#just need to grind through the next two assignments :/

[divinekangaroo]

Really burned out trying to do more than one unit a year, so it seems.

[kateschi]

ᯓ★୭˚. RIVALS OR MORE?

જ⁀➴ “what are we?” event masterlist

synopsis: a question lingers between you and bakugou, sharp and biting, much like the competition that keeps pulling you back into each other's orbits.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the rivalry between you and bakugou katsuki was the kind of tale that pro-hero rookies whispered about, an unrelenting contest that started years ago at u.a. high.

from the moment the two of you stepped onto campus, it was as though the universe had aligned you as polar opposites.

bakugou’s explosive temper and fiery quirk were impossible to ignore, while your sharp tongue and precise control made it clear you wouldn’t be overshadowed by anyone—especially not him.

it began in your first year, during basic hero training, when aizawa-sensei had paired the two of you for a sparring match.

bakugou’s smug grin was infuriating as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

“don’t cry when i wipe the floor with you,” he sneered, crimson eyes blazing with confidence.

“save the big talk for someone you can actually beat,” you shot back, stepping onto the mat with your head held high.

the match was chaotic. bakugou’s explosions came fast and furious, his relentless offense forcing you to dodge and counter at a breakneck pace.

but you refused to give ground. the air smelled of smoke and scorched fabric by the time aizawa called it a draw, both of you battered and breathless.

bakugou wiped a streak of soot from his face, glaring at you. “next time, I’ll crush you.”

“not if I crush you first,” you retorted, wincing as recovery girl dabbed ointment on a nasty burn.

from that day on, the rivalry became a constant. every training session was a chance to prove who was better.

even the smallest victories turned into battlegrounds.

group projects were a nightmare for anyone unfortunate enough to share the assignment with the two of you; more than one teammate had begged for reassignment just to escape the tension.

things reached a boiling point during the training camp in your second year. paired together for a survival exercise, the friction was immediate.

bakugou stomped through the forest with his usual impatience, barking orders as if he expected you to follow blindly.

“stop lagging behind!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder to where you were scanning the dense undergrowth.

“I’m not lagging,” you replied coolly, stepping over a fallen log with deliberate ease. “I’m thinking. you should try it sometime.”

“don’t start with me,” he growled.

despite the bickering, the two of you worked with a kind of unspoken rhythm, covering each other’s blind spots without even needing to communicate.

you hated to admit it, but bakugou’s sheer power was impressive, and his instincts in a fight were razor-sharp.

it was during that exercise that the dynamic shifted, if only slightly.

when you stumbled into a hidden trap, a quick snare wrapping around your ankle, bakugou had reacted instantly. his explosions shredded the ropes in a matter of seconds, his glare more intense than usual.

“can’t believe you let yourself get caught like that,” he muttered.

you rolled your eyes, brushing off dirt as you got back to your feet. “thanks for the save.”

“whatever,” he huffed, looking away, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smirk.

those moments were rare, fleeting, but they stuck with you. even as adults, long after u.a. had become a memory, the rivalry burned just as brightly.

every headline that mentioned bakugou’s latest exploits made your blood boil. every time your name appeared in the rankings above his, you could practically hear him grinding his teeth.

it was a constant, infuriating reminder that he was always just there, always pushing you to be better—even when you hated him for it.

for years, you’d managed to keep your distance, tackling different missions. it was better that way. no distractions, no arguments.

but the pro-hero commission had other plans.

their reasoning was infuriatingly logical: two top-ranking heroes with a proven track record of results, a shared history of success despite—or perhaps because of—your rivalry.

and so, without consultation or warning, your paths were forcibly crossed again.

the moment you’d seen bakugou striding into the meeting room, your stomach had twisted in a knot of irritation and reluctant anticipation.

the years apart had done little to dull the intensity of his presence, nor had they cooled the fire of your rivalry.

bakugou walks to the far end of the table and plops down, his arms crossed over his chest, his usual scowl firmly in place.

his crimson eyes flicker with barely restrained irritation, and the rhythmic tap of his boot against the floor echoes in the silence, each strike a silent drumbeat to his rising impatience.

you sit at the opposite end, your posture mirroring his, arms folded tightly across your chest. your jaw locks, muscles taut as you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the umpteenth time.

“why the hell do I have to work with you?” his voice cuts through the silence, sharp and jagged, carrying with it a heat that isn’t entirely metaphorical.

his glare burns into you, daring you to fight back. so you lean forward, meeting his fire with your own.

“you think I’m thrilled about this, bakugou?” you snap. “this mission is too important to let your ego screw it up.”

his foot stills mid-tap, and for a moment, the room feels unnervingly quiet. then, he scoffs, his lips curling into a sneer as he leans forward, his tone dropping to a dangerous growl.

“my ego?” he bites out, the heat in his voice rising. “you’re the one who’s always trying to prove you’re better than me!”

you can’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. there’s a certain satisfaction in lighting his fuse.

“that’s because I am better than you,” you shoot back, your tone teetering on smugness.

his jaw clenches, veins visibly straining against his neck as his temper flares. his hands twitch as though he’s moments away from letting loose a barrage of explosions just to make his point.

before he can retort, a sharp clearing of a throat slices through the air like a knife.

the tension snaps, both of you glancing toward the commission’s representative.

“enough,” she says, her voice steely and cutting. her gray eyes are cold as they flicker between you and bakugou, clearly unimpressed by your outbursts.

“you two are professionals. act like it. this mission requires complete cooperation, and I don’t care how much you dislike each other.”

the word cooperation feels like a slap in the face. you straighten in your chair, jaw tightening as you cast a sidelong glance at bakugou.

he glares at the holographic display now—typical.

the display flickers to life, illuminating the room with a sharp blue glow as the mission briefing begins. details of a criminal syndicate tied to a dangerous quirk-enhancing drug fill the room.

you nod along, taking in the information, though you’re acutely aware of bakugou’s every shift, every exhaled breath.

as the meeting draws to a close, the representative’s tone grows pointed.

“this mission is high-stakes. your ability to work together effectively will determine its success—or failure.”

bakugou stands abruptly, the screech of his chair against the polished floor startlingly loud. “fine,” he mutters, his voice low and clipped as he stalks toward the door.

you sigh, rising to follow. “try not to blow everything up before we get the intel, okay?”

he shoots a glare over his shoulder, but there’s something almost amused in the way his lips twitch, like he wants to snap back but can’t quite muster the effort. “just stay out of my way, h/n.”

the door shuts behind him with a heavy click, and you let out a long breath.

the mission hasn’t even started yet, and already you feel the weight of it—not just the stakes but the inevitability of clashing with bakugou.

the city below buzzes with its usual hum of activity: flashing neon signs, the occasional honk of a car, and distant murmurs of a world that never quite sleeps.

the syndicate’s hideout looms in the distance, nestled within a secluded section of the city that seems to thrive on the shadows.

the building is plain, but you know better than to judge based on appearances.

you glance at bakugou, who is already adjusting his gauntlets. the metallic clicking of his gear fills the silence between you, his movements sharp and methodical.

“I’ll take the front. you sneak in through the back,” bakugou says, his voice laced with the kind of confidence only someone like him possesses.

he looks at you, his crimson eyes sharp and unyielding. “stay out of my way.”

you raise an eyebrow at his commanding tone.

there’s something about it—something that always gets under your skin. but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of showing it.

“typical bakugou,” you say with a smirk, shaking your head in exaggerated disbelief. “always going for the flashy entrance. no wonder they call you ‘dynamight.’”

bakugou’s lips twitch into a smirk of his own.

“yeah? and what do they call you? ‘miss perfect’?” his voice drips with the challenge, and you feel the simmering heat of competition between you two.

you raise your chin, your confidence just as unwavering as his.

“‘h/n,’ actually,” you correct, your voice dripping with mock sweetness that masks the genuine pride you feel for the name.

“because I get the job done without leaving a mess behind.”

his lip curls into a scowl, and he mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re pretty sure it’s some variation of “show-off.”

you chuckle as you move into position. his temper is always so easy to provoke, yet it never fails to amuse you.

crouching low, you disappear into the shadows, the familiar rhythm of working alongside bakugou settling in like a second skin.

despite your constant bickering, you have to admit there’s a certain harmony in how you two work together.

as you make your way to the back entrance of the hideout, you hear the distant thrum of bakugou’s footsteps as he moves toward the front.

you know he'll create a commotion, likely to draw attention and give you the perfect opportunity to slip in unnoticed. it’s his style—loud, chaotic, and effective.

you pause for a moment, assessing the situation. the back door is guarded, as you expect, but not too heavily. you’ll have to move quickly, but this is your element.

the guards are predictable, and you can use that to your advantage. with a quiet breath, you step forward, easily dispatching the first guard with a well-placed kick that sends him tumbling silently into a dark corner.

everything is going according to plan, and for a moment, you feel the familiar rush of adrenaline that comes with the territory. you aren’t just good at this—you’re damn good at it.

but as you near the main floor, the sound of shouting catches your attention, followed by the unmistakable crackle of bakugou’s explosions.

your heart skips a beat. it’s too early for things to go sideways—he isn’t supposed to be discovered yet. but, knowing bakugou, you don’t doubt he’s already drawn half of the syndicate’s attention.

the man never does know how to be discreet.

you curse under your breath but push forward, pressing yourself against the cold concrete wall as you move deeper into the compound.

every instinct you have screams at you to hurry, but you can’t afford to be sloppy—not now.

as you round a corner, a sharp crack of sound pierces the air—one you immediately recognize as a gunshot.

before you can react, something slams into your side, sending you sprawling across the floor. pain shoots through your ribs, and the world spins in a blur as you fight to stay conscious.

you stagger to your feet, heart racing.

your vision is blurry from the shock of the blow, but you manage to focus. the guards have noticed you—no surprise there—but now you’re outnumbered.

as you prepare to defend yourself, the familiar sound of bakugou’s explosions rings out, closer than before. your mind screams at you to hold on, but the pain is beginning to cloud your thoughts.

the world seems to slow as you brace yourself against the oncoming guards.

blood pounds in your ears, your vision narrows, and every muscle in your body screams for you to move—but you’re frozen.

you can feel the gunshot wound throbbing, hot and raw, in your side. your breaths come in sharp, jagged gasps as you prepare for the worst.

and then, everything explodes.

it’s as if the entire world has been set on fire.

a massive blast of force erupts from the far side of the room, so powerful it shakes the walls and sends debris scattering.

you instinctively throw yourself to the ground to shield yourself from the shockwave, your hands scraping against the cold floor.

when the smoke and dust begin to settle, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.

“hey! move, dammit!”

bakugou appears in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the fiery remnants of his explosion. his eyes lock onto you with a terrifying intensity.

you barely have time to process the sight of him before he charges toward you, his powerful form cutting through the remaining guards with ease.

with one swift motion, he sends a group of them flying, his explosions igniting the air with a deafening roar.

the remaining guards scatter, too intimidated by bakugou’s wrath to continue their assault.

“y/n, get up!” he barks, his voice sharp as a whip.

his eyes are on you now, and the anger in them isn’t the same as usual—it’s raw, a mix of frustration, fear, and something else you can’t quite place.

you push yourself to your feet, stumbling slightly, the pain in your side making every movement feel like you’re dragging a weight behind you.

“don’t you ever do something so goddamn stupid again!” bakugou growls, his voice low and thick with rage.

he isn’t even looking at the enemies anymore, but at you—his gaze pinning you in place.

you straighten, ignoring the blood staining your shirt, and shoot him a glare.

“what were you thinking, bakugou?” you snap, your voice rough but defiant. “you think charging in here like that’s any better?”

bakugou’s jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow. the tension between you is palpable. but then, with a sound that almost resembles a growl, bakugou snaps.

“don’t try to turn this on me!” he barks. “you could’ve been killed! you think I’m gonna just let you die in some goddamn back alley like this?”

his voice breaks, cracking just slightly as he glares down at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “what were you thinking?! do you want to die or something?!”

for a moment, you’re struck silent. the anger in his voice is so raw, so unfiltered, that it takes the wind out of you.

but the hurt behind it makes your chest tighten. you have never heard bakugou sound like that before. never seen him this...desperate.

“why do you even care, bakugou?” you ask, your voice softer than intended. you hadn’t meant for it to sound that way, but it’s too late to take it back.

bakugou freezes, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he scowls, looking away as if he hasn’t just heard you.

the silence that stretches between you is suffocating, and you can’t help but feel exposed.

you aren’t sure what possessed you to ask such a question, but the way bakugou is standing there, his posture tight and his fists still trembling, makes you feel the need to.

“I just—do, okay?” bakugou finally mutters, his voice gruff and not nearly as confident as he usually sounds. “now quit acting like you don’t need help for once, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

you stare at him, disbelief gnawing at you. he’s...worried. maybe even scared.

for a moment, the world outside of you falls away, leaving just you and bakugou standing there in the wreckage.

but you don’t want to let him see how much his words affect you.

not now, not while you’re still trying to make sense of everything.

“don’t get all sentimental on me now, bakugou,” you mutter, a weak smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you try to brush off the intensity of the moment. “I’m fine. just need a second.”

but bakugou doesn’t seem convinced. he steps forward, his hand—hesitant but undeniably gentle—hovering near your side as though waiting for your permission to help.

you catch his eyes for a moment, and for the first time in a long while, you see something other than his usual cocky arrogance. something softer.

“don’t push yourself, alright?” he mutters, his voice quieter now, almost awkward. “I don’t want to drag your ass out of here next time.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and nod, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in your chest at his words.

for a few moments, everything seems suspended in time.

the world outside is still, the only sound the occasional rush of wind.

you can feel the intensity of his gaze lingering on you, his presence more solid than ever before.

it’s a strange feeling—this unspoken connection, the weight of his concern settling between you like an unvoiced understanding.

despite his usual tough exterior, there’s no mistaking the softness in his actions, the care that has been there all along, hidden beneath layers of pride and deflection.

and for the first time, you can’t ignore it.

the moment passes, though, and as quickly as it comes, you both fall into your familiar roles, quickly finishing up the mission.

the two of you barely speak on the way back, the silence stretching between you as you navigate the now-empty streets.

every once in a while, bakugou glances your way, but he never says anything.

as you both enter the safehouse, the cold interior air does little to ease the pounding headache building in your skull.

bakugou drops his gear by the door, his shoulders stiff with tension. he moves like he’s still on edge, as if the mission hasn’t quite ended for him.

you take a seat on the couch, trying to ignore the throb in your side as you start to peel off your tactical vest.

“you should get that looked at,” bakugou says, his voice still rough with exhaustion. “you’re lucky I didn’t leave your ass behind.”

you shoot him a pointed glare but don’t respond.

instead, you take a breath, looking down at the hand gripping the fabric of your vest before finally speaking, your voice quieter than usual.

“bakugou,” you start, the question from earlier swirling back in your mind. “why do you care so much?”

his back stiffens, and you can feel the tension in the room crackle like static. he turns to look at you, his expression unreadable for a moment.

then, his eyes soften—just barely—but enough to make your heart race in your chest.

“you think i’m gonna let some idiot hero get themselves killed?” his voice is harsher than it needs to be. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

but the words feel like a cover-up.

you see it in the way his hands ball into fists, the slight tremor in his jaw, like he’s trying to push something down.

you tilt your head, an eyebrow raising. “no, seriously. you’ve been acting like a goddamn wrecking ball this whole time, but that’s not really your style, is it?”

bakugou glares at you. “shut up, will you? I did what needed to be done. not everything’s about you.”

but you’re not ready to drop it. there’s a knot in your chest that won’t loosen, and you can feel the words slipping out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“don’t lie, bakugou. you’re acting weird. you’ve never cared this much before. what’s going on?”

there’s a long silence. you watch as bakugou’s eyes flick to the side, his lips pressed. finally, he lets out a breath, long and slow, and walks over to the window.

“I don’t have time for this, alright?” his voice is low. “I just—”

he pauses, like the words are stuck in his throat.

the long, drawn-out silence stretches between you like an unspoken confession. it’s raw, and despite every instinct telling you to back off, you don’t move.

“I just... I just don’t want to lose you, alright?” his voice cracks just slightly as he finally turns to face you, eyes burning with a mix of anger and hesitance.

“you make me—damn it, you make me lose my focus. every damn time, you just keep going and doing stupid shit, and it pisses me off. but I can’t—”

he shakes his head, his fists clenching again as his cheeks flush.

you blink, your heart skipping a beat at the words, unsure if you’ve heard him right. “what are you talking about?”

bakugou’s frustration is palpable, but it’s different now, tangled with something softer. he exhales sharply, as if the very act of saying it is painful.

“I don’t want you to die,” he says, eyes still locked on yours. “I don’t want to keep pulling your ass out of dangerous situations,

but every time, it just...it matters more than it should. and I don’t know why. I just—” and his voice drops into a groan.

your mind races, but all you can do is stare at him, trying to process everything he’s just said. is he...admitting something?

is he actually confessing to you?

you try to respond, your voice shaky but determined. “bakugou, I—”

before you can finish, he huffs, stepping back slightly.

“forget it. this isn’t—this wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mutters, visibly trying to shake off the moment. “I didn’t mean to...whatever. you should get some rest.”

“no,” you snap, your heart pounding as you take a step forward.

you’re not about to let him hide from this, not this time. “no, you’re not just going to walk away from this. not like this.”

his scowl deepens, but there’s something in his eyes he can’t quite mask. he crosses his arms, clearly uncomfortable, but his voice is still tight with frustration.

“what the hell do you want me to say, huh? it’s not like I can just...do this shit the ‘right’ way.”

you move even closer, your gaze unwavering, and something inside you surges, something you can’t hold back anymore.

“I don’t need you to do it the ‘right’ way, bakugou,” you say, your voice steady but intense. “I just need you to stop pretending this doesn’t matter.”

his lips part, like he’s about to snap back at you, but he falters, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

“I don’t know how to...how to deal with this, alright? I don’t—” he clenches his fists at his sides, frustration evident on his face.

“you’re not the only one who feels this way, you know,” you cut in, your words sharper now, tinged with your own frustration and longing.

“you’re not the only one who’s...frustrated.” you swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“I care about you, too, bakugou. and I’m not going to sit here pretending like what happened didn’t matter.”

he freezes.

his eyes widen, and you see something—his lighting up just a bit.

“you—” he stops himself, jaw tightening. but his voice is unsteady when he speaks again. “you care? what—”

you nod, your heart in your throat, but now you’re certain. “yeah. I do. a hell of a lot more than I want to admit.”

he shifts on his feet, confusion warring with reluctant relief. “so what the hell do you want from me, huh?” he grumbles, his frustration still biting, but it’s calmer.

you take another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I want you to stop running away from this, bakugou. stop pretending it’s something you can ignore.”

his lips press together in a hard line, but for a brief moment, you think he might dismiss it again.

but then, after a long, measured breath, he looks up at you, and this time, there’s a small smile on his face.

“fine,” he mutters, gaze dropping to the floor, chuckling as he runs a hand through his hair. “I guess...I want to be with you too, alright?”

your heart skips a beat at the bluntness of it.

it catches you off guard, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “so, what, you’re saying you’re into me now, huh?”

bakugou flushes, the scowl returning to his face quickly and the blood rushing to his face as he quickly turns away, clearly embarrassed.

“shut up! don’t make me say it again.”

you laugh softly. “guess I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

bakugou sighs heavily, but then his eyes flick to you for a second. you stare back at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest. your eyes widen as you collide against him, and you snap your head up, ready to yell at him.

but you halt as he cocks his head to the side and replies with a smirk, “damn right.”

— you've got a new message!

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

gif by: @pedropcl

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: your thoughts are now consumed by joel. you cannot function properly without him nearby.

warnings: MINORS DNI. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], dumbification, toxic attachments, joel is SO fucking manipulative, aftercare (very late), cuddle fingeriinnggg, slow making out, finger sucking, pussy pronouns, joel "just the tip" miller, bare pussy grinding, spit as lube cause he's a nasty man, joel is also a scary man

wc: 6.7k

notes: my depraved baddies, we're getting closer and closer to the enddddd. also, virginity is a social construct. i understand that someone can still "lose their virginity" from fingering, BUT THIS IS FICTION. IGNORE IT. AND ENJOY IT. PLEASE. 🥺🥺🥺

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There has never been a time in your life when you felt truly alone. You always had your close group of friends, with whom you spent time nearly every other day, having a great time. You also had social media to keep you busy during times of boredom. Regretting not making the most of those two makes you feel foolish. That's all you'll ever be; a foolish little girl. Joel was right. You're nothing without him. You need him. You need his guidance to navigate the harsh realities of the world. Losing your only two means of escape is forcing you to face revelations you're not ready for. You're not prepared for adulthood, not just yet. At this moment, you feel utterly alone.

Minutes pass as you shuffle on your feet behind Joel, gazing at the back of his head while he sits at the kitchen table. He was considerate enough to leave your door unlocked, granting you the liberty to wander around the house, yet ensuring the front and back doors remained closed and locked. "Can't trust you going out alone anymore," he had said to you earlier today. His reasoning was fair. You had acted recklessly, and now you're facing the consequences. You don't hold Joel responsible. You never did blame him for his decisions. If only you had heeded his advice from the beginning. Be a good girl.

"Uh, Daddy?" You softly call out to him, your voice meek and quiet like a little mouse. Joel barely turns his head, motioning with his finger for you to come closer. With shaky steps, you stand between his spread legs.

Joel's gaze lifts to meet yours, his hair disheveled from constantly running his fingers through it. A sense of satisfaction swells in his chest as he notices your nervousness around him. You struggle to maintain eye contact and can't help but flinch whenever his hand moves abruptly.

"You should be getting down on your knees when you address Daddy, babydoll. It's the only polite thing to do, don't you think?" He tuts at you softly, raising his brows expectantly. He just realized that he hasn't provided his girl with a list of rules to follow. Considering your innocent and unaware nature, he thinks that assigning such a significant task might be too overwhelming for you to handle all at once.

With wide eyes, you scramble to your knees in front of him, your hands placed on the ground between your knees. The positioning accidentally causes the straps of your dress to slide down your shoulders, just barely exposing your chest to Joel's predatory eyes.

"Attagirl," he murmurs, the backs of his knuckles lovingly stroking your jaw, his thumb just barely pressing into one of the finger shaped bruises. "Now, what did you want to ask me, sweetheart?"

The intensity of Joel's gaze makes the question die on your lips. His fingers continue to stroke your jaw gently, their warmth coaxing you into a state of calm. The anxieties that once troubled you are fading away, leaving only the desire to please him, to heed his words, to fulfill his wishes. Joel. Joel. Joel.

He can see your eyes go unfocused the more he keeps his hand connected to your bruised skin. A sick smirk plays on his lips. Seeing you immediately submit to him so easily excites him. To have you down on your knees before him, eyes wide and glassy, lips parted. There's a part of him that wonders why he loves this, this power he holds. Joel is a depraved man, one that feeds into that sick monster hidden beneath him. He never acted this way with your mom. He never even spanks her, let alone gets her to submit in such a way that makes him feel like a god.

The second your body started developing into the womanly figure you have now is what had caught his attention early on. Maybe it's because you looked so much like her in her teenage years, or because you're just so fucking innocent and pure. Either way, his attraction for your mom had long since faded away, and you were the next best thing he wanted to take and destroy.

"Sweetheart," he calls out, gently shaking your shoulder to recapture your attention. "Is there something you want to tell me?" His voice, coupled with the gesture, brings you back to the moment.

With a frantic blink, you refocus your eyes on Joel. He nods, signaling for you to speak, the slight twitch in his jaw betraying his growing impatience. As you shuffle on your knees, your backside presses into the heel of your feet. You attempt to conceal your grimace, yet the intense pain swiftly radiates. Tears gather in your eyes as the burning sensation and fuzziness become overpowering.

Sniffling softly, you say, "I-I was just w-wondering if... if you can, um, make my behind feel a little better?" The question was shy, and you didn't even want to look at him, for you think he's going to reject you.

Joel's grin broadens at the sight of the soft, dejected expression on your face, and as your shoulders slump and your head hangs low, you brace for his scolding for having asked him to do such a task. You deserve to feel the pain of last night's punishment. You don't deserve Joel's gentle hands massaging the sore spots, kissing and whispering sweet praises in your ears. You weren't a good girl, and you don't blame him for not treating you as such.

His voice was so sweet and cooing. "Yeah? You want Daddy to make the pain go away?" His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, your little pink tip just barely poking out to rub across the pad.

The saltiness of his skin has your mouth salivating. You suck his thumb further between your lip, jerking your head to a weak nod as you hum affirmatively. Joel hums as well, only deep in thought as he weighs his options. He could keep on with his heinous punishments, forcing you to plead for him to stop--it's such a dangerous game to play. Alternatively, he might be kind today and pamper you, lavishing you with affection that you feel you don't deserve, which could further endear him to your impressionable mind. As he looks into your eyes and sees the way you're gazing up at him, his thumb firmly tucked between those lips and your silky little tongue swirling around the tip, he chooses the latter.

"Get your butt upstairs and lie on your tummy while Daddy grabs a few things, okay, babydoll?"

The soft breeze of your ceiling fan emitted a chill throughout your body, albeit a pleasant one. Goosebumps erupted on your skin, almost soothing the heat radiating from your bruised backside. Lying on your stomach, you wait patiently, straining your ears for any sign of Joel, but silence is all that meets you. The anticipation of his arrival has you swallowing hard against your pillow. It's as if he's moving quietly and slowly on purpose, prolonging the moment to heighten your sense of anticipation.

This was how he played his sick games. He was the cat, and you were the mouse. He loves being the predator and you, his prey. And for some obscene reason, you love it too.

A small creak at the doorway made you tense for a moment, but you relaxed upon seeing Joel standing there, his large frame filling the doorway. In his hands were two things: a white cloth rag of some kind and a bottle of lotion. You shiver delightfully, knowing that in just a few minutes he was going to be taking care of you in the way you needed.

"Ain't you a peach," he grins and steps inside, using his foot to fully shut the door, officially trapping the both of you inside. Joel's grin widens when he sees just how marked your backside is, the welts swollen and skin broken, large bruises that are all types of hues of blue and purple. "Hmm... Now, that's what I like to see."

You don't respond, opting to stay silent as you curiously observe him from over your shoulder. He pats your hip with the back of his hand, wordlessly telling you to scoot over. Once you do so, Joel unbuttons his shirt, completely removing the offending clothing from his body and tossing it aside. His chest and stomach were now fully exposed.

In the light, with a clear mind, you finally have the chance to take in every inch of Joel. His skin was so tan, it almost blended between caramel and bronze. Dots of hair speckled his chest, a mix of dark brown and gray. Then, there's hair around his belly button before it trails down to disappear under the waistband of his jeans, the hair getting darker and thicker. His skin is a canvas of freckles and old scars, each one a silent story that tempts your curiosity. Questions about their origins linger on the tip of your tongue, yet they remain unasked, perhaps to be explored if alone time with him arises once more.

"Your head is in the clouds again, babydoll," Joel teases, his voice holding a light-heartedness to it, immediately easing your nerves. At the sound of your quiet giggle that you muffle in your pillow, he gets comfortable between your thighs, gently coaxing them to spread wider to accommodate his large size. "There we go," he whispers under his breath.

The hot rag in his hand is gently laid over your backside, the fabric big enough to cover both cheeks. The sudden feeling made you flinch and whine unpleasantly, one foot gently kicking to try to distract you from the pain. Joel hushes you softly, one of his hands sweetly rubbing up and down the back of your thighs.

"Just relax, babydoll," his voice was so soft and comforting. "Let Daddy take care of your pretty self." He applies light pressure to the hot rag, further soothing the sensitive, enflamed skin. Another whisper comes from above, a little less pained and a lot more relieved. "That feel good, baby?"

You let out a drowsy hum as you succumb to the sensation. There was a liquid heat pooling all around your lower half as the pain from your backside gradually melts into a dull ache. Joel glances down between your thighs, your pussy lips spreading open, labia and clit on display for him to see. There's a shine covering your untouched hole. The pearly slick, slowly, slowly, slowly sliding out of your hole and trailing down to cover your clit. There's a small flutter as your pussy clenches, just briefly. An ache in Joel's jaw and his mouth salivating reminds him that now is not the time to act on his impulse. As much as he wants to bury his face between those thighs, he knows he has to make sure that you're going to be working properly before he has his fun again.

When the rag gets cold, he removes it from your backside. The cold air bites into your skin, the sudden shock taking you by surprise. The sensation of pin pricks across your exposed skin causes you to squirm. Joel is aware that it's painful once more. Your soft whimpers of discomfort prompt a quiet chuckle from him.

He grabs the bottle of lotions and squirts a generous amount into the palm of his hand. "Just a second, babydoll," he tells you softly, coaxing you to lay flat on your tummy again. You wait for a few seconds, and then you feel it.

There's a gooey warmth that covers both of your cheeks. It makes your eyes flutter shut. Then, Joel's hands start to massage your tender flesh, gently rubbing and smoothing out the aches. The pressure was so good, and the weight of his hands on your ass allowed your brain to slowly turn into mush.

He continues massaging your cheeks, even going as far as to "accidentally" swipe his thumb against your puckered hole. The action caused you to jolt and gasp, the sound of his laughter making your cheeks warm. When the ache was now dulled into a pleasant numbness, you stretched out your limbs like a little kitty in the sunlight, a soft hum vibrating into the pillow. You look over your shoulder and watch as Joel wipes his hands clean with the damp rag he had used. Seeing his bare chest has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"Uh... Daddy?" There was hesitation in the way you spoke. The idea occurred to you the second Joel had removed his shirt. The sight of your stepdad in your bedroom, clad in just his jeans, touching you in such a way was exciting. Warmth pooled in your stomach, a certain liquid heat that was hard to ignore.

Joel gazes at you with expectation, his eyebrows lifted as he catches the hesitant expression on your face. It seems like you're eager to ask him something, yet you're apprehensive about his reaction. Before this ambiguous relationship began, you'd always rush over to him, words spilling out rapidly to pose questions without a second thought. He was charmed by it. Your eyes sparkled with innocent curiosity, hanging on his every word, which he thought was incredibly cute. However, given his recent behavior, you've become more cautious about your inquiries, wanting to ensure they're significant.

"Can... Can we kiss, like how we did last time?"

The surprise on his face made you giggle. He wasn't expecting you to ask for something like that, let alone think of the naughty stuff he's already done with you at the beginning of the week. Joel clears his throat and trails his eyes over your nude backside, zeroing in on your bare pussy, almost screaming for him to touch and lick up. When he looks back up at you from where you lay against the pillow, your bottom lip tucked underneath your top teeth and your messy hair, he finds himself nodding.

When he props himself up against your pillows, you immediately clamber onto his chest, one leg resting between his legs while your other is propped up and slung over his hip. With your head resting comfortably on his shoulder, Joel rests one arm behind your back, curling it to cup your jaw from behind. Your heart is facing as you get close to his face. Eyes half-lidded and lips parted, you're the one that makes the first move.

When your lips meet, it's like stars bursting behind your eyelids. So soft, so inviting. Joel's lips are as addictive as an expensive drug. You crave their touch every second, every minute, every day.

His tongue enters your mouth and you're quick to eagerly suck it between your lips. He groans huskily and pulls his tongue away before messily kissing you. The hand that rests on your hip slowly trails down and around the back of your thigh before the tips of his fingers rest along your labia. Then, he starts rubbing up and down, further spreading the wetness that leaks out of your empty pussy. He touches everywhere. Your swollen clit, puffy labia, bare pussy lips, and your fluttering hole are left untouched.

You're nibbling on his bottom lip, eagerly shoving your tongue sloppily into his tongue. Joel groans at the taste of your mixed saliva. To have you in his arms like this, naked and so very vulnerable, it was driving him fucking insane. Your hips are shifting and bucking towards his hand, but each time his fingers rub deeper, he pulls them away. When he also pulls his lips from yours, you chase them with a desperate whimper.

"Patience, babydoll," he mutters, glancing down at the pleasure-drunk expression on your face. "Let Daddy have some fun." Joel continues smearing your wetness all over. The messy sounds of your slick being rubbed with his long, thick fingers has you blushing fiercely with embarrassment--embarrassed at the fact that he's touching you like this, probably in the same way he's touched your mom in the past. It's so dirty and naughty.

Your hand gently pets at his scruffy jaw, lashes fluttering so prettily like a butterfly's wings. Lips parted, you slowly and gently kissed him again. This kiss, however, was a lot different than the others. There was a tenderness that Joel got lost in. It made his heart skip a beat, like actually skip a beat. You're so sure he can feel your heart racing as well. Languid kissing was now your favorite thing with him. The soft, wet smacking sounds of your lips connecting and disconnecting has you whimpering delicately.

Joel's fingers now focus on your fluttering pussy hole, slick dripping out non-stop, further adding to the stickiness on his finger pads. The hand holding your jaw from behind your head tightens to pull you away.

"I'm goin' to put a finger inside, okay, baby? Daddy's goin' to make that little pussy feel so good," he whispers needily against your wet lips. When you protest, he shushes you and kisses your lips repeatedly. "Be quiet while Daddy has his fun."

Very carefully, he pushes his middle finger inside your pussy, shushing you again when you let out a squeak and try to pull your hips away. Joel's fingers follow your movements, only deepening each time you try to move. He slowly fucks his fingers inside your pussy, the tight, wet heat making his dick thicken in his jeans. The sloppy sounds of your slick, coupled with your weak whimpers has him growling lowly. He retracts his finger and goes back to rubbing your pussy in up-and-down movements again, only this time he's paying more attention to your needy clit.

"Tha' feel good, honey?" He murmurs sweetly against your lips, kissing you once, twice, three times before glancing down at you. With a shaky nod, you tell him in that pretty voice yes, yes, feels s'good. "Mhm."

Your hips are barely grinding against his thick bulge as if they have a mind of their own. There's a neediness in the way you mouth at his neck, your tongue and teeth mapping every inch that you can reach. With your focus now on something else, Joel takes this opportunity to move his hand from your weeping cunt and bring it between your bodies to slyly unbutton and unzip his jeans. He slowly pulls them down, leaning his head back down to capture your lips in another syrupy slow kiss. His cock springs out of his jeans and rests above the waistband of his boxers.

You're not paying attention to what he's doing--so focused on his lips, his warm skin, his chest, his tongue, his scent, just Joel. Daddy. Daddy.

With your attention on his mouth, Joel blindly grips the base of his cock and brings the tip to your opening. He glides the engorged tip up and around your fluttering hole, tapping it lewdly and crudely against it as wet smacking sounds filling the air. Your eyes fly open, and your body seizes as you grab onto his burly forearm.

"Daddy, no! I'm not ready yet!" You practically cry out, eyes wide and frazzled as you frantically shake your head. You've seen the size of Joel. The man is packing. He's fucking massive. And you know you're not ready to take all of him. You can't imagine the pain of being split open by something so long and so thick.

Joel hushes you sweetly, removing his hand from his thick base to tenderly grab a hold of your hip again. "Jus' grind tha' pussy on Daddy for a little bit, baby. Ssshh... you can do tha' for me, right?" His hips start to slowly grind his dick between your pussy lips, your labia spreading open and your clit catching his frenulum. "You wanna be a good girl for me, right? You wanna be punished again, babydoll? Hm? That what you want?"

Feeble whimpers leave your swollen lips at the thought of Joel further punishing you, beating your backside black and blue again. Resting back onto his chest, you shyly wiggle your hips until the position is comfortable enough for you to grind your hips forward and back. Joel grins and cups the back of your thigh to lift it higher on his waist. The feeling of his cock, now covered in your wetness and gliding easily between your pussy lips, has you feeling so tingly and warm down there. It was a new sensation. Getting to feel the thick vein that stretches from the base all the way to his tip was surreal.

"It... It feels... good," you whisper against his scruffy jaw, lips parted next to his chin to let out heavy breaths as the warmth spreads. "I-I like it."

Joel's deep chuckle reached your ears. "Daddy knows best, babydoll," he tells you, his hips grinding a little harder, so his tip nudges the hood of your clit to fully expose the sensitive nerve. "Daddy knows what's good for you, honey." His hand tightens on your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks to part your lips. "You're jus' my little girl that don't know any better, ain't you? Hm? Are you my dumb babygirl?"

The kiss he gives you is filthy. Your hushed whines are muffled as his tongue fights against yours. The liquid heat burns bigger and stronger, spreading all throughout your lower half, down to the tips of your toes and back up again. Your cunt is fluttering wildly. You feel the same sensation as when Joel ate your pussy. He knows it's going to happen. He can tell in the way your whines get more high-pitched and your hips stutter against his wet cock.

When he pulls away, you chase after him again, one hand desperately grabbing the back of his neck to pull him back down. No, no, no, please, don't go, don't leave me. Eyes filled with tears, you weakly beg him, "Da-Daddy, p-please don't... d-don't stop."

As Joel pulls away, the panic clear as day in your eyes has his heart thudding faster. Oh, you poor girl. So desperate to keep him close by. It was an adorable sight, seeing your eyes filled with thick tears as you beg him, over and over again to please, don't leave me. But he hushes you softly, gripping your jaw tighter and pressing into the bruises. His free hand comes up to his lips where he spits a thick wad of saliva in his palm. His hand goes back down between your bodies to coat his cock in his spit, some of it dripping down his heavy balls.

"Can I put the tip inside your little pussy, baby?" Joel breathlessly asks against your swollen lips, pressing a tender kiss before repeating the question again. "Can Daddy put the tip inside? Hm?"

He grinds his cock up and down your pussy again, the added slickness of his spit creating this disgusting, sopping noise. You start protesting as he notches his thick tip at your wet entrance. Grabbing at his forearm once again, you try your best to keep him from pushing it inside.

Shaking your head frantically, you tell him again, weakly, "I-I'm not ready yet, Daddy!"

Joel shuts you up by biting down roughly on your bottom lip, breaking the skin and licking away the blood that dots the pink flesh. With your blood on his tongue, that only fuels the animalistic need within him to fucking split you open.

"It's just the tip, babydoll," he tells you again, his voice deep, gravelly, wrecked. "You can take it, honey. C'mon. You can... take it." Ignoring your crying protests, he slowly pushed his hips up to slide his tip inside your pussy for the first time. He groans heavily against your mouth, sucking your bloody bottom lip between his own and licking the redness away. "Fuuuuuck."

The burn was nearly excruciating. Having something so thick and wide inside your virgin pussy has your breath catching in your throat. To know that Joel wants to put every single inch of himself deep inside is terrifying. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. No, no, no.

"See? It ain't so bad, huh?" Joel's grin is sick and wide as he feels your hole fluttering wildly around his tip. He gently starts to push his hips in and out, slowly fucking his tip into your cunt. "She's jus' suckin' me right in, ain't she? Fuuuck, baby. She's jus' drivin' me fuckin' crazy." His accent was getting gradually thicker and almost incoherent. His heart is racing over a hundred beats per minute under your shaky palm.

You're trying to breathe in and out deeply to not focus on the uncomfortable pain. The stretch was slowly setting to a numbness. The tip of Joel's cock keeps pressing against a spot beneath your pubic bone, giving you the feeling of tingles but more intense. Joel's smile gets much wider when your body relaxes against his chest, your nose pressing into his neck beneath his ear to let out hushed moans that you're trying so hard to keep silent.

"There we go," he hums deeply. "She jus' needed time to get used to Daddy's dick, hm?" The way he's talking to you and referencing your pussy has you melting into a puddle. It's all so intense and overwhelming--you never want it to end. "Jus' you wait 'til Daddy gets so deep inside of her." He accentuated the word by nudging just an inch deeper inside your pussy, forcing a choked groan from your drooling lips.

Joel's hand is still curled around the base, just below his tip. He can feel the coil tightening in the pit of his stomach as his balls draw tighter. He's panting heavily against your forehead, the slick noises just adding to the liquid heat spreading along his large body. Fuck, he was going to cum just like this, his tip lodged inside his stepdaughter's tight, virgin cunt. A sick, old man he is--defiling his wife's daughter and enjoying the depravity. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Fuck," Joel growls, his nostrils flaring, jaw clenching, and teeth baring as he grips his base tightly and yanks his hips away. He slots his cock between your ass cheeks and strokes his hand up and down hastily, your bruised cheeks jiggling from his fist meeting the flesh repeatedly. The sight has his toes curling. The drowsy whimper you release in his ear and the fucking scent of your pussy that he can smell all the way up from where he lay has his cock throbbing. "Daddy's cummin', babydoll. Oh, f-fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck."

His cum shoots out from between your ass cheeks, thick ropes of white painting your bruises and cute little back dimples, even going so far to reach up your spine and almost landing in your hair. He just won't stop cumming. It's going and going. Joel's entire body is trembling as he jerks the tip, forcing out the last few dribbles of his cum onto your puckered hole.

You felt his spend splattering across your skin, and you wiggle impatiently in his hold, wishing you could've seen it with your own eyes if you weren't so tucked against his neck. Joel lets out a heavy, shaky breath. His beautifully hooked nose brushes against yours, coaxing you to lift your head.

He brings his cum-covered fingers to your lips, the tips rubbing lovingly across the bottom. Maintaining eye contact, you part them and let Joel slowly push his fingers into your mouth. The taste of his cum on your tongue was unlike anything you've ever tasted. It was a masculine, heavy taste, which perfectly accentuates who Joel Miller is. Your eyes flutter shut as you eagerly bring in a third finger, your lips stretched wide around his thick fingers.

"Attagirl," Joel huskily mumbles. "Jus' like that."

You and Joel have fallen into a steady routine. There's an unspoken agreement of where your place is. He can shoot you a specific look and you immediately know what he's trying to say. Joel's an easy man to read, at least to you. There have been many instances where you overheard him and your mom arguing about him being so closed off. But with you, he's so natural at showing you multiple sides of him. You don't mind, really.

As evening falls, Joel is at the stove preparing dinner for both of you. Although it's not your preferred meal, his word is final--what he says, goes. You've learned not to refuse what he's offered so far. Standing near him, you observe his actions with keen interest. Joel often glances back to ensure you're there. You trail behind him, following his every step without question, much like a lost puppy would. Even when he steps into the bathroom, you find yourself waiting right outside the door for him to emerge. It was a weird feeling; a fear you never knew you had within you when it came to your stepdad. You feel as though if he leaves for just a split second, he's never going to come back. And you'll be here lost, alone.

"Dinner time, sweetheart," Joel declares, snapping you out of your daydream. As you dash to the table, he halts you with a hand on your arm. "Whoa, slow down there, speed racer." Chagrined by his gentle chiding, you offer a subdued apology.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, you attempt to follow suit, but he loudly tuts and extends a hand to halt you. Grasping your plate, he sets it down beside his feet. His expression leaves no space for objections. Similar to the previous day, you are left without utensils to eat with. Wordlessly, you get down onto your knees and wait for him to tell you when it's okay to start eating. Joel starts eating his meal pathetically slowly. He's doing it on purpose--you know he's doing it on purpose. He loves making you squirm. He loves to draw it out longer than it's supposed to--just an added perk to his game.

When your stomach starts grumbling loudly, you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel barely casts you a glance. He keeps eating his meal, even going as far as to hum loudly as the savoring flavors explode on his tongue. When he has just a few bites left, knowing that your food is now cold, he looks down and gives you a single nod.

Immediately, you bow your head to your plate and begin to hastily mop up your meal. It's untidy and careless, yet it doesn't bother you. You're uncertain when Joel might surprise you again, preventing or restricting your eating. As you take each bite, you watch for a sign from him to cease. Looking up, you notice his focus is solely on his own meal, methodically chewing. Sensing your gaze, he commands without glancing your way, "Eat your damn food before I take it away." With a strained whimper, you comply.

Silence stretches through the air as you both eat. You refrain from mentioning to Joel that your stomach is cramping from eating too quickly, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the meal he prepared with care. When he looks at you, he notices the gradual slowing of your jaw as you struggle to swallow. It's becoming apparent to him that feeding you just once a day is taking its toll.

Suddenly, a series of knocks sounded at the door—five urgent, frantic raps. Panic gripped you, shoulders tightening and jaw clenching as you exchanged a fearful glance with Joel. His brows knitted together, and he quickly wiped his hands and mouth with the napkin.

He points down at you, "You stay right here, and don't make a peep. Understood?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before forcefully pushing back his chair, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. You wince and watch anxiously as he stomps over to the door and peers through the peephole.

Joel's jaw clenches upon recognizing the visitor. Muttering, "Son of a bitch," he pulls the door open, one hand gripping the doorknob while the other rests atop the doorframe. There on the porch stands your lanky guy friend, the one you visited the lake with. "Can I help you?" he asks, his tone sharp and unwelcoming.

Your friend shifts nervously, taken aback by Joel answering the door. He softly clears his throat, attempting to peer over Joel's shoulder, but Joel moves nearer to the doorway, narrowing the gap on his side.

"I was wondering if your stepdaughter is home?" he stammers, avoiding eye contact with Joel. "She hasn't been answering her phone, and our friends are really worried," he adds, while Joel feels a sense of satisfaction from the fear he perceives in the boy's demeanor.

"She's grounded," Joel says, his tone getting colder when the boy tries, yet again, to look over his shoulder. "Now, I suggest you turn your ass around and get the fuck off my porch."

Your friend's eyes widen, and he takes a staggered step back at Joel's violently dark tone. "The fuck is your problem, man?!"

From within the house, the volume of your friend's voice escalates, almost to a shout at Joel. You observe Joel's hand clench around the doorknob, and it's surprising that it remains intact under his grasp.

He can't understand what overtakes him; perhaps it's knowing you're mere feet away, or maybe it's because the kid has witnessed things about you he disapproves of. However, the only thing Joel is aware of is the white-hot rage engulfing him. You watch as he storms out and slams the door with such force that the vibration is felt on the ground where you kneel.

Outside, Joel's hands clench the collar of the boy's shirt, likely tearing the fabric with his sheer strength. He thrusts him against the porch post, almost splintering the wood and the boy's skull with the impact. Joel leans in, his shoulders rising and falling, emitting a low growl from his throat. The boy's whimpers are muffled as Joel's knuckles press into his windpipe.

"Listen to me, and you listen good," Joel leans in close, his voice low and dangerous. "If you so much as talk to her again, look at her, touch her, or even think about her, I'll have you wishin' you were never born." Your friend's toes are barely skimming the ground as Joel has him literally lifted up against the wooden post. His hands are frantically grabbing Joel's forearms, feet weakly kicking. The man doesn't budge--he only presses harder. "If you come back to my house to bother my girl one more time, I will fuckin' kill you." He gravely whispers the last threat and releases his hands, watching as your friend pathetically falls to the ground onto his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air as he grabs his throat. "Now, go on. Get."

Joel remains on the porch, his fists clenched at his sides, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. His gaze is fixed on your friend as he dashes away and fumbles into his meager Honda Civic. Even after the vehicle disappears down the road, Joel is motionless. The fury within him, burning in his chest and gut, has not subsided; it has only grown stronger.

Within the house, silence prevails. A single loud thump disrupts the quiet, followed by stillness. You pause for a moment, the sound of your own heartbeat the only noise. The urge to call out to Joel is strong, but the words are stuck in your throat. Anxiety creeps back into your chest, gnawing at your heart and corroding your veins. Did Joel leave? Where is he? Where did he go? Please, come back. Daddy, don't leave. Where are you? Please, please, come back. Don't leave me here alone. They're going to get me. Please. Oh, God. He's gone. He's never coming back.

White noise fills the cracks in Joel's mind. He sits on the porch swing hunched over, both elbows resting on his knees as he twiddles with his gold wedding band. His knee bounces up and down in quick succession. Someone had gotten too close to his home--to his special girl. The lanky fucking kid. Joel's hands clench into tight fists, just begging to slam them into your friend's face over and over until he's a mangled, unrecognizable pile of flesh and broken bones.

He's uncertain of the time he's spent out here; it might have been minutes or perhaps an hour. Time mattered little to him. His thoughts were consumed by you, his little girl. In his eyes, no one could match what he has provided for you, and he believes you would agree. Joel is confident in his knowledge, convinced that you belong to him. He sees himself as your destined protector, even if his hands were metaphorically elongated like a beast with monstrous nails ready to strike.

You belonged to Joel Miller, whether you knew it or not.

As the streetlights flicker on, he realizes it's time to head back inside. The neighborhood is winding down for the evening. A sudden memory jolts Joel; he had left you alone in the house. Leaping from his seat, he flings the door open, then slams it shut, securing both the bottom and top locks. Turning towards the kitchen, he freezes upon spotting you—a mere few feet away, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, whimpering and trembling.

"Babydoll," Joel tuts and carefully walks around you to bend down, tenderly pushing your hair from your face and catching sight of your tear-filled eyes. "Did I tell you to move? Hm?"

The sound of his voice was like a lifeline to your heart—his words were the breath you needed, and you felt as if you were at death's door. In a rush, you stood and threw your arms around his shoulders, almost toppling both of you to the ground. Tears streamed down your face, and sobs of distress were just barely restrained the moment his body pressed against yours.

Crying out to him, "Y-You left me! You l-left me a-alone! I thought... I thought you weren't coming back! The bad people were gonna t-take me away from you!" Trying to bury yourself deeper in his neck, you silently begged for Joel to take you somewhere, far away from here.

It was naive to believe you could manage alone. At your current age, it's only a matter of time before your mom discusses the prospect of moving out. Yet now, the mere idea of being apart from Joel triggers a wave of panic. How can you explain to your mom that without him, you feel incomplete? She might find it appalling. It wasn't difficult to keep your relationship with Joel a secret, but the threat of being pushed out of the house makes you wonder if it's worth it.

"I-I don't think I can do this anymore, Joel," you wept, sniffling and breathing heavily in his shoulder, fingers desperately grabbing at the fabric of his t-shirt to keep him close when he shifts an inch or two away. "I can't... I can't be away from you. I can't th-think, I can't function, I can't breathe w-without you, Daddy!"

There it was, the answer he's been waiting for. Hook, line, sinker. Joel has damaged you so severely to where you need to be around him or else you'll go crazy. This is what he was waiting for, fucking aching for. So young, so innocent, so pure. Now tainted by his predatory hands, bruised and marked by his false promises and sick fantasies. This is a dream come true. His wedding band almost burns through your skin as you feel the cold metal on your bare shoulder.

"Oh, my sweet babydoll," he coos in your ear, that honeyed tone of his easing your worries.

If only you understood his thoughts about you, his desires from you. Convincing your mind that this relationship is normal, making you believe that this is true love—you poor, poor girl.

Joel continues, his voice gradually turning dark as his hands tighten around your shoulders, nails digging crescents into your delicate skin, "This is just the beginning."

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[revelboo]

Can we get soft sex with fort max? Bb deserves the world and there isn't a whole lot of that for him

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Soft

Fort Max x Reader

• “What about after?” You ask, voice breathless as he shifts at your back. Palm splayed on your belly, he lazily rocks against you, shuddering when you reach back and grab at an audial antenna on his helm to make him groan. “After you catch all of your escapees?” You add on a whimper. Like you really believe there’s an after for him. Loving you for that, he presses his face against the back of your neck and vents to pull your scent deep.

• “I report for my next assignment,” he growls, hips pumping in unhurried thrusts and you feel every ridge on his spike stroking inside you to make your toes curl. And it’s so hard to focus with him inside you, especially when he carefully rolls you onto your belly, hooking an arm under your hips as he moves against you. Hearing his fans kick on as he rumbles.

• “Vacation?” You stutter, breath hitching as you push back to meet him. Smiling against you, because you’re so sweet, he savors the feel of you in his arms. But he’s an enforcer, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t get breaks or vacations, because someone always needs him. Which is why he cherishes his time with you, he doesn’t have to be anything other than himself for you. He can relax and not worry about duty or responsibility for a few joors in your arms. Pretend he’s a normal mech. That he’s allowed this.

• “I don’t get vacations,” he groans, hips rolling. And he drags you back when he rears up on his knees, hands gripping your hips. The change in angle shivering through you as you gasp and tremble. His hips pumping against you in a handful of urgent thrusts until you climax with a moan. Feeling him drive deep and grind against you, growling as he overloads.

• Not wanting to leave the wet heat of you, just wanting to stay, his servos flex on you. Wants to stretch out with you in his arms and keep talking. Something the two of you sometimes do all recharge cycle, alternating between interfacing and tangling in each other whispering. “We could, though. Go on vacation,” you say and that we chimes through his spark. Leaving him warm as he bends over you to press a kiss against the back of your shoulder. Because you have no idea how much he’d love that. To just shirk his duties and run away with you. It’s a lovely dream, but he knows he’ll never follow through. Can’t turn his back on his people, his responsibilities.

[coralinnii]

Congrats on reaching the 2.7 K followers milestone!! If it's okay to ask why specifically 2.7 K?

anyways I heard you were taking requests so I'll request something to celebrate with you :-D

I was wondering if you could do one where Idia, Kalim, Azul, Riddle rejects Fem!reader but ends up falling for reader after that, how would they react when they need to reject her and when the realization of them liking her back hits? (I tried to come up with an og idea but idrk if this one is actually good enough writing material :'-D)

 ‧₊˚✧ Waking up Too Late ‧₊˚✧

↳ Realizing their feelings for fem!reader after rejecting you 

feat: Idia ❋ Kalim ❋ Azul ❋ Riddle genre: slight hurt/comfort, open ending note: no pronouns were used but reader is written as a female in mind, reader can be interpreted as Yuu!reader, 

Question: Why specifically 2.7K? Well... I wanted to do something when I reached 2k but by the time I finished my initial wave of requests and WIPs, it already reached 2.7K ^_^" There wasn't a real rhyme or reason... I was just really late to the game

extra note: the joke in the start of Azul’s section doesn’t mean anything bad about him in general. It’s just Azul reminds me too much of myself during my younger days and I wasn't the biggest fan of myself back then.

Also, if anyone is wondering... I haven't stopped writing. I was just unable to find time for myself during the last 3 months because my classes and work didn't leave me time to do much outside of that. Seriously, I had assignments due on weekdays AND weekends! If none of you know who I am or didn't even realize I was gone... ignore me and have a good day ^_^

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

The Big Ooff

Regardless of Idia’s feelings before or after the confession, he rejected you in fear of change. He was content with the way things are, where he doesn’t have to worry about things like romance and relationships. 

Idia can’t imagine being the main protagonist for anything. He’s not the cool main hero or the handsome prince that gets the pretty girl. That's for the extroverts with high charm specs (a.k.a not him). Afterall, when does the NPC ever win? 

So when you, his friend and confidant, his solace and only exception, told him that you held feelings more than friendship…well, his system short-circuited. 

While the two of you said it wouldn’t change your friendship, you still wanted time away from him to heal the hurt. Idia agreed that the risky emotional roll dealt some real backlash to both of you.

The Realization

Idia tried to deny it, but he started imagining an alternative universe where he did accept your confession that fateful day. 

If he were to zone out during his level grinding sessions, he would vaguely envision himself in the same position, but perhaps with you lying next to him or even running your fingers through his flames. These daydreams would surprise him literally off the bed, his aforementioned flames burning a cute pinkish hue.

Some days when he’s browsing around online shops, he would occasionally encounter items that remind him of you.

Now, that in itself is not new but rather it was when he imagined how cute you would be if he got these items for you. Instead of your usual pleasantly surprised thank you, would you lovingly embrace him, maybe even kiss-! 

Ortho was startled to see his brother suddenly falling off his gaming chair, with his hands suspiciously covering his face. 

Crap, not only did he realize his feelings for you (which in hindsight probably was not surprising in the least), but he actually would like to be in a stupid lovey-dovey relationship with you. 

His Next Moves?

Continues to deny everything. So what if he wants a relationship with you? He can’t handle this new step even with these newly realized emotions. Plus, he was the one who blew his own shot by rejecting you the first time. 

So, he falls to his coping mechanism which is to deny everything and that he’s perfectly fine the way things are. 

When the two of you returned to your typical routine, he tried to keep things the way it used to be, as the same with you. 

Except it’s not quite the same. 

You weren’t sure if you were being conscious or that it’s been a while since you two hung out, but you felt that Idia was slightly more…attentive you could say?

He would give you first bids of the better controller before picking anything himself. If you seemed the slightest bit uncomfortable while sitting, the blue-flamed senior would offer you a comfier spot on his bed and a blanket if you wanted, before sputtering that he meant nothing weird about it.

He says he’s fine, but Idia’s is in no way the usual closed-off, sometimes cocky genius you knew before. He’s jittery, more prone to shriek and burst into pink flames to any of your gestures, and according to his little brother his heartbeat is slightly faster than usual. 

It’s weird…it’s like he actually acknowledges you as a woman…

Oh.

“Ahh, I seriously chose the wrong choice option. The story path…I wonder if I could still salvage a good ending…”

The Big Ooff

Kalim’s overly friendly nature, while harmless, is somewhat misleading and confusing to those around him. I mean, if someone threw a grand luxurious party for you, it’s easy to assume that you were someone special. Unfortunately, Kalim is simply just…too friendly. He would do this and more for just about anyone, no matter how special they may or may not be.

Nonetheless, you still wanted to tell him your feelings. You wanted to tell him how his smile and laugh hastens your heartbeat as you smile back. That you feel butterflies every time he extends his hands to you, coaxing you to dance with the boisterous Housewarden of Scarabia. 

To everyone’s genuine surprise, the snow-haired student sincerely apologized to you, not able to return your feelings the same way. All of your friends and also Scarabia was so sure that their Housewarden thought differently of you, but news quickly spread that Kalim never thought about being more than friends with you.

The Realization

To clarify, Kalim never thought about being more than friends with anyone. He’s happy to have so many friends, what more could he possibly want?

But your words did shake him mentally. He never realized that you would feel this way for him. On days when he can’t keep track of the lessons at hand, his mind would doze off and wander back to your confession. 

“Hastening heartbeat, feelings of butterflies, always wanting to smile when you do…”

The more he thinks about your love symptoms, he’s realizing how similar those feelings were to his own when he’s around you. It was why he would always try to find you in a crowd, or why he wanted to be your dance partner on any occasion. Sure, he’s happy to be around everyone, but he feels especially good when it's you.

The pieces are connecting, the clogs are aligning, and soon…

“JAMIL, I THINK I’M IN LOVE TOO!” 

“IS YOUR LACK OF INTROSPECTION THIS BAD?!”

His Next Moves?

Man is now a fool in love. He has this goofy smile on his boyish face at the slightest mention of you. Everytime he thinks about you, he keeps attempting to buy one or two grand bouquets of flowers for you, each flower as beautiful as you, much to Jamil’s chagrin as the vice-Housewarden has to keep reminding him of a crucial fact. 

“You two aren’t dating. Actually worse considering your prior actions.” 

Jamil’s brutal but accurate words brought Kalim back to harsh reality as he realized his mistake in not realizing his feelings soon enough. But not one to wallow in the past, Kalim sought to tell you his feelings just as you bravely did before. 

Whether I personally think if that’s a smart move is irrelevant

Whatever your response is to him, Kalim would fully respect your choice, prioritizing your comfort and feelings over his newly uncovered ones. Despite his well intentions and honest feelings before the realization, his carelessness hurt you and he needed to consider your healing process. 

Kalim would still act like a love-sick fool, however. Buying beautiful trinkets because he thought of you but won’t push them onto you if you couldn’t handle the heavy sentiment (thank Jamil for that). 

Though a little more sheepishly, he would still extend his hand to you hoping for a dance, small little gestures to make you smile even the slightest bit brighter…all this and more because “I like you” and nothing else.

Just because he’s slow in figuring things out, his feelings won’t change so easily. This special feeling of happiness, of love… he’s grateful that you taught him this whole new world.

"I’m a little much? Haha, sorry. I get really happy when I see you...It feels nice being in love with you.”

The Big Ooff

Please reconsider 

Ahem. Azul has grown accustomed to your presence. Perhaps even look forward to it throughout his daily routine, even assisting you in whatever trouble you always seem to get involved in. Some would accuse him of favoritism, but Azul argued that he was simply a gentleman treating a lady right.

He’s too observant to not notice that these sentiments are somewhat mutual. He thought of you as too kind and generous as to spend your spare time helping him around the lounge or to keep him company when the Leech twins get a little much. 

But he was surprised to learn that your feelings were deeper than he initially predicted. There was such sincerity in your voice as you confess your feelings that it shook Azul to his core and turned his human legs weak. 

However, he still had so many aspirations he hasn’t reached yet, opportunities he can’t miss. He can’t afford to split his time for something like romance, something that didn't register to him as urgent in the first place. Love is all well and good, but success is better and more tangible.

He’s careful with his words, gratefully thanking you for your confession and complimenting you with a list of traits he admired about you. 

But you should know Azul by now. He’s hyping you up before ultimately giving you crushing news. Like a company recruiter telling you weren’t chosen despite your apparent talents. 

You knew this, but it still hurts to have your dynamic treated equivalent to that of a business relation. 

The Realization

Azul understood you needed time away. Certain things were said that can’t be taken back and it’ll be a while before you two could feel comfortable around each other again. 

During this time though, the Housewarden truly felt your absence. He feels it when someone else takes a seat in his office where you usually occupy, when his mealtime feels less fulfilling because you weren’t there to enjoy it with him, when his headaches get worse from stress and you weren’t there to lend a comforting hand. 

This sense of void was like a stream of cold water slowly trickling into his body and mind until he felt heavy and almost drowning. What an odd sensation for a deep-sea merman. 

His mind became cluttered. He can’t focus on his work when all he could think about is where you might be and what you were doing. 

He reached his limit when he realized that he couldn’t even hide this internal conflict from Jade or Floyd when their keen eyes pick on every moment of his loss of focus, and they have an inkling as to the cause. 

…Dear Sevens, he might have made a great miscalculation on his own feelings.

His Next Moves?

First off, he’s going to spend some time in his pot. He needs some personal time reflecting over his own obliviousness and self-sabotage. 

Once that’s over, he now has to figure out how to remedy this. A plan to get back into your good graces after the blunder. 

He is a greedy merman. If he’s going to do something, he wants the best outcome possible, which is you forgiving him and accepting him while forgetting the past even happened.  

He’s read through countless relationship books, advice found online, and personal intel that his schoolmates were forced to generous enough to offer under an NDA. 

He’ll use the knowledge he remembered from your confession to his advantage, highlighting the parts of himself that he knew you liked about him. He shows off his good side in hopes to reignite what attracted you to him. 

If there’s anything to expose his intent with you, it’s the flush of his pale skin when you finally thanked him with that sweet smile he missed so much.

"I’m not one to lose an opportunity when within my reach. However long it takes, I’ll earn back what I’ve foolishly lost.”

The Big Ooff

Riddle was, in all seriousness, taken aback by your confession.

The studious Housewarden of Heartslabyul is definitely smart, but he’s just slightly lacking in the people-reading department. 

To him, you were simply a very loving person. He thought perhaps you were on the shyer side but always worrying about his well-being, making sure he’s taken breaks and to enjoy himself between his duties.

You were still a little rambunctious as lately you seem at odds with Ace as you’re quick to smack and silence the mischievous redhead who seems to snicker more often than usual as of late. 

Frankly, you left him stunned, his face similar to a deer in headlights. No textbook or lecture has prepared him to reply back to your sincere confession. 

In the end, he rejected you while giving his full honesty. Silly things like love and relationships were subjects he never thought to consider in depth, and he wasn’t sure it was something he wanted at the moment. 

He tried to explain the best he could, but you couldn't stop the aching feeling of your heart breaking. 

The Realization

Your relationship with Riddle took a blow but it was not destroyed. Albeit some awkwardness here and there, life flows relentlessly as usual. 

But that fateful day would occasionally sneak its way into Riddle’s mind during his spare moments to himself, recalling your determined face, coupled with his memories of your beautiful, clear eyes.

Nowadays, his heart would tighten, his throat would feel dry, and his breathing would be shallower whenever his thoughts sway towards you. 

Spurred by these odd symptoms, he finally looked more into the topic of love. The more he delved into talks on relationships, seminars on emotional attraction, and even tropes from novels, the more it feels as though he’s going down a rabbit hole of new emotional discoveries. 

For a while, the Heartslabyul dorm was on edge as they feared for their necks every time their terrifying Housewarden suddenly turned franticly scarlet out of nowhere.

Alone in Riddle’s room, surrounded by articles and books littered on his once pristine desk, Riddle found his conclusion; he’s in love too

His Next Moves?

Riddle isn’t actually sure how to approach you anymore. This whole “in love” experience is all too new to him. He couldn’t bring up this embarrassing topic with any of his peers, and much less with his mother (Sevens knows he doesn’t exactly want to replicate a relationship like his parents). 

But he couldn’t handle the sudden sensations of nerves that occur every time he’s close to you. He can’t keep up constantly chastising himself internally for flinching every time he passes a tart or a teacup to you during Unbirthday parties. 

He can no longer focus during his study sessions with you as he’s now fighting with himself as he dreams to hold your free hand or to brush a stray lock of hair from your endearing face. 

Was it as difficult to deal with as it was for you? Was this the reason you decided to confess to him? But the thought of speaking to you about something so intimate invokes nerves in him that he couldn’t understand.

No, he should learn from your example. If the natural progression of his feelings should be clear communication between those involved, then he will face this challenge as confidently as he does with any other. 

Prepare yourself, the stubborn Riddle has made a goal for himself. 

“I admit my inexperience has hurt those I cherish. Next time, I will respond to your bravery in kind.” 

[miajooz]

Perv!Ellie — College Roomates (nsfw included.)

Perv!Ellie - Who had the fattest crush on you, she practically begged Admin at the college to let you two room together.

Perv!Ellie - Who snuck quick peaks whenever you were changing. Even if you were facing away from her, seeing your back made her crazy. The way the clasp of your bra pressed into your back made her feel things.

Perv!Ellie - Who thinks of you immediately whenever she hears or sees anything explicit. A sexual song? She resonates those lyrics with you. Porn? She imagines all the ways the two of you could recreate it. Somehow, everything relates to you.

Perv!Ellie - Who has stolen your underwear from your drawer. She keeps it hidden under her bed so you don’t know she took it. She often uses them to pleasure herself, she’ll grind against them when you’re not there, she imagines that it’s your fingers on her pussy — or maybe her pussy on yours.

Perv!Ellie - Who always shows you her drawings, you love them. Some of the pages she won’t show you, though. Sometimes if she’s drawing on one of those pages and you’re nearby or ask to see, she will quickly close her sketchbook or try and distract you with another page. You always wonder just what the hell she could be drawing that needed so much security. Beyond your better judgment—you snooped.

╰⪼ While Ellie was out doing something, you took it upon yourself to look at the pages she was hiding. In your tanktop and pajama shorts, you lifted up her pillow and grabbed the sketchbook from under it — why would she even need to hide this? You opened the sketchbook and were met with a beautiful drawing of some kind of bird, you licked your fingers and flipped through the pages.

Hidden in the middle of the sketchbook was where you saw those hidden drawings. There were drawings of you, at first you felt really flattered, not understanding why she’d hide such gorgeous drawings. You admired how well Ellie drew faces, the facial expressions she drew were gorgeous, you cursed yourself a few moments later for admiring such a thing.

The first page was a portrait of you, it was normal enough and looked well done — you could see she put time into it. The next pages seemed to have captured a moment where you were working on an assignment, the strap of your tanktop was hanging down and made your tanktop sag, a bit of cleavage was shown — but you tried your best not to overthink it. Why would she draw you with your bra or the top of your boobs showing?

Just when you thought that was how far it would go, you were so wrong. When you flipped the page, you were flashed with a drawing of you — no — your boobs. They were so well done it was almost unsettling, but they didn’t look exactly like your boobs. This is what she imagined they looked like. There was a note on the side of the drawing that read: “I’ll re-draw this when I see them.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded, you’d never felt so embarrassed but weirdly excited in your life. You wanted to give her a more accurate view, you wanted her to draw what she saw. More so when you saw a whole pussy drawn on the page, when you saw things of you in positions you’d see in a porno. It was so thrilling but so much to process.

Perv!Ellie - Who remembered what your boobs looked like, who remembered how your pussy looked when it stretched around her fingers. When you amused her drawings and showed her what she wanted to see, she drew what she saw and showed you. She drew your wet, sopping, hole in so much raw detail it was scary.

Perv!Ellie - Who whispered filthy things into your ears as she fucked you, she was a talker during sex. She loved seeing you fall apart on her fingers or strap, she’d draw your facial expressions if she was feeling mean.

- “Keep clenching baby, just like that.”

- “You’re so much better than I imagined. Do you know how long I’ve been picturing you rocking on my fingers.”

- “Oh, say my name again. I wanna hear you say my name like that again.”

- “You’ve been wanting me to fuck you, I can tell.”

Perv!Ellie - Who gets stoned with you any chance she can get. Despite her perversions, she genuinely likes spending time with you. You sit in the car together, smoking with the trunk open. You sit there for hours and just talk and laugh together, you talk about anything and everything. There was a genuine connection between the two of you and anyone could see it.

Perv!Ellie - Who gets jealous when you’re at a college party together and you talk to somebody else. She can’t stand the sight of you with somebody else, not after everything. If you looked to close to somebody, she’d pull you into the bathroom or a spare bedroom and fuck the daylights out of you. Just so you could be reminded why you loved her so much, or maybe it reassured her when she heard you moan her name like that or the expressions on your face that showed how good she made you feel. Ellie liked to know.

Perv!Ellie - Who touches herself just from the smell of you. If she didn’t have your underwear in her hands, she’d take one of your shirts and smell it, that was enough to get her off. She’d muffle her pants into it, inhaling the scent deeply. When she was done, she’d put it back like nothing happened. She always felt a bit amused when she’d see you wearing it the next day.

I hope you enjoyed this!! If you have any recs please feel free to tell me! <33

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

[thecheshireprincess]

The Game Itself

Chapter VI: Does This Place Change People?

A Chishiya x childhood best friend reader (Niragi's sister!) AU Series

Content Warning: Canon-typical violence, killing, mentions of blood and injuries, curse words, mentions and reminders of an abusive father/childhood, Niragi is an absolute problem in this one

Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter

Isn't it intriguing how quickly your mind can change about a person? Just yesterday you had thought that Takeru might not be as bad as you'd originally thought, having left your shopping expedition with him feeling even kind of fond of him.

And that still may be true for Takeru, if he even existed in his true form anymore. But you can be certain that Hatter really was as bad as you'd thought, after all. Maybe even worse.

You are absolutely seething. Agitation courses thickly through your veins, jaw clenching so tightly your facial muscles were at risk of snapping. You had been crystal clear about your boundaries; about the one singular rule you had when agreeing to join The Beach. We don't play games together. Hatter had carelessly cast this rule to the side, assigning you and Aguni to the same playing group as Chishiya tonight. And for what? What benefit was it to him to put the two of you together against your wishes?

You huff in irritation, anxiously wringing your hands and softly rocking backward on your heels. Trying anything to release the dark energy that was building under the surface of your skin without drawing attention to yourself. Chishiya stood silently, clearly unbothered by the situation, as always. His steady hands busied themselves with a pair of headphones he had found and fixed earlier in the week. Though his non-chalance should have calmed you, it only served to fan the flames of your frustration further. You want to shake his shoulders and ask why the fuck - how the fuck - he acted so emotionless all the time; you want to force a reaction from him.

Aguni stood across the dimly lit lobby from you with a militant he'd selected from his ever-growing pack. The man had unruly black hair only partially tamed by a bandana and was dressed in all denim. You knew he thought he was cool. You glared daggers into Aguni for good measure, if only for his association with Hatter. If the man noticed your wrathful gaze, he didn't show it - relaxing back against the wall, eyes lazily studying the cracked ceiling. Bored. You're really quite on edge today, you notice, finding a reason to be upset with absolutely everyone. Probably because your brother had murdered someone last night in cold blood, and you felt guilty for it.

Before you can grind your teeth into dust as a result of the emotions thundering around you, you're distracted by two guys entering the lobby. The scrawnier of the two has shaggy brown hair; the other blonde, an orange Hawaiian shirt draped over his thin but muscular build. It was obvious they weren't new to playing these games because they snatched up their phones without question and settled into an empty space to wait with the rest of you.

The shaggy haired guy speaks in a low voice to his friend, "Look how many people are here! Do you think one of them is a doctor?" Your eyes snap to his face at this, instinctively moving closer. Why did they need a doctor? Should you help?

Chishiya drags you back to stand slightly behind him, lifting your hood over your head as a reminder to keep it reigned in. Emotionless, remember? "Don't even think about it," he murmurs, not even looking up at you. After a moment of silence, he hands you one of the headphones he had been fidgeting with previously.

The gesture makes you chuckle a little bit, realizing how normal this interaction is; how you had previously taken soft moments like this for granted. You could almost imagine the two of you waiting at the train station instead, heading off to class or the library. Maybe even shopping if it was the weekend. You suddenly miss the mundane aspects of your life before, where the most you had to worry about was passing your physiology exams. And being comforted by your brother when you nearly failed. The memory of that day, only a few weeks ago, pressed itself in your mind and made your heart squeeze in melancholy. Remembering how Niragi had babied you that day, trying to press his hand against your forehead when he thought you were sick. And how you'd pushed him away.

Now that that version of your brother was gone and may never return again, you wish you had let him stay close for a just little bit longer.

You sigh dejectedly, tentatively laying your head against Chishiya's shoulder while you continue waiting for the game to start. You expect your friend to tense up, or maybe even push your head off of him - he's never really cared for public displays of affection. Never really had any reason to. And that was even when it was more platonic between you than you suspected it had become. What exactly was going on between the two of you, anyway?

You're amazed when he doesn't move an inch, not reacting in any discernable way. You're even more amazed when the man silently reaches his right hand to take your left one in his, soothingly running his cool thumb over your knuckles.

It's a rare moment of peace you're afforded with your friend in this place, and you're grateful for it. Your tired eyes flutter closed, allowing the soft rhythm of the song you know Chishiya has chosen specifically for you to wash over your entire being, transporting you from this place, if only for a moment.

You drift in an ethereal space, cultivated by the breathtaking lyrics and gentle melody of your favorite song. Though your friend hadn't necessarily intended for you to hear what he said early this morning while you were drifting back off to sleep, you had.

Don't give up on him yet, Koko. Just keep playing the game, and we'll be home soon enough.

You weren't sure what to make of what he said, and it honestly gave you more questions than answers. So it was a game that Niragi was playing, and somehow he must have dragged Chishiya into it. That could explain the tension between the two of them, because you knew your friend would be uncomfortable hiding anything from you. But it felt like more than that.

Your relationship with Niragi was definitely questionable at this point in the game, but you trusted Chishiya with your entire life, your entire heart. He'd never do anything to betray that, right?

[Registration is Now Closed] Your eyes blink open, marking the end of your tranquil moment. You stand up straight, stretching your neck out slightly as the cheerful voice you hadn't missed the last couple of days rings out around you. Chishiya wraps the headphones up, sticking them safely in his pants pocket. The man then kneels to pick up his newest invention from where it lay on the concrete floor, charging. You hadn't asked about it, you honestly didn't really want to know.

Another player, one wearing a blue ballcap and acting flighty, frantically starts asking the two guys from before what's going on. He is obviously a new arrival in this world, about to play his very first game. Your condolences. You find it strange how you've been here so long and there are still new people starting their journey here every night.

You hear the shaggy haired guy - the one who had been asking for a doctor - start to tell him about the game you'd soon be playing, only to be cut off by his friend. You understood, Chishiya had done the same to you in your very first game. Don't react to the others, they could hold us back.

[Difficulty: Five of Spades] Relief floods your body, at least it isn't a Hearts game. A fit girl with a bob cut starts stretching her legs out on the floor where she had once been standing. Not a bad idea.

[Game: Game of Tag] Sharing a quick glance with your friend, you wonder how a simple game of tag could earn a rank five. And who would be the tagger? You hoped it wasn't another game of player vs. player like your second game had been - what if you and Chishiya had to play against each other? This was why you didn't want to do this!

[Rule: Run away from the Tagger.] Simple.

[Clear Condition: Discover the safezone hidden in one of the building rooms within the time limit. You clear the game when this objective is fulfilled.] A little more challenging, but still simple.

[Time Limit: Twenty Minutes]

[Game Over: After twenty minutes has passed, a time bomb hidden in the building will explode.] A time bomb? Fuck.

You scan the room briefly, the large group of players who had previously been chattering amongst themselves had now fallen stoically silent. With just twenty minutes to stop a time bomb and hide from the Tagger, everyone seemed to realize that this might be a little more on the challenging side. Especially housed in such a sprawling building.

Chishiya interlaces his fingers with yours once more, pulling you gently in the direction of the centrally located elevator. No time to lose, you need to choose a starting position with only two minutes until the Tagger is on the move. The rest of the group seems to be kickstarted by your motion, players anxiously scattering and yelling amongst each other to figure out where to go.

"Where are we going?" You decide to ask your friend, watching as the elevator slowly rises upward, the red number shining above you getting higher.

"To the perfect vantage point, of course. We get to choose our starting position, so the best course of action is to get to the highest place to see everything happening below us." As always, you're glad Chishiya is on your side and not your enemy.

When the dusty elevator chimes at floor seven, the top floor, Chishiya leads you out to the far corner of the concrete banister to look out over the apartment building. A cool gust of air brushes along your exposed cheeks, causing a chill to run down your spine and making your body shiver. Chishiya steals a glance at you, suddenly pulling you closer to him to help block the chill in the night air. He pulls your back to be flush against his chest and cages his arms gently around you; one hand settling at your hip and the other resting easily on the wall on front of you. He looks down at you, you tilting your head a bit to meet his gaze. "Better?" he hums in question.

Your lips quirk up in a smirk. "Much better," you whisper. You wonder briefly how inappropriate it would be to suddenly kiss your best friend in the middle of a death game, but you miss your opportunity once again. Chishiya's gaze is pulled from you to someone across the building - Aguni and his militant partner.

The blonde waves empathically, almost making you laugh at how uncharacteristic it is, only to be met with a stone cold stare from the muscular man.

"What? That's nasty!" Chishiya remarks, causing you to snort. You grin at Aguni, giving a small wave of your own. Aguni smiles slightly back then winks at you, before turning on his heel and heading back towards the central staircase.

Chishiya sucks in a breath and instinctively pulls you closer, causing you to let out a full laugh this time. "Jealous again, are we?" You tease with a lilt in your tone. The man simply grumbles incoherently, shifting both hands to hold your hips now. Possessively.

You lean your head back against Chishiya, head pressed into the crevice between his neck and shoulder. You feel the way his breath catches and heart pounds against his pulse point - so maybe he's not so emotionless after all. THIS you could work with, this got you feeling a little excited.

Obviously trying to distract himself, your friend remarks with a smirk, "Let's see. . . everyone looks like they're about to die, as usual." The corner of your lips tilt slightly, "Oh come on, give them a chance." You both study the playing field in a comfortable silence for a few beats, quietly making bets in your heads on who would be making it out of the arena.

[The Tagger is on the move] the robotic voice informs you, accompanied by an obnoxious fanfare blasting throughout the arena. Game time.

You lean forward again, still tangled safely in Chishiya's arms, his touch helping to ground you and keep you calm. You had to say, you were kind of enjoying playing this game with him, now that you knew you could both survive it.

You inspect the people running through the apartment complex, feet pounding loudly against the cement flooring. Most of them were panicking already. No clear sign of the Tagger yet. The tension around the complex is buzzing like an electric field; you were just waiting for the first person to get electrocuted.

You don't have to wait for long, because suddenly a round of gunshots echo out across the concrete, startling you back from the railing and further into the blonde's arms. He wraps both arms tightly around you, squeezing you tight as he looks for the source of the gunshots. Being tagged in this game evidently equated to being shot to death. Brutal.

The two guys from the lobby burst into the hallway of the third floor, a massive horse masked figure following them slowly, but menancingly. The Tagger. You felt your heart stop briefly - now that's a terrifying sight. They are smart enough to hide in a doorway outside of his vision, allowing them to escape with their lives for now; the Tagger moving back towards the stairs to find more victims.

You watch in horror as the sketchy guy who had been with the boys at the start of the game runs screaming down the hallway on the first floor, bullets being pelted into his back. The Tagger had found him. Another man, witnesses this and gives up immediately, exiting the boundary of the game arena and being greeted by the red laser from the sky.

Your eye twiches slightly and you feel kind of guilty for standing around watching, while everyone else searches for the safezone. Losing their lives. You don't dare go against Chishiya's strategy, though, the man squeezing his hand against your hip in reassurance.

You are surprised out of your skin when the shaggy haired guy suddenly appears again sprinting down one of the hallways, shouting at the top of his lungs, "everyone! The Tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The Tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let's inform each other each other of the Tagger's location and search for the safezone together!" You watch with widened eyes, the man bravely risking giving up his location to help the others, as his blonde friend frantically tries to silence him.

Chishiya looks on, "It's a good idea, but no one will respond." You smirk, twisting in his arms to look at him, "Some people are good, Shiya. Watch." You are certain that someone will respond, they have to. You need them to, you need to continue to have hope in humanity.

"The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!" A feminine voice calls out, from a location you cannot see. Your heart soars and you grin widely at Chishiya, who glances down at you in quiet astonishment. "Really?"

The girl who had been stretching in the lobby suddenly darts down the long stretch of the building, attempting to get another player out of the area. Unfortunately, the Tagger is not far behind, and you suck in a deep breath awaiting their inevitable executions. The girl jumps up on the water spout and scales the building to get away, having to leave the other woman behind. You gasp, absolutely floored by her skill.

"Oh? A climber," Chishiya notes, a small smile gracing his face. "She's good." You continue staring, lips parted. "Amazing, actually," you breathe, stunned.

Your attention is caught by the guy in the blue baseball cap again, checking doors for the safezone. As he gets to one close to the central area of the building, bullets suddenly rain down upon him. You're surprised, unable to see the Tagger. He must be shooting from across the building at a long distance - but why would he? You think on this question for a minute or two, eyes locked on the blue metal door to the apartment. Chishiya smiles, knowing you had figured it out too.

Eventually, your friend pulls his phone from his hoodie pocket to show you the time remaining - [6:35]. He spins you delicately in his arms, removing your hood from your head and fixing your hair, "shall we begin?"

You and Chishiya approach the door, seeing the shaggy haired guy from the lobby about to twist the silvered knob. Arisu, you think you remembered hearing his friend call him when he was helping the boy in the baseball cap.

"So you realized that too?" Chishiya applauds him, tone cold and mocking.

The guy nods once, "yes. The safezone is in this apartment." He hesitates a bit, still hanging onto the door knob. Chishiya stares at him, eyes shining with a hint of amusement.

"Aren't you going to open it?" You ask him, tone as cold are you were capable of, though not necessarily mean.

"Why did the Tagger chase us?" The man muses, "They could have just waited here." You had thought that too. What if there was a trap waiting inside? But what could you really do? Time was literally ticking down.

Chishiya hums from beside you, eyes still amused, "seems like there's something else we don't know. However, if you don't open it . . . " He trails off, lifting his phone again to show timer flashing on the screen.

[03:06]

The man steels himself with another nod and opens the door, the metal groaning loudly as it swings open. The three of you peek in carefully, seeing nothing obvious awaiting you in the darkness. Arisu and Chishiya step through the door, you at their heels. You're all looking around quickly, searching for the button that will stop the time bomb from detonating and clear the game.

You hear a slight creak in the old flooring from behind you, spinning around and letting out a yelp when you see a second horse head Tagger approaching your group. Arisu pushes all three of you to the ground, Chishiya reaching out with his new contraption to shock them. You and Arisu look at Chishiya bewildered as you return to standing, him simply shrugging, "it never hurts to be prepared."

Prepared, you were not. The Tagger haphazardly rains bullets towards the three of you from the floor, Chishiya's arm finding your waist and pulling you with him back out of the front door, and Arisu proceeding forward into the other room and slamming the door. You hear bullets collide with the metal of the door in front of you as it closes; that had been a close brush with death.

Dazed, you find yourself sprawled in Chishiya's lap, both of you panting desperately for air. He leans the side of his body against the door, quickly cradling your face in his hand. He runs the other hand over your body, eyes quickly searching for injuries. Chestnut eyes suddenly wild and face contorted into an expression you didn't recognize on his face.

"Are you hurt?" He asks, though still checking over you for himself. You shake your head, mind still reeling. "Good," he says with more emotion than you think you've ever heard from him. He pulls you closer to him, arm looped around your shoulder and kisses your forehead, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you both stand back up.

You peek at Chishiya from your peripheral vision, wondering what that had been about. Though he has since returned a neutral look to his face, you quickly realize that the unrecognizable emotion in him had been fear. Fear for you. You had never seen Chishiya be afraid, not of anything. This causes your heart to race a little faster, you needed to clear this game.

It's then that Arisu's voice calls out, "Someone please come over! The safezone is in apartment 406! It's impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!"

"Seriously?" Chishiya sighs, and you instinctively try to open the door again, but Chishiya holds you back. Glaring at him, he relents, "we have to time it right. There's still a Tagger in there with a loaded gun. We have to be strategic about it." The two of you wait for a moment, straining your ears to hear what's happening inside the room. Once it sounds like the Tagger has gotten into the second room with the man, you enter quietly, ready to strike.

The climber girl simultaneously busts through the window to help Arisu, "You called?" she asks. Arisu continues struggling with the Tagger, and Chishiya tosses the taser to the girl. She moves swiftly, pressing it into their leg and knocking them to the floor once more. You move into the second room now, kicking the gun out of the Tagger's grasp. You hold your breath as the couple leaps towards the buttons situated on either side of the room, hitting them just in time.

[Game Clear - Congratulations] You glance down at your phone in shock, reading the time remaining - 00:01. You had cut this one way too close. You loudly exhale the breath you'd been holding, shoulders sinking as you release some of the tension.

Another phone in the room chimes, signaling a Game Over. You spin around to the Tagger, who was now slumped against the wall, horse mask discarded on the floor. You find yourself kneeling down towards her, revealed to be a normal looking woman, someone who was eerily familiar. You know those brown orbs, you'd recognize them anywhere. Even when they stared back at you in terror, defeated. Your own eyes widen at the magnitude of your realization. Himari. Your neighbor is here, had been forced to play these games just like you, but on the opposite side.

"Himari, you're a player too," you whisper to the older lady, the collar you'd just noticed clasped restrictively around her neck suddenly beeping rapidly. You feel your breath catch in your chest, the familiar lump in your throat forming once again.

"No, no, no, no!" you shout in distress, eyes crazed and hands flexing and un-flexing. Trying to figure out a solution quickly. What could you do? The woman who had always been kind to you simply says your name, "keep winning."

The obnoxious beeping gets faster still, before finally detonating. You jump back as the poor woman's blood splashes everywhere, coating the previously white wall, Chishiya who was standing in the doorway, and you. You allow yourself to fall backwards onto the cold, hard floor absolutely shocked and shaking.

Arisu and the climber girl that had been standing behind you watching the exchange slowly approach, concern etched on their faces. "Are you okay?" The man asks slowly, holding a shaking hand out to you. You can't bring yourself to react.

"She's fine, you can leave now," Chishiya tells them coldly, coming to stand protectively over you, latching onto the hood of your jacket. You weren't sure if that action was to comfort you or him. You don't move, still staring, eyes unfocused at the gruesome scene before you. She had been a player too. Are all the dealers of the games just like you? Fighting for their lives? Who would take care of Himari's cats?

The two leave the apartment, though hesitantly. You were grateful because you didn't feel like socializing at this point, covered in someone else's blood. Someone that you had a hand in killing. Someone who you had known for years. Had shared cookies and tea with.

Chishiya kneels down next to you, one hand resting on your knee comfortingly. He begins checking the pockets of the camo tactical suit Himari was wearing with his free hand. You wanted to be aghast by his actions, but it was probably smart. You needed to know everything you possibly could about this place, and a game dealer might have valuable intel.

He finds a crumpled piece of white paper with a circle and several squiggles. What could those markings even mean? A map? Chishiya holds it up in front of both of you for a moment before tucking it away into his pocket.

He turns to you, attempting to wipe some of the blood from your face with his sleeve. He sighs when it presumably makes it worse, instead taking your hands and pulling you up with him. He must see your usual signs of crying, because he shushes you, "Not now. Not here, okay?" Cry later, we need to get back to The Beach.

Chishiya leads you into the elevator and presses the button to return to the lobby. You lay your head against the shiny surface of the wall, completely numb and unable to hold yourself up any longer. The cold press of the metal barely registers in your mind, as you allow yourself to drown in the shock of watching Himari die in front of you, her blood coating your skin.

The two of you exit the elevator when it chimes too cheerfully for your liking, re-entering the lobby where you had waited anxiously just half an hour ago. How quickly things can change. Your eyes find the Five of Spades card set mockingly on the table where the phones had been set up earlier. You snap it up into your blood soaked hands, annoyed that you'd once again be handing a bloodied card to Hatter.

Aguni catches up to the two of you outside the apartment, his partner nowhere in sight. Another casualty, you presume. You don't look up at him, and he doesn't say anything to either of you. He gets into the driver's seat of the car, looking only mildly surprised when you fall into the backseat beside Chishiya instead of sitting in the front with him. You're so tired. So cold. So numb.

You sit upright, face forward, body shaking. You will yourself not to freak out right now. But Himari's face was permanently etched in your mind's eye. It was all you could see, especially when you closed your eyes.

"Are you okay, little one?" Aguni asks, looking at you through the rear view mirror, concern etched on his features. You briefly realize that he's been injured too - a gash across his eye from some kind of knife? You couldn't lie, it would leave a badass scar one day.

You attempt to hum as an answer to his question, but it comes out more like a whimper. His question, so soft and sweet struck you to your core. You were not alright. You allow your body to slump down in silence, head falling into Chishiya's lap, face still forward and staring blankly at the old leather seat in front of you.

He clicks his tongue, brushing your hair from your face carefully, comfortingly. No one says anything as you drive home through the cold night air.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

When you enter the conference room that you love to hate to find Hatter, you still say nothing. The man looks up at your group expectantly and you place the card down in front of him, tapping it with a bloodied index finger as punctuation. His face lights up to see it isn't a duplicate, and you step away from the table allowing him to see Chishiya and Aguni behind you.

"And what about Riku, Aguni?" Hatter asks distractedly, twirling the card in his long fingers. You are certain he doesn't really care, it honestly comes out as more of a taunt. Aguni straightens a little, "a casualty." You hum internally, the denim-clad guy's name was Riku and he definitely died during tag.

Hatter nods knowingly, "That's too bad," he mumbles, "I know you liked him. Guess you'll have to find a replacement now." Aguni simply nods once, not giving anyone much to work with.

You hadn't noticed initially in your haze, but Ann is also sitting at the table, studying you carefully. As you attempt to retreat, she calls your name, "are you hurt? Can I help you?" It's a genuine and sweet offer. But you can't handle sweetness right now. Not when you'd just watched your neighbor explode in front of you, her blood now drying on your features.

"It's not mine," you say frostily, "just leave me alone." And despite everyone's shock at The Beach Princess turning into an ice queen suddenly, they do leave you alone. You turn on your heel and walk swiftly from the room, Chishiya at your heels.

You find yourself sat in front of the vanity in your bathroom, now wet hair dripping occasionally down your shoulders. Chishiya is behind you, working your brush delicately through the strands. Your silence somehow made Chishiya the talkative one, saying everything and nothing all at once. Attempting to bring you back to yourself. To distract you from the death of Himari and the cold realization that you weren't just playing for your lives. You were playing for your lives at the expense of someone else's.

You hear the soft click of the outer door to your hotel room opening, not bothering to react. It's probably just Kuina returning from her game and coming to check on you. More than likely, the entire Beach was aware that you'd returned from your game soaked in blood and acting weird. You're certain they'll all be talking about you soon enough; word travels fast around here.

You continue to stare blankly at your tired eyes in the mirror when a surprising figure joins you in the bathroom. In your current state, you don't bother to look up at your brother who was studying your appearance in the mirror.

"I heard you returned to The Beach coated in blood," the man starts, taking the brush from Chishiya's hands. Aguni must have gone to him.

"It wasn't mine," you spit, more venomously than you've ever dared to speak to him, "besides, I wasn't aware that you still cared." If Niragi is surprised by your attitude, he doesn't show it, and he doesn't correct you either, still gently - more gentle than you've seen this Niragi act - brushing through your hair.

"I do care, as a matter of fact," he clicks his tongue, "but somehow you seem to not realize just how precarious of a position we are all in." His voice is low, measured; as though he is at war with himself to not say the wrong thing. As if it would be easier for him to not be speaking with you at all. And maybe that's true.

You look incredulously at your brother through the mirror now, "yes and whose fault is it that we were brought here, Niragi?! You forced us to come here, forced the others to hunt us down for you. And for what? To be treated like shit and ignored and, and whatever you've done to Chishiya! You've quietly dictated my every move here, not telling me the rules to the game that you are playing and it isn't fair. Do you even understand how scared I am? You're a horrible brother for this." You finally tell him what you really think. How you really feel.

You probably should have left at least that last part unsaid, because Niragi does react now, sharply grabbing ahold of your jaw and forcing your gaze to meet his in the mirror. He brings his face down right beside your ear, "Enough," he growls dangerously. A tone that feels sickeningly familiar, yet strange coming from him all at once.

Your brother snarls your full name for the first time probably ever, "You have no idea what's going on here, no idea how dangerous our position is. I can't have you compromising things - do not come back to The Beach looking weak and terrified again. You need to be acting like you are at the top of the food chain, I have worked hard to ensure your position there. Do you hear me?"

You look at him with confused eyes. You don't understand any of this, not even for a second. He pauses, focusing on a knot in your hair, still, despite his cruel words and angry demeanor, attempting to be gentle.

"I don't want Aguni coming to me again telling me that you're falling the fuck apart. Even if you are physically falling apart, you keep it together," he commands, voice leaving no room for you to argue. Niragi snaps his head to Chishiya then, "And you are supposed to be ensuring that she does." Your friend just blinks slowly at your brother, the two suddenly engaged in a silent standoff.

You break their tension with your quiet voice, "But I trust Aguni." Your brother scoffs, eyes shining in amusement, "Oh you trust him, do you? That's sweet." He rolls his eyes, mocking you. "Well I fucking don't! Why do you think that Chishiya was at your game with you tonight? Because I made it so! You will be playing with one of us from now on, sweetheart."

You stared, mouth agape at the man standing behind you. And so it had been Niragi that had carelessly disregarded your only rule. He had crossed a clearly set boundary and shattered your trust. Looking carefully at his reflection, you barely recognized him as the man you'd always known. Everything about him was different, from his cold, blackened eyes to the way he carried himself, more cocky now. He'd even pierced his tongue, a thought that made you shiver in disgust. You didn't know this person, and now you weren't sure you could even trust him.

Chishiya stayed locked in on your hair, jaw clenched tightly. His fingers silently braided the right side of your still damp locks, Niragi focusing on the left. You looked to him for help a couple of times but noticed that he wouldn't meet your gaze.

When the boys were finished with your hair, you rise from the stool you'd been perched on heading straight to the bed. You weren't a fan of the tension in the room, and a part of you wished for Niragi to leave so Chishiya could relax. So you could relax? But the bigger part of you has to know, if you ask your brother to stay, will he? Niragi always stays.

You slide your body under the still way too scratchy blankets, in the bed that was still way too hard for your liking, pressing your tired head into the pillow. Chishiya comes to sit on his side of the bed, making no move to actually go to sleep, nor look at either of you. Just staring at the pattern on the comforter that always seemed to be more interesting than anything else to him.

Your thoughts are swirling, and your heart can't get past it. You need to tell Niragi what happened or it will haunt you forever. It probably would anyway. You feel your eyes filling with tears, biting your cheek and looking down at your still shaky hands, "Himari was one of the game dealers tonight. A collar around her neck exploded when we cleared the game, it was her blood on me."

You see Niragi's eyes soften slightly, the man letting out a slow breath through his lips. He knew that you were close with Himari, that this would be difficult to get past. He approaches the bed hesitantly, holding something you hadn't noticed before. When he drops the soft, folded article in your lap, you get a scent of nostalgia. Of home. "Thought this might help," he says quietly, still measured. Unsure.

You look down, unwrapping it to find it was your favorite blanket from home. The blanket that your brother had always wrapped you up in in the aftermath, snuggling you close. The blanket that had been your mother's. Niragi had brought it here for you.

You stare down at it, eyes shining. You hold the worn, silky material between your fingertips, the texture alone soothing you. You smile lightly up at your brother, "Thank you."

Niragi nods simply and then turns to reunite himself with his rifle, his absolute pride and joy. He must have leaned up beside the door when he entered the room; how thoughtful of him to not wave it around in your face in the bathroom.

You can see that Niragi is trying to leave, back facing you and approaching the door. You sit up again slowly to look at him, you had to know. "Niragi?" You say tentatively, not unlike a younger version of yourself, "Stay?"

You see him freeze, his entire body tense, before he lets out another heavy sigh and turns back around. Taking slow, uncertain steps toward you again, you hold your breath. The man drags the puffy red armchair from the corner of the room to sit next to your side of the bed, flopping his body into it. You get a good look at him now, the man is exhausted.

This wasn't exactly what you'd had in mind when you asked him to stay, but it was something. He was giving you just enough to keep you from breaking entirely.

Niragi turns the lamp off, not unlike that very first night you'd spent here. The night you barely remembered through your fevered state and agonizing pain in your side. Oh how you hoped to never have to feel like that again. But in this place? You knew it was only a matter of time.

You try to allow sleep to overtake you, focusing hard on the loud rumbling of the air conditioner. That thing was on its last leg, and working way too hard to cool the air around you. The minutes tick past, but every time you close your eyes you can see Himari looking at you in fear, you hear her last words to you, you feel her blood spattering messily over your skin. Keep winning. Without realizing it, your cheeks are wet with tears, silent sobs escaping your body.

Your brother isn't easily fooled, even in this form and even in the dark, of course he knows you're crying. You try to stay quiet, not really wanting to be yelled at again. You probably should have let him leave when he wanted to, Chishiya would have let you cry openly. But you had to know, had to test that you still had a piece of the Niragi that you knew.

Surprisingly, Niragi finds the blanket he had just given you, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders, swaddling you the way he used to. He then reaches his hand out to find yours in the dark, squeezing it gently but firmly, "go to sleep, I'm here." You wrap both hands around the one he has offered you, holding on for dear life. You feel your body finally start to relax, peacefully finding slumber now.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

The sun is high in the sky by the time you finally wake up, light filtering in through the ratty curtains that you wanted to rip down and burn. You could hear Chishiya quietly tinkering with something - the man had probably been awake for hours by now. If he had even gone to sleep at all. Of course, Niragi was nowhere to be seen, the chair he had sat on pushed back into the corner. He had probably left you as soon as your breathing evened out.

The door creaks open, causing you to sleepily sit up, blankets pooling around your waist. An excited squeal - Kuina walks in, grinning at your still zombified state. "You're finally awake, I'm so excited! I brought you back a present from my game last night!" She holds up an emerald green bikini triumphantly, "isn't it adorable, and so you?!" She squeals again. "I knew it would bring out those gorgeous, sparkling eyes of yours," she gushes.

You can't help but smile as you sit up, taking the soft crocheted fabric between your fingers, studying it. "I love it, thank you," you murmur. You really had never had a girl friend like her, and the feeling of receiving this gift was unfamiliar territory. You liked it, wanted to keep Kuina around forever. You just hoped that was possible.

"I felt bad about the red one," the girl says sheepishly, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck. Chishiya snorts at this, finally turning around from what he was working on to take in your tired appearance and see what Kuina brought you. In all the excitement, you had very nearly forgotten what had happened a few nights ago.

You pout jokingly, but hold it up to your friend proudly, "Look, Shiya!" The corners of his mouth twitch up and he blinks slowly at you, "Very cute." You feel your face turn a slight shade of crimson at this comment, looking down at your lap flustered. Kuina takes notice and glances rapidly between the two of you with raised eyebrows.

"Ooookay, love birds!" Kuina says, breaking the quiet tension, "Get up and get ready now! We're going to spend the whole day together." She claps her hands together animatedly. You chuckle a little bit, nodding in agreement. It would be nice to spend more time with Kuina and be out of the room. You knew that her energy would rejuvenate you, washing the bad feelings from last night away.

A sharp knock comes at the door, just as you're coming out of the bathroom dressed in a lavendar polka dotted bikini for your day with Kuina. All three of you exchange a look, not expecting a visitor that was outside of your small group. You pull the door open toward you somewhat nervously, but are pleasantly surprised to find Aguni waiting there patiently.

The muscular man says your name and then continues, "You're with me today, come along. We're going out." Your eyes brighten in exhilaration - you were leaving the resort to look for resources. You could probably even find more stuff for your project too! You loved getting to leave the prison-like walls of The Beach for things other than games.

Nodding, "I'll be ready in just a minute!" You rush back towards the bathroom to pull on a pair of high waisted denim shorts. You didn't really want to walk around outside of the resort without covering up a little more. Your mind races back to your brother for a moment, hadn't he insinuated that you weren't to be alone with Aguni anymore? Maybe he had changed his mind. Or maybe, what Niragi doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Oh, and Chishiya you're with Niragi," the man adds, causing the blonde to sit up rigidly. He huffs in irritation, uncharacteristically slamming his newest project down roughly. As you pass, you grab his hand and squeeze, attempting to offer some comfort. Chishiya takes the opportunity to wrap his lithe fingers around your wrist and pulls you back into him whispering, "Remember what we talked about last night. I doubt that you're supposed to be with Aguni today so be discreet." You feel a chill run down your spine, but nod anyway. He had put your exact thoughts into words.

You offer Kuina an apologetic look on your way out the door, promising to catch up with her as soon as you were done with your errands. You really did want to spend more time with her.

You find yourself mapping an unfamiliar ward with Aguni, kicking small pieces of gravel along in front of you for entertainment. It was an area not unlike Shibuya Station, filled with abandoned shops and even an outdoor market. In your old life, you would have skipped through the brightly colored stalls, soaking in the delicious scents and sounds without a care in the world. Would you ever get that back?

Aguni is always a quiet presence, though one that was somehow very comforting to you. You were having a hard time understanding why Niragi no longer trusted him, having originally assigned the man to you himself. As you shuffled along the vine and moss covered streets, you couldn't help but feel like something was bothering the man beside you. This wasn't his usual brand of quietness.

The man sighs suddenly, stopping in his tracks. You glance back at him curiously, something is definitely upsetting him. He's looking down at the ground, but you notice a vulnerable look etching his features. You bring your left hand to fidget with your earring anxiously, his energy starting to constrict its way around you like a snake and making you nervous.

His eyes find yours once more and he says your name quietly. "Can I talk to you about something private?" He asks, shocking you. You had never expected to have a heart-to-heart with the ex-SDF officer. You nod, approaching him slowly as if moving too quickly would frighten him off like a wild deer.

He cuts right to the chase, "Do you think this place changes people?" You tilt your head, trying to understand his question. Does this place change people? You had certainly seen a change in Niragi, even a small one in Chishiya; though you expected that had a lot to do with Niragi too. Then there was the change in you, as well. The darkness.

You nod again slowly, now picking at your fingernails. You'd have to see if Kuina could paint your nails for you later. "I think . . . this place has a way of bringing out the worst in us. Of dragging us so deeply into despair and draining us of hope, that we resort to using the darkest parts of our souls that would not normally see the light of day." You look down to study the greenery below your feet, hoping Aguni didn't notice that you were talking about yourself too. This place hadn't grown the darkness, it had always been there. It just cultivated it, allowed it to take root in your soul and grow if you allowed it.

Aguni looks astonished at your wisdom for a moment, but hums in agreement. "It's just that . . ." he trails off, "I'm worried about Takeru. I know that you've seen him in his normal state - that he was vulnerable with you. This persona . . . it's taking him over. Making him crazy. The Beach, the power. It's making him crazy." Your breath catches in your throat, so your hunch had been correct. Everyone was playing a game that no one else understood.

You don't know what to say, was there even anything to be said? You simply nod sadly, understanding exactly what Aguni was going through. Because you were going through it too, weren't you? Niragi.

The man says your name again, this time carefully, measured how Niragi's had been last night, "You're smart. I know that you're aware of how dangerous this place is, how thin and perilous our positions are. Things are changing, rapidly." He pauses for a moment to glance around, as if there could be people listening. He sighs tiredly, lowering his voice a bit, "This might be the last time I can be around you without compromising your safety, so I want to warn you now. There will be a power struggle at The Beach very soon. Do your best not to get caught up in it."

Your heart is in your throat, and now you are scared. This is way more information than you can digest, and you don't know how to handle the thought that you might not get to be around Aguni anymore. Plus, a power struggle at The Beach? What could that even mean? Instead of asking questions, you reach your arms around him to hug him, "thank you for protecting me for so long, and for being a friend to me." He hugs you back, squeezing once before deciding it's time to get a move on. You still have errands to complete, after all.

There was not one, but TWO convenience stores left in this ward still completely untouched by other players. The two of you gather as much of the canned goods and non-perishables as you can fit in the car, marking the stores on your map as ones that still have a lot of resources for whichever Executives would be doing next food restock expedition.

You silently hoped it would be you, because there were a bunch of stores in the district that looked like they would have great stuff for continuing to re-decorate the resort. You wanted to spend hours combing this place, but the man alongside you seemed antsy to get back to The Beach for whatever reason. After some tactful doe-eyed pleading, Aguni conceded in letting you check out just one shop - one that housed tons of colorful, sprawling faux plants. You really wanted to add some greenery to the lobby and conference room spaces, insisting this was an absolute necessity today.

Aguni taps his foot, almost anxiously as he waits for you to choose some pieces. Finally he says, "Don't take too long, I need to get you back to The Beach and return you to Ann. You were supposed to be with her today, and I expect your brother won't be happy that I've stolen you." Your eyebrows shoot up, head whipping to lock your gaze on the man, "What?" He looks sheepish, an odd look on his normally stone cold face, "I had to see you one more time. I needed to make sure you would be okay."

So Niragi didn't know, and you were supposed to be with Ann right now. Aguni had taken Ann's place on this trip to make sure you would be okay with the events that were threatening to brew in the future. Your brain was working in overdrive to put pieces of this massive puzzle together, trying to figure out who was trustworthy to you. Could you trust anyone? Could you even trust yourself?

The car ride back to the resort is quiet, filled with an electrified tension not unlike the one you usually felt in a game arena. You knew that once you stepped out of this car, you and Aguni would be playing two opposite ends of a game that you still didn't understand, and that frightened you. How could you survive in this place without trusted allies?

Through the side mirror, you see Ann approaching the now parked car to take over the duty of carrying things inside with you, and you know it's time. Aguni whispers lowly to you one last time before retreating into the building for good.

"I don't know what game your brother is playing, but should he lose himself in it like Takeru is, don't let him drown you with him."

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Several days pass without significant event. You find yourself in a comfortable routine, soaking up the presence of Chishiya and Kuina - deciding that they were the only people you could trust.

Each day, you wake up to the blonde tinkering around with scraps or pieces of broken technology that he was dead set on fixing. He allows you the space to wake up naturally, usually offering food whenever you've fully stretched and decided on what you wanted to wear for the day. After brunch, you usually have an Executive task or two to take care of - Chishiya was now your permanent partner for those things. To your chagrin, you don't get to return to the shopping district that was filled with colorful shops this week.

Afternoons and early evenings are dedicated to Kuina; sometimes playing around with makeup, doing mani/pedis together, or hanging out by the pool. Chishiya always lurks quietly in the background, never too far away. Every other night, you are forced to accompany a group to a game; Hatter has split the Executives into two groups, ensuring that The Beach collects cards as quickly as possible. Together, you and Chishiya clear two more games, a Four of Clubs and Ace of Diamonds. On the nights that you aren't playing, your friends help you realize your artistic vision for the resort, painting walls, hanging new artwork, and moving furniture around your direction. It wasn't your old life, but honestly it wasn't so bad either.

Aguni had been right, the last errand you went on with him had been the last time you saw him. You missed playing games with him and being within his soothing presence. In fact, there was a strange lack of militant presence around the resort, as Hatter had become more vicious about accusing people of being "traitors to The Beach". The militants were obviously busy doing all his dirty work - a thought that made you shiver. What horrible things was your brother being forced to do? Or even worse, was he enjoying it?

Today was already starting off differently than the previous few have - an insistent knock at your door wakes you aggressively from a deep slumber. You roll over and groan in protest, yanking a pillow over your head. The bed shifts beside you, Chishiya pushing the covers back and padding towards the door. It must be early enough that the blonde had still been sleeping too. Fuck that.

Their voices are hushed, so you don't hear who it is or what is being said, but you remain laying with your head under the pillow. Hoping like hell that whatever it was could wait a few more hours. You hear the door click shut again, holding your breath.

Your friend returns to the bed, yanking the covers off your body, "Time to get up, sleeping beauty." You cry out, the chilled air of the room hitting your skin like needles, attempting to steal the covers back from the man. "Noooooo, just five more minutes, Shiya pleaaaase," you whine. "Sorry, baby," he coos mockingly, "Executive business. Some people were caught sneaking around, and Hatter wants to "welcome" them."

You groan again, rolling onto your back and staring up at your friend with doe eyes, as though he can do anything about it. Chishiya looks at you in warning, as if daring you to try getting out of it further. Instead, you throw your body to the side, climbing slowly out of your cocoon.

A cobalt blue bikini calls to you from inside your wardrobe; you decide on that and a pretty pink beaded kimono-style cover up. You take a couple of minutes getting dressed and brushing your teeth before allowing Chishiya to pull your hair into a single French braid down your back.

You're still grumbling and rubbing sleep out of your eyes as Chishiya leads you down the hallway on your way to the conference room. You had to admit - you were excited to see it in the daylight; you and Kuina had spent hours last night while the others partied painting the walls a stunning shade of ivory and adding some green leafy foliage around the space.

Ann, Mira, and Kuzuryu stand waiting along the pocket wall that split the room in half, hiding the playing cards Mira had spray painted there at the very start of The Beach.

You and Chishiya join them just as two militant guys you don't recognize show up, carting in the two people who had supposedly been sneaking around, their heads covered with cloth bags. You look in shock at this fact, why were they being treated as war criminals? Hatter was getting just that much closer to snapping, you realized. The two are pushed into chairs, facing you. When the militants lift the material from their faces, you have to bite the inside of your cheek to hide your surprise - it was Arisu and the climber girl from your Five of Spades game. You briefly wonder what had happened to his blonde friend, and whoever they'd been trying to get medical help for. In a place like this, it's probably best not to ask.

Their eyes light up as they scan you and your friend standing beside you, but are smart enough to say nothing right now. Mira is the first to speak, "good morning!" she chirps, grinning at the couple.

Kuzuryu follows directly after, "I'm sorry that we were so rough. We heard that there were some people sneaking around the place."

Ann stalks across the room, arms crossed. Very detective-like. She does not bullshit around and simply wonders, "What are your motives?" You frown, feeling like this was more of an interrogation than a welcome, but you know better than to say anything.

Arisu swallows, taking just a moment to answer, "We heard that we'll know the answer . . . if we come here. What this game is about and where all the people who disappeared went."

Then the massive wooden doors swing open, Hatter making his grand entrance accompanied by his two muscular body guards, "Exactly! We know the answers to the questions you both have. Welcome to The Beach, the utopia." He opens his arms widely, placing himself between the two newcomers to speak directly in their ears. You feel your eye twitch at the fakeness of it all.

The man, acting once again like a cult leader, then gestures forward toward the pocket wall. "This . . . is the answer." He snaps dramatically, drinking in the power he holds over everyone in the room. His guards move forward to move the wall out of the way, presenting Arisu and his friend with the wall of playing cards for the first time.

"I'll tell you the truth. There's only one way to end this hellish nightmare," the man says, walking toward the wall, both arms reaching toward it in a grand stance. "We clear the games and collect all the playing cards."

Arisu looks astonished and confused, and honestly you don't blame him. You aren't certain that you believe a word that comes out of Hatter's mouth either. He speaks, albeit softly, "All the playing cards?"

The girl interjects, "So if you collect all of them, will the original world return?" You wished wholeheartedly for that to be the case.

Hatter turns slowly to look back at them, very serious now, "The original world will not return. Only one person can return to the original world." Yep. There it is. The thing that no one likes to address around here. You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Only one person?" Arisu clarifies, obviously horrified. As well he should be.

Hatter hums, "It's impossible for a single person to clear all the games and gather all fifty two playing cards. You can't leave this country by working alone. That's why everyone unites as one in order to let that one person leave the country. This is The Beach's objective. I've heard that the two of you possess good cards. I'll have both of you play your part and help us gather the remaining cards." Your stomach feels sick hearing Hatter's speech again after so long, and you're thankful that you hadn't had anything to eat yet today.

Arisu is akin to your own heart, you realize. Asking now something you had also wondered weeks ago, "And if we refuse?"

Hatter has sat down on the heavy wooden desk by the window that you now notice has belongings scattered across it - the pair's belongings - he grins, reaching out wildly again, "You can't reject me." He lifts a piece of scrap paper from the pile, holding it up between two of his fingers, "Your visa is expiring today." He taps the index finger of his other hand aggressively to the paper, "You have no choice but to participate in a game, don't you?" Your lips part slowly, realizing that Hatter would leave them tied up until their visas expired if they decided not to stay. They would be killed by the laser.

Arisu looks disgustedly at the man that you were also back to hating, and then back to his partner as she cuts in, "We can return if we gather all the cards. Is that really true?"

Hatter stands again, walking across the room dramatically in front of the rest of you, "I can't reveal everything yet, but I have a credible source for that information. Before both of you entered this world, we already thoroughly investigated everything about this country."

Arisu interrupts his tangent again, "You've been referring to this place as a "country"."

Hatter points at Arisu, as if proud he had caught that little detail. "The fact that we've been issued Visas means that this is a country. The people in Tokyo didn't just disappear. It's hypothesized that we've entered another country accidentally. If that's true, then there must be a way to return." You realize now that Hatter had fallen more deeply into his delusions in the last couple of days, truly believing the words that he was spewing. In fact, the country you were residing in, was now being referred to around the resort as 'Borderland' after a group of players had heard someone at a game arena call it that.

You felt a wave of relief rush across your skin when a note is brought in by Hatter's long-haired guard - the fueling team needed Executive escort to proceed with their tasks for the day. Hatter nods to him and looks to you, "Princess, take Chishiya and escort the maintenance team today, won't you? I'll take care of things here." He winks over his aviators at you. You nod, relieved to be able to leave this hostile environment before anything bad happens to these two. In case Hatter calls upon Niragi to kill them.

"Good girl," Hatter praises, making your skin bristle and causing Chishiya to stiffen slightly beside you. Jealous. You glance one final time at Arisu on your way out, willing him to make the right choice.

He didn't really have one, after all.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

You lean back with a sigh, relaxing into the plastic beach chair set in front of the glittering pool packed with bodies. The sun has all but disappeared from the sky, and the citizens of The Beach are happily drinking in the mood of twilight. That's not the only thing they're drinking in, mind you - it's early evening, and the party is absolutely raging. The music is bumping, the drinks are flowing, and the people are doing what people at The Beach do best - celebrating life. It may seem macabre, to party the days away when you're forced to face deadly games by night, but honestly it feels kind of right when you aren't really sure how much longer you have left to live. The longer you're here, the more you're understanding that.

Chishiya sits at your feet, one arm draped lazily over your bare calves and the other holding him upright on the chair. As usual, his face is devoid of any emotion, but you know he is enjoying the opportunity to people watch and get some fresh air.

You spend a few moments studying the people yourself - many splashing around drunkenly in the refreshing pool water and others dancing uninhibited around its edges, everyone looking free as can be. How must it feel to not have to worry about anyone in Borderland but yourself? How easy it must be to not have the two most important people in your life stuck here with you, wondering if today is the day they're going to die. Or the day that they finally lose themselves.

You feel the familiar tight feeling in your chest start to build, and force yourself to shake away those suffocating thoughts - you simply cannot afford to panic here. Niragi had been clear - keep it together no matter what.

You turn your attention instead to playing with the beads adorning the straps of your emerald green crochet bikini. You were finally wearing it outside of your room for the first time today. It was special to you - a gift from Kuina a few days ago. The gift made you feel loved, and the suit made you feel sexy.

Rolling the wooden beads between your fingers seemed to help settle your nerves. When your breathing finally returned to normal and the simple anxious task was no longer needed, you sigh loudly, covering your face with your arms and flopping further back into the chair. Bored.

Chishiya smirks, raising an eyebrow. The man very nearly laughs at the dramatic habit that was very you. "Bored already, hm?" He hums, "Coming down here was your idea after all."

"Yes, but I thought there would be more excitement" you whined, flailing your arms widely to accentuate your point. Chishiya sweeps his eyes over your form, looking at you with amusement.

He's about to say something more when he's interrupted by the arrival of two familiar figures - a nervous looking guy with shaggy brown hair, and a fit, muscular girl with a cute bob cut. Chishiya squeezes your calf to get your attention, flicking his eyes toward them as they sit down apprehensively on two beach chairs across the pool from you. Arisu and Usagi.

"So they decided to stay after all," you muse, sitting up in interest and folding your legs underneath you. You scoot your body closer to your friend, your thigh brushing against his, as you continue to observe the couple.

The blonde turns his head to study your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear as he does, "I can't imagine that it would have gone over well had they declined Hatter's offer." You feel a slight shiver run down your spine at Chishiya's intimate touch. You hum distractedly, still staring at the pair, but suddenly feeling very far away from the events taking place around you.

You grin brightly, then, having noticed Kuina skipping over to them. She plops, likely uninvited, down on the chair beside Arisu, her unlit cigarette hanging characteristically in her mouth. There is no doubt in your mind that she was already teasing them about the relationship between them, despite having just introduced herself.

Kuina was confident like that, and you loved that about her. Well, except for when she was teasing you and Chishiya. You blushed slightly just thinking about it, wondering when you had started becoming so flustered about your best friend. When you had started wanting so desperately to press your lips against his. You duck your head at these thoughts and pretend to study the sparkly manicure Kuina had given you last night.

How long were you and Chishiya going to continue pretending to be just friends?

Within a minute or two, the air had turned from relaxed to tense, and your neck snapped up to find out why. Your discerning eyes land on the militants, of course, you really should have guessed. The hostile and generally power hungry group of The Beach's "personal protection unit" were filing into the party, sure to flash their weapons at anyone looking. You don't think you had seen them congregated as a group like this, they really were becoming overpowered. The smart people were avoiding their gaze entirely, and the stupid (drunk?) people were openly gawking. You rolled your eyes, how typical.

Leading the charge onto the pool deck was Aguni, looking cold and calculating in a way you didn't like, with your brother following close behind. Your eyes narrowed, having not seen either of them for a few days.

"Looks like you're about to get your excitement after all," Chishiya whispered, his breath tickling your ear. You took in a sharp breath in anticipation; the full militant corp was standing at arms looking ready to fight, at the pool. Could this mean the power struggle you'd been warned about would be coming sooner than you expected? Anxiety swirled heavily in your stomach, fingers subconsciously finding the wooden beads again.

You look to Niragi, the one person who would normally soothe your frayed nerves with just a glance, but feel even worse seeing the wild look in his darkened eyes. Had your relationship truly deteriorated so much in a matter of weeks?

Being all the way on the other side of the pool from them, you're unable to hear Aguni's request, but Niragi was quick to obey. He moved towards Usagi, pulling her roughly up to her feet.

You watch with widened eyes - had Aguni asked for Usagi? What would he even want her for? Nothing good, certainly. The Aguni you knew would never want to hurt someone, or take them against their will. Had you been mistaken about him from the beginning? Or maybe this place really does create monsters out of men - you could certainly see that in the long-haired man across the pool from you, once soft and caring, now swinging a gun around without a care in the world and physically threatening a girl not much older than you. Hell, you see it even in yourself, having been happy enough to let everyone but Chishiya die from the second you landed in this wretched place and started playing.

You're shaken from your reverie when Arisu springs up from his place beside Kuina to help Usagi. You groan in despair, knowing full well that your brother would only be further provoked; Borderland-version Niragi has an extremely short fuse. Kuina also looks displeased, as though she'd literally just told them not to mess with them, which she probably had.

The people of the party are now definitely watching, but openly pretending not to be. If you didn't feel so anxious at the situation, you'd probably laugh at how nosy and indiscrete drunk people truly are.

You find yourself standing instead, ready to close the distance between your perch and where Niragi has now thrown Arisu to the ground, kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. You felt like throwing up watching the display. Memories flooded your mind of watching your father do the exact same thing to the tall man who was now delivering the blows. It was taking everything in you to not curl up in a ball crying like you always had when the two men in your family were fighting. No, this time you had to put an end to it. This time you would be brave and fight.

"You're going to try to save them, aren't you?" Chishiya mumbles in concern, knowing this scene was likely triggering to you. You knew he wanted you to stay out of it, but you just couldn't help yourself.

"I can't sit back and play victim anymore, Shiya," you whisper. You move swiftly around the pool, before you could lose your nerve or Chishiya could stop you.

"Niragi, please. They're my friends," you plead with the violent man, grabbing onto his forearm as he delivers another crushing blow to Arisu's ribcage. The people of The Beach were now actively watching the scene, fully invested in your family drama. You're unsure of why you called the couple your friends, when you just barely know their names. All you know is that you don't want to watch your brother kill the poor guy, and you definitely don't want to find out what Aguni had planned for Usagi. Or was it that you couldn't stand to see your sweet brother hurt someone the same way he had been hurt so many times in his life?

Niragi ceases his assault on the boy and rips his arm from your grasp. He gives you a full once over in the process, his cold eyes meeting yours for the first time in days. You feel real, raw fear filling your system, something you haven't felt since leaving your father's house for the last time eight years ago. You'd never felt smaller in your life than you did now, shrinking under Niragi's brutal gaze.

Taking a shaky breath, you muster the shiniest, prettiest puppy dog eyes you can, peering up at Niragi through long eyelashes. "You won't hurt them, right? I'm friends with them."

Niragi continues glaring intimidatingly down at you, in what you realize is disgust. He doesn't address your concerns, but instead has something else to say.

"Put some fucking clothes on, you look like a slut" he spits fiercely, his pierced face now just centimeters from yours. The tight feeling in your chest had returned in full force, threatening to suffocate you.

You stumbled back as if he'd struck you - Niragi had never spoken to you like that. Your stomach dropped, and it took all of your willpower to maintain your composure. You obviously couldn't cry in front of all these Beach idiots, gaping at the two of you like you were the best soap opera in Borderland. You turn your head to escape his intense gaze, and put your tongue in your cheek to keep the tears from spilling over. You want soap opera? I'll give you soap opera.

Looking back up at your brother, you cross your arms over your chest. "What are you going to do, make me?" you implore him brattily. Niragi seethed, pierced eyebrow arching, looking like he was seriously considering slapping the attitude right out of you. You stand your ground, the way you should have every other time you've faced a monster like this.

As you and Niragi stare each other down, the initial cause for your dispute long forgotten, Aguni and the others have become distracted by Hatter's arrival. One side demanding peace, and the release of the newest members of the beach; the other begging silently for chaos to ensue. The tense atmosphere surrounding you indicates the balance of power between the two leaders was indeed in jeopardy. Do your best not to get caught up in it. Sorry, Aguni.

After what feels like hours of strained silence, Aguni ultimately yields to Hatter. The Beach seems to collectively release their held breaths as Aguni and the militant corp flock away to another part of the resort. Usagi quickly tends to Arisu, leading him back into the building to treat his wounds and get to safety. Meanwhile, you have your own struggle for power going on.

Niragi still stands towering above you, obviously not in the mood for your games. He unbuttons his black and white collared shirt, draping it over your shoulders, "Go. Change. Not a request." His fingers wrap tightly around your forearm, aggressively yanking you towards the entrance to the hotel. The force that Niragi had exerted on you nearly sent you careening into the pool still glistening mockingly at your feet, but luckily Chishiya had appeared in just the right position to catch you. Unbeknownst to you, the two exchange a brief look before Niragi skulks off to find Aguni and his other lunatic friends.

The panic within you threatened once more to boil over and your brain simply shuts down - this week had been too fucking much. In your daze, you barely register Chishiya dragging you inside, away from the curious and scrutinizing glances of The Beach citizens. You were embarrassed, confused, and fucking mad.

Just as you passed through the swinging double doors and into the air-conditioned building, Kuina fell in step with you two. She let a reassuring hand fall on your shoulder, squeezing it for comfort. At her kind touch, you feel your carefully crafted resolve finally crumble to the floor. Chishiya knew immediately that you were done for, lifting you easily into his arms and allowing you to ground yourself in him. He carried you protectively the rest of the way to the room as your thoughts thundered around in your head like a wild storm.

You had been lying to yourself your whole life, Niragi had been lying to you your whole life. He promised that your family wasn't broken, that you weren't broken. You guessed it was too much to ask for you to remain untouched by your father's special brand of cruelty. That one day, you'd likely both become just like him.

And now Niragi had. He called you a slut, degrading an outfit that had made you feel beautiful. He embarrassed you in front of an audience. He grabbed you so hard you could see his fingerprints etched in your skin. He was just like him and this time you knew you wouldn't escape.

It was then that you knew - this game that you were playing was much more dangerous than you could ever have realized.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

You don't know why you'd allowed Kuina to drag you back to the pool after what had happened yesterday, after the absolute humiliation you had faced at the hands of your brother. You find yourself sitting again on a stiff, plastic beach chair between her and Usagi. "A girls' day", they had insisted.

Your body was with the girls, but your mind was tangled up elsewhere; it didn't matter what Chishiya had said. It didn't matter what Niragi himself had said. You were certain that the cracks Aguni had seen in Hatter, caused by the pressure of playing a game far too dangerous for him to win, were now appearing in your brother too.

But it was worse than that, you feared. His game was still ongoing, everyone still playing their part. But Niragi? He had lost himself. He had let his darkness in, the same darkness that you saw in yourself. The darkness that you were so afraid to succumb to, because this. This is what could happen if you let it out.

It wasn't just a game that he was playing anymore. This is who Niragi is now.

"We should get drunk," you say suddenly, surprising the women on either side of you. "Why not?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. They both looked skeptically at you, obviously thinking that alcohol was the last thing you needed right now.

You don't wait for an answer before standing and traipsing lazily over to the bar. You had to get your mind off of everything that was going on. Tatta stands behind the slab of driftwood, mixing drinks for a few others that were waiting, watching you curiously. You ignore their stares, knowing they had likely seen what happened with you and Niragi yesterday. You pull your ivory cover up more tightly around you as you wait for Tatta to approach.

He grins when he sees you, saying your name warmly, "I'm surprised to see you drinking, are you even old enough?" He asks with an eyebrow raised. You laugh, obviously not old enough, "Does it really matter here?" Tatta laughs too, shaking his head. You explain that you are getting drunk with Kuina and Usagi, having a "girls' afternoon". He nods, "I know exactly what to do for you, then," he says mischievously. You had been glad when the man from your Five of Spades game had made his way to The Beach. He really was a nice guy and a fun friend to have.

You carry three very fruity, bright pink glasses of alcohol back to your friends, remaining standing facing them as you bring all of your glasses together in a cheers. You wish briefly that you had your phone to be able to capture this moment on Instagram. You'd always wanted girl friends like this in your old life.

You take a small sip of the cocktail, the taste causing you to shiver just as a shadow is cast over your form. At first, you don't react, assuming it was just someone passing by. When both girls look up at someone, though, faces contorted in confusion, you feel a bit of anxiety fill you.

"Hello, my little butterfly," a sickly sweet voice sounds from behind you, the person standing much closer than your senses had detected. Your stomach sours immediately, your pulse entering your ears. You feel your tactile senses dull, and the martini glass slips from between your fingers, shattering on the ground at your feet.

For what must be the thousandth time since entering Borderland, you feel panic tightening your chest. There is only one person who has ever called you that, and you truly don't want to believe he is somehow right behind you. You had just begun to think that you could be okay in life without Niragi, but you knew now that you absolutely needed him. That this was not something you could handle without him.

Your father was here at The Beach.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

The Game Itself Masterlist

The Game Itself Tag List: @moonchild323232 @princesskatxo @lovelygias @carlgrimesfuturegf @audiiix @maxinehufflepuffprincess @aeristocrats @unhinged-sorcerer @potato-vagina @kimsrie @mocchii-writes @rillianeswife

Please never hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) the tag list! Also, my asks and messages are open, PLEASE reach out, I would literally die to interact with you; ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

[lovscb97]

synopsis: nerd!chan headcannons. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, fluff, meet cute, nerd!chan being in love, mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, nerd!chan being an inexperienced cutie, etc

wc: 1.48k

add. notes: while you guys wait for nerd!chan pt. 2 as i need to complete writing it and cannot really Do that w/ my current busy schedule (im nearing the end of first sem so i have lots of assignments #sad), i thought i’d treat u guys to some headcannons about him in the nerd!chan universe :3 enjoy!

part 1 / part 2 / drabble #1

. . . 

#one. meeting you for the first time

chan has always been a shy kid. he doesn’t stray from his introverted bubble of close friends that he’s either grown up with or gotten to know through extra-curriculars, nor does he ever participate in social activities like parties the way most people in his university do. it’s his firm belief that he has no means to engage in stuff that will, in his words, lower his intelligence and distract him from his studies. he’s perfectly content remaining the way he is; a social outcast (according to changbin at least), because at the least in that sense he’s gaining something from not wallowing in alcohol every other night.

you, on the other hand, are actively always taking part in gatherings as such, having fun with your cheer girls and drinking to drown out the bitter reality of life (although you’d never admit that out loud). it’s your firm belief that college is for letting loose and having fun before entering the corporate world, and what better way to do that than to grind against strangers and throw away all your responsibilities for a night (or ten)? you don’t have too much regard for your studies, but you do have a strong policy on your social life.

it’s because of these reasons that in terms of both hierarchy and hobbies, you and chan couldn’t be any more different. you’re two sides of two separate coins, and if you were to swap lifestyles, you’re sure neither of your friends would recognise you both. what he likes, you loathe, and what you like, he loathes. so why did you do mesh so well? why did you two even begin this charade? 

and how in the everloving fuck did chan even get to know you in the first place? 

it all started before the first day of the first semester. orientation was about to finish right around the corner, and everyone was obviously buzzing with excitement on commencing their first term in university. one guy made the mistake of mentioning throwing a party at some nearby club, and it quickly spread to the entire group of first year students. naturally, it spread to you and your friend group, and it also just happened to spread to the small circle of chan’s best friends, who dragged his ass to the party the day of despite his incessant complaining that he wanted nothing to do with what was happening.

that was, until he saw you.

you’d had one too many shots to drink, stumbling into the balcony after having been separated from your friends and coincidentally landing up where chan just so happened to be admiring the scenery. he’d caught you in his arms as you lost your footing, heart racing and ears reddening at the sound of your drunk giggles. “i bet you’re a ladies man.” you’d teased him, raising a finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, which only made him stutter even more. 

your friends eventually did come to find you and take you back with them, barely even batting an eye at chan who tried to make sure you were being cared for properly as his pleas and tips on handling a hangover the next day fell upon deaf ears. and when jisung and changbin came up to find him, he was completely out of it, stuck in a daze as he repeated all the random information about yourself that you’d rambled to him in his head. he’d pressed a single hand to his chest whilst ignoring his friend’s questions about what the hell he was doing, instead focusing on the feeling the rapid rhythmic beating of his heart under his palm.

it was that night, that chan's love for the moon transcended to his love for you.

#two. kissing you for the first time

chan is just as much of a nerd as they come in every cliche. 

when he met you, when he got to know you, and when he first began whatever twisted relationship he currently has with you, he was completely inexperienced. he knew next to nothing about pleasing a girl that wasn’t acquired from his knowledge of scouring the internet, and he also knew next to nothing about the world of pleasure he was in for. when you’d first leaned in to initiate a kiss, he’d merely pushed you away gently, gasping over his words as he tried to explain to you how new this was all to him.

but you didn’t mind. you didn’t mind that he’d never even gotten close to holding a girl’s hand unless he counted his elementary school crush, and you didn’t mind that he barely knew what to do with you. you didn’t mind that you had to teach him the ropes of everything (mostly because it fed into your corruption kink), and you didn’t mind it even when you had to reassure him you weren’t going to judge him as you got him to relax before leaning in once more.

and when your lips had touched his for the first time, chan swore he felt sparks fly. you were soft, and sweet, and real. instead of being a mere figment of his imagination or the skin of the back of his hand, your presence was electrifying. the way your mouth had moved against his, the way you’d let out a soft sigh at the feeling of it pressing back into him, and the way you’d pulled away and flashed him the prettiest smile he’d ever damn seen in his life before, it was all so dizzying. 

“you’re a pretty good kisser.” you’d winked at him afterwards, and he felt himself flush under your gaze which only made you double over in laughter. you’d even leaned in once more to plant another soft kiss on his lips before motioning for him to continue with whatever demand and supply topic he was teaching you about. chan didn’t give a fuck about that anymore though, the only thought on his mind the entirety of the rest of your study session how to get better at kissing you, and when he could look forward to doing it the next time.

#three. what he likes about you

if anyone asked chan what he likes about you, he’d be at a complete loss for words. not because there’s nothing he can come up with beyond superficial reasons, but because there’s too much that he has to say and isn’t sure of where to actually start.

chan isn’t even sure when he fell for you in the first place. yes, when he first met you that fated night on the balcony at that premature freshmen party he caught feelings for you, but those feelings snowballed and grew into something much larger as the days went on. each night was filled with replaying your conversation (although he barely spoke out of his shock upon seeing you) and wondering what it would be like to be in your presence once more. it got to the point that his friends began asking him why he was spacing out so much during classes and staring at one specific section of the lecture hall, but he didn’t have the courage to admit it was because of you sitting there. 

to simply put it, chan likes everything and nothing about you. he likes the fact that you’re nobody like he’s ever met before, you have a fire to yourself that nobody comes close to claiming, but you laugh sweet enough to extinguish that flame at the same time. something about you draws him in, tantalising and captivating in nature but all too consuming to the point he can’t get you out of his brain no matter how hard he tries. the time you came up to him to ask if he’d help you with tutoring, his mind almost short circuited because holy shit, were you actually talking to him in real life instead of the made up interactions he plays out with you before going to sleep? and you knew his name and who he was on top of that? it was too good of a dream to be true.

that’s precisely why chan can’t let go of you now. even if it hurts him, even if it’s painstakingly hard to be hidden from the public eye whilst being together with you, he doesn’t want to let go of you. because letting go of you entails that he’s giving up on his aspirations of being with you, and chan is nothing next to a quitter. he’ll have you in any way he can, even if that means not abiding by his friends’ requests to just let you go and being kept in the dark by your lack of confrontation for your feelings.

at the end of the day, chan is head over heels for you, and that’s something that’ll never change. 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[soapsbaby]

Bunch of Deviants II

Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader

Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)

Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation

Word Count: 1.3k-ish

Ghost - Primal

He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.

Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.

He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.

After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work

He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.

He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.

Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.

He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.

Price - Watching you Touch yourself

He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.

He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.

He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.

His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.

Gaz - Free Use

Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.

For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.

Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.

König - Thigh Riding

Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.

He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.

Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.

It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.

Graves - Pegging

It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.

Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.

You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.

Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.

Alejandro - Degradation

He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.

He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.

He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.

He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.

He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Rudy - Choking

The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.

His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.

He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.

He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.

Valeria - Strap-Ons

It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.

She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.

[rowanmutt-afterdark]

Kinktober Day 5 Medical Play (IDW Ratchet)

Word Count: 1,011

IDW Ratchet X Human Female Reader

Read more below the cut!

"Are you ready for your checkup?” Ratchet asked, walking into your assigned room. You were his first patient of the day, and though he was exhausted from a long work night, he was happy to give you a check-up. You responded with a nod. You didn't meet his optics, but you seemed OK with this.

His dermas changed into a soft smile, and his servo was placed upon your shoulder. He smiled at you as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “If you need to stop, let me know. We can stop now.” He offered to put a halt to this. You looked up at him and shook your head rapidly.

“No no! I'm ok, I promise. I'm just not used to this type of thing.” You reassured him that you did want to try this. It was just a new roleplay to spice up your love life. You trusted him and knew he was experienced.

He would never make you uncomfortable or feel unsafe.

“I'm ok to continue.” Ratchet listened to your plea, relenting with a sigh. His servo moved to your chin, holding it between his digits to kiss your cheek.

“Good girl. If you need me to stop, don't hesitate.” He pulled away, and just as soon as he paused the roleplay, he began again.

“I'm happy that you came in as soon as you started to feel off. I assure you that we will be able to check everything and see what could be wrong.” He had you lie back against the cold slab used as the med-bays examination table. His mass-displaced servo started over your chest, feeling the rapid rising and falling of your breast. He smoothed his cold servo over your clothed top as he felt for any lumps.

“How about you remove your gown for me? I can’t check for lumps like this.” He ordered. You didn’t hesitate to remove the top of the gown. The fabric fell and pooled at your waist as he hummed appreciatively and moved his servos back to your chest to feel your tits. His servos groped at the soft mounds of flesh and muscle, feeling for anything abnormal. His hold wasn’t rough, nor was it gentle. His one servo became two on your chest and felt you up. A small noise escaped your lips before you bit your lip to silence any sound from leaving you.

“Hmm.” He hummed, feeling you up for any lumps and found none, the smallest hint of curled at the edges of his mouth before disappearing as he pulled away. He wrote down what he felt before he moved on to the next part of his examination. He motioned for you to lie back against the examination table, you follow his instructions and waited with anticipation as he turned back to his tray of tools. He looked over each one until he found what he was looking for, and from it, he pulled a speculum.

A pap smear?

You had one not that long ago. You didn't voice your protest as you weren't the doctor. He wanders back over to your side. His servo grabs the hospital gown and pulls it the rest of the way down your body until it is removed from your figure. The chilled air of the exam room brought goosebumps to your skin as the cold air met your warm skin. Your skin fluttered as he dragged the instrument along the skin of your pubic bone in a lazy, careless pattern.

“Open your legs.” He orders. You followed, legs spreading off to the sides, exposing your pelvic area to him. Had you been able to see you, you would have caught Ratchet shuddering in excitement at your willingness to be examined by him. He grabbed the lube for the speculum and popped open the cap to drizzle it over the metal with a small squeeze to the bottle. You knew just from look alone just how cold that was going to be. He hummed a small tune cheerfully as he got between your spread legs and pressed the speculum against your pussy. A shudder passed through you with a surprised gasp as its cold, lubed clamps were grinded against your clit.

“I have to get the lube spread around before I can proceed. I can't risk harming my patient, now can I?” He moved it in a rhythmic pattern against your sensitive nub, bringing legs to tremble and tense at the pleasure that surged in your abdomen and pooled with a liquid heat inside of you.

“How does that feel?” He asks. You nod with a whimper before answering his question.

“G-Good.” You whine, he hummed in approval at the confirmation for him to continue with his exam. The speculum nestled its way between your folds, slipping into your aching hole followed with another shudder from you. It pushed its way until it was fully inside of you. Its freezing cold clamps were pressed as close to your walls could go before he gave you a quick look, and then he moved It to open. It opened you with ease, but this discomfort from it brought forth a whine as it pried your walls open for him to take a peek at what he was working with.

“My my, what a beautiful fleshy valve. It's not every day I get to examine such a fine specimen. Your anatomy is so similar to our own-” he paused. “I wonder if…” He trails off before he's grabbing your thigh in one servo and pulling them further apart while the other keeps the clamps opened.

“You are absolutely drenched! Is this getting you wet? Such a bad girl, a naughty patient doesn't deserve good awards. Instead, they get to suffer the consequences.” He purrs before his lips are on your clit bringing forth a wail of surprise and pleasure as he sucked and swirled his glossa around it making your legs jerk and your body thrash as he hums around the sensitive bundle of nerves with a grin.

Tonight was going to be spectacular~

[hannie-dul-set]

[patience is a virtue…?]. in the over two hundred years that dokyeom has been working as a guardian angel for heaven— cycling through various humans needed proper guidance time after time— never had he met someone so, so—

“hello! my name is dokyeom, and from today on, i will be your guardian angel.”

—so morally problematic.

“oh, it’s alright. i don’t need one.”

that was the first thing you said to him during your first meeting. it still rattles him three, four months into being assigned to you, and throughout these past four months, he’s slowly started to realize exactly why your previous angel resigned. 

“ex—excuse me?” dokyeom stammers, and the heavenly halo spotlighting him in the middle of your room flickers a bit, in tune with the flustered twitch of his smile. you’re not even looking at him. you’re sitting cross legged on your desk chair, swinging it back and forth as you pour a hundred percent of your attention into your cell phone. “haha, everyone needs and has a guardian angel, silly! you are one of the special people to actually meet yours!”

special is a stretch. it’s a general rule in the GAORAP (Guardian Angel Operating Rules and Procedures) that no angel may, for whatever reason, materialize in front of their assigned human— except in special cases, where direct contact between angel and assignment is deemed absolutely necessary for the latter’s spiritual growth and development.

in other words, when someone’s strayed too far from the path towards god, heaven has to directly intervene.

“hey.” 

his words seemed to have caught your attention. 

“catch.”

swoosh!

thwack!

just not in the way he had hoped. 

“whoa. holy shit. seems like even angels can get hurt.”

his first meeting with you ended with a phone getting punt straight into his nose. no wonder mingyu looked like he’d gone through hell and back in the six months he’d been assigned to you, and the moment his resignation got approved, it’s like he regained back seventeen years of life, singing praises of hallelujah while skipping out from the management office.

that was because you are way worse than hell. case in point—

“can’t you just— can’t you just talk it out?! ack, stop! stop! he’s already unconscious!”

right now, the nth person you’ve dragged into alleyway simply because you didn’t like the way they were looking at you. dokyeom is stressed. so, so stressed as his words fail once more— bam!— and your fist lands on the nameless victim’s nose again. he winces. he can’t intervene directly. your reformation should start with you after all. but you’ve shown no signs of even wanting to become a better person.

“c’mon, he started it! he glared at me from across the street like he wanted to start a fight! look, he even punched me too!” you let the poor guy fall onto the dirt ridden floor to snatch dokyeom’s hand, press it up to your cheek— your blood grazed cheek, warm and burning— almost like an inferno from hell. “see. it hurts when you touch it here. don’t you have healing powers or some shit?”

dokyeom lets out a squeak and snatches his hand back.

you cackle, turn your wildly grinding face back to the opening mouth of the alley, and start walking away (not without landing a spit on the guy that allegedly tried picking a fight with you).

“gonna stop by the market! you can head home first, mr. angel!”

so much for reformation. this is worse than dealing with a murderous convict. what makes you worse than someone who has committed numerous crimes against humanity, is the fact that you seem to get a kick out of seeing an angel in distress. you seem to enjoy testing just how much of your bullshit he can handle before snapping.

“haha, maybe think twice next time before taking someone’s—”

“please think about the consequences of your actions.”

“where did you get that phone?”

“that’s— that’s trespassing! this is illegal!”

“what…what was your reason for breaking his nose this time?”

it’s fine. this is fine. he can handle all of this. he was trained for this very thing. you should become a positive person who is considerate of others, his mentor had told him on the day of his promotion. he’s so, so patient. he’s the embodiment of patience. that virtue is literally imbibed into his very being. one day, he’d be able to get you to do something good. it doesn’t have to be grand. it doesn’t have to be virtuous. 

but if he keeps trying, if he could just stop you from acting out just once, then the rest will follow.

maybe his words will work this time. maybe you’ll—

“what the fuck did you just say to me, you prick? hey, get over here! i’m gonna kick your— whoa!”

nevermind.

“hey what the fuck, angel, what are you doing?! dokyeom! put me the fuck down!”

no amount of coaxing or convincing can stop you from succumbing to your violent impulses. nothing. “stop squirming,” he grunts. you hang over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. your fists hammer against his back as he walks a set of stairs that lead the way down. he skips a few. you let out a sharp yelp. “if i drop you, you might just end up straight to hell at this rate.”

“let me go! hey! are you even allowed to do this?!” sure, he isn’t supposed to intervene directly, but 1 john 3:18 reads: “let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.” actions speak louder than words— if words fail, then he’d just have to pick you up and stop you from doing wrong himself.

[crow-quilll]

hii! when are you gonna post chapter 11? i have been waiting impatiently ahhhh

Hello!! So sorry, just finished my last assignment today and NOW I am free from university's evil clutches for a whole week. SO I can say that Chapter 11 for Nobody's Soldier will be out tomorrow :) But as a little treat, here's a taste tester:

(CW!!: Aftermath of torture)

-----

"I lost, Young-il," Gi-hun's voice grows quieter, lower, more vulnerable, "I lost. I- I couldn't last through all of it, I gave the Front Man what he wanted."

He runs his own hands through his hair, resisting the urge to pull at the strands to distract himself from the dull, all-consuming shame.

"And then he came in here and--" 

Gi-hun cuts himself off, pressing his lips together as he instantly decides that he can't vocalize what happened next. He just can't. Telling Young-il about the torture was one thing, but telling him how the Front Man hand-fed him stew? How he gently caressed his face and called him "beautiful"?

No. Young-il didn't need to know all of that, he didn't. He would never be able to look at Gi-hun the same again without picturing the Front Man's hand wrapped around his throat, deciding if Gi-hun had behaved well enough to earn the privilege of breathing.

Young-il's hand finds his shoulder gently from behind, "I'm so sorry."

Gi-hun's shoulders lower with a shaking breath out, pulling his hands down from his face, "It doesn't matter, it's over now. We've got more important things to worry about." 

"Gi-hun, you are important," Young-il corrects him, forcefully turning him around to see his face, "How do you expect to lead a rebellion if you can barely stand?" 

"I can stand just fine," Gi-hun refutes stubbornly as he meets the other's eyes, ignoring the way his entire body trembles from supporting his own weight, "What time is it? How long until lights out?"

"Just stop," Young-il commands firmly, both hands finding the sides of his arms as if they never left, "take a breath." 

Gi-hun stares at him bewildered for a moment, something in him instinctively itching to disobey like a beaten dog that bites before it can be kicked again. He has to remind himself that he's talking to someone who genuinely wants to help. He tentatively obeys, taking a slow breath in and wincing at the movement of his mutilated ribs. He holds it for a moment, a dull blush creeping into his face at Young-il's close inspection, and lets the breath out through parted lips.

"We've got time, okay?" In-ho urges, rubbing the side of his arm gently, "You are bleeding through your bandages, so let me at least redress your wounds before you set off for another fight." 

"Young-il, I'm fine--"

"I shouldn't have to keep arguing with you about this," Young-il cuts his lie off, "I know you are in pain. Anyone would be after all you've been through."

Gi-hun grinds his teeth and looks away, "It's not that simple. If we don't make a move now--"

"Hey," Young-il's fingers find his chin and pull his face back up, forcing their eyes to meet, "do you trust me?" 

Gi-hun hesitates a little, swallowing the growing lump in his throat at the way that Young-il holds him. It resembles the Front Man's touch just enough to make him instantly nauseous -- but it's different. The Front Man's touch is cold and unyielding like the sharp kiss of frostbite, but Young-il's is tingly and pleasant like warm rain. And yet, a pit still curls in his gut like two frigid hands reached down his throat, took hold of his intestines, and wrung them like a wet towel.

He shouldn't be hesitating - why is he hesitating? Young-il has proven time and time again that he genuinely wants to help Gi-hun overthrow the Front Man. And yet, Gi-hun can't shake this haunting feeling that he's making the wrong choice.

But it's not Young-il making him hesitate, is it?

It's the Front Man and his games. Gi-hun has been warped like wood in water by this place. He can feel rot spreading to every facet of his being, chewing away at everything he is and ever will be like a cancer. His belief that he could rely on other people died with a whimper the day that Sang-woo bled out in his arms.

If he can believe that humanity is still capable of good, then why can't he trust anyone without waiting for a knife to dig into his back?

So, despite that sinking sensation in his chest, Gi-hun bites back his automatic reservations and lets his cracked walls lower.

"I trust you," Gi-hun says honestly, sounding far more breathless than he originally meant as he feels Young-il's breaths warming his face. 

Young-il's fingers fall away from his chin, his intense gaze softening like ice in sunlight, "Then let me help."

-----

Hehe, I hope you enjoyed this little appetizer. A new chapter is on its way, get ready my friends <3 <3

[thirstyforlulu]

Have a random drabble for an idea I had

Prompt: You are a higher up Hellsing employee who has worked with Alucard and Seras in the past. You have a complicated relationship with Alucard that includes snide remarks and aggressive late night rendezvous. Unfortunately, Alucard uses his strength to his advantage, and whenever you need his help, he makes you pay a very specific price

You groaned with frustration when you realized the unfortunate situation you had found yourself in. The mission that had been assigned to you and Seras was proving to be too difficult, and you worried that if the two of you continued to press on, one of you could get seriously injured. You needed someone else, someone more powerful to help you, and there was only one man for the job.

“Y/N, are you sure master won’t be mad if we ask him for help?” Seras muttered as the two of you walked down the stairs to Alucard’s room.

“Trust me, dear, he won’t,” You replied.

The further down the stairs you got, the more oppressive the air became. His aura was intimidating and could be felt for miles. When you got to the door, it was nearly suffocating.

You pushed it open, revealing the long, empty room where Alucard’s throne lay. It was dark, and your eyes took some time to adjust but you could clearly see his bright red irises glowing from across the room. Once you adjusted, you could see that he was sitting in his chair relaxed with a bottle of wine and a glass next to him on the table.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared you down silently, challenging you. Meeting that challenge, you confidently strode forward with a glare on your face. It wasn’t until you were about 8 feet from him that he finally spoke up.

“Why have you come to bother me tonight?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone

“We need your help. The mission we’ve been assigned is proving to be too much for us to handle,” You explained, voice even and clear.

Seras stayed a step behind you, watching her master closely. She nibbled her bottom lip nervously as she waited for his response.

“So you’ve come to me because you’re too weak?” Alucard accused.

“Yes,” You admitted, not wanting to deal with the whole back and forth.

He shifted in his seat, rising from his relaxed position.

“You know my price, Y/N.” He replied.

Seras glanced between the two of you curiously, not sure what he meant.

“But Seras-“ You tried to protest, but he cut you off.

“She can close her eyes or leave the room. I will not forgo payment to spare the feelings of someone else.”

You gulped, glancing over at her. She met your gaze, waiting for your instruction.

“Turn around for a bit,” You sighed.

She did as you said, turning around and facing the door. With her settled, you strode over to Alucard’s throne, staring him down as you walked. His gaze never left you, staying laser focused on your approaching form.

Once you reached the chair, you put your right knee on his thigh and your hands on the armrests. You met his gaze as you lifted yourself up, plopped yourself in his lap, and adjusted until you could feel his clothed bulge beneath you. Silently, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his as you started gyrating your hips against his.

You could feel him starting to stiffen beneath you as he grabbed your shoulders and deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, forcing past your lips and taking your own hostage for a mind melting dance. You kept grinding on him, even when his tongue was becoming overwhelming in your mouth. His erection, even through his clothes, was providing wonderful friction, you could hardly help yourself.

Occasionally, he would moan or groan when you would rub him just right. You pulled away, when you started running out of air. You stood up, straightening your clothes before walking back toward Seras.

“Consider that a down payment. You’ll get the rest when we complete the mission,” You said as you walked.

“Then lead the way, Y/N,” He replied, straightening up his own clothes and standing to follow you.

[azsazz]

Cupid's Chokehold Bonus Smut Scene 2

Kinktober Day 20: Azriel x Reader [Rimming]

Summary: Azriel loves to watch you pray.

Warnings: Smut, rimming, oral (F receiving), fingering

Word Count: 1,610

Read Cupids Chokehold Here: (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part 7) (Bonus Smut Scene 1)

_________________________________________

Azriel lands in the red sands of the rooftop training ring at the House of Wind, silent as a mouse. His cock strains against his trousers at the sight of you, knelt down and praying to the Mother for your next assignment. He can hear you murmuring softly to yourself but the words don’t register, his gaze is zeroed in on the way your ample ass sticks high in the air, back curved in a way he knows is only to taunt him, with your long, fluffy wings splayed wide in the warm sand. You look ready for the taking. 

He shouldn’t bother you, but he had to leave before you’d awoken this morning—riff raff in the Illyrian camps had somehow become his problem instead of Devlins—and he couldn’t ignore Rhysand’s command. 

It had been quick work, making an example of those that were out of line, tangling them in a web of shadows as he made his threats clear, glaring harshly into every Illyrians skull, sending the message along to those who had the gall to meet his gaze at all. As simple as the task had been, Azriel doesn’t like leaving you, not so soon after the mating bond has formed. It chafes uncomfortably in his chest.

You gasp as he falls to his knees behind you. You knew he arrived, you could feel it in your soul, thanks to the tethering of your souls. You hadn’t quite mastered withholding your emotions from fluttering through to the other, so when you’d found your mate missing this morning, with a note saying he’d been sent on assignment but would be back before the bed got cold, you’d spent the morning teasing yourself with your fingers down your pants, mirroring those feelings down to him while he worked with a sly smile.

It seems as though you’ll be paying for that right now.

“Don’t stop,” he purrs, hands tracing the curve of your ass. You yelp as he spanks you, a harsh tap that makes the wetness between your thighs grow. Azriel traces up your body with skilled fingers, draping himself over you. His wings smother yours, chilled from the morning altitude and extending nearly four feet wider than your own. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, loving how he covers you whole. Azriel’s cock presses tightly to your ass as he buries his mouth into the juncture of your shoulder and neck, nipping at the soft skin there.

“Gods, Azriel,” you moan softly, grinding back against him. He’s a delicious weight against your back and he shudders at your broken noise, bucking into you. He sucks a deep, greedy mark into your skin that has your body trembling, his fingers snaking around your waist to rub against your clothed cunt.

“That’s right,” he hisses, stealing a kiss. You lean into him, and he loves just how desperate you are for him, whimpering as he slowly works his fingers across your cunt. The smell of your arousal coats the air thickly, and every inhale he takes is filled with it, sweet and heady on his tongue. “Keep praying to your Gods.” 

You can’t, though, because you’ve forgotten all the words. Azriel has stolen them away with his mouth, his languid tongue tracing yours, demanding them from you.

You cry out as his fingers slide between your soft feathers, calluses brushing against the sensitive skin beneath them. Your body wracks with shudders and you clench your eyes shut tightly, fisting the sand. He’s allowed you to explore his wings, spread bare and wide for your taking. Azriel feels the need now to return the favor, surprised at how silken your skin is beneath the thick plumes of feathers.

There’s a soft kiss at your cheek and then Azriel’s pulling away again, pressing up to admire your ass, still in the air from where you’re crouched. He traces the lines of your trousers, no longer the white you’ve always worn, but a black pair, one he’d had made for you. You still aren’t all that comfortable wearing anything besides white, but his heart skips in his chest. If you’re wearing black, it’s for him, because you miss him dearly, and the color reminds you of him.

“Please,” you gasp weakly. His gentle, wandering touch is too much. You want him draped over you, his weight pressing the air from your lungs as he shoves his hot cock into you with a fervor that shows you he’s missed you as much as you’ve missed him. You want him pressed so tightly to you that you can’t even breathe, wings and limbs and lips tangled with each other, never apart. 

Azriel hums, lighting up your skin. His hands snake back to your body, across your hips and dipping under the billowy softness of the shirt you’d stolen from his armoire this morning. His smell had consumed you, body and soul, but to be at such a distance from him was painful. It had been the only remedy that had eased the ache slightly, but now there is a different ache overtaking you as his hands cup your breasts, massaging and pinching and helping you kneel upwards so he can work the buckles of your pants. 

You crane your neck over your shoulder, hands in his hair guiding his face down to yours. You devour each other, rough nips as you fight for control, the lust distance has grown tenfold clawing its way up your throat.

His tentative touch is no longer soft. Azriel yanks your pants down over your ass and you yelp as he bends you forward again, his large hand planted at the small of your back, guiding you into a steep bend, your ass full on display for him.

“Azriel,” you whimper, and he shushes you, admiring the view. 

“You are the most perfect creature I have ever seen, love,” he’s breathless, and you keen. You can feel his cock twitching where it’s trapped in his leathers, resting against your seam. His free hand grabs hold of your hind firmly, the other sliding down as he spreads you wide. “I am going to completely ravage you.”

The admission has you grinding against him like a pathetic female, but Azriel doesn’t seem to mind. He adores the way your body moves for him, the slick he can see coating your cunt, though his gaze is focused completely on your pucker, fluttering with need. 

You gasp and your body bucks forward at the shock of something wet landing right atop your hole. Azriel’s grip slides to your hips and he growls as he pulls you back to him, a warning low in his throat. His fingers find your cunt, fluttering over with a touch so lightly it nearly makes you chew through your lip. You want those thick fingers inside of you now, but before you can say anything he’s skimming higher, right across the wetness where he’d spit on your opening.

“Oh,” your moan is breathy, long and languid as Azriel explores your hole. He doesn’t press in, even if you want him to, just traces you like an artist admiring his muse. “Please,” you manage to struggle out, “More.”

Your mate obeys, allowing his instinct to take over as he swoops down, holding your cheeks apart as he licks a stripe from the bottom of your cunt all the way to your hole, bringing your juices with him. Your body shudders beneath him, wings flattening into the sands in pleasure.

“My greedy love,” Azriel comments, voice reverberating off of your sensitive skin. You whimper, shoving your ass back into his face for more.

The male doesn’t hesitate, licking tantalizing patterns across your pucker, his fingers biting firmly into the soft skin of your ass so hard you know there will be fingertip shaped bruises on your skin tomorrow.

Your body is buzzing with lust and adrenaline. You hadn’t considered this would feel so good, his tongue swirling around your hole, just as skilled with this area of your body as he is with your cunt. The soft strokes are mesmerizing, as are the noises of delight he’s allowing you to hear. 

The soft strokes turn pressing as he points his tongue, kneading at your hole. You shout, trying to clench your trembling legs together as he works his tongue into your body. Relax, his voice infiltrates your mind and you do so immediately, the soft demand of his voice guiding your body soft.

More, you plead. I need more.

And more Azriel gives you, fucking his tongue in and out of your ass as he lets you grind back, taking from him what you need. His fingers hook into your soaking cunt, letting you fuck onto both his hand in your cunt and his tongue in your ass. 

You can feel the burning cresting, moaning unabashedly in the morning light. If anyone wanted to train up here, they’d be in for quite the show. You don’t have it in you to care, not as the feeling of your oncoming orgasm churns hot in your loins and your mate picks up pace, fucking his fingers into your body and curling them just slightly, hitting the spot inside of you that has your vision edging black, like his shadows are trying to consume you whole. 

You burst with a cry that shocks the city still. Clouds suspended in the sky, wildlife gone quiet as your noises echo through the mountains, down the stairs leading into the House of Wind, only blocked from waking any roommates by the manifesting shadows swallowing the sounds whole. 

This…this is for Azriel’s ears only.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl

[lilg05]

Please me

Pov: paige helps you destress after a long day of assignments.

Warnings: Fingering swearing idk

“Fuck.” you grown as you finish up your last assignment for psychology.

“What’s wrong ma.” paige asks as she walks up to you wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

“I can’t finish this psychology essay i don’t know what to fucking write my minds all over the place.” you say sighing in defeat.

“When is it due?” paige ask softly while rubbing your shoulders.

“Next weekend.” you mumble.

“The why don’t you come lay down with me and you can finish it tomorrow?” she asks with uncertainty.

“Okay,” you agree “but only because im tired.”

As you close your laptop paige grabs your hand and pulls you towards your room. Shutting the door softly paige looks at you with a subtle smirk before she grabs your next and starts to kiss you. The kiss starts out slow and patient, until you decide you want more and start to pick up the pace. Paige leads you to the bed placing you on her lap. A sigh of relief passes through your lips as paige starts kissing down your neck.

“Fuck Paige.” you whine out softly.

“That feel good ma?” you reply by nodding fast as your hips start to slowly grind on Paige the need for her becoming more apparent in your underwear.

“Please Paigey” you grunt “need you so badly.”

“Yeah baby what is it you want” she kisses your chest “need to know baby only way i can help you.”

“your mouth P fuck i need you so bad.” you let out an exaggerated moan.

Paige brings her two fingers up to your mouth “Suck slut.” Paige demands.

Paige watches as you start to slowly take her fingers into your mouth as you stare at her with intense eye contact.

“Such a good girl, making sure my fingers are nice and wet.” you let out a needy whine as a response.

You let her fingers out of her mouth with a pop “please paigey need you.”

“What is that you need baby” i stare into her eyes “need my fingers my mouth come on ma you gotta talk to me.”

“need your fingers” you beg “need them so bad please fuck me please.”

Paige trails her hands down your toned torso and hover over your wet cunt. After a few seconds she starts to play with your clit earning a few moans and curses out of you.

“Fuck your soaking ma” she laughs “all this for me?”

You nod your head eagerly and start to grind yourself against her fingers. Paige’s breathing starts to pick up as she watches you fuck yourself with her fingers. Paige takes this as her opportunity to plunge her fingers into your pussy.

“Fuck yes paige just like that” you gasp “oh shit please don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” she says while snaking her other arm up to your neck knowing that turns you on even more. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she squeezes your pressure point softly.

“Fuck p i’m close.” you moan out.

“Yeah baby you gonna cum all over my fingers?” she asks curling her fingers into your g spot.

“Oh shit! Fuck fuck fuck i’m cumming paige fuck!” you moan out almost pornographicly.

“That’s it cum on mommy’s fingers.”

“Fuck.” you gasp as she curls her fingers once again.

Paige pulls her fingers out of you and cleans them off. “Did so good for me baby let me go get a rag and get you all cleaned up okay?”

You nod exhausted from the work out you just had. You watch as paige comes back from the bathroom with a wet rag and cleans up your sensitive pussy. Once she’s done she gets into bed with you pulling the covers up to her chest. You snuggle into her chest and kiss it softly.

“Thank you baby i’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help you.”

She looks down at you “Hey don’t ever feel obligated to make me cum too okay I chose to do this for you my love.”

“I love you paigey.”

“I love you too, ma.” paige reply’s softly while snuggling into your warm embrace.

Hey chat this is my first story please don’t hate🤪🤪 Please send requests cause i definitely need inspo!!