#TELL ME HES A COWARD I FUCKING DARE YOU

[altruistic-meme]

as always i am thinking about Kevin looking out for Neil in the books and considering how to personally wrong every person who has badmouthed Kevin ever

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Bucky is sick and tired of you coming to him in tears every time your boyfriend hurts you. His anger has gotten to him so worked up that he wants, No, he needs to prove that all you need is him and him alone.

『Word count』 : 3.0k

Paring: Bestfriend!Bucky x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Rough loving desperate sex. Reader slips into a kind of subspace. Bucky is very angry about your ex. Bucky is very in love with the reader. Soft fluffiness. Lots of tears. Pet names, swearing, fingering, Bucky is a teasing shithead. Reader has stretch marks cause they are beautiful. Thick thighs, Oral (reader receiving) Big Dick energy. confessions, love making. Use of the words whore and slut (not directed to the reader).

Masterlist | Navigation

You didn’t understand what was wrong with you… Were you not good enough? Did you fail to provide? Why was the supposed love of your life grinding on an unknown woman with his tongue down her throat and his hand up her skirt in the corner of the loud screaming club. But this time, the music was not audible… The sounds of people were only formed to that of a whisper. 

Did he plan for you to see this disgusting display? Did he want to make sure you felt the most unbearable pain imaginable? Tears threaten to pour down your dry cheeks. Your once full heart, shattering into pieces that would never be able to be glued back together. Turning to quickly making your exit of the club, grabbing your phone, you only know one person to call.

“Hey Buck…”

-

“So I decided to leave, I couldn’t even gain one piece of confidence to go up to him.” You sob into Bucky's arms, holding his sides as if you were about to fall down the dark rabbit hole that is forming beneath your feet.

“Shh it’s okay, let it out.” He spoke softly with a loving tone, squeezing you tightly. But beneath that tone was waves of anger, wanting nothing more but to kill the man who broke your heart.

“I’m so tired, Buck. I can’t take this, He would never touch me like that, Never love me like that. He said he was not ready. But yet he fucksba whore out in an open bar… What’s wrong with me.”  He pulls you from his arms taking your face in both hands to look at you dead in the eyes.

“Hey, Hey, do not say that. There is nothing wrong with you. You are the most stunning, kind, and beautiful woman I know. You are always putting yourself second and making sure everyone is satisfied before you are. But you deserve to be satisfied too.” He smiles weakly before moving inches away from your faces. your lips daring to touch each other.

“You deserve the world.” He whispers. The touch of his warm breath creeps its way on your lip. Like an intoxicating mist, you draw yourself closer, kissing him, which he gladly returns. 

“Show me....” He spoke between sloppy kisses, bring his metal hand down to your waist while the other stands on your cheek. “...Where he wouldn’t touch you,” He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Kissing your jaw to your neck.

“Tell me what he was too much of a coward to say.” He falls onto the bed, letting you hit the covers gently, him towering over you.

“Show me where you saw his hands on that slut in the bar.” He growls anger firing him up, attacking your neck as you let out whimpers every time his tongue grazes your hot skin.

“Tell me how to make your pain go away.” He lifts yours and his shirts off, kissing every surface of your body, making sure to mark every part of you.

“Even if you want to scream his name. I’ll fuck away your pain.”

-

And he kept his promise. As his hands graze and squeeze every part of your flesh, he could get to. His lips latched on your neck, leaving dark marks in its wake. If he was going to fuck away your pain, he was going to make sure that scum bag of an ex will see the aftermath. So here he is, marking your soft skin, from your jaw to your chest.

"Look at you, so pretty and ready, just for me." His words are dirty, filled with lust. He has loved you for so long, and his heart ached whenever you would come crying about your ex. He knew he was your comfort, someone to rant to. Someone to hold you when your tears taint your beauty. He was angry and frustrated with not only your ex but the situation. He was going to make you his. And he was going to make sure you knew it.

"B-Bucky..." You whimpered, feeling his hand travel from your hips to your inner thigh. He watched you wiggle as he pinched your soft flesh, just under where you needed him. He was teasing you, making you lose your mind. Just barely touching you where you needed it most. His sinister laughter echoed in the room as his lips found your thigh, making you gasp. His teeth graze along the hot flesh, making marks along the plump skin. Your fingers laced in the sheets, tugging on the velvet fabric, and your whimpers got louder, making him want to take extra time to tease and rile you up. But a sudden sniffle got his attention, making him sit straight up to see tears prickling down your cheeks. He stopped his teasing and moved back up to your face.

"Darling... Why are you crying?" It was like his anger melted away, leaving worry in its wake. His hand cupped your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek so he could wipe away your tears. You just sniffled, feeling dizzy and almost confused. Your eyes were glazed, pupils blown out. He suddenly felt stupid, guilt invading his emotions. He was blinded that he near forgot you just went through a heartbreak ―to a complete asshole― but a heartbreak nonetheless.

"Hey baby, hey It's okay... I'm sorry. Look at me, Darling." He held your chin, getting you to look at him in his dark eyes. He was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down. He clicked his tongue, feeling an ache in his own heart.

"Buck...I-I-..." You couldn't speak. Instead, you retched out to snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Just... Kiss me... Please." He didn't waste a second after your words. Locking his lips to his perfectly. It was slow and sensual, unlike the rough and anger-filled interaction prior. His lips never left your lips as his hand finally touched where you needed him most. He might have been soft on you now, but as he thought back. It was like all the pieces were coming together. Mostly, every ex seemed to use you in some way. Maybe it was your kind heart that was too good for this world. Maybe it was your shyness that stopped you from ever complaining about the terrible company you had. Ex, friends, family. They were all the same in your life. And Bucky couldn't help but feel angry in your place. How could you allow someone as disgusting as your ex-boyfriend take advantage of you so easily? How could you allow him to go and mock your kind heart? You were too good for any of your exes. Too good for this world. And sometimes he thought you were too good for him.

"Fuck!" You muttered in the kiss, breaking away to gasp out as his fingers rub slow circles on your covered clit. Your body was surging with an electric feeling. A feeling you've never experienced with any of your prior partners. You were close, and Bucky knew that too, but he didn't want you to just let go without having something inside you. So he stopped. You pouted, eyes flicked open with a whine following. Buck just pecked you before sitting up saying sorry once more.

"Can I remove these?" He asks with the sweetest tone he could conjure, pulling at the band of your panties and sleep shorts. You gulped with wide eyes, nodding almost ridiculously. He smiled slightly, shaking his head.

"I need you to say it for me, baby. Can I remove your sleep shorts?" His fingers tangle in the fabric, drawing his face closer, "May I remove your pretty panties, Angel." He snaps the string of your black panties, making you gasp at the light sting. You feel so flustered, shyness taking over. His dirty words made you tingle and wiggle under his gaze.

"You make it sound so dirty." You groan bucking your hips upwards towards his. He had to hold back a moan his cock twitching in his tight pants, letting out a shaky sigh, he sits up to rest himself on his knees. Your legs hanging on either side of his waist. He tilts his head looking at you up and down.

"It sounds dirty, 'cause it is dirty, Darling." He had to laugh at your blushed expression, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. "Now, can I please take them off? Or must I use force?" He raises an eyebrow, growing pleased at your wide eyes. You finally reply with 'yes, please,' making him peck you on the lips lightly, dragging the soft fabric until it falls onto the floor with a quiet thud.

He stood up to take his own attire off, making sure to catch your body in full. It's like an art piece just for him. Your plump thighs look as if they were inviting him to grab a hand full of the soft flesh. The way you squeezed them together in a poor attempt to hide yourself made him feel a throb between his legs. It was almost painful to watch you, so unaware that you were fulfilling all his kinks and fantasies. All he has ever wanted was you.

He had to strip quickly unable to hold himself any longer but mostly because he was a heartbeat away from falling onto his knees, crawling to you and begging you to let him have all of you over and over again. and as his heart skipped that beat he craved, falling to his knees in awe onto the soft velvet of the sheet. He gripped your knees, gliding his fingers over your skin. Your stretch marks glistened in the light of the side lamps. They were like translucent battle scars to show how powerful and beautiful you are. He couldn't help but imagine kissing each and every one of them. But that was for another time. Right now, he needed to taste you.

"Relax, baby, I'm going to take good care of you. Do you trust me?" His nose brushes against your tummy, kissing your navel. You nodded over and over again, most likely looking like a silly bobblehead, but you didn't care in the slightest.

"Yes. I trust you with my life. Please, please, Buck.." You whimper, begging for him to do anything to ease the ache below, knuckles turning white from clutching the bed sheets. Your expression made Bucky weak;

"Fuck Darling, You're gonna be the death of me."

Bucky's tongue flattened as it glided up your heat, drawing a loud gasp to a high-pitched moan from you. His tongue seemed to lap in your juices even harder now from your sweet noises. He lost, indulging himself in your scent, in your taste. The grip of your thighs around his head tightened the harsher he became. He's watching your faces contort in pleasure. From his angle, you looked like a goddess, gifting him access to your body. He suppressed the anger that brewed in his gut, choosing to focus on the pleasure pouring from you.

"I-... James" You wiggled, feeling yourself all quickly slip into a haze. Your hand raked through your hair, not knowing where to put them. Buck took notice, knowing you were close. So he lent up slightly, giving you a cheeky smile before saying;

"Might wanna hold on, Doll." He chuckles, snaking his own hand towards your restless ones before bringing them to his hair. You gulped at his boldness, fingers now laced in his soft hair, tugging harshly. And as if your already choked sobs weren't enough, Bucky pressed the tip of his metal thumb to your clit, rubbing in a speed you so desperately craved for. His other fingers found place inside you, two sliding in and out so effortlessly from all the slick Bucky managed to create.

His humming against your head along with his tongue and fingers drew you to a complete drop, gasping for air as it escaped your lungs. A strange sensation erupted, feeling a heavy amount of liquid leave you. You sat up straight, pushing yourself up the bed, almost as if you needed to compose yourself away from Bucky's grasp. But what your eyes are greeted with left you blushing a new shade of red.

"B-Buck... I... I didn't mean to—Holy Shit." He cut your worries off before they could leave your lips. You didn't mean to squirt all over his face and tongue, and normal any guy you've been with would have found it disturbing but Bucky couldn't help but groan as he licked his lips and fingers of your sweet juices.

"That was the fucking hottest thing ever." He growled, grabbing your ankles to pull you towards him. You had to giggle at his desperate expression which in toe—made him giggle with you—.

"God, you are so beautiful. so perfect. Screw your ex and every other guy that did you wrong. They are missing out." His words made you cry, covering your face with your arm. You smiled through your tears, not cause you were hiding the sadness―well maybe a little―but it was because out of all the heartache you went through and all the pain you put upon yourself the one person that stuck by you was Bucky. How could you be so stupid not to see it until now? Why did it have to take him to sleep with you to finally see with a clear view?

“Hey, Doll. Sweetheart. don’t cry, my love, it’s okay.” He brushed your hair, soothing you. But you still broke down.

“Why am I so stupid? God, you must think I’m an idiot, being with men that want nothing to do with me and on top of that. I had a perfect, amazing guy who was already in love with me.” You hiccuped, trying to wipe away your tears. Silence fell, oh no, did I make it awkward? He starts to chuckle… Oh no, he’s lost it.

“Doll, please. Listen carefully.” He grabbed your face, looking at you straight in your doe eyes. “I have loved you the moment I met you. I love you so much that I was willing to wait for you whenever that day would come.” He kissed your cheeks, then you’re nose, forehead, and Jaw. Every inch of your face was littered with kisses until his lips finally met yours in a soft, long, and passionate kiss.

“James…” You breathed into the kiss making you pull away with a nod. “When we get a moment I wanna take you out. If that’s okay…”

“Okay? This is more than okay. What about tomorrow? I’ll take you anywhere, whatever you want to do. We can do it.”

“Well, what about for now we do….” You gained a smudge of confidence rolling your hips against his. Your legs snake around his waist, making Bucky bite his lip. He kissed you once more before leaning over to his side table to grab a condom. A tingle surged in your gut as you watched with wide eyes as bucky tared the packet open. You knew he was big but fucking hell.

“Ready?” He smirked, lining himself up with your entrance. You nodded, but he huffed “what did I say about words, Darling?”

“Please Buck5. I’m ready.” He held you’re hips, easing into you starting slow. You grabbed his hand, lacing his fingers with yours. A slight pain surge in you, but you breathed through it as his thrusts began to become harsher. His lips lacked onto any part of your skin they could retch as he sucked bright purple-ish marks on you.

His soft and passionate whispers against your flesh make you shiver with adoration. He praises you, telling you how amazing, beautiful, and kind you are. He squeezes your hand tighter, snaking his other hand from your hips to around your waist. Pulling you close to him so his chest is flush against your own. The tears that trickled down your cheeks stained the pillow and sheets below. All your emotions felt like they were heightened, and your senses were filled with nothing other than the flavour and scent of Bucky.

"Fuck, James!!" You scream, nails digging into his back. "Buck I-I..." You choked, whimpering at the tingling that brewed in your gut.

"I know, baby, let's go together. Okay. Hold me, close, Darling. I'm right here." His soft-spoken voice cooed amongst the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping. And like as if his words were what your body was searching for, you came hard. Bucky came shortly with the feeling of your tight pussy clenching him. His lips smash on yours once more. Feeling the overflow of the afterglow settle in.

Even though this started from hatred and anger towards your ex. He hopes he could make you come to see what he sees because he meant every word he spoke while his lips were on you. You were everything and more to him. And he will stop at nothing to prove it to you.

[lowkeyremi]

"I'M PREGNANT"

How they react when you tell them you're pregnant ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami (fem reader)

content: no curse!au, fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of infertility (choso), mentions of a miscarriage, established relationship (marriage + dating), children, families.

Gojo Satoru

Upon arriving home from another stressful day of work, Satoru looks around for his loving, beautiful, awesomest (his words not yours), girlfriend.

"UGHH I had a HORRIBLE day today. Baby, where are you so I can tell you all about it?!!" He takes note of how most of the lights are off and he can't smell dinner. Even on your worst work days you always make dinner, so there are two things Satoru can think of off the top of his head. A. You're out with friends and forgot to tell him or, B. Something is really wrong and you're hiding from him.

His stomach drops at the idea of option B, and as much as he'd like to eliminate that option it is very possible.

"[name]? Where are you?" He asks loud enough for you to hear it from your shared bathroom. You stare silently at the three positive pregnancy tests on the floor next to you. You know it's only a matter of time before he figures it out because he's used your real name instead of a pet name.

"If you're cheating on me then don't worry. I'll only kill the bastard who dared to make a move on you." If you weren't so stressed from your current situation you might have laughed at the fact that Satoru is a clueless idiot. Why would you cheat on him?

He starts walking deeper into the apartment. Into your room, you note, because you can hear his soft footsteps.

"Tell the coward to come out, babe. I bet he's in there with you fearing for his life right now." His voice sounds deadly but you know deep inside he's probably devastated thinking you've cheated on him.

"It's just me 'Toru. I.. I um. I need a minute." He shuffles outside of the door. If you're correct he's probably pressing his ear to the door to listen for another man's voice.

"I'm unlocking the door." He says, and fuck, you forgot that there's that little key at the top of the door to unlock it.

"Toru don't!" He unlocks the door pushing it open to reveal what's going on. It all happens too fast, you launch to try and close the door. In the process, one of the three tests gets kicked. His eyes draw to the moving object. They focus in on the test and he about falls to the ground.

"B-baby.. what are those?" The silence after his sentence is so loud that you could hear the busy city life outside of the bathroom window.

"You know what they are Satoru." He makes his way over to you embracing you so delicately like he'd break you if he squeezed any harder.

"Am I gonna be a daddy?" The question is whispered softly into your ear. Your tears fall landing on his shoulder.

"If you want to keep the baby, then yes." Ultimately it's not his choice, he knows that, but he also understands that this statement you've mentioned means you've already made your decision to keep the little baby forming inside of you.

"Fuck yeah I wanna keep it! Hope it looks like me so you have two adorably cute people to look at everyday. Also what the hell, my pull out game sucks!" He starts muttering to himself about how he could have sworn he hadn't cum inside of you recently.

All your anxiety subsides, and is replaced with faint annoyance when you roll your eyes.

"I'm having second thoughts." He doesn't realize you're joking because of how serious you look.

"Waittttttt I take it back!! The baby can look like you instead PLEASEEEEE PLEASEE KEEP IT." It's astonishing how your boyfriend can go from thinking you've cheated on him to being a sap in a matter of seconds.

Geto Suguru

"Sugu... can we go get some food?" This is the sixth night in a row you've asked this question. At first, Suguru just thought you had the munchies, but after observing you, he thinks there could be a different reason for your sudden change of behavior.

"It's 2:30 in the morning doll.." You sit up sleepily to check your phone and sure enough there are about two minutes until it's 2:30 am.

"How do you do that, Sugu?" He shrugs matching your previous actions.

"You seem to be having munchies every night? You getting enough to eat?" You nod meekly to answer his question. He suspects that you're pregnant but he's not sure how to bring it up.

"I have, but I dunno.. I've just been having these crazy food dreams that make me so hungry. I don't know where it's even coming from." He responds with a nod.

You take note of how he scratches the back of his neck, when he does that he's usually thinking.

"What's on your mind, Sugu?" He sighs inwardly as you get up out of bed to go make your latest craving: pork cutlet rice bowl with a fried egg on top. You didn't even really eat pork much but now you will destroy a pork cutlet bowl.

"I think you might be pregnant." You stop as soon as those words leave his mouth. The tension in the room rises as you try to find words to say.

"I- what? What makes you say that?"

"I mean think about it, last month I came inside of you like three or four times, which is enough to get you pregnant. On top of that you were testing out that new birth control since the other one was giving you weird side effects, and now you're craving pork. You don't even like pork." His reasoning makes since, but you're in denial right now.

"...That's a strong claim to make.... I mean what if it's just munchies?" He rubs his temple before getting out of the bed to join you in a hug.

"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying I think you are. If you are, you know I'll be there every step of the way with whatever decision you choose to make." He's so understanding, it's one of the many things you love about him.

For his sake you guys go out and buy a test for you to take. You took two of them, both showing a '+'.

"Well, it looks like you're gonna be a papa, Sugu." You say handing him the test, so he can see for himself.

"You're going to make an amazing mother, my love."

Kamo Choso

The both of you were clueless to the symptoms. He'd told you it's unlikely he'd ever get you pregnant because his sperm was tested, and he's very much infertile.

So, imagine his surprise when he sees a box of pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink while he's looking for a new tube of toothpaste.

You've already left for work so he'll wait for you to return to ask you about it.

He's excited, honestly. Choso has always wanted to start a little family with you, but he figured his infertility would stop that from happening. His doctor suggested adoption or a sperm donor. The two of you quickly ruled out the second option, it just didn't feel right to you guys.

The topic of adoption has been brought up here and there. You've both considered it deeply.

Choso can't sit still, he's off work today and the excitement within him will not fade away. All day long he's humming and practicing what he'll say to you when you get home. He even started looking at baby stuff.

When he hears the door unlock he's quick to act, greeting you at the door with kissing and smiles.

"Hey baby." His smile reaches his eyes, something it hasn't done in a little while.

"Hey, Cho. You seem to be in high spirits today."

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out the question without even thinking. Shit.. he was gonna try to ease into it.

"How'd you find out? Gosh did your stupid brother tell you? I was gonna surprise you!!" Confusion takes over your face when he gasps.

"You told Yuji before me? Baby.. how could you?" He's only half joking, he's a little bit sad, of course.

"I needed to tell someone!! I wanted to surprise you. I knew you were gonna be so excited." You pull him into a hug. He quickly reciprocates forgetting why he was even upset in the first place.

"Oh, I found out because the box of tests were under the sink."

"I probably should have hidden them better..."

Fushiguro Toji

Even though this is your second baby, telling him will never get any easier. When you'd told him about your first daughter he was indifferent about it. He'd go to great lengths to avoid you. Since you couldn't get through to him your only option was to call your step-son, Megumi.

He guessed that Toji was trying to figure out how to come to terms with being a father again. You had confronted your husband and he did admit to trying to understand the changes that would be made to your lives.

He said that his first daughter with you was his first and last child with you. You agreed with him because you only wanted a small little family. That was about three years ago. Here you are sitting on your bed looking at the test. Your daughter is playing on the floor with her toys.

"Mama, what wrong?" For her age she's quite perceptive. She must get that from Toji you think.

"Remember when you were telling Mama that you wanted a little sister or brother?" You'll break the news to her first. Her reaction will be the cuter and less stressful one.

"Mhm." Toji insisted on getting a bed frame that's somewhat high off the ground, so your little girl is standing right next to the bed waiting for you to pick her up.

Her deep green eyes stare deep into your soul as do your husband's eyes when he looks at you. She's sitting with her legs folded on your bed waiting for you to continue.

"Well.. you're going to have a little sibling." She springs up like a rocket, cheering in happiness.

"And when were you planning to tell me?" Your eyes quickly flicker over to the door frame which Toji is leaning against. There's a smug look on his face, nothing malice. Maybe he wants another one?

"Uh- Toji, baby, I was going to tell you soon. I just... Nami, my sweet girl? Can you go play with toys while mama and dad talk?" With ease she slides off your bed and walks out of your room.

Toji closes the door behind her ensuring she doesn't get nosy. "I didn't know how to tell you. You seemed really set on only having one.."

"I say stupid stuff all the time then change my mind. Do you really think I'd get mad at you for being pregnant? I'm the one who got you pregnant."

For once you don't know what to say.. you did think he'd be upset. Now that he's reassuring you all your anxiety washes away.

"I mean if it's another girl I might end it all." He's only joking, but you think another girl would be pretty funny.

"You're so stupid." He smirks at you, "You like it." Toji's not wrong, you do like it.

Nanami Kento

He could tell before you could. Everything started to add up when you complained about your back hurting, you hadn't mentioned period cramps in awhile and you seemed to be more clingy than Kento's ever seen you before.

It would make sense, he thinks. You'd gotten off of birth control last year and he stopped using condoms when you two got married. He wants kids more than you do, he believes. That want became more prominent after your first baby died three months into the pregnancy.

It would be cute to see you walk around with a round belly, complaining about little things like not being able to put your shoes on, or something of the sorts. He could once again experience that paternal feeling he felt awhile back.

"Honey, what're you daydreaming about now?" You ask joining him on the couch.

"Do you think you might be pregnant?" He asks suddenly taking you by surprise.

"I haven't really thought about it but it would make sense. The aches, cravings, yeah." If he were any normal man he'd get you a pregnancy test, but honey, this is Nanami Kento. You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for the next day.

When you arrive at your appointment with your husband the doctor has you pee in a little cup and he asks a bunch of boring but necessary questions.

On the drive home you notice Kento tapping the wheel to the tune of the song you're playing. He's never really liked your music tastes so he must really be excited.

"I can't wait to get the results." You nod in complete bliss. You're still trying to process the potential pregnancy. There was a time in the past; two months after you'd gotten off your birth control, you ended up pregnant but unfortunately your little baby passed away before being born.

There's hope in your heart that this baby is here to stay... a rainbow baby.

Within a few hours the doctor calls your husband telling him the results are positive. You're going to be a mother if this baby stays strong.

"We're going to be parents." He's so excited but he tries to contain his excitement.

"You're going to be a great daddy, Ken." He smiles dreamily at you. This is a dream come true to him. He couldn't think of anything better.

"I just know this is the one, Honey. We aren't going to lose this one." He tells you quietly with a little smile and you trust him. After all, Kento would never lie to you.

[petrapalerno]

Submitting to the Alien Barbarian: #2

Alien x fem reader, a dom/sub erotic short.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, gagging and violence.

MASTERPOST

PREVIOUS

“Hey, where are we going?” You pound your hand against his back. “You’re supposed to fuck me!” You grumble like a petulant child as he quickly moves away from the wild revelry happening behind you.

“Somewhere I can take my time with you, Human.”

“Fuck you!” You slam your fist into his back. “I said fuck me!”

You don’t want to be taken somewhere else, you want to join the orgy. 

He doesn’t listen, so you do the only thing you can think to get him to stop. You turn your head taking his flesh between your lips. Your teeth find the shell of his ear and you bite down hard, until you taste the coppery tang of blood. 

He stumbles, and pries you off his ear with rough hands and throws you flat onto your back, the red dirt swirls around you in the air. You lick his blood off your lip, staring directly into the barbarians soul. 

You barely have time to catch your breath before thick hands grab you by your hips and flip you over, forcing the side of your face into the ground. 

“Is this what you want?” He yells, ripping what’s left of your jumpsuit off your ass. “You want me to fill up your human cunt with my warrior’s seed?” One of his hand finds the slickness between your thighs while the other pushes your head harder against the ground. 

You can see his entwined cocks out of your peripheral vision. They seem even bigger this close. 

His thick finger thrusts hard into you, stretching your entrance before he begins pounding his even deeper yet. Your pussy clamps over his calloused fingers, you swear you’re almost ready to come just from his hand. 

“Could you even take my cocks in this tiny human cunt of yours?” He asks you as he moves his hand back to his own pulsating members. 

The loss of him has your pussy clenching over nothing, the ache in your core is almost unbearable. 

“Make it fit you coward,” you tell him, you can’t wait any more for release. You need this.

His hand leaves your head, and you turn to get a better look at his face. His throbbing cocks are notched at your entrance. Those eyes shine with some kind of viciousness you’ve only dreamed about, and you swear you can see something behind his visage snap. His nostrils flare, and you realize the time for talking is done. 

He plunges into you, and it fucking burns. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay, he doesn’t allow you time to adjust, he just keeps up his relentless rhythm. The pain and pleasure mix in a way you’ve never experienced before, and you make noises that sound more animal than human.

The coil of his cocks hit your g-spot with every thrust, and despite the pain there’s a tension as an orgasm builds with a hungry intensity. Your body wants this, it yearns to submit. 

“You’ll come on my cocks, and then milk me so hard that you’ll be dripping my seed for weeks. Your used cunt will belong only to me. You’re going to be marked forever in my cum, no one will dare touch you ever again. I’m going to fuck you raw,” The Volkroth bellows, his words coming faster as his pace increases. 

When he puts his hand back on your throat, squeezing the sides hard, you black out with how violently you come. The taught cord inside you snaps, and any pain left is replaced by waves of ecstasy. Your body throbs with pleasure from your toes to the top of your head. Every muscle seizing in a symphony of joy. 

In your boneless haze, you feel his body tighten. Inside you, his massive cocks move and unfurl as if they’re rearranging themselves. Your over sensitive flesh can barely handle the sensation before you feel something swelling inside you. He presses on the bulge he’s created on your stomach as he comes. His seed washes over your insides. 

He’s still coming when it begins to leak out and down your thighs. Your clasping walls grip onto him, and you feel locked together. 

Eventually the giant collapses on top of you, even though you expect him to head back to the crowd. 

“What are you doing?” You ask him.

“You took my knot…” He’s out of breath, and he sounds surprised. “We’re stuck together until the swelling goes down.” 

You flex your inner walls, and you can feel the bulge locking you together. Even though his body is still, his cocks continue to pump hot semen deep inside of you.  

“If you keep doing that with your cunt, we’ll be here forever, human,” he growls. 

Wrapping an arm around your back he pulls you against his body, your head barely reaching his pecs, and flips over so that you're laying on his chest. 

“So what happens after this?” You ask him, feeling like your body has not a single bone left to keep you steady. You catch yourself rubbing my face in his thick chest hair, totally blissed out after your experience together. 

“I do it again, and again, until I’m sure my seed takes and your belly is swollen. I’ll fuck your human cunt as many times as it takes to ensure my bloodline.” He tell you as if it’s the only obvious choice. 

“If I let you,” You whisper snarkily. 

White flashes behind your eyes as his hand smacks your ass. 

“You’ll do as you're told,” he says before closing his eyes and ignoring you. 

And you will. You’ll do whatever he asks if he keeps making you feel like this.

NEXT PART

[initialchains]

shadow of a heart | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke’s last day at camp and everything that comes with it.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: book spoilers and (shocker) luke being a bit toxic but its all internally

a/n: this is based on cosmic love by florence and the machine !! aka one of my fave songs of all time. sorry ik i disappeared for a while :( i hope this fic is good enough as an apology <33 also i think it is impossible for me to not talk about the stars and sky in a fic …

Luke could swear his heart was about to burst out of his chest. The sound of unclaimed children snoring and the sight of his siblings peacefully sleeping didn’t seem to help him calm down, he ran a hand through his face before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He had to calm down. He couldn’t risk fucking this day up. After all, waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and with his heart running a marathon wasn’t the most pleasant way to kick off his last day at camp. His last day ever. 

“Don’t fail, Son of Hermes. Unless you’re a coward,” The Titan’s voice rang in his ears, causing his breathing to come out short and his chest to rise up and down at a fast pace. Luke gasped for air, pressing his free hand against his chest.

His body reacted faster than his brain. His mind blinding him with a fog of fear. Fear of not being strong enough for the Titan Lord. Fear of being too weak to take out the scorpion he currently had hidden under his bunk. Fear of losing his only family. Fear of losing you. 

Luke had to take a second to remember the reasoning behind his actions. Reminding himself to not be scared, because why should he be scared? The gods should be scared, not him. If they hadn’t neglected and abandoned their children he wouldn’t have to do this. How dare they make him feel scared? After everything they’ve done to him, after all his losses, after all the times he had to press his hand against his mouth in the shower to muffle his sobs… why should Luke be scared? 

His heart slowly returned to its normal pace and Luke took advantage of it to throw his bedsheets to the side and step out of his bunk, walking in careful steps towards the door, making sure to skip over the pieces of wood that always creaked under his feet. The six years he spent under the roof of the Hermes Cabin helping him learn the best ways to sneak out without getting caught.

 At least something good came out of it, he thought. 

And even if he got caught, what would the children do? They admired him. He was The Strong and Brave Luke Castellan, the most skilled swordsman in the last three hundred years. The campers would be too intimidated to rat out their counselor. 

The certainty of his dominance over the campers was enough to fuel his last steps and open the door. Luke was greeted with a starry sky and a quiet night, the wood nymphs not humming in their sleep for probably the first time ever. He thought this was fitting. Camp Half-Blood being quiet on his last day. It’s almost as if the Camp was silently begging him not to leave.

Look at us. Look at how quiet it will be. Look at how dark the safe haven of the demigods will become. You’ll take the stars with you when you leave. 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the loud thoughts he was having. Luke had it all planned out, all he had to do was pack his things and leave. 

No.

All he had to do was pack his things, make sure the Son of Poseidon dies, betray his sweet and brave little sister, betray you.. and leave. 

Stay. Just stay. It won’t be dark if you stay. Don’t take the stars away from your family. 

Luke was sure he was going crazy. He probably has been for a long time but he became certain of it when he gave up everything just to prove his loyalty to The Titan Lord. 

But despite all the rage he had inside him, a part of him wanted to run straight to the Big House and tell Chiron all about his wrongdoings. He wanted to get on his knees and repent for stealing The Master Bolt and The Helm of Darkness. He wanted to cry into your arms and reassure you of all the love he held for you. 

How could a silent camp be so loud at the same time? 

Luke walked to the combat arena and took Backbiter out of its hilt. The weight of it not even coming close to the weight he felt on his shoulders. His hands shook as he stared at the blade, the mix of tempered steel and celestial bronze making him feel sick. A feeling of impending doom settling in his gut.

“It can kill mortals, demigods, and immortal divine beings,” He remembered his master’s words. Luke’s reflection on the blade stared back at him, his scar being more prominent than usual.

Was he cursed? Maybe he was doomed from the moment he was born. 

He was fourteen years old when he stopped believing in salvation. The thought of there being a paradise where he’d end up happy and in peace seemed impossible to him, almost unimaginable. He had been fighting his entire life, not ever knowing peace or unconditional love a day of it. Sure, he assumed his mother loved him before she turned into... whatever she was now. But he stopped believing in the goodness of the world when he packed his bags at just nine years old and ran away from his house. After all, that’s what it always was: a house, not ever really a home. 

He was sixteen when he found his home. After two years of grieving Thalia’s death and sobbing silently in the showers—not ever daring to let Annabeth see him as weak, he found his home. He met you. Someone who would listen when he’d ramble about his mother’s homemade sandwiches and cookies, the ones he always claimed were “Kinda bad and didn’t miss at all,” never forgetting to mention that his mentally unstable mother is probably so far gone by now and probably doesn’t even remember the recipe. 

Luke twirled the sword with his right hand, trying to get comfortable with the newfound weight. He stared at Backbiter, noticing how it even made him feel scared, the darkness it held made him want to sneak into the Forge and melt it down. 

He tried to calm himself down by remembering one of the thousand times he shared stories about his mother while you silently listened. 

“I mean it, she thought those sandwiches were the peak of cuisine and yeah, I was nine so I guess it probably was, but... really? She could’ve done so much better. I suppose I can’t blame her for it, I would be a mediocre parent if someone like Hermes was co-parenting with me,” He explained while playing with your hair, his slender fingers moving in a delicate way while he kept his eyes on the campers risking their lives as they flew higher than they should with their pegasi. 

You didn’t miss the way he laced his tone with disgust when he said his father’s name, but you knew better than to reprimand him for it. “Beckendorf is totally going to fall off that damned horse,” You chose the safe answer, changing the direction of the conversation to something more lighthearted. 

Luke snorted next to you before poking your side with his free hand, “You’ve been in this camp for three years and you’re still calling them horses? Gods, what would Zeus say?” You could hear his smile even though he tried to mask it in his faux angry statement. 

“What would Zeus say? I’m sure you would love to know, Castellan. You should ask him in two weeks,” You replied, turning your head to the left to face him and poking him in the chest. You took notice of Luke rolling his eyes when you reminded him of the most dreaded time of the year: The annual winter solstice visit to Mount Olympus. 

“Don’t tempt me, angel. I’ll even tell him my sweet girlfriend was the one who ordered me to ask him about it,” He said, before leaning closer to you and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, his hand moving from your hair to your jaw, caressing it in the tender way he always did. 

“Alright, alright. I get it, you win.” 

A bright smile made its way to Luke’s face, “Just another day on the job.”

“Just another day of you being a huge—” Your statement was interrupted by a loud thud and the sound of campers screaming, begging for a medic. The two of you were quick to stand up and run to the stables just to be greeted with the sight of a group of campers surrounding a clearly injured Charlie Beckendorf. 

“Fuck, Beckendorf. I’ll go check if there is a free spot in the infirmary for you but you need to be more careful when you play around with that horse.” You turned around, trying to ignore how worried you felt for your Son-of-Hephaestus friend, ready to sprint all the way to the Apollo Cabin. 

You were a few feet away from the stables when you heard a yell coming from behind you, “It’s a Pegasus, baby!”

You screamed back a “Shut the fuck up, Castellan!” and tried to ignore the wide eyes you got from the younger campers who heard the not so pleasant word come out of your mouth. 

Luke didn’t know how long he spent in the combat arena trying to get comfortable with the weight and darkness Backbiter had, but the sun was out and shining its bright rays down on Camp Half-Blood by the time he finally got tired. He panted and closed his eyes as he felt a wave of exhaustion take all over his body. 

He just didn’t know if he was exhausted from training or exhausted from keeping secrets from you. 

“Don’t get mad but that new sword looks kinda..” Your voice had him snapping his eyes open, the sight of you walking towards him making his body feel lighter. Luke felt so relieved to see you that he considered dropping down to his knees and breaking down crying over the weight he was carrying. If he hadn’t been in a public space he might as well have done it.

“It looks kinda?” He answered, running the back of his hand through his forehead, trying to get rid of the sweat trickling down from his hair.

“Kinda shit,” You continued. “I think the sword being double edged is cool but it’s stupid to have that. When would we ever maim a mortal? The tempered steel is useless.” 

Luke gave you a small smile before looking away from you. When would we ever maim a mortal? You’d be surprised, he thought. He looked up again to meet your eyes, a frown taking over your features. Luke’s heart sank when he saw your worried demeanor. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You whispered, walking closer to him and cupping his cheeks, running your thumb under his scar before leaning closer to him and kissing it. 

Luke hummed at the sensation, he always felt less ashamed of himself and his actions whenever you kissed his scar or caressed it. He didn’t understand why but he liked having the knowledge of someone not seeing the scar as proof of his blatant failure, he liked knowing you saw the scar as another beautiful part of him—a part you loved. 

He turned his head to the left, kissing the palm of your hand and replying with a low, “Don’t worry about it. You know how I always get when it’s the last day of Camp for the summer campers.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie. Luke always felt sick whenever this day arrived because he knew half of the campers he met this year wouldn’t be coming back. They’d be lucky if they even survived all the way to December. 

“No, Castellan. I will worry about it. If it’s important to you then it is important to me,” you answered, matching his low tone as you stared into his eyes, feeling captivated by the light they held inside of them. You were sure a star fell straight into them and that’s why they always reflected light and love.

Luke sighed and took your hand that was cupping his cheek, intertwining it with his.  “Fuck, I’m going to miss you so much,” he whispered, almost as if he was talking to himself. 

“You do know I’ll come back to camp for Christmas, right? Plus, we can Iris Message whenever you want. You don’t have to miss me, Luke,” you reminded him. Luke almost keeled over and vomited at the knowledge of you thinking you’ll see him again in Camp. 

“I always miss you, angel. I’m even missing you right now,” Luke answered, leaning down to steal a quick kiss just to be stopped by a hand pressed to his chest. “What the fuck?”

“You’re sweaty as shit, Castellan. Go take a shower and maybe I’ll let you kiss me when you’re done.” That was enough motivation for Luke to mutter an annoyed “Fine,” and walk to the showers. 

Luke spent more time under the showerhead than usual. It was his last day at camp, he reminded himself. He deserved to take a long cold shower without the worry of Mr. D getting mad at him for “Wasting the cold water on just himself.” He could use all the water he wanted because he was never going to step a foot inside this place ever again. 

Plus, he could use this alone time to think. Think about the finality today will bring. An end to his years at camp. An end to his loyalty to the gods. An end to his bond with Annabeth. An end to his relationship with you.

That’s probably what scares him the most–the thought of you deciding to go against him. He doesn't know if he should let you know about the things that were bound to happen tonight or if he should just keep you in the dark. 

Two frightening options: Bringing you to the light and showing his true self to you or keeping you in the shadows.. never fully knowing how broken and rotten he truly is. 

He tried to not think about the second option for too long. Because even if you did find out and he went through with Kronos’s plan causing the sky to remain starless forever, he knew you would choose to stay in the shadows for him. He trusted you and knew you would rather stay in the darkness than go against him.

The rest of his day went by faster than he wanted. He sparred with a few campers, got used to Backbiter’s weight by fighting some training dummies in the combat arena, spent time with his siblings, and sat next to you in the dining pavilion. It all seemed like a normal day at Camp Half-Blood. 

Well, at least that’s how it felt until Percy Jackson came back from his visit to Mount Olympus. 

The campers celebrated his return by lighting up fireworks and cheering his name every two seconds. It all made Luke feel sick. Why didn’t he get treated like that when he came back from his quest? All he got was a scar, looks of pity, and dead quest companions.

 No heroic welcome and no fireworks. Just burnt shrouds, mourners, and a feeling of self-loathing taking all over him. 

“Hey,” your voice made him drag his gaze away from the green fireworks lighting up the night sky. He turned his head to the right, meeting your eyes and raising a brow.

“I am pretty sure you owe me a kiss,” he said in a playful tone, taking notice of how the light of the fireworks illuminated your face just right, making the light look like a halo around you. 

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it is impossible for there to be no light and for the sky to be starless. There will always be light as long as your heart is beating and your eyes are set on him.  

“Huh, do I? I don’t think I do,” you replied, biting your lip trying to prevent a smile from taking over your face. 

“Oh, shut up,” Luke answered, finally taking your face in his hands and kissing you. He almost fell to his knees at the feeling of your lips moving against his. The kiss was like a comet’s trail, leaving behind luminous particles of Luke’s hidden secrets and unspoken desires. 

You pulled away first, trying to catch your breath as you kept your eyes closed and your forehead pressed against his. “What’s wrong?” you whispered, asking him the same question you did in the morning.

“Why do you ask?” Luke answered in between pants, his breathing uneven due to the intensity of the kiss you shared. 

“You were.. somewhere else when I walked here. Lost inside your pretty little mind,” you explained. Luke hummed when he heard your answer. 

“I just,” he sighed, pulling his forehead away from yours by raising his head. “What would you–” he cut himself off. “Never mind.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to hear it.” 

“What would you do if you woke up one day and the earth was consumed by darkness? And I mean complete darkness, no sun and no stars.” 

“Holy shit. Did you hang out with the Apollo and Athena cabin?” you held back an amused laugh.

“Just humor me for a second, please.”

“Alright, um..” you looked down, trying to formulate an answer to Luke’s strangely philosophical question. “I guess I wouldn’t mind as long as I could find you. I know I’d be able to find my way to you so I wouldn’t really worry too much.”

And that answer was everything Luke ever needed. 

He spent some more time talking to you, memorizing the way you looked under the lights of the amphitheater in your Camp shirt and necklace. Trying to enjoy it because he will never have this sight again. 

Luke excused himself with an “I have a gift for Percy, but I’ll come back to you. Just give me some time,” before walking all the way to the cabins and taking out the Pit Scorpion he had hidden under his bunk. 

There was no fear in his actions this time. His heart was beating in a steady rhythm and his hands weren't shaking anymore. The weight of Backbiter in its hilt felt perfect against his hip. 

There would be no fear in any of his actions anymore. Because he knows if he keeps you in the shadows you’ll eventually become a dark starless sky just like him.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hello

I saw your post about the linkuei trio arguing with the reader and I really liked it <3

I would like to make a similar request if it is not too much trouble.

What if instead of a kiss the reader slapped them?

author note: anon talks about this post. For this prompt I only got smut ideas, hope it's not a problem!

tw: smut, afab!reader, reader is referred as wife in Bi-Han part.

-Your husband is a idiot, head harder than concrete. It is easier to convince a brick wall to bend than making Bi-Han understand why he is wrong. -You want to make him understand that you also have power, that you aren't dumber than him, and that he needs to respect you. -Maybe the punishment doesn't look like one. Riding him in his office while leaning on his wooden desk sounds more like a prize than penance. -Your position is anything but comfortable, grinding your pelvis in his one, chests as far as possible and hands gripping the wood of his desk making it tremble enough for the ink to fall and stain the documents splayed on it. Not to talk about his fingers, digging painful moons into your skin -"Look at me the entire time." It's what you ordered at the start. Bi-Han didn't nod, your previous argument brushed off, already savouring your body. -And he doesn't listen to you, eyes piercing where your bodies meet, where your cunt drip on his skin and his cock penetrates you. The sight must be arousing, you feel him twitch inside you, a soft groan only trained ears could hear escapes his chest. -You slap him with the back of your hand, and he stops to look at you. His dark eyes look at you full of fury, ready to overturn you, making you cry for the outrage. -But Bi-Han doesn't have time to react. Your hand grips his dishevelled bun, pushing it down to make him look straight into your eyes. -"Look at me." You show your teeth even if your voice is barely a whisper. -There is fury, as intense as his one. Bi-Han has to admit that it is stronger than his one. He gulps and nods, lips trying to get closer to yours, but you keep him in place, your hips finally taking up the rhythm of before. -Maybe the job of the grandmaster's wife is to tell him also when he is wrong and not only nodding along his choice. -Maybe a good grandmaster should listen to his wife. Bi-Han needs to improve, but for now his only goal is getting fucked stupid by that hurricane that is his partner.

-"Why are you so stubborn?!" If Liang has something in common with his older brother, it's his hard head. Unwavering. Unchanging. Even when he is completely wrong. -"Stop screaming! You're hurting my ears." Liang snaps back, angry scowl prominent on his face. "If you stopped to talk instead of running away like a fucking coward-" and then something hits your face; it's the back of Liang's hand. -You know he hasn't done it on purpose, you've seen that it happened just because he turned around at the right time for your face to step in the movement of his arm. -His eyes widen, in fear mostly. Liang may be angry, but he'd never hurt you. -But right now you would, adrenaline making your mind not work. You slap him, straight on his right cheek. -You look at each other, gaze intense and breath heavy, but nobody dares to talk. -You are the first one to move, your lips finding your lover ones, hands already running on his body, trying to pull off his uniform by the collar. -Groaned excuses are chanted on your skin They come as fast as they go, Liang's warm lips running on the exposed skin of your neck and chest. -"You are more stubborn than a bull-" You are able to spit out in a rare moment where Liang's lips aren't on yours. "But you enjoy it getting fucked by me, just like a cow." Liang smirks into your lips, not before biting your lower one. -You steps toward your shared bedroom, hands and lips still keeping your bodies connected. -"But please, never hurt each other again." Liang whispers into your ear, in the last moment of lucidity before bliss takes over. You nod, completely agreeing with him. -"But in bedroom it could be nice-" "Then show me how you'd make a bull obedient, fireball."

-"Know your place, T-Tomas." you say sitting in the comfort of your bed, while your right hand plays with your clit. Tomas listens, or better his body doesn't move, still in its place, the pale skin of his right cheek red from your slap. -You are wearing just your panties and a matching undershirt, all grey silk and white lace, gifted by Tomas a long time ago. -Your hand is playing with your sex, legs open, but Tomas can see the imprint of your fingers playing with yourself, covered by the fabric of your panties. Your nipples are hard, he notices them hidden from undershirt. -Tomas is drooling, his mouth wet with the excess of saliva. "Y-You can just look. Don't you dare c-come closer." -And Tomas follows your order like a good dog. You can see his abs twitching, the tent in his boxer evident. -And honestly? So hot. -"Ah-I bet. I bet you'd love to have a taste of me" You pull out your hand from your panties, a drop of your essence stuck on your index finger, pointing right at him. -Tomas loudly gulps, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, blue irises lost looking at you, or better, at the droplet on your finger. -It takes a second for Tomas to sprint towards you, mouth already open and tongue sticking out, ready to savour you. It also takes you a second to push your foot into his sternum to keep him in his place. -Not that far, but still too much. -"Sorry, but this 'whore than just know how to yap' is busy. For sure, she doesn't have time for a dog like you." You spit out. You would be more convincing if your voice wasn't a whine and your eyes got more anger than tears in them. -Tomas can sense your weakness. He brushes your leg off his chest, and simply pull on the side your wet panties, tongue already deep into your core. -"T-Tommy!" Your hands immediately grip harshly his hair, some tuff escaping your finger. -His rough finger push into the back of your thighs, digging into the fat. Tomas keeps your legs up, far from his face to get as much movement as possible while eating you out. -If only you had a mirror on top of the ceiling, you could notice his back muscles flexing and his biceps twitching to keep your legs in place. -Your moans fill the room, your hands tugging on his hair, which means that your arms are close, squeezing your chest in a delightful sight. Now Tomas has to show you how good of a dog he is. -Later, he will excuse himself for his words.

[notafunkiller]

happy new year

Summary: On New Year's Eve, you take a bold step by approaching a stranger, with whom you form a connection.

Pairing: writer!endings beginnings frank x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 23, Frank is 42) teasing, dirty talk, pet names, oral séx, protected séx, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Frank (Endings, Beginnings) masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I think this will be a series, so I really hope you’ll enjoy it! Also, I want to thank @lavenderhaze967 for supporting me!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You’re not a coward...  You’ve never been, but as you pat him on the shoulder, you want nothing more than to run away.

What were you thinking? What are you gonna tell him?

You grab the glass from the table and try to turn around quickly, but it’s too late. You see him out of the corner of your eyes how he shifts, and now he’s facing you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You stop with a sigh, and you find yourself checking him out shamelessly.

His hair looks perfectly styled, but in that “I don’t give a fuck” way you always admire. Even when you try or not to care, it still ends up messy. And the whites in his beard make you feel a little weaker. He looks even more handsome up close.

“Well, hello there.” He smiles shyly before bursting into giggles.

You freeze for a little bit, taken aback by his smile and the way it makes his eyes glow.

“Hi.”

“Happy new year,” he says, still smiling, with his hands in his pockets. He looks so casual, yet so attractive. It makes you wonder if it comes with time...

You clear your throat. “Happy new year!”

You don’t like how awkward you sound, it’s embarrassing, so you need help. Without noticing he follows your gaze, you turn your head toward your friends, who’ve been watching you all along. You try to show them with your eyebrows that you need some tips, but the only thing they do is to give you a thumb-up.

Sighing, you look at him again and notice how his cute smile turns into a lob-sided smirk.

“Is that for me, darling?” He nods toward the glasses you’re holding, and you mentally slap yourself as you hand him one.

“Oh, shoot! Yeah!”

He snorts, amused. “Well, thank you very much.”

With a playful wink, he brings the glass to his mouth, taking a huge sip. Your eyes remain locked even as he licks his lips, savoring the aftertaste. The corners of his mouth curl into a charming smile again, and you sigh, feeling your cheeks get hotter, as he acknowledges your gesture with a nod of appreciation.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anything I can help you with? What’s the dare?”

You don’t know how to react for a second. What dare?

“I don’t know what you mean,” you murmur.

“Look, darling, I really don’t mind.” He chuckles, waving around with the hand he’s holding the champagne glass with. “Just tell me what’s the dare, and I can help you.”

Still caught off guard by his assumption, you smile politely. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand... Where did this dare idea come from? There’s no such a thing.” You look at him with a mix of curiosity and gentle insistence, wanting to know what it’s running through his mind. You feel so embarrassed.

“I mean...” He brings his free hand to the back of his head to stroke his hair. “I was young once too, you know? I wasn’t always forty-two, I promise.”

He laughs, but you’re still focused on the casual way he dropped his age. You wouldn’t have guessed he is over forty for sure, but that doesn’t change anything. You still want to kiss him. He, on the other hand, seems to care about it. Gosh, how would he react if he knew you’re just twenty-three?

“You don’t look forty at all.”

That is the only thing you find yourself mumblings, and you sigh as soon as you realize how biased that sounds.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he keeps smiling, so it must be a good sign, right?

“Well, don’t let my wrinkles or,” he pauses to stroke his beard. “My whites hear that. They might feel left out from the aging party and all.”

You can’t help but giggle, bringing your free hand to cover your cheeks, trying to hide your redness. He is casually bringing up his age, white hair, and wrinkles. Is he trying to send you a message?

“Sorry if that sounded weird. Your wrinkles are a part of...” You stop mid-sentence, not knowing what you’re going to say. You’re so silly. “I just meant… you look great. Um, yeah, sorry again.”

“So you think men in the forties look-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, panicking, but he laughs.

“I was just teasing, darling, don’t worry. Saw you turning to your friends earlier and I assumed you got dared to offer me champagne or something. I mean, why else would a woman like you talk to a fossil like me?”

Your eyes drop to his lips immediately when he chuckles. They’re wet and chapped, and you wonder how they’d feel against yours. His beard is long enough not to itch, so...

“You’re, uh, really hot,” you say bluntly before taking a huge sip from your champagne glass without taking your eyes off his face.

He frowns for a second, probably taken aback by your words, but he doesn’t get to say something as everyone around you starts to count. Almost midnight.

You take the glass from his hand and place it along with yours on the table.

This is it...

When the counting hits three, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes at the same time you get on your tiptoes, and crush your lips against his in a moment of madness. You didn’t want to have time to think twice, because you know you wouldn’t have done it. You never do something crazy like this. You’re never brave enough.

But it’s like you’re kissing a statue. He doesn’t respond at all, keeping his mouth and his arms completely still.

You step back; a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. “I’m so sorry,” you blurt out as you feel your cheeks reddening even more. You want to look into his eyes as you apologize… You really do, but you find it too hard. You don’t want to see the rejection or, even worse, the disgust. “I shouldn’t have done that, I am so sorry! I was completely out of line. You obviously didn’t want me, and I just crossed…” You fumble for words, mortified, and you realize it would be better if you just left. So you turn around, not even taking your glass. You just want to run away and cry yourself to sleep. You’ll have to leave this place earlier, since there is no way you could face him ever again. You shouldn’t have even approached him, you ruined his New Year’s Eve. God, you didn’t even ask him if he had someone! You simply assumed he is single because he didn’t have a wedding band, and you didn’t see him with anyone.

You take a few steps into your friends’ direction, crushed, but you feel his hand wrapping around your forearm, stopping you and, at the same time, turning you around.

You wonder if he’s going to scold you as you stare back at him, but he surprises you too when he moves his hand from your forearm to the back of your head, tilting your head enough so he can lean in and kiss you.

You gasp when you feel his lips, and he doesn’t hesitate even for a second to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue everywhere in your mouth, and you moan, feeling your knees weakening. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, let alone in public. It makes your attempt from earlier look ridiculous. You try to kiss him back with just as much passion, bringing your hands to his neck so you can feel him better. His beard doesn’t tickle your face, and his tongue is amazing.

You’re gonna remember this forever, without a doubt.

He breaks the kiss with a pop when you can’t breathe anymore, letting your foreheads touch gently.

“Now this is, indeed, a happy new year.”

“Thought you didn’t want it... me,” you whisper, still looking at his now red lips. You just want to kiss him again and cover his whole face with lipstick.

“The question is do you really want me like this? I’m an old man with a very messy fuck boy past. You know, I even used to do drugs,” he says seriously, but not moving away. It’s like he’s waiting for you to take the step back, and when you don’t, he continues. “You seem like a good girl, and I assume you’re pretty sober.” He pauses, waiting for you to confirm, so you just nod. “Good! But I don’t want you to make decisions in the heat of the moment. Even if it’s just for a night.”

Even though you understand being a good girl is not an insult, you’re still offended. He basically offers one night, so his past doesn’t matter. Fuck boy... you guess this is also his way of telling you he is single and doesn’t look for something serious. And you appreciate he’s warning you about everything. No man who’s still in that mindset would warn you. He means well, so you grab him by the collar of his shirt. “Do good girls kiss you without even knowing your name?” Your tone takes him by surprise. His eyes widen, and a giggle escapes his mouth.

“Still a good... and younger girl. Too young for me for sure.”

You sigh, getting on your tiptoes again.

“What if this good, younger girl takes you to her room and lets you fuck her?”

You don’t know where this comes from. You’re always straightforward, but not like this. And definitely not to a man in his early forties you don’t even know. But you really want him, and you deserve to enjoy yourself for a minute.

His eyes are big, but his smirk tells a whole different story.

“If you’re sure,” he waves around, signaling you that you can leave and that he’s in. Your heart is racing as you take his hand. “I guess you want to be my good girl.”

*

His hands are everywhere: from your hair to your hips as soon as you close the door, surprising you. You drop the keys and your purse on the table and let him guide you to the mini-couch. If you thought the kiss from earlier was intense, the way he kisses you now makes you completely breathless. He’s really, really good at it, and the way he’s grabbing your ass is actually perfect. Even though his tongue explores your mouth with almost desperation, you don’t feel like he rushes anything at all.

“It’s Frank, by the way,” he whispers against your cheek before he starts unzipping your dress.

“What?”

You nervously let the sleeves fall and then step out of your dress. Your underwear doesn’t match and you are not prepared for sex, but he doesn’t seem to mind, staring straight at your bra as if it’s his worst enemy.

“My name, darling.”

“Frank...” You repeat. It fits him, it sounds straightforward.

He smiles widely, bringing his hand to your back to unhook your bra.

“I hope you’ll keep saying my name tonight. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

You can’t even be mad at him for his lie.

“I somehow doubt that, Frank,” you snort, throwing the bra on the floor yourself. You keep your eyes there for a few seconds, not knowing what to do, but you feel his hands on your breasts before you can even say something, squeezing and teasing your nipples.

“You have the most beautiful tits ever. Wanna bury my face in them as I fuck you. Would you let me do that too?”

You can’t help but sigh, bringing your hand to his chin. “You don’t have to lie to me, okay? I actually ask you not to.”

He stops fondling your breasts, and you make eye contact. He seems a little confused and maybe even mad.

“I mean every word I say. I don’t need to lie, do I? You said you’re gonna be my good girl. So I do feel like licking your tits as I fuck you till you scream my name, okay?”

“I never said I wanna be your good girl, did I?” You ask, changing the subject, and bring your hands to his flannel shirt-jacket to remove it.

“No, you’re right. You wanna be my brat.” He bites his bottom lip as you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can, noticing how your fingers tremble. “Have you ever been called a brat before? Did they even notice you are one?”

“Do you always talk about others during sex? That’s a total turn off for me, just so you know.” You pull off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. God, please have mercy! You finally meet his eyes. “And no, I haven’t been called that before. You’re the first one. Does that stroke your ego or,” you pause so you can unzip his jeans. “Should I stroke something else?”

“No need to stroke anything. How about being a good princess and lying on your back so I can get a taste of your pretty pussy, hmm?”

You probably made a face since he brings his lips between your brows, stopping you from frowning with a kiss.

“Princess, really? Did that really get you laid?”

“I thought it turns you off to talk about other people,” he whispers as you lower his jeans and briefs at the same time, trying not to frown again at the thought of what you brought up. You know it’s silly and unfair to wish to be seen as unique, especially in the eyes of a man with experience like Frank, but you can’t control your thoughts.

You shake your head, wanting to snap out of it. One night. You have to stop overthinking for only one night... or, well, until you two finish. “You’re right. Let’s just…”

He steps out of the pool of clothes but doesn’t let you go to the bed or even look down, holding your face so you can meet his eyes.

“I haven’t called anyone princess until now, I swear. And I’ve never been with someone this younger, either.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Frank.” You smile. “I promised to let you fuck me, so...”

“Sweetheart, hey!” His voice is not just soft, but also comforting. You immediately notice his bottom lip between his teeth, though. “Tell me if you changed your mind. Tell me to stop any time. I know you can’t fully believe that, but I promise I’m not lying about anything. I can charm you better with my tongue than with some words I wouldn’t believe in. I found you incredibly hot when I saw you tonight. Checked you out before you came to me, but I realized you’re way too young and you don’t need this shit. I assumed you’re with someone.” His thumb touches your bottom lip, and you whimper.

“Frank...”

“I could come just by looking at your face. Won’t even talk about your tits. Whoever made you feel otherwise is a fucking jackass.”

You don’t know if you should laugh or simply kiss the hell out of him, fighting the urge to apologize, so instead you look down, straight at his cock and gasp. It’s thick and so, so hard. The precome on the head makes you wonder how it’d taste. The slight curve and the visible veins make it look even hotter.

You’re nervous since you did this only two times, so you certainly can’t say you’re an expert.

You gently grab the head of his dick with your right hand, stroking a bit with your thumb. It steals a moan from him instantly, making you feel proud.

After that, you drop to your knees without hesitation, not taking off your hands until you make sure you are close enough. You look up at him just in time to see him pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, shocked.

“I wanna suck your cock so much, but I need some... guidance. I’m not,” you stop shyly for a second to rephrase it. “I want to know how you like it.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, are you trying to kill an old man?”

“Why, do you see one with us in the room?” You take one hand off so you can bring your tongue to the head and get a proper taste.

You feel his fingers flying to your hair instantly, almost pulling, and you keep looking into his eyes.

“S-stop, I told you I want to eat you, now be a good-” he hisses when you take his tip into your mouth, playfully letting your teeth just graze him. You don’t know where this came from, but you just had the urge to do it. “Fucking brat!”

This time he actually pulls your hair a little, making you actually whimper when you lose contact with his cock.

“If you don’t like it, you can, uh, fuck my mouth. I never... But I-”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, leaning it enough so he can grab you by your waist and lift you until he can properly take you in his arms to carry you.

“Just shut up for a sec and listen, okay?”

You roll your eyes, licking your lips. “Or what? Gonna punish me?” You mock him before telling him your name as he drops you on the bed.

“Yes, I’m gonna punish you. Is that your real name?”

You move, supporting yourself on your elbows as he spreads your legs.

“Yes, why? Did you give me a fake name?” You get goosebumps when you feel his hands on the sides of your underwear. And before you can continue to question him, you hear the tearing sound at the same time as you feel the underwear fall on the bed.

What the fuck?

“No, but I never know with a bratty little girl.”

“Little girl? You’ve just ripped my underwear, Frank!”

“You almost bit my cock!”

You roll your eyes. He’s so dramatic.

“If I’d really wanted to bite it, you’d have no cock right now to fuck me with, so...”

He shakes his head, and you almost reach for those strands that fall recklessly on his forehead. He has such pretty hair, you’re jealous.

“God, look at this.” He sounds so fascinated as his fingers find your slit. Your body jolts in surprise when you feel his touch. “So wet.”

He smiles cheekily before bringing his finger to your mouth and pressing it against your bottom lip so you can feel the wetness. Then he kisses you with hunger, licking and biting until you open.

He doesn’t just deepen the kiss, he also moves and drags you with him until you’re on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says suddenly, making you freeze for a couple of seconds. Unexpected.

He starts leaving a trail of kisses on his way down to your pussy: from your chin, to your neck, the valley between your tits, your navel, then right above your entrance.

“I want you not to hold back, okay? If you feel the need to ride my face, please do. If you want me to use my hands or tongue in any way, tell me. Guide me... use me, I’m all yours.”

The way he says the last part makes you whimper. He wants you to use him for your pleasure… and there is something about this that drives you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Frank.”

He smiles, breathing out right against your entrance, making you shiver before licking. Fuck.

“Good girl.”

Your hips start moving before you realize what you’re doing, and Frank’s nose is brushing your clit, making you whimper. It was only for a second, but he immediately catches the sound.

He stops, and you open your eyes in panic. He told you to do whatever you felt like. There is no way he is mad about this, right?

He looks far from mad or bothered. He looks somehow more turned on than before, and the sound of him licking his fingers makes you shiver in anticipation.

You feel his mouth kissing your clit at the same time he curls a finger inside you. The moan escapes you before you can bite your lip, and you feel his smile between your legs.

You can’t help but rock your hips again, searching for his tongue, wanting to make him fasten the way he fucks you with his finger, but he is no hurry. He wraps his lips around your clit again and sucks slowly while his index finger stays unmoved inside you.

He’s a fucking tease!

Remembering his words from earlier but still hesitatingly, you let your back hit the bed and bring your right hand into his hair, pulling gently to get his attention.

He looks up, not changing anything, and you start stroking his hair. “Gimmie more. And... faster, please.”

You sound shyer than you wanted, but it’s the first time you have any kind of intimacy with this man. And it’s not like you have a lot of experience.

And thankfully, he doesn’t tease you more, getting another finger inside you, and he starts to pump them much faster. The way he sucks on your clit now is a bit different too, and it’s so good. You don’t even realize you’re pulling his hair until you feel his hand over yours, encouraging you to grab it harder.

“Don’t wanna h-hurt you.” It’s so hard to focus. “You have pretty... hair.”

The truth is that he has the prettiest hair you’ve ever seen, but you also never pulled your ex’s hair during sex. Ethan hated his hair being played with when he grew it out, and most of the time you wouldn’t even be able to pull it anyway since it was way too short.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Frank’s teeth teasing your clit. You’re extra sensitive.

“F-Frank!”

And it seems like he knows and he’s just messing with you.

This time, you don’t hesitate to move your hips, just not with too much force because you don’t want to suffocate him. But he seems like he does since he moans into your clit and starts basically suckling. You’re losing it. You’re losing it and you can’t even warn him. You’re coming all over his face with a hand in his hair and another grabbing the sheet under you.

He doesn’t stop any of his movements until you open your eyes and let go of his hair. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been pulling it, but you don’t feel bad, he seems to enjoy this a lot.

“You taste fucking fantastic.” These are the first words he manages to say between breaths, and in a second he is back on top of you, his lips shining with your wetness. You immediately bring your hand weakly to his chin and stroke his beard, which is also wet.

You shake your head a little, trying not to blush. He wouldn’t say that just for the sake of it... you can’t question it again, and you don’t know how to answer. What can you say? That he has a lovely tongue? So you choose to change the subject.

“Can I return the favor now, Frank?”

He frowns, closing the gap between your faces. “It is not a favor, princess.” And then he kisses you, giving you a taste of your own pussy. He’s not even trying to deepen the kiss, so you open your mouth, letting your tongue taste more of your wetness. His whimper makes you feel victorious, and you use it as an opportunity to explore inside his mouth. You can’t say you taste in a certain way, but at least it is not bad. Frank, on the other hand, has a taste you don’t think you’d ever get tired of.

“See?” He breaks the kiss. “Gonna get me addicted.”

You roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, now please tell me you have a condom.”

He freezes for a bit, and you almost groan in disappointment, but then he smiles. “Yeah, I think I have one or two. Old habit.”

You don’t say anything about his last remark as you watch him get off the bed and grab his jeans from the floor. You try not to think once again about how this will end soon and you’ll be remembering this night for a long time. And thankfully, he is back with two condoms, smiling as he opens one. He lets the other on the floor and before you can offer to help, he’s already ready.

“How do you want me?”

He looks at you surprised, probably not expecting this question, but you don’t know what he likes.

“Wanna ask you one more time... are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop-”

“I told you I want your cock, Frank. That I want you to fuck me.” You giggle nervously, spreading your legs. He didn’t decide after all. “Now please...”

“Need to fuck this doubt out of you.” He shakes his head as he positions himself between your legs, and before you can answer, he leans in, grabbing a pillow and placing it under your head. “Let’s see how much it takes for you to cry out my name.”

You’re not sure why you feel so nervous. He ate you out, you played a bit with his cock, yet somehow this makes you agitated.

You’re proud of yourself for not closing your eyes even after he enters you. Your body is trapped between his elbows, and you whimper, grabbing his arm to keep some kind of sense of your surroundings.

He’s much thicker than Ethan, and you find yourself trying to spread your legs even further apart, wanting to feel more of him. It’s something thrilling about this discomfort because it makes you crave more.

“You okay?”

“Ihm,” you gasp, trying to find your breath.

“Should I stop?”

“What? Why?”

You realize shortly after he giggles what he actually means, and you look away embarrassed.

“I meant inside you, darling. You’re, uh-”

He forgets what he was gonna say when you raise your hips to get him deeper inside you, and without asking him for permission, you wrap your legs around his ass. You need him all the way in even if it’ll hurt. You want to enjoy this to the fullest... every second of it.

And it’s absolutely a joy to see a man like Frank lose his focus.

“S-so good.”

“God, are you-” He moans when you rock your hips a bit more, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. “You’re perfect, fuck!”

“I n-need you to move, Frank. Fuck me, okay?” The more you try to fuck him the louder the impact of your bodies gets... from your slickness to his balls hitting your ass.

God, you never wanted to be fucked so hard more than now!

“Please, give it to me, I can... I can handle it.”

It’s like something snaps inside him because in no time you’re getting what you wanted. He’s fucking you and smiling in a way that you can only describe as devlish. It’s sexy, and mocking, and warm at the same time. It makes you lose your mind.

“Look at you, begging to take my cock, beg- fuck! Begging for me to fill this pretty pussy. So wet for me!”

You wrap your legs around his ass even harder, digging your heels a little into his cheeks when he starts pounding you into the bed. You can’t keep down your moans even though you try to. So you bring your palm to your mouth so you can bite it. But Frank doesn’t seem to like it. Not at all... He stops mid-thrust, making you cry, needing more, just to move your hand away from your lips and pin it to the bed.

“Under no circumstances, you’re allowed to do this again.” His tone might be authoritative, but his eyes are soft and warm. You can’t help but bring your other hand to his face to stroke his beard.

“Why not?”

“Be a good girl and don’t play.” He’s not waiting for you to respond, though. He lowers his face a bit more and kisses you, making it impossible for you to breathe as he starts thrusting again as well. The pace is faster, more brutal somehow than before. He swallows a few of your moans as you desperately cling to his shoulders, trying to gain some strength to roll your hips back to meet his. When you do it, he hisses, breaking the kiss just to murmur how wet and tight you are. How good you feel and how he’s never gonna be the same. You can’t focus on anything, especially not on his words. Your eyes are blurry from the tears, and you can’t stop moaning. It’s like you have no control over your body, and for once, it’s not scary.

You lose it, though, when he lowers his hand to your clit and circles it over and over again. It’s like something short-circuits your body. You’re no longer just holding onto his shoulders, either, you’re scratching them without realizing as you come still crying. The way you scream his name, on the other hand, is enough for Frank to come too, thrusting a few more times before falling on top of you; his head right on your breasts as the pleasure takes over his body. You don’t care how heavy he is as you watch him through the fogginess looking so content.

“Was it okay?” You whisper, caressing his scratched shoulder with one hand while stroking the back of his head with the other one. “Sorry for hurting you.”

“Did you just use the word okay to describe what’s just happened?” He raises his head before rolling over so he’d stop crushing you. “This is the best sex I’ve had in my life, Jesus! And hurting me? Please, princess, it was so hot.”

You snort, suddenly more relaxed. He enjoyed it. Probably exaggerating with the best part, but still...

“I guess you have a pain kink, Frank.”

A huge smile spreads on his face as he pulls you to his chest. You don’t care that you’re both sweaty, you want to cuddle with him. You only have a condom left, then you’ll be alone again. And you might never have this crazy sex ever in your life. The thought makes you wanna cry, but you need to focus on the present. He’s still here.

“Should I bring you some water?” You feel his lips on your forehead. “Gonna get you a towel. Want a snack? You’ll need your strength for round two.”

It looks like he’s in no hurry, so you take a deep breath and smile.

“Some water sounds great. I can clean myself though, no need to bother yourself.”

But he’s on his feet before you can even finish speaking.

“You better not move!”

[moviesismylife]

Cabin shenanigans

(Bat boys x f!reader)

Summary:

Where a game of “truth or strip” with the bat boys at the cabin, leads to a bit more…

Warnings:

18+, SMUT, oral giving!receiving, shower $ex

Mentions of alcohol

Nudity

Tropes

Poly!bat boys

Friends w benefits

Note:

Aaahhh this is my first time writing smut, so please be kind🙏🏼. I LOVE reading poly bat boys fics, like just being worshipped by all of them😩. Living my fantasy out. Also it’s mostly just reader being absolutely spoiled by them;)

Enjoy x

Y/n

I take a sip of my drink as I lounge on one end of the couch.

“Why don’t we do something more exciting?” Cassian suggest from where he sits in an arm chair across from me.

“Like what Cass?” Rhys asks looking at him questionably.

He’s sitting on the other end of the couch I’m in, also drink in hand.

“Like truth or dare” he suggests.

“That’s so boring” I whine.

“Yeah I agree with y/n. Isn’t there something a bit more…spicier?” Azriel asks from where he’s also sitting in an arm chair.

Me, Cassian and Rhys all raise our eyebrows at him, as he isn’t exactly the one to suggest these kind of things.

“What did you have in mind Az…” Rhys questions him.

“I don’t know…like maybe…dare or…strip?” He suggests.

I choke on my drink, and Cassian is just grinning widely. Of course he is. Rhys is smirking a little.

“Did you say strip?” I ask for confirmation.

“What? Are you a coward y/n?” Cassian asks me, raising his eyebrow.

I throw a pillow at him, and the other two just snicker.

“Fine I’m in” I say, chugging the rest of my drink.

Then I refill it to the top. I’m gonna need a lot of alcohol if I’m gonna be able to not get flustered.

“Okay I start” Cassian says.

“Rhys I dare you to fly around the mountains utterly naked…or strip” he smirks at Rhys.

“I do not wanna get up right now…so I guess I’ll have to lose something” Rhys answers as he puts his glass down.

Then he moves to remove his shirt, leaving him bare chested. He could have removed anything else. Seriously?

My gaze drops to his muscular torso covered in Illyrian tattoos.

“You’re drooling y/n” Cassian says, and I close my mouth that has unintentionally dropped wide open.

“Fuck you Cass” I say, flipping him off.

“It’s alright darling. Nothing you haven’t seen before right?” Rhys asks me and I roll my eyes at him.

Again he chuckles.

“Okay my turn. Cassian I dare you to…make out with Azriel” I say smirking at him.

“Say less” Cassian says as he heads over to Az and grabs his face to smash their lips together.

Azriel tumbles back but Cassian goes all the way in. I see how incredibly hungry the kiss is. Cassian is devouring him.

“Okay that’s good Cass. Looks like Az has had enough” Rhys comments.

I just smile to myself and take another sip of my drink.

As Cassian finally pulls away, Azriel seems very shocked and flustered. But not surprised. Cassian has been obsessed with him for years.

“Y/n let me ask you one” Azriel says, directing his attention to me.

“Alright” I say, putting my glass down.

“I dare you to tell us who you find the most attractive out of the three of us” he finishes.

“That is cruel” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

“It’s the game. Do it or strip” he shrugs.

I can’t answer this question. Simply because I do not know the answer. I’ve known them since I was a child. And I find all of them equally attractive.

I don’t say anything as I just remove my socks.

All three of the boys give me an annoyed look, and I quirk an eyebrow at them.

“What?” I ask.

They don’t even answer.

“I removed a piece of clothing didn’t I?” I say knowingly before taking a large sip of my drink again.

“Alright sweetheart. Let me ask you another” Rhys says as he looks at me.

“It’s Azriel’s turn” I protest.

“I’ll do it after you” Azriel says, as I curse him for letting Rhys ask me another.

I turn my attention back to Rhys and he gives me a slight smile.

“I dare you to take off your sweater” he smirks knowingly.

“What? That’s not fair. You’re cheating” I whine as the others just grin at me.

“Do it or take off another piece of clothing” Cassian tells me, and I roll my eyes again.

So I decide to just take off my sweater, leaving me in my bra and sweatpants.

Now it’s their time to gawk. All their eyes trail over my chest, and my lace black bra.

“Hey eyes up here dickheads” I snap at them.

They live their gazes up to meet mine and I can’t help but blush a little.

“Alright Az…I dare you to…leave a hickey on Rhys’s neck” I say with a mischievous smile.

Rhys seems every eager to this dare, but Azriel just takes his shirt off instead. Now he is also bare chested. Just great.

——————

I am now only in my underwear and so are the three Illyrian males.

“I say we stop here, before it goes too far” I suggest, as I don’t need them to see me naked.

Cassian has the audacity to whine, and I roll my eyes at him.

“Why don’t we go out in the snow instead?” Rhys suggest and I just look at him weirdly.

“It’s freezing” I say.

Azriel just smiles smugly. Then Cassian grins as well.

They all look at each other, communicating somehow before they turn to me.

“What. You’re scaring me” I question them all.

Then Cassian moves over to me, lifting me up under my arms. Rhys moves forward and grabs a hold of my legs and I immediately protest.

I kick my feet and slap my hands in the air, but they don’t seem to even notice.

Then they walk me outside into the dark cold and throw me into the snow. Azriel following close behind.

“Fuck!” I yell as the ice cold snow hits my skin. I immediately get up to rid myself of it, but I’m already soaked in it. Even my hair.

“You bastards. You’re so dead” I say as I lean down to make a snowball.

As they notice I do this, they start to make their own.

I throw mine right at Rhys’s chest, and he looks at me wickedly. Fuck.

Then I’m bombarded with snowballs hitting me, as I run away screaming.

“No fuck- stop- I’m sorry- don’t- please” I manage to get out in attempts to run away.

I don’t notice Azriel as he wraps his large arms around my middle, lifting me up.

“No…Az…” I warn him, but then Cassian smashes a snowball onto my head.

I let out a moan of pain. That makes them stop what they’re doing immediately.

Then Azriel lets me down, but keeps his hands on my bare stomach.

“I’m not staying out here, it’s fucking freezing” I say as I manage to get out of his grip, and run inside the cabin again.

I hear several footsteps following me inside, as I head into the sauna.

I perch myself on one of the benches on the second step and close my eyes at the heat.

Then I hear a door opening, and immediately smell their intoxicating scents.

They all settle beside, in front, and behind me. Then I open my eyes.

Cassian is at my right side. Rhys is in front of me, his back facing my legs. And Azriel is behind me, his legs spread out beside my frame. Making my upper body stay trapped in between his strong calves.

“Hello princess” Cassian says as he tucks some hair behind my ear.

“Hello Cass” I answer him nonchalantly.

He moves his fingers from my ear, down to my shoulder, and then down my arm, along my sides resting it at my bare thigh.

I close my eyes again, trying to not pay too much attention to the three muscular Illyrians sitting around me.

Suddenly I feel a few fingers in my hair, playing with some strands. Azriel.

I lean my head back to give him more access. And he immediately takes it. He starts to rub at my scalp, massaging it. That earns him another moan from me. But one of relief.

Again all of them freeze in time, like they’ve seen death.

I open my eyes yet again, to find them all staring at me.

Rhys has turned his head around and is gawking at me. I can feel Cassian’s piercing stare from beside me. And Azriel’s gaze I can always feel. But also the fact that his hands have stopped moving.

“What is it? Why’d you stop Az?” I question him, as I turn my head around to look at him.

“You need to stop making those sounds” he says sternly.

“What sounds” I ask genuinely confused.

“Those moans of yours darling. They’re insufferable” Rhys says from in front of me.

I turn my face to him.

“It felt nice. Azriel’s hands” I clarify.

“I bet they felt extremely nice” Cassian says grinning.

I turn to him this time.

“What do you mean Cass?” I ask him innocently.

He starts to move his hand on my thigh, higher, very fucking slow.

“I mean y/n. That if you’re going to make those beautiful sounds. You shouldn’t be surprised by what that does to us” he explains, his gaze darkening with hunger.

As his hand reaches my inner thigh, right where my hip meets the top, I draw in a sharp breath.

I feel something in my stomach heating at his touch.

“What do you mean” I repeat, even though it’s not really a question.

“Look down” he answers with a sly smirk, and I do.

I look right down to his huge boner. Fuck me. He’s hard as steel. From one little moan from me?

I can’t help but gawk at it, my mouth falling open, and my lips parting. I feel my mouth dry out, at the look of it. I can’t even see his cock, but I know it’s big, from his undershorts.

“You gonna take care of that darling?” Rhys asks from, still in front of me, his hand now slowly up my other leg.

Azriel’s hand has started to move down the side of my face, towards my neck.

I choke on my spit.

“I uhm…what…I thought we were just…I should go to bed” I manage to get out, sprinting to my feet.

But as I hit the floor, Rhys wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap. Right onto his own hard erection. What the actual fuck.

My back is in touch with his chest, and my hands go to his thighs as a reaction to steady myself.

Then his nose moves to brush against my neck and ear, and he leans in to whisper lowly.

“Where do you think you’re running off to?”

I don’t even answer him, as his mouth trails over the sensitive skin of my neck.

I let out a moan again. But this time of pleasure.

“Fuck y/n. I said stop doing that” Azriel groans form behind us.

“She can’t help it Az. My mouth feels to good on her skin” Rhys answers him.

Then out of instinct, I turn around, grounding myself on Rhys’s lap, my thighs draping over his own, and my hands curving around his neck.

He lets out a breath of surprise, but places his palms on my hips anyways.

Then I lean down to his mouth, so that they’re brushing against his barely.

“I really should go to bed…” I whisper.

“You’re not going anywhere love” he whispers back, before smashing his lips onto mine.

I smirk as I kiss him roughly back, my hands immediately tangling in the base of his hair.

I roll my hips into his, and he lets out a feral growl.

“Fuck y/n…”

I let out a moan myself, our mouths parting slightly.

But he pushes my hips forward, repeating the action, earning another moan from both of us.

As I keep grinding my hips into his, I throw my head back, my mouth falling open.

He takes that as an opportunity to smash his lips onto my neck, sucking and biting at my skin.

“Fuck Rhys…” I moan slightly as he leaves a love bite on my neck.

“My name sounds so good coming from your lips darling…” he speaks into the skin of my neck, as he continues to leave marks.

As Rhys devours me, my hips still moving into his, I open my eyes to meet Cassian’s gaze.

He’s eyeing me with hunger. His expression says nothing but lust, and he tilts his head to look at me properly.

I keep eye contact with him, as he moves slowly towards me and Rhys. He settles down on the bench beside us, his right coming in touch with both of ours.

With that Rhys withdraws from my neck and turns his head to the side to see Cassian.

“Couldn’t wait could you Cass?” Rhys asks him.

“I want my name to roll of her tongue as well…” he answers keeping his gaze on me.

My arms are still draped around Rhys’s neck, my fingers playing with his hair. Rhys is now rubbing soothing circles on my waist unconsciously.

“Then you’re gonna have to put that mouth to other use Cassian” I speak up, and both their gazes snap to me.

“You sure you’d want that princess?” Cassian quirks an eyebrow at me.

I roll my eyes at him, and move his hand to my thigh. Rhys just smiles knowingly.

“Why don’t you get comfy on Rhys’s lap sweetheart?” Cassian asks me as he moves off the bench.

I do as he says, and turn around again, my back facing Rhys’s chest. Cassian moves to the ground in front of me, kneeling in between me and Rhys’s thighs.

I feel two large hands wrap around my waist, holding me tightly. I lean my head back into Rhys’s neck, and he gives my cheek a loving kiss.

Then I feel Cassian’s hands trail up my legs smoothly. My own hands move to Rhys’s on my waist, clasping them on top of his.

The hands on my legs move further up, tracing the inside of my thighs. I inhale a sharp breath.

Then one of Cassian’s hands traces the outline of my underwear, and I whimper.

“Shh darling…Cassian hasn’t even started yet” Rhys says comfortingly into my ear.

Then Cassian pulls back, tying his hair up in a bun. Cauldron boil me.

My legs instantly spread wider as a response and he grins widely.

“You’re gonna have to remove this pretty little thing” Rhys says again, as he moves a hand to my underwear.

I only lift my hips in response and Rhys drags them right off me and onto the floor.

Cassian’s mouth drops open, and he stares.

“Cauldron you have a beautiful cunt. And it’s already so drenched” he speaks as he moves closer.

His hands land on my thighs, keeping my legs wide apart. And then his tongue latches onto my slick folds.

I throw my head back into a loud moan, as he drags his tongue through them.

“You taste so good…” he growls into my wet cunt, and I grab into Rhys’s hands.

Rhys just kisses my neck in response, leaving even more love marks.

Then Cassian’s tongue slides into me, and I moan again.

He swirls it inside my cunt, lapping and sucking kisses onto it. Then his fingers join in, once circling itself around my clit.

“Cassian…” I moan into the open, my nails digging into his hair.

His tongue continues to play with my drenched cunt, as his finger circles my clit. I feel heat building up in my core.

My hands tangle themselves into Cassian’s hair as he pushes a finger into me.

That makes me push his head further into me, earning me a feral growl from him.

As I keep pushing his face into my dripping cunt, he lets out several vibrating groans.

I feel myself closing around him. Only a few more moments now.

Rhys notices my squirming and decides to place a hand onto my clothed bra. Running his fingers over my peaked nipples, I let out a moan.

Cassian keeps pushing his face further into me, his finger curling and twisting inside me. The other circling my sensitive bud in a rapid motion.

“I can’t hold it-“ I whimper, as my thighs start shaking.

“Soak his face darling…” Rhys motivates me, as Cassian grips harshly onto my thighs.

His fingers dig into the flesh of my skin, surely leaving bruises. But I don’t care.

I don’t care at all, as I let myself go freely. My whole body twitching with pleasure, and my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

“Fuck!” I cry out in pleasure, as I spill onto Cassian’s tongue.

I keep squirting into his mouth, and he takes it all. His fingers pull out of me, drenched in my juices, and he only looks at me with lust, as he sucks his fingers dry. At that he groans.

“Look what a mess you’ve made of him y/n…CassIan’s drenched in your cum” Rhys says into my ear, as my cunt is still pulsating.

“I want…Azriel” I breathe out. Not forgetting the shadowsinger, who’s been awfully quiet the past minutes.

“You want him do you?” Rhys questions me and I nod.

Then as in command, the shadowsinger steps down beside Cassian, who’s still kneeling, and slips off his undershorts.

His swollen, hard cock springs free and I nearly moan at the sight.

I can’t tear my eyes away, and instead just get to my feet, pushing Cassian aside.

I get on my knees in front of Azriel, pinning up my hair with a ribbon. He grabs my chin softly, tilting my head upwards to meet his gaze.

“You look so good on your knees princess. Now be a good girl and suck me off” he grins darkly, and I palm him in my hand.

He only closes his eyes, as I run my hand back and forth over his long, hard shaft.

His head dips back, as he lets out a deep groan. I hear Cassian shifting behind me to settle himself beside Rhys.

I bring my tongue to the tip, as I lick around it. He groans again.

Then I decide to run my tongue over the underside of his long cock, licking a stripe.

I let my nails drag slightly over him as well, before I finally push him inside my mouth. He’s so fucking big. Bigger than both Cassian and Rhys, and they’re massive. Or at least I think they are.

I start to bob my head back and forth, my tongue running over his sensitive skin. His hands move to my hair, and he fists it in his hand.

I grip his muscular thighs, as I push myself further onto him. I take as much of his large cock as I can into my mouth, and using my hand for the rest.

He hits the back of my throat, and I gag. That makes him groan even more.

“Fuck y/n, you’re a pro” Cassian says from behind.

“Come on y/n, you can bring him to his end” Rhys encourages me.

I hollow out my cheeks, as I continue to bob my head back and forth. Azriel helps me by pushing my head forward. I gag over and over again, letting out a few moans myself, as I take him.

He continues to groan, almost like an animal.

I feel his dick twitching inside my mouth and I know he’s close.

“So close y/n…don’t stop” he motivates me and I don’t.

A few tears spill from my eyes, as he finally fills up my mouth.

“Y/n!” He comes with my name rolling off his tongue.

He squirts a handful into me, and I swallow every single drop. When I pull away, a few drops of his cum drips down my lips. I use my thumb to wipe it off, as I suck it into my mouth. All while keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

He groans again.

“The things you do to me y/n…” he says, and I stand up to meet his eyes.

He smiles a loving smile at me, as he gives me a gentle kiss on the lips. Forgetting that I just swallowed his juices.

A moan escapes his mouth, as he tastes himself on my tongue and lips. Then he pulls away, and looks into my eyes.

Cassian and Rhys comes up behind me us, and I feel two pair of hands wrap around me. I now stand in the middle of the three, tall, muscular Illyrians, and I feel tiny.

Rhys moves some hair from my neck, and leans down to whisper in my ear.

“You’re so beautiful darling…”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.

Cassian’s hand moves to my bra, as he traces a hand over it.

“Cass…not again…” I nearly moan.

“Relax princess…let us take care of you” he answers.

I let the run their hands over me a couple of times, let them feel their way over my body. Let them kiss and nibble on my skin. But then I push them away. They all give me a confused look.

I walk away from them, heading to the door, and opening it. Then I walk out and head for the bathroom.

I hear them following me, but I don’t stop. As I enter the bathroom, I strip out of my underwear and walk into the large shower.

I turn on the water, and stand under it, letting it fall onto my body. I soak my hair as well, as I run my hands through it.

When I open my eyes again, I am met with three pairs of eyes. Three pairs of hungry, lustful eyes.

The three bat boys are standing in the bathroom, right in front of me, as their eyes roam over my entire body.

I feel myself heat up again at that. But I ignore it, and go back back to standing under the faucet.

I hear some shuffling and footsteps, before all three of them enter the shower with me.

I open my eyes again to look at them. They’re all hovering over me, and I have to look up to meet their eyes. And they’re all naked. Great.

Just don’t look down y/n. Do not look down. But of course I do. My gaze drops to all their lower abdomens, to the three large cocks that hang there. Oh my fucking god.

I stare fit way too long, a breathy moan leaving my mouth at how they’re already hard.

“Eyes up here princess” Cassian says and my eyes shoot back up.

I swallow deeply, as I find all three of them grinning darkly.

Their own eyes drop to my naked body. Over my chest, stomach, thighs, legs and of course my dripping cunt.

I look at all three of them, deciding which one of them I wanna fuck first. Which cock I wanna feel inside me first.

I head for Rhys as I smash my lips onto his. He immediately wraps his arms around me, and I moan as his hard dick comes in contact with my wet cunt.

I bite down on his lips, my hands moving to either side of me, palming both Azriel and Cassian’s dick in my hands. They both let out groans of surprise.

I continue to make out with Rhys as I play with their cocks.

Rhys’s hands move down to my ass, grabbing a handful, and squeezing tightly. I moan into his mouth.

“I wanna fuck you…” he speaks into my mouth.

“Then fuck me…” I respond the same way.

With that he pulls away, and slams me into the shower wall. He moves one hand to his cock, and pushes slowly inside me. My eyes screw shut at the motion, and I let out a deep moan.

“Fuck Rhys…I don’t know I can-“ I start but he cuts me off, by moving his hand over my mouth.

“You can take it darling. I know you can” he encourages me.

And then he pushes himself the last inches inside of me, and I have to grab onto his shoulders not to cry out of pleasure.

“Cauldron boil me…” I moan out as he starts moving inside me.

Azriel and Cassian take a seat on the bench inside the shower, as they only watch.

My eyes move to them, as Rhys continues to thrust inside of me, and they only smirk.

I notice both of their hard, swollen dicks and I ache to touch them. Help them. Satisfy them.

Rhys moves deeper into me, his hands moving to hold my thighs, so he can thrust as deep as possible.

I try to keep my eyes on Azriel and Cassian, but I struggle as Rhys continues to destroy me.

My nails dig into his shoulders, and I feel myself clenching. I’m close.

“Rhys…I’m close” I breathe out, as he continues to thrust deep inside me.

With that he only pushes harder, his thrusts becoming slower and deeper. That means he’s close too.

“Come on darling…come for me” he encourages, and that throws me over the edge.

My walls tighten around his dick, and I spill myself inside him. He follows me right after, as his own juices leak into me.

“Fuck y/n…you feel so good” he moans as he rises out his orgasm.

As my release ends, I slacken in his arms. Already struggling to stand up from the orgasms I’ve already had.

Rhys notices, and moves his arms to my hips, as he pulls himself out of me. Then he raises his head to meet my eyes. He looks at me worried.

“Are you okay?”

I swallow deeply, and take a deep breath.

“Yes, I’m fine” I confirm with a slight smile.

He nods and gives me a slight smile back, before stepping away from me.

As he moves away, I suddenly get a glance of Azriel and Cassian again, still sitting on the bench.

My eyes dip down to their lower abdomens. Their cocks are still so hard and swollen, and I just ache to have them inside me too. But I’m not sure if I can. My legs are already wobbly, and I’m way too overstimulated.

“I…” I hesitate.

Azriel and Cassian’s gazes both soften at my tone and expression. Then Cassian stands up in front of me, the mother hen that he is.

“Princess? Are you tired?” He tilts my chin to look up at him.

I glance over at Rhys and Azriel again, and they both just look at me softly.

“I can take more…” I lie, or half lie. I do want them. I want both Azriel and Cassian before I go to bed. But I’m just so exhausted. My body feels so weak.

“Princess.” Cassian repeats, and I turn my gaze to him.

“It’s okay, if you’re tired, we can go to sleep” he comforts me.

“I do want you…I just” I don’t wanna miss this opportunity.

“It’s okay angel. We don’t wanna exhaust you. We can take it some other time” Azriel speaks up as well.

“But we had a moment…” I slightly argue.

“More moments will come. Believe me when I say that you will have the opportunity for this again” Cassian tells me with a slight grin.

I can’t help but smile at his playfulness.

“Alright then, but you’re still staying with me through the night. I will not let you leave” I demand them.

“As you command” Cassian salutes mockingly, and I can’t help but giggle.

——————

We’ve rinsed off all our sweat and scents, and I’m currently sitting at the edge of the bed, Azriel braiding my hair.

Cassian and Rhys are sitting pressed up against the headboard, ready for cuddle and sleep.

The need and lust isn’t as strong anymore, but my body is still very exhausted and tired.

“And done.” Azriel says, as he ties up my braid.

“Thank you…” I turn around.

He smiles, cups my cheeks, and gives me a loving kiss on the forehead. Then he pulls back, and sits next to the other two Illyrians.

They’re all dressed in pajama pants and cotton t-shirts. I’m wearing a cotton night gown, my hair now freshly braided.

I look down, fiddling with the hem of my gown, as I can’t look at them. I still feel bad for not letting Cassian and Azriel fuck me too. I said I wanted them, and then I just left them hanging. Guilt creeps up my throat.

“Darling, you’re still not feeling bad right?” Rhys asks, but I don’t meet his eyes.

“No I just-“ I cut myself off.

Then I lift my head to look at all of them.

“I’m sorry for blowing you off…” I look at both Cassian and Azriel.

“Princess, how many times do we have to tell you? It’s alright. We don’t care. All we want is for you to feel comfortable and safe” Cassian reassures me.

“But I-“

“No. You don’t get to apologize angel. You did nothing wrong” Azriel hushes me.

I sigh deeply and decide to slowly crawl over to them instead. I move in between Cassian and Rhys, as I tug the covers over my body.

Then I lay my head on Cassian’s shoulder, and I grab his much larger hand, fiddling with it.

I can feel all their gazes on me.

So I look up at Cassian through my eyelashes, and ask innocently.

“What?”

Cassian reaches out a hand to move a loose strand behind my ear, then he cups my cheek.

He leans down and pecks my lips softly. Then he mutters into my mouth.

“Beautiful”

I feel heat creeping up my cheeks. I don’t deserve them.

He pulls away from my mouth, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him. My lips are still parted where his were a few moments ago.

Then I decide to do something very bold. I grab his face in my hands, and smash my lips onto his.

He immediately falls a little back by the sudden action, but naturally his hands move to my waist. I move on top of him, my legs straddling his thighs.

Then I open my mouth to kiss him deeper, my tongue wanting entrance to his.

“Y/n” he pulls away. I quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s go to sleep” he tells me, his hands staying on my waist.

“But I’m giving you what you want?” I look at him confused.

Rhys puts a hand on my thigh. I look to him.

“Y/n. You need to stop trying to please everyone. Take time for yourself. Rest” he tells me.

I turn towards Azriel. He’s looking at me with that same pitying face. I don’t want their pity.

“I don’t need rest. I need to give you what you want. All of you.” I protest, my hand moving for the hem of Cassian’s trousers.

He stops me, placing his own hands on top of mine.

“Y/n. Look at me” he says, and I lift my gaze slowly.

“Let’s sleep. And then we can do this tomorrow”

I sigh. I suppose they’re right. I am quite tired. And I do need sleep.

“On one condition” I argue.

“And what is that?” Azriel asks.

“These” I hint for their shirts.

“Need to go”

They all smile at me, before moving to take them off. The shirts land on the floor, and I can’t help but drool a little over their muscular forms.

“Can we go to sleep now?” Rhys asks me, and I nod.

I move off Cassian, and back between him and Rhys, lying down on the pillow. They all lie down as well, the duvets pulling over us.

I turn my body towards Cassian, and he turns towards me. My leg moves over his, and my arm drapes over his bare chest. The other arm I move over his waist slightly. I snuggle into his neck, inhaling his scent.

He wraps a strong arm around me, pulling me closer, as he kisses the top of my head lovingly.

I feel Rhys shift behind me, as his front suddenly presses into my back. He also moves a hand over my waist, his face nuzzling into my neck.

I can’t see Azriel, but I know he’s lying behind Cassian. Mostly because his hand interlaces with mine on Cassian’s waist, as I snuggle closer.

I close my eyes, letting myself rest, as I finally feel comfortable. I feel safe. I feel loved.

[heeseung-min]

[22:47]

Cause you could be the beauty

And I could be the monster

Beauty and Monster. That's what people have been described about you and Riki. The first time the got to know about you and Riki date, they couldn't believe it because both of you are so different. Riki's image is cold and grumpy, he often being alone because not many people are brave to talk to him. Meanwhile, you are the bubbly person. People described you as the sunshine not only because of your cheerful personality but also because of your beauty. So, it doesn't make sense to them that you and Riki could be dating each other.

But that's what people said. In reality, Riki is not that grumpy. His personality is introvert and he is comfortable on his own. You were the first one talk to him and that's what made both of you became closer and finally date each other.

However,

Some people won't agree with your relationship. Despite Riki having cold image, his handsome face still gather some fans from other classes and those became your haters when they get to know their favourite guy got a girlfriend.

You were in a toilet when you heard some students murmuring about something.

"Erghh, I hate Y/n so much. You guys saw how she tried so hard to be cute in front of people, right? I bet she's the one who begged Riki to date her just to make herself more popular."

"Yeah, she's so fucking annoying. If I get a chance I will pour boiling water to her face. Bitch. I guess we need to teach her some lesson."

You hate it.

You hate those people who think they can easily do what they want in your life.

If they want to teach you a lesson so you should do the same too.

"Yah, you two. You guys really think you can do something huh?"

Both of them looked shocked and didn't expect you to come out from the stall but then they smirked and went closer to you.

"Well, you heard everything we said. Might as well we teach you huh?"

Beside his introvert personality, Riki also an observant person. Even though he didn't really interact with people but he can knows what is happening to his classmates or the teachers.

That means he also can see what happened to you although you didn't talk anything. It's obvious to him. The way your hair is a bit messy like someone had pulled it and your clothes. The button on the top was missing and there was a wrinkle on the collar. He immediately knew someone was messing with you.

"Who did it, Y/n?"

"Huh?! Do-do what?"

Your doe eyes staring at him confusedly. But, your boyfriend can see through your lie. He went closer and started to caressed your hair so it's finally went back to good position.

"Your hair is messy although I know you will not let that happen."

He took a small brooch and pin it on the top of the buttons. You felt scared knowing that your boyfriend figured out what had happened to you.

"One of the buttons is gone. It looks like someone ripped it off you."

You shockingly looked at Riki. Did he really figured that out from just looking at you?

"So tell me baby. Who did this to you? I really hate when someone hurt my love."

-------

-------

Because I'm the devil who's searching for redemption

And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption

And I'm a killer who's searching for redemption

A motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption

And I'm a bad guy who's searching for redemption

"Please! Please! Forgive us!! We won't disturb Y/n anymore!!"

The girls were crying and begging to Riki who was sitting in front of them. After successfully kidnapped both of them, he made the girls watched how he killed their parents. He even shove the meat to their mouth forcing them to swallow it.

"Huh, why are you guys being coward now?"

Riki giggled when the girls became silent. He stood up after few seconds and went closer to them while playing the knife on his hand.

"You guys can only do that to Y/n because she was alone. If it was at the public place, you won't even dare to lay a finger on her."

Riki light the lighter and let the fire went through the blade for few times. The girls were screaming and tried to back away from him.

"One thing I really hate about people is how nosy they are. Just like both of you and that's why you guys should die."

Cause you can be the beauty and I could be the monster

Hello everyone 🤓im back with yandere story!!! What do you guys think about this?😏😏 grrrr i really love when niki is the yandere

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @eeunoia @rowretro

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

-----

Eddie doesn't graduate.

He's stuck here for another year, and he screams into his pillow, throws himself a pity party for the better part of two days, and then drags himself back out and gets the hell on with it.

In Eddie's second senior year, Hagan finds his new liege in the form of fucking Billy Hargrove.

Hargrove and Hagan fixate on Harrington, who frankly, doesn't seem all that interested in either raising to their bait or defending his title. Eddie'd almost have respect for the guy, if it weren't for the way their shit gets everywhere. The mess he'd been watching over the last year starts to spill out and out and out, and there's something in Hargrove's eyes that, for the first time, makes Eddie consider ducking his head and staying out of his way. There's a bitter taste in his mouth, because goddamn, if he did even a quarter of the things Hargrove is, he'd be getting queer written on his locker instead of freak before the end of first period.

But no, when it's a jock obsessed with another jock, it's a vicious rivalry. Hargrove is new, and pretty, and dangerous, and the balance seems to shift and waver on whether the masses find him thrilling or distasteful.

Eddie can't wait to graduate and leave this all behind.

Some time after Halloween, he finds I don't need to go to the hospital scrawled onto his hip, and his heart lodges itself in his throat. He's never been more tempted to say something - anything - to make his soulmate go to the damn hospital when he needs to.

But he's a coward who doesn't want to open that door again, and a bitter part of him reminds himself that his soulmate probably has tons of friends - a girlfriend - to bustle him off to the hospital and fuss over him.

He's a little bit ashamed of himself for the thought, but not enough to make him say anything.

Around the same time, neither of the dueling kings show up to school for three days straight. It's not entirely unexpected for Hargrove, but the last time Harrington missed school was the year before, when all that stuff with the missing Byers kid was going down.

It gets people talking.

When they both come back, the buzzing intensifies, and things come to a head at lunch. The cafeteria had dimmed a little when Harrington walked in, looking like a fucking trainwreck, but his swagger is just as strong as ever and he sits down with some of his friends like he's just daring anyone to ask him about it.

Then Hargrove walks in, looking not nearly as bad but still pretty clearly messed up, and the entire room goes quiet.

It makes Eddie's leg bounce in agitation, every bone in his body screaming at him to get the fuck out of there, but his sheepies are looking at him for their cues and he forces himself to look bored with all this shit.

Hargrove's swagger is even worse than Harrington's, and he saunters across the cafeteria as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Someone asks him a question, too low for Eddie to make out, and Hargrove grins, wide and amused.

"Harrington and I sorted our differences," he says, loud enough to echo across the cafeteria. "Ain't that right, Steve-o?"

Hargrove licks his lips as he looks over at Harrington - and see, see that's what Eddie's talking about, Hargrove is looking at Harrington like he wants to eat him. Some part of Eddie perks up a little, because fuck, that is one attractive man, but once again the look in Hargrove's eyes kills it. He looks like a fucking predator, like if a fight does spring up he'll go and go and go until one of them is dead, and Eddie feels a chill over his spine as his eyes snap back to Harrington.

If they're suddenly friends now, Eddie's going to have to make a dramatic exit to go be sick.

Fortunately for Eddie's stomach, there's a flare of disgust in Harrington's expression before it smooths over, looking bored and unaffected.

He smiles at Hargrove, sharp and wide and toothy. "Any time you want to skip the foreplay and get to the main event again, you just let me know."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, firmly telling his dick to sit the fuck down, that any attraction he might feel for him should die the same way it does for Hargrove. It doesn't listen to him, not until -

Hargrove tips back his head and laughs, wild and frenzied, and there's a titter of laughter that scatters across the cafeteria - some of it uncertain, some of it mean, some of it genuine. Just like that, everyone's back to their normal days.

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mutters under his breath. "And they say I'm the dramatic one."

He hears a smattering of soft agreements from the rest of Hellfire, a couple of snorts of laughter, and that buoys him a little. He tilts his head, making a sweeping gesture that nearly knocks over Jeff's milk. "Well! It seems our entertainment for the meal is over with. What say we adjourn to get set up for tonight's club meeting?"

He doesn't look at Hargrove or Harrington. All the people in this world, the chances of his soulmate being one of them are pretty damn small, despite their situations fitting. He doesn't think about how both of them probably could have used a fucking hospital, doesn't let himself wonder which one is the type to deny they needed it.

Doesn't let himself decide that he'd so much rather it be Steve Harrington.

He really doesn't want it to be Steve Harrington.

—

Lies spring to life on his skin throughout the rest of the school year - not as much as last fall, but what he does get is… a little bit strange, a little bit personal, more so than Eddie's seen before.

Rabid dogs, you know, they're no joke.

I still think this is dumb.

You'd be surprised how many coyotes are in these woods.

I'm never going to play this thing with you, man, you might as well stop asking.

Nothing to worry about, all right?

I'm not lying, I'm totally fine.

Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington graduate with the rest of their class, that year.

Eddie doesn't.

Taglist (let me know if I missed anyone, and I'm always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman

-----

Part 5

[starogeorgina]

Twin flames

Warning: Swearing, age gap

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen OC

1.01

Notes: Viserys and Alicent’s children have been aged up to be aged 20+

Tears trickle down your face as you try to stifle a sob with the sleeve of your dress. The satin material covering your wrists appears darker than the rest due to your dampening it by wiping your eyes. If you weren’t in the library, you would have ripped the sapphire dress to shreds. Like most of your clothing, your husband had it specially made to match the gem in his eye, rubbing salt on the wound that was your sham marriage.

It was moments like these that you wished time could stop, at least for a few moments, to fully decompress the events that had taken place within the last twenty-four hours.

The previous night, you’d laid awake waiting for Aemond to return from riding on Vhagar, and when he eventually did, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. It was a telltale sign he’d been with his whore; not that you cared much about who he stuck his cock into; it was simply because you had an agreement that on his part he’d failed to keep.

“You’re never going to put a babe in me, are you?”

His silence was the answer he was too much of a coward to say out loud. Not having a child after four years of marriage made you a failure in the eyes of your family, not that your mother would ever believe it was due to your brother not wanting to consummate the marriage; of course the problem must have lay with you. There were many nights you thought about going to your other brother's chamber, you knew Aegon wouldn’t refuse to fuck you. The following morning, things got worse. Your uncle Daemon arrived from Dragonstone to visit his brother, your father, King Visery, and his mere presence had put Aemond in a more foul mood than normal. A lord from some house you’d never heard of before was stupid enough to question Rhaenyra’s son's heritage in front of the rogue prince, resulting in his being fed to Caraxes.

It was bittersweet seeing your uncle being so overprotective of your eldest sister and her sons when your own husband was most likely making you the butt of his own jokes.

Deciding you needed a distraction from thinking about the Lord being burned alive, your mother's shaming, and your husband's rejection, you survey the dusty books until you find one of your favorite historical books. 𝒜𝑒𝑔𝑜𝓃 𝐼'𝓈 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉. Sighing, you go to the chair in the darkest part of the library and begin to read.

—

“Isn’t it a bit late for reading Adele?”

Getting a fright, you almost leap from the chair. One hand rests on your racing heart while the other grips the book tightly. Frowning, you look over your shoulder to see your uncle staring down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Still startled, you only manage to speak one word, “what?”

“Is it not Adele?”

Of course, he didn’t even know your name. You look back down at your book and say, “No, it is not.”

“I’m just jesting with you,” Daemon says, coming to the other side of the chair. He crouches down so he is level with you. “I’m very aware of who you are, Princess Adela. I’ve heard many things about you over the years; the tales of your beauty have not been exaggerated.”

You keep your head lowered so he’s unable to see the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Thank you.”

A few moments of silence pass before the prince speaks again. “You’ve been crying,” he says, “do you wish to share your troubles with me?”

“Troubles aren’t something I share so freely, uncle.”

Suddenly he cups your face gently, and his thumb brushes your bottom lip from the left to the right, only stopping when it reaches the corner of your lip, gently touching the scar that runs down to the bottom of your chin. “It is wise to keep your own counsel, but tell me, what fate awaited the fool who dared lay a hand on you?”

You shudder at the memory. A phantom pain forms in the scar on your face and the hidden one on your forearm. You had heard many stories about your uncle's adventures in life, your favorite being the battle of the stepstones, so naturally you felt embarrassed to admit it was your own brother who hurt you by accident during a stupid argument.

You clear your throat. “You were right, uncle; it is rather late for reading. I bid you goodnight.”

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?”

“No, but thank you for the offer. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You leave the library feeling slightly flushed and head towards your bedchamber, hoping the knights and servants who surveyed the halls didn’t see how red your cheeks were. Daemon was more handsome than you remembered, and although he had only touched your face to get a better look at your scar, goosebumps still prickled across your body.

You need to find yourself another distraction before you let your mind wander too far.

—

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯; 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘷𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥; 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥.

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘵.

𝘈𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘢, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘖𝘭𝘥𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤; 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴.

“𝘔𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦!” 𝘈 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. “𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨.”

“𝘐𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴,” 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘥𝘴. 𝘗𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺. 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘴? 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸.

𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦'𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘑𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺. 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦; 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘱 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴; 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺.

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭. 𝘐𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥.

“𝘚𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘦.”

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴. “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.”

“𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘛𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦.”

“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴,” 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢’𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱. 𝘖𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.”

[etfrin]

“You make me so happy, it turns back to sad” - Gorgeous

Trans! Koby x female! reader

Warning - NSFW (fingering, m receiving. Sex. Edging.)

Summary - You were feeling conscious about your relationship instead of talking it out with Koby. You flirt with other men, which turns into communicating with Koby about your insecurities and then leads to sexy times :))

Of course, you knew Koby was an oblivious fuck. You found it endearing, it was among his many traits. But sometimes it was just too much when he didn't realize that you needed him not only sexually either. He didn't get the signs, he was your boyfriend for months now yet he was too shy to love you, to hold you.

It made you self-conscious, it made you fear you weren't enough. You were a coward, you couldn't bring this issue for fear of getting rejected.

Instead, you began to ignore him, it was subtle. You didn't even realize it, too deep into your self-loathe.

That was until the party that was being held on the marine ship today. You were Koby's date, and that man deserves the best. You wore a red dress, with a slit up your leg that reaches your thigh. It was rather daring but so pretty.

Koby came to pick you up, his reaction is immediate with a crimson red blush and wide eyes. After the compliments are shared, you walk the halls to the party.

You tried to hold Koby's hand only for him to pull away. "We shouldn't," he whispered with those same wide eyes, "Too many higher-ups." You clenched your jaw, that was... that was the last straw.

After this, you flirt with anyone willing. Smiling, twirling your hair, the whole deal with absolutely no shame. Most marines who worked under Koby were shocked at this but you didn't care. You couldn't bring yourself to. It was not until a man got too close to you, nearly in a kissing distance that Koby finally stepped in.

"Darling," he said, his voice raspy, "Could I steal you for a moment?" His eyes go to the man you were flirting with and you notice his jaw clenching. He.. he was mad. You've never seen him mad before.

You let him whisk back to your room. He pinned you to the door, his hands on either side of your head.

"What was that?" He asked, despite the hurry clear in his voice, his tone was kind. It had you seething, you wanted him mad.

"What was what?" You scoff. His eyes just reflected more pain from your words. "What's wrong? Did I do something? I am sorry, just tell me what's wrong," he whispered. You felt your hands turn into fists. "You don't even get it," you whispered to him.

You wanted to leave, but leaving would mean that you would have to leave him too so you finally spoke up. All about your insecurities and his shyness, how it made you feel. Koby listened patiently.

Koby nodded, "and your reaction was to flirt with those men instead of talking to me." His jaw clenched again. You knew it was inappropriate but him being mad was hot. His eyes glaring not harsh but still enough to ignite you. Your eyes looked down at the floor when you couldn't meet his gaze anymore.

You let out a harsh huff, "You know what kind of bitch you're dating, Koby." You knew you were toxic. You knew you weren't the best for him. You never were. You should leave. Leave him alone. Let him find someone worthy.

More thoughts came into your head, making your eyes tear up. "I should just leave. I am not enough. I am not-" Before you can continue, he interrupts with a kiss.

It was soft, it was beautiful, just like Koby. Tears were now falling down your cheek and Koby brushed every drop away. He kissed you as if he was compensating for each drop of tears that fell.

More tears fell as he continued to kiss you like this. When he leaned in to kiss you again, you grabbed him with his tie and kissed him back. Your tongues meet in a slow caress of heat. You pulled back, taking in a deep breath.

Koby whispered, "I will decide what's enough for me. You're enough. You're enough."

"Koby," you whispered feeling like everything stopped. Your thoughts, and your insecurities, are not gone but not crawling on your skin either. "Koby," you whispered his name again.

His eyes told you that he understood. He understands everything you mean. Letting your tears fall for a final time, you bring him closer to kiss you again.

You push him to the bed, straddling him as you both continue to kiss. "Koby," you whine as you take off his everything. From the stupid handsome black suit he wore to his boxers. All ended up on the floor. Your red dress, bra, and panties are included.

Your lips were latched to his, your tongue sloppy in technique but it didn't matter. Not with him. Never with him. His hands were in your hair as you kept kissing him. Your hands on his cheeks, caressing it, holding it in place.

His legs were spread for you, to make space for you. You pulled away, letting your gaze fall onto his pink cunt and his twitching cocklet. "You're so pretty," you whispered, your hand goes there, your fingers dipping into his wet slit but just a centimeter in. You hear his breath hitch.

"You're stunning," Koby whispered back. You felt yourself smile at the compliment. You pressed a kiss to his jaw before letting your fingers glide in. His walls stretch for your digits.

The hold he had on your head tightened. "Relax," you whispered to his ear, biting his earlobe. Your fingers go in deeper. Feeling his gummy walls, every crook and nook of it. Before you begin pressed into the spongy spot that made him gasp.

You grin when you feel his walls twitch around your fingers. You pressed kisses to his neck and collarbone. "As much as I would love for you cum on my fingers, love, can I fuck my pussy against you?" You asked him. His face was buried into the space between your neck and shoulder. He nods. You hear him say, "Please."

Both of you get into the position quickly enough, instead of him it is you on top. You let out a moan when your pussy finally got the attention it deserved. Your juices and his were now mixing as you slowly grind against his cunt.

His hands were on your waist, his eyes wide with pleasure as you rut against his pussy. You let out soft moans, your head resting on his shoulder. His face was buried into your neck. You were wrapped in each other.

The grinding was slow, it wasn't sex for either of you. It was more. It was everything that words couldn't describe. "Koby," you whine as you felt your clit rub against his cocklet, your fold clenching against his fluttering cunt. You both were making a mess of the sheets with your juices.

"Koby, Koby, Koby," you moan his name like a mantra as you feel yourself get nearer. You started going faster. Only for Koby to stop with his hand tightening on your waist. "Don't," he whispered, "Go slow, sweetheart. For me."

You wanted to argue. You wanted to be a brat. You wanted to cum. Instead, you take in deep breaths, letting the pleasure fade before you go again.

How many minutes had passed? Perhaps it was hours. You both were sweaty, still in the same position. You knew the sheets were soaked. You could scent the salt of sweat and the tang of sex in the air. You feel the slide against his cunt getting sloppier each second.

No words were spoken as you continued to edge each other like this, so close yet not falling. Only breathless moans could be heard.

Soon again you felt yourself on the familiar cliff of pleasure, so close to the edge. You pant against his neck. "Koby, can I? Can we? Please," you whispered, your voice raspy from the moaning, too out of it. You felt dizzy from the fog of bliss. You didn't have to wait for Koby to agree. He moved his hip in a way that felt just right. His cocklet pressed against your clit, both of your slits leaking juices onto each other folds.

You felt yourself released. You couldn't even moan from the pleasure. You were out of it now. Your mind is silent and your body is satisfied.

The last thing you felt before closing your eyes is Koby kissing your forehead.

This wasn't supposed to have (the hint of) plot but I blame Taylor Swift for it <33

[the-kr8tor]

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Total Word Count: 16k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mentions, CW suggestive, TW blood, CW injury, CW miscarriage mention, TW violence.

A/N: I've divided this chapter into two because of how long it is and tumblr wouldn't let me draft the post without the app crashing. So sorry for the inconvenience. I'll put the link at the end and on top.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 13 >>> CHAPTER 13 II

Hobie's throat feels like he swallowed glass. Yet, he screams until his lungs give out, until his body gives out. Fist pounding into steel, skin splitting, blood staining the metal, he continues to call for you. His ears could only hear your frantic yells, his name falling out of your lips, vomited out desperately, asking for him, calling for him to get you out.

He kicks and thrashes at the metal bars, his mind imagines the worst— nails ripped from your fingers, bones breaking, skin scraped and slashed. He doesn't need to imagine how it could feel for he had lived through it all, survived through sheer will alone. But he promised, he promised to you and in that hollow grave that it will never be filled with your body; that your own blood wouldn't spill in between his fingers.

Yet, like the knife that he is, like the one who breaks skin and bleeds everything he touches— he hurt you, shot you where you stood, when he should've protected you, shielded you from the bullet. But how could he do it when the bullet is from him? When he used the same weapon that has ended dozens of lives to protect his crew, to harm you; the only person he deems worthy of telling all his secrets, you, who is worth more than every single treasure in the world.

Maybe he should've listened to you and stayed on the island.

Hobie calls for you once again, in hopes that you hear him too, in hopes that his voice is enough to bring you hope. The lighthouse that guides you home. But he knows, he knows all you could hear are muffled sounds and the creaking from the rocking ship.

Your voice wavers, like you've been forcefully silenced. So he does the screaming for you. It's loud, tone furious, ready to scratch at anyone who gets closer.

“Hobie—” Gwen tries to get his attention as the door opens, revealing the two guards staying in the doorway, keeping their distance.

Guns are strapped to them, knives glinting in the lamp light, armed to the teeth. Hobie knows it's all for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” One frustratingly said, teeth clenched, hands kneading at his temples.

“Keep screaming and you won't get supper.” The bigger one utters, the large scar on his cheek tightens as Hobie taunts them with a grim smile. The smile he reserves to strike fear.

They stiffen in the doorway, shoulders straight, hands reaching for their weapons.

“Do it then.” Hobie says, voice guttural, hands gripping the bars. “End the screaming.” His sheer tone alone sends everyone's hair to stand upright.

No one in the crew dares to stop Hobie. He doesn't know if they're afraid just like the men in front of him or if they're biding their time to scratch and bite too.

“Come closer and end it.” He doesn't yell, and that terrifies the men in the doorway. “And you'll find out exactly what I did to Admiral Kinney all those years ago.” He can still taste the admiral's ichor on his tongue.

The hulking men share a look, sweat dripping off their brows. And with that, they shut the door behind them, returning to their post with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Cowards.”

If it wasn't a grim situation, James would've laughed.

Hobie hears Gwen sigh behind him, the liquid in her hand sloshes as she practically shoves it in his face.

“At least drink some water. For your throat.”

“No, ‘m not drinking that slop.”

Gwen has had enough, she takes him by the collar, eyes bravely glaring at her captain. “If you want to leave this ship and save her, then drink the slop, eat the fucking bread and keep your goddamn energy for when we get the window to escape. Screaming won't help, captain. It's not helping anyone.” Her jaw is set, eyebrows knitted together.

The rest of the crew stand on the side, ready to get between them if it gets physical. He'll never hurt Gwen, never even thought of it. But he can't stand the thought of his family standing against him rather than next to him. So he fixes it, you'd like it that way.

Hobie gingerly takes the cup, chugging it down in one gulp.

“Good, now eat some bread and sit down.”

“Y/N—” he starts.

“She'll be alright, she's a fighter ain't she?” He nods, “you know her better than us, so tell us, cap'n, that she will survive this.”

He roams his red eyes at his sparse crew. For a brief second he sees the ones he lost behind them. For the first time, he's glad he doesn't see you with them.

Returning his attention towards Gwen, he utters the words with the confidence of a captain.

“She'll survive this.”

—

Sitting down in the corner, he rests his poor throat, the dry bread didn't help much. It was shitty to say the least, times like this, he misses Finn. He'd beat him if he ever knew that he let the famous bloodsail pirates into the hands of a former admiral and you into the hands of someone you fear the most.

Hobie shuts his eyes for a second, he swears it's only for a second but when he wakes up with a start and the door opening with a creak, the moon is already shining outside the large boat.

When he sees you appear by the doorway, he thinks he's still dreaming.

“Ten,” He hears you say between gritted teeth. All he could focus on is you, checking for signs of an injury, he starts from your head—nothing, arms, also nothing, save for a few scratches. Then he settles on your bandaged leg, and he remembers what he did, what he did to you. Guilt and grief overtakes his body, he tries his best to hide into the background, into the wooden walls, to become part of the ship, to hide his shame. Because he hurt you, and he'll never forgive himself for what he did.

Hobie watches from his corner, defeated when you tell him subtly that you're alright. And when you called for him, called his name softly like summer wind breezing by, warm and reminding him of home— he couldn't help but oblige.

Who is he to deny the sky?

When you held him in your hands, he felt anew. Apologies spill from his mouth, eyes forlorn at the red spot on your bandages.

What is the tides without his moon?

He feels lighter when you forgive him. But his past action still haunts him, he knows it'll join the long line of nightmares that plague him at night.

“That's my girl.” He says truthfully and proudly, he feels your heartbeat hasten through your pulse.

You tell him your choice, your decision to give up your freedom for him and the crew. He feels like he was back on the revenge, facing Mathias, refusing to let you go as you offer yourself for their freedom.

His heart beats harder as you ask him to read your mother's letter. He's unsure why you would let someone like him read something as heavy as the letter. It's reserved for someone whose hands wouldn't stain the paper with crimson.

“Because I trust you.” You say, and everything aligns in his mind. Like Poseidon shaking him inside out, like the tides itself is splitting him open.

Hobie reads it with trembling hands and broken skin. Like he thought, it turns the paper pink like ink blots dirtying the pristine paper.

He dictates it, heart shattering at every tear you let out. Wiping your cheeks dry, he's careful not to let his split skin touch your softer ones.

“It's real, innit?” He asks like the earth isn't eating him whole.

“It's real.” You answer and the world caves in around him.

Hobie teases to feel the resemblance of normalcy, “little tomato?” He asks.

And you answer with a “I don't want them, just you.” Like you didn't just mend his shattering heart with one sentence. And you break it right after with a “We'll meet again, in this life or the next.”

He's terrified once again. He shakes his head as the door creaks open. “No, Y/N—”

As you kiss his wounded knuckles gently, you ask him something he can't possibly do.

“Don't follow me, please.”

Reaching for you, he should've read the last line in the letter to you. ‘Don't trust anyone’ it said, whatever it was, it's not your burden to carry, so he'll do it for you.

Hobie apologizes in his head for keeping it away from you and for what he's about to do.

—

With the dinner bell ringing, and heavy footsteps retreating, the crew takes their chance. The key opens the door smoothly. They sneak around the ship, only leaving shadows and footfalls that's barely audible.

Climbing up the steps towards freedom, Hobie spots a door at the end of a hallway. Like two hearts beating as one, he knows it's you behind it.

Miles takes his arm before he could come to you. “Don't.” He whispers to his captain. “Don't waste her sacrifice.”

“She didn't sacrifice herself.” Hobie shakes his head, scoffing quietly. “I can't leave her behind, Miles. I can't.”

“I know,” he pulls him away from the hallway. “she asked you to not follow, so don't follow.”

“If this was Gwen—”

“If this was Gwen we'd be doing the exact same thing. She wouldn't ask us to follow and we'll leave because she asked us to.” Miles spares a heavy glance towards your locked door. “I know it hurts, but we'd be in the gallows by morning if we don't leave now. We'll have another chance at saving her.”

“You don't know that.”

“I don't, but it's better to not know instead of being dead. At least we'd have a chance.” Miles tugs him further away. “Do you think it's better for her to think that she caused our deaths just because you took the chance?” His voice is determined.

“Don't hurt her like that, Hobie. It'll ruin her.”

With one last look towards your door, Hobie nods, following the others to the deck then to safety. As the dinghy drops down into the sea, and into the dark night, he hears Miguel curse his name.

He asks for your forgiveness silently.

—

Hobie and the crew finally make it to the docks without being seen by anyone. It was pure luck that no one saw or even heard them, he thanked the early morning and the still dark sky for lending them a hand.

“We need to wait for her.” He says, stretching his stiff hands from rowing the boat.

The sparse pirate crew hides in the shadows, hidden behind the dark alleyway. They lean on the grimy walls, hands cradling their fatigued heads, huffing and groaning at the aches and pains they had from their daring escape. They can still hear Miguel cursing Hobie's name, his voice ringing in their ears.

“Hobie,” Gwen calls for him. “Leave her be.”

“What the fuck?” Hobie turns sharply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we leave her alone.” Pavitr says forlornly, eyes downcast at the dirty pavement.

“We promised her—”

“That was when we didn't know it was her actual family. Back when we all thought Miguel was a threat to her.” Yuri pipes up, hands braced on her knees. Fatigued and clearly needing rest. “I love her, Hobie, I really do. We all love her, but she's with family now. Let her be.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Miles scoffs, “We're talking about the same person right?” He stands next to Hobie, arms crossed on his chest.

“C’mon, Miles,” Gwen says tiredly. “We all heard their conversation, it's real, she's noble—”

“And what of it?” Hobie snaps back. “You were too.”

“I was.” She scowls. “But she has a home to go to, a family that's waiting for her. We need to let her be until for whatever reason she decides to stay or leave with us.” Inhaling sharply, she rubs harshly at her eyes. “Let's make a compromise then. We're all clearly feeling conflicted. I don't want to fully let her go, we all agree right?”

Everyone nods, tension running high, glares thrown about the small group. Gwen continues, “Then we stay close to her, we watch her like when we used to observe potential crew members. But this time we make sure she is actually safe and not thrown to the wolves.” Her idea reminds Hobie why he chose her as his first mate.

“I'll keep first watch,” Hobie quickly says, "we switch after I say so.”

“And when will that be, Hobie?” Yuri clasps her hand on Hobie's shoulder, comforting the man. “You haven't slept a wink, add the fact that you were stranded on a bloody island for a month, you're not in the right state for this.”

“I'll be once I see that she's safe.” His voice cracks, “I didn't keep an eye on MJ and look what happened. I-I don't want that to happen again. Please let me do it. You can follow me all you want just let me keep watch—”

“It's Y/N,” James whisper yells, he peeks around the alley, watching you slowly walk down the ship.

They all clammer to see you ignore Miguel's helping hand. Pride swells in their chest, they remember now why they can't exactly leave you behind— you're family.

As if fate is pulling the strings, you crane your neck to look in their direction. The crew ducks away, but Hobie stays, staring at you, waiting for your signal, anything to indicate that you want to run away with them.

He sees your subtle shake of your head, and with that, he hides with his crew.

“Did she say something?” Pav asks, concerned for you.

“No, nothin’” He holds his heart in his hand. “She said nothin'”

—

Hobie follows you quietly throughout the day. Hiding from Miguel's watchful eyes and your sad eyes. The crew left to rest in an inn, Miles offered to come with him, Hobie's glad he did for he found an unhitched horse in a street corner. But it could only seat one so Miles, the angel that he is, let Hobie go on without him.

“I'll take care of them.” He promises before he lets his captain go.

They all know your house, they've raided their ships before. Crates upon crates full of luxury, with the same design on your necklace stamped on the wooden sides. Hobie knows them quite well, the favourite of the king, always giving them special treatment. Yet the queen holds them at an arm's length away, but she never left her eyes away from their business. He guessed sacking random ships has its perks, gossip is one of them.

Hobie silently trots his horse, eyes never leaving the carriage you just left. The cemetery sends his nerves alight, with the crows cawing in the background, he strains his ear to listen in. He's hiding behind the chapel, the irony doesn't escape him.

The truth is revealed to you, and unbeknownst to you, he has learned about it too. His head is in his hands as he listens to how broken your voice is, tone splitting at the seams. Then his heart stops when you tell your mother that you want to stay, that you want to find the person responsible for their deaths, that the same flames burning inside him now have spread to you.

Hobie doesn't want you to go down the same path he walked on, to let the embers singe your skin, to let the fire burn you from the inside out like it had with him. You helped him through his, helped him control it. Now it's his turn to do so for you.

He cares for you, loves you for all your soft touches and gentle tone. But he's prepared to love you through your jagged edges, through all the anger that's inside you. He'd love both sides of you, because it's you, and no one else.

His foot accidentally steps on a twig as he sees you leave. Hobie almost ran towards you when you looked at the source of the sound. This time he ducks away, knowing that there's eyes on you, eyes that are prepared to take you away the moment they see him. So he waits, until there's no more eyes on you.

The next time he saw you again was when you stepped out of the carriage and into the golden doors of the palace. He's terrified for what's to come, whether or not Miguel has brought you on a silver platter for the wolves to devour.

With his guns accompanying him, he readies outside the walls of the palace until you leave, until he sees you again climbing inside the carriage.

He can finally breathe again, he doesn't have to kill this time. Not yet anyway.

Hobie tries his best to stay hidden, he bribes and lies to get inside Hazelside. Then he waits, and bides his time just to talk to you.

—

“Hazelside estate,” Miguel says when the large manor looms over the horizon. “Your family has owned it for two hundred years. Passed down to every first born child of the family.”

Acres and acres of land stretch across the vast space. Primed apple trees and oaks line the road, men and women in work clothes walk near the carriage, not even craning their necks to take a peek inside. It seems this was a daily occurrence for them.

“Two hundred years.” You repeat, contemplating how many generations owned it. “So it's mine once the papers are signed? Where would my…uncle and aunt go then?” Your mind goes through a hundred scenarios where you stay and where you decide to leave it all again.

“They have their own house. Granted it's not as big as Hazelside but it's enough for them. Knowing his majesty, he'd take his sweet time from releasing the papers.”

“How well do you know the king and queen?” You ask, eyes scanning your family's land.

Stone houses are standing miles away from the main estate, employees of the house you think. Chimneys billow out smoke whilst the sun is just about to rise. You imagine them having breakfast with their families, sleep still clinging in their lashes, hot tea wrapped in their cool hands. Opening the window, the smell of fresh apples wafts over you. Home, you think. It smells like home. Or it just reminds you of the apple tarts Jessica made for you when you were younger.

“You alright?” Miguel asks, watching you frown.

“I'm fine, just tired.” You lied, in truth, you miss them all.

“You had a hectic day, I don't blame you. You'll get to rest soon, I promise.”

How could you even think of sleeping alone? After being near him? After saying goodbye?

“You didn't answer my question.” You shift your attention from the trees to the man before you. “How well do you know them?”

“I barely know the queen, but the king? Yes, short answer? He's a moron, a buffoon wearing a crown.”

Lyla snickers next to you, head plopped on the carriage wall, seemingly asleep.

You smile, “You have a monkey for a king.”

“Once you're the Hazelside duchess, he'll be your king too.”

“Christ.” You chuckle nervously.

“Don't worry, I'll help you get accustomed to polite society.” Miguel reassures you and you still have no idea if you'll stay long enough to bear the title.

“Polite society.” You say with a scoff, “What I just saw wasn't very polite.”

“Just remember, everything here is political. Everyone here is climbing the ladder, kissing the royal asses. Some are doing it for their families, some are doing it for their personal gain.”

“Which one do you think I am?”

“Neither.” The carriage stops, horses neighing, hooves stomping on the gravel. “You're not like them, Y/N, that's why you'll end up walking all over them.”

The footman opens the door, Miguel gives you a look before coming down the small steps. He reaches towards you, helping you down. You hesitate. You still don't take his hand even with your bad leg.

The wind blows cold, goosebumps appearing on your skin, face worried at the sheer size of the manor. The glinting silvered birds catch the early morning's sun's rays. Beady eyes seemingly blinking when a cloud passes by.

Vines cling to the ancient walls, small purple flowers run along the plant and along the large windows. Strong columns line the façade, laurels carved on the marble, oak doors displaying the house sigil— your necklace bearing a similarity to it. Flower beds cradling violets lay by the foot of the building, blooming and fragrant. The smell hiding your trepidation from the dozen or so people watching you with unreadable eyes.

The staff greets you with a stiff nod, they stand on the stairs leading towards the manor. Their uniforms are perfect, perfectly ironed and clean; perfect white gloves on their hands.

A couple of them help your drunk uncle off their own carriage. He groans, head swirling, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Fancy clothes sweaty and moist, neckerchief lopsided and dirtied by ale. In contrast to his wife, who looks tired with the heavy eye bags under her eyes, she still looks like a proper noble compared to Frederick.

“Freddy—” She groans, kicking her husband's leg, “get up!”

“Darling…” he slurs, “there's two of you—oh wait…now there's three!” His guffaw fills the quiet morning.

Victoria gives up, leaving the man to the care of her staff. She walks off, huffing and puffing. She gives you a glance, “what are you waiting for? Get inside.”

Her eyes flick to Miguel who stands behind you, she immediately clamps down her bitterness. “Welcome to Hazelside, niece.” With a stomp of her heeled foot, she heads inside, no doubt seething.

“Catty.” Lyla says next to you, elbowing your side. “C’mon, your grace, before the sun gets in their eyes and sends them into a murderous frenzy.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Something flickers in your peripheral vision, when you move your head to look, whatever it was, it's already gone behind the thick bushes.

“Y/N?” Miguel beckons you over. “It's cold out, come inside before you get sick.”

“Coming,” you call back, eyes darting around the thicket.

—

Miguel shows you around to your room in the west wing. Various historical paintings decorate the walls, wooden simple frames around them, showing the true beauty of the art without all the extravagant gold laurels around it.

Sculpted busts of your ancestors wait at every corner, marble eyes staring blankly at what's in front of them. Large windows line the walls, just outside the glass lies an expansive field of apple trees, bulbs of reds and greens adorning the branches of the mighty orchard. You stand in awe at the sight, workers start flocking the trees, picking and plucking at the ripest of fruits. The sun shines directly at the field, apples aglow with its light like red and green stars.

You lag behind Miguel as you gawp at the scenery, hand tucked inside the pocket of your gown, mindlessly rolling the pearl. Wishing the crew could see it too, wishing that he could see it and harvest the fruits with you.

Miguel calls for you, hand reaching but he retracts it back to his side. “Apples are new around here.” You genuinely smile at him, so he continues. “It used to just be hazelnuts, which still grow plenty in the estate.”

“Why the change then?”

“They didn't change, your family merely adapted. Your grandmother was the one who started planting the apple trees. Whenever she had a—” Miguel falters, you can practically see his brain turning.

“Had a what? I'm a big girl, Miguel, I can handle whatever it is.” You encourage him with a nod.

“A miscarriage,” he says lowly, “At the end of her life she planted seven trees. There was only one seed she didn't plant and that was when your mother was born.”

Your heart aches at the story even though the people in it are practically strangers to you. “Apple of her eye.” You murmur.

Miguel chuckles, turning to watch the vast orchard that spans acres upon acres of land. “It’s an understatement. She was spoiled, your mother. But she had a heart, most of her gifts almost always ‘gets lost’ somewhere.” He smiles fondly. “Strangely enough, it always ends up with someone who would benefit from it more.”

“Which one ended up getting lost in your backyard?” You smile at his rare grin.

“A lot, pocket watches, jeweled eggs, there was a kitten once. Only because her mother didn't like it.” He sighs, hazel eyes shining under the sunlight.

“You loved her.”

“I did,” he stares at you with kinder eyes. “She was my best friend, and so was your father. They both were.”

“What did you mean back at the carriage when you told me that they did the same to you?”

He swallows thickly, staring back at the outside of the opulent manor. “My daughter, Gabriella.” he says after a moment, “She was only a few years older than you. Your parents were her godparents, this was before they eloped and had you.” You can feel the strain in his voice. “She got sick…they poured everything into giving her the best doctors the country has to offer. They were at her side while I was drowning my sorrows in the navy. When they weren't by her side, they were with me. But in the end everything was all in vain.”

“I'm sorry,” you say genuinely, “I'm sorry, Miguel.”

He gives you a tight smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Even after all that they were still by my side, even when I pushed them away.” Sniffing, he subtly wipes his eye. “I didn't cross the sea and traveled thousands of miles to find you because I want us to be even. Or to pay the debt, I just wanted to find the last thing they left in hopes that I also find them in you.” His chest heaves. “I couldn't even say goodbye to them.”

There's tears in your eyes as he chokes on his own words. “I lost my friends but you lost your family before you could even meet them. And for that, I'm sorry, Y/N.” His hand shakes. “They didn't deserve what happened to them.”

“Tell me what happened to them.” You stand toe to toe with him, determined to get answers.

“Pirates, I told you they were pirates.”

You shake your head. “Do you really believe that, O’Hara? Or are you still trying to convince yourself otherwise?”

His jaw clenches, “It was pirates, Y/N.”

“Tell that to the former navy medic I call mother.”

He whispers, “the last time I looked further into their deaths I lost my Job, stripped of all my titles. I almost lost my house because of it.”

“Then tell me what you found.” You challenge him back. “Tell me who ordered it so I can live in this house in peace.”

“I don't have definitive proof—”

“Who?”

“Edward.” He says through gritted teeth. “He wanted to marry your mother, even going as far to ask for her hand. But when she refused him for your father—” he heaves. “I think he has probable cause to order the attack.”

“You were answering the man who might've killed my parents and wanted me dead?”

“How do you think that makes me feel, hm? I had my full trust in the navy, trusting the report they gave, trusted them with my whole life, even dedicating my life to them. And the moment I get a whiff of a planned murder on the only family I've ever had they bar me from the only life I've ever known. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I'm sorry you went through that but you could've done something.”

“He is king!” Miguel's voice booms around the hallway. He shifts his voice, pinching his knitted brows. “His word is law, I couldn't have done anything, even if I had proof.”

“You should've started with that instead of telling me lies, then I would've come to you without a fight.”

“There would've still been a fight.” He states matter of factly. “Hobie was ready to fight the moment I stepped below deck.”

“Could you blame him though? We both know not every single pirate crew is as nice as them, he didn't attack because you claimed it was pirates. Or that he was offended, he knows that he has done unsavoury things too. So what did you say that made him lunge at you?”

Miguel shakes his head, refusing to say anything. “It's best that you don't remember it.”

“Fine, be like that, just know that there will always be a wall between us.” Your heels clack loudly against the oak floors as you leave him behind.

—

The room they gave you was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the apartments in the palace that you explored. It's ten times bigger than the inn you were in, complete with your own bathroom and sitting room. It's all wooden walls covered in beautiful tapestries of various scenes from history— the thick cloth helps keep the heat inside. All the windows are wide open to let the cool air in and the moonlight. So you could hear the rustling of the trees outside, so you could smell the crisp apples. It helps, you think as you sit in front of the large stone fireplace with birds engraved in every corner of the stone.

You're already sick of the bloody birds.

You wrap the fur blanket closer to your body, still in your gown, refusing to wear anything else they've provided for you. You've heard of poisoned dresses before, it's far-fetched but you can't risk it now that you're in a more unfamiliar territory where your own family holds a grudge against you just for existing.

Especially now that you're alone in a large room filled with strange things. And with only his dagger to keep you safe.

Anyone would kill to be in your shoes right now, to be pampered and placed in a household that can provide for all your needs. If it weren't for the hunger in you, you would've left all of the gold in this house just to get back to them. Instead, the fire has you in its hold too.

Miguel's information only fueled the glowing embers in you, you're determined to find who killed them. But you're still restrained in this large manor, and until you can get your answers, you say their names to satiate the hunger.

“Edward and Mathias.” You say through shuddered breath, feeling if you could just say it louder, the sky would strike them down where they stood.

The pearl in your hands is warm, the shiny surface reflecting your scowl.

The flames mesmerize you as it dances in the kindling. Orange and reds illuminate your face, it's the only light in the whole room. You exhale and a puff of clouds escape your cool lips.

It's getting colder, and you're missing him.

Just when you're about to stand up to close the windows, a pebble lands near you. It thuds on the wooden floors, the sound gets your attention.

“What the hell?” You say confused. Standing back up, another flies through the open windows and into your room. “Who the fuck?” Speed walking towards the window, you almost get hit by a pebble if you didn't dodge it in time. “Hey!”

Fifteen feet below your window, you see two people dressed in their night clothes, bundled up in fur coats. They look up at you with wide eyes, like they got caught with their hands inside the cookie jar.

“Cousin!” One exclaims, a wide apologetic smile on his lips, showing you his perfect teeth. “Sorry about that! Can you come down?”

“Who in the world are you?” You ask, confused, you lean down to take a better look, hands gripping the sill for support.

“We're your cousins! I guess?” The girl next to him says, eyes shining in the moonlight, hand holding another pebble. “We waited to see you during supper and around the house but you were apparently hiding!”

“Alright, why do I need to come down then?”

“Because we want to properly introduce ourselves! Without screaming at you from below that is.” The girl shrugs, smiling prettily at you. “Please, cousin?”

“...fine.” you grumble, the dagger is still hidden underneath your skirt in case they're planning something nefarious.

They beam up at you, the girl daintily claps her hands. “Brilliant! We'll be waiting at the entrance.”

As you trudge down the unfamiliar sprawling halls, trying your hardest to not get lost in the maze-like structure. You accidentally encounter another painting of your mother.

Her name is etched on a golden plaque just below the portrait. This one was different from the one in the palace, she was stiff there, lips tightly closed into a line, eyes cold and empty. The one in front of you is warm, a soft smile on her lips, eyes shining and alive. Her dress is in lilac, golden stars adorning the bodice. She still wore the same necklace you're currently wearing, it rests perfectly on her neck. In her hand is a closed locket, you wonder whose portrait lies inside.

“Hi, mum.” You whisper into the cold hallway. “Where's dad's portrait?” You ask like she would open her mouth and answer back. With a sigh, you head downstairs.

Walking the ancient floors, the moon shines down at you, the light peeking in from the gaps of the heavy curtains. Silently, you meet with your cousins in the foyer. Carefully coming down the curved staircase, hand gripping the bannister, the boy who is about the same age as Miles meets you halfway. He reaches towards you, giving you a hand.

“I heard about your leg, I thought you'd appreciate some help.”

“You're Frederick's children?” You say, questioning whether or not you should take his hand.

“We are,” he says with a sigh. “Come on, cousin, or you might miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“The birds.” The girl waiting in the foyer excitedly says. “They're migrating.”

“Oh, I don't see why that would be so interesting.” You say as the boy flexes his fingers, beckoning you down.

“You’ll see why. Take my hand please, you look like our grandmother going down the steps.”

“Fine,” with an exhale, you take his hand. You hold his hand, a feather light touch that he barely feels, giving yourself enough time to react if he decides to do something.

“I'm Jonathan, or just John.” He says as he gently leads you down the steps. His stride is slow, waiting for your own feet to keep up. “And this is my sister—”

“Collette!” She suddenly clasps your hands when you reach the last step. “Sorry–” her tone is sweet and genuine, quickly removing her hands from yours. “I got too excited! I'm Collette, my brother and I are twins.”

“Unfortunately…” John says under his breath.

Collette jabs her elbow by his side, earning a groan from him. You see the similarities on their faces now that you're closer to them. From the slope of their noses to the curls of their hair, they look very much alike. Except for their eyes, Collette has emerald eyes that shimmer from the oil lamp she carries. While her brother has brilliant blue eyes that remind you of the sea when the sun shines above it.

You get reminded of him again.

“Who's older?” You ask teasingly, pushing the previous thought away.

“I am!” They both speak at the same time. John looks at her sister with disappointment, while Collette scrunches her nose.

“I'm five minutes older than you, Jojo.” She says with a tone you could only describe as annoyed.

“Father told me I'm the one who's five minutes older. Not you!”

“Sure,” she nods sarcastically, the lamp in her hand sways. “Because father was in the room when we were born.” Her head swivels to look at you, and you almost jump at how fast she moved. “He wasn't in the room.”

“Ah, I think I got it—”

“Like you could bloody remember.” John says with a scoff.

Before the argument could go on, you stop them with your hands on each of their shoulders.

“I need to sleep, so whatever you want to show me, just fucking show me.”

Collette stares at you with a gasp, eyes wide like you just said the darndest thing. Meanwhile, John has the biggest grin you've ever seen.

“Wow, cousin.” He says, amused. “I heard you used to run with pirates but I didn't know you got their vocabulary too. Hazelside would be more interesting now that you're here.”

“Gosh,” Collette exhales, clutching her pearls (literally) “I didn't know that word could be uttered by a woman.”

“You should try it sometimes. It's very freeing.” You chuckle at their reaction whilst you make your way outside. “Before we freeze to death, cousins?”

“The oldest should lead the way.” John takes the opportunity to rag on his still bewildered sister.

She groans audibly. “You're not the one with the lamp.”

You smile, there's a warm familiar feeling in your chest.

—

Leaves crunch under your bare foot, you've got blisters from the uncomfortable heels Miguel gave you. You'd take walking on bare feet rather than wear that torture device ever again. The only plus side of the fancy shoe is that it makes you feel powerful with every click of the heels. Walking along a path, tall apple trees carve a way for you and the twins.

“I like your dress.” Collette says right next to you, you sense her wariness by how she keeps her distance. “The color is beautiful, it's our house color.”

“Thank you, but I've been told that red suits me better.”

“Oh, I think they're right actually.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I'm slowly getting used to this one though.” You lift up your skirt a bit for emphasis.

“Is it true that you were shot?” John asks in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “We heard from the footmen that you were shot by a pirate when O’Hara rescued you.”

“I was, but that's not the whole story. Miguel didn't rescue me.”

“Really?” Collette's brows are raised in question and surprise. You nod at her question. “Huh, I told you we shouldn't listen to gossip.” She slaps her brother on his bicep, he winces, glaring at her. “It's bad to begin with.”

“That's the thing about gossip, Co, it's not always the truth.” He spits out.

“I knew that, pssh.” She crosses her arms on her chest, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Why are we out here again? If you're planning to ambush me—” Colette gasps loudly, like you've shot her.

“Ambush you? Do we look like we know how to fight?” She stops you from going further down the path just as you see a dark river at the end of it.

John knits his brows with a pout. “We're here to give you a warm welcome, cousin. We heard mother and father didn't even give you a tour, so I guess it falls on us to show you around.”

“At night though?” You gesture around the silence of the grounds, save for a few crickets chirping and the flowing of the lake, you're practically alone in the dark.

“Guess we're just living to our house motto, ‘carpe noctem—’”

“‘Seize the night’” Collette finishes her brother's sentence. “The ancestor who established our house was a gambler.” She shrugs.

“That's our house motto?”

“Nope!” Collette answers you. “It was our house motto.” She gestures to herself and her brother. “Before the crown granted us Hazelside, after—” John elbows her. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, what's the actual motto?”

“‘alis volat propriis—’”

“‘She flies with her own wings.’” You translate, the siblings look at you with awe. “There's latin in medicine.”

“You know medicine?!” Collette shrieks, the sound echoing through the dark.

“Brilliant.” John murmurs.

“Oh you must tell us more!” Collette loops her arm around yours, walking side by side. “How and where did you learn it?”

“I—”

“Don't pester her, Co.” John clicks his tongue, “have you cut anyone's arm off?”

“How grim!” She exclaims.

As they lead you towards the sparkling lake, you three chat through the night by the banks of the hazelside lake. They ask about the world outside the capital, they ask about the sea and the pirates you were with. You don't tell them about all the blood and violence, deciding that you shouldn't mar their innocent hearts with stories of death. It's not yours to tell, and you don't want to traumatize the only people who don't look at you with contempt.

“So you're not mad at me or even at least a bit annoyed for showing up and taking the estate from your parents?” You ask whilst the sun slowly rises, bathing the lake in bright blue. The hazelnuts in your mouth is a welcome one since you haven't eaten a single bite since you got to the capital.

“Not really.” John munches on his own pile of hazelnuts. He lounges near the water, hand cradling his head, chewing quietly. “We were surprised at first because there have been a handful of girls who claimed to be you. Who were obviously not you.” You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “But when they told us it was Miguel who found you, we were sure it was really you.”

“Wait— there were people who claimed to be me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Collette hums, sitting close to you, hanging on to every word you utter. “They weren't very convincing.”

“The story of Miguel trying to find you was pretty famous around here. I mean, the guy abandoned his post to find a missing duchess who may or may not be alive. That was a big story back then, so a lot of women threw their daughters and young relatives at the manor's gates to get a chance.” John informs you.

“We were quite young back then, but the fakes dwindled away through the years.” Collette finishes his statement.

“‘Quite young’ she says,” he scoffs, “we were barely out of the womb, Collette.” His sister sticks out her tongue at John.

“Huh, that's probably why I haven't heard of it either, I was still young.” You wonder.

“The sun's almost out!” Collette points at the clear sky. “Get ready, cousin, because you're about to see the most gorgeous thing.”

“The birds here migrate at this time of year,” John helps you both up to your feet. You surprisingly take his hand. “like clockwork. Collette and I used to watch it with our parents before they got all…well, too much. Now it's some sort of tradition for us.”

“Look look! The trees are rustling!” She points, jumping up and down.

“Any minute now.” John smiles at his sister as she half hugs him.

The three of you wait for a sign of the birds, a minute passes, then two, then five. Yet, not even a feather flies overhead. The early morning sun shines brighter with every minute that passes. And with every minute, the twins grew agitated.

“Why aren't they coming out?” Collette asks sadly.

“I'm sure they're just getting ready for the journey.” John reassures his sister with a pat on her shoulder. “My calculations are correct, why aren't they here yet?” He questions no one.

Their slumped shoulders and frowns get to you. An idea pops in your head, and you think it's all Hobie's fault.

“Maybe they're still sleeping.” They look at you simultaneously, “I mean it's really cold out, they probably wanted to stay in bed— or nest to sleep more. I know I would want to.”

“Oh,” Collette gives you a small smile at your attempt to make them feel better. “That's probably it. Thank you, cousin.”

You grin mischievously at them, “what if we wake them all up?”

John makes a face. “How?”

You inhale, putting your hands around your mouth, you scream, “wake the fuck up!” The sound echoed throughout the field and across the lake.

Your cousins let out a loud guffaw, you giggle at their reaction. John joins in, copying your actions.

“Wake up you wankers!” He yells, exhilaration filling his chest. “I've always wanted to say that.” Chuckling, he laughs louder at the face his sister is making.

“Johnathan!” His sister gasps next to him.

“What? Try it out! Come on then! No one's out here to tell us off.” John shakes her shoulder, giving you a wide grin.

“Join us in the dark side, Collette.” You sing song, “the birds need a wake up call.”

“You won't tell mother and father?” She asks the both of you. Wiggling, she’s excited.

Crossing your heart, you promise. “I won't, I'm not a tattletale.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Co.”

“Alright.” She exhales deeply before letting loud the loudest scream you've ever heard. “Wake up, cocksuckers!” It's so loud that you swear your eardrums are blown out. Smiling, she turns towards your surprised forms.

Now it's you and John's turn to gasp.

“Cocksucker?!” You exclaim, bewildered.

“Where'd you learn that, Co?!” John pokes his sister.

“I heard it when Mrs. Williams stubbed her toe during lessons.” She said shyly.

“Good on you, sis.” He pats her back. “Good on you.”

Collette looks at you expectantly. “Good show, Co.” You wink at her and she giggles happily.

Facing towards the thick trees across the lake, the birds still don't fly overhead. There's nothing but the wind rustling the branches.

“They didn't wake up though.” She says forlornly.

“What if we do it at the same time?” Your words have them smiling again.

“Yes!” They say simultaneously.

“Ready?” They both nod, taking in air before screaming their hearts out.

“Cocksuckers!” The three of you let out simultaneously. The canopy rustles and out comes a hundred or so birds from the thicket.

You all jump up and down, arms up in greeting the birds. Their feathers shine in the sun, light filtering through their wings. Iridescent blues and whites glowing, reflecting in your eyes. Wings flapping loudly, beaks held up high as they greet the sky with open wings.

Amidst the beauty of it all, you wish that he was there to witness it.

A tear slides down your cheek. You wipe it quickly before the twins notice. Head staring up at the sky, amidst all the beauty and light, there's a darkness swirling inside you. Amidst all the life around you, you feel the opposite. And you miss him. The worst part is, you see this place becoming your home.

>>> CHAPTER 13 II

[eldritch-spouse]

Someone who for whatever reason wants to get eaten by Vorticia and so goes to the gluttony ring hoping to find her. They by some miracle get to interact with her but when they beg her to eat them she’s like “lol no,” because it turns out they’re her match

[This is fucking hilarious. Fem reader.]

TW: Macro/micro themes; Vore.

Tightly tied to a chair, you can hear them talk behind the kitchen doors.

" You're telling me you just found this one trying to break into the premises?! " The short imp you've only caught glimpses of so far sounds exasperated.

" Yes... " The much taller demon with a dark mane replies. " She wasn't very successful, but I'm fairly certain her goal was to get caught. "

" And she said she wants to get eaten. " It's not even a question.

" By mother. Specifically her. "

There's a beat of silence.

" Vorago. You can't expect me to present a fetishist to your mother. That is ridicu- "

" Is it? I would much prefer if my meals walked directly into the plate. " The prince counters. " You're doing the poor thing a favor. I've advocated for this in the past as well, think about the time and resources we could spare during ceremonies if we take in people just like her. "

" My prince- "

" Do you like chasing after them, dad? Do you enjoy spending money on increasingly expensive hunting services? "

Dad?! That little imp? Imp-ressive.

" No, but we can't just- "

" Then give this a shot, perhaps it'll open your eyes to more sustainable alternatives. "

An unmistakable defeated sigh rings out. " ... Fine. "

You smile silently, happy that the tusked high-ranker who caught you managed to get your dream to come true. For such a scary-looking guy, he's actually not that bad.

When the doors part, your head snaps towards the curly-horned imp. They spare you a skeptical glance.

" It looks like you're getting what you want after all. "

" Yes! " The cheer is immediate and juvenile, met with a grimace.

" ... Right. " They're clearly uncomfortable. " Undress please. "

Words cannot describe how wildly your heart is beating within your ribcage.

You've been dreaming of this day ever since you discovered the nuances of your sexuality. Queen Vorticia is the most gorgeous, regal, seductive demoness to ever slither upon this galaxy and to feel the caress of her tongue would bring you to a level so beyond Nirvana that you have to contain a freakish noise of delight just thinking about it. Not that it would have escaped very fair, with the strange fruit crammed in your mouth- It's starting to hurt your jaw a little actually...

Yes, you're not the most normal of humans, but that hardly matters now.

The cart you're laid upon is wheeled towards what you assume must be the main dining hall of Gluttony's mansion. The pace is slow, the imps in charge of transporting you dare not displace a single element of your large plate's design. See, upon hearing about your situation through the curly-horned imp, the chefs present decided that it would only be fitting if you got properly and excellently decorated for the occasion.

A few of them sympathized with your situation. Few things are as romantic as loving someone so much that you would like to become a part of them, be consumed by them. One of the girls was a bit emotional hearing you talk so sweetly about the Queen. All in all, you feel lucky to have gotten this far so smoothly.

A noise from beyond crashes your train of thought.

A crash. Hissing.

The imps pushing your cart whimper and look at each other fearfully.

Ah, a tempestuous mood. You wonder what has the Queen like that.

Your chaperones slow down even more, and if you could, you'd stomp your foot on the cart to make them hurry up. You're not about to be left stranded in this hall because these cowards are doubting their life's decisions.

Finally, oh finally, you can see the tall, intricately carved doors to the dinning hall. The last room you'll ever be in, if all goes according to plan. The realization breeds a heavy feeling that causes shortness of breath in you, but for some odd reason, you have no second thoughts about any of this. More servants stand stationary, guarding the doors.

At the sight of your cart approaching, said guards hurriedly open the doors much taller than themselves, seeming frantic in the way they hurry everyone inside.

You have to strain your neck to get a good look at the scenery.

Tones of orange, red and gold shower the room, it's large enough to be mistaken for some kind of bombastic ball room- But you've done a bit of research, and you know the dinning areas are the real focus of the Gluttonous Household.

Little does it all matter. You can't bring yourself to focus on anything other than the absolutely gigantic scaled woman currently seated at a massive, tall table. Her sandy yellow scales glimmer under the jeweled chandelier's light, everything from the twin-tipped tail that lounges across the room to her drooping black robe and pupils nearly as sharp as her eyes make you want to swoon, toes curling in delight.

Queen Vorticia reaches down below, you get to watch the demoness grab a flailing, kicking man by the ankles. He's muffled just as you are, but a lot more bruised and roughed up, trying his damndest to scream past an unforgiving muffler. He knows what will happen to him the moment he's raised in the air, as do you. And there's nothing he can do but close his eyes and accept his fate when the bottomless pit that is the Queen's maw stares back.

One second of mind-numbing anticipation is all it takes, then he's gone. Dropped. Her jaw clamping the second the man was submerged. Hardly a lump forms in the column of her long throat before it's over. With neither a scream nor a whimper, his doom arrives. The Queen however, looks unsatisfied. It's almost as if she didn't even eat anything to begin with, frowning at the wall pensively.

Until the platter that man was in goes flying across the room and nearly rips a chunk out of the wall. It was so fast you barely saw the flash of gold before your human eyes.

Two of the imps escorting you scurry beneath the cart for safety.

" I trussst you've brought me ssomething worthh my time? " Her voice finally rings through.

" Y- Yes, your Majesty! " One of them is brave enough to squeak, rattling the cart and everything on it as he pulls it forward, the others sticking to the back.

You can kind of understand them. Vorticia could easily swipe a hand down and capture two or three of these imps as an appetizer.

" Then hurry! Do you wisshh me to starve here?! "

A slam of a powerful fist causes the ground to quake.

" Never, my Queen! "

In a blink, your platter not only lifted off the cart but rushed onto the table, quickly turned and pushed to be in front of the demonlord herself. You almost get dizzy from all the jostling, and as your vision settles, you see the Queen wordlessly wave before scrambling steps follow. The servants nearly trample each other to leave the room alive.

You don't even look their way.

You can only bore holes into the gorgeous woman before you.

Vorticia raises a brow ridge, humming.

When a single claw descends, you imagine she'll slice your skin, peel you like an apple or go for your innards first. Instead, she stabs a tomato next to your waist and brings it to her lips, tongue roping it inside in a blink.

You're sure she can hear your poor heart thunder in its fickle confines.

" You mussst be the human they mentioned earlier. "

You blink.

" Pretty thhhing, wantss to be my dinner... " She nearly purrs, making something stir low in your belly.

At the way you attempt to frantically nod, she actually cracks a smile, incredulous. Although the hunger you've always yearned for resides in her thin eyes, there's also a hint of genuine curiosity you wouldn't typically see in the gaze of such a predator.

" Hmph. Well I hardly buy it. "

" MmMMF! " Even if you had something eloquent to counter with, muffled grunts are all you manage.

" Don't mumble, it'sss rude. "

She begins flirting with the decorations on your platter again. Every single time, you study the movements of her calloused, scaled hands as they move, waiting for the cut that never comes, the grip that never follows, she simply steals bits and pieces of vegetables and frivolous dressing. You're almost offended for a second. But... The anticipation is actually causing some curious effects in you.

In a way, every single time her claws scheme the platter, brushing over the bare skin of your legs and tickling your sides briefly before retreating with a slice of fruit or veggie, she's playing with you. Having her fun, as both an apex predator and a teasing mistress. Fear mingles with sparks of arousal you've poorly contained thus far, creating a fire that has you sweating under her serpentine gaze.

" You're almossst too cute to eat. " She chuckles eventually. Something wooshes nearby, it takes you a moment to notice it's her large tail.

You notice, rather belatedly, that there's no one else in the room but you and Vorticia, and a suspenseful quiet has fallen between you. You could not have asked for a better environment. It feels as if you're both sharing a very intimate, sacred moment.

The next time her hand dips, instead of skirting around the main course, she tip taps her way up your trembling figure and circles a long claw under the swell of your breast, watching you shiver attentively before edging the decorative leaf covering it. A more than pert nipple catches on her sharp extremity, and she uses a thumb to flick it idly, casually, head tilting at the way you squirm and exhale through your nostrils.

Your other breast is easily uncovered as well. The Queen betrays nothing in her expression when she grabs a piece of bread and soaks it in the condiment that coats your skin, dragging it upwards, swirling it around one of your tits before eagerly devouring it.

This is repeated enough times to drive you a little stupid with want, groaning miserably when she merely teases your tits and continues to torture you with featherlite caresses.

The sweet torture continues when she takes care of the rolls covering your spread legs, watching the shameful state you're in become more and more noticeable. Your cunt flutters beneath her mere stare.

" Ssstrange, I've yet to cut you, and you're already dripping. "

You'd shake your head in denial if you weren't able to feel your own soaked folds right now.

She has the mind-numbingly erotic audacity to grab another useless vegetable decoration and generously coat it in your wetness. The rounded tip of whatever she's pressing against your womanhood bumps your clit. She swirls it intentionally, tapping it down and circling the nub with enough pressure that you strain against your binds and whine behind the gag, wanting to beg her for more yet only drooling pointlessly.

She makes a noise like an amused snort, and when you toss your head back, you can hear her practically slurp the thing for all the flavor it has, her thumb replacing the vegetable and leisurely keeping you stimulated.

When you're able to look back, her pupils have blown wide, the black nearly drowning her acidic sclera.

" To thhhink that, ssomehow, suchh a preciouss gift would fall upon my table... Withhout notice... "

Even if you're loving the attention, heating up like a small fire -Probably enough to cook the ingredients around you- You could never have guessed the Queen would take such an intense liking to you. It feels like a dream.

" Do you wisssh to be eaten, my sssweet morssel? " She curves, shadowing you, strings of drool falling onto your neck and chest.

Her hues acquire a nearly hypnotizing quality, prohibiting you from glancing away while she toys with you. All you can respond with is frantic, vapid nodding while you grind yourself down on her finger like a mutt.

" Truly? "

" MMMhmnn!! "

Not even the gag could have curbed that whorish bleating.

" Then I will. " Vorticia grins wide enough to crinkle the edges of her eyes. " Tonight. In my chambersss. Your wissh comess true, in a way. "

You're not given enough time to rationalize anything before her touch vanishes, leaving you cold and miserable. The snaps of the Queen's fingers attract the same imp you met when this all began.

They look at you with a mixture of confusion and mild caution. " You called, Highness? "

" Yess. Run a bathh for me and my Queen to be. "

He coughs and chokes.

When your head snaps to Queen Vorticia, you find no hint of mockery on her face.

You're fairly certain one of the sauces you were doused in must be causing you to hallucinate...

[sirthisisa-wendys]

I feel like Ran’s wife acting like that is because she thinks she no longer deserve him, she feels crushed and not worthy for his husband bec kf what Mikey did to her but she cant say it because of the fear it may be true. But of couse, ITS NOT TRUE. Ran only ever want her to be okay.

How you gon' see the plot before the plot is even plotted?

I DID WHAT YOU ALL ASKED OF ME.

Hand Her Over (Part 5): Ran Haitani/Rindou Haitani/Sanzu Haruchiyo x Fem!Reader

wc: 2.4k

tw: NSFW baybeeeee (and angst)

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

Sanzu Haruchiyo

Sanzu holds his phone in his hands, scrolling through pictures of you before... before Mikey.

Why can't he remember the way things used to be?

Why does he need a photo to jog his memory?

Why does he allow you to walk out of his home with that rancid perfume on your skin and that sway in your hips as you go to visit Mikey?

Sanzu stands, trying not to "wait up" like you told him not to.

"Don't wait up for me."

Sanzu tosses his phone onto the table and leans back, groaning in anguish. "Don't wait up for me." He mimics your voice poorly, trying to cast a negative light on your actions and gather the feelings of hatred in his shriveled, Grinch-like heart. But he can't. Not when he knows you'll be back home soon and need tender care, like a bath or someone to listen to you about your ailments.

"What am I doing?" he wonders out loud, running his hands through his pink hair.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," a voice asks behind him. Sanzu turns around and looks right into his own eyes. Except he's blonde, has longer hair, and is somewhat less... open. He can tell by the way he slouches against the sofa back.

"You--"

"We," the apparition replies, raising his brows.

"I--"

"We." Sanzu rubs his eyes, but the vision won't go away.

"We're going crazy," Now-Sanzu whispers to Past-Sanzu. The vision doesn't reply, though. He just places his hands in his pockets. "What should I... we... do?"

"What do we want to do?" Sanzu blinks rapidly, trying to think of something. Anything.

"We do what we've always done."

"And be who we've always been?" The question falls flat, and Sanzu shakes his head. Be a cuck? No. That wasn't in the plan. "Mikey's taken everything from us."

"No," Now-Sanzu retorts, standing. "Mikey gave us a lot to live for."

"An empty house?" Past-Sanzu wonders, taking his face mask off. "These fucking scars?" Now-Sanzu flinches. "And our wife is his wife now."

"That's not true--"

"And you let it happen." The sneer on Past-Sanzu's face makes Now-Sanzu flinch. "You're a coward."

"Then we're both cowards." Now-Sanzu points a finger into Past-Sanzu's chest, and for a second, Sanzu dares himself to flick his own hand away.

But then he hears a car pulling up in the driveway.

"Here she comes," Past-Sanzu whispers, then glares at himself with contempt. "You're up."

Sanzu walks away from himself to get the door, turns around, sees his past self is now gone, and then turns back around to make sure the door is opened before you walk through.

"How was the evening?" he asks you, and you hold out a gloved hand carefully.

"Another evening spent with Manjiro," you mutter, sighing. "I need a warm bath."

"Of course," Sanzu replies, watching you disappear into the kitchen. Past-Sanzu reappears, squints, and shakes his head before mouthing:

"Coward."

Ran Haitani

Ran is gentle with you.

"I love you," he whispers tenderly, holding you against him as the candles flicker in the bedroom. It's sensual, it's what he needs, it's... quiet. Ran kisses down your bare shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin with pleasure.

"I need you." His hands cup your soft flesh, touching everywhere with quick, feather-light brushes of skin. The teal silk slip you're wearing makes Ran melt, and he can't help but run his lips over your fingertips, your hand, your forearms.

Who is he without you?

"Can I make love to you?" he asks simply, brushing your hair away from your face. You nod slowly, taking your time to lift up the edge of your slip. You didn't have to - Ran could have easily lifted it and taken you right then and there - but letting you take control is more important to him right now.

Ran waits until you're ready to push down the waistband of his sleep pants and fish out his waiting cock with gentle fingers. Any harder, and he might burst after four months of waiting.

Ran slips a finger into your cunt and finds it's not as wet as he wishes it were. No matter. He'd help you as much as he could.

"Hey, baby," Ran whispers against your ear. "Lie back on the bed for me." You obey silently, shifting your hips to the edge of the bed and allowing Ran to adjust your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Ran urges you, placing one of your hands on his head. "Just yank my hair." Please don't yank my hair.

You nod again, and he lowers his mouth onto your core. "Mmmmm..." The throaty groan Ran emits rumbles through his chest as his mouth fills with the taste of your warm pussy. He tongues your slit carefully, trying to pay attention to your hand on his head and his task at the same time. He alternates between licking your cunt and tonguing your clit, trying his best to be as gentle as possible.

Easy, easy... When you don't emit a single sound, Ran stops and looks up at you, but your hand pushes him back down. Still good. The music in the air fades into the back of his mind as Ran continues his tender exploration. It's not too much, and it's not too little. Everything's just right. You taste like heaven, and Ran can feel you getting wetter by the minute. It's only a matter of time...

You don't warn him or give any indication you're about to cum, but Ran doesn't mind. When you're wet enough for him, he stands, moving your legs around his hips.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" Your nod is the only thing that makes him inch closer and press his cockhead against your slit. When he presses in, you huff a little bit, placing your hands on his chest. "Sorry," Ran breathes, anchoring his feet into the carpet. "Sorry."

Your hands slip lower after a while, and Ran presses into you a little more, easing his cockhead into you fully. You don't protest, and so Ran leans over your body, cradling your head in his hands. He takes each motion carefully, slowly, until he's gotten close to being fully inside of you.

"That's it," he whispers into your ear hotly. "Just like that." Ran's hips move back and forth, rocking only a little bit. And once your legs spread open, welcoming his full length into you without resistance, Ran heaves a long sigh. "Shit," he murmurs, trying not to cum. He squeezes his eyes shut and picks up his speed a fraction, pumping in and out of you easily.

"You're so wet..." The phrase has been uttered hundreds of times before, but right now, it feels like the first time. "Baby, you feel so good."

It's been so long since he's been inside of you, and Ran feels like he's about to unravel like a loose ball of yarn. But he keeps himself together, running his hands over your flesh and back up to your wrists. Without thinking, he places them above your head and continues to work himself in and out of you, rolling his hips back and forth without ceasing.

When he finally looks down at you, past his lidded gaze, he sees you staring back up at him, transfixed. "Oh, baby," he purrs, running his free hand between the valley of your breasts and down to your stomach. "You take my breath away."

You pull him closer with your legs, and Ran is fully inside of you, held there by your strength. He leans over and kisses your full lips, taking a second to nip the bottom lip before kissing down your neck on both sides.

"Want to flip over?" Ran wonders, but you shake your head. He keeps pumping instead, barely leaving your pussy for a fraction of a second before sinking back into you. Your eyes lid even more, and Ran feels the familiar tug of an orgasm pull at his balls.

"You're gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that," he warns and pulls out of you, his cock bobbing angrily in protest. "Flip onto your stomach." You obey his request, and Ran slips back into you, making you cry out and arch your back deep and low for him. Ran places a single hand on your back, and the other finds its way onto the sheets beside your head.

The lewd smacks of flesh drive Ran wild, and his body responds by making him go deaf to anything other than the sounds of your lovemaking. "Y/n, I love you so much; I can't stand it--"

Ran loses himself, driving any rational thought or concern deep into the cavern of his mind. He can't focus, not right now. Not when--

Your hand, thin and shaking, grabs onto the hand that's beside your head. Your fingernails dig into his skin, and Ran snaps back into his body. He very nearly orgasms despite this, but one thing stops the entire show.

You're crying.

Ran pulls out of you, his dick impossibly soft, and he flips you over to see your tear-streaked face. "I'm sorry," he blurts, hurrying to grab your pillow and a blanket to cover you with. "Oh, god, I'm sorry." He swaddles you in cloth and pulls you close, rocking you back and forth. "I went too hard, I--" Ran chokes. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

"No," you hiccup, pressing your hands against your face. "No." Ran's stunned.

"No?"

"Why--" You manage one word at a time, each one finding a place in your mouth. "Why... do... you... love me... still?"

Ran feels the blood rush from his face. He can't figure out what to say, so he just holds you until it comes to him.

"I've always loved you," he murmurs. "I didn't know I'd ever stop loving you."

"But... Mikey..."

"I handled that," Ran replies, his tone firm. "He's not going to hurt you ever again."

"He said--"

"Whatever he told you was a lie." Ran cradles your cheek in one hand. "It was a lie. I'm not going anywhere. I'm never going anywhere." You nod slowly, resting your face on his chest.

"They'll have to drag me out of here by my hair before I leave you."

Rindou Haitani

The couch is uncomfortable. Rindou shifts on the piece of furniture and places his hands in his lap, but that doesn't alleviate the absolute misery his backside is enduring.

"Mr. Haitani," the therapist begins, her pen coming to a standstill on the notepad. "I know you have some things you want to say. Would you like to share them?"

Rindou opens his mouth, inhaling a bit to speak the words he'd been rehearsing all morning. But should he say the? would they be the right things to say? He closes his mouth, trying not to look at you in a show of helplessness.

But he's helpless.

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "I wasn't there for you when you needed me. And my not being there caused you so much pain. I--" Rindou chokes on his words, trying to get them out without shedding a single tear. "You were so scared, and I failed to protect you. I understand if you want a divorce."

Rindou doesn't expect to hear a soft hitch of air, but for some reason, even as he's focused on his fingers, it gives him some hope that you've heard him.

"It's hard," the therapist begins. "To heal after a betrayal. I've seen many clients who have tried to heal their marriages after infidelity or abuse. And not many of them survive." Rindou glances up at the woman, and she looks right back at him with unwavering brown orbs. "But you two have something the others don't have."

For a moment, Rindou thinks she's going to launch into a fantasy-driven drivel about the power of love, but when the woman speaks again, Rindou's thoughts cease.

"You two are victims. And not of each other." She holds up a finger. "There's one person who is to blame for this."

Me, Rindou thinks, hanging his head again.

"And yet, that person is not even in this room." Rindou's heart stops. "Talk to me about him, Mr. Haitani. Tell me what Manjiro is like."

"He's an evil bastard," Rindou spews, and the taste of bile rises in his throat. "I'd kill him if I could."

"That's fair," the therapist whispers. "What about Manjiro makes him an evil bastard, as you say?"

"Where do I begin?" Rindou wonders, raising his head to look at the woman.

The car ride back to the house is deathly quiet. When you speak, Rindou jumps a little, but your voice is eerily soft.

"I didn't know he treated you like that." The steering wheel has had enough abuse, Rindou muses and relaxes his grip. "He abused you."

"All of us," Rindou replies as calmly as he can. "He abuses all of us for the pure enjoyment of it."

"What will you do?" The question isn't new to Rindou, nor does it strike him with some grand revelation. It just makes him sad.

"I don't know," he admits, defeated. "I've thought about everything. Running, fighting, staying in his good graces to protect you. I... I don't know what to do. He takes whatever he wants, y/n, and I can't stop him."

Your hand reaches out to touch his arm, which sends shivers down Rindou's spine.

"You'll know what to do when the time is right," you breathe. Rindou nods, focusing on traffic as hard as he can. The other part of him wants to crush you against his chest and hold you until his arms fall off. But he settles for the feeling of your fingers resting against his arm.

"I don't hate you," you admitted in the therapy session. "I just hate what he's made you into."

"And is that the real him?" the therapist wonders, her eyes cutting between the two of you.

"No. The Rindou I married is soft, sweet, and gentle. Not this emotionless shell of a human."

"I'm not emotionless," Rindou retorts, but his tone is flat, like a lifeless robot.

"When you're around the others, you are."

Rindou considers that you might be right as he tucks you into bed. He's been like a protector for the past month: kissing your cheeks before bed, tucking you into bed with gentle fingers, turning out the light for you - or keeping it on when you wake up from a nightmare. He doesn't sleep in the bed anymore but has a pallet right outside of the bedroom door with his gun tucked neatly under it.

They would have to kill him to get to you now.

[shadowqueenjude]

I wrote a little Rhysta.

@ennawrite @kateprincessofbluewhales

Rhysand woke up with a stinging pain around his neck. He lifted his hand towards the source of the pain, then found something that felt distinctly like a knife digging deeper.

His eyes flew open, and for a wild moment, he thought it was Feyre standing before him. But no. The face that surveyed him had stronger features. Eyes just a little more grey, lips a little more full, brows quite a bit more angular, her gold hair a tumble of waves down either shoulder. A cunning face-calculating. And one that held a knife to his throat.

“Wake up,” she hissed. Rhysand blinked blearily, trying to focus on her. Despite being human, he found her to be prettier than the cursebreaker. He could only imagine how devastating she would be as a faerie.

“What?” Rhysand croaked, not daring to speak too loud else that dagger pierce his skin. How in Prythian had this human girl got a hold of an ash knife? What was with this family?

“I want to know what exactly you’re playing at,” Nesta answered, her simmering glare branding him even in the dark. Rhysand’s heart rate kicked up; was it more or less embarrassing that it wasn’t from fear?

“Nothing. I’m just here to protect Prythian and the human lands from Hybern’s corruption,” Rhysand said mechanically.

Nesta snorted delicately. “Spare me the bullshit. Even if Feyre bought into that molded loaf of bread, I am not so gullible.” She bent closer to him, her tantalizingly soft hair brushing against his cheek. “Or did you use your faerie magic to hoodwink her? For the Feyre I know would not change her loyalties so fast, and last I knew, she was in love with Tamlin.”

Rhysand tried to swallow a couple of times before she gave up. “Tamlin treated her poorly. So she left.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I was mean to her for years and she never wavered in her loyalties. So tell me what you’ve done to her, High Lord.”

Rhysand stared into her silver eyes, the loathing palpable in them at the nearer distance. How should he answer this? The truth? He imagined that wouldn’t go down very well with her. With lies? She didn’t seem the least bit fooled by them.

“Nothing. It was Tamlin who changed her.”

Rhysand didn’t have time to react before Nesta drove the knife into his shoulder. Too much in pain to even scream, all he could manage was a pitiful whimper. God, he had forgotten how much ash stings. He hadn’t encountered such weapons since the war centuries ago.

“You really think you can fool me, Amarantha’s whore?” Nesta demanded.

Rhysand stilled at the nickname. “How did you-?”

“Feyre told me everything that transpired between her arriving in Prythian and when she came back. You were what prompted Tamlin to send her away. A loyal servant of that bitch who tormented Prythian for decades.”

“You don’t understand. It was all an act-“

Nesta twisted the knife in his shoulder, and Rhysand let out another pained moan. Blood was all over his shirt, his skin sticky. “Killing twelve kids isn’t an act, you coward. I already told you I won’t be easily fooled.” Nesta bared her teeth, looking every inch the faerie Feyre could never be despite her super strength and pointed ears. In spite of the blinding pain, Rhysand breathed out a laugh. “Oh, pity you aren’t the Cursebreaker. You’re a lot more fun than the huntress.”

Nesta wrenched the knife out of his shoulder, causing even more pain as she returned the knife to his throat. “And I’m about to be a lot more fun if you don’t tell me what you did to Feyre in the next thirty seconds.”

Gods, she was magnificent. Well, Rhysand could offer a partial truth that would hopefully appease this powerful woman.

“I forced Feyre into a bargain in exchange for healing her under the mountain.”

Oh, the scent of Nesta’s fury was delicious. Rhysand gloried in the smell as he sensed Nesta trembling with rage. “I fucking knew it. You faeries and your bargains. I’m assuming it’s this mark right here?” She dug a sharp nail into his arm, and Rhysand yelped, jerking away, which only caused more blood to ooze from his shoulder wound. “How did you know?”

Nesta shrugged. “I guessed, since Feyre has an identical one on her own arm.”

Cunning, furious, and observant. A crying shame this queen would only live a mortal life. “Get her out of the bargain,” Nesta whispered.

Rhysand chuckled. “Or I could just break into your mind and be done with it.”

“You can try,” Nesta seethed. “But not even a High Lord’s glamour can work on me. Tamlin tried and failed already.”

Rhysand blinked. Nesta…possessed the true Sight? Some mortals were gifted with the ability to resist nearly all kinds of Faerie magic in a way that even most powerful fae have difficulty with. Jurian, of course, was one of them, which was how he’d led the humans to victory all those years ago. Immune to daemati and glamours, this woman could be exceptionally useful.

Rhysand reached for her mind anyway, finding that she was just as immune as she had claimed. The eldest Archeron didn’t mess around, clearly. She possessed walls more fortified than the Cauldron itself. Mother above.

“I warned you,” Nesta snapped. “Break the bargain.”

“And what will I get in exchange?” Rhysand crooned. “Surely you understand I cannot release her without getting something in return.”

“I could just kill you and be done with it,” Nesta mused. Rhysand smirked at her. “True, but think: I am a High Lord, and a major asset in the war against Hybern. Without me, your odds lower significantly.”

“You can be replaced,” Nesta drawled dismissively. “Not me.” Nesta spat on his face. “You faeries are even more arrogant than we were taught to believe.” She smoothed down her nightgown with her free hand. “Take me instead.”

Rhysand blinked. “Really?” That was exactly what he had been hoping for. Nesta would prove to be far more useful than the illiterate one. “On the condition that you will never physically or sexually harm me, nor will you use your magic against me in any way, nor will you allow any of your cronies to do it in your stead.”

Rhysand could not say yes fast enough. “Yes, I promise. It’s a deal.”

Nesta and Rhysand stared at his arm, watching as the tattoo disappeared. They both waited for a new one to appear, and when it didn’t, Nesta began her venom again. “You fucking liar, I will slit your thro-“

She stopped, and Rhysand knew why. He watched as whorls of paint wrapped around Nesta’s forehead like a crown. An identical one must be present on his own.

They surveyed each other for a moment, this new bond that had just formed between them tugging them closer together. At last, Nesta let the knife drop.

“Welcome,” Rhysand murmured, “to the Night Court, Nesta Archeron.”