#I’ve wanted a collar for so long and she won’t get one

[libbytwq]

"Recieving Answers" part 1

next part: N/A

~♤◇♡♧~

SMGL:E walks slowly out of SMG1 and SMG2’s house, being careful to shut the door without making much noise. They let out a sigh in relief as the door shuts almost silently.

They look around and gaze up at the night sky. The stars were gorgeous. But now was not the time.

SMGL:E pulls out a small scrap of paper from his jacket pocket. Karen had found it this morning and handed it to her when SMGL:E stepped into McDonald’s. Neither knew where it came from.

It read:

Dearest SMGL:E,

Meet me by your USB. I may have the answers you’re looking for.

♡ An old friend

It was awfully sketchy, and awfully vague. But the idea of having closure to the gaps in his memories was worth every second, so SMGL:E speed walked in the direction of their USB.

The cool night air brushed their face and ruffled the fluff on their tanuki tail and blew through their fluffy ears. SMGL:E wore a serious and determined look on her face.

Closure... knowing about what happened before arriving in the Mushroom Kingdom... this is exactly everything SMGL:E could ever want!

Several little twinkles appear in the corner of SMGL:E’s line of vision. A pink one, a teal one, and a blue one. She sighs. They are used to these sparkles appearing at random points throughout the day and don’t want them to bother her now, not when she’s so close to having answers.

From the corner of his eye, she sees the teal spark whizz in front of her in some sort of shape, and for a moment, he thinks he saw the teal sparkle write a word, before it disappears as fast as it appeared.

Stop.

SMGL:E frowns and continues speed walking in the direction of his USB. They will ignore it.

The blue spark whizzes in front of him, just like the teal one, and forms another word.

Don’t.

SMGL:E groans and picks up the pace. They maneuver their way into the forest their USB is located.

Whatever these stupid sparkles are, they are trying to stop her from finding answers.

She will ignore them. They keep going.

The pink spark doesn’t form any words, but whizzes around her in speedy circles, and feels what feels like a hand grab their shoulder, but there’s nothing there, just pink sparkles, and it’s not enough to pull SMGL:E back. But it’s enough to startle him and yank her shoulder away.

They groan loudly, stop running, and yell out into the night, to wherever these sparkling entities are around them.

“Whatever you... things are, I want you to leave me alone for just this moment!!” SMGL:E shouts, frustrated. “This is my one chance at finding out a hint on who I actually am, I need answers, and you won’t take this away from me!”

They stop yelling, and wait for any type of response.

Nothing. No sparkles.

SMGL:E sighs in mild relief and wanders into the clearing of the forest, and spots the USB.

But there’s a person standing in front of it, their back facing her. Someone who looks familiar, but still someone she’s never met in their life.

They wore a dark gray vest and a white collared shirt, and long, sleek, black gloves that reached their elbows. They wore dark pants and knee high, sleek boots. Their hair was black and sleek, and in the silhouette of the night, they looked like they had fluffy gray ears, similar to the fluffy ears SMGL:E has, except her ears are purple.

SMGL:E swallows nervously and hesitantly steps closer. They clear their throat. Here goes nothing.

“...You wanted to see me?” Her voice wavered as she spoke.

The figure turned around and SMGL:E sees their face for the first time.

A familiar face, yet so unfamiliar. They had a singular curved, dark gray horn just above their forehead in the direct middle, and three eyes, two in normal spots and one on their forehead, with black in the spots the whites should be. Their pupils were a glowing white color, and they stared at SMGL:E, and a smile curves from their lips.

“I was hoping for the day I’d get to see you again,” they said. “I’ve missed you.”

They walk towards SMGL:E and grins. They were shorter in stature compared to SMGL:E.

SMGL:E tilts their head, a little nervous.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are. When I crash-landed here, my memories were all out of whack-”

“That’s perfectly okay!” They say, the smile not leaving their face. It was comforting, but also... ominous, but SMGL:E wasn’t sure how. “I don’t blame you for your memories being a little fuzzy. It must be awfully terrifying not knowing what happened prior to this… but I’m here to offer you some answers.”

SMGL:E’s face lights up and she sighs.

“Thank you… what’s your name?”

The mysterious person smiles a soft smile, their glowing white pupils twinkling lightly.

“Ignatius.”

SMGL:E was a little stunned.

Ignatius… that sounded… extremely familiar…

I.

SMGL:E had a habit of associating colors and words and objects and creatures with specific letters of the alphabet. I, J, K, L, M, N…

Something clicked in her brain.

These letters were people.

And Ignatius was the I.

They matched the exact vibe SMGL:E associated with I.

The one SMGL:E didn’t like thinking about for too long. The affection, yet the dread… the feeling of being able to meld with this person perfectly, yet the feeling like she will crumble if she allows that to happen… the one they associated with black and gray and white… the one they associated with the number three… it all made sense!

SMGL:E smiles softly, mildly nervously.

“…I don’t exactly remember you… but I remember your vibe…” SMGL:E says softly.

Even if the vibe was a little ominous, having some semblance of familiarity is a relief.

Ignatius smiled softly.

“What a relief… now for your introduction…”

SMGL:E glances around slowly, mildly confused.

“…You already know my name..? You wrote it on the paper you got to me…” SMGL:E says, tilting his head.

Ignatius chuckles under its breath.

“Maybe so, but you don’t know your name, now do you?”

SMGL:E feels even more confused.

“I do, though?” SMGL:E responds, puzzled. “It’s literally SMGL-“

“SMGLore.”

SMGL:E stops as Ignatius cuts her off.

Did… did they just…

She looks at Ignatius stunned, who just looks at her with a knowing smile.

“Your name, before your memory got wiped, was SMGLore,” it says, walking closer to them. “That’s what the L stands for. Lore.”

SMGL:E feels their heart race.

Lore…

SMGLore…

That was the name on the tip of her tongue that they were seemingly always unable to say. Every time she tried to say it, she glitches out a bit, as if he had forgotten it, despite not forgetting it.

“…SMGLore..?”

SMGL:E gasps when they realize they are able to say it.

“…oh my goodness… Lore… that’s me!”

She grows giddy and ecstatic. They can remember his name! After so long, she could remember what the L stood for!

Ignatius gazed up at SMGL:E lovingly, smiling softly. It had been a hot minute since it has seen her smile like that.

SMGL:E turns to Ignatius, beaming happily, before going to his chaotic performance grin.

“Now I can properly introduce myself to everyone I meet!” they proclaim loudly. “IT IS I, SUPER MEME GUARDIAN LORE!!”

The yelling echoes throughout the forest, and Ignatius chuckles softly.

“Do you want to keep the “Error” in your name, too?” it asks. “That’s what the E stood for in SMGL:E, right?”

She grins and shrugs.

“Eh. It gets to be a bit of a mouthful, y’know? Maybe I can drop the ‘Error’ sometimes.”

Ignatius chuckles, and SMGL:E’s smile softens. Despite this being the first time since they lost her memories they have heard Ignatius laugh, it feels like he’s heard it dozens of times before.

Ignatius steps closer to SMGL:E and puts both it’s hands on her shoulders and gazes up at them lovingly.

SMGL:E feels their heart skip a beat in his chest, and they blush lightly.

“Ignatius, hang on, what’re you-“

Before she could finish the sentence, Ignatius had pulled SMGL:E by the shoulders into a kiss.

SMGL:E freezes and doesn’t reciprocate the kiss immediately. Part of her felt horrified that this was happening, but part of them felt like this was right and perfect and wanted it to continue, and yet there was another part that felt ashamed for thinking that, because he wanted to save her first kiss for Karen, and now it had gotten pretty much stolen.

SMGL:E pries Ignatius off of her and breaks the kiss.

“W-Woah woah woah, hang on… what was that for?”

Ignatius was a little stunned when she parted the kiss, but composes itself.

“…Right, you don’t remember…” they say, smiling softly. “…We loved each other, Lore, y’know. Before your memories got lost.”

SMGL:E blushes and sighs.

“…Okay, maybe we were a couple back before I ended up here, but even if you’ve known me all your life, as far as I’m concerned, I’ve only known you for two minutes, so having my first kiss stolen by someone I’ve only known for two minutes is… yeesh…”

Ignatius’s eye twitches.

“That was far from your first kiss though, darling…” they say, a loving smile on its face.

SMGL:E blushes and frowns.

“Okay, whatever, but that felt like my first kiss…” they grumble softly. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I was saving it for someone that wasn’t you.”

Ignatius’s smile falters for a moment, but quickly regains themselves.

“Someone else..? Who else could there possibly be?” they say.

SMGL:E almost names Karen, but feels the colorful sparkles from earlier return. SMGL:E feels a little frustrated that they’ve returned despite her yelling at them, but doesn’t show it on her face. Ignatius can’t seem to see the sparkles, which is a bit of a relief.

SMGL:E feels the phantom hand of the pink sparkle gently tug on their arm, almost as if it wanted her to stop speaking. SMGL:E sighs and decides not to say Karen’s name.

“It’s none of your business,” he says. “I came here for answers about my past, not small talk about my love life. I don’t want to focus on our history quite yet… I just want to know what’s going on. Tell me where I came from, what am I, how I got here… everything you know…”

Ignatius looks a little less happy than it was earlier, but smiles softly anyway. SMGL:E swears she saw a flicker of Ignatius’s hair drift up like a piece of ash from a fire into the night.

From the corner of her eye, SMGL:E sees the three sparkles whizzing around, the pink, teal and blue all writing out a word.

Unreliable.

SMGL:E pays it no mind and looks down at Ignatius again, who smiles a charming, yet eerie smile.

“…Very well. I will tell you all I know.”

end of part 1

~♤◇♡♧~

[lovelybabey]

Someone should get me a collar and hold onto it while I fuck them.

[tteokdoroki]

HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.

౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )

౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.

౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.” 

“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“ 

if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had  learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.

if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels. 

all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’

just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it. 

“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth. 

there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.” 

ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.

sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend. 

but you don’t believe that. 

and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces. 

“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”

by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes. 

once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.” 

“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards. 

his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel. 

sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it. 

tonight; his prey is you. 

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you. 

tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.

kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.

his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.

god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look. 

a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold. 

except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you. 

“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip. 

but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth. 

“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.” 

it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond. 

within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family. 

“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on.  “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”

graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch. 

the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?” 

sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him. 

from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole. 

two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.

his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you. 

“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.

a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?” 

condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:

“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!” 

“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.

not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again. 

your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom. 

ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process. 

if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire. 

and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life. 

“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.

huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like  words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.

nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you. 

at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time. 

finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.

“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there. 

even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this. 

“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.  

“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”

your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”

fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels. 

somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact. 

“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.

“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?” 

sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?” 

the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach. 

he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone. 

“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?” 

losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet. 

“mph…fuck!” 

“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.” 

“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you. 

your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.

“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.” 

“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes. 

ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?” 

a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips. 

“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a  glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.

ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you. 

you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.” 

“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!” 

silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world. 

you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies. 

you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that. 

“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly. 

“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”

“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.

sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?” 

“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you.  “i love you, love you s’much…love you,” 

the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm. 

“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks. 

pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.” 

“ryo!” 

“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.

still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain. 

you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?” 

“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.” 

“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.” 

but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with. 

you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.” 

and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere. special thanks to @yennified for the ask below !

[jazzyoranges]

Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩

She’s my Collar

Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader

Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)

Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think

A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶

MINORS DNI!

Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl

Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out

While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her

Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead

Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least

“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”

“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”

“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”

“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”

“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”

“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed

“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”

“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”

“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”

“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”

“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”

“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”

“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes

“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”

“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”

“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin

Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room

The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it

“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”

“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled

“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”

Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door

“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to

“I’ve come to check up on your illness”

“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”

“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”

“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”

“I promise.”

You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”

Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke

“Let me help you.”

“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you

“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection

“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”

“Help me like..?”

“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”

Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back

“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”

Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat

“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact

“Wednesday, I-”

“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat

“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.

“Puppy.”

“Wednesday?”

“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”

Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs

“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach

Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked

The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in

“Please, Wednesday…” You whine

“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”

“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want

“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick

Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.

And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better

She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life

“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her

“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours

“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”

“Huh?”

“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”

“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”

“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”

“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”

“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”

“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”

“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining

The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.

It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you

The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.

Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.

“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.

“Duly noted.”

—

You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now

The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends

The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day

The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious

So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)

Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her

You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.

Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.

The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.

You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.

—

“(L/n).”

“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.

“We cannot continue our arrangement.”

“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.

“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”

“Wednesday, I-“

“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face

Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away

“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.

—

Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed

Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body

It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.

Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.

“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl

“I do not.”

“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”

“She has that new girl, does she not?”

“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”

“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”

“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought

“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Annoyingly so.”

“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”

The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-

“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult

The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option

She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)

It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly

The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers

“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.

“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence

“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course

When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat

What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy

“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”

“I came to help.”

“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”

“I’m not lying, Y/n.”

“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass

When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood

Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face

“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum

“Knot me, cucciola.”

When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly

“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”

“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly

“Puppy.”

“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame

“Cucciola wants to breed?”

“F-Fuck you.”

“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice

“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”

“W-What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”

“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven

“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation

“Knot me.”

“Huh?”

“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance

Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her

When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday

Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.

“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her

“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out

Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.

You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.

Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before

Wednesday whimpers at your touch.

You do it again.

Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.

“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat

“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.

“Cara mia.”

“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind

“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you

“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”

“Deathly.”

“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.

…you decide to ignore that thought.

Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.

A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday

“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax

Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.

“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.

You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.

“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”

“More than enough, (Y/n).”

[thinemoonshine]

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, jay is a two-faced ‘gentleman,’ he sleeps with (y/n), members are sexually frustrated, sunoo is growing more obsessed with (y/n) by the second, riki and jungwon make their appearance, (y/n) feeds to the nobles’ delusions to get what she wants, heeseung grovels type: mini series word count: 8.9k

(y/n)’s created a rift between them. she has sunoo wrapped around her finger and she who controls the puppeteer, controls the puppets—but she needs more. so, what better left to do than to subjugate the real genius behind the genius?

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

𝒥ongseong stirs in his bed before he sits up, disgruntled from having his sleep interrupted and grumbles as he walks to his doors. Swinging them open, he's prepared to give the intruder a good earful but finds himself frozen instead upon seeing a timid (y/n).

Clad only in her nightwear—a white satin nightdress that reaches mid-thigh with snowy lace trims, its collar lower than the typical and exposing her cleavage that makes his eyes pop and the fabric is thin…almost sheer that his gaze struggles to remain still.

His blatant ogle makes the corners of her lips curl but they fall instantly as she takes a step forward.

"If you don't mind, would you like to accompany me for a cup of tea? I know it's unconventional seeing how this is past bedtime however, I have trouble sleeping from what transpired earlier on..." She starts quietly, voice in a whisper as if afraid to awaken any other as eyes draw figures onto the floor. Jongseong can see her gulping nervously before she lifts her gaze to him. "D-did I disturb your slumber?"

He recalls his irritation from having awakened from his rest and yet, he shakes his head as a cordial, gentle smile stretches onto his face. "No, of course not. I found myself engrossed in a book and have been awake for a while. Please, come in.”

She doesn’t miss the way he rakes his lecherous gaze up and down her figure as she walks past and as soon as she hears the door shut softly behind her, she knows she’s already won.

He manages to keep his genteel manner throughout their tea time—behaving solicitously, making a few lighthearted jokes to see her smile and giggle, pouring her tea for her—and acting like a true gentleman.

If only his eyes didn’t lower to her bosom whenever she would lean forward, or to her legs whenever she would cross them or even lick his lip when she would ‘accidentally’ spill tea from the corners of her mouth from abrupt sips or rushed tilts.

“You’re very kind, Jongseong. Don’t tell the others but I feel much more comfortable with you than I am with them,” she confesses bashfully and gosh, does the pink blooms on her cheeks fuel his hunger and his legs part wider below the table as he feels blood rush between.

With a soft, endearing chuckle, he envelopes her hand that rests on the table with his which makes her raise her eyes to him with surprise. Those glossy, naive doll-like eyes that he so desperately wants to see brimming with tears of pleasure—or fear. As long as it’s him causing it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he assures and she too, titters at his claim before her focus shifts to his hold. Slowly, she lifts it up, grasping it in hers before she touches the calloused pads of his fingers. He notices. How can he not when her touch is so feathery and warm? “Ah, the sword training and instruments I’ve played over the years left their marks.”

“Do they hurt?” She asks, voice wispy as she tenderly caresses the hardened skin. There is a sudden shift in atmosphere, tension rising and heat prickling at their skin as she looks up at him curiously, intently.

The noble lets out a ragged exhale. “No… Not at all.”

At this, a smile graces her face. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Kiss.

Jongseong’s eyes widen at the sudden intimacy—her lips against the pads of his fingers, one by one. Her actions slow, so deeply tender and pure—thus, his restraint snaps.

THUD!

His chair violently falls backwards at his abrupt rise and (y/n) finds herself pinned against the wall, tongue tangled with his.

Seong grunts into the heated kiss as he presses his clothed arousal against her before a guttural groan sounds when she reciprocates, bucking her hips forward at his advance.

By the time he pulls away, their faces are flushed and he revels in the way she shudders with desire. With lips swollen and red from his relentless presses and chews, he smirks darkly—lust clouding his eyes and rationality.

“Stop,” (y/n) rejects suddenly. Her hand against his chest as she holds him back and her shaky pupils refuse to meet with his. “We sh-shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inadequate.”

Jongseong looks down at her, his breaths hot and heavy as he feels his blood rush at her meekness. Her demureness excites him in ways he can’t comprehend. To see her trembling and panting as she struggles to remain still below his fervid gaze and yet flinches and melts into his every touch—she’s so innocent and delectable.

And to be the one to corrupt such purity—

He shivers with delight, grin widens and adrenaline courses through his veins like molten lava—igniting him from the inside out as his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“Shhh… There’s nothing to worry about,” Jongseong soothes, breath steaming against the shell of her ear and at her flinch, he almost lets out a moan of contentment. “I’m just trying to help you fall asleep.”

“How?” She asks, eyes blinking up at him with a curious twinkle and Seong brushes her hair away from her face. His gaze is affectionate, endearing and even when he kisses her forehead—so soft and loving.

If only he isn’t a corrupted man.

“I’ll show you, hm?” He starts with a charming, seductive lilt and his hand gradually climbs up her thigh with a searing touch. A glint in his sharp, clouded gaze as his lips pepper kisses to the side of her neck and down to her bust.

—

Riki watches the girl who has been the centre of his brothers' attention. It’s astounding honestly, how they’re all suddenly pursuing one girl with such enthusiasm he’s never seen before.

It almost makes them pathetic.

‘They are pathetic,’ Riki scoffs mentally and picks up a pebble off the garden floor before tossing it to the defenseless girl.

She jumps when the stone grazes her arm but quickly turns to its source. Her head tilts with confusion once seeing Riki exiting through the garden's archway to her. “Do you need something?”

“I require an explanation,” the other casually replies. His sharp eyes wander up and down her figure before cocking up a brow. “You. What sorcery have you casted on my brothers for them to act like mindless mutts?”

She puts a hand on her chest, taken aback. “Sorcery? I don’t comprehend.”

He scoffs, cynical. "Of course, you wouldn't. A witch would not simply confess to being one."

"Witch...?" (y/n) repeats, now fully understanding his insinuation. "I'm sorry but, I fail to see why you would assume such a thing.”

Riki says nothing, only continuing to glower at her before turning his face away. As much as he wishes to demand for answers, to treat her just as he treats any other disposable being to get what he wants, he can’t.

The news of Jaeyun and Sunghoon almost being permanently removed from Sunoo’s residence have spread like wildfire so Riki knows better than to touch the host’s most prized possession.

He exhales heavily, irritated before taking a big step towards the girl—instantly looming over with his chest near her face. He looks down vainly before he brusquely grasps her face in his large hand, eliciting a squeak from her. “I will find out what it is that you have up your sleeves, wench. And when that time comes, trust that you will be discarded to the streets, left to rot in your worthless, deplorable self.”

A heavy, abrupt silence engulfs them. The air stills and not a single leaf nor flower is dancing, neither the slightest rustle. The chirping birds have strangely quietened and even the clouds have shifted to cloak the sun—dimming the previously sunny and cheery ambience of the morning.

(y/n)’s brows knit as her previously apprehensive gaze sharpens to a glare of antipathy. The rims of her eyes red as her pupils stare dead into his, unwavering, unafraid as her soft, amicable aura seems to thicken into something completely different.

Hateful and…baneful.

Riki would be lying if he said he isn’t the slightest bit daunted.

So he lets her go.

“You disgust me,” he hisses before leaving the scene with long strides.

(y/n) stares at his furthering back, hands clenched to her sides as her patience thins by the second. It’s taxing to be entertaining these rambunctiously revolting and uncouth men. It’s easy when they’re at sea, her home, where she has the advantage.

But here, on land, her powers are weakened and she needs to play her cards right to ensure none would escape before she can finish them off. As vexing and laborious as it is, the result is always satisfying. To see them slowly meet their demise—crying and begging for mercy. A truly picturesque view.

“Lord Riki!” She calls and he hears her nimble footsteps chase after him before her figure stands in front to halt him. He raises a brow irritatedly. “I heard you and Sir Jungwon are commendable in the arts of dance. If you don’t mind, would you…aid me with my ballroom choreography?”

The noble scowls distastefully. “Do you not have Sunoo hyung for that?”

“He’s been busy as of late—taking care of the household and whatnot,” (y/n) explains briefly and looks up at him with the most sweetest of gaze and loveliest of smiles yet simultaneously pitiable as to gain his favour. “But if you’re unavailable, I can ask the his grace Jungwon.”

Riki’s sharp eyes scrutinize her mien and his furrow deepens at the entirely juxtaposing image he sees. Was the air of hostility she felt around her before a figment of his imagination?

He hates to leave things unsettled. So what else to do then to investigate?

“Alright, I will supervise you,” he agrees and the grin that stretches on her face unexpectedly makes his heart skip a beat. That genuine look of relief and delight is an expression rarely graced unto him. Infamous for being callous and pompous, it’s obvious that he won’t receive much…liking from others. They tend to deviate from him without giving him a chance to even speak but of course, he cares not. After all, he’s much better and grand than everybody else.

“Then, I shall see you in the ballroom!” The girl chirps and with a curtsy, she rushes away—long skirt flowing behind her in soft waves, akin to flower petals gently swaying in the wind.

Riki stares, his gaze transfixed and he swallows thickly as he takes note of his rapidly beating heart.

He can’t deny, she glows.

Meanwhile, in the main lounge are the mindless mutts—as per Riki’s words—who are enjoying their time together with rounds of billiard and glasses of expensive wine.

TACK!

Jaeyun strikes a ball and exhales a heavy breath through the nose after hearing their oldest’s query. He straightens his posture. “I’ve told you time and time again that my invitation was purely because I wished to ease her worries. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Heeseung scoffs, skeptical. “As if you could have innocent intent. I say you were hoping to win her favour and perhaps even entry to her private chamber.”

A scoff emits from the second older and they turn to Jongseong who’s swirling his cold beverage inside his crystal glass, watching it with a dreamy expression and a drunken grin.

“What’s with him? He’s been acting like this since morning,” Sunghoon asks, brows knitting at their brother’s weird behaviour. “It’s like he’s got his head in the clouds.”

Heeseung crosses his arms. “He looks strangely…blissful. What kind of ‘medication’ did you take this time?”

“Hm?” Seong raises a brow before shaking his head. That same, loopy grin still on his face as he sets down his glass onto the round table. “There’s no medication. Is it a crime for a man to simply be happy?”

Now all three are casting puzzled yet judgmental looks to him before they return to their game—which becomes instantly interrupted when he speaks his next words.

“Although I must say, this elation is all thanks to a certain, breathtaking maiden. Oh, such a sweet little vixen, she is,” he chuckles before inhaling the contents of his glass within a breath. “Truly the best I’ve ever had.”

“What??” They all blurt, almost in harmony and Heeseung strides to the intoxicated man before seizing his collar.

“What do you mean by that?” Hee asks with blatant frustration and at the other’s lovesick giggle, he tightens his grip. “Tell me!”

Knock, knock.

The other two momentarily shift their focus to the door but finds themselves mesmerized upon seeing the girl that enters with a tray of biscuits in hand.

She smiles brightly but it drops after seeing the unfolding scene. “Wh-what’s happening here?”

Heeseung and Jongseong turn at the sound of her voice and the former lets go to which the latter instantly flees to embrace the girl from behind.

His arms tight around her waist as he buries his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent and basking in her warmth that makes shivers crawl up and down his spine. Memories from last night replay in his head which instantly builds a tent in his trousers. “Hi, darling~”

His friends watch as the girl’s face flush deeply and widened eyes dart across each and every one of them before she wriggles away from the drunken noble’s hold.

“I-I heard you all were spending time in the lounge and prepared some snacks,” she says quickly with a clear of her throat, completely disregarding Jongseong’s inappropriate conduct.

Jaeyun is the first to step forward and takes the baked goods from her with his own grin. His face is radiant with joy and appreciation. “Thank you. We’ll make sure to enjoy them.”

Sunghoon nods and hand reaches out to grab one—humming with eyes turning rounder and brows raised to show his awe. “I am impressed. Did you make these on your own?”

The girl’s cheeks mantle with shyness as she bobs her head subtly. “I hope you don’t mind. I know that my skills are still lacking compared to others.”

Heeseung suddenly holds her hands in his before raising them up to press his warm, plush lips onto them. A handsome smile stretches and he gazes at her adoringly while thumbs caress her skin. “Anything made by these gentle, loving touch of yours is bound to be nothing short of perfection.”

His friends roll their eyes at his nauseating flirtatiousness and truthfully, (y/n) is repulsed by it too. If it wasn’t for the other presences in the room, she would have hissed at the man who’s so brazenly grasping her hands. He knows that, thus why he chooses to be so openly ‘affectionate.’

She smiles patiently which shifts his grin to a smirk at her defeat but his victory is short-lived due to a blotto Jongseong pulling her away and into his chest.

“Stop flirting with my woman!” He slurs with a drowsy glare at the older. He then, turns the girl around to face him before smashing his lips onto hers—eliciting large gasps and imbuing overflowing displeasure within the other three.

“What are you doing??” Sunghoon roars and roughly yanks the maiden away. His grip is forceful, enough to leave a bruise and judging from that itself, it’s clear to her that he doesn’t care about her being assaulted by Jongseong.

He’s merely a greedy, bitter boy whose shiny new toy was stolen.

(y/n) wishes nothing more than to sink her teeth into his flesh and tear a large enough hole just to see him bleed an excruciatingly slow death.

But she musn’t.

“Sunghoon, I’m fine…” She quietly says into his chest as she’s crushed tightly against it and Hoon looks down at her, brows knitting before he lifts his head back to the older. Wrath flashes across his face.

“I would have you reported to Sunoo if it isn’t for the fact that I’m already walking on eggshells in this residence,” he hisses with pure disdain before letting his gaze fall onto the girl once more. The second time, he notices the swell and small cut on her lip—a sight much too familiar for him who’s spent many passionate nights with women.

“You…you slept with her? Is that why you’ve got your nose to the skies?”

Jongeong snickers, a sneaky, smug sound as he nods with droopy eyes. “And she’s absolutely amazing. Such a wonderful performer, it made me think she’s a sinful little devil-” He pauses to set his intoxicated gaze onto the furiously flushed girl—reaching out but Sunghoon takes a step back with her. “Behind an angel face.”

Hearing his words, to listen and have his suspicions confirmed verbally, Heeseung feels an indescribable…rage bubble within him. It starts from his chest—boiling and steaming and reaching his head, inevitably causing him to burst.

“Hyung!” Jaeyun shouts in alarm when their oldest brother pounces on Jongseong, instantly straddling him onto the tiles before throwing fist after fist onto the younger’s sharp visages.

The drunken Jongseong is too blotto to properly defend himself and ends up bleeding from the nose and mouth—Heeseung’s ruthless blows proving to be not only quick but fatal too.

Sunghoon quickly spins on his heels, shielding (y/n) from witnessing the gruesome scene yet makes no attempt to calm the fight—neither does Jaeyun.

Because despite not taking an active part in turning Seong into a pulp, they both feel indiff—no, delighted and relieved to see him being bruised and battered.

After all, how dare he? To touch (y/n) when they themselves haven’t? How dare he attempt to covet her on his own?

How dare he let himself be greedy, even when all of them are too?

Unfortunately for them, their entertainment is cut short by the entrance of another noble, one whom (y/n) have been awfully keen on meeting.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jungwon asks with a stiffness and volume that suggest composed authority.

He needs not to shout. The power he holds is enough to subjugate the nobles, to mute their voices and bind their movements.

The abrupt silence is deafening and (y/n) listens to the only sound heard—Sunghoon's rapidly beating heartbeat. He's nervous, scared of Yang Jungwon. They all are.

And the knowledge of that makes the corners of her mouth lift and body shiver with thrill. He's here, the master puppeteer she needs.

Sunghoon feels her tremble, misunderstanding it as a sign of fear and his arms encase her further—hoping to comfort her whilst also quelling his own anxiety.

Jungwon arches a brow, a look of displeasure formed as his tongue runs across his right molars. "Why the abrupt quietness? Where did all that vigor go, hyungs?"

Heeseung clears his throat as he reluctantly frees Jongseong's collar from his forceful grip, leaving him sprawled and wounded on the floor. "It is nothing. Just...a small disagreement."

Won runs a scrutinizing gaze up and down his figure before at the others who divert their eyes away from the noble of higher ranking and finally, his stare fixes onto the girl securely held in Hoon's toned, muscular arms. "Why is she here?"

"She just stopped by to deliver us refreshments," Jaeyun chimes and gestures to the tray of biscuits. "She has nothing to do with the argument."

"You do know that if Sunoo hyung were to discover of this, you and Sunghoon hyung would be in a position much precarious than you already are, don't you?" Won asks and the older nods meekly. "Then why do I see neither of you attempting to cease the fight?"

The mentioned two grow stiff at this, both their mind and body as they're unable to muster up a logical and excusable reason.

How can they say that the reason they did nothing is because they were jealous of Jongseong? That they wanted him to be maimed to the point of no return for touching what is theirs? Of course, they each have a twisted and different belief regarding their ownership of (y/n)—each thinking that they are more deserving of (y/n) than the other.

It's laughable.

"She should not be here. Sunoo hyung will only grow more agitated than he already is if he were to find out," Jungwon sighs out exasperatedly and turns to the girl, a hand reaching out to her. "Come with me. I'm sure the maids have gone to inform the host of this...shameful and disappointing occurrence. It's best that you are absent when he comes to check."

(y/n) stares at his palm, wordless and expression ambiguous. To get a man with a character like Jungwon, what is the best approach?

Should she be unconditionally obedient and bend to his every whim? Or should she be rebellious—denying and challenging his overwhelming authority that he so very much holds pride in?

Then again, why not both?

She accepts his hand, sliding hers onto it with the softest of touches and just when Jungwon's victorious grin begins to form and fingers start to curl around hers, she pulls away.

His face falls instantly as he brings his rounded, confused eyes to the girl who's now clutching onto Sunghoon's arm like a fearful feline—much to Sunghoon's pleasure, if he is to be honest.

"How am I meant to trust and follow you? I don't know who you are," (y/n) says with deep skepticism as well as a light furrow, a striking difference to the others who wear miens of shock and fright.

Did she just say she does not recognise Yang Jungwon? The son to the prestigious, mighty noble family only second in line of power aside from royalty? If it was any other person, their head would be flying with a swing of a sword and body burnt at stake for all to see as a fair warning.

Sunghoon quickly grapples her shoulders as he looks down to her with widened, frantic eyes before back at the younger yet more prominent figure in high society. "It seems she has not been thoroughly educated seeing as how she is still ignorant to the knowledge regarding the aristocracy. It seems Sunoo has been too occupied with his household responsibilities to acquire her a tutor."

Jaeyun and Heeseung both nod their heads in agreement while Jongseong remains sprawled and inert on the floor, unconscious from their oldest's aggression.

Jungwon shifts his sharpened gaze from Hoon to the others, seeing the panic and plead for his mercy—a shocking display as their desperation is not for themselves—but for the girl who, unlike the others, remain composed and still as she stares right at him. So bold and reckless. His brows knit but he quickly clears his throat before straightening his posture with a deep breath.

"Of course, she is not to blame," he says with strained politeness. "My name is Yang Jungwon, second son of the renowned Yang Ducal Family. I am also a childhood friend of the host, your saviour, Kim Sunoo. Will this be ample enough of information for you to deem me trustworthy for now?"

All eyes dart to the lone maiden who continues her silence for a good few seconds before finally, slipping away from Sunghoon's reluctant grip to approach Jungwon.

No other words are exchanged with the others as the two stride out the room, arm in arm, with the noble guiding her away.

"Tell me, (y/n)," Jungwon starts without so much as a glance to the addressed. "What prompted for such an argument to transpire?"

His beautiful dark eyes trail towards the girl and he sees her reticence from her nervous blinks and bite onto her bottom lip. A smug grin stretches to reveal his dimple as he now triumphs in his success of unnerving her who was previously so brazen.

"It is merely a drunken fight. Jongseong have had a little too much to drink and Heeseung sought to quell his outbursts. The others were afraid that their intervention would lead to more troubles thus why they remained at the sides," (y/n) answers while deliberately avoiding the main reason for the fight: her. "It is just that."

Undoubtedly, Jungwon is not fooled. He has been friends with those rotten nobles for as long as he can remember to know that Jongseong is not one to have violent drunk habits. Something, or someone, must have caused such a chaos. "Is that so? I take it that there is no reason for you to lie to me but I can't help from wondering if it truly is as simple as you say."

"As you have said, there is no reason for me to be untruthful," (y/n) concurs.

"Agreed. So why do I feel as though you are hiding something from me?" He accuses. The teasing yet, predatory cadence of his tone acting as a warning—an indirect but clear message for her to tell him the full story or there will be consequences.

And yet, she manages to shock him once more with her response. Turning her head to him, her brows knit and stare hardens enough to reveal a sliver of her displeasure. "Why are you so eager to know? What benefit will it bring for you? It has passed and you will not be able to change anything even if you were to discover what caused it."

Jungwon grins upon noticing the falter of facade. The past few days he has seen her, she was always so gentle, sweet—a truly angelic soul but he knows better. To be able to effectively have his brothers wrapped around her dainty fingers—to have them begging for her, to have them pursue and continue to with unwavering interest—she needs to be more than just a naive, kind soul. She needs to be smart. Manipulative. And maybe even...twisted as they are, in a way, if not more.

"I merely am curious. There is no sin in that, is there?" He sings after, almost in a purr as delight fills him at her new character.

Their gazes are fixed, boring into one another and her rosy lips part to speak.

"Curiousity kills the cat."

"But, I am not a cat."

"True, however-" she starts and her scrutinizing gaze wanders his face, tracing his features with silent judgement before her lips pull to a small smile—surprising him. "You look like one. A cat."

His smug, confident thoughts turn silent at this, upturned eyes falling back to their original shape and jaw tightens.

What does she mean by that? Was that...a threat? Was she, in a way, warning him not to pry further or an impending doom will follow? She?

Insignificant she?

Worthless, untitled and nameless she?

How mindless. Brazen. Irritatingly... amusing. So very entertaining, it leaves him wanting to see more.

"I believe this is far enough. Thank you for your company and care, your grace," (y/n) suddenly says and he takes note of the lack of frigidity and impishness that she portrayed before—now returned to carry that air of naivety and sweet innocence as she bows politely. "Until we see each other again."

And with that she departs without a single glance back or hesitation and Jungwon finds himself transfixed until her figure disappears around a corner.

He gasps quietly, unaware of his own behaviour and clears his throat before hasting away to the other direction.

Meanwhile, (y/n) grins to herself as she recalls his diverse expressions in her head. Jungwon's so easily taken aback and rattled for such a renowned aristocrat. That's the thing with powerful people—so accustomed to others giving them their unconditional respect and bending to their every will that they sometimes forget that there are those who will not be subservient as how they expect them to be.

That there are others who can choose to challenge their authority and it riddles the nobles sometimes, unable to properly react and believe such truth.

Truly, the only naive and ignorant here is Yang Jungwon himself.

—

Riki stands outside the ballroom with his hand holding the handle in contemplation.

Is this the right choice? Or is it just a waste of time? It brings him no advantage whatsoever to find out more about her. After all, even if he were to discover that (y/n) is not as pristine as she is and instead, a vile, wicked with Riki believes her to be, none of his brothers will trust him.

With them being so enraptured by the girl, they'll simply think he is telling fibs, giving no weight whatsoever to his words.

Still, Riki finds himself pulling the door open since he is in fact, already at the agreed venue. But he doesn't expect to be so quickly paralyzed—not of fear, no, but more of...mesmerized by her beauty—within one foot in.

There, within the massive, empty ballroom is the dancing maiden who is adorned in soft fabric of silky white and a sheer white scarf that she uses as a prop.

Holding it in her hands, she performs immaculately as she hums an eerie yet, mystical tune that echoes within the four tall walls of the chamber—resounding and hypnotising like a siren's song.

Every single sway, bend and twirl are executed with perfection, with elegance and precision that rivals those that are already masters at choreography. Her hair flows and drapes beautifully alongside the thin fabric that she grasps in her hands—as if able to control their movements and they wave and float so gracefully that Riki's certain she must have used a kind of sorcery.

Her movements are akin to the flow of water. Sometimes slow and calm and yet so sharp and fierce at others however, they all blend so seamlessly. She not only is a virtuoso in the arts of dance, but she herself, is the masterpiece.

Riki's plush lips part as he breathes deep and slow. His sharp eyes widened slightly as she stares at her with pure awe. She glows. She undeniably is otherworldly.

"Riki?" Her soft voice echoes when she speaks and even the sound itself is spellbinding to him. He remains still as she approaches him who's still standing at the door and (y/n) tilts her head with subtle bemusement. "Why have you not entered yet? Come."

Unalike his previous hostility to the girl, he continues to be silent and relenting when she gently holds his hand to bring him further into the room.

She uses no force whatsoever as his feet seem to move on their own.

"Will you guide me?" (y/n) asks and looks up at him whose gaze has never once left her from the very moment he stepped into the ballroom. "Sunoo says that to learn ballroom choreography and etiquette is of most importance. Unfortunately, with him so busy with his responsibilities, I have not been able to sharpen my dance."

Riki says nothing at first and his hand naturally finds its way to her waist, momentarily surprising her before his other hand leads one of hers to rest on his shoulder. "I shall help you."

And that he does.

His change in character takes (y/n) aback. She did not expect him to be so easy to tame when he was so adamant against her before. But it seems to her know that he's merely a young lord desperate for the love and attention he is so deeply deprived of.

And there's nothing more fun to (y/n) than to indulge in his simple little wishes to gain his trust and affections, to make him lean on her and to be the first he searches for in times of need—just to completely vanish. Oh, how delicious his agony will be for her.

"Thank you for teaching me," (y/n) says after they've finished their lesson and Riki, like for the most of their time together in the ballroom, remains silent and only nods. "You do have commendable skills in choreography.”

Riki’s heart skips a beat at her compliment paired with that little cheeky smile that she wears and he has to momentarily move his eyes away, hiding his shyness.

(y/n)’s smile widens at this, finding delight at his crumbling walls but then a knock at the door steals their attention.

A maid bows to a perfect angle, hands on her centre abdomen before she stands back up straight. “Madam (y/n), Lord Sunoo have asked for your presence in his study.”

Riki furrows at this as mild jealousy imbues. It’s unfair how Sunoo is the only one allowed to summon (y/n) whenever and wherever he wants. But the younger quickly pushes the thought away at the realization that he’s beginning yo hold affection for the girl.

“Thank you for telling me. I shall make my way soon,” (y/n) replies and the servant bows again before departing, leaving (y/n) and the noble alone once more. “Thank you once more for being such a patient tutor. I will show you my gratitude some other day soon.“

‘Patient?’ The word echoes in the noble’s mind. Such a rare praise for him to be graced upon.

He focuses back to the girl when she offers a small curtsy before rushing the door with nimble, soundless steps. It still amazes him how she can seem to levitate.

The door swings open in her hold but she stops just as it widens to a gap wide enough—turning around to smile at him and eyes scintillate.

“You have very warm and gentle hands, Lord Riki. It seems I was wrong to believe you were a completely stoic and cold figure,” she comments lastly and throws in a small, soft chuckle before finally slipping through the space.

Riki stands still, dumbfounded and heart races fervently in his chest. He looks down at his shoes as his adam apple bobs in his throat, nervously swallowing at the realization of what’s becoming of him.

What’s blooming within him for (y/n).

And so he wears a mien of displeasure, rejecting the idea as he approaches the doors. ‘Preposterous.’

But the blush that dusts his cheeks tell no lie.

It doesn’t take long for (y/n) to arrive at Sunoo’s study and the moment she entered, she’s instantly wrapped within the warm embrace of his arms.

“I missed you. I missed you so dearly, so much,” he whispers earnestly against her head before pressing a long, affectionate kiss on her temple. “The days without your presence felt so long and torturous. I felt my sanity fleeting.”

(y/n) can’t help the giggle that emits and she reciprocates his touch with one of her own—caressing the back of his head as her fingers play with the hair tickling his nape.

Her voice is pure music to his ears, the most melodic of tunes and he purrs—nuzzling deeper into her hair and pressing her tight against his bod. The warmth from her figure makes him melt and he brings them to the couch whilst still intertwined.

Sitting her on his lap, Sunoo rests his hand on her thigh while the other gently combs through her hair that drapes down her back.

“Is your work finished?” (y/n) asks, looking at him who gazes at her with oozing endearment.

He nods, meeting her eyes and pupils dilate as his heart swells with overflowing adoration for the girl. “Finally. Now, I can spend my days with you without interruption.”

The air in the room feels light and almost infused with a sort of aromatherapy the moment she entered, untangling every knot in his exhausted muscles and fogging his brain to the point of blissful dumbness.

His eyes see nothing but her, ears hear nothing but her and mind thinking of her and only her. He’s consumed by her in every possible manner and he will not have it any other way.

“Why do you look at me like so?” (y/n) asks and lifts her hand to cup his cheek which he leans himself further into.

“Like what?”

The girl begins to stroke his cheek and he shudders at the feeling, a shaky sigh leaving past his rosy lips at the delightful sensation he has craved for so long.

“As if… you would lay down your life for me,” she finishes and he almost snorts at her words—not of ridicule, but of amusement that she only thinks it. At this point, he thought he has made it clear enough for her to know that he will.

That he will lay down his life, his everything, if it meant that it is for her.

“(y/n), I have surrendered to you, body and soul,” Sunoo declares without a single pinch of hesitation and he wraps his fingers around her arm softly before pressing his lips onto the inner wrist.

The sensation is warm and an unfamiliar fuzziness erupts from the girl’s chest and travels to every end of her limbs. Especially so when Sunoo’s other hand cups her chin and their eyes meet. “I’ve grown to love you, (y/n). So deeply and so intently, that I now see no future without you in it. If you were to disappear, I will, with no doubt perish.”

His words ignite something within the siren and her deep, searching eyes spark with an enigmatic quality.

The silence in the room is deafening aside from their soft exhales and inhales. The atmosphere begins to shift from wholesome lightheartedness to a tantalizing provocativeness.

Sunoo’s breaths hitch when (y/n)’s gaze flickers to his lips and he stills—hands resting on his sides now curling into the cushions they sit on and heart beating rapidly in its cage, almost as if it aims to break from its confines.

“(y/n),” he mewls after a while of inertia from the other, the suspense beginning to kill him as his throat dries and body trembles with need. “(y/n)…”

The girl titters warmly at his desperation, finding him absolutely lovely as he quivers ever so slightly under her and knuckles turned white from his fierce clutch on the couch.

She can’t deny him any longer—leaning forward to his lips and he meets her halfway eagerly.

A choked moan escapes him at the contact and his arms tremble as they lift to wrap around her waist. Pretty long lashes flutter as his eyelids close to relish in the moment, in her.

He gasps into the kiss when her tongue darts between his lips to explore his mouth and his brain nearly goes into short circuit, almost shutting down from the amount of pleasure and bliss he’s being filled with.

(y/n) smiles against him—hand trailing from around his neck down to his chest which causes his bod to flex and tighten in response and he whimpers when feeling her fingers trace the waistband of his trousers.

Despite being so out of breath, he refuses to pull away and (y/n) has to lean herself back just so they’d separate—immediately gaining a whine of disappointment from the noble.

“You’re so beautiful…” (y/n) praises, voice wispy and Sunoo groans with contentment at that. His pupils are blown out and they’re especially visible due to the honey tone of his foxy eyes and it fills the siren with satisfaction. “My beautiful, sweet boy…”

Her words only feed to his hunger and he’s back to chasing after her lips—prodding his nose against her cheek as he pants, craving for her taste once more yet fearful to do so without her permission.

“I’m yours, all yours,” he breathes out in feeble yet heavy mewls as his lips latch onto her shoulder, kissing every exposed surface to satiate his fervent hunger for her.

(y/n) hums and she pulls him closer, eliciting an excited moan from the lad who instantly begins to savor everything of her. Burying his nose in the crook of her neck and licking stripes of her skin—he’s addicted to her.

He lowers her onto the couch with slow, gentle motions, letting her head rest on the pillowy armchair as he sandwiches her into the couch. A soft grunt escapes him at the pressure against his hardened core and (y/n) notices instantly—feeling the stiffness as he instinctively bucks his hips forward.

Sunoo bites his lip in panic and face mantles with shame. "I-I'm sorry. I just..."

He quietens at (y/n)'s soothing shushes as her hand gently strokes his back, causing him to quiver more violently than before.

"It's alright, Sunoo. You’re alright," she assures and she lifts her head slightly, letting her lips graze the shell of his ear to which he mewls at. "Use me."

At her permit, his eyes widen briefly but soon after, he finds himself moving—frantic and desperate—and rutting against her like a poor dog.

(y/n) grins at this, whispering sweet nothings into his ear which easily drives him over the edge and eyes roll to the back of his skull as his jaw falls slack—letting out pretty little sounds and chanting her name like a mantra.

So utterly pathetically lovely.

—

That night.

Heeseung sits on the couch in his room. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he chews on it contemplatively, eyes drift left to right between rapid blinks and he lets out deep exhale.

Should he tell Sunoo about Jongseong sleeping with (y/n)? If he does so, then Jongseong will obviously face punishment—which Heeseung hopes to be dire enough so he can never meet with the girl ever again—and that will obviously benefit him in pursuing (y/n). One less rival to worry about.

However, it is also a risk. Sunoo has been noticeably volatile as of late, and (y/n) seems to be a constant catalyst for it. His attention and senses are piqued whenever it concerns her and even just letting her name roll off his tongue might bring unfavourable consequences.

A groan leaves his throat and his head falls against the couch, weighty from the stress.

But he wants to rid off Jongseong. The fact that the latter's already spent a passionate evening with (y/n) when she's still guarded around him shows how greatly disadvantaged he is. And even more so with (y/n) seeming to have a personal level of dislike with him.

Knock, knock.

A frustrated sigh escapes as he drags himself to the door and opens it with a harsh swing.

"You seem distressed. Would it be presumptuous of me to think it involves me?" (y/n) asks with a brow raised and tone mocking.

Heeseung stands stiff with doe eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected visit, especially at such a scandalous hour. "No... I-I was thinking of you."

"Your honesty is endearing," she coos and strides into the room without bothering to ask for his permission. She sits herself onto the edge of his bed and crosses her legs and arms—eyes darting to him a and she furrows. "Would you rather have a servant see me in your chambers at this unholy hour? Close the door."

The owner of the room does as ordered, careful to ensure that it's securely locked before approaching the girl who's so casually waiting for him.

It unnerves him somehow—how he's the one anxious and jittery at being in one same room with the maiden despite it being his own. Not to mention the clear power dynamic between them, her being supposedly more subservient and meek.

The realisation of that irks him now and his fingers curl to form fists at his sides.

"What brings you here?" He asks directly, stoic and stern to feign control.

"To ease your worries," (y/n) replies sweetly and Heeseung's hair rises at it—both aroused and yet fearful of how angelic she can sound despite the wicked slyness that lies within.

He gulps. “Wha…What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you the answer to your questions: don’t.”

The noble furrows with confusion at this before finally understanding what she means, plush lips parting in awe before it tilts to a condescending smirk—brow arching as a scoff escapes. “And why should I heed your words?”

(y/n) stares and shakes her head softly. “It is simple a suggestion. If you wish to go against it then do so. However, I cannot assure you that you would remain untouched.”

Her ambiguous statement makes him tilt his head and she continues. Leaning back with her arms by her sides to prop her figure, she too drops her head slightly backwards to look up at him.

“Do you know why Sunghoon was almost removed from the property?” She starts and Heeseung shakes his head, belatedly realizing that they’ve only truly heard the full story of Jaeyun but not the younger lad. “It is because he offered a proposition to Sunoo—to transfer me to a corrective facility to fix my ‘insanity.’ As solicitous and gracious as it is, why do you think Sunoo was so negative towards it?”

Hee frowns, growing more puzzled at her riddle and what she is leading to, only able to shake his head side to side.

“Simply, it is because he interpreted it as Sunghoon trying to steal me away. It is the same with Jaeyun where he understands his little act of defiance as him coveting me, to attempt to win my affections. So you see, dear Sunoo perceives all of you as his enemies. You are no exception,” (y/n) finishes and Heeseung stumbles backwards at her abrupt rise.

Taking small steps forward which leads to his retreat, the back of his knees eventually touch the cushions of his couch before ultimately stumbling onto it. He gasps when (y/n) climbs atop him—legs straddling his lap as she cages his head between her hands that rest on the seat’s header.

“You’re a smart boy, are you not?” She taunts and despite it meaning to be of insult to him, he finds himself perking—heart racing and breaths hitching in anticipation and want. “Then, I believe you will make the right choice, Heeseung.”

The mention of his name with her tongue makes him eager, wishing to hear it more and more and his hand travels upwards to gently hold her arm. “At least, tell me why. Why are you so against me telling Sunoo? Will it not be more favourable for you to have me removed—seeing as how you don’t seem to very wlecoming of me? Or do you hold so much affection for Jongseong that you fear having him separated?”

Saying it aloud pierces a shard into his chest.

'She does not hold any affection for me. She does not... want me.'

The reminder of that pains him so even when he tries his hardest to reject it. He refuses to succumb, to be defeated and crushed by the weight of this disappointment and grave hurt but with every passing second, it only grows.

He thought his feelings for (y/n) was mere infatuation—short-lived and cheap obsession, something that will dissipate within a few days—but it's clear now that what he feels is much more real and complex than he ever expected.

Heeseung truly likes her. He's besotted, enamoured and it's excruciating to know that his feelings will never be reciprocated.

"What are you saying?" (y/n)'s airy, enchanting voice distracts his from his thoughts and he's made to meet her eyes by her hands that cup his jaw to lift it. Seeing her however, only fuels the flames of anguish in his heart and his cheeks flush as eyes water.

"Am I not correct? Is what I say not true?" He manages to ask through his cracking voice and he purses his lips after to quieten the sobs that threaten to escape.

"Yes...but also no," (y/n) replies and Heeseung frowns, confused and even more so when she lowers slightly to plant a fond, lingering kiss on his forehead. When she pulls away, he's staring up at her with eyes glossed over and lips parted with surprise. "It is true that I hold affection for Jongseong but, it is untrue that I am unwelcoming of you. If anything, I am most inclined towards you."

"You jest," Heeseung denies, brows knitting but the stardust in his eyes belie his actions—secretly hoping she will refute him. “If you mean what you say, then you would not have been so cold to me while you are so sweet and loving to the others.”

His near-sulky response through his pouty lips make her giggle and seeing it ignites the hope Hee holds.

“Silly, aren’t you? Have you not yet understood? The reason why I am so cold to you, and only you is because you are the only one I truly am comfortable with. You are the only one whom I trust enough to reveal my true self—you, Heeseung, are special.”

The sparks in his eyes multiply like stars in the black night sky, twinkling brighter and bigger, after hearing her explanation.

Can it be…can she really be telling the truth?

Before he can ponder on the thought, he’s rendered speechless, brainless by the chaste kiss that (y/n) graces him and he gasps into it.

“Again,” he breathes out after she pulls away but shr presses her finger against his mouth when he attempts to push forward. “Please. I’ve been dreaming for this day for so long. Can I not have just one more?”

“The type of man you are, you will not be satisfied with a kiss,” (y/n) slurs provocatively and Heeseung’s adam apple bobs anxiously and excitedly.

She stands, hands now behind her back as she looks down tenderly at the panting man who’s clearly struggling in his seat—and trousers. “As much as I am fond of you, I only grant rewards to those who deserve it. Do you think you are deserving?”

His lips part and quiver, wanting to answer and yet unsure of what to say.

(y/n) smirks before turning away from the young lord whose anxiety only grows at seeing her departure.

It is no wonder that she can only take one full step before suddenly being halted by a pair of hands gripping the back of her long skirt with vehement determination.

“I deserve it! I do! I shall do as you say and bring the knowledge of your affairs with Jongseong to my grave! I w-will not say a word so please, please,” Heeseung begs for her approbation with chest heaving violently from heavy breaths. “Reward me with your affections. D-did you not say that to you, I…I am special?”

(y/n)’s spine tingles with anticipation and delight at the vulnerability his portrays—turning around to set her eyes on the other who's settled on his knees, dead set on having her even at the cost of his own pride.

She tuts in pretense before hovering her hand above his head to which he lifts himself slightly to touch his crown against it, letting out a shuddered breath at her warmth. "Can I trust you?"

Heeseung nods vigorously with eyes wide and fingers taut around the fabric shielding her legs. His hair bounces and he crawls forward to nuzzle his face against them. "Yes, yes, you can! Just please, I yearn for you so gravely. My mind has been filled with nothing but thoughts of you. I've made it a habit of mine to stroll in the garden every day in hopes that I could meet you, or even catch the slightest glimpse of you and yet, I never could. It's driven me half-mad. "But after hearing that you've shared an evening with Jongseong, my rationality have been tested and the thread of sanity slipped between my fingers much easily than I ever expected. I've never felt this way to anyone ever before and I struggle—I am tortured each day without having your presence, your attention despite knowing that you've bestowed it upon Sunoo so unconditionally. I—You...you've bewitched me, (y/n). And yet, I find it so grand, so beautiful as it is excruciating."

(y/n) only stares at the poor, pitiable vile noble—watching as his glassy eyes pool the longer she remains silent. To him, her quiet is devasting. He interprets it as rejection and despite being a man who can easily obtain what he wants—with or without consent—he finds himself needing her approval. He craves to hear her validation.

And (y/n), as always, knows that. She's aware of how poor little Heeseung is actually a sheep beneath his wolf' clothing. He acts so tough and cold to remain untouchable, to remind those around him that he is a man of power—a snap of his fingers and they'll be sent behind bars or stripped off their clothes.

Unfortunately, the more he plays this daunting, dominating character, the more he forgets his true skin and how truly vulnerable he is. And once that shiny armour of bravado is torn off his figure, he is left bare, naked for all to see.

Much like he is now.

"My poor Heeseung. All this time I have been so aloof with you to conceal my admiration but it seems I have grown overboard. Look at you," she coos as she too joins him on the floor. His eyes never leave hers and his head lowers to now be face-to-face as he sniffles.

With a nose as red as Rudolph and eyes as clear and vulnerable like a prey against predator—he is truly a sight to behold.

"It is only fair that I make it up to you, hm?" She asks wispily and once again, his head bobs violently, eager to be rewarded and she grins—cupping his cheek with one hand and gently pulling his head back by the hair to expose his neck. "Of course, anything my love wants, he shall have."

'My love.'

The endearing term echoes in his head and he whimpers at how pretty it sounds. How pretty she sounds. And along with her hot, pillowy lips pressed against his throat, it doesn't take much time for him to emit a guttural, rumbling groan before he bursts right then and there—writhing and convulsing in her hold as she continues to devour him until the break of dawn.

After all, she is hungry—and vain, iniquitous men just happens to be her favourite delicacy.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 finally the second's part here, so sorry it took so long!! (┬_┬) i'm sorry to those who i said it would come out last two weeks ago, i hope this chap's entertaining enough to make up for it!! anyways, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog for some motivation!! but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

taglist for this series is open—send an ask to be included ♡

@angelicyouth @lilyuwon @sakanelli-afc @lakoya @clara12o @heeseung-min @inkpot-winters @lilikisuki @randomanothercreature @laylasbunbunny @hveanlyanqelic

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[forever-rogue]

Hellooo 😄 I love your blog and your fics so much! You’re very very talented and you’re feeding my tlou clown brain lmao. If you’re still taking requests for Joel, I think a fic with joel fussing over his shy girl after a close call with a clicker would be super cute. He’d be super worried and she would be the one doing the comforting bc dammit he’s lost so much already almost losing her leaves him emotional.

AN | Aww, but I love this. Just a whole lot of fluff and sweetness! 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; TLOU typical violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were trying your best to be as quiet as possible, which happened to be quite a challenge when you were walking through the woods. It was impossible to know exactly what was lying ahead, so all you could was to be as alert and cautious as possible, 

And you were positive that you were doing a good job…until you stepped on a thick branch and it snapped loudly under your feet. You swallowed thickly as you froze, looking around wildly to make sure nothing heard you or decided to come out and attack you. You know, just the average afternoon in this world.

As you got ready to move on, deciding that nothing was coming after you, the unmistakable sound of a clicker. You were trying to decide if you should run away in panic, call for Joel, or try and handle it on your own. 

In the midst of your dilemma, the clicker made its appearance and was running towards at a speed that it really shouldn’t have possessed. Fuck. 

Your shaking hand was reaching for the knife that was strapped to your thigh as you tried to walk backwards. But, as fortune would have it, your foot caught on a tree root and you tripped over it, stumbling and landing on your back. It was rapidly lunging at you and your first instinct was to hold up the knife and wave it around to try and get a good stab in. 

But before you even had to worry about attempting to stab its brain, a gunshot rang out. The frantic scrambling of the clicker ceased and it crumbled to the ground, landing on your feet. Your entire body was shaking as you scrambled out from under its grasp, dropping the knife as you tried to keep the tears from spilling over and crying out loud.

“Honey,” you heard Joel’s voice before you saw him. At this point, your tears pearled up and ran down your cheeks as he dropped to his knees and looked you over. There was nothing but pure worry on his face as he looked you over. You shook your head, silently letting him know that you were okay and had escaped unscathed, “are you okay? What happened?”

“I-I’m okay,” you promised in between sniffles as he took your face in his hands and gently brushed your tears away, “I stepped on a branch and it heard me and then came at me so fast. I tripped over a root a-and it was coming at me. You saved me.”

“Shhh,” he gently shushed you as he pulled you into his arms, hugging onto you tightly as you melted into his arms, “you’re okay. I’ve got you - I’ve always got you, baby.”

“I thought it was going to get me,” you buried your face into his chest, trying to slow your cries down, “I-I thought it was going to-”

“Hey,” he rubbed your back in soothing circles, trying to get that horrible image and idea out of your mind. He didn’t even want to think about it…it might have been the worst thought that he could have had, “don’t worry about that. It didn’t happen, it won’t ever happen.”

“Okay,” he felt you nod, your tears wetting the collar of his shirt. It didn’t matter to him though, he would have taken a million wet shirts as long as he knew that you were okay, “you’re right. Nothing bad will ever happen when we have each other.”

“Exactly,” he promised, pulling back so he could press gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead before stopping at your lips, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could feel his eyes on you. Again. 

It seemed you could never go far anymore without him watching you, making sure that you were okay. You looked up from where you were sitting near the dying fire, offering him a small smile before you turned your attention to the smoldering embers. Once upon a time ago, you would have been making s’mores. 

Joel made sure to check on Ellie who was lying in her sleeping bag and reading a book she had brought along before making his way over to you. He sat down on the log next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you leaned into his side. 

“You doin’ alright?” he whispered softly as you let out a small sigh. It had been a couple days since the incident and he almost hadn’t let you out of his sight since. You shrugged and Joel’s arm instinctively tightened around you, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shifted so you could look at him, a pout on your lips. You knew he wouldn’t let it go until he got a decent answer; his stubbornness was one of the things you loved most about him, but sometimes it was overwhelming, “I just feel bad, I dunno.”

“Whatever for?”

“Worrying you,” you admitted shyly, “making you feel like you constantly have to look out for me now. There’s so much else to worry about, including Ellie, and now you have to add me to that list.”

“Is that really what you think?” he asked, an eyebrow perking up in surprise as you found it hard to meet his eyes, “you think all I do is worry about you?”

“I don’t think that’s all you do,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried - a vain attempt - to keep from getting too emotional, “I just feel like…I guess I’m just like a burden to you.”

“You are a lot of things,” he laughed softly and the change of emotion caught you off guard, “but a burden you are not. You are anything but a burden, baby.”

“Are you-”

“I’m positive,” he pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up at his silliness, “all I’m doing is looking out for my baby, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled against his finger before wrapping yours around his wrist and gently pulling your hand away, “I’ll protect you too if you ever need it.”

“I know,” his smile was breathtakingly beautiful; you tried to coax it out of him as much as possible, “I know you’ll kick everyone’s ass if you need to.”

“Duh.”

“Can you guys stop being so gross and lovey?” Ellie groaned at the top of you before she tossed an acorn over at the two of you, “some of us are trying to read.”

“We love you too, Ellie Bean,” you said softly and despite her words, you spotted the smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel insisted that he wasn’t overstressed or worried about you. But that had been a lie; he’d always been big on protecting you but after your close incident with the clicker, that urge to keep you safe increased ten-fold. 

And to be quite honest…you didn’t totally hate it. The primal part of your brain melted at the idea of Joel looking out for you and protecting you. You were his sweet, shy girl, he’d always keep you safe. 

“Are you warm enough?” his sleepy, gruff voice cut through your late night thoughts as he pulled closer into his body. You were all curled up into him, his frame practically draped all over you and his smell comforting. How could you not be warm enough?

“Mhmm,” you shuffled around in his arms so you could turn to face him. You offered up your own sleepy smile as you captured his lips in a soft kiss. You liked kissing Joel, a lot, but there was something about late night sleep kisses that always made your heart melt, “plenty warm and toasty, handsome.”

“You’d tell me if you were cold, right?” you could pick out that tone of worry in his voice immediately. You chuckled softly and nodded as best as you could, “I don’t want you to freeze.”

“I’m not going to freeze,” you huffed in amusement, “you’re like a radiator anyway.”

“Just want to make sure you’re okay,” his pretty eyes were already closing again, his arm wrapped around your waist and his fingers tracing aimless shapes into your soft skin, “can’t have you suffering.”

“I’m not,” you promised, “now hush so we can both get back to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel fretted over you, looking over every inch of what you were wearing. You tried to wave him off but he was having none of it. His hands were on your shoulders and his brow furrowed as you tried to contain the grin on your face.

“Are you sure you’re all geared up?” he was asking himself more than anything, a concentrated expression on his face. He looked over your shirt, and sweater, along with the knife on your thigh, the flashlight clipped to your backpack strap, and checked to make sure your boots were properly laced. 

Once he was satisfied with his look over, he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. A reverent little smile was tugging up the corner of your mouth as you studied those pretty honey brown eyes, “well, tell me, am I properly geared up?”

“I suppose you’ll do,” he tried his best to keep his voice serious but you could hear the amusement, “you comfortable, baby? Not too hot, not too cold, everything secured?”

“Affirmative captain,” you beamed and the sight was almost enough to make his heart feel all warm and fuzzy, “what about you, Joel? Got everything you need, all comfortable and ready for action? Which hopefully won’t happen…”

“I’m all good,” he was quick to dismiss your worry but you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. You tutted at him, putting your hands on his shoulders and leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, “really, I-”

“No, no, no,” you narrowed your eyes at him, in malice in the look, only affectionate sternness. He held up his hands in mock surrender as you gave him a firm, satisfied nod, “you get to fret over me, so I get to do the same over you.”

“But there’s-”

“You should know better than to argue with your…what does he call you?” There was a shit -eating grin on Ellie’s face as she looked between the two of you. Joel had experienced one moment of panic and slipped up and she hadn’t let him live it down since, “mine? I think that’s what you called her. Don’t argue with your mine!”

“Ha ha,” he rolled his eyes at the younger girl but there was a pretty tinge of pink coloring his cheeks as you laughed at the two of them. He turned his attention back to you, opening and closing his mouth a few times, “I…didn’t. It just happened in the moment.”

“Lucky for you I like being called yours,” you playfully patted his cheek, “besides, I think labels at this day and age just feel so…weird? Arbitrary? Something like that.”

“It wouldn’t feel right calling you my girlfriend,” he agreed, “you’re so much more than that.”

“Consider me flattered,” you took a step back and gave him a coy little smile, “too bad I only think of you as my boyfriend.”

You turned on your heel as you trekked after Ellie, a spring in your step. You felt him staring after you, able to perfectly picture the expression on his face. 

“Wait -” he followed after you, easily catching up with you, “what do you mean just your boyfriend?”

“Relax,” you turned around so you were facing him and walking backwards, “it was just a joke, handsome. You’re so much more than just my boyfriend. You’re…well, I can’t really put it into words. But, if it’s any consolation, you’re everything to me.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” he snorted as you shook your head.

“I mean it, Joel Miller,” you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his, “I love you, handsome.”

“I love you, baby.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The rain had brought life back into the woods you were still working your way through; it was an oddly comforting thing. You broke off from Joel and Ellie once you were all settled for the evening and went down to the pond where you’d noticed a bunch of frogs start to come out.

You grinned as you made your way over to the edge, listening to the melodic croaking from all around you. This reminded you of all the times you’d done this as a kid - even as a young adult - before the world fell apart. It was something so simple, but so comforting. 

Despite the fact that the ground was muddy and wet, you plopped onto your bum and started watching the frogs and other creatures going about their little business. You had to repress your squeal of delight as some of the frogs came near you, and an even braver one jumped into your hand. 

“Hey there little buddy,” you held him up to your face so you could study him, grinning when he crooked softly at you, “it’s so good to see you too. I’m sure you must really like the rain.”

Almost as if he understood you, he made a few more sounds before settling himself in your palm. The sheer trust this little critter had in you made your heart ache; if only people could be like this. You like to believe in the kindness and good hearts of people, but the years had taught not to be so trusting. 

As if you were some sort of Disney princess, you spied a few bunnies coming out and hopping around, their little noses twitching happily. You remained still as you held out your hand in a silent invitation; you were even more surprised when the small bunny decided to take you up on it.

The chocolatey brown rabbit made its way over, sniffing your hand and studying you for a few moments before nudging his head against your hand. You let the small fluff ball take his time before finally petting him out of your own volition. 

“Hey friend,” you cooed softly, “you are too cute.”

He wiggled his way into your lap, already so trusting as you just beamed at him. You inhaled excitedly as you petted him, tears threatening to well up. It had been so long since you’d gotten to pet or touch any sort of animal. This was a moment that made the world feel much less terrifying and harsh than it was.

“I like you,” you picked him up and clutched him to your chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and velvety ears. You knew that if Joel was there in the moment, he’d chide you for getting so close to a dirty animal. But you didn’t care - not that at that moment.

You laid down, back on the damp ground but not a care in the world. Your new companion hopped all over your torso, chasing your hand for pets and rubbing its little face onto your skin. 

“That tickles,” you told him through giggles but the little bunny didn’t care. You started to play with him, laughing and squealing at how funny and happy he was, “you’re so cute, it’s not fair!”

You didn’t hear the footsteps running through the clearing until you heard his sharp call of your name. You startled at the sound and lifted your head off the ground to find Joel standing at the edge of the pond, chest rising and falling heavily as he stared at you. His face was an indiscernible mask as you held up your hand in a weak little wave.

“Hi,” you gave him a guilty little expression as your new friend also looked at Joel, “everything alright, my love?”

“I called for you,” his hands were on his hips as he walked over to you. You knew that stance all too well, “and you were gone. I’m walking around and looking for you when I heard what could be either crying or laughing. Naturally, my mind went to the worst possible conclusion. Especially after what happened not that long ago - you need to be more careful, baby.”

“Sorry,” your face flushed with warmth as you slowly sat up, gently holding onto the bunny, “I said I was going to the pond, I thought you’d heard me.”

“It’s alright,” he came over and crouched down so he was eye level with you. With a heavy sigh, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay. What are you even doing out here - it’s wet and cold.”

“Enjoying a slice of life,” you gestured around, “the frogs came out with the rain and I wanted to see them. I used to love seeing them as a kid. And then I met this little guy! He’s precious…I wish we could keep him.”

“You’re something else,” he shook his head with nothing but reverent fondness as he too touched the bunny’s ears, “but I’m glad you were able to find a little bit of peace. If things were different, I’d say we could keep him, but…”

“I know,” you smiled sadly at the creature, “it was nice while it lasted. Sorry buddy…I’m sure you’ll be happy to stay with your family.”

He nudged his nose against your finger, almost as if he could understand what you were saying. You set him back down and he started to hop away, but turned around before he disappeared and gave you one last look. You saw his little family waiting nearby for him. 

“Hey,” Joel gently tapped his fingers against your cheek, “it’ll be okay. One day we’ll get a pet in our own home.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” he took your hand in his much larger one and helped you to your feet. He pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, handsome.”

[platrom]

Infinity.

CHAPTER 1.

JJK x READER

SUMMARY: In every universe, Ryomen Sukuna will find you, whether it is by chance or not. But only time can tell if you awake to discover your doomed fate.

WARNINGS: sad tones, mentions of hard labor, the concubines are rude and abusive, mentions of mold, aguri is very playful, sukuna has a bride, reader gets beat up and belittled, reader is too aware but not too knowledgeable on their world, some heavy hints to Sukuna’s ultimate control over his people

MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

TAGLIST (slashed means could not be tagged): @xhoneymoonx134 @ofcqdesi

—taglist is open! if you would like to be added, please comment. :)

i. endless

The work gets easier the longer you do it. The constant bending of your knees, elbows, and back becomes almost natural the longer you spend dragging rotten mattresses, tossing dirty sheets, and folding those dreadful covers.

You’ve also learned that harsh, morbid environments like the living quarters of your fellow maids bring disgusting conditions to the rooms.

A certain type of fungi has begun to creep into the corners of the rooms and under the beds. You’ve found the darkness serves as an outstanding breeding ground for this fuzzy, green bacteria with speckles of white that act as pores.

The sight makes you sick to your stomach.

But a part of you wonders if the living quarters above for the men who kill the spirits and the king’s favored subordinates are bright with life. Maybe life grows there— maybe bonsais and cherry blossoms litter the windowstills and butterflies flutter inside and outside their rooms. Maybe creatures like rabbits and foxes settle inside when the sun is too warm, and the subordinates of Lord Sukuna get to relish in their presence.

“(Name)!” You turn your head, grasping the ends of the gray sheets and bunching them as you rise.

A beaming Aguri pops her head into the frame of the doorway. The end of her headband is falling from her hair, letting strands loose to rest against her cheeks. The ratty accessory was meant to be a pure, pristine white, but with years of cleaning soot and dust, it has become a murky grey, nearly a dirty black.

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning the kitchen? The cooks are out on their break,” you rub your cheek with the collar of your uniform. “Uraume won’t be pleased if she sees you here.”

“Uraume is never pleased no matter what I do,” she moves towards you, lunging at you when you begin to move up to meet her. Together, you both tumble into the pile of dirty bedsheets and pillows covers that decorate the floor. She giggles as you groan in pain. “As long as my duties get done on time, there shouldn’t be an issue.”

The back of your head throbs against the itchy material of threaded cloth. “If you say so, Aguri.”

She grins, smushing her head into the crook of neck. She inhales deeply, before releasing a slow breath.

“Are you smelling me?” you grab her shoulder, tugging at her sleeve in an attempt to remove her from your side. “What are you, a dog?”

Aguri makes no movement, but merely holds on tighter. When she speaks, her voice is quieter. “What if I was a hound? Like one of Lord Sukuna’s.”

“Why would you ever want that?” you frown. The absurd statement is not anything new from Aguri, but it is the tone she holds that sets you aback.

She doesn’t get quiet or melancholic often. Even when she spoke about the grimmer things in her life or her past, she didn’t dim as much as now.

“Maybe, I would be treated better,” she sighs. “You know, they always need those dogs. The blood-hunting ones that they send out to attack traitors or find enemies. And they feed them well— the chefs give them some of the nicest meat I’ve seen… but that stake isn’t very high.”

You understand. Meat is a rarity to the poor, but a normalcy to the rich. The wealthy gorge on the finest slices of beef, chicken, pork, and any fatty animal they can find.

The poor cannot eat anything but crumbs. Bread, if they can make it. Cheese if they can get a goat or trade for it. And for most, scraps of berries or bits of rotten vegetables tossed out serve as their only food source.

There are people outside who run into estate’s dumping grounds daily. You’ve watched as they fished out slivers of carrot peels or orange centers and devoured as much as they could.

They would be killed if they were caught. They would be humiliated by all the kingdom and even the town, despite how poor they are as well.

You’ve see the bodies, sometimes. In the kitchen with the staff, with Uraume holding the knife, cutting the limbs. The chefs look green with disgust at the sight of a body being torn, boiled, and seasoned. It’s a blessing that Lord Sukuna has designated Uraume to be his main chef when it comes to humans.

You’re not sure anyone truly human could handle it. But you know for a fact, Uraume is not. And neither is Lord Sukuna.

But you’re not sure what they are, either.

“It must be nice to be cared for,” you murmur, your hands threading into Aguri’s hair. “To be well fed, groomed, and treated like royalty. Their bedding must be nicer as ours. Made out of pure cotton and sewn with the finest of threads. Pure white, like the sheeps and bunnies in our dreams.”

Your fingers tug against tangles, curves, and bumps. It’s a comforting motion for you, and her. To feel the gentleness of another person, instead of the harsh treatment you both are constantly subjected to.

The hard labor, yelling, and constant threat of death. It’s overwhelming and drowning. It’s dispiriting and crushing. Most here die at their 20s. The average life expectancy is one’s early 40s.

It’s the stress that kills them the fastest. And the slaughtering of them in the masses, as well.

Aguri whines, kneeing you in the side. “Why did you stop? I was getting comfortable!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, before a pained smile grows on your face.

You wish she would never have to worry about her life. You wish you could protect Aguri with your life, and that would be enough.

“How about we sneak into the kitchen? I heard the head baker made some new pastries with a special strawberry cream.”

Aguri perks, staring at you with wide eyes. “Can we?”

You wink. “As long as we don’t get caught.”

In an instant, she tugs at your arm and pulls you up, sprinting out of the room.

Her laughter is all you need to match her pace.

I hope you stay like this forever, Aguri.

ii. bastion

Lord Sukuna marries Akazome Emon on the night of your birthday.

You have the pleasure of preparing for the ceremony. The tables, the food, and all the decorations are overseen by Uraume, while the maids of the estate fulfill the duty of beautifying the already breathtaking garden where the celebration will be held.

The wedding has no more than fifty guests. It’s small, for a king as powerful as him— but it’s fitting and understandable.

Lord Sukuna has enemies who drool at the chance to even brush shoulders with him. To be able to infiltrate his palace is a feat that no man or woman has ever achieved. All concubines are checked thoroughly and every servant goes through a lengthy process before they are admitted to work for the king.

But the news of his bride will spread quickly. The parchments will fly and the whispers of mothers will flood the ears of the neighboring kingdoms.

His Queen will become an immediate target as a way to crumble his spirit and overthrow his authority. Riots will begin in the streets, and wars will rebirth.

In a matter of hours, the world will be in chaos once Lord Sukuna marries his bride.

Though, a small voice in the back of your head believes that the king thrives in danger and destruction. It is the motto of the Sukuna estate.

You purse your lips, staring at the sheer sheets that line the wooden poles now cemented into the corners of the garden. Tree peonies line the ends of the box-like structure, while chrysanthemums are sparsely dispersed around the seats.

The gardeners are exceptional at their job, you crouch to inspect the flowers. Your eyes trace over the delicate ridges of the baby pink in the peonies, and the fluffs of white in their centers. They are beautiful, bright, and voluminous; fit for royalty.

The maids have gossiped about the bride’s bouquet after one of the florists had dropped the sketch of the design on the garden’s ground.

It appears that her bouquet will be filled with nippon daisies at the center and lavender rimming the daisies. It was an odd choice for a woman as exquisite as Akazome Emon to have such common flowers be the choice for her bouquet— especially for them to be the kinds of flowers the poorest of the kingdom eat.

You wonder if her choice of flowers mean something greater than just to look nice, but you’ll never know. The privilege of accessing books was never one you had.

It wasn’t like you could even read or write to begin with.

“Work faster, Uraume will be out soon! The ceremony must look spotless for our king,” the head maid is running around like a headless chicken, straightening creases and perfectly spacing the seats from each other. Maids back out of her way as she sways around, screaming orders at anyone who looks her way. The flock of you are sent scattering as guards begin to enter the grounds.

For such a wonderful day, the workers of the estate are tense and on edge.

“Did you hear that Lady Emon appointed Lord Sukuna’s other suitors as his concubines?” Two ladies veiled in crème colored robes brush past you as you adjust the deserts on the table. The material looks smooth and soft— like velvet. It’s a type of cloth you’ve heard Uraume describe to her seamstress about her robes. “For a future Queen, she is keen on throwing any woman she possibly can at the man who will bring her unlimited power.”

Along their necks lies an engraving of blood-red roses lined with heavy, black ink. When the ends of their robes rise, around their ankles rests a gold chain intertwined with bits of lavender.

They must be concubines.

The king was known to lavish his mistresses in the finest of jewels and clothes from raids against neighboring estates.

“What are you looking at?” a nauseatingly saccharine voice snaps. A blur of black and white drops into your view and you stumble backwards. “You stupid whore, who are you to look at me?”

Your mouth runs dry and your tongue becomes heavy. Instantly your head falls to the ground with your hands under your forehead and your eyes squeeze shut. “I’m sorry, my lady. Forgive me, please.”

She scoffs, before yanking at the shoulder of your uniform to bring your face up to hers. Strands of fine, black hair lay across the front of her face, the ends brushing against the white of her makeup. The pigment on her lips is a bright, vibrant red that contrasts the paleness of her face and the darkness of her hair.

She’s breathtakingly deadly.

She must be one of Sukuna’s favorites. Her aura is so fierce, but her features are somehow delicate and sharp.

Her nails dig into your arm and the corners of her lips slide down her face. The iris of her eyes are a deep brown, nearly blackened by the anger that spreads through her body. Her eyebrows are tightly knit, the perfect arch in her brows now flattened into a hard slope.

“You dirty, proletariat brat. You must wish this was the life you lived, huh? You must wish you were worthy of Lord Sukuna the way we are,” she spits as the the tips of her nails dig deeper into your skin. You have no doubt the moment she releases your arm, blood will gush from the indentations of her nails on your skin.

The other concubine steps forward. She’s just as stunning as the other, but her features differ vastly. Instead of a foxy look of slender features and slim eyes, her jaw is soft, her lips are round, and her eyes are wide like a doe’s.

“It’s astonishing that Uraume allowed the scum of the estate to even step outside of the dungeons today,” she frowns, bending down to invade your space. She scans your features, trailing over the dust that clings to the creases of your clothes and the swatch of white paint across the back of your hand.

You’re surprised as well that Uraume allowed you to participate in preparing the ceremony. Despite your promotion, you still worked in the lower parts of the castle, commonly referred to as “the dungeon.” Rats, cockroaches, and snakes are common sights in the halls, and fuzzy spores are found on every end of each room. The maids of your levels speculate that the ground level of the estate is littered with ceramic vases, gold plated portraits, crystalline walls, and the smells of roses and joy.

It’s been awhile since you’ve smelled anything but must and damp walls, hasn’t it?

You bow your head, shutting your eyes. This battle cannot be won— the concubines will win. The aristocracy always succeed, even if they are wrong. It’s an endless cycle engraved in the history of your people. Prosperity and wealth do not come to those born into poverty— it runs in the veins of those fortunate enough to have lived at a time where a man was willing to adopt a boy, or for those who have leeched themselves to the top.

The voice in the back of your head brings you to believe that these two are the latter of the group.

“Now, you want to show some respect?” the concubine tightens her grip around your arm before tossing you back to the ground. A glob of spit lands on your cheek as the other scoffs, kicking your chest. You curl into yourself, clutching your head noiselessly.

The faster this goes, the sooner I can go to finish my duties and head to bed.

You pray someone will step in and separate the two from you; you want nothing to do with these concubines. Their sight of their perfectly primped hair and glassy skin was only supposed to be a glance for your own entertainment, to relish in the joy of the world above you. It was meant to be a taste of a world you would never exist in— a distraction from the harshness of reality that existed inside the walls of the estate.

The sight of the swaying cherry blossoms, the freshness of the grass beneath your feet, and the gentle breeze in your hair were meant to be figments of your imagination that you could play in your head until your final days in the manor. The tulle that surrounded the wooden posts were meant to design the gown in your dreams, in a life where you would find a loving husband and spend the rest of your life with a lover who would destroy the world to merely bring it to your feet.

Now, you recognize that you stepped out of place. You thought too hard and believed too much in an unattainable fantasy. In no life were you destined to be happy.

In no universe did you belong with plates of fluffy, sugary cakes and tender meats and soft cheeses. Doughy breads coated with flour were never meant to be placed on your table for dinner.

Instead, you were meant to eat a bowl of leftover bone broth and a slice of stale brown bread. You would never live to pluck a berry off a bush, or lay in a bed of flowers in the cool evenings.

Those were impossible tales for girls like you. They were realities for women like them.

Please, make this punishment quick and easy. Let me go to my room and speak with Aguri until my mouth runs dry and my eyes close shut. Let me sleep ‘till my next day of cleaning and collect the ribbons and threads of color that Aguri loves.

Let me make it to my room tonight, please. That is all I ask for today and forever.

The last thing you hear before a blow is made to your head is a terrified scream, the crashing of glasses, and the sound of rushing footsteps.

#© platrom, plot / writing / banners & headers. do not repost, reblogs are appreciated! please consider leaving a comment and a heart! <3

[gfmima]

c. 東京卍リベンジャーズ | tokyo revengers + f!reader t. he really, really, really wants to impress you

“hey, ‘mitchy, can you check if she’s there? do you guys see her?” chifuyu adjusts the position of his helmet, taking care not to disturb his perfectly styled hair.

everything needs to be perfect.

takemitchy combs his environment, and shakes his head in reply. coast is clear. worry begins to simmer inside him as he wonders whether this was truly a good idea. the thought of his friend hurt because of his moronic idea weighs heavy on his mind.

he was convinced you’d give him a chance, regardless of his skateboarding abilities.

he heard rumors of your crush on chifuyu, after all.

the look on his face betrays his unease. baji stands from his spot on the bench and hangs his arm over his friend’s shoulder, a reassuring presence in the middle of his worries. a wave of relief greets him, he knew he can always count on his friend’s unwavering support. perhaps he saw it won’t go well too, right?

wrong.

“oi, quit getting your panties in a twist, he’ll be fine. besides, don’t act like you didn’t pull the same dumb shit before you got hinata to be your girlfriend.” 

touché. 

chifuyu, ever eager to impress you when he learned of your interest in guys who can skateboard after he eavesdropped on your conversation with emma, forgoes the elbow and knee pads takemitchy insists he wore, claiming it was “only for pussies” and that it would “mess up his coolness.” 

first of all, he doubts the dudes you called “hot” wore elbow and knee pads, so why should he? he was quite determined to make the best impression on you, even if it meant putting his own safety at risk and ignoring all of his friend’s warnings.

what could go wrong anyway?

as his watch struck one o’clock, his heart skips a beat at the sight of you walking down the street towards him. you were right on time. with a newfound self-confidence, he steps onto the skateboard he borrowed from peh-yan and pushes off with his foot. coasting through the pavement, a billow of emotions hit him at the thought of awing you with his super awesome skateboarding skills.

he had been crushing on you for what felt like forever.

and he behaved no different from a middle schooler in love. he adored you from afar, longing for the chance to win your affection and express his deepest feelings for you someday.

nothing was more important than impressing you; months of yearning and daydreaming had only made his interest in you grow fonder, and this may be his time to finally tell you how he felt.

at the sound of your name spilling from his lips, you lift your gaze from your flip phone to meet his. he spots a faint glint of familiarity reflect in your eyes. and then, without any sort of hesitation, you grace him with the prettiest smile he has ever seen.

“i didn’t know you visited these parts of the neighborhood.”

lies.

chifuyu knows you did because he begged takemitchy, who begged his girlfriend to help him.

“yeah, my grandma’s go-to bakery is around these parts. ‘m doing a quick errand for her,” you answer, and he had to contain his excitement when he saw you notice he was on a skateboard, “hey, you know how to skate? that’s super cool. i’ve always wanted to learn.”

bingo.

“well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. i can teach you if you—WOAH!” for a second, everything seems to be going well. but then, in an instant, he wobbles and falls crudely on his back.

in the distance, baji had to hamper takemitchy by the collar from rushing over to help.

you kneel down beside him and brush his hair aside. a warm flush creeps to the surface of his skin, his cheeks emerge a distinguishable shade of pink as he basks under your gentle care. “are you okay? can you hear me, chifuyu?”

his lips part, hesitant, before closing once more, resembling a fish long out of water. the close proximity of your face has rendered him speechless. he finds himself lost in the moment of pure awe. though, to you and his friends nearby, the expression he wore made it appear his head was shaken beyond repair.

tragic.

“ha! can you get a load of that loser?” baji points at chifuyu and shakes his head.

takemitchy shrugs, merely happy to see his friend in love. “i don’t know, i think it’s cute.”

“we should also tell him that her favorite book is the tale of genji.” draken, weary from his friend’s indifference towards his homework and habit of copying his own, awaits the catastrophe that will unfold inside the quaint built-in study room.

mitsuya chuckles and follows his gaze, “pray this goes well then.”

as soon as the friend group heard of mikey’s interest in you, they had to suspend their disbelief. to put it nicely, he mistook his chances of dating a girl with your potential and class. managing editor of the university newspaper, dean’s lister, president of your own small book club… the list goes on and on. it was plain to see that a girl of your caliber won’t waste her time to entertain someone like him.

despite their shared merriment of the situation, they did, at the very least, try to stay neutral, not wanting to hurt mikey with the harsh reality. though, the idea of him pursuing you was too entertaining to ignore. 

and it didn’t dissuade him either.

when he saw you with your nose buried in what he assumed to be your favorite book, it piqued his curiosity. the immediate urge to read it as well ran strong. he picked up a copy of the book from the library and spent hours on top of hours poring over the pages, determined to absorb what he can of the story in little time.

it was a once-in-a-lifetime sight to see him lean on his babu with a deadpan expression, just to bring out a medium-size novel from his coat.

his friends raise a brow at the random change in demeanor. he, on the other hand, remained ignorant to their inquisitive stares as he flipped through the pages, his eyes focused on the text.

overly confident about his recent endeavors, mikey decided to take a bold step and attend your weekly meeting with the members of your book club.

he walks into the study room with his head held high, book in hand and a smug grin on his lips. all eyes were on him, wondering what had brought him in with such enthusiasm. without missing a beat, he introduces himself and declares he also read the book everyone was discussing.

draken and mitsuya cringe.

sometime or other, it registers he must have bitten off more than he can chew. he didn’t take into account how unnerving it would be to have your bright eyes on him as he fumbles over words, themes, and concepts he doesn’t fully understand, making wild guesses and throwing out random quips that don't quite make sense.

“uh, there’s this woman, right? lizzie,” he begins, “and she’s very proud and shit about stuff. then there’s this man called mr. darcy, who’s, like, prejudiced against her ‘cuz she’s poor but they fall in love in the end anyway.”

to his delight, you were beaming at his interpretation of the classic novel. “there is more to the plot than that but thank you for sharing, mikey.”

his face lit up in glee, as if he received the best compliment in the world. he looked almost puppy-like in his excitement, eager to please and impress you at any cost. humorous misunderstandings of the book and all, you found his fervor charming. 

“maybe we can talk about it more later… after this?”

you nod, a smile ever present on your face. even though you were aware of the whispers surrounding him and his friends and their rumored delinquency, you thought it was sweet that he’d go out of his way to read a foreign novel outside of his interest. “i’d love to.”

meanwhile, in the hallway, draken and mitsuya stand slack-jawed to see it end on a good note. a bona fide “the fuck!?” was the only thing running through their minds.

[huffelpuff210]

Only Mine Part 3 Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Only Mine Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent reader

Warning: Kidnapping, drugging, obsession, Dark Themes, Forced relationship, Forced marriage, Non Con, 

Summery: Professor Steve finally explains what he really wants.

After much sleep and Professor taking extra good care of you, You were finally feeling much better, Your heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, the sunlight peeking through the curtains remembering everything that had happened you were kidnapped by professor Rogers, You sit up seeing him fast asleep, next to you on the bed, no shirt on Professor Rogers was fast asleep he didn’t look too bad for a professor, his chest toned, some hair on his chest,

You shake your head and slowly try to get out of bed not feeling so exhausted, You tip toe through the room, looking back at him he’s still asleep, 

You tiptoe out of the room, just as you were about to open the door two arms wrap around you trapping you, 

“I don’t think so doll.” He whispers in your ear, you can feel your heart hammering in you chest, 

“Where am I?” You ask quietly 

“My place, no one around for miles, sure it’s a bit far from the collage but it’s peaceful.” He says 

You feel his breath on your neck, 

“Why me?” You asked 

“You are perfect, Not like the other whore’s especially that room mate of yours.” He whispers 

“But your my professor, your your-” You say trying to find the right words, 

“Your mine now, only mine, you are perfect, besides you graduate soon.” He says his lips touch your neck and you stiffen 

“Relax doll I’m not going to hurt you.” He says,  his arms still snaked around you trapping your arms, 

“Please let me go, I won’t say anything.” You say trying to plea with him not sure what is happening 

He spins you around that you are facing him. 

“This is gonna happen doll weather you cooperate or not, If you don’t well lets just say I’ll have to make a call to your father on how you are getting such good grades.” He says smirking, 

You know exactly what he was implying 

“Or I could flunk your friend Jessica, so she could never get into a good collage again.” He says 

You were horrified your eyes widen, 

“But if you cooperate, I can treat you well.” He says his lips kissing the side of your neck, nipping at your skin. 

“We could have a great life together, you would never have to work. I could support you..” He says descending on your collar bone, 

“I know you have no experience in this field.” He says 

His hand slowly going up your shirt, 

“But I can show you, I know you had a boyfriend before.... But you never had sex before.” He says cupping your breast. 

“No boy could ever show you the things I could.” He says  you try to push him away but it does nothing, compared to his size it was like trying to move a house, 

“Once you graduate we are getting married.” He says 

Your eyes widen at the comment. 

You shake your head no, your thoughts spinning. too shocked to speak, 

He grips your chin, 

“Yes, you are.” He says glaring at you

“You see Doll I’ve been searching for someone like you for a long time, Someone who isn’t tainted, Who knows value, Virtue and knows how to listen, And you are it, You are my good girl.” He says smirking kissing you on the lips stealing your breath away

Backing you up against the door. 

Once he finally parted from you, He smiled down at you, 

“I used spring break as an opportunity to grab you.” He says 

“There are going to be rules, You break any there are going to be consequences.” He says 

“What kind?” You ask

“The punishment kind.” He says looking at you sternly

“Number one is you do as I say when I say it, Understood?” He asked 

You nodded he gripped your chin hard

“Words doll.” He says 

“Yes.” You say 

“Next is you ask my permission.” He says 

“Yes.” You say

“And final you never run.” He says as he glares 

“You run and you get punished.” He says 

“Yes.” You say nodding 

You knew you had to play into his sick game until you can get out of here, Spring break is two weeks so you had to escape. 

“Any questions doll?” He asked 

You slowly look up at him

“Can I go back to school?” You asked 

“Yes, but You have to behave, I’m not going to rob you of your education.” He says kissing you 

“Besides you graduate soon anyway.” He says smirking down at you gripping your hips. 

“Now are you hungry?” He asked 

“Yes.” You nod 

Survive. You thought

“Lets have some breakfast then.” He says taking your hand and leading you out of the room.

He led you down a narrow hallway and down a flight of stairs through a very spacious living room, and finally entering the enormous kitchen.

A large wooden island in the middle of the kitchen, with a few stools. a large farmers sink, a big mahogany table with six chairs, a stainless steel refrigerator. 

It was far too large for one person, why had he purchased such a large home if he lived alone you wondered, 

“Take a seat it won’t take me long.” He says as he grabs a few things out of the fridge, 

You quietly obey him, taking a seat at the island.

You watch as he cooks, not believing this was really happening, why you? 

Just survive. You repeated in your mind, 

You are brought out of your thoughts when he places a plate with an omelet in front of you with some fruit on the side, You look at the food, 

“Um, Thank you.” You whisper 

“Eat up.” He says smiling at you 

How the hell were you going to escape

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Fingering. Anal sex. Vaginal sex. Blindfolds. Bondage. Anal plugs. Humiliation. Oral sex. Gojo being an asshole.

The next morning, Gojo wakes up early, too eager to begin Chubby Bunny’s real training. Last night was just testing the waters. 

He keeps a stock of new items ready and available, in various sizes and themes, so he’s well prepared. By the time Chubby Bunny wakes up, he has his bed lined with cute outfits for her. 

She gets to her feet, stretches, and walks over to look at the clothes, the chain on her leash clinking. “What is all this?” she asks, picking up one of the pieces. 

“It’s your wardrobe,” he tells her. 

She doesn’t seem to like them. Her face scrunches up as if she just saw something disgusting. “These are all way too small. They won’t fit me.”

“Of course they will. I picked them specifically to highlight your best features!”

She glares at him, like he insulted her terribly. Why does she always react that way to compliments? 

“Try something on,” he says, walking over and unhooking the leash from her collar. “You can change in the bathroom if you don’t want to do it here.” 

She sifts through the items, holding several of them up and looking increasingly upset. “Why are there holes in the ass of all of these?”

Gojo laughs. “For your tail, silly!”

She looks confused, but eventually chooses an outfit and goes to the bathroom. He hears the lock click into place and thinks it’s cute that she’s so shy. When she emerges a little while later, she’s holding her pajamas in front of herself like a shield. 

“I was right, it’s too small,” she says, hovering near the bathroom door. 

“Come on over and let me see,” Gojo tells her. 

She doesn’t move. “It looks awful on me. Can I just wear something else?”

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Chubby Bunny, I saw you completely naked last night. I’ve already memorized every single inch of you. So stop being bashful and let me see.”

He meant the words to be reassuring, but she looks horrified. Regardless, she steps further into the room and slowly drops the pajamas. 

Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever gotten hard so fast in his life.  She’s wearing the outfit that covers the most, but it’s still super revealing. It resembles a pale pink one-piece swimsuit, with high cut areas for the thighs and tiny spaghetti straps at the top. Her lovely, pillowy tits are barely contained, threatening to pop out at any moment. The matching pink thigh high stockings, which she probably put on to cover a little more, only make her look more erotic. The way the thick flesh of her thighs sticks out a little over the top of the stockings drives him wild. 

She’s looking away from him, crossing one arm over her chest, not realizing that only squeezes her tits together and makes her look even sexier. 

He stops staring long enough to remember the outfit isn’t complete yet. Not without the finishing touches. He grabs the bunny ears and puts them on her head, and hooks the leash back onto her collar. Finally, the tail. 

When he brings it to her, he makes sure to open the sealed package in front of her. He wants her to know this is a new item, not something he used on a previous doll. It’s a fluffy, round white bunny tail, connected to a shiny silver butt plug. “Get on the bed, on all fours, and I’ll put your tail in.”

Her eyes flick between the tail and his face, frantic, like a frightened little rabbit. She really is the cutest! 

“You can’t be serious,” she says. 

“This is part of the training. I said I wouldn’t give you special treatment, remember? All my pets have to have a tail.”

“How long do I have to wear that thing?”

“Until I take it out,” he says. 

She’s still looking at the tail as if it’s some dangerous weapon he’s going to use to attack her. 

“Look, it’s way smaller than my dick, so it shouldn’t hurt at all.”

She looks down, lowering her voice as she says, “But I’m still sore from last night.”

Somehow, hearing her say that in that shy little voice turns him on even more. He pulls the leash, forcing her to come closer to him, and gently rubs her head. “It’s okay, Bunny. I’ll lube you up really good. Once you get used to it, I promise you’ll like it.”

She finally nods and climbs onto the bed, her ass pointing at him. Fuck, she’s hot. He has to resist the urge to fuck her again right there. He controls himself, and opens the lube, dripping it into the hole in her outfit, right over her asshole. He massages it in, enjoying the way she quivers and jerks away. He slides his other hand down and finds her clit, giving it a few quick strokes with his fingers. She makes the cutest little squeak he’s ever heard, her whole body jolting. He’s never seen a woman with such a sensitive pussy before, and he loves it. 

She looks back at him over her shoulder. “A-are you done yet?”

“Nope,” he says, holding the tail up to his face, running his tongue over the plug. She watches as he coats it thoroughly with his saliva, her face looking more and more embarrassed. “Now, relax your body. I’m putting it in.”

She turns away, facing forward again. Her hands are gripping the sheets tightly. He wishes she would just relax. But he can’t wait forever, so he spreads her cheeks with his fingers and lines the tail up with her hole. It slides in easily, and she only makes a few quiet whimpers. The hole in the outfit has a cute bow attached at the back, which fastens around the tail, keeping it securely in. 

“It’s in,” he says, stepping back. 

For a few seconds, she doesn’t move an inch, then she gradually moves off the bed and stands beside it. She keeps trying to turn and look at her ass. “It feels weird,” she tells him. 

“You’ll get used to it,” he responds. “Turn around and wiggle your tail for me.”

She gives him another one of those looks, the kind she used to give him in high school when he swiped her notebook from her desk and made her beg him to give it back. It riles him up even now. 

Still looking half angry, half mortified, she turns to face away from him and gives the tiniest shake of her ass. 

“Oh come on, you can do better than that! Wiggle!” He gives the leash a little tug, just to urge her on. 

She glances back at him again, then sighs and bends over slightly, showing off her round ass. Then she wiggles it properly, the bunny tail wagging in the air, her thick thighs and ass jiggling in the cutest way. 

Fuck, he can’t hold back. She’s way too fucking adorable. 

He jerks the leash, pulling her to him, right up against his body. Ah, she’s so soft! But his cock is so hard it feels like it’s about to explode. 

“Get on your knees,” he says, almost breathless, “and open your mouth.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a blush creeping over her features. But she’s an obedient pet, so she carefully lowers herself to her knees, making sure not to disrupt the tail. By the time he has his dick out, she’s waiting with her mouth open, just like he wanted. 

She’s perfect. 

There’s no hesitation when she wraps her plump lips around his cock, her wet tongue gliding over his tip. She has one hand at the base of his shaft, stroking to the same rhythm as her lips, and the other hand gently squeezing his balls. 

Gojo can’t help but groan. “Holy fuck, how does a virgin learn to suck cock like this?”

She pulls back and looks up at him, strings of saliva connecting her mouth to his tip. “I’ve done this before,” she says, then goes back to sucking him off, taking him so deep he hits the back of her throat. 

He can’t take his eyes off her, watching her head bob back and forth, hearing the wet sounds she’s making. The girl he’s wanted for so many years, the girl he’s been crazy over, is on her knees in front of him, deep throating his cock. It’s the best feeling in the whole world. 

It’s occurred to Gojo that she’s not aware of his feelings for her, now or even back in high school. He’ll tell her at some point. Right now, he’s kind of turned on by the idea of her thinking it’s a one-sided thing, of her pining away for him. It makes teasing her so much more fun. 

“You must be loving this,” he says, grinning when her eyes shift up to his face. “The guy you thought you had no shot with has his cock in your mouth.”

She lowers her eyes, but doesn’t stop. He liked it better when she looked up at him, but her tongue on the underside of his dick feels so amazing, he can barely think straight. 

He holds out as long as he can, wanting to stretch this out for as long as possible. She just looks so hot like this, submissively pleasing him, the bunny tail sticking out behind her, those huge tits bouncing as she moves her head back and forth. But her mouth feels way too good. 

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum in your mouth!”

He doesn’t feel her try to pull away, but just in case, he grips the leash and holds her in place while he fills her mouth. 

*********************

You don’t struggle as Gojo’s warm, sticky cum shoots down your throat. This is the one sexual act you have experience with, so at least it doesn’t shock you. 

Glancing up at him, you hate just how physically perfect he is. Why does this asshole have to be so beautiful? He smells wonderful, his scent almost intoxicating. Even his cum is delicious. 

He uses the leash to pull you upwards, to your feet, then he rubs the top of your head, between the white fluffy ears, and says, “Good bunny!”

This is degrading. You feel like crying, and you feel deeply ashamed that you actually enjoyed sucking his cock. It even made you wet. What is wrong with you? Maybe some weak, pathetic part of you really does feel lucky that such a beautiful man is even wiling to touch you. 

After the two of you clean up, Gojo says, “Let’s go get breakfast.”

“Okay. I’ll get dressed,” you reply. 

He gives you a strange look. “You’re already dressed.”

You look at him with horror. “You want me to wear this?! Where other people can see?!”

“Why do you think I had you put it on?” he asks. 

“But… the tail…”

“What about it?”

You squirm uncomfortably. “It’s hard to walk with this thing in.”

He grins. “Pets don’t walk around on two legs, silly Bunny.” Then he jangles the leash. 

“Please don’t tell me I have to hop,” you say, exasperated. 

“No, not hop. I tried that once with another bunny and she pulled a muscle. Poor thing. But you do have to crawl,” he says. Then he smiles brightly. “Suguru and Nanami will be so surprised to see you!”

“Oh God, I forgot about them! I can’t wear this out there! I look gross!” Your voice is getting more panicked. This is hell. The three hottest guys you went to school with are going to be seeing you in this skin tight outfit! You cross your arms over your chest and stomach, feeling hideous. 

Gojo tilts his head as he looks you up and down. “Gross? But you look so squeezable! They’re gonna be jealous!”

There he goes, being sarcastic again. He must think this is funny. “It’s too embarrassing,” you say. 

“Oh don’t worry about that!” Gojo says with a laugh. “Suguru makes his doll walk around stark naked! She doesn’t even wear socks. Now that’s embarrassing!”

“That sounds awful,” you say, reconsidering your earlier assumption that Geto would have been better. 

“We have this little game we play when he gets a new doll. I pretend to harass her and try to touch her so he can swoop in and be all, ‘Don’t touch my doll!’ and make her think he’s protective.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize he’s such a manipulative person,” you tell him. The Geto you remember was a fairly nice, chill guy. Maybe he just seemed that way compared to Gojo. Not that you knew him all that well. 

“Nanami lets his dolls wear whatever, but he makes them call him Daddy and he spanks them with his belt when they misbehave.”

You shudder. “Ugh, cringe.”

“I know, right?” Gojo laughs. 

You snicker too, and then catch yourself. Why are you standing here talking to him like he really is an old friend? 

If he notices the shift in your mood, he doesn’t let on. He’s still grinning like an idiot as he opens the door. “Okay, get on your hands and knees like a good pet.”

You sigh dejectedly and get down on the floor. This is going to be humiliating, but at least everyone here is used to Gojo and his bullshit, so they won’t be surprised. And at least you’re not totally naked. 

He leads you down the hall, walking slowly to give you time to keep up with him as he holds your leash. Luckily the hallway is carpeted, so it’s relatively soft under your knees, but the tail still feels strange in your ass. You dread reaching the dining room, being seen by strangers and old classmates alike. But you don’t have a choice, so you might as well get it over with. 

In the dining room, Gojo leads you past a few tables, past a few strangers who don’t even glance at you. He stops at a table where Geto is sitting with his completely nude doll. Her face is bright red. 

“Look who’s here,” Gojo says, pulling up the leash so that you have to raise up slightly. “It’s Chubby Bunny! You remember her, right Suguru?”

Geto looks surprised. “Yes, I remember her,” he says, his gaze shifting from you to Gojo. 

You hear Gojo calling Nanami over, and soon the blonde man is standing in front of you, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“She’s my new doll,” Gojo announces cheerfully. “Isn’t that funny?”

Nanami gives you a pitying glance. “I see. How unfortunate for you,” he says to you before walking away. 

Geto and Gojo are speaking quietly to each other, and you hear Geto say, “This is a bad idea. You can’t control yourself when it comes to her and you know it.”

“It’s fine,” Gojo tells him. “I’m being professional.”

You shudder. What sort of bullying does Geto think his friend will put you through? 

Gojo eventually leads you to a table and then gets food for both of you. He puts some food, steamed vegetables, in the palm of his hand and holds it out to you. “Here, eat.”

You think this is weird, but you reach out your hand to take a piece. 

Gojo pulls his hand back. “No no, eat out of my hand.”

You grimace, but realize he’s not going to let this go. So you lean forward and use your tongue to scoop some food into your mouth. Gojo watches you with a pleased expression. “Don’t worry, when we’re alone in my room, you can eat whatever you want. We’ll just do it this way in the dining hall.”

So this is just about embarrassing you and making you feel low. You’re not surprised. You spend the rest of the meal eating out of Gojo’s hand, wondering when he’s going to eat anything himself. When it’s over, he leads you back to his room and hooks your leash to his nightstand again. 

“I’m gonna go grab us some real food,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

With no other option, not even able to sit down with the tail in, you stand there in his room while he leaves. 

************************

In the kitchen, Gojo is grabbing a double armload of snacks when Geto confronts him. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Geto demands, his hand on the counter. “You’re not supposed to get attached to dolls you train, and here you are training the girl you were in love with in high school!”

Gojo is clutching the snacks. “Suguru, I’m keeping her.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. She’s everything I dreamed she would be. She’s so soft and cute and you wouldn’t believe the blowjob she gave me this morning! Her tongue is like magic!”

Geto frowns. “I’d rather not hear that kind of stuff about two of my former classmates. Anyway, keep in mind that she has the right to refuse. It’s in her contract.”

“She won’t,” Gojo says quickly. “Why would she? She admitted she liked me in high school.”

“In high school, not now. And even then it was probably only before you started bullying her.”

Gojo scoffs. “That wasn’t so bad. I just teased her.”

Geto narrows his eyes. “Satoru, you tripped her in the hallway and made her fall in front of everyone. Among many other things.”

“I tripped you and Haibara all the time! I was just joking around!”

“It’s different with girls,” Geto says. “Remember when you tripped Shoko?”

Gojo looks down with a pouty expression. “She smashed my sunglasses.”

“Yeah, and she was your friend.”

Gojo looks back up. “That all happened so long ago. I’m sure Chubby Bunny is over it by now.”

“Just try to think things through,” Geto tells him. “From her perspective, she’s now the sex slave of her former bully. This is probably a nightmare for her.”

Gojo smirks. “It didn’t seem so nightmarish when she was moaning and cumming last night.”

Geto turns around. “Alright, I’m done. Just think about what I said.”

Several days later, Gojo still hasn’t popped Chubby Bunny’s cherry. He knows she wants him to. In the heat of some of their intimate moments, she’s asked him to. He wants to literally more than anything, but he wants her to beg for it. The very thought of it makes his dick throb. 

Presently, he has her spread out on his bed like a buffet. She’s wearing nothing but the collar, bunny ears, and a pair of thigh high stockings, the rest of her on display for him. She’s lying on her back, her hands tied behind her. She’s blindfolded, and her legs are spread far apart, bent up at the knees, her body partially folded. 

She’s twitching as he pumps a large pink dildo in and out of her ass. He loves having her in this position, her tits jutting out and bouncing as she jerks, her pussy totally exposed and defenseless. With his free hand he runs his thumb up her slit, loving the way it glistens with her arousal. When he parts the flesh and strokes her quivering clit, her body nearly jumps off the bed. She’s so so so sensitive! Playing with her body is the most fun Gojo has ever had. 

Being blindfolded, all her other senses must be heightened. She’s breathing hard as his thumb continuously rubs her delicate little nub, her mouth making the sweetest cries he’s ever heard. 

“Does my cute bunny want me to fuck her tight little cunt?” he asks, still plunging the dildo into her other hole. 

She nods, her body shaking like a leaf. 

“Want my huge cock stuffed into this virgin pussy?” 

“Y-yes!”

He keeps rubbing her clit, watching her come undone, the pleasure overtaking her. She’s at her cutest like this, so overwhelmed by stimulation that she starts crying. He can see tears leaking out beneath the blindfold. 

“You’re gonna have to ask for it, Chubby Bunny,” he says, lowering his voice. 

She squirms under his touch. “Please,” she whispers. 

“Please… what?”

She lets out a sob. “Please… fuck me!”

He grins. “I’m already fucking you. Be more specific.”

“Please… fuck my pussy with your cock!”

He stares down at her trembling form, thinking it’s the most beautiful sight on earth. The woman he’s craved all this time is crying in his bed, begging for his cock. He has to be inside her, soon, or he just might cum in his pants. 

*************************

You’re a complete mess. Gojo has reduced you to this. You’re lying here, shaking, tied up, totally helpless, your body being pleasured relentlessly while your heart is tormented. You don’t even know who you are anymore. The most pitiful, disgusting side of yourself has emerged, desperate for this man to fuck you. 

You feel him pulling off your blindfold, and your breath hitches. You wish he’d left it on. You don’t want to look into those haunting eyes anymore. But the blindfold is gone, and you open your eyes to find his face inches from yours, looking like a heavenly being. 

He’s not smirking or grinning right now. He’s staring at you, his perfect lips slightly parted, his hair messy, his cheeks slightly pink. He looks into your teary eyes and then kisses you on the lips, gently. Then he slides down, pulls the dildo out, and tosses it aside. He leans his face down, holding your slick folds open with his fingers, and begins licking your clit. 

You jerk, arching your back, screaming in ecstasy. His tongue glides all over it, his saliva mixing with your arousal, making you absolutely drenched. And when you’re right on the edge of cumming, he stops and pulls back. You look at him with pleading eyes, and he gives you a kind, warm smile. It’s not the smug grin he usually wears. 

“I had to make sure you’re nice and slippery,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt my Bunny.”

You know what that means. He’s finally going to fuck you for real! He scoots back onto his knees and opens his pants, hurrying to pull out his massive cock. Then he moves closer to you, pulling your legs onto his shoulders and bending you even more. 

You gasp as you feel his cock begin to enter you. At first it’s going in easily, but at some point it starts to hurt. It’s not unbearable pain, but an ache that spreads from your pussy and up to your lower abdomen. And he’s still going deeper, as if he wants to fuck directly into your heart. 

You squirm beneath him, and he puts a hand on your face, making you look at him, at those damned eyes. “Feel it? Feel me inside you?”

“Yes,” you squeak out. “It… it hurts… it’s too big.”

You feel him push even deeper in, and then he groans. “Fuck… I’m all the way in… so fucking tight…” Then he locks eyes with you again. “Now that I’m in, what do you want me to do?”

“Ah… f-fuck me…”

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice so lovely in your ear. “If I start fucking you now, I might wreck this poor little pussy.”

Your mind feels cloudy. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care if he hurts you. All you want, right now, is to be fucked by him. “Wreck me,” you say between ragged breaths. “Ruin me!”

You hear him inhale sharply, and his eyes seem to shimmer as he looks down at you. “I’ll ruin you,” he says huskily. And in a voice so low you can barely hear him, he adds, “Because you’re mine.”

He fucks you then, plunging in and out of you, stretching you to the limit, holding your face still with his hand to make you maintain eye contact while his other hand squeezes whatever flesh it can find. Your brain can barely process whether it hurts or feels amazing. His hard body is pressed against you, his skin creating friction against your sensitive clit as he pounds into you, flooding your senses. 

You hear his voice, saying something incomprehensible. It sounds like, “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine”. He kisses you again, devouring your mouth, and pulls back in time to watch your face as you cum, staring into your eyes. When he cums minutes later, he does so deeply inside you. 

He pulls out slowly. His pretty pale cock is coated in a thin layer of sticky red blood, mixed with your cum and his. He pants for a minute, still staring at you, like he can’t take his eyes off you. 

Still in his bed instead of the pet bed, you fall asleep before even cleaning up. 

Over the next few days, Gojo fucks you constantly, in one hole or another. Your body is growing to crave his touch, crave the pleasure he gives you. But your heart is in turmoil. 

One day, as you’re stepping out of the bathroom in your pajamas before bed, you start to feel dizzy, lightheaded. You’ve had spells of anemia for years now, and you groan as you grip Gojo’s dresser. You don’t want to faint here, in front of him. You hate showing him even more of your weaknesses. But the room is going dark, and you feel like you’re falling. 

You hear Gojo’s voice. It sounds distant. 

“Chubby Bunny? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Hey!”

You think you feel two strong arms wrap around you as the room goes completely black. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3

[leth-writes]

yandere silco x reader who betrayed him

“Shit, get out!” You screeched, shoving the enforcer forward and away from you as you spotted Sevika’s harsh snarl from across the crowded, dimly lit bar. He booked it, running for the backdoor. You were so fucked. You tried to follow him, but were stopped by Sevika’s strong grasp on your forearm.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She growled, spitting mad, in your face.

“N-nothing! I was just telling him to leave me alone,” you stammered, feeling the blood drain from your face and the adrenaline pour down your spine. It felt like your head was going to explode from the pressure of your thoughts racing, trying to create an excuse. 

“Bullshit,” she huffed, dragging you through the back exit after the enforcer. When the two of you entered the alleyway, the enforcer was nowhere to be seen, not even a hint of him to be found. “Shit,” she cursed, spitting. She whipped you around and slammed you to the brick wall, hand holding you up solely by your throat.

“You better tell the truth, you little rat, Silco isn’t here to save you…” She punched the wall by your head and you startled even further, letting out a little whimper of fear. “Please, please Sevika! I promise, I swear on my soul, I wasn’t doing anything!” You cried, fingers clutching and scrabbling at her thick, coiled forearm.

She huffed once again, face turned to look out the entrance of the alley in contemplation. “Ple-” you began, but her free hand shifted to cover your mouth, hand reaching from your nose down your chin. Fuck, you couldn’t breathe! You didn’t want to die in this dingy little alley, never having escaped your captivity. You scrabbled against the brick walls, fingernails breaking under the force, then scratched at her forearm, leaving long, deep grooves that soon welled up with blood.

You tried to gasp, to get even a breath of air through the tight grip of her fingers, but it was futile. Slowly, ever so slowly, your world began to darken, the ringing in your ears drowning out Sevika’s harsh panting. Then, everything went dark.

It was cold, so cold you couldn’t feel your fingers. That was the first thing you noticed as you bolted awake. You were in the chair in Silco’s back room, strapped down with thick leather ropes and wearing an undershirt and your thin, cloth pants. How did you get here?

“I imagine I’ve been keeping your chain a little too long, little one,” You jumped at Silco’s voice, head craning to see him without any luck. He was standing behind you. The room was dingy and dark, a complete lack of visibility for your groggy, grimy eyes. You blinked fiercely, trying to clear them.

It was then you noticed the thick leather strap clamping your mouth closed, tongue brushing against the rough, grime-coated material. It was then the memory hit you, as your head throbbed; Sevika had caught you, and she had knocked you out. Fuck, were you going to die in this chair, was he going to inject you with shimmer, contort and change your body beyond your control until you were unrecognizable?

You whimpered once again, arms straining against the thick straps as you tried to break even a single hand free. You failed. “Hush now, there’s no use in struggling. I won’t be making the same mistake again,” Silco said, the soft hint of a threat in his voice. He sauntered closer, hand trailing along your shoulder as he crossed in front of you. Silco leaned in until his lips barely brushed the material of the leather gag. “It’s not your fault, poor thing, I forgot you needed extra… guidance. A stupid little thing, aren’t you, unable to learn not to bite your owner even as he feeds you,” he continued, hand reaching up to grasp at your chin gently.

“Well, no use fretting now, it’s too late. We’ll have to start over, right from the beginning.”

Your muffled pleas went unheeded as Silco reached for the thin metal shock collar on his desk.

[maarriiii]

Creep | Jason Todd

A/N: rip to this post and all the notes but thank god I still have the copy

Summary: Some guy keep following you but Jason’s there to help you

Pairing(s): Jason Todd x female!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning(s): Suggestive content at the end

my masterlist :))

~~

"Quick, pretend like you're talking to me." Jason was forcefully turned around by y/n who kept looking over her shoulder like she's being followed. She was agitated and worried, but also donned a scowl that showed her clear annoyance. Jason tried to look for someone suspicious in the sea of guests, but no one stood out in his eyes.

"Why? Is someone following you? Are you okay? Do I need to grab my guns?" He asked, determination in his eyes.

If it was in any other situation, y/n would've smiled and rolled her eyes at his protectiveness but this guy had been trailing behind her since the start of Bruce's charity gala and it's getting on her nerves. The only reason why she hasn't kicked him in the balls yet was because she didn't want to make a scene, especially since last time.

"This guy just can't take a goddamn hint. He keeps following me and I'm tired of hiding just for him to find me again. This is my first night out since god knows how long and this creep is ruining it." y/n grabbed Jason's glass of whiskey and proceed to downed it one go, ignoring the dirty looks thrown her way.

"Why haven't you deck him yet?" Jason casually asked, ordering another glasses of alcohol.

"You think I haven't thought of that?" She whisper-yelled. "The only reason why I'm being "civil" right now is for Bruce's sake. Also, I've had enough of Alfred's disapproving looks to last me a lifetime."

Jason smiled, founding it amusing how y/n is handling her current dilemma. He was about to say that he'll offer to get rid of the creep when someone with eager eyes and even more eager steps started walking towards y/n and himself.

"Don't turn around, but I think your fan is making a move." He stated. "Does he have brown hair, blue eyes, and an extremely punchable face?"

y/n sighed and nodded. "Yup. That's him. So, you have any idea to get rid of this guy?"

Jason assessed the situation and if he's correct—which he usually was—then creeper over there would reach their location in about eight seconds. So, he needed to think and act fast. He could asked y/n to go and find someplace to hide, more preferably his old bedroom in the manor, but y/n had tried the same method and she made a good point about how he could just find her again. He could just go marched right towards him and tell him to back the hell off, but that would cause a scene that would probably get y/n and Bruce angry at him. Another one of Jason's plan was to threatened the guy passive-aggressively into cowering and leaving, but where would be the fun in that. With three methods out of the way and four seconds left on the clock, Jason had one final idea. Though, he haven't figured out how y/n would reacted.

"Alright, I have an idea. It might work, but I need you to promise me that you won't get mad," Jason explained.

"Okay. What is it?"

"You promise right?"

"Oh my God, yes, I promise. Now, tell me."

Without a word, Jason pulled y/n by the waist, leaving no space empty between the two vigilantes. y/n let out an oof sound when their chest collided while Jason slowly leaned in, their lips brushing but his eyes watching the scowl painted on the creeper's face.

"I think it's working," Jason whispered.

y/n gulped, her hands tightened slightly at Jason's suit collar. "Is it?"

"Yup. He's stomping away like an angry toddler."

"That's good," y/n answered dazedly.

Jason smirked, noticing how her eyes were closed. "You okay, princess? You seem a little flushed there."

"I...I'm fine. I just—" she paused, thinking for a moment "—are you wearing that cologne I got you for your birthday?"

"I am." He lowered his hands to her hips. "Do you like it?"

y/n nodded, her arms making their way around his neck. "I do."

Wordlessly, y/n kissed Jason with a vigor that he wasn't expecting, but welcomed either way. The two were in their very own bubble, oblivious to the fact that many people were staring and whispering about their steamy interaction. Their kiss was passionate and full of desire that made neither of them ever want to let go. It was only when the need of air became urgent that y/n had to let go with Jason's lips chasing after her own.

"That was long overdue, wasn't it?" She smiled, forehead leaning against Jason's.

"Yes, it is. So, what do you say we go back to my place and make up for lost time?" He suggested, trailing kisses to her jaw.

y/n kissed him again and pulled away. "I like the way you think, Jaybird."

[sleepershell]

Azgeda Charm

synopsis The sister of Ontari from Azgeda decides it could be fun to free the sky boy pretending to be her sister’s fleimkepa.

word count 2668

note originally posted on Ao3

warnings 18+ minors please DNI, smut, swearing, penetrative sex, oral sex female receiving, dubious consent but not really, dom! reader, sub! murphy

pairing John Murphy x f!reader

“Chains? Really, she’s chained her pet up now?” She’s always been a bit overzealous, but my sister really has gotten herself into it this time. How does she expect no one to find out that she isn’t a true commander? Without the flame she’s just my idiot sister. “Give me the key. Now.”

I shove her man aside and stalk toward her quarters. He grunts, but won’t do anything about my treatment of him. If there’s anything good to say about my sister it’s that she protects me. In fact, I’m probably the only person other than Roan, Nia, and their goons who could ever talk back to her without getting skewered.

I’m quiet as I near the door, creeping extra slowly in my heavy boots. With my ear to the wood I hear the muffled sounds of her speaking to him–the scrawny Skaikru boy.

“There’s somebody else, okay? I’m sorry.” Doesn’t sound sorry to me. My breath tightens in my chest, my sister doesn’t like to be told no. And, if he fights her on it, she will certainly win, one way or another…

“Is she a commander too?” Well, you’re not really a commander are you, Ontari?

“No.” Chains rattle within. So she did have him chained up. What a charmer my sister is. I feel my heartbeat quicken but I can’t tell why. As though I’m in battle when I am not.

“Would she kill you if you ever lied to her,” The chains make a cracking sound, and I hear him grunt. “Did anything to break her trust, or upset her in any-”

I’m moving before I can think better of it. I don’t know why I would do such a horribly foolish thing but I do. When the door slams open Ontari is there, pulling him toward her by a chain that is cuffed around his neck. The look on his face is a perplexing one, hesitant but willing, typical man. I scoff. Loyalty is a myth. Ontari is bare, of course flaunting the body that has always been so much better than mine.

“Sister!” She is displeased. “You are interrupting.”

I shake my head at her. “Chit yu dula op?”

“Just having a little fun.” She grits out. I raise my brows at her, and she crosses her arms over her perky, bare breasts like an insolent child.

“Well. Glad to see you’ve learned some things about enslaving people.” I glance pointedly at the chain still in one of her hands. I can tell that upset her, but it’s true. How can she abuse her power like this when we’ve lived under the fist of others for so long? “Anyway, you wanted to know when King Roan arrived. He has.”

My sister sucks in a breath, composing herself. “Of course. Thank you, sister.” I lean in the doorway as she dresses and shift my glance over to see that her ‘fleimkepa’ is eyeing me cautiously. I narrow my eyes in return. He must be a snake to have fallen in with Ontari. Of course, I’m not much better. I’ve killed for her.

She slips past me. “And what should I do with your prisoner?” I mock.

“Don’t touch,” she hisses.

“Don’t worry.” I slam the door behind her before turning to take in the scene before me. It’s a pitiful display. The sky boy’s face is decorated in lines of dried blood, and he looks ridiculous in the robes he’s clad in. “Hello, liar.” He frowns. I can tell he doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to reveal his hand without knowing how much I already know. “What is your name?”

“People call me Murphy.”

“I didn’t ask what people call you. I asked for your name.”

He smirks but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It seems he’s used to playing pretend. “John Murphy.”

I approach him, our eyes not breaking contact. His are dark blue and difficult to read. I reach up and unlock the collar around his neck, dropping it to the floor in a loud metal thud. He isn’t bad looking. I noticed it when Ontari first began toting him around. I’m unsure if it’s the strong nose or the way his lips curl into a sarcastic smile at the slightest hint of play. He’s like a child that way.

“Well you’re welcome, John Murphy.” I turn away from him, walking toward the window. Everything is so big in Polis, and it’s startling to look down from so high up. “You should go before my sister returns.”

“Go? So you’ll disobey her?”

I can’t help but giggle at that. When I turn around he looks deadly serious. “I’m not afraid of her. Not like you, sky boy.”

“Sky boy.” He chuckles. “Alright, so if I walk out that door right now you won’t be killing me?”

“Nope.” I extend a hand toward the door. He shrugs and approaches it.

“Thanks. Your name?” He asks.

“(Y/n).” He nods. He does not go anywhere. I feel my stomach knotting. Ontari would very much not like this.

“Why do you stay with your sister?”

“She’s my sister.”

“Look, I’m not going to pry the answer out of you. You clearly don’t like her.” So casually he speaks to me, though I could easily murder him right here and anyone else surely would have already. There’s a knife at my hip, another in my boot. It would be too easy. “You could leave.”

At that, I scoff. “With you?”

“Well, I could manage getting out of here myself but it’d be a lot easier if you walked me out in chains.”

Ontari was right about him. He is smart, foxlike. I’ve always admired foxes, you know, before my sister would go in for the kill. I suddenly feel bare, but there’s no way he could know how much I’ve wanted to leave. I’ve spent my entire life in Ontari’s shadow. My perfect Natblida sister. And she has no idea the way Nia’s men would treat me behind closed doors, no idea the things I’ve done to protect her. My feet are moving now–what is it about this boy that makes me so thoughtless?

He holds out his wrists and I begin to tie them up. He flinches in pain as I pull the knot tight, and I tut at him. “Is it the sky that makes you all so weak, or just the coddling from your mothers?”

“I don’t have a mother anymore. Or a father.”

I meet his eyes, and again have no idea what I see in them.

“Then we are the same. Come on.” I yank him along with me, taking a huge breath before leaving the room. This could be very easy or end in Ontari slaying him on sight and finding some way to punish me. Why did I care if this pet of her’s died? “Hurry.” I hissed.

We’ve made it down the first hallway when I hear sounds from around the next corner. Luckily, there’s a shallow alcove in the dark to our left. I slam him into it, clasping my hand over his mouth and pressing my body tight against him. Hopefully this will be enough. He winks at me and I glare back.

Whoever it was passes us without incident, and we make the rest of our journey out undetected. Outside, he holds his hands out to me.

“I don’t think so.” I grin.

“Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into now.”

I lead him out of Polis, toward the surrounding forest where we won’t be so easily found. Pleased with our progress, I stop to rest.

“Are you letting me out of this anytime soon or should I be trying to escape?”

With my back to him, I ask the question that’s been on my mind. “You said to my sister there’s someone else. Is there?”

“There was. But, no, not anymore.” It’s a loaded answer, but one that causes my stomach to flutter regardless.

“So, you rejected your commander even without another woman on your mind?”

“We both know she isn’t a commander. And I don’t have a commander. Kind of a loner, when I’m not chained up.”

I turn. “And you find yourself chained up often, I assume?”

He shrugs. “More often than I’d like.”

I take a step toward him. If I could just read him this wouldn’t be so difficult. But if there’s one language I’m familiar with, it’s force. So, as I walk past him, I kick his knees out from under and he falls forward onto them. “So I’m to believe you don’t like being tied up?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I circle him, his eyes trained on me.

“How far would you go?” I am so out of my depth, but the way he looks up at me from below is like a drug. I could be this girl, the one who makes men fall on their knees. Maybe that’s who I am when men aren’t asking me to talk to my sister for them.

He blinks, and the first real smile I’ve seen breaks out on his face. “I’m yours.”

Those words alone send me into a frenzy. A sound escapes my throat and I grab him by the back of his head smashing my lips into his. He knows more of this than I do, I can tell, but when I back away there’s nothing mocking in the way he looks at me.

I take off my jacket first, then hesitate. This is the part I’ve always feared. “I don’t look like Ontari.” As if he couldn’t see already that she was built athletic and delicate like a doe and I was certainly not.

“And?” What an ass. But it works. I swallow and began to undress. As I do so, I don’t expect him to say anything. I know I’m bigger than her. But I can still have this. I don’t look at him until he clears his throat. “You’re beautiful.”

“What?” I croak.

“Do you need me to say it again? I want you.”

That’s it. I close the space between us. He eyes my tits from below. “Touch me.” I command.

He lifts his bound hands and raises a brow. I Shake my head ‘no.’ He'll have to figure it out. And he does. He brushes them up one leg and I shiver. He traces figure eights at the apex of my thighs. I part my legs in response, then grab his hand and bring it to my mouth. I take his first two fingers as far as they go, getting them wet, before returning them to him.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. He brushes his fingers over my folds and then parts them. The fingers find their way to my entrance and I let out a moan. In response, he dives into me, pulling his fingers almost out before sliding them back in, over and over. His index finger curls inside me and my legs threaten to give out.

“John.” His eyes shoot up to me, as though I’ve said something more jarring than his own name. “I want your tongue.”

I lean back on the rough bark of a nearby tree and tilt my pelvis forward to give him access. He wastes no time in finding my clit, swirling his tongue around it. It’s almost too much all at once and I pull back.

“Can’t handle it?” I give him a halfhearted smack across the cheek, and it gives him all the answer he needs. His mouth finds me again, this time determined and rhythmic. Fuck. Who taught him how to do that?

My fingers find their way into his hair, and I tug at it as his mouth brings me closer and closer to oblivion. As it nears, I can’t hold back my whimpering moans, and he groans in response, the vibration of it sending me over the edge entirely. Braced against the tree, my body tremors in pleasure. When I glance back down he looks too smug.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing. Although you might want to work on your knot tying.” He raises the rope I’d tied around his wrists, his face smug.

I trace a finger down the side of his face, down along his neck. When I reach his chest, I give a hard shove, knocking him back onto the ground. While he’s still in shock, I grasp his hands and pin them down. Now he looks hungry.

“Would you like to be let go?” I ask in the sweetest voice I can muster, fluttering my eyelashes.

He shakes his head once. His eyes do not meet me, but are focused on my breasts which dangle right above him. I know what he wants, so I lean closer and he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirls, and I feel the hardness in his pants against my swollen cunt. I can’t help but rub myself on it and soon can’t take it anymore.

I let go of my grasp on him so I can undo the buttons on his pants. Apparently I take too long, because he slips his hands under mine and whips his cock out for me. My eyes widen and my pussy clenches at the sight. He is much more endowed than I would’ve expected from one of the weak sky people.

“You like what you see?” He is amused, and so I give his cock a light smack. He winces.

“I could kill you.” We smile at one another. This could be a very good arrangement.

I ease myself onto his hard cock. I’m so wet from before that it slips inside me with no resistance. We both let out involuntary moans as I’m filled with him.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” He gasps.

His cock is long enough that I whimper when it is fully sheathed. He looks to pleased at that, so I lean forward and let his cock fall out. He growls in frustration as I thrust my clit on him.

“If you want me to put it back in, you’re going to have to beg.”

“You’re sadistic.”

“You seem to like it quite a bit.” I look down at his cock to drive my point.

“Fine. Please ride my cock?”

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that.”

“(Y/n), please ride my fucking cock, I feel like im going to burst.”

“Yes, John.” I slide him back inside and roll my hips. His hands find their way to my waist and I start to bounce on him. He feels incredible inside me, and I start to ride harder. I want his fucking come inside me.

My hands find their way around his neck, beginning to cut off blood flow. His eyes roll back, and suddenly he’s lifting me up with his hands so that his hips can do all the work. He pounds so hard that he is hitting what feels like the very end of me. I clench around him, wanting it to never fucking end.

“Harder.” He groans, and I oblige, clenching down around his throat.

His face begins to turn color and I start to wonder if I’ve gone too far when he lets out a long, animalistic groan and I feel him twitching inside me. His pleasure goes on longer than I thought possible, and the load inside me must be huge. When he’s finished, I lay forward, letting him remain inside me. We are both spent, our panting breaths nearly in tandem as I lay bare on top of him in the forest.

I place a kiss on his jaw, close to his ear and whisper. “Well, that was fun.”

He cranes his neck to look down on me, his brows furrowed slightly. “Where are you going now?”

I realize I have no idea. I’ve never been without my sister before. So I shrug.

“I’m taking you with me.”

xx

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 30

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

As the middle of May arrives, so does War Games. Meaning we are fast approaching graduation. Something I had tried to avoid thinking about too much. But it was fast approaching. Meaning Garrick and Xaden leaving was fast approaching. This year was going so fast. It felt like only yesterday I was crossing that parapet and being shoved in front of the stairs in the rotunda. Being reunited with my brother and Garrick. And now we had to face the prospect of being separated again for who knows how long. And with our line of work, there was also the reality we may never see each other again. I shake my head to clear the thoughts from my head. I needed a clear head today. Today was War Games. If I went into this distracted, there was a very real chance I could be killed. It wasn’t uncommon for riders to die during war games. None of us were safe.

”What do you think our assignment is going to be?” Liam asks as we stand in formation in the middle of the courtyard with the rest of Fourth Wing. “Deigh thinks we’re on offense. He won’t stop going on about getting to kick Gleann’s ass-” Pausing as his dragon clearly butts in to say something. “Guess dragons hold grudges.” He whispers.

We certainly do. Mealladh adds, causing me to chuckle.

Anyone in particular you want to get revenge on? I tease.

Mealladh chuckles. No, not yet at least. Though Cath might be tempting to teach her rider to pull his head in.

We might have to get in line for that one.

Ahead of us leadership are gathered, getting their assignments from Xaden. He had know about the task since yesterday and he used his spare time to plan who was going where.

”We’re definitely on offense,” Rhiannon answers, “Otherwise we’d already be in the field.”

I nod in agreeance. “I don’t think I’ve seen a single rider from First Wing since lunch.”

Which did not bode well for us. Out of all the wings, First Wing liked us the least. Mainly Jack Barlowe and his squad. He wasn’t going to forget that Violet had put him in hospital for four days after their challenge a few weeks back. Meaning she would be the most likely target if our squads crossed paths.

”I think you two might be right.” Violet adds as she fidgets with the collar of her uniform. It was a particularly warm day, and we we’re fast approaching summer. I suddenly envied the other quadrants who had far better uniform options than the black leather we wore. “Why do you think riders wear black anyway?”

”Because it’s badass,” Ridoc states from behind us.

”So it’s harder to see if we bleed,” Imogen adds.

”Forget I asked.” Violet mumbles as she turns her attention back to the front.

Any hints as to whats to come? I ask to Garrick who startles slightly as I speak in his mind.

I’m never going to get use to that. He replies as his eyes flicker up to meet mine.

You love it. But you didn’t answer my question.

You’re getting nothing out of me sweetheart. He tells me bluntly as he turns his attention back to the squad leaders in front of him.

Nothing? I can’t tempt you anything? I tease.

I watch as his shoulders tense and his nostrils flair. No

No? Not even me getting down on my knees, my mou-

Stop it! His eyes meeting mine again, desire and need heavily evident in them.

Make me. I tease before severing the connection as the leadership meeting ends, Dain and Cianna heading back to us.

”Which is it?” Heaton asks. “Offense of defense?”

”Both.” Dain states as he stops in front of us. “First Wing has taken a defensive position in one of the practice fort in the mountains, and they’re guarding a crystal egg.”

The older riders in our squad murmur with excitement. Obviously this challenge is far more exciting than ones in the past they have encountered.

”What are we missing?” Ridoc asks as he looks around at the older riders. “Because you guys seem thrilled about an egg.”

”From past years, we know that eggs are worth more points,” Cianna states as she grins enthusiastically. “Flags have statistically been the lowest, and captured professors rank somewhere in the middle.”

As exciting as it would be to try get an actual human out, if it was Carr I would leave him there as long as possible just to make him squirm and suffer.

”But they like to switch it up,” Dain adds. “The same way we could be going for a real objective on the line only to discover its not as valuable as we thought.”

”So how is this both offense and defense? If they have the egg, then clearly we should go get the egg.” Rhiannon adds.

Dain’s excitement peaks with Rhiannons question. “Because we’ve also been given a flag to defend and no outpost to do it in.” He grins widely.

”And we’re carrying it.” I state as a grin of my own spreads on my face.

Dain looks over at me and nods, his grin faltering slightly as our eyes meet. He still wasn’t sure of me, and I don’t blame him. But right now we had to be on the same page.

”And who is going to carry this flag?” Imogen asks.

I don’t know how but Dain manages to smile even wider. “That is going to be the fun part.”

Immediately we jump into formulating a plan. Dain drilling into us the strategy he wants us to follow. It seems Dain had taken something away from out time in Monsteratt with Mira. But our plan was simple and easy to follow. Anything too complicated would have us too focused on trying to remember what to do. All we had to do was play to our individual strengths and pass that flag often, never giving First Wing a chance to spot who was carrying it. An almost perfect chance for me to try use my signet. But could I cast a believable illusion while moving and on a large group of people? That was going to be my test. With two whole wings out there it would be a massive test to see if I could. But if I messed it up, part of my signet would be known to the entire quadrant. Something I did not want.

It’s a risk worth taking. It will not be easy, but if we focus I have no doubt you can pull this off. Mealladh states as I meet her eyes as we walk into the flight field.

One way to find out then. I state back as I smile at her.

”We’re going to win.” Rhiannon states confidently as she puts her arms around Violet and I.

”What makes you so sure?” Violet asks nervously.

”We have you two, Tairn, Mealladh, Riorson and Sgaeyl. And obviously me.” She grins. “There is no way we’re losing this.”

”You are certainly-” Violet’s words die as Tairn comes into full view.

He’s standing proud and tall at the front of the section next to Mealladh. Dain’s dragon Cath pushed easily to the side to accommodate them. A glint on Tairn’s chest catches me eye. A buckle. On Tairn’s back is a saddle. A saddle made to help Violet keep her seat. That sneaky bastard.

”That’s…. That’s a saddle.” She stutters out.

”That’s cool, that’s what that is.” I tell her.

”Yeah, and it looks way more comfortable than Feirge’s bony spine, I’ll tell you that. See you two up there.” Rhiannon says before pushing past us and heading off to mount her own dragon.

I turn and walk over to Mealladh, leaving Tairn and Violet be to have whatever conversation they are having.

She’s not going to be happy with you. I tell Xaden who is walking over to Violet.

He meets my gaze and shrugs. It will keep her alive and let Tairn do what he needs to do. She will learn to like it.

I shake my head at him. Fucking mated dragons.

He gives me a vulgar gesture before walking past me to Violet who still looks shocked at the saddle that now adorns Tairn. I have to give it to my brother, he had thought of anything and everything to keep that girl alive. And honestly this was the best one I had seen yet. Hell I kind of wanted one, but I had not problems keeping my seat and I doubt Mealladh would tolerate it.

You would be correct. But if it kept you alive I would do my best to tolerate it. She states as I run up and mount her.

That might be one of the nicest things you’ve said to me.

I don’t have to look at her to see she’s rolled her eyes at me. As I settle in my seat I look forward to see Garrick mounted on Chradh looking over at me. I can tell from here how excited he is about this War Games. It would be challenging to do offense and defence, but we could pull it off. I feel his presence reaching out for me, clearly wanting to communicate before we take off.

You’re going to use your signet aren’t you?

Of course I am. It’s going to give us the upper hand with that flag. I tell him sternly. I was not backing down on not using my signet. I needed to learn to use it in real life situations.

I see him nod his head slightly. I know there’s no point in telling you Riorson’s not to do something, but please be careful with it. We can’t have everyone knowing what you can do.

If it means winning, I’ll do whatever it takes. And I know you will to.

I don’t doubt that. You just keep that flag safe sweetheart, and I’ll make sure Xaden or I get that egg.

How about this. You make sure you get that egg and you might just get a reward tonight. I tease, knowing he will do anything and everything to make sure he gets that egg.

A reward? What kind of reward? He practically growls in my head.

Get that egg and you’ll find out.

And with that Mealladh and I launch into the air, leaving a very shocked and dumbfounded Garrick down below.

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

[whumpninja]

The Angel of Death, Part 3: Blood and Circuses

CONTENT WARNING: Buckle your friggin’ seatbelts, this one gets real nasty!

Featuring: cage match, forced to fight, vampire whump, mentions of (non-permanent) death, graphic descriptions of violence, muzzle, drugged whumpee, heavy gore, blood (seriously it’s a LOT of blood), violent onscreen death, extremely vague one-sentence throwing up, collar, dehumanization, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK THIS CHAPTER IS A DOOZY

It was out of sheer decency that Keola waited until Mr. Moody closed his office door before she laid into him. Her mother wouldn’t have been pleased to hear her yelling a man down the hallway of his own building, and that was the only reason she waited until they were in his office to shout “What were you even thinking?”

“I-“ Mr. Moody started, but Keola trampled him back down and kept right on going.

“You let me believe I would be doing medical work on a leopard or something, not a freaking vampire! I’m not qualified for that type of work, I could lose my job because of what you just did! And on top of that, you want said vampire to fight in your arena with a fracture in his leg? Are you insane? Completely lōlō?”

“What language is that?”

“Not the point!” Keola barked. “Mr. Moody, you tricked me. And I don’t know whether I should take it as an insult to my intelligence or my ethics. Did you think I would just be so overcome with emotion upon seeing an injured creature that I’d ignore the deceit it took to get me there? I don’t kiss boo-boos and make them all better. I do real, actual medical procedures that took hard work and training. And what I am not trained to treat? People. People like the one you’ve got chained up back there, and don’t you dare try to use the excuse of legal classification or that kind of nonsense! I am not licensed to treat your pet vampire!”

“He’s not a pet.” Mr. Moody’s voice had gotten oddly serious. He pulled up his sleeve and showed Keola a scar on his arm- a long, deep gash, healed into a dark rift in his skin. “He’s not a pet, Doctor. He’s a wild animal. I’ve seen vampires before. I have some other ones here for Saturday, and they’re pretty much like us except for the fangs. I’m not saying they’re people, but they’re not the way Angel is. Angel’s dangerous, take it from me. And that’s a good thing, I need him dangerous. But a doctor is used to treating patients that are calm and rational. A vet knows how to treat patients that aren’t. I don’t have another choice. Not with him.”

Keola blew out her breath. “I could lose my license, my clinic. You’re asking me to risk my job for these fight shows of yours.”

“If that happens, I’ll take care of it. I promise. I’m in good with the police force, they bring me the vamps to set on Angel. I can get them to look the other way. I just- I need you, Doc.” Mr. Moody ran his hands through his thinning hair. “If I lose him-“

Keola almost said no. She almost tore the contract in two and stormed out. She didn’t care if this man lost his brutal business. She didn’t care if he was ruined because she wouldn’t help him.

But she thought of Angel.

As terrifying as he was, he was hurt. He was scared, somewhere beneath the anger. He didn’t know what was happening. She couldn’t leave him to a man who would keep exploiting him with no regard for his well-being, who would make him fight with a break in his leg.

Keola blew out her breath and sat down heavily in the chair by the wall. “If I lose my clinic-“

“You won’t. I promise, Doc. If there are any consequences, they’ll fall on me.”

Keola took her hair out of its bun and redid it, twisting it around her hand. “What about Saturday? If you make him fight-“

Mr. Moody chuckled. “I don’t exactly make him fight, Doctor. He lives for it. Craves it. Born killer, my Angel. If I don’t let him get his exercise, he’ll attack anything that gets close enough.”

“Why?” Keola couldn’t help asking. “I’m not well-read on my vampires, but I don’t think most of them are that…feral.”

“Most of ‘em don’t have six-inch teeth either. Angel’s special. You should see him in the cage.” Mr. Moody snapped his fingers. “You should. Come on Saturday, Doc.”

“What?”

“Not in any official capacity, not yet. Just come as a guest. No charge- I’ll put you right at the front. You can get a feel for what kind of injuries you might be dealing with, and see how Angel fights. See how much he loves it.”

“Mr. Moody-“

“No, no, I insist. Here. VIP ticket.” Mr. Moody banged open a desk drawer and rummaged around, resurfacing with a red slip of paper in his hand which he pressed into hers. “And hey, if it don’t work out it don’t work out. No hard feelings. But just give it a shot, yeah?”

Four hours after she’d been picked up and taken there, Doctor Keola Ioannidis found herself standing outside a fight club with a ticket to Saturday’s show in her hand.

What did I just get myself into?

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t going to go. It was after dark, which meant she wouldn’t risk the sun. And her ticket was free- she’d checked the Colosseum Club website, and the little slip she’d been given would have run her over three hundred dollars if she’d paid for it herself. And taking the contract with the club meant sorely needed extra income to keep her little clinic afloat.

But she wasn’t going to go. She couldn’t. I can’t, Keola told herself over and over all Saturday afternoon. It’s against my code of ethics. Not to mention my own morals. I can’t sit happily in an audience and watch people beat each other black and blue.

She kept telling herself that she wouldn’t go all the way up until she was standing at the door.

The website had said that the main event would be at 9:30 p.m., and Keola had waited until nearly then on purpose. She was only going to observe Angel as a potential patient. That was all. She didn’t need to see…the rest of it.

There was a bouncer at the door, a big man in a too-tight shirt. He looked her up and down disbelievingly. Keola tried to seem like the sort of person that frequented mildly illegal fight clubs, but she knew it would be a lost cause. She shoved the little red slip at the man instead.

His eyebrows went up. “VIP seating? You?”

“Me,” Keola answered. “And I got that from Mr. Moody himself, so if you wouldn’t mind letting me in, I don’t want to miss the main event.”

A smile spread across the man’s face, and he held the door open for her. “Nobody does, missy. Trust me.”

Cryptic, Keola thought.

The little club that had been empty before was now full to bursting with people. And not your average barhoppers, either, Keola noticed- many of the patrons drinking at the bar were rather obviously wealthy. Yet they’d stooped to come to this dingy little club. How popular are these fights?

She didn’t really know what to expect as she made her way to the side door and down the concrete corridor that led to the underground arena. It had been relatively quiet before, but now it echoed with the shouts of what sounded like a very large crowd. As she neared the end, she heard Mr. Moody's voice, bellowing through a microphone.

"And it's victory for Nosferata, death for Overbite! What a show! What an ending! That's gonna be hard to clean up! Mr. Edwards, not to worry, we'll get your vamp regenerated and back on his feet in plenty of time for the next match. As for Nosferata, Ms. Winslow, you should be proud of her, that was one of the most brutal matches we've had in awhile!"

Keola entered the underground stadium and immediately reeled against the wall, gasping. Not from the noise- though that was certainly overwhelming, with the roaring crowd and Mr. Moody's foghorn voice. Not from the sight, though the sea of people in the bleachers was an impressive view.

It was the smell that hit her hard, made her press her head against the concrete wall and dig her nails in for all she was worth.

The smell of blood.

Not human. No, it wasn't the sweet tang of human blood. It was the sharp, acidic smell of vampire blood, and it was everywhere. Her eyes felt hot at the overwhelming smell, and she squeezed them shut, clinging to the wall.

How many vampires have died here?

"Are you all right, miss?" asked a voice. Keola snapped her eyes open and hoped they were green instead of red.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, smiling at the concerned employee. "Just a little dizzy, should've eaten something before I- Ronnie?"

Blue Goon was in black tonight, but she still recognized him. He squinted at her, and then his face cleared. "Oh! Hi, Doc- the boss told us he gave you a ticket, but we didn't see you at the opening so we thought you'd skipped. He'll be glad you're here! You haven't missed Angel, that's the last show of the night. Should be about a ten-minute wait." He held out his hand. "If you'll show me your ticket, I'll get you to your seat."

"Thanks," Keola said, handing over the red slip.

"Best seat in the house." Ronnie grinned. "The boss must like you."

Keola let herself be led through the bleachers to a box right in front of the ring, just above where she'd heard Mr. Moody's voice coming from. "I'll tell the boss you're here," Ronnie offered. "Can I grab you anything from the bar?"

"I'll take a Bloody Mary," Keola answered almost without thinking. "Dirty."

Ronnie winked at her. "Staying on theme, I see."

As Ronnie disappeared, Keola slumped into her chair and stared at the arena below her. It looked smaller now, surrounded by tall cage fencing. The floor had been covered with a thin layer of what could have been either sawdust or sand.

Whatever it was, it was doing a terrible job soaking up the blood. All of it was vampire blood, she could tell by the dark color- red so deep it was almost purple. The arena was splattered with it- the floor, the fencing, even a few spectators in the front had stains of blood on their shirts. The spectators were all human, and not a single one looked bothered by the violent sport they had come to watch. Many- mainly those in the front rows like Keola- seemed to have dressed up, in suits and pearls and silk gowns.

The Colosseum Club, indeed.

Ronnie appeared at her elbow with her drink just as the lights went down. "Enjoy the show," he whispered, and gave her another wink as he slipped out of the box. Keola took a sip of her drink and braced herself for what was coming.

A series of floodlights around the arena went up, and a spotlight shone down on Mr. Moody. He'd dressed up for the occasion in a gray suit, and he was beaming. "Hasn't tonight been incredible, folks?" he shouted, and the crowd roared back at him. "What a show! What a bloodbath! But we know you've all been waiting for our last match of the night, so I won't keep you waiting much longer!"

Keola heard metal creaking and leaned down to see a pair of burly men come out of a metal gate, dragging a vampire between them. She hadn't seen the earlier parts of the show, but from the sound of it, the vampires involved had been fighters.

This one clearly wasn't. He was dressed in street clothes, his face bruised. And he looked terrified. There was some sort of muzzle strapped over the lower half of his face.

"This is gonna be a good one, folks!" Mr. Moody announced. "Officer, what was this one's crime?"

One of the guards leaned into the microphone. "Tried to attack a woman outside her own restaurant," he said, his lip curling. The crowd booed, and Mr. Moody shook his head.

"Just because it's a restaurant doesn't mean your kind get to eat there, leech," he said. The other guard took off the muzzle, and Mr. Moody shoved the microphone into the vampire's face. "What's your name, bloodsucker?"

"M-Marcus," the vampire stammered. "But I-I wasn't trying to attack her, I just-"

Mr. Moody snatched the microphone back. "Didn't ask for a sworn testimony, vamp, I ain't a judge and these good folks sure ain't a jury." The guards opened a door in the cage and pushed Marcus through, slamming it behind him.

"But there'll still be an executioner." Mr. Moody grinned and held up his arms as the crowd cheered wildly. "Hey- Marcus, was it? If I were you, I'd start running."

Marcus threw a frightened glance around the arena and started to run, making for the other side of the stadium. A spotlight stayed on him. Mr. Moody let him have a few seconds before he turned back to the crowd. "And here it is, folks! The final match of the night! Marcus versus...the Angel of Death!"

A metal gate at the other end of the arena groaned as it opened. Behind it was darkness, and Keola squinted to see through it. As far as she could tell, nothing was behind the door.

And then Angel charged into the arena.

Keola gasped, gripping the edge of her seat. Whatever ferocity she'd seen from Angel in the basement was nothing compared to this. The vampire was snarling, practically foaming at the mouth. He looked like a rabid dog. His fangs were on full display now, the wires holding his jaw half-closed gleaming in the spotlights. His eyes were pools of glowing red, the pupils shrunk to nothing. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, his short hair dripping with it. He stumbled to the side, reeling like a drunken man, and dropped to all fours. Keola could see the way his chest heaved for every breath.

Drugged, she realized. Heavily.

Most of the crowd were on their feet now, screaming in excitement. Angel shook his head, twisting away from the side he was closest to. The noise must have been overwhelming to the senses of a full vampire- Keola was only a half-vampire and it was hard for her to handle.

And then Angel's head shot up, his eyes finding Marcus.

Marcus had started running for the opposite side of the arena, but as Angel took off after him Keola knew he didn't stand a chance. Angel stayed on all fours, clawing trenches into the floor with every bound. He was fast, too- far faster than Marcus, who didn't even reach the other end of the cage before Angel was on him.

Angel grabbed the smaller vampire around the waist, dragging him down. The pair rolled in the sand, Angel growling ferociously and Marcus crying out in terror. The whimpers of fear turned to screams of pain as Angel dug his claws into the meat of Marcus's shoulder.

As horrified as she was, Keola couldn't look away. Mr. Moody was bellowing commentary or something, but she couldn't focus on the words enough to know what they were. She heard the audience's shouts as if they were in another language.

And then- "Oh, we've got a live one!"- yelled Mr. Moody, as Marcus desperately kicked backward and slammed his foot right into the cast on Angel's leg. The leg buckled. Angel went down with a roar of pain, and Marcus stumbled away, bleeding from the claw marks in his shoulder and chest.

The vampire staggered to the edge of the cage, grabbing at the bars with bloody hands. "Please!" he begged, frantic, desperate. “Please, don’t let- no!"

Angel didn't let him get another word out. Marcus screamed in terror and pain as Angel grabbed him, claws digging in deep, and tore him off the bars, flinging him out into the sand. And then he was on top of the smaller vampire, tearing and slashing and trying with his bound fangs to bite. And Marcus was screaming and gasping and gurgling on blood. And there was the sound of bones being crushed, and flesh being ripped into, and the smell of blood was so much stronger now, overwhelming everything-

Keola leaned down, out of view of the arena, and was sick on the concrete floor.

I can't be part of this. It was too horrible. She couldn't come back to this place again and again, knowing what happened in that arena. She'd thought it would only be death. She'd never imagined the brutality of it- when she risked another glance into the cage, there was nothing left of poor Marcus but shreds of meat and bone and a pool of thick, dark blood.

And when he regenerates, they'll do it again. Vampires could not die unless it was through sunlight, silver, or a stake. No matter how thoroughly Angel destroyed his prey, they would come back to die once more. It was sickening. Keola had never been killed, had never had to regenerate- but she had heard it was painful. Excruciating.

The crowd was still cheering, and Mr. Moody shouted something about it being a great night and a good show. Keola managed to make herself look at Angel. Her brow furrowed.

The feral vampire still crouched over the remains of his prey. His chin dripped with gore, and as Keola watched he bent his head and rubbed his face in the sand, almost lying fully in the puddle of blood. He was gasping, pulling in desperate gulps of air as he tried to cover himself in his victim's blood. The wires at his jaw strained to keep his mouth closed.

For a few moments Keola had hated him, this monster of a vampire who she'd just seen murder one of their own with no remorse. But as she watched the guards grab him, bind his arms behind him, force him up and back through the gate as he thrashed and snarled in their hold, she realized something.

Mr. Moody had said that Angel was feral, a wild thing, so full of rage that he didn't have to be prompted to fight. But what Keola had seen just now hadn't been anger.

It had been hunger.

Angel, with his jaw wired shut, surrounded by blood, had been trying desperately to eat. He wasn't fighting because he was angry, but because he was starving. Vampire blood did nothing to sate a vampire's hunger- it had to be human or animal, something living. But Angel, drugged out of his mind and starved to the point of madness, only knew that there was blood.

Keola left the last two-thirds of her drink by her seat. She didn't want it anymore.

Ronnie met her at the end of the bleachers. "Hey, Doc!" he said, beaming. "What'd you think of the show? Oh, and Mr. Moody wants to see you ring-side."

Keola nodded dully, still too overwhelmed to speak. I'll tell him that I can't be part of this, she decided. He can find a new vet. I'm not going to sit by and let- all of this happen over and over again.

Ronnie escorted her through a locked door under the bleachers, to the space underneath where her box had been. This area was walled off, a tunnel of chain-link fencing and concrete. She realized that this was where the gate in the arena led- the corridor behind them must go all the way back to the cellar she had been in before.

Mr. Moody was just by the iron gate, several of his guards with him. Angel lay at his feet, his arms bound tightly behind his back, that chain leash and a solid metal collar around his neck, the other end securely fastened to a bolt in the wall. As Keola watched, Mr. Moody took a cup from a man she recognized as Red Goon and dipped his fingers into it. Smiling, he held out a hand dripping with blood. Human blood.

Angel lunged, the chain bringing him up just short of Mr. Moody's hand. He crashed to the floor, pushing himself up and trying again. Mr. Moody laughed. "All right, all right, here you go." He dropped to one knee on the concrete and held out his hand again, slipping his fingers in between the wires to let Angel lick the blood off them. "You did so well tonight," he murmured. "Sure gave 'em what they wanted, didn't we? Good boy, Angel."

Ronnie cleared his throat, and Mr. Moody glanced up. "Doc! I was hoping you'd make it! What a show, huh? A real thriller tonight." He beamed at her. "So? Do we have a deal?"

Keola had meant to say no. She'd been prepared to tell him that she couldn't do it, find someone else, it was too much.

But she couldn't look away from Angel, nearly choking himself on the chain leash for a few drops of blood off a human's fingers. He was angry, and dangerous, and savage- and he was starving and hurting and alone. And she couldn't leave him.

"Yes, Mr. Moody," she heard herself say, and saw herself extend her hand to him. "We have a deal."

When they shook on it, her hand came away sticky with blood.

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @i-eat-worlds @softvampirewhump @scoundrelwithboba @rainbowsandwhumperflies @octopus-reactivated

@whumperfultime @pigeonwhumps @handsinmotion @starfields08000 @fleur-a-whump

@worstcasescenariolullaby

Masterlist

[eurydia]

a self-indulgent drawing of Raphael disheveled and covered in blood

I was inspired to write a short fic to go with it, you can read it below or in AO3: [One Last Visit]

Tav finds Raphael bleeding and near-death in her room in Elfsong Tavern—or so she thinks.

One Last Visit (944 words) by Eurydia

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Blood and Injury, Drinking, Alcohol, Older Man/Younger Woman, Ficlet, Minor Spoilers, Raphael is overly protective of Tav, Hope is such a tease (and so is he)

This is also my gift for the support on "The Lover's Gambit". Thank you so much ❤️!

Tag explanations: - Minor spoilers for Wyll's background - Implied/Referenced Torture - Does not actually happen in the fic, but Raphael briefly describes doing it to someone else

      Tav went to her room in Elfsong Tavern. The rest of her party was still downstairs, drinking and celebrating for the night.

      She opened the door and found Raphael slumped against her bed, his white frilled collar stained with blood.

      “Raphael? What in the Hells happened?” she knelt beside him.

      He glanced at her weakly, managing a smirk. Tav wanted to think it was selfishness that made her start tending to his wounds: if she helped him, he would owe her a favor. But that wasn’t entirely true. She had developed a soft spot for the devil.

      “Do you know what happens when a devil is struck down on this charming plane of existence?” he began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.       “Stop talking and hold still,” Tav muttered. Presently, she had no patience for his theatrics. She grabbed a napkin off a table and began to wipe his smarmy face with it.       He chuckled. For once, he listened and stayed still, silently watching her dab at his curled lip.

      It wasn’t long before Tav realized there wasn’t a single cut or bruise on him. Either he was concealing them—or feigning his injuries. She gave him the benefit of the doubt for now and looked him over. Bloodstains covered his normally immaculate outfit, some mere splatters while others steadily bloomed in size. He smelled strongly of the Hells, of ash, sulfur and infernal metal.

      Raphael was enjoying this. He figured he could indulge himself a little more and drag the show on.

      “I’ll get Shadowheart—“       He grabbed her wrist gently. Worry strained her fair features.       “As much as I enjoy watching you fuss over me, I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” Raphael said, solemnly. “Soon I’ll be sent back to the hells, to the very point where I last stood before I was…beaten. Potentially for good, this time. But since I’ve grown quite fond of you, I decided to pay you one last visit. For old time’s sake.”       Tav stared at his fingers still curled around her wrist. She slowly took his hand in hers.       “A question you may ask, but only one. True to my word, I shall answer, not run.”       Her gaze fell to a stain somewhere on his chest.       “What is a devil like you truly afraid of?” she decided.

      Raphael laughed. A laugh that came from deep within, unabashed and loud.

      “Oh, you mortals are so gullible! It’s adorable. Do you really think I could be beaten so easily? No need to fetch your favorite cleric,” he snapped. All the bloodstains on his clothes vanished. “It wasn’t my blood, little pup.”       Tav sighed. She shoved him away and walked to her wine cabinet.       “You’re insufferable,” she groaned, opening a Berduskan and taking a long, irritated swig.        “Don’t act so surprised. We are well-acquainted by now.”       He stood then brushed nonexistent dust off his clean clothes.       “Do I dare ask whose blood that was?”       “Let’s just say that vile, drunken creature downstairs won’t be bothering you any longer.”

      Tav set her drink down.

      “What did you do?”       “If you must know: I dismembered him,” he grinned. “Limb by limb, fingernail by fingernail. You should’ve heard his screaming, it was utterly delightful.”       Her back was to him, but he caught her shoulders bowing. He grinned.       “Are you worried about me?”       “Merely protecting my assets,” he replied. “Now, enjoy your night. If you’ll—“       “Wait. You didn’t answer me.”

      Raphael approached her. He extended a hand, brow raised in question. Eventually, she gave her his hand. He conjured up a handkerchief and began to wipe the bloodstains off her fingers.

      “I did not,” said Raphael, his eyes sharpening to a point on her palm. “My heart aches for your horned and heroic friend, Wyll Ravengard. If he’s not in the shadow of his fellow devils, he’s in the shadow of his father. I see why Mizora took pity on the poor pup. After all these years, he still hasn’t given up hope of pleasing him. Hope—such a tease.”

      Raphael said it all in his usual tone, full of melodrama and feigned pathos. At the end, however, Tav caught his gaze softening. Their eyes met, and he quickly finished his task before turning away.

      “You don’t get along with your father?” Tav asked, genuinely surprised. She found it strangely human that even a fiend like him was not immune to such predicaments.       “Unless you consider plotting each other’s downfall as a father-son bonding activity, then no. We do not. Thankfully, I have as much interest in making amends as I do in the affairs of mortalkind.”

      He would never admit it, but he hadn’t told a single soul about how he felt about his father, not even his incubus. Usually, he would’ve taken his leave by now. But the way she stared at him, with tenderness and affection, compelled him to linger a moment longer. He let her draw nearer, until he was close enough to see the scarring in her eye from the tadpole.

      Tav kissed him on the cheek.

      “Thank you, Raphael. I owe you a drink."       “A drink? I think you owe me far more than that." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing on her lips. She felt herself rising to meet him, her eyelids fluttering shut, her heartbeat overtaking the murmurs of the Illithid—       He snapped.       “Goodnight, sweetling.”

      She watched him disappear in a vibrant flame. On the spot where he had stood, lay a neatly folded handkerchief. She picked it up and sniffed it, the scent of the Hells—of him—flooding her senses like the most intoxicating perfume.

      Tav put it in her pocket and smiled.