it. You told him to cut it into slices, you watched him turn down the knife a lady in waiting offered him only to use to dismantle. It was faster, cleaner and efficient, he chose the best piece shaking off the seeds and handing it to you. You bought into it and it was the best thing in the world, until you finished your third piece and decided you didn’t want it anymore you were full and it started to taste funny. Your ladies in waiting giggled and Sukuna sighed when they started to clean it up, they decided to save the rest for you if you started craving it for at least the next two days.
——————
It wasn't long after that night, you found yourself awake at another ungodly hour of the night. You felt queasy and quickly jumped out of bed, rushing to the large washroom Sukuna loved to bathe in. You grabbed one of the brand new chamber pots the ladies in waiting had bought at Sukuna’s command for when you'd get sick in the morning. You thought you were alone but there was your husband, one arm rubbing your back, the other stilling your chalky hands, the second pair braiding your hair back and out of the way. Following you immediately he snapped at one of the servants to bring water and something to settle your stomach if it was needed. For now he provided the best comfort he could. His warm hands on your cold back and shaky hands might not have stopped your nausea but it was comforting to know he was there with you even if he could’ve just rolled over and slept. You would’ve kissed him or at least his cheek if you didn’t feel so dirty and your tummy didn’t ache and feel empty in a weird way.
——————
Here stood the King of Curses, it was past midday. He was lucky your cravings were during daylight this time but what he didn't understand was why you wanted to top your dango with crumbled salted egg yolk and mochi with dried squid topping. It made him sick and he was more than willing to eat raw human flesh. He sat there making sure the waiter never let your cup empty or your plates void of food but he stopped when you tried to top fried squid with a chocolate and red bean paste.
“Enough y/n, you will make yourself nauseous before the morning nausea starts tomorrow.” His voice and look were stern and authoritative which caused you to pout, “…fine.”
Of course that didn’t stop you from packing your left over into a little wooden bento box to take home.
So when you were hungry after being carried over half of the trip home you decided to eat that sinful concoction you called a meal. Just to find your bento had been tampered with and only had red bean paste buns and chocolate mochi. Your puffed out cheeks match your belly perfectly when you went around looking for Sukuna. Only to barge in on him having a conversation with Kenjaku. “Where’s my squid!” Kenjaku was surprised someone had the gall to raise their voice and be so demanding with the king of curses, “Not now Y/n” Sukuna tried to give you a look to tell you now isn’t an appropriate time, that didn’t stop you from getting closer seeing Kanjaku’s look of surprise when he saw your stomach swollen and prominent. The King of Curses’s wife was indeed pregnant meaning it was entirely possible for a curse to impregnate a human… but could a human.. “I told YOU I wanted that squid!” Your teary eyes had Sukuna’s eye twitching his mind was Screaming ‘dammit woman out of all the times you could cry and make a scene and walk out like THAT it had to be in front of this deranged man-?” He cleared his throat “URAUME- Yes Lord Sukuna.”
Uraume was quick to fry up squid for you, fresh, hot and crispy. It was perfect. His jaw dropped when he saw how you squeezed a drop of red bean paste and chocolate mochi filling on the squid just to take a bite. He also didn’t hesitate in running at you with one of the brand new chamber pots when all of your lunch came back up with that cursed squid. Your husband walked in and sighed, he looked at you as you wiped your mouth, “What did I tell you.” You avoided eye contact, “To not..” he placed a hand on your back rubbing up and down your spine, Uraume was quick to bring water.
————-
Finally, here was Sukuna kneeling in front of you between your legs. You were close to birthing so this had become a very common position for you. Your robes were open and he was listening to your stomach. He could hear very clearly and distinct your heart beat from your child’s. That little heart beat was strong and present no doubt his child. You always ran your hand over his hair, your nails scratching his scalp and he’d humm before finally pulling back. Spreading oil over his hands. All those Japanese Camellia seeds he forced servants to gather and extract oil from because you’d become self conscious of your body and the marks in your skin where your skin was stretching. He’d kneel there between your legs, warm hands rubbing your belly, sides, breasts and thighs down with the oil that everyone had sworn would help you prevent and recover from stretch marks. As much as he’d like to have advanced on you in these situations, he would've been doing this for your last trimester daily. There was no doubt in his mind he would’ve induced early labour, so there he sat pent up but tending to your silly little self conscious needs. Honestly, how could you think yourself ugly when he thought you looked perfectly swollen with his child. If he chose you, why would you belittle yourself? He doesn’t choose and take things that don’t meet his ridiculously high standards. So he doesn’t understand why all of a sudden the change in your mindset. But he’s here with you muttering comforting words against your stomach and thighs if it help you truly understand how he feels about you.
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Squishy: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks
@cyder-puff @bofadeezs
Perm: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira
Broken🥺: @cyder-puff @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378
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quite-right-too · 5 months
Text
Animal I Have Become
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Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: The Doctor doesn't like seeing people harm what's his. (18+ only)
The Oncoming Storm.
The Time Lord Victorious.
The Destroyer of Worlds.
The Doctor had many names in many different languages that spread across the stars. Tales of the last of the Time Lords echoed through the galaxy — the man who had destroyed two entire races, including his own people, and stopped being merciful many years ago.
Nobody quite knew how old the Doctor was, or how far back the legends had been traced, but one thing was certain.
Everywhere you went, people were afraid of the Doctor.
The Doctor you knew was gentle and kind. He made you breakfast in the mornings and told you how much he loved you. His eyes were so full of adoration and joy when he was around you.
However, that didn’t mean he was always like that.
All you had done was stop for repairs. You had a task to complete; find the market stall and acquire a list of parts. The Doctor had already written a list and drew some pictures next to each part to make it easier for you to find.
The city you were in was disorienting. It had already gotten dark, making the directions you were given nearly useless. One wrong turn and you found yourself in an alley. As you went to turn around, a man approached you.
His skin was a dark, rich shade of blue. He looked human aside from that. And the small horns that stuck out of his forehead. ‘Like a devil,’ you thought.
“So,” the dark humanoid man standing in front you took a step forward, prompting you to take a step back. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” The street lamp above you flickered unnervingly as you inched further and further away. Each step forward was met with a step back until you were cloaked in darkness, just outside of the small illuminated circle you were relying on for just a modicum of safety.
You felt your back hit the wall as you took another step backwards — it was a dead end.
You were trapped.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
Your heart began to race as a silver glint in the man’s hand caught your eye. The low light reflected off the knife that he held tightly.
Uncertainty makes you afraid. Fear makes you reckless. Just be confident in everything you do and above all else, just remember…
The Doctor’s words echoed through your head as you tightened your fists, preparing for whatever was going to come next. If you were going to die, you would not make it easy. You braced for the inevitable as your attacker surged forward.
I will always be there to save you.
The blue-skinned man was pulled backwards into the light and tossed to the ground. A sickening crack echoed through the dark alley followed by a groan and a cough.
Towering above him was the Doctor. Tall and powerful, long coat billowing around him from the speed he had run over. This was not the man you woke up next to that morning or made love to the night before.
This was the Oncoming Storm.
And he was pissed.
Even in the faint light, you could see that his eyes were impossibly dark. He stared down at the man on the ground with a sneer, his converse-clad foot pressing down on his throat. Below him, the stranger clawed at the Doctor’s leg.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” the Doctor murmured coldly. “Why shouldn’t I spill your blood all over the pavement like the filth you are?”
Fear flashed in the alien’s eyes. “Please, I’m sorry,” he choked out breathlessly. “I didn’t know you- I would never have-” He was cut off as the Doctor put pressure on his throat, kneeling down to pick up the dropped knife.
The Time Lord twirled the blade in his hand. “Oh,” he cooed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have.” Without warning, the Doctor quietly and subtly drove the knife into the man’s chest. “And you never will again.”
The thrashing subsided and the Doctor stood up, leaving the knife in the man's chest as thick red liquid began to form a pool underneath him. Wiping his hand haphazardly on his pant leg, he stared down at the body below him.
“Don’t touch what’s mine.”
Before you could even get a word out over what you had just witnessed, the Doctor had you pinned against the wall with a bruising kiss. “You heard me,” he growled. “You’re mine. All mine.” His hands gripped your hips with such force that you couldn’t move, even if you tried.
You gasped as he moved his mouth down your neck. “Fuck, Doctor!” That spurred him on further as he rutted against you, his hardening cock pressing against your lower abdomen.
Nimble fingers undid the button on your jeans, ripping them down your legs with your underwear. “You’re all fucking mine,” he growled as he unbuttoned his own trousers and shoved them down to his thighs, pants following. 
You were desperate for more. Hard and fast and brutal.
The look in the Doctor’s eyes indicated that he knew exactly what you wanted.
Wordlessly, he helped lift you so could wrap your legs around his hips, cock resting at your entrance. “Oooh, so wet for me already?” he breathed, thrusting himself against your slit. “You got absolutely soaked watching me make sure nobody ever touches what’s mine.” His long coat settled around the two of you, offering more privacy in the darkness.
The head of his cock slipped inside you, resting just for a second, before he slammed himself into you to the hilt. “Oh, gods,” he groaned, beginning a punishing rhythm. “You feel so fucking good.” His mouth began to wander down your neck, sucking deep purple bruises into your skin.
As he pushed you harder into the wall, one of his hands wandered up to the back of your head, keeping you from hitting the wall as he fucked you mercilessly.
Even in the situation you were in now, you found it extremely endearing.
“Doctor, please,” you choked out, hands grasping at his back. “I need you, all of you.” You felt him grin against your throat at your words.
“Damn right you do. You’re mine. Only mine. Nobody else gets to touch you.” He enunciated with a particularly hard thrust, “Look at you. Fuck, nobody even gets to think about you.” He let out a filthy moan as your fingers tangled in his hair. “I’ll kill the next bastard that thinks they can take you from me.”
Tightening around his cock, your impending orgasm was making itself known. The Doctor knew it too, keeping his thrusts hard and fast.
“You’re going to come, aren’t you, love? When you do, you’re going to scream for me. Scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to. Be good and come for me. Now.”
You felt the coil snap as your orgasm crashed over you. You followed his instructions, screaming his name. Calling out for the universe to hear. Making sure everyone knew what you were.
Property of the Doctor.
A few more thrusts and the Doctor followed with a shout, burying his face into your neck. He marked you inside and out, filling you just as you liked. Spurting his come into you and letting it trail down your arse. Leaving you absolutely fucked filthily and ruined for anyone who even thought of trying their luck with you.
“Thank you,” you sighed happily as he helped ease you down off of him. It didn’t take long for him to clean you both up and drag you off to the TARDIS.
He made sure you knew you were his at least five more times that night.
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whimsyfinny · 2 months
Text
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean
Chapter Word Count: 4211
—-MDNI—-
A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.
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Please read the below first:
Prologue Chapter 1
Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Chapter 6 Chapter 7
I’m Not Your F*cking Maid
Chapter 8 - Part 1
Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.
Dean.
My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.
I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.
“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.
“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.
“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”
I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.
“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.
“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.
“Or is this a pizza man situation?”
“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.
“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”
“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.
“What?”
“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.
“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”
“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.
“Yeah, she did.”
“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”
My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.
“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.
“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.
“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.
“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.
“I smell no pie here.”
“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.
“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”
He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.
“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”
“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”
“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”
“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.
“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”
He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.
“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.
“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”
*
Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.
“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.
I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.
“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.
*
A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.
“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.
“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.
“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.
“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.
“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.
“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”
“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.
“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.
“Sure I’m in.”
“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.
“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”
I scoffed.
“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”
“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”
I turned back to Charlie.
“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.
“Absolutely!”
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Up Next:
Chapter 8 part 2
189 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 1 year
Text
𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — yakuza!bakugou + katsuki bakugou.
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — angst, fluff, sfw. bakugou leaves the yakuza for you and it hurts for him to realise how much he loves you. gn!reader.
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katsuki bakugou never grovels. he never cries.
he can’t remember the last time he felt tears in his eyes. it must’ve been back when he was a kid, when his parents kicked him out and put him on the street— when the adults in his life failed him time and time again or when he’d gone so long without food he could barely lift a finger let alone keep his eyes open.
“i need an out, boss.” bakugou fights back a sob, head bowed so low that his chest feels tight and blood rushes to the top of his skull. his blood red eyes sting like they’ve been doused with acid rain, his lips quiver faster than he can keep up with— katsuki can’t remember the last time he cried and begged for mercy like this. “can’t go on like this.”
he feels pathetic, more than he ever has in his entire life. much worse than when his boss had taken him into the family, beaten some sense into him and taken a chance on a ruthless kid that ruled the streets with nothing but murder on his mind.
“and why’s that, first lieutenant?” jeanist, the head of the family and the closest thing the blonde has to an old man, asks— seated across from him on the tatami flooring, swaddled in his robes.
katsuki hates this feeling of pain that lodges itself in his chest and blossoms like the sakura trees representing his yakuza family crest. the pain of having to choose what he knows and loves and the love that the future holds for him. he’s not felt pain like this in a long time— emotional, mental pain. physically…he’s been through a lot worse, taken had metal pipes to the head and ribs, stab wounds and bullet wounds galore too. heck, even the yakuza tattoos bound to his wrists ( that seem more like shackles more and more each day ) hurt a fuck tonne.
but nothing is more agonising than seeing the emotional pain katsuki’s inflicted on you.
his knuckles turn white as he grips the fabric covering his knees— grinding his teeth, holding his breath, willing himself not to fucking cry. “i finally got somethin’— someone— damn worth livin’ for,” katsuki spits out, shifting the words around underneath his tongue. bitter and thick as if he’s swallowed a cap full of bleach. “they need me. beg me to come home in one piece. cry when ‘m cut up and bruised, harder when my knuckles bleed.”
“you’re in love,” the old man whispers from in front of him, wistful and wise. katsuki doesn’t speak for a while, he doesn’t have the strength to deny it.
because it’s true, he loves you more than he loves the thrill— the rush of being alive, being a part of this family where no tomorrow is guaranteed. he loves you more and hates the part of him that came home to you beaten and bruised, a bloody pulp so selfishly asking for your help because your hands were soft and you spoke to him softer. katsuki hadn’t seen the tears in your eyes back then, he hadn’t known how much he was hurting you. but when you ask him to make a choice between his family, the yakuza and yourself…
well, the answer is simple. the answer is always you.
“i’m in love,” katsuki repeats, admitting the truth. to his boss and to himself. he’s always known that he loved you, as clear as day, as true as fact— you make cherry blossoms bloom in his chest when his heart stops just from seeing you. you make his world come to a stop just by looking at him— is if you’ve stopped it’s rotation just so he could spend a little extra time with you. katsuki would die for you, but you’d want him to live for you instead.
and he wants to live for you too, wants to live to see you smile.
“i need an out, boss, please just give me a way out,” bakugou sucks back a sob, breathing uneven and shaky. “i need ya to let me go so i can protect ‘em better, be there for them. put a ring on their finger and keep them safe.”
best jeanist let’s a hand fall to straw blonde locks, patting the lieutenant on the head affectionately. “you’ve done a lot for this family, katsuki. i can’t ask you to stay when all you’ve done is put your life on the line for us.” he says, fond of the boy he raised and the man that he’s become. “be free, look after them. they’re your family now.”
katsuki lets out a relieved, strangled breath of thanks and best jeanist hums.
katsuki bakugou never grovels, he never cries but tonight he does. because when it comes to you his emotions are uncontrollable, strewn all about the place.
even the strongest, most dangerous men fall— and it just so happens that katsuki bakugou, a member of the yakuza, had fallen for you.
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