#rim light fixes everything

[koitosoup]

smooch

[coryosbaby]

—“ʙᴀʙʏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴜɴɴʏ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀʙʏ, ʜᴏɴᴇʏ !”

♡ content warning . cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, squirting, servant! reader, dom munch Coryo my beloved <3

Your life begins to escalate one day when you come into Coriolanus Snow’s office.

You aren’t new to the capital, most definitely not, but you’re new to him. He’s just as handsome as all your coworkers had talked about— and just as strict. The moment you walk through the doors and introduce yourself as his new maid, he’s already barking orders and giving you a list of things to do. Not before his eyes wonder over your thighs, tits, mouth— but you don’t notice that. No, of course you don’t. You’re a shy, timid little thing….almost like a bunny.

Maybe that’s why Coriolanus names you that.

Members of the capital, no matter how much privilege, can’t exactly rename their workers. But it seems that Coriolanus has. Because no matter what, that’s what your name seems to be from now on— Bunny. When you need to fix him his meals, when you clean up the clothes littering his room or the empty wine bottles on his table, there he is.

“Good job, bunny.”

“Such a good girl, bunny.”

“Thank you, bunny. C’mere, why don’t you have some wine with me?”

And that statement itself is what leads to this particular night: you’re sitting across from Coriolanus, your feet nervously tapping against the wooden floor, taking small, small sips out of the expensive wine glass he had passed to you. You don’t quite understand why he is offering this, but what you don’t know is that you’ve enamored him. Your hard work, your perfect resilience at following his orders. You are everything Lucy Gray never was: compliant. But Coriolanus never felt this strongly about Lucy. No, not really. She was a pawn, a way to work his way up to the top. But you caught him by surprise.

His blonde curls are golden in the lamp light, and he’s undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. You try not to drool at the sight of his tanned chest peeking out of the fabric or the way his thick, muscle-ey thighs spread simultaneously as he speaks to you.

“—but as I was saying. He’s quite ridiculous. He’s completely unintelligent, weak minded, and—“

He stalls, watching your small, shy smile. He knows you have no idea who he’s talking about, even though he’s been going on this rant about another business partner for the past twenty minutes. He clears his throat.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about these things with… a maid.”

He doesn’t say it in the sense that he’s disgusted. He merely seems to be choosing his words carefully. You shrug meekly, trying not to upset him.

“I don’t mind, sir,” you say, twiddling your fingers. “In fact.. I think I enjoy it. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

How sweet.

Coriolanus’ eyes thread through with a rather playful look, and he takes another sip of his wine as he takes sight of your almost see through tights.

“I told you, Y/N. Don’t call me sir.”

Your eyes widen a bit, in fear of displeasing him. You set your glass down shakily.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“

“I’m kidding. Lighten up, Bunny, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You let out a small, awkward chuckle along with him as he utters the words, anxiety coursing through you. You watch as his finger traces the rim of his wine glass. He looks up at you with those familiar icy blue eyes, his smile suddenly fading, and something dark flashes over him as he locks you in with his gaze.

“Unless you want me to.”

Your pouty lips part, a shiver running down your spine. He’s looking at you with something you can’t quite place— is it anger? Intrigue?

Or maybe, perhaps, possession?

You let out a small huff of laughter, setting your glass down and getting up from the table.

“It’s been amazing talking with you, sir—“

“Coriolanus.”

“C-Coriolanus. Yes. But it is quite late. I think I should be getting back to my quarters…”

You attempt to brush past him, but his fingers grab your wrist and he pulls you in front of him.

“You don’t really want to stay there, do you?” He says, his lips turning into a thin line. “I know how uncomfortable your bed must be.”

“It’s fine, really! I’m thankful enough to be staying in the capital..” your face floods with heat. “And… also thankful to be working for someone as incredible as you.”

Coriolanus doesn’t say anything. He just gives you this look, his expression amused but also intrigued. His thumb still strokes your wrist in gentle circles.

“Why don’t you stay here in my room tonight, then?” He suggests softly. “I can give you some clothes. I don’t mind sharing.”

If you’re being honest, the thought of going back to your quarters and surrounding yourself with all the other servant girls makes you want to throw up. And besides, Coriolanus is a superior. It’s not like you can say no to him.

“Thank you so much,” you sigh out. “I’ll stay out of your way for the rest of the night, I promise.”

You don’t even realize how tall the man really is until he lifts himself up from his seat. He lets go of your wrist, and you put both hands behind your back as he towers over you.

“No need to thank me,” He says, his fingers brushing up against your cheek and pushing a stray strand of hair out of the way. “You’re an amazing worker.”

His thumb brushes against your chin, then up to your bottom lip. He pulls the plump skin down and watches it snap back against your teeth.

“So obedient..” he whispers, and you can feel something begin to tingle on your lower half.

He breathes heavy now, and you can see him leaning in. You know what kissing is, but he can’t possibly be trying to kiss you right now.

…right?

Wrong. He grabs your face with both hands and presses his mouth to yours. It’s rough, but it’s slow and it’s passionate. He kisses you like you’re made of sunlight. He kisses you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

Or at least, that’s how you perceive it.

Gentleness gives way to hunger, something you’ve grown used to but not when it’s as strong as this. You can’t help but wrap your arms around Coriolanus’ neck as his tongue probes at your mouth. You let him in, timid but desperate to feel any part of him inside of you. His big hands move to your waist, gripping the skin harshly as he turns your back away from the table and towards his bed. Fastened in red silk and fine embroidery, it’s soft when he pushes your body down onto it. He pulls away as he looks down at you. He makes sure to keep his eyes on yours as his fingers slide underneath the hem of your skirt. You’re almost frozen, awkward and, although you want this, scared. Coriolanus moves moves his fingers over your underwear, brushing against your clit.

“You’ve never done this before,” he mutters against your ear. “Have you, little bunny?”

You whine, bucking your hips up into his touch.

“Coryo.”

Coryo. Coriolanus’ cock kicks, harder than it was before if possible.

“Answer me.” He demands, pausing his movements on your cunt.

“No,” you cry. “No sir, I haven’t.”

He groans, patience wavering as he finally slips his fingers underneath the crotch of your underwear and brushes against your bare pussy. He presses down onto your clit with the soft pads of his fingers and rubs tight little circles onto the bundle of nerves. You gasp, your nails digging into the sheets below you. Your legs spread on their own accord and your thighs lift up, giving Coriolanus more access. He smiles at your neediness, watching as you begin to fall apart already.

“So pretty,” Coriolanus coos. With his non stopping stimulation to your clit you can already feel yourself getting close. “After you cum from this I think I’ll taste this pretty cunt. How about that, angel?”

“Wan’ it so bad,” you whimper. Your legs attempt to squeeze coriolanus’ hand but he pulls them back apart harshly. “Oh, please sir! I wanna cum…”

“And you will. Just keep whining like that baby, keep making those little noises for me.”

And when you cum the first time it’s like seeing stars, Coriolanus’ palm grinding right up against your achy clit, your legs shaking. It’s perfect. But nothing can compare to this next moment: Coriolanus’ cock hanging thick and heavy between his legs, his clothes and yours now discarded, as he prods at your soaked entrance with his tongue. He swirls the wet muscle around your hole, quick to slip the tip just barely inside. You shake, your hand gripping his golden curls, and you wonder how you have such a privilege to have the upcoming president of panem nestled between your thighs.

He licks up your slick, pulling back with a groan.

“You taste so good, baby.��

His tongue pushes back in, ravaging your cunt with his mouth and grinding his cock against the surface of the bedsheets. You mewl, your eyes rolling back. Coriolanus’ tongue moves up to your swollen clit for a moment, and he pulls away again— you’re now realizing that it’s purposeful. He’s doing it to tease you.

He takes in sight of your pussy, plump and swollen, the curly hair at the top of your mound absolutely adorable to him. He uses his thumbs to spread apart your lips, your hole stretching out and exposing your insides to him. He watches as it clenches desperately, all small and tight, and he can’t wait to stick his cock in there. With a deep shaky breath he breathes in your cunt and dives back into you. Your legs try to close around his head, but his big hands grip your thighs and pull them back apart. When you manage to keep them open he grabs your flailing hands and holds them, an oddly sweet gesture that he himself didn’t even expect to do. He presses the small things against your belly, his jaw working harder than the people of the districts to get you to cum.

“Coryo,” you whimper, when his lips wrap around your clit again. “Im gonna cum on your mouth, ‘m gonna cum all over it—“

And hearing these words makes Coriolanus hums, his finger moving up to your hole and slipping inside. He wastes no time, fingering your hole intensely as you get closer and closer to your high. And with one last flick to your clit, you reach it.

Your body freezes, ecstasy flooding through you, your vision giving out. Your first orgasm was good, but it could never compare to this. No, this was something different. Your pussy begins to squirt slick all over Coriolanus’ mouth, his chin, the sheets. Coryo lets out a desperately loud moan, his tongue lapping up all over your release vigorously, his eyes rolling back when he himself cums against the sheets.

What a brilliant capital citizen, cumming so quick like that at the taste of a servant’s cunt. But he can’t find time to think about the humiliation— he’s too busy devouring you, and when he does pull away your fucked out face distracts him. He moves up your body, his cum dragging a sticky line against your leg, thighs, tummy. He kisses you, chin dripping in slick and his cock kicking against him once again. His hands take hold of your legs, a fucked out haze taking over your brain as you become limp in his grasp.

“Turn over,” he demands, desperate. “Turn over now, bunny.”

And with enough energy to spare, you turn onto your stomach and present your ass to him like a bitch in heat. His cock, now limp but so help him if he isn’t going to get it up and fuck you, rubs up against your small entrance. And when he pushes in, giving you all you’ve wanted for months and more, you let him take your innocence like the obedient girl you are.

[milla-frenchy]

3k2 | Steve Murphy x fem reader x Javier Peña Summary: two DEA agents come to your apartment to extract information from you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dark. Noncon/dubcon Degradation, dacryphilia, threesome, oral (f/m), whiskey bottle, choking, spitting, slapping, pussy slapping, spanking, unprotected piv, light rimming, creampies. No age specified a/n: @toxicanonymity this is for you 🖤 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for everything 💕🫶 The title is from some lyrics of Tear you apart by She wants revenge

ao3 | masterlist

You were used to being afraid during your work. Sometimes, you were afraid in the streets of Bogota, on your way home. But you had never been afraid at home. It was your sanctuary, a safe place, where what you had to do with your clients didn’t interfere.

When you opened your door and removed the key from the lock, you were just thinking about the evening you were going to spend, in peace, even though it was already late at night. Until you saw a silhouette of a man, sitting at your dining room table. In fear, you screamed and turned towards the door, thinking of escaping. But the door closed before you reached it, and a second figure, previously hidden behind the open door, appeared. You stopped in your tracks, transfixed, wondering what was happening.

The second man turned on the light. He was blond, with a mustache. A leather jacket and jeans. His gun was sticking out of the front of his pants, and you recognized him. A DEA agent, who sometimes hung out near the brothel where you worked. You've heard his name before, Murphy. Steve, as far as you remembered. And now you had little doubt about the identity of the other man, as they were always together when you saw them. Javier Peña. You turned towards him anyway, and his piercing black gaze was fixed on you. You saw his tongue press against his upper lip as he looked you over from head to toe. They had fucked some of the girls at the brothel before, but never you.

Your mind was racing. Two DEA agents who broke into your apartment. You didn't use, you didn't have anything at home that could get you in trouble with the DEA. So whatever they were looking for, it was in vain.

“What are you doing at my place?” you dared to ask, putting on a confident voice.

Steve tilted his head to the side and smiled, before coming to sit across from his coworker, and putting his feet on the table.

“Uh, excuse me? What the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“We want information, cariño. You give it to us, and we leave. Simple as that,” Peña said. 

“I don’t do drugs. I don’t know who gave you my name, but your source is crap.”

Peña turned to Murphy and they smiled at each other. 

“She’s cute”, Steve said.

“Get the fuck out of here now,” you barked, before walking towards the door. You didn't have time to realize what was happening before one of them stood up, grabbed one of your arms with one hand, and your throat with the other. He pushed you against the wall and whispered in your ear “you ain’t going anywhere, baby.”

Eyes wide, you said “what the fuck?”, and looked up at Steve’s face, inches from yours. What scared you the most wasn't his hands on you. It was his eyes. They were icy and unempathetic, and you felt your hairs stand up.

“Come on, Steve. Be nice. Don’t scare her,” Javi sneered.

Steve smiled, in a too carnal way to reassure you, and released you before going to lean against the table. You rubbed your wrist and your mind was racing at 100 miles per hour trying to understand what they were doing there, what they wanted from you.

Javi got up and approached you, and even though you wanted to step back towards the wall, you didn't want to feed them with your fear. So you didn’t move.

“So, cariño. Like I said, we need information. About your side activities with Escobar guys.”

Fuck, how do they know? you thought.

“I don’t know-”

You didn't have time to finish your sentence, when Javi slapped you. You put your hand to your cheek, and this time you no longer held back the fear that twisted your stomach.

“Don’t offend me, cariño. You’re starting to piss me off.”

You lowered your head, heart racing.

“If I tell you about it, I’m dead”, you murmured.

“Well… if you don’t tell us, you’re dead too,” Steve replied with a smirk.

“Yeah? Well you can shoot me then, let’s get it over with.” A surge of courage, or stupidity, pushed you to answer them before you had time to think about it.

Javi slapped you again, with the back of his hand, and your head spun. You heard Steve say “wooooooo”, giggling, as if Javi's attitude announced the start of a good time.

“Stop it, please,” you begged. You looked at them, your eyes now full of tears, and Javi told you, “oh baby… if I were you, I’d dry those tears. It turns Steve on.”

“W…what?”

“Well… I have no doubt you’ll tell us what we wanna know. But I have doubts about the state of you, when we leave.”

You heard Steve laugh again. Javi moved closer to you, his face inches from yours. He smelled of cigarettes and cologne. You had the feeling that you could never forget this scent.

“Tell us about Blackie.”

You shook your head. 

"No?" Javi said. “Mmmm ok. El León? La Quica?”

You lowered your head even more.

"No? Tell us about Gacha, then.” 

You took a step back, and Steve said, “Well, well. Seems like someone knows that asshole”.

“Please”, you begged. “He’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, well… That’s the problem with dealing with bad guys. Lucky for you, we’re good guys.” 

“What do you wanna know”, you murmured.

“How does this bastard fuck? I’m curious,” Steve asked, and Javi chuckled before stepping aside to let Steve approach.

“You know what, baby? I think we should compare. We should fuck you too, and you’ll tell us who’s doing it better, between him and us.”

Tears came to your eyes again, and Steve added, “Oh, baby. You should have listened to my partner. Tears turn me on.”

He pressed himself against you, his bulge against your pussy, covered only by your panties and a short dress. And damn, he was hard.

“Ok baby, I’ll tell you what. We’re gonna fuck you, and you’ll tell us what we wanna know. If you’re a good girl, we will try not to damage you too much. What do you think about that?"

Without waiting for your answer, he turned to Javi, and said, “That seems like a reasonable offer, right?”

“Shit, yeah. Couldn’t be nicer.” He took off his leather jacket and placed it on the back of the chair, as if what was happening right now was the most natural thing in the world.

Steve turned to you again and saw your eyes lost in the void. A tear running down your cheek. Taking your chin in his hand, he turned your face to the side, before licking away your tear.

“Delicious”, he smirked. “I wonder if your pussy tastes as good.”

He readjusted the bulge in his jeans.

“Ok baby, all this seduction was nice, but we gotta get our dicks wet. How do you wanna fuck this one, Javi?”

“Wanna bang her a little on the table. Wanna see if her pussy’s worth it. Tight enough to feel something when I fuck it, with all the cocks she took, you know?” 

“Ok baby, you heard the agent? Go bend over, and spread those legs.”

You tried to get out of his grip, but of course he was too strong for you. He grabbed your forearms and pulled you towards the table, before pushing you forward against it. Javi positioned himself behind you and kicked one of your legs apart before pulling your dress up to your waist. He held your chest pressed against the table with one hand, while with the other he unzipped his jeans and took out his cock. He brushed it against your folds after tearing your panties.

“She wet?”, Steve asked.

“Not yet. She will be. Come on cariño, imagine I’m one of your clients. But instead of getting paid, you stay alive. And you get a good fuck by two fat cocks.”

He rubbed the head of his cock along your folds, and you could feel it was long and thick.

“Come on cariño, don’t wanna tear you apart.” He leaned into you, his torso pressed against your back, and grabbed your hair in his fist. “Don’t play shy, tonight you’ll gladly bounce on our cocks, I promise.” He was still sliding his cock against you, gently, and you felt your body react. And somehow, you were grateful for it.

“That’s it, soak me. This pussy wanna get fucked. And you know it”, he said in your ear, as he now pressed his cock at your entrance, pushing it in slightly. Steve walked over to the table and looked at you, your cheek pressed against the wood.

“That’s it, baby, be a good girl”, he said.

Javi thrusted in slowly, spreading your walls.

“Oh fuck, she’s tight”, he growled.

Steve caressed your cheek, and mocked “oh baby… No more tears for me? The slut’s starting to enjoy this, Javi.” He readjusted himself again.

“Of course she does. What’s better than a big cock in a tight pussy?”

He was fucking you slowly, giving your pussy time to get used to his size, his fist still clenching your hair. You heard him breathing loudly against your ear and you couldn’t help but get turned on by the way he was fucking you. He was good at it. Much better than most of your clients. And for the moment, you didn't even think about Gacha anymore, and what they expected from you.

He pulled out of you slowly, and said “ok, your turn Steve. Taste that cunt, man.”

Steve grabbed your arm and turned you around, your ass on the edge of the table.

“Lie still, baby.”

He spread your legs and told Javi “fuck, look at that. The whore’s drippin’.”

He knelt down and dove between your thighs, spreading your folds with his hands, his tongue lapping from your hole to your clit.

“Spread them more for me, baby. Put your feet on the table.”

You were turned on, and you did as he said, not even trying to fight anymore. His tongue now buried in your pussy, you heard him moan and you guessed from the friction of his shoulder against you that he was jerking off. You tried to stop yourself from grabbing his head in your hands to press him against you, not realizing that you were undulating your hips to the rhythm of his tongue.

“She’s fucking moaning... Come on cariño, moan on my cock now”, Javi urged you, pressing his cock against your lips. You opened them without thinking, letting him sink into your mouth. You felt your taste on him, mixed with his precum, and fuck, that was good.

Steve's tongue left your hole and moved up to your clit, placing his lips around it and circling around with the tip of his tongue. He released his cock and pushed two fingers into your pussy. You were so wet that he immediately added a third, making you groan against Javi’s cock.

“Make her come”, he said. “Wanna fuck that cunt again.”

When you came on Steve's tongue, Javi pushed himself all the way down your throat and held you against him until your moans stopped, making you choke on it, praising you with some “there it is, look at that… cuming on your tongue and choking on my cock.” You caught your breath with relief when he pulled out. Just before getting up, Steve slapped your pussy, making you jump, and spat on your clit, running his thumb over it one last time. The overstimulation made you shiver.

Javi settled himself between your thighs, and he rested his cock against your folds, his balls against the groove of your ass.

“You’re soaked. You get off like that when Gacha’s fucking you?”

He slid his shaft against your folds, waiting for your response. Seeing that you didn't answer, he slapped your clit, making you gasp.

“No! Fuck… No I don’t.”

“Tell me, cariño, why is that? He got a small dick?”

You sighed, and replied “yeah.”

“Mmm, I was sure of it. You got to have a small dick to need to compensate with a fucking bazooka.” He sank in one go, hitting the bottom, and you said “oh god!”. His hands tight on your thighs, he fucked you quickly, not giving you time to get used to it. Steve came over and asked if you had any whiskey.

“What?”

“Whiskey??”

“The fuck…. in the kitchen cabinet.”

He brought the bottle back and took a sip from the neck before spilling some on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of Javi’s hips. This made him laugh, and Javi leaned down to lick your alcohol covered tits, buried deep in your pussy, before fucking you again. You had difficulty resisting the urge to slide your fingers through his brown curls.

“Give me that bottle, Steve. And maybe we should handcuff her.”

“Nah… I like it when they fight a little.”

Javi snickered as he grabbed the bottle, and again you felt fear grip you. Why would they handcuff you? He took a sip too, before pulling out of you. “I think we can make this cheap whiskey taste better,” he said, then pressed the bottle against your entrance.

“No! No, wait!!!”

"Shut up. If you can take my cock, you can take it. For your safety I’ll be gentle.” You heard Steve laugh, as Javi pushed it in, while rotating your clit under his thumb.

“No, please, stop it!”

You didn't see the slap coming. Just heard the thud, and felt your cheek burn.

“Shut up,” he said, “Don’t make us repeat it.”

Just after slapping you, Steve grabbed your wrists in his hands, and positioned himself behind your head, on the other side of the table, facing Javi.

“Fuck her with it, Javi, I’ve got her.”

Javi slid the bottle further, continuing to stroke your clit with his thumb.

“Come on, cariño. Squeeze that bottle, cum on it. I know you can do it.”

You had encountered perverted clients before, but never to the point where they wanted to fuck you with a bottle. Despite the worry that he might hurt you, you forced yourself to relax, to make it easier. His thumb was helping you, too.

“Open your mouth, baby”, asked Steve.

You opened, and he spit in it. “Good girl,” he said, stroking your chin as you swallowed his saliva.

“How is she takin’ it?”

“Like a pro,” Javi laughed, and added, “well, she is, right?”

He tilted the bottle to pour some whiskey into your pussy, before removing it and sticking his tongue in your core, drinking the mixture of alcohol and wetness. The taste on his tongue was driving him crazy.

“Oh my god…Fuck”, you stammered. He kept licking, thirsty, starved, going down to your ass, where the whiskey had spilled.

Then he slid back the bottle in you, his thumb back on your clit, and you felt a new orgasm coming, already built by his tongue. You didn’t even try to hold it back, letting Javi’s thumb work your clit until you came all over the bottle.

“Fuck, look at that Steve! The whore is filling the bottle!”

He removed the bottle and took a sip, then passed it to Steve. He licked it before placing the bottle against his lips and drinking from it too.

“Way cheaper, thanks, baby,” he added, patting your cheek.

The degradation made you blush.

“Okay, remember I told you that soon you’d be bouncing on our cocks? Couch, now.” Javi grabbed your arm and led you to the couch where he sat down.

“Ride me. Wanna fill that pussy.”

You straddled him and took his cock in your hand, before gently impaling yourself on it.

“Oh fuck,” you said.

“Stop whining. Bounce on it now,” he said, and spanked you.

Your hands placed on his shoulders for support, you sank onto his cock, helped by his hands gripping your buttocks with each movement, then let you fall on his dick. Each time, he hit the bottom, and the pleasure mixed with the pain of his cock sinking too far.

Steve walked over, cock in his hand, and said, “time to fuck that mouth, baby.”

You slowed down the pace on Javi's cock so you could take Steve in your mouth, undulating your hips against Javi, and rubbing your clit against him.

Steve slid his cock into your mouth. It was slightly thicker than Javi’s, and your lips were barely able to take him in. You looked up at him as you let him set his pace. His icy gaze hadn't completely disappeared, and you told yourself that this man would be capable of destroying you while smiling, if he decided.

“Fuck, what a sight,” Javi said. “You’re pretty, cariño. I can't believe you let a guy like Gacha fuck you. Such a waste."

Your clit was still rubbing against Javi, and you came the third time, squeezing his cock with each spasm, your mouth full of Steve’s shaft.

“Fuck… this cunt’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard… ah fuck!!” he spilled his cum in you, while your walls were still contracting. You had barely finished cumming when Steve pulled out of your mouth and grabbed your arm, dragging you to the table and bending you over it. 

“Now, be good and take it”, he said, thrusting in immediately, in a slow powerful push, hands digging into your hips.

​“Oh fuck you’re right, she’s so tight. You often get fucked by two guys?”

“No.. No I don’t.”

“That’s… fuck… a fuckin’… shame.”

He cut off each word with a movement of his hips where he thrusted into you ever harder.

“There’s nothing better than the feeling of a pussy already filled with cum.” He grunted every time he hit the bottom, and you were barely able to keep yourself on the table. Each thrust threw you forward, and each time he gripped harder to thrust deeper in your pussy.

You had difficulty standing on your legs, the feeling of being reduced to a doll was amplified by your weak legs, like cotton.

He forced you to turn your head to the side to look at him and said “look at me, baby. You look at me when I’m ruining your cunt.”

You tried to hold on to the edge of the table to control the movements as much as possible but he didn't give you any respite, pounding your pussy incessantly.

“Gonna fill you too…Shit. Gonna fill that fuckin’ slut cunt.”

He grunted, and thrusted in one last time, freezing deep inside your pussy, and you felt warm trickles of cum lining your walls. You finally relaxed against the table, waiting for him to finish cumming, releasing the pressure of your fingers on the wood. 

He pulled out, spanked you and chuckled. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took another sip before passing it to Javi who had moved closer to the table. He then handed it to you, saying, “drink, cariño.”

“You’re fuckin’ twisted....” 

You drank, and they laughed. 

“Okay, baby. It was fun. Now tell us about Gacha. Give us all the info. Unless you want a second round? We didn’t fuck you with our guns, yet,” Steve said, grabbing his revolver. 

His icy gaze was back.

********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[aemondsbabe]

Arbor Gold

summary: sharing a drink & toys || rhaenyra treats you to a very special night out

pairing: modern!rhaenyra x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, public, fingering, use of a toy, vibrators, mentions of alcohol, mommy kink, sub!reader, allusions to oral, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.9k

a/n: happy day three of 12 days of smuff!! i was sweating writing this one, i can't lie lmao

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @gameofthronesdaily!

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“Oh, that’s perfect,” Rhaenyra says to the waiter, watching with a smile as he finishes pouring two glasses of wine with a fancy flourish before setting the bottle on the table, “Thank you.” 

With a polite nod, the waiter takes his leave, leaving you and your girlfriend alone once more. Your eyes scan the room once again, taking in the fancy dark wood paneling on the walls and the way the vintage crystal chandeliers sparkled as they cast a low, moody light over the room; the soft instrumental music coupled with the dull hum of other couples and groups of friends sharing quiet conversations comforted you despite the circumstances. 

Finally, you let your eyes sweep over Rhaenyra and your lips instantly curved into a soft, sweet smile as you took her in, watching as she took a sip of the decadent Arbor Gold wine. This whole little adventure had been her idea – something fun and new to do, she’d said. 

And she doesn’t disappoint, you think with a slight shiver as you shift a bit in the plush booth, the small vibrator she’d taken oh-so much care to work into you earlier presses deliciously against that small, sensitive patch within you. 

“Everything alright, sweetling?” Rhaenyra asks, finally catching your eyes from where you’d been absentmindedly staring at the flickering tea candle on the table. 

You smile and take her hand as she presses in closer to you, your bare shoulders nearly touching. You can’t help but admire her dress, a mirror copy of yours in every way aside from the color – the dark, blood red silk contrasts so beautifully against her soft, pale skin while the dim lights of the small bar dance off of the black silk of your own dress in smooth, pearlescent waves. 

“I’m fine, Nyra,” you can’t help but reassure her with a soft smile as you poke your tongue out to wet your lips before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, “Just wondering when exactly you plan to start the show.” You tease, nodding to her phone. 

“Now where would the fun be in revealing all my tricks?” She gives as good as she gets, her eyes gleaming as she looks you over appreciatively. She takes another sip of the wine, taking the time to swirl it around in her glass before delicately pressing her lips to the rim. You can’t help but bite your lip as she closes her eyes with a pleased hum. “Have you had any of yours yet? You really need to try it, my love, it’s absolutely decadent.”

You reach across the table and grab your glass, swirling the pale yellow-gold liquid around in the same way Rhaenyra did before taking a sip, sighing happily as you taste all manner of sweet, fruity notes. 

You go to look at her with raised brows, about to compliment the expensive vintage as well, when she discreetly taps the screen of her phone. You only manage to get a soft, barely there squeak out as the vibrator comes to life inside you and buzzes softly against the most tender spot within you before Rhaenyra quickly leans over and presses her lips against yours, muffling the noise. 

You sigh gratefully against her lips as your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands squeezes at her thigh, and you’re grateful that each table is adorned with a long tablecloth as your hips seem to buck up by themselves for a second. 

She pulls away after a moment, once she can sense that you’ve calmed down some, and fixes you with a pleased grin before pressing one last, soft kiss against your shoulder. “That good already?” She teases, lifting her glass to her lips to take another sip of wine, “And to think, we’re only on the first level.”

You shiver, knuckles white as your fingers dig into the dark fabric of your dress, your hands pressed tightly against the tops of your thighs as you try and keep your hips still as Rhaenyra taps her phone screen, giggling as she turns the vibrations up a level. 

Your skin is flushed, though you aren’t sure if it’s from the wine or from the incessant vibrations within you. You throw Rhaenyra another helpless glance, your fingers digging into her plush thigh as a warning that your peak is approaching. 

She merely huffs out a soft laugh next to you and reaches out to tuck a lock of your hair back behind your ear before cupping your cheek, her pale eyes dancing over your face as she admires the blush that’s bloomed across your skin. 

“Oh, pretty little thing,” she coos softly, smirking when she notices your lower lip trembling as you desperately try and bite back the moans threatening to spill from your lips, “Are you getting closer, my love?”

You nod as your walls clench desperately around the toy, the movement only serving to press it even more firmly against your sweet spot. You bite down on your bottom lip, your nails no doubt leaving small crescent moon marks against Rhaenyra’s delicate skin, as you try to control your breathing. 

Just as you’re about to whisper that you can’t take much more, the waiter reappears, walking up to your table with a polite smile. You nearly cry as Rhaenyra quickly turns off the toy, although you can’t say whether it’s from relief or frustration from being so, so close. 

“Is everything to your liking, ladies?” He asks, his gaze lingering on you for a second as he looks between the two of you.

“Everything is perfect.” Rhaenyra answers with a cool smile, casually taking a sip of wine. 

“Wonderful, and is there anything else I can do for you all this evening?”

“I think we’re good over here,” she says, smirking as she spares you a glance, “Just bring the check when you get a moment, please. No rush, though.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The waiter says with a polite nod before taking his leave. 

As soon as he’s gone, Rhaenyra presses herself close to you and you almost whine when you feel her breasts press against the side of your arm, her nipples hard and aching against the thin fabric of her dress. A chill goes through you at the realization that she’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“That was going to be a big one, wasn’t it, sweetling?” She murmurs softly, one of her warm hands skimming across your bare thigh as she tucks it under your dress. 

“Nyra, please,” you all but gasp, trembling next to her as your center aches, your walls squeezing helplessly at the toy, “Please…” You’re not even really sure what you’re asking for as you beg, your mind covered in a thick fog. 

“Mmm,” she sighs, relishing the way you squirm in her hold as she skirts her hand higher and higher up your thigh, until the edge of her fingers are just barely pressing against the center of your thin lace underwear, “I don’t think it’s Nyra tonight, my little darling.” She says with a soft shake of her head, a few strands of her silvery hair falling beautifully against her cleavage. 

“Mommy,” you correct yourself with a choked whimper, eyes glassy as you peer up at her, “Please, please.” 

“Please what?” She asks, the condescending edge to her voice making your head spin, “Please take you home? Please make you come?” She prompts, eyebrows raised slightly as she smirks. 

“I –,” you choke out, nearly jumping out of your skin when she turns the vibrator back on, not bothering to ease you into it as it buzzes away at a high speed, “F-Fuck.” You hiss, your body already tensing as the knot in your belly winds itself up at an alarming rate. 

“I think you want to come,” she says lowly, nodding her own head as if to answer the question for you, “Luckily for you, mommy’s in such a giving mood tonight.” She studies your face carefully as she pushes your underwear to the side, her eyes positively sparkling once she feels how wet you are. 

You bite your lip harshly, nearly drawing blood, as she begins rubbing circles over your aching bud, not bothering to warm you up as she normally does as her soft fingers press harshly against you. Your head spins as she works you up and up and up, your high building at nearly the same pace as the vibrations within you as she slowly increases the speed of the toy. 

Before you’ve even had a chance to process the sensations flowing through your body, your head snaps to her and your eyes are wide as you look at her desperately, soft squeaks sounding from your throat. She merely looks at you expectantly – she may be in a giving mood but that didn’t mean she had to make the getting easy. 

“M–,” You barely choke out the first syllable before your eyes squeeze shut, your core already starting to flutter around the small toy, “M-Mommy, mommy!” You urgently whisper, finally finding your voice before gritting your teeth, your breath catching in your throat just as you feel the very beginnings of a familiar tightening overtaking your belly. 

“Let mommy have it, sweetling,” Rhaenyra coos, not stopping the movements of her fingers as she feels your bud twitch against her fingers. She murmurs soft praises into your ear as your high washes over you, talking you through it as your hips squirm against the lush fabric of the booth. “That’s a very good girl. Is that such a big one, darling? You did so, so good for me, sweetling.”

Her soft praises nearly send you over the edge again, but thankfully she decides to spare you and turns off the vibrator before slowly extracting her hand from your underwear, taking a second to make sure to move them back into place for you, the small gesture making your heart skip a beat. 

She laughs softly next to you, the sound making you open your eyes and you nearly moan at the sight of her dipping a finger, still shining from where she’d touched you, into the half-full cup of wine in front of her. She takes a second to swirl it around before bringing it to her lips, her eyes gleaming as she sucks at the digit; the sight alone is enough to make your tender walls clamp down on the toy but the small, satisfied moan she makes just about sends you spiraling over the edge yet again. 

“That’s definitely my new favorite pairing.” She teases, smirking at the wide-eyed look on your face. 

“Nyra!” You laugh, your heart racing in your chest as you feel the butterflies in your tummy stir yet again while the two of you dissolve into flirtatious giggles. 

Just then, the waiter appears with the check, which Rhaenyra quickly scans over before passing her credit card to him. She turns to you as soon as he disappears around a corner, the coy look in her eyes making you feel flush all over again.

“I can’t wait to get you home, sweetling,” she sighs softly and presses a kiss against the curve of your neck before polishing off the last bit of wine in her cup, “Mommy is absolutely dying for something sweet for dessert…” She teases, raking her hand back up your thigh.

A giving mood, indeed.

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[seeingivy]

love of my life

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicidal thoughts, parental abuse, please read at your own discretion. protect your peace!!!

sukuna realizes, only in the exact moment that your arms wrap around his waist and he feels you bury your cheek against the bare skin of his back, that he should have known you would have woken up if he left you in bed alone. 

it’s a quiet panic first – to wipe the wetness away from his cheek, to swallow hard enough to make sure that his voice doesn’t waver when he speaks – to make sure that you don’t clock the fact that he was crying. 

“i get why you complain all the time now, ryomen.” you murmur. 

it’s enough to make his heart skip a beat – the soft muffled tone and the sleep still heavy in your voice – as he tries to muster a normal response. 

“and why’s that, princess?” 

“bed is cold without you. i can barely sleep.” 

sukuna turns around, watching as you lazily hook your arms around his torso and lean your head against his shoulder, your eyes still pinched shut from the brightness of the light. he takes the quiet second to observe the bruise by your eye, swollen to its peak, and it nearly makes him cringe. 

he knew all too well that it would puff up for all of today, that there would be a lingering headache for two days, before it started to fade to green and yellow before disappearing at the end of the week. 

“should ice this, doll. does it hurt?” he whispers. 

“it’s okay. lights are kind of bright, but –” 

“take an advil. i’ll get you one.” 

he quickly steadies you out of his embrace, before darting away to the cabinets, rummaging through as he produces a glass of water for you. and you lean against the counter, making the mistake of trying to rub your eyes, forgetting the sensitive spot on the left. 

you hiss at the sensation, which has him turning around with wide eyes. 

“sorry. i rubbed my eyes and i forgot.” 

it’s a quiet laugh that comes out of sukuna, before he walks up to your side, placing the pill in the palm of your hand and the glass in the other. you shoot him a grateful smile – which is when you’re able to clock the rimmed pink around his eyes and the tear streaks on his face. 

you immediately set the glass down, reaching forward and rubbing the side of his cheek, only to have it confirm your suspicions when the wetness transfers to your fingers. 

“hey. what’s wrong?” you whisper. 

he shakes his head as he lifts your left hand closer, insisting that you take the advil. you oblige, quickly swallowing it down with the water, before you hook your hands around his neck. you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to level yourself with his eyes, and insist for the answer again. 

“allergies,” he responds. 

you frown.

“sukuna.” you whine. 

you lean forward, closing the distance between you, as you sag your weight onto his shoulder. you’re not sure what it does for him – rubbing circles into his back, pressing lazy kisses to his shoulder – but it only makes him pull you closer, almost suffocating the air out of you when he squeezes harder. 

“you don’t have to tell me. i just want to know you can if you want to, because i’m ready to listen.” 

“yesterday was a lot for you. we can talk about –” he starts. 

“yesterday was more for you than it was for me. yuuji and i already have plans to go to coffee that he made last night, i have a feeling it’ll go well, and…my eye will heal. sammy and i kind of debriefed everything after on text and her rage weirdly made me feel better. but i know that was a lot for you and that you don’t have a sammy that fixed things for you or yuuji trying to resolve it with you. so i’m fine, i’m just worried about you.” 

sukuna leans back, placing his hands around your waist before he lifts you onto the counter. 

“did you want hot chocolate? i made some.” 

you cringe at the deflection, but turn to the left to find the little saucepan boiling on the stove. 

“just share with me.” 

“okay baby, you say that but then you drink the entire thing.” sukuna deadpans. 

“i won’t. it’s the middle of the night and i know i won’t sleep if i do.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs, as he tilts the saucepan to the left, and pours it into the mug. he slides it over to you, letting you take the first sip, before you hand it back to him and let him take the next. 

you can’t help but stare at the tear marks. 

it was a rare occasion to see sukuna cry, but not unheard of. it was only when things felt really hopeless in your opinion, that he’d let himself get far enough to cry. or really, when it only felt appropriate or safe for him too. 

you remember in passing that yuuji used to think that sukuna was heartless, because he had never seen him cry before. and now that you think about it, it makes you think about sammy – about how you can’t really recall if she ever cried when you were younger. 

it makes you feel guilty – that she never felt safe enough to. that maybe she felt the need to front like sukuna did for yuuji, that he was so responsible for him that he couldn't show that he was struggling either and maybe she felt that way too. 

“i want to tell you…it’s just that…” 

he pauses. 

“i don’t want you to take it the wrong way. i’m really upset this happened to you, this…this makes me more furious and frustrated than you understand and i…” 

you snort. 

“i have an idea. we were barely two weeks into dating and you punched your boss for me, so..” 

sukuna smiles, before pausing. 

“do you want me to be mad? about yesterday?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“like. like would it upset you if that wasn’t the main thing i was thinking about? like later, if we fought or something, you’d be like…oh i got punched in the face and he wasn’t mad enough about that because he was thinking about his own things? because…” 

“no.” 

sukuna raises his eyebrows, almost like he doesn’t believe you. 

“no.” you confirm. 

you reach for his hands, locking your fingers in with his free one. 

“i know that this is all complicated. that this might bring up bad memories for you.” you whisper. 

you can see the recognition clock on his face, that you know exactly what he’s talking about because you remember, as he gives you a mere nod. sukuna feels like you might know how to read his mind. or that he’s just given so much of himself to you at this point that it’s impossible for you not to. 

“i don’t want you to be mad. i don’t need you to defend me or protect me. i want you to be whatever it is you’re feeling, i want you to talk to someone about this if you never have, and to know that i love you even though –” 

he holds his hand up, pinching his eyes shut, as he starts to shake his head. you stop, leaving the silence hanging between the two of you before he talks again. 

“i’m sorry. i love you but it’s…it’s…” 

his voice starts to shake and the tears rise again in his eyes. and you can tell that he’s trying to swallow it down as hard as he can, trying to push it down, and it makes your chest twist in an unpleasant way. 

“it’s too much to hear, right now. i’m thinking a lot of things and it’s just hard to…” 

“okay. i’m sorry.” 

he winces. 

“fuck. please don’t think i’m turning down your affection or that i’m mad at you. i love you. i love all the sweet things you say to me. i’m just not used to this especially when i feel like this and i –” 

you offer him a smile. 

“i know.” you whisper. 

sukuna pauses before his eyes soften. it’s the same lovesick look in his eyes that he gives you – the almost tangible sign to you that he loves you, in earnest. 

“you know?” he asks, voice cracking. 

you can’t help but frown as you reach forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“i know it can be a lot when you aren’t used to it. i know it’s not personal. i just hope you know that i will eventually make you reach a point where you…you can accept that from me. i’ll keep trying till i die if i have to.” you state. 

sukuna smiles, before closing the space between the two of you, and placing a lingering kiss on your lips. 

“i cut you off. you were saying something.” you state. 

“yeah. yeah…i was just…” 

sukuna pauses, before he turns around towards one of the back cabinets. it’s a little white package, with his name inscribed on the label that he hands to you. you give him a strange look, as you open up the box, only to find an insane amount of wrapping. 

after ripping all of the tape and paper out, you pull out two little ceramic mugs, flowery designs of pink and green on them. 

“mugs?” 

“i realized all my mugs here are boring. i bought you some and they’re actually like…bridgerton special edition or something. that one is season one and that one is season two. i saw it and just figured you’d like them because –” 

“oh shut up. you’re so cute!” you respond, holding the little mug close to your chest. 

“you’re very easily impressed.” he states. 

“you saw mugs and thought of me! and your mugs are so boring, it’s like you were reading my mind.” 

the thought of you being a mind reader crosses sukuna’s mind again. 

you give him a gleeful smile, which makes his face light up, before he takes them from you and places them to the sides. 

“about the mugs. i just…i couldn’t sleep after you finally did because i was stuck thinking about everything. mainly of what i was going to do tomorrow morning, when you woke up. i texted sammy, she’s going to come for breakfast to check on your eye with her friend. and i was going to make french toast, surprise you with the mugs before you woke up, and…and make hot chocolate the way you like. i even already timed the doordash order because we don’t have marshmallows and i just…” 

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard. it’s an eye roll that he gives you in response, but you can see the smallest whisper of a smile on his lips. 

“have i ever told you that you’re the love of my life?” 

“that’s a big statement. the love of your entire life? you’re only twenty-two, angel.” 

“love. of. my. life.” you confirm. 

he smiles, shaking his head. 

“you’re so sweet. why would i ever get mad at you thinking that?” you ask. 

sukuna pauses, before dropping his eyes to your hands. you offer him your free hand and nurse the filled mug of hot chocolate in  your free one, as he fiddles with your hands in his, cracking each of the knuckles in your hand. you can tell that he’s trying to think of what it is, trying to word whatever it is that’s in his mind, and you only squeeze his hands in yours as a signal. 

to take his time. 

“the first time my dad hit me, i…” 

you hear sniffling and look up only to find a steady stream of tears pouring out of his eyes. it makes your heart drop in your chest, as you push off of the counter, and wrap your arms around him. he buries his head into your neck, the wetness trickling down your shirt, as you quietly hum into his ears, running your free hand through his hair. 

it takes him a few minutes to compose himself. but you can tell that his panic is tapering when his breaths start slowing down and he starts wiping the wetness on the back of his hand. he pulls back, giving you a shaky nod, as you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before he continues. 

“the first time my dad hit me, i was seven.” 

you feel your throat dry. the first time he had come to your house after the fact was when he was twelve. meaning there was five years you hadn’t even thought to consider, to inspect in your memories for signs of it all. 

“no one was home. yuuji had piano and my mom was picking him up and he…he was going through some of my stuff without permission. they were just drawings but i…i can’t remember why i didn’t want him to see. why i was so upset. but i was just was and i started screaming at him and he…he backhand slapped me so hard i fell to the ground.” he murmurs. 

you wince, thinking of sukuna at seven, with his always grumpy face and basketball jerseys getting crumpled onto the ground. you can feel the tears burning in the back of your eye, but try your best to swallow them down. 

“i went to sleep that night and it was the first time i thought about dying.” 

you can feel the air leave your chest. you curl your hand into a fist, your nails indenting the softness of your skin, as you give him a nod to continue. he looks down at your hands and frowns, before uncurling your hands and locking them in with his own. 

“don’t clench your jaw. and don’t ball your hands like that, just…just squeeze my hands instead. i know it’s a lot.” 

it’s a light demand that he gives you and you all but oblige. 

“i am ready to listen, i just…” you start. 

“i nearly broke my own hands listening to you talk about mazzy. it was hard on my heart to know any of that happened.” 

he cups your cheek in his hand, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“i understand. you’re just so down horrendous for me that it hurts.” he states. 

you glare at him. 

“you’re not even far off by saying that.” you deadpan. 

he smiles. 

“i know.” 

you give him a smile back, nearly shivering from the how bare it felt – the shared understanding that you’re seeming to get now – as he continues. 

“every time it happened, i would think about dying. it was never really concrete, like how i was going to do it or making a plan, but…it would just come back to me. i would think about my own death all the time – how it would feel, how it would make other people feel.” 

he pauses. 

“made me feel guilty sometimes. thinking about it, because i know my mom and yuuji needed me, that it would make you and sammy sad and…and i don’t know. it felt wrong to think about, like…like i was committing a crime.” 

he shrugs. 

“sometimes i’d find something to take my mind off of it. my grades at first, winning all those awards. made me feel good until it was too easy. then…then it was girls. i liked the things they said to me – that i was smart, that i was hot.” 

you snort. he gives you a joking glare, before he continues. 

“but then it would get too far, i would get so disgustingly turned off whenever they tried to tell me they loved me because…because i knew they didn’t. and..” 

he pauses, before his eyes go wide. 

“i love it when you tell me you love me. please don’t ever stop.” 

you smile, before stifling a laugh. 

“i love you.” 

he groans. 

“god, why was that kind of hot?” 

you snort. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! that was really hot. made my skin fucking…burn or something i don’t know. shut up. i hate you.” 

“i was just doing what you asked.” you clarify. 

“and it turns me on when you’re so obedient. you know that.” 

you shake your head, as he laughs. 

“ew. you’re so gross, sukuna.” 

you both laugh, as you watch sukuna visibly relax. 

you can tell that the jokes, as misplaced as they seem in the conversation, make it easier for him to keep going – that they’re soothing his nerves. 

you can’t lie that it doesn’t do the same for you. it’s overwhelming concern that he isn’t okay, that you need to call someone, but the tiniest shreds of this are small reminders that…that maybe he’s just recounting the memory. that maybe it’s just a considerably smaller part of him now, or that it lives in the past, and just informs who he is now. 

he continues. 

“it got worse. i started bleeding into other things too. i didn’t get basketball captain and that was the first thought that came to mind – that i wanted to die. a girl would stop talking to me because she thought i was a dick and that was the only thing i could think about for days after. it got so bad that…that one time i was at school and i didn’t get my locker combination right the first time. and all i thought about was that i was going to sit in my car, drive home, and forget to make the last turn and just go straight into the light pole.” 

sukuna’s messing with the charms of your necklace, running his hand over the star as he talks. you can tell that…that it’s almost rambling now, that he needs it to keep himself tethered. 

“then those got more vivid. thinking of concrete ways. in my dreams, while i was in class. falling down, falling asleep and never waking up. and whenever i’d fight with my dad, if…if i found out he hit my mom while i was gone, i just…” 

he pauses, before he looks up at you. 

“i only left for europe because i knew i was going to die if i didn’t.” you whisper. 

you nod. 

of course that’s why he left. the only time he physically had to put himself over the two of them. because the pain of him being gone entirely, as opposed to a few years, was the calculated choice he had to make. 

you reach forward, placing your hand on the side of his cheek, as he leans into the touch. 

“i’m glad you didn’t. we all need you here. like, indefinitely.” you whisper. 

he smiles. 

“it did get better after that. i liked being there, i…i met a lot of different people when i was studying there. visited random places just to see what it was like out there, maybe that things were different. i got a therapist after my third week and just, just had my own life. learned my own limits. what i like, what i don’t.” 

you smile. 

“heavy on learning what i did like. i will note that i missed you a lot when i was there.” 

you scoff. 

“liar. you’re just trying to romance me.” 

he rolls his eyes. 

“what’s your computer background?” 

you squint your eyes at him. 

“your computer locksreen. what has it been since you got your first computer?” he asks. 

“monet. the waterlillies.”

“do you know where the waterlilies are in real life?” 

you smile. 

“let me guess. in europe?” 

he smiles back, before lifting your hands to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“france. musée de l’orangerie. oval rooms, they were put up after monet died.” 

it makes your heart flutter – the way the french falls out of his mouth perfectly. 

“museum of orange?” 

“haha. hilarious.” he responds. 

you grin in response. 

“but really. i heard they were in france. i thought of you and then i had to go see them. i found the exact one – the purple and blue that i had seen on your computer – and all i could think about for the entire week was how you were. how you were a soft spot, how my memories with yuuji were too, and at that basketball park near our house” 

you can feel your chest burning – just from how much you love him. 

“you’ll have to go again. to the waterlillies. but with me this time, okay?” you ask. 

he’s smiling from ear to ear. 

“that’s a promise.” he whispers. 

you lean forward, closing the space between you two. it’s a long kiss – only because every time you try to pull away, he’s just leaning forward so it doesn’t stop. 

“i love you.” he states. 

“me too. more than you know.” you affirm. 

“thanks…thanks for getting it. you…you really are fucking made for me because i don’t get how anyone else would take that.” 

you tilt your head to the side. 

“i don’t get how you think anyone wouldn’t. that’s…that’s normal to think about. to have it come up.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“i don’t know. i was just sitting there in bed thinking about it because…because i was planning all that stuff. like calling sammy and the breakfast. and really, if something like this happened years ago when i was here, i’d be thinking of how i wanted to die. and i was just…thinking about what i wanted to do instead. almost like i was looking forward to the next morning, to…to making you feel good and having a good day for us.” 

you smile. 

“i’ve felt that way a lot since i came back. i got nanami a really good birthday gift and i couldn’t wait to give it to him. or when some dumb pop culture thing happens and i see it in the news..it makes satoru so happy when i ask him to explain it that sometimes i find myself looking forward to it. just…reasons to wake up in the morning i guess?” 

“i’m going to tell satoru.” you state. 

“no, you’re not. i’m never talking to you again.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i don’t know. i figured you’d want me to just think about you after yesterday. a lot of people do and…and most of the time it is just about you, i swear. but i think that…” he starts.

you shake your head. 

“i don’t want you to just think about me. like…if you’re having a sex dream and someone else comes up, i will hate you forever. but it shouldn’t just be me. i want you to have your own life, i want me to have my own, and that we’re just parts of it for each other. and to me…what you told me just sounds like you were making sense of where i fit in with the rest of your life. i would never ever hate that. that’s where i want to be, in there with everything else.” 

sukuna sighs, before leaning his forehead against yours. it’s a long pause before he talks again, but the silence is filled by warm kisses to the side of your face that make your skin singe. 

“did you know that you’re the love of my life?” he whispers. 

you roll your eyes. 

“i said it first.” 

he places his hands around your cheeks, before gently angling your face up so that you’re looking at him. 

“you’re the love of my life. that’s really where you fit in.” sukuna states. 

you can’t help but smile, biting down on the sides of your cheek from the sweetness. 

“you were the first girl i ever liked. the only one i thought about when i was gone. the only one i could ever tell this to. and now i can’t be anywhere except if it’s with you. you’re the love of my life.” 

you smile, before you shake your head. 

“you’re the first guy i ever liked. the only person i ever thought about until you left. you’re the only person i can give myself to. and i…i’m tied to you – you…you can’t get away even if you tried. you’re the love of my life too.” 

he smiles back. 

“i’m not trying.” 

“okay, well it’s a threat. you can’t try.” you joke. 

“i’m not going to.” he whispers, full of sincerity. 

he locks his hand in with yours, before pulling you back towards the bedroom, where you tangle your limbs again until it’s impossible to be closer.

“just one thing before you sleep.” sukuna states. 

“what?” 

“we’re having separate cups of hot chocolate in the morning. you drank the entire fucking cup.”

--

an: PHEW my heart hurts. my favorite chapter me thinks. the fluff is DISGUSTING!!! TOOTH ROTTING! anyways. lets all thank miss taylor alison swift for writing who's afraid of little old me? because that's what made me think of this chapter and how I wanted to come out. like the "I was tame I was gentle until the circus life made me mean" 😭

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[hidtired]

A Single Punch

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

The smallest action in a single moment can change everything.

Description: The line up ends with 3 supposed dead members of the group. Sometimes you have to know when to play dead. Even when all else goes to hell.

1.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, character death(s), very depressing, typical walking dead shenanigans)[happy ending… eventually]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Your POV

You would have gone after Daryl when he rushed out of Alexandria on a revenge mission. If not for the terrible rattle in your lungs. Every breath you took was heard. Sharp and painful. Denise the poor soul told you it sounded like walking pneumonia. Not necessarily deadly but hard to fix with limited resources.

So here you are sitting in your bathroom on the floor with the shower as hot as it could get to open your lungs. Trying desperately not to think about Daryl being reckless and doing only god knew what. A light knocking on the door shaking you from your thoughts.

“Come in.”

The door opened hastily releasing most of the steam out the door. Rick walking in past you to turn the shower off. Rick looked down at you offering a hand up. “We are heading off to hilltop. Something is wrong with Maggie and the baby. I would like for you to get checked out by the doctor there to.” Slowly getting up nodding your head. No use arguing with him when he was probably right.

While walking to the RV you looked to Rick calmly, “Thank you Rick, for being my family.” Rick looked to you with a raised brow and smirk. ‘Your loopy from sickness and meds he thought.’ He helped you in the RV to the back with a struggling Maggie. Maggie took notice on your tired state with pale skin as you did her. Rick putting a hand to Maggie’s shoulder,

“We are leaving in a minute, everything is going to be ok.”

The ride was going smoothly until the RV stopped. You exchanged a glance with Maggie, “Let’s hope we aren’t dead in the water like with Dales RV, really don’t feel like walking.” This made Maggie smile a little thinking about Dale all that time ago. Successfully distracting her for a moment.

This smooth ride turned to a nightmare with saviors popping up over and over again. Leading to you having to walk in the beginning of dusk. Maggie being carried. The whistling stirred your already hard breathing. The headlights causing your head to spin and struggle with balance. You felt like death. You felt warm and cold- a fever you thought. You were dazed but still had the right wits about you to know you were in danger. You felt a tapping on your leg, looking to see Carl on his knees. Catching the hint you followed suit. You couldn’t be bothered and sat on the back of your legs.

“Y/n…”

That what caught you out of your stupor. His voice. Daryl’s voice. You look up to see him. Pale and cover in his own blood. Tears now rimmed at your eyes. The RV door opened to reveal a man with a bat. “Pissing are pants yet?” You looked back to Daryl staring at him from across the line of your family. The slight sound of the whistle of your breathe could be heard. You were hazy struggling to comprehend the conversation going on. The man Negan you think, was walking and had stop in front of you yapping on and on about something like “was I dying of the plague” and “look like shit my dear.” He waved his hand in front of me.

“She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on does she.” Negan huffed.

Negan was walking between everyone reciting Eenie, Meenie Miny, Moe. ‘He was choosing which one of you to kill.’ You thought. He stopped in front of Abraham. Your breathing was turning faster from fear, there for making it harder for you to breath. “If any body moves-“ your ears are ringing. The first crunch of the bat to his head made you gasp then cough.

“Suck my nuts.”

Your ears ring in your brain watching blow after blow to Abraham. Negan flinging his blood in every direction. Your breathing hard, tears burning in your eyes. You reach a hand to curl to the back of your head. The other hand curling into a ball at your chest. Your clucking the hair so hard in your grip you might pull a chunk. You simply couldn’t inhale.

Negan turns to Rick then brought his eyes to you. “Well shit, looks like are little plague here bout dead.” Daryl watch’s as you try and take a breathe in, tears streaming down his face. You look worse than you did this morning. “I’m a merciful man!” Negan proclaimed, sauntering over to you. “Let me help sweetheart…” You just begin to look up at him catching a glimpse of the bat swing down to you. A crushing pain radiates through you head as you come crashing to the floor. But not just your head but hand as well.

“NOOO!” Daryl speeding toward Negan rocking him with a punch. Daryl getting easily pinned. He sobbed looking at your still body.

You were in pain and frozen like a deer in head lights. Your vision blur and the feeling of blood flowing from somewhere. The hit knocked some air into you and you tried you best to calm it. It was sallow but there. Your vision started to tunnel, blackness taking you into unconsciousness hearing sounds of the sobs of your family.

Daryl POV

In a single moment you were gone. They drag me back to my spot in line but I could only look to her still body. What was the last thing she had even said to me. This asshole killed you and he was blabbing on. He stepped out of line and was going to be joining you, he accepted that. The burning hate looking into Negans eyes. Negan only smiled, “That little plague was yours huh.” He chuckled to himself. “You should be thanking me, poor thing was dying, it was a mercy kill.” He back up a little.

“I don’t know what kind of lying asshole you’ve been dealing with but, I did say you only get one! No expectations.”

Daryl clenched his teeth, he expected his fate and accepted at least your body’s were to be buried together. “Welp, back to it!” But Negan pivoted and hit… Glenn. Sinking he felt like he was sinking. His mouth wide with shock. Glenn started stammering, Negan taunting him. “M-Maggie I’ll f-find you.” Negan winding up to hit him again. Daryl listened to Maggie’s pleas just like how his were he assumed. Hit after hit felt deeper like they should have been the one to be on him. Silents for a moment with Negan catching his breathe from exertion. This didn’t feel real. He had to be dreaming.

“Load him up.” He was being dragged away. He had little fight left in him but he fought against it. Hearing the people around him plea. He looked on to where you lay. His world, was gone and yet he still walked among it. His action then got someone’s else’s world killed. Guilt ate at him. Doors slammed in front of his face back to the darkness he once came, but now pieces missing inside him.

Rick POV

It was silent after the saviors left. Sun rising. Everyone trying to comprehend everything. Rick thought when he was being dragged to the RV with Negan that he was next. His anger at the time was now just fear. It was Maggie first to move toward her dead husband. They all scrambled to help her. She sobbed and still despite it all was still in need of a doctor.

Rick kneel next to her above Glenn. “Let us help please, he was are family to.” She agreed and stumbled into a hug with Carl. Rick looking down toward Glenn, his savior, this man was the reason he was alive and found his family. Rick gasped at the thought, ‘Thank you Rick, for being my family.’ He looked back to you, your body less maimed than the rest. You were here because Rick made you go. Hilltop, Maggie. He turned back to Maggie, “We still need to get you to Hilltop.” he looked to her with a little resolve.

Maggie clearly distraught, “I’ll get there myself, you were out here for me. I can’t let anything else happen. I just can’t.” Before he could even begin to disagree, Sasha spoke up. “I’ll take her. You need to get back to Alexandria.” Maggie agreed adding, “Y-you need to figure out to take them out.” Rick looked at her slowly shaking his head. “They have Daryl.” Rick said, and at mention of Daryl’s name the turned to your body.

Rick bit his lips trying to not break. Everyone started to move to put the bodys in the back of the truck that Sasha and Maggie were taking to Hilltop. Your body being the last, Aaron picking you up in one swoop as everyone help to lay you down into the bed of the truck between Glenn and Abraham. More tears were shed.

Before splitting into different cars, Rick goes to Maggie hugging her before she gets in the passenger seat. The rest follow to say there goodbyes for now and hope for the baby to be well.

Looking into the side mirror he look back to seeing puddles of blood and a walker kneeling down to it. Looking forward to not break from the sight and think about those he lost he make eye contact with Michonne. Then he started to drive.

??? POV

Sasha was driving to Hilltop periodically looking towards Maggie. Her mission. Maggie had tears from pain a lost going down her face. The silence was cut with a slap to the back window of the truck. A bloody hand smearing down the glass. The girls turn to each other. You must have turned, head not completely crushed like the others. Maggie sniffled, “Pull over, I don’t want her eating them.”

They both circled the back to put you down. Hearing the grumbling noise coming from you. The tailgate fell with a loud bang. Sasha climbing up knife in hand. When they heard it.

“I can’t, please it hurts.” Slurred and rough. You were alive.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open! Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so any help with grammar or spelling would be great!

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Plastic heart - (4)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

The OG Barbie movie made me believe in magic.

---

“Give me the rollerblades.”, you stomped up the stairs to only notice then, that weird Barbie was headed out.

“I would but we’re all gathering for the sending away party are we not?”, she asked you but in the state that you were in, you were sure your plastic heart was melting. Atleast that was what you hoped your body could do, so it could shed this uneasy feeling. To become a rain cloud so you could pour it all out.

“Who are we sending away?”, you asked feeling out of touch with everything going on.

“Stereo. She’s having a crisis.”, you heard the answer and began to zone out. So that was what she meant before. If she was leaving, then you possibly had a chance now, a thought gripped you.

But the anger that Ken displayed flashed in front of your eyes again. As much as you loved him, he didn’t.

“Tell me where they are and I’ll get it myself.”, you brushed past her. Your only need right now was to forget.

“In the trunk. Don’t forget to read the instructions.”, she bid you farewell as she went on her way while you trudged ahead to find your cure.

The house was dark and eerie. No one could explain why dark clouds swirled around this particular house or maybe it was an aesthetical add on. There was only one trunk, placed in the center with ominous lighting over it. The fear was beginning to take root.

Why would you need instructions for rollerblades?

As you popped open the lid, it let out a hiss and smoke began to bellow from within it. As you seated away the grey wisps, you caught sight of a shimmering pink rollerblade set that looked brand new.

You reached for it and picked it up, the metal rim gleaming almost as if you heard voices telling you to put it on.

In it’s place was a small post it note with something written on it.

In bold font, it was labeled as ‘instructions’

Go to the tunnel of dreams and use the rollerblades to venture further in.

At the heart of the tunnel, you will be shown your deepest desire that could fix your broken heart.

If you chose to accept it, a path will open that will take you to it.

That seemed much more simpler than the box of chocolates. You began to wonder why she didn’t give this to you in the first place.

So you took the skates, the instructions and exited weird Barbie’s house, the cold air was making your smooth skin shiver.

Malfunctioning was the worst experience, so much so that you had had enough of it. You just wanted to go back to your routine, forget Ken and start making cakes again.

‘The tunnel of dreams’, a vintage poster that looked faded was stuck on to the side of a big gapping hole that you were sure was the just the main sewer tunnel. Except it looked it wasn’t in use.

You looked back at Barbie land, you could hear faint cheers and fireworks, no one was going to notice you had gone. You inhaled deeply and then put on the blades. There was nothing here that could make you stay and if you truly were to get your heart’s desire by doing this. Then there was no better bargain.

The wheels glided smoothly against the plastic floor of the pipe, the dark enveloping you until you could see a small light at the end, which began to glow brighter as you approached it.

The buzzing white light was actually coming from a small vintage TV, it’s screen flickering with different ads of different barbies. As you came to a halt in front of it, the screen flickered and it played an advertisement about you.

"Great potential combined with impeccable skill to make the most profound dishes from all around the world. This Barbie has it all, the house, the intellect, the resilience to survive in the most cruel places, *with a drumroll* ‘the chefs kitchen’."

"But not everyone can have everything. This Barbie however does not have a Ken accessory and the one Ken she loves never truly sees her for who she is. "

"So go follow your dreams and establish your careers by adding her to your collection!"

*Each item sold separately

Now that didn’t make anything better. The screen glitched to have a noisy black screen as you stood there taking in the information. But from the darkness came a voice, starting soft as a whisper to soon becoming a commanding echo.

“Is that what you dream of?”

“Is that who you are?”

“What do you long for?”

"Speak it out at once."

The silence had vanished and as the voices echoed, the TV came alive playing pictures of your life here.

What did you long for?

You didn’t know anymore.

Say it

What did you want?

Say it

You covered your ears and began to crumble as the space around you became overwhelming.

The noise, the swirling wind, the jarring lights from the TV that began to flick images from your mind, all of them full of Ken and a few from the bakery. As the foundation of your life began to shake, it cracked all the unnecessary thoughts until there was only one that echoed along with the voices outside.

You wanted to feel like yourself again.

To wake up and wear your outfit and smile like this was who you had always wanted to be.

So you said it softly, first. Unsure.

“I want to be me.”

But it was lost in all the chaos around you, so you began to yell.

“I want to be me.”

“I want to feel like me again.”, you didn’t know you had that in you, a commanding presence to change this storm. And as you peeled away your hands to stand up straight because now you knew your demand. Your true desire.

If you didn’t value who you were? Deriving satisfaction or attention to fill that void from an outside source was never going to prove to be useful.

So as you said it, without a trace of doubt, without Ken’s face appearing in your mind, there was a new conviction.

You were going to put yourself first.

And with that everything stopped instantly. The chaos died and with it your skates began to glow. A bright pink that filled you with a warmth that felt good.

As you began to feel like everything was finally piecing itself together, it only began to fall apart. There was a tear in the dark floor that made it look like you were tearing out of your barbie box. The tear grew and grew until it swallowed you, causing you to fall through.

A choir began to sing around you, as you felt the grip on gravity on your legs.

Never let them know where you are from

Never go in search of your Barbie form

Keep this and you can return when you wish

But beware the tempt of reality, for it will change you

The more you crave to be real, the more it will sever your ties to your world.

All it takes is a wish to come back

If you choose to come back

All it takes is a wish to come back

Will you choose to come back?

With that, as the voices faded, you felt solid ground beneath your feet and immediately, a jarring sound of car horn.

“Oy get off the road!”, a man shouted  from with a yellow car that had taxi written on top of it.

As your eyes began to adjust to this unknown world, buildings stretching up all the way up into the sky, strong smells swirling around you, you panicked to skate away when a pair of strong headlights blinded you. You scrambled to the sidewalk and bumped into another woman, who only turned to shout at you.

You backed into an empty alley way as you watched the crowd pass by.

Feeling scared but strangely, feeling set free too.

---

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[honestsycrets]

Amor y Respeto II: Corazón [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

chapter I: mi alma

❛ pairing | miguel o’hara x reader

❛ type | continuation of one shot.

❛ summary | you're trying to forget miguel with hobie's help on the field. but miguel isn't quite ready to let go.

❛ tags | jealousy, latina reader, slightly nsfw (only nudity), spanish is not translated, some mention of blood and wounds, violence, some paranoia, miguel is not pleased, an attempt was made at british slang, some creative liberties.

❛ sy’s notes | gif credit to aehanse. a little reference to gilgamesh with a golden bull in this chapter because i wanted a simple anomaly and for some reason a golden bull just makes me giggle a bit.

Miguel only left Nueva York for very important reasons. Very important reasons usually entailed a little stress relief at the end of a very stressful day. Very important reasons like your gentle fingertips running over his sweaty chest. Very important reasons like your plush lips wrapped around his--

“No chance,” Lyla chittered in his ear. “There’s the whole ‘I don’t love you’ thing. And that kiss?” 

A headache was brewing: everything twinkled, glistened, and refracted light.

“I was there, Lyla. Could do without the reminder.” 

“Really because--” 

“I can fix it,” Miguel growled, clawing past the tall buildings rife with beautiful flowers. It was your favorite time of year. The perfect time to go to the balcony and wait for him to follow behind, to pick off the yellow pollen that dusted his burnt umber hair.

When he finally breached your plant-filled balcony, the window was open despite his warnings to keep it closed. You loved the light and drew the blinds open day by day to let in the bright light of the day. In contrast, he could have done without the bright light streaming in during his early morning visits. That wasn’t wholly the issue. The issue was anyone who wanted to watch you sleep in your love-rustled sheets could. He could.

Miguel’s hands hooked on his slender hips. He glanced at the offensive presence of a singular powdery pink rose in a vividly graffitied cup that he hadn’t given you. He didn't need to guess to know who had. As your shorthair cat trotted into your bedroom, he realized that the rest of the apartment was empty. He wouldn’t be mewing at him if you were singing in the kitchen and making cookies that he shouldn’t eat. It's little, you would guilt him and squish a bite-sized morsel in his mouth. 

Miguel jerked his head to the side and threw a look at Lyla. She threw up her hands in response. They came to the same conclusion. “The roof?” 

There wasn't a worse time to climb the last few floors of your apartment. Light battered his senses as the sun crested past the rooftops of your city and emitted pastel crystal hues. Soon, the night would fall on your busy city and cloak it in darkness. In the darkness, problems always arose.

"Se dice-- never mind, it's a pastellio," you brushed off the small chunks of crystal that nipped at your forearms and picked a chunk up off of a paper-thin napkin. The crumbly remnants held their own memories. Memories of your fingers sealing pastry dough over a cool picadillo, arguing about the quality of HQ cafeteria’s empanadas all by yourself despite knowing that he liked them. They didn’t taste the same lately.

“Tastes like a meat pie,” Hobie waggled a crusty corner. “Must be a meat pie.” 

You brought the rim of an opaque brown glass bottle to your lips. The malt drink coursed down your throat slowly, leaving your throat cool and refreshed. Just the way you wanted to feel after a long day of work. “If that’s a meat pie, this is beer.” 

Hobie-- Miguel sneered. There had some alternative, impure reason he was here. Maybe it was to piss him off, to distract him from the work really at hand. If that was it, he lamented, he was doing a good job. Why else would he be here?

“A kiddy beer,” he flicked over one of his empty beer bottles. “Listen. You coming to see the concert?” 

“Whose?” 

“Mines, who else?” he answered. “Gwen’ll be there.” 

“It’s not really my scene, Hobie,” you said. “Don't you think I’m a bit old for that sort of thing?” 

“Old?” Hobie chirped after you. You swayed under the force of his playful punch to your shoulder and returned one to his willowy arm. Your eyes turned back to the crystalized sun dipping beneath the horizon. He sucked his tongue against the roof of his tongue. “Letting that muppet shoot his cum in ya is the only thing that’s gonna make you old. Complicit. You wanna be complicit?” 

“¡Fo! Gross, stop,” you dropped your drink to the side and flopped back onto the unforgiving concrete roof. But he had a point, your palm migrated over your belly. His spunk was probably still wiggling around in your stomach. Miguel simpered in the shadows.

“You never see these autocrats for who they are," he lamented.

“It has nothing to do with… Hobie. Hobie, my love isn’t politic--”

“Everything is political.” 

“Hobie, I take care of him-- them,” you motioned to your city, glittering in the fading sunlight. “For love and laughter. That’s what we all deserve. Love and laughter. Miguel wants it too, he’s just,” Incapable or unwilling, you suppressed. “Complicated.” 

“Complicated,” Hobie spat out as though it offended him. “It ain't complicated to me. He don’t love you. Half the time he don’t even like you.” 

“But I love him.” 

“His love? It ain’t enough.” 

“It matters to me.” 

A low growl emanated from his deep chest. It was enough to cause your heads to wrack around in his direction. Miguel steeled his body against the wall he dangled from, shielded in the dark crystally shadows of a mural.

“Should we--” you stared at the wall, eyes narrowing.

Fuck.

“Ain’t nothing to be worried about. Probably a rat— a big rat,” Hobie lurched over your body. His long and lanky arms caged your body beneath him. It was a universe apart from Miguel’s well-corded arms, broad and strong. Arms that, at the moment, Miguel used not to spring off the wall.

“It’s his muscles.”

“¡Ay cállate! Why is it always his muscles?” You ruptured into laughter and reached up to push him away by his thick wicks. You crawled out from underneath Hobie and stretched out your arms behind your back. Tension unwound from Miguel with an exhale of stale air from his lungs.

“You got a type,” Hobie lazed his elbow over his knee. 

“You don’t know any of my exes, Hobie,” you swept up your trash and covered your head with your rebozo-like cowl. At that exact moment, your watch blared. “And you ain’t know mine, either.”

“Vente, Corazón. I have a call.”

Corazón?

“Can’t handle it yourself?” Hobie hopped up and adjusted his guitar, slouching off his shoulder. 

“Just because I can, doesn't mean I have to,” you took a step to the edge of the rooftop. You turned your hands up. “C'mon, I’ll even make you cookies.” 

Make him cookies. You would change out of your blood-smattered outfit into a little slip to make Hobie, a man that you knew he had a very poor opinion of, cookies. A man that was reckless in life, reckless in HQ, and would not take orders that didn’t benefit his perception of the world. His breathing hitched, heavy and sharp, to keep his rage in check. If you respected him, you would never invite Hobie anywhere near your apartment. Especially not at night. What were you thinking? 

“That your way of keeping me for the night?” Hobie asked. “Think I’ll get lucky?”

“Is it working?” 

You looked Hobie over once, starting at his boots and ending at Hobie’s pierced lip. Your lips budded in a terrible smile. A look that Miguel did not like, not at all. You turned and stepped off the building, out of his field of vision. Hobie followed soon after.

The sun faded far past the horizon, cloaking Miguel in solitary indigo darkness. His fingers teased the ochre face of his watch-- he had things to do.

You didn’t need backup. 

You crawled out of the rubble of one of your favorite flower shops. Bits of lavender crystal embedded in your arm drew blood down your arm. As of late, it felt as though you couldn’t do anything right. Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life and fixed the amateur mistakes you were making day by day without mentioning your incompetence. He was good to you.

This time was different. You recognized this anomaly from another time, but not another place. It was here, at the intersection of Cereza and Trini, that months ago that Miguel and you-- No, you did not need backup. You didn’t need him.

The thick, muscular leg of the stupid bull stormed by. The thing was comically obnoxious. Just as obnoxious as the ache in your chest every morning when you woke up alone in your bed with Miguel visiting… not even once in the past few days. You wondered if he even thought of you.

“Miss Spider lady, are you okay?” a little girl with thick brown pom-pom puff hair and the warmest caramel eyes asked. Usually, she sold singular flowers at the cash register of her parent’s shop. You hated to think what hardship would come to them because of your inadequacy. If you could control your emotions, as Miguel rang true, this never would have happened.

“Si, si, Zaniah,” your head spun with the pain radiating from your side. You broke something, and of course, it wasn’t healing. You blamed him. Your feet stumbled forward in a line. You didn’t want to see the headlines of this one. Most spiders dealt with villains worth the name, villains with prowess. You? A shiny fucking bull from heaven. “No te preocupes, go, go.” 

“Mami, mami!” the little girl shrieked and bolted, her flowy purple cape dissipated as she disappeared into the back. You felt bad for the mother that would have to deal with that for the next few days as you broke into a run, flexing your wrist for webbing. 

If you could just-- trip the damn thing. Then, somehow, with enough time you could… oh, you didn’t know, bind its legs? Or bind its legs first then tip? But where would you even tip without casualties? Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lure it to the river-- but that was on the outskirts of town. You were running out of time. You had to deal with it. Had to. What would that little girl think? What would Miguel think? 

“You sure you don’t need backup?” Lyla asked, her gilded frame bending at the waist. "Because you look like you need backup."

“Si,” you hissed. “I am sure, Lyla. I don’t need anyone. And I especially don't need Miguel. I got this.” 

Your red boots connected with its fuzzy back. Its great, golden chain skid across the concrete floor, emitting an awful hissing noise. You seized its collar and jammed your heels into its back to try and force the thing to heel. It wasn’t. Despite your strength, you weren’t strong enough to do it on your own. The pressure on the side of your rib cage was becoming immense. Breathing became a chore. 

“No you don’t,” she sang. 

It was moments later that the bull howled pitifully. It slid on its side, crunching old cars and taking out rusty street lamps under its thick muscle. Despite digging your heels in, the damn thing whirled you off like a children’s dreidel. The force of the impact thrust you off its back and into a rusty tow truck. The pain burned low in your back. Hobie: to the rescue again. At some point, you were going to have to give him something better than cookies.

“Get up,” rasped your backup, cloaked in vast dark blue and red. Not Hobie, then. Your hazy eyes were playing tricks on you. You heaved out rattly breaths as you obeyed, or tried to obey the dumb big man in your life.

It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Heavy and hard, your limbs fought the attempt to move. Before you could complain a minute further about how fucking infuriating it was to have him run to your aid, your world eclipsed into the darkness. 

You woke up with a pulsing headache and the very unwelcome sight of Jess. Through her yellowy glasses, you recognized her colorful kaleidoscope of emotions: annoyance, derision, and eventually… relief. It wasn’t the infirmary. The bed was too comfortable for that. You quickly realized that you were in his room with nothing but one of his annoying tech bandages mummified to your chest. You knew from that alone that you were in for it-- if not for her face becoming increasingly more stoic. They should have been siblings.

“You needed backup,” her arms encircled her belly. “Didn’t you?” 

Your eyes fell to the soft sheets that tickled your skin. Breathing was still hard, harder with the anxiety of knowing a lecture was headed your way. You couldn’t lie to Jess. Tears pricked your cheeks and you tried to steel your heart from them.

It was impossible. His room overwhelmed you: from his rich scent that perfumed the sheets you laid on to the air you breathed. He was close by. That alone was more stress than you could handle.

“I know Jess. I needed backup. Pero, the anomaly, it was-- I thought I could handle it.” 

“Pero nothing,” she held a gloved hand up. “Girl, I don’t need your excuses.” 

“But I’ve called Hobie too much this week.” 

“Is Hobie the only one here? You could have called me. Or-- and I’m just being crazy here. Miguel? Your man?” she rolled her head toward the back of the room. She must not have heard. You followed her gaze to where he stood, his uniform flopped unceremoniously about his waist. Your heart strummed and skipped a beat. With her words, Miguel turned his eyes up from the wound at his waist-- to your eyes. They pierced your heart in the darkness. He would have come.

“You know what? I’ll just leave you two alone.” 

“No, no, no Jess, por favor--” She left without another word. Punishment in its own right. Your hand approached your chest, covering your cleavage from his sight. His hand swayed over the pad to lock the door shut. 

Your head dropped back on his flat pillows. Whether it was the bundles of discomfort at his presence or actual shots of pain, the awkward silence was growing increasingly too much for you to handle. He brought you here, into his bed, for a reason you couldn’t understand. You both were done. Finished. Miguel didn’t seem to think so.

“You act as if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Maybe, he had seen you naked before. He had no right to anymore. You opened your eyes to look at him, noting the strong scent of sweat permeating his skin and the warm sheen that dusted his chest. You had your increased senses to thank for that. You swallowed air in forceful gulps and burrowed painful shockwaves in your chest. If nothing else, you could at least swallow pain with some honor.

Everything that Miguel did had a purpose. You couldn’t help but eye the way his thumbs looped around his waistband to draw his pants lower, freeing his swarthy skin from indigo fabric. Your eyes fell on his flaccid cock that sat on a tuffet of his thick black pubic hair, chased the curve sight of his shapely ass, and settled on his strong rideable thighs. It was the least egregious sight to stare at. He slipped the suit over his shoulder, raising his brown brows in unison. 

“And as if you haven’t seen me naked before, either.” 

“It… it’s been a while.” Your eyes darted past his figure to the door. You were sure it was locked.

"Has it really?" Miguel threw out as he disappeared into his bathroom. For a moment, you debated running. Your heart ached with the knowledge that he would just come to find you. He left knowing that you would not disobey him because, after everything, you respected his wishes. 

What Miguel's wishes were today was up for debate. The only thing you were sure of was the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets, the steam that emanated from the bath, and his lofty figure swaying in the distance. The warm certainty that filled your body knowing that he would come back to bed. Because that’s what Miguel did when you were hurt: he paid attention. 

He came back into the room nude, ruffling his hair with a fluffy towel. You couldn’t convince yourself to act as if you were asleep. His presence shattered any illusion of ignoring him, even with the expressionless way he considered you tonight. He was utterly intolerable.

After an eternity boxed in with your thoughts, reality came as Miguel, a smooth wall of muscle, clambered into the bed. The bed shifted under Miguel’s weight. Just as you predicted, the warmth of his chest was against your slight back and his large palm was flat against your stomach. 

You broke up with him for a reason, you broke up with him for a reason— Miguel didn’t seem to care about those delicate details. He caressed your neck with his nose. His lips dragged over your unmarked skin. As certain as a clock was to click, your body became slick with anticipation. You knew he could tell. 

You were weak. Weak out there. Weak in here. Weak everywhere.

“You smell… different.”

“Miguel, por favor,” you breathed, thready and thin. “It’s just Hobie.”

“Hobie?” he growled. Miguel’s hand encompassed the large space of your belly. Your legs shifted as Miguel held you a little firmer. You expected his hand to move lower, but he didn’t.

“Hm. Why would it be Hobie?” he asked, his voice dripping dangerously low. “Is there something I should know, Corazón?”

“No, I, no,” you stammered. He knew. Though you said the words, they felt cut off from what you were saying. As though the threat of his rejection took over all the confidence in your world. "You were watching?"

You turned in his arms to face him. His forehead creased in disapproval. You opted to press your forehead against his, running your nose against his, breath puffing his lips.

"You thought I wouldn't," he said. His eyes spun with sharpness, searching your face for evidence of the truth. As though he were asking if you’d been unfaithful despite the breakup. Your face was always pitifully easy to read. Even with the breakup, he could read your intentions as clearly as the words on his lab screens.

"I didn't think you cared."

You were used to a Miguel who crept into your bedside window, slunk into your bed, and woke you up from your slumber with the weight of his body between your legs. A Miguel that only had time for brief moments of pleasure and successful results. This Miguel was different.

"You know I do."

And there it was. He pushed himself free of the bed in search of pants. You watched him pull them over his ass before he flopped into the one chair in the middle of his room, head in his hand. Lyla, he rumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite hear. Your senses were dull, something you equated to the exhaustion and sleepiness that threatened to overtake you at any given moment. 

“Something is different. And it isn’t him,” he sneered. 

You missed the warmth of his body against yours. The ginger way he touched you just moments before. After days of being without his touch, you missed the simple things. Like the way he touched you. The way he focused on you alone in a room full of others. You hated yourself for craving it. You made a choice. Why couldn’t you stick with it? 

“What did I do wrong now?” Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth. It was the very cottonmouth you feared you would have when telling Miguel about Gwen and Miles. Your mind was too hazy to rationalize what you possibly could have done this time. Miguel would always be an impenetrable castle, one you could admire from afar but never enter. 

“Nothing!” He snapped. You recoiled from the shrill in his voice. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, easing his tone down to a murmur. He threw you a small, bittersweet glance. Almost a smile. “Muñeca, you did nothing wrong. Get some rest.” 

He sat there a moment longer. A frown grew on his lips as Miguel stood up and walked toward the door. After one, two, then three attempts to open the door, his closed fist slammed a hole into the siding. It finally whirled open and allowed him to exit. It left you in the sea of silence that was his dark room. You never liked waking up in his room alone. It was bare, too bare, for anyone to live in. You worried that his mind was just like that.

“Lyla? Lyla, I want to go home.” 

It was a long time-- too long-- before she answered. “You should sleep.” 

And though she advised that, it was a restless night.

[enviedear]

you're in the wind, i'm in the water ⟶ anakin skywalker

description ⌙ having to flee your home to be under the watch of the jedi knight anakin skywalker, you attempt to form some semblance of happiness, despite his cold demeanor. pairing ⌙ anakin x female princess!reader warnings ⌙ mentions of food and eating, but i think that's all. lmk if i missed anything. word count ⌙ 2.5k

canon means little to me lmao, so read as you wish, but i'm in my anakin renaissance so pls feel free to flood my inbox with any and all things him <3

— join my taglist | request | masterlist

he was strange. that was the word you decided upon. this jedi knight sent from coruscant to protect you.

he watched you, so intently, and you tried to chalk it up to the protection order— but no guard under you before had been so keen on your every breath. so you sat, silent in the study of the safehouse, watching the small fire begin to ember out from its setting and trying to ignore his blue eyes cast down at you.

anakin, that's what jedi obi-wan had referred to him as. when you first heard it, you told him it was pretty. his simple thank you reply seemed fitting at the time, but now, you're almost sure that you must have offended him.

the room settled into a stillness that felt almost oppressive as anakin's eyes bore into you. you left your thoughts of him to refocus on the burning wood, only to stare down at a now lifeless fire. it was as if the flames had mirrored your own sense of isolation, flickering out, leaving you in the dark.

reaching out for more firewood, your hand is abruptly halted in mid-air. you look up to find anakin standing right in front of you, his eyes darkened by the dim light. his voice was low and laced with a hint of frustration. "it's nighttime, princess."

he releases his hold over you, fueled by the force, and you let out a sigh. "i'm sorry. time just slipped my mind. you must be tired."

he responds with a curt huff, his emotions hidden beneath the veneer of his jedi training. you gather your belongings from the study and follow him in silence to your room. this had become a ritual ever since the protection order had been enforced.

for months you have been walking on what seemed to be a very thin glass when around this strange man.

back on your home planet, you were surrounded by loving handmaidens who attended to your every need, engaging in heartfelt conversations, and showering you with affection. but on this mostly deserted planet in the far reaches of the outer rim, anakin was your sole companion. he didn't dote on you, he rarely engaged in conversation, and there was an undeniable absence of warmth in his demeanor.

you missed home desperately—your land, your people, your family. you harbored a deep resentment for the enemies who had invaded and devastated your world. they had stolen everything from you, and in this unfamiliar place, you felt anything but safe.

as the two of you approached your door, you hung back, allowing anakin to check the surroundings before you entered. "it's safe," he announced, still avoiding eye contact. "princess."

you settle onto your bed, now surrounded by your books from the study. anakin's gaze fixed on your collection. you ventured, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you like to borrow some?"

his eyebrows knit together slightly, prompting you to continue. "some of my books? i've noticed you looking at them often."

finally, his eyes met yours. "i'm okay," he replies, and then turns to leave. just as his hand found the doorknob, he adds, "i'll come to fetch you in the morning."

you didn't respond, simply watching him exit and swiftly locking the door behind him. anakin was a puzzle you couldn't decipher. none of your parents' guards had ever acted this way. formality, you were accustom, but this level of rigid apprehension was an entirely new experience.

when you'd first arrived, you had tried to establish some sort of friendship. you were adept at navigating social interactions, having been by your parents' side for political matters since the age of fifteen. you had dealt with all kinds of people—brash, rude, insincere, and kind. but this jedi, anakin, he was unlike anyone you'd ever encountered.

he never strayed far from your side, except for when he slept, yet he managed to disappear into the shadows of any room. even outside, during the few hours he allowed you to venture out, you could feel his presence, his watchful eyes bearing down on you. it was as though you were a gilded prisoner, trapped with a hungry beast waiting for you to falter.

as you drifted into sleep, uneasy thoughts flooded your mind, pushing you into a restless slumber.

the next morning, anakin knocks at your door. he has a signature four knock, with the last being far louder than the others. you assume it's for safety but he's never let you in on the security protocol.

you've been awake for a few minutes and have already dressed, but you take your time before opening your door for him. it was the small things, small rebellions, that you enacted in a diminutive display of mutiny.

"princess." his greeting feels icy cold, despite the adherence to common decorum.

"jedi," you reply, your voice unexpectedly fiery. you had yet to openly express your displeasure with him, but the way his lips twitch for a fraction of a second made you want to challenge him further.

you'd endure anything if it meant he'd stop being so inscrutable.

anakin motions for you to lead the way, and you do, heading toward the small dining room. the table is set with two bowls of porridge placed on opposite sides. it was the same every morning. initially, you had attempted to convince him to let you prepare the food, but he'd stubbornly resisted. perhaps he thought this was the way you were used to, or maybe it was a method of control in his mind. whatever it be, his enforcement of such behavior had grown tiresome.

you found your seat and tried to ignore the weight of his gaze as you ate. the food was plain, but you wouldn't dare complain. perhaps out of fear, maybe a lingering threat that he might lash out, although he never had. but you could feel it—your fear.

anakin was an enigma, unlike any jedi or man you had ever met. despite being only a year apart in age—you, freshly twenty, and he, a young man of twenty-one—he seemed worlds apart from anyone you'd encountered before.

you were nearly finished with your meal when he interrupted your thoughts. "we're running low on food and supplies. you'll accompany me to the market today."

his voice was soft, in stark contrast to his nature. "the market?" your question feels foolish as it escapes your lips, but you don't care. you have no knowledge of any nearby market, and the prospect of venturing out into a new environment excited you.

"have you never heard of it?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.

breaking eye contact, you reply, "i have. i was simply unaware there was one here. how far is the walk?"

he inhaled deeply before responding, "about an hour. wear comfortable footwear."

nodding, you decide not to push the conversation further, though curiosity gnawed at you. the prospect of escaping the confines of the safehouse, even for a short while, held a certain allure, and perhaps it was an opportunity to uncover more about your mysterious protector.

anakin leads the way to the bustling market, with a palpable silence the entire walk. the vibrant activity at the market is a stark contrast to the quiet routine of the safehouse. alien vendors peddle their wares, hawking exotic spices and colorful fabrics, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you take in the vibrant scene.

as you navigate through the crowded market, anakin's eyes remain vigilant, scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. it's clear that he takes his role as your protector seriously. you, however, are drawn to the colorful array of stalls and the alien dialects that fill the air. the market feels alive, and for a brief moment, you forget about the weight of your circumstances.

approaching a stall adorned with an assortment of intricate jewelry, you spot a vendor, an older twi'lek woman, tending to her display. her vibrant head-tails sway gracefully as she arranges her wares.

without hesitation, you engage her in conversation, switching to her native language. "kassurra," you say, your voice laced with warmth.

the twi'lek woman looks up, her eyes widening in surprise as she meets your gaze. "kassurra, may ril help vashna," she responds, a smile tugging at her lips.

anakin, standing a few paces away, seems taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor and language. his eyes dart between you and the vendor, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in his expression.

you and the vendor continue to converse, discussing the intricacies of her jewelry and the stories behind each piece. anakin remains on alert, his protective instincts never wavering, but there's a shift in the way he watches you. for the first time, you think he may see a different side of the princess he's been tasked with safeguarding, one that isn't confined by the walls of the safehouse.

anakin watches you, silently observing this unexpected connection that has sparked between you and a stranger in a distant corner of the galaxy.

as your conversation ends, the woman offers you a small pendant with a colorful gemstone, its significance tied to a story of resilience. you're touched by her gesture and purchase the pendant, a tangible reminder of this unexpected encounter.

as you and anakin bid farewell to her and make your way through the market once more, the atmosphere feels different. the air is charged with a newfound sense of connection, and anakin's once rigid demeanor seems to have softened, if only slightly.

you continue to explore the market, and encounter a group of children playing a lively game in a nearby alley. their laughter infectious, and you couldn't resist joining in. anakin watched as you played a simple game of catch with them, your laughter echoing through the alleyways. it was a rare moment, being able to let your guard down and enjoy a moment of pure joy.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, signaling the approaching end of your visit to the market, you and anakin head back to the safehouse. the journey back was less tense than the trip there, but there was a subtle change in the air. anakin's demeanor, though still guarded, had softened ever so slightly.

back at the safehouse, you settled in the dining room, some fruits you had purchased now adorning the table. anakin, still wearing his jedi stoicism, finally speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"you seemed… different at the market," he says, his eyes fixed on you.

you glance at him, a faint smile playing on your lips. "it's easy to forget the weight of my title when i'm surrounded by such vibrant life. i felt like a person, not just a princess."

anakin nods slowly, as if processing your words. "you should be cautious, though. we can't afford to let our guard down."

you understand his concern, but the brief respite had given you a glimpse of the world outside the safehouse, and you yearned for more. "i know, anakin. but there's more to life than just surviving. sometimes, we have to remember what we're fighting for, and whom."

anakin's gaze holds your own for a moment, and then he nods, a hint of understanding in his eyes. it was a small, almost imperceptible step, but it was a step toward bridging the gap.

the days that followed your visit to the market saw a small transformation in your interactions with anakin. the connection that had sparked between you and the vendor, and the brief moment of joy shared with the children, had left an indelible mark on you. you couldn't help but yearn for more moments like those, moments that reminded you of the vibrant world beyond the safehouse's walls.

anakin, too, seemed affected by the outing. while he remained vigilant in his duty to protect you, there was a new delicacy in his gaze, a flicker of warmth that occasionally surfaced. it was as though the walls he had built around himself were starting to crumble, revealing a person beneath the jedi facade.

one evening, as you both sit in the study, he suprises you by reaching for one of the books on the shelf, a collection of poems from your homeworld. he flips through its pages, his fingers tracing the elegant script.

"these are from your planet, aren't they?" he asks, voice gentle.

you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. "yes, they're poems from my people. would you like me to read one for you?"

anakin hesitates for a moment before nodding. "i'd like that."

as you begin to read one of the poems, the words flow from your lips with ease, carrying the essence of something you miss so dearly. anakin listens intently, his eyes fixed on you, and when you finish, he speaks softly, "it's beautiful, the way your people express themselves."

"thank you anakin, i... miss them very much." and encouraged by his interest, you continue to share more.

he listens, and for that you thank him silently. being able to share a part of you feels freeing, and you wonder at how easily the dynamic had shifted.

but after hours of reading, sharing stories, and talking, openly for once, you can't help but to yawn. anakin notices, "you're tired, we should head to bed, princess."

you want to oppose but the sleep settling into you prohibits the response, "i guess so, but i enjoyed this. i," you try to search for the right words, "i like being able to talk to you like this. i was scared you had grown a resentment for me."

he gives you a curious look, so you continue, "i thought that you may not like me, or rather, this arrangement."

he sighs, "no, it's not that. i just, was scared to say or do the wrong thing. i'm not often left alone with beautiful princesses."

your heart skips a beat at his words. anakin's admission catches you off guard, and you can't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through you.

with a shy smile, you respond, "i appreciate your honesty, anakin. and for the record, you've never said anything that made me resent this arrangement. in fact, i find our conversations… quite refreshing."

anakin's blue eyes meet yours, and you see a softness in them that you hadn't witnessed before. as though the walls that had separated you were crumbling further.

as you both walk to your rooms to retire for the night, there's a newfound sense of closeness between you. he escorts and checks your room, as he always does, but this time, there's a different energy in the air. his protectiveness is still there, but it's accompanied by a tenderness that wasn't evident before.

entering your room, you face him. "thank you, anakin, for today. for everything."

he nods, a small smile gracing his lips. "you're welcome, princess. sleep well."

"you as well." and you do truly mean it.

as you lay in bed, you can't help but reflect on how much has changed between you and the knight. what started as so tense, transformed into something more genuine.

as sleep gradually overtakes you, you can't help but wonder where this journey will lead. the future is uncertain and frightening, but one thing is clear— you're no longer alone in the safehouse, no longer silently watched. you have something sweet to hold onto, and that, for now, is more than enough.

[midnightexpressproductions]

Demo (TBA)

Content warnings (This IF has situations and themes that might be distressing to others): mentions of death, depictions of bodily harm, body horror, gore, anxiety/panic attacks, stressful scenes, claustrophobia, violence, car crashes, amaxophobia, astraphobia, use of weapons (guns, knives, etc.), explicit language, and sexual content though this is optional.

Dark smoke curls all around you, the black ash clogging up your nose and choking your throat. The sound of sirens is muffled in your ears. The base of your skull feels like it's split in two, a sharp pain blooming on the back of your head. Your eyesight is blurry but you can just make out the body writhing around on the ground.

You're hurt and blood seeps out of your wounds. You should be dead. You shouldn't be able to move, but here you are struggling to breathe. The acrid air in your lungs burns. Your vision tinges red. You can't help but watch as the body across the street from you sits up, rotten eyes fixed on your own.

It's jaw unhinges as it lets out an unearthly scream. It's hungry– no not hungry, ravenous– filthy drool dripping down it's chin. In a flash it descends upon you.

Starving.

Yearning for something to eat.

Desperate.

Yearning for food.

Famished.

Yearning to tear your flesh apart.

------------------------------------------------------------------

In your senior year of high school, you remain the sole survivor of a brutal car crash that kills your father. Grief stricken, your mother decides that it's time for a fresh start. You soon find yourself shipped away to the other side of the country in bustling New York City; a completely different world from your previous rural Louisiana town.

A fish out of water, you're content with staying in the comfort of your own bedroom, living out your life in complete solitude. However, fate has other plans and after four years of isolation, you are forced to leave your room and venture into the outside world.

You just had to pick the day when everything goes to shit, didn't you?

The dead have begun to rise, violent and angry and desperately ravenous for human flesh. Finding yourself separated from your mom, you team up with an unlikely group of survivors as you begin your journey across a ruined New York in hopes of safe haven.

Who knows what might happen when the dead wake?

Play as male, female or non binary; you have the chance to set your own pronouns.

Play as straight, gay, lesbian, bi/pansexual, demi/asexual or aromantic.

Customize your MC's personality and appearance.

Choose from five RO's (plus a sixth RO who you'll meet at the end of the game) to romance or befriend. Or betray.

Build up your stats.

Make alliances or enemies with rival gangs.

Steal a cop car.

Adopt some dogs.

Your choices matter. You and other characters from the main cast can die.

Javier Delgado | he/him | 23 | ISTJ-T | Puerto Rican American

Javier has short, dark brown hair that curls just slightly around the edges. His down turned eyes are light brown and speckled with green. His golden tawny skin is lightly smattered with freckles across his cheeks. Javier is 5'10" and he has a thin, lanky build which makes him seem much taller than he really is. A pair of plastic-rimmed, light green glasses sit on his hooked nose. He says that they're just for reading but in truth, his eyesight just really sucks. His thick eyebrows are almost constantly furrowed, causing people to think that he’s always upset. Javier favors more muted, earthy toned colors in what he wears. He's not particularly fashionable however, wearing whatever is clean and comfortable.

Carmen Bautista | she/her | 23 | ESFJ-A | Filipina/Brazilian American

Carmen has long, wavy hair that stops just below her shoulder blades. Her hair is dark brown turning into a blonde ombre the further down it goes. She normally keeps it pulled back into a low bun or a French braid. Her wide eyes are almond shaped and dark brown. Carmen’s olive skin is completely flawless. Her full lips seem to be set in a perpetual smile, showing off the deep set dimples on her cheeks. She is 5'9" and has a plump, hourglass figure. She can normally be found wearing jewelry. However, Carmen doesn't wear rings, saying that she prefers to keep her hands free of any obstructions. She does have her nails painted a bubblegum pink though. Carmen favors pastel colors and soft clothing that she can easily move around in.

Max Friedman | she/they | 22 | ISTP-A | Jewish American

Max has wildly curly, dark copper hair that reaches just below their ears which is choppy since they cut it themself. Their eyes are a pale stormy gray and droopy, giving them a sleepy appearance. However, paired with her thin lips that seem to be constantly set into a scowl, it only highlights Max's less than friendly demeanor. Max has pale skin with warm undertones. She's covered from head to toe in freckles. They have a small cut on the right side of their upper lip. Their nose is slightly crooked, having broken it from a skateboarding accident. She's the shortest out of the group (not including Gwen), standing at 5'2" and she has a lithe build though the baggy clothes she wears make it seem that Max is skinnier than she really is. They carry around a skateboard wherever they go. 

Eun-Woo Park | he/him | 20 | ESTP-T | South Korean

Eun-Woo has short, pencil-straight black hair that's been styled into an undercut, his bangs left longer than the rest. Thick eyelashes rim his monolid eyes. The irises are a brown so dark that they're almost black. Eun-Woo's milk white skin is spotted with moles, the most notable being the two that sit underneath his left eye. His hands are covered with old calluses and jagged scars mar his knuckles. Eun-Woo stands at 5'7" and has a sinewy, toned build. His ears are double pierced and he has a helix piercing on his right ear. Eun-Woo's nails are painted black. He likes wearing black clothing however, he always wears a red SSG Landers cap along with a NY Yankees letterman jacket.

Derek Campbell | he/they | 24 | ISFP-A | African American/Caucasian

Derek has dark brown, shoulder length dreads. The ends are dyed a light honey brown though he's constantly changing the color. He normally keeps his dreads tied back in a loose ponytail or bun. Their full lips seem to always be set in a sweet smile. Their dark brown eyes are round and wide set, emphasizing their friendly demeanor. Light stubble softens their sharp jaw. Derek has light brown skin, having two scars on his face: one that runs down the corner of his left eyebrow and the other running across the bridge of his nose. He's the tallest of the whole group, standing at 6'5" and his chubby, thick-set build seems imposing at first. They're really just a big marshmallow though. Derek seems to favor more athletic wear, though they'll wear whatever feels comfortable to them. They like bright colors, especially pink and yellow.

Elijah/Elizabeth Watts | he/him or she/her | 26 | ENTJ-A | African American

Eli has dark umber skin with cool undertones. Jagged, old scars crisscross all over their body. They have a full sleeve tattoo of a snake surrounded by lotus flowers on their left arm. F!Eli has long, tightly coiled black hair which she normally keeps tied back into a low ponytail or a braided bun. M!Eli has short, tightly coiled black hair that's cut into a fade, his coils either left free or tied back into cornrows. Even if they're not upset, Eli's eyes seem to be constantly narrowed, the warm honey brown irises standing out against their dark skin. Their full lips hide a gap-toothed smile. Both M!Eli and F!Eli stand at 6'0". They have a toned, muscular build. They wear no makeup or jewelry, other than the dog tags that they keep hidden underneath their clothes.

Gwen Nguyen | she/her | 10 | Vietnamese American

Gwen has warm toned, honey skin and wide, black eyes. Her chubby cheeks are dusted red, only further highlighting her innocent appearance. However, the sneaky rude gestures and hidden eye rolls show that she's much more cheeky than she looks. Gwen likes to wear anything soft and pastel colored. She always has her favorite pink bear plushie with her. Gwen is also deaf, so she wears a pair of sparkly hearing aids. Other than using sign language, she also communicates with a small whiteboard that she keeps tucked away in a pastel yellow backpack.

Pa and Ma Hazel:

Pa is a 10 year old German shepherd and Ma Hazel is an 11 year old cocker spaniel. Pa is short coated and his fur is a dark sable color with his underside being a honey brown. His muzzle is also lightly streaked through with gray. Ma Hazel is medium coated and her fur is a brown roan. Her muzzle is also slightly graying and her nose is spotted. In lieu of collars, Pa wears a forest green bandana around his neck. Ma Hazel doesn't wear a collar at all.

[louveshin]

AHHH😭 in that case may i request for a yandere shin please 🙏🏻

your savior | shin hati x reader

summary. with shin’s new experience of love and devotion for you, her true nature of destruction and chaos erupts when you are ripped away from her.

content warnings. mdni! yandere!shin x reader, dark fic!, suggestive themes but no smut, nothing gory but there’s some blood, also shin kills a few(?) people *awkward thumbs up*

note. it’s a little short but i hope u like it! and thank u for requesting :)

Shin didn’t expect to love you as much as she did. The first time she saw you, you were newly recruited by her master, thinking that Shin could use an extra pair of hands on her ship during solo missions—a replacement for that battered astromech droid she found that keeps malfunctioning on board. In the beginning, talking to you—well, besides giving you orders—was a rare thing to happen while you were there. But even so, you talked to her anyway, even when it seemed like she couldn’t care less. But, she liked the sound of your voice. It soothed her ways she couldn’t even imagine. And despite everything, Shin is observant. She’s been watching you ever since she saw you. She knows your routine, your habits, everything… she fell in love with how you acted when you thought nobody was looking. You were just beautiful. And you could feel it sometimes; a pair of eyes lingering on you when you were rewiring the control panel, when you were cooking, even while you were… changing.

After spending more of her time alone with you, controlling herself around you had gotten incredibly hard. It had gotten especially difficult when you had to patch up a cut on her cheek—a mistake in battle that she did not take lightly. Shin remained tense as you carefully applied a bacta patch, your eyes fixed on the process as her jaw clenched. Something flutters in Shin’s stomach as the pad of your delicate fingers carefully touches her face—something warm, something… scary. Her intense eyes shift downward to the sight of your lips, your bottom lip seeping with blood after your own fight against the people that attacked you, and they couldn’t look any more appetizing to her. Shin’s thoughts are fogged up with this devoted insanity, as you worked quickly to patch her up. The irresistible desire to press her lips against yours muddles her brain. You were just so pretty, so caring, so… bright. Unlike the way she could ever be. She wanted you to be like this with her forever. She needed you to.

But when that dreadful time came when you had been taken captive by pirates—those goddamn pirates in the Outer Rim Territories—her calm and composed demeanor shattered as her emotions surged to the surface. It was rage, like she had never experienced before; her hands were clenched and trembling in anger, and her eyes blazed with fury. With unmatched skill and relentless determination, Shin slashed and cut through every single pirate in her path, leaving a trail of destruction and chaos in her wake. She spared no one, her lightsaber cutting down anyone who dared to stand in her way.

And your heart leaped as soon as Shin came into sight. But, as Shin drew nearer, your happiness gave way to a growing unease, the air thick with tension and the metallic scent of blood.

There, before you, Shin's silhouette was framed by the eerie, pulsating glow of her lightsaber, and the flickering lights only made her blink in and out of existence, almost as if she were a phantom haunting the corridor. Bodies lay scattered on the floor, lifeless and motionless; a grim testament to the power that she had just unleashed. The soft hum of the lightsaber filled the corridor, a haunting melody that echoed in the cold, lifeless space. And her face… Shin’s face was splattered with the blood of the pirates she had mercilessly dispatched. And instead of the warm, comforting expression you had hoped for, you were met with a twisted smirk on her face. It was a triumphant, cocky grin that seemed out of place in the midst of this chaos.

"Shin…" you breathed out, shifting under her gaze with your hands tied behind your back to some old, rusty pipe against the wall. "W-What did you do?"

"I killed them for you," she said, the hum of her lightsaber ringing in your ears, and she smiled.

“You… you killed…” You looked at the fallen bodies behind her, "A-All of them?"

"I did it for you. To save you."

You shivered, flinching at every sudden noise, at every thud of her footsteps, and at every sudden beep of the pirate’s base alarm. It was a terrifying reminder of the darkness that lurked within Shin, and you couldn't help but wonder what this power had cost.

With Shin’s brain muddled with the fantasies of having you with her again, her heart fluttered at the sight of you so disheveled, so rugged, and so… vulnerable. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. So gorgeous. In that moment, she thought of you as a weak, fragile, and precious thing that needed protection—that you needed her. She wanted to kiss you, even take you on the floor of this goddamn pirate lair if you’d let her. And even with the fear in your eyes, you still looked so, so beautiful. It didn’t matter to her anymore if you looked at her with love or hate; she just needed you to look at her. Because for you… she’d burn the galaxies.

— navigation!

[milla-frenchy]

Firestarter (SMBU part 3)

4k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller x Veracruz Chapt summary: a guard you don't know comes to visit you Warnings: 18+ mdni. dark. dubcon (captivity, threats), dirty talk, dvp, gangbang, degradation, knife play, praise kink, oral (f/f, m receiving), violence, a little blood, ass play, light rimming, slapping, spanking, unprotected piv, creampies Writer chose not to use all warnings. If you need to know before you read, DM me a/n: Thank you Kate @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the ideas, and for beta-ing me as always 💕🫶🫶 The Prodigy - Firestarter | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist

Main masterlist | Part 2

****************

“That’s it baby. Fuck her with your tongue” Joel said, as he was thrusting into you from behind.

He had been fucking both of you since the beginning of the evening, and you had already cum several times. Sometimes he would pause to watch you two kiss, touch, lick each other, while he was lazily jerking off, before starting to fuck one of you again.

She was lying in front of you, her thighs open and her pussy dripping, and you were never tired of pleasuring her, whether with your fingers or your tongue.

She was holding her breasts and moaning. Sometimes her fingers would squeeze your hair, before going back to caress her breasts. You knew she was playing with her body and mind, making her orgasm approach and then slow it down, and you couldn't help but smile as your tongue delved into her as deep as possible. You lapped at her hole, from which little wetness flowed, you were so greedy to lick everything from her. 

Sometimes you lingered on her clit with the tip of your tongue. And sometimes you lapped all the way to her ass, lingering on her tight ring. Very quickly, you had wanted to lick and caress every inch of her body, and you couldn't get enough of it.

You often slept together, and regularly Joel, Tommy or one of the guards would wake you up at night. Her presence reassured you, and made things easier. Although overall, everything was going “well”. According to Joel's rules.

Joel’s hands were clinging to your hips and you heard him moan louder and louder. He slid his hand up to your clit and stroked you.

“I want you to come. Both of you.”

You slipped two fingers into her pussy, fingering her the way she liked it. Night after night, you got to know her body, her sensitive places, the ones she didn't react to. You learnt how to do it, wanting to please her when both of you had sex.

Your lips hovered over her clit before you sucked it gently. Then your tongue played with it, swirling it under your tip. Without realizing it, you were applying the same rhythm with your tongue that Joel was applying with his fingers, on your clit.

You did your best to still concentrate and make her cum. She was moaning, and said “Fuck me with your tongue, honey.”

You stuck your tongue in her pussy and she started to caress her clit with her fingers. You looked at them, the way they moved, and you were captivated by her gestures.

You felt her pussy tighten around your fingers.

“I’m gonna come baby… I… Fuck… fuck yeah.”

You came to lap at her clit, mixing your tongue with her fingers, then, one last time, you pushed your tongue into her pussy to drink it all, taking everything from her. Her spasms became less frequent and you let your pleasure rise. Two minutes later you were cuming under Joel's fingers, your eyes still fixed on her pussy and on her stomach which rose and fell to the rhythm of her breathing.

“Lie down,” Joel said, pulling out of you.

You lay down and couldn't help but turn towards her and kiss her before rolling back onto your back. Joel looked at both of you, standing against the bed and jerking off quickly, hand clenching his shaft tightly. He looked from one to the other, and came, his jaw clenched, the ropes of cum hitting your two bodies.

Before leaving, he told her that the next evening she was going to the usual house, and that she would meet Tommy, two other guards, and him there.

The next evening, after she left, you heard the door open and then footsteps on the stairs. A guard you didn't know came into your room. Thirties, brown hair, very light beard. Piercing gaze. He was wearing tactical clothes.

“I’m Veracruz. Ever heard of me?”

“No I haven’t. Should I have?”

He didn’t answer.

You stared at each other without saying another word for a few moments before he asked, “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

Ok, you weren't in a 5 stars brothel, but his attitude was different from what you had dealt with so far.

“Um…Joel isn’t with you?”

He pointed his arm at the bedroom door, turning to face it, as if your stupid question required no other answer.

You got down on your knees. He moved closer until his crotch was a few inches from your face and with a nod he motioned you to unbutton it. You did as he wanted and pulled his cock out of his pants. It was thick, long. Two big veins on the same side.

“Why are you staring? Suck it.”

Given his attitude, there was no point in taking your time, you dropped your saliva on his cock and started to suck him, while jerking him off with one hand.

Quickly, he placed his hands on either side of your head and fucked your mouth. Not so much that you would choke on his cock, but quite roughly. You looked up at him, trying to catch his eyes, but his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed. Suddenly he stopped his movement, holding you against him and pushing his cock further into your throat.

“Keep it in”, he said, his eyes on you this time.

He released you and you coughed, trying to catch your breath while holding your throat. When you glanced up, he was smiling, looking at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked him.

“You’re just a slut who’s here to get fucked, did you forget or something?”

“Not… not like that. There are rules.”

“Mmmm sure. And deep throats aren’t allowed?”

“Yes… yes they are. Of course but…”

“Okay so stop whining, and take it once again. Stick out your tongue.”

You obeyed, and he placed the tip of his cock on your tongue, enjoying its movements towards your mouth, then pulling it back. He leaned down and spat on his cock, stopping to watch his saliva drip into your mouth.

Despite his unpleasant demeanour, you found him hot.

“Get on all fours, now.”

You got yourself on your hands and knees. Veracruz did pulled your panties aside and spread the folds of your pussy.

“Are you acting prude while you're wet como una puta?”

Before you had time to respond, you heard metal brush against fabric. By the time you were wondering if he was holding a knife, he grabbed your panties with one hand and cut the fabric with the blade.

You tried to get up but he grabbed your hip. “It’s just a knife, baby. I like things a little… spicy.” He threw the knife on the bed.

​He grabbed his cock in his hand, rubbing the tip against your folds, soaking it with your wetness. He stroked his cock several times and you felt that you were getting even wetter, with his head rubbing your clit. Finally, he rested his cock against your entrance and pushed. He grunted as he thrusted into you. He placed both his hands on your hips and began to fuck you.

“That’s good. So good. Your pussy’s good.”

He was fucking you thoroughly, and you forgot about the knife.

He was giving it to you so well, actually, that you accompanied his movements and began to fuck yourself on his cock, stretching your ass back to hit against his hips.

“What a slut… you like it, huh?”

You moaned without responding, and he pulled your hair.

“Fucking answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Yes! Yes I like it.”

He released you and started fucking you harder.

“Fuck! Such a whore. You take it good, damn.”

His attitude and the way he fucked you made you melt. You couldn't help but moan, louder and louder. You liked his roughness, the way he spoke to you.

Each stroke threw you forward, and with each stroke he squeezed your hips again so that you impaled yourself on his cock, and you followed his movements with pleasure.

He pulled out of you, and commanded, “Turn around now. On your back."

You did as he said, and he jerked off, looking at you, kneeling on the bed, before grabbing the knife again.

“Let’s play a little bit, okay?”

"What do you mean?" You tried to keep your voice steady.

“Just to test your sensitivity.”

He lay on top of you and placed the blade against your throat. You tensed up and he said “Stop fidgeting. I know the rules. Do you think I'd do something to piss Joel off?”

You relaxed. He was right. He was probably just a little more “playful” than the other guards.

He ran the blade from one side of your throat to the other, before moving up to one of your ears, without taking his eyes off you. He smiled when your hairs stood up.

He then slid the blade down to one of your breasts and then your nipple. You looked at him, transfixed, when he put his mouth on your nipple and sucked it. He was doing it well and you moaned. He stood up and picked up his knife again, placed it at your sternum, and slid the blade down. He placed the tip of the blade on your navel, cutting you slightly. A bead of blood appeared and he leaned down to lick it off.

“Sorry, baby,” he said.

His behavior excited you and the adrenaline drove you crazy. You squirmed on the bed, waiting for what was going to happen next.

“You want my cock?”

You nodded.

“Ask for it then, slut.”

“Give me your cock. Fuck me.”

He smiled and said “Joel found a damn bitch….”

He placed the knife on the nightstand, took off his shirt, keeping his pants on, and lay on top of you, pushing his cock into your pussy in one stroke.

“Fuck!”, you said.

He licked your skin from your collarbone and your ear, before coming to bite on your earlobe.

He whispered in your ear, “Fuck… it feels good to fuck a pussy that doesn’t smell like piss.”

You froze, and he grabbed his gun from the back of his pants. He pointed it at your temple.

“Who… who are you?”

“I’m one of the guards of the shithouse. And I'm tired of always fucking the same two bitches. So from time to time, I'm gonna come here and fuck you. And you’re not gonna say anything to Joel, or anyone, because I guarantee if you do I’ll open your smile from one ear to the other.”

You watched him telling you this, as he thrusted in you again. He put the gun down and gripped your throat with his hand, stopping his hips movement.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You nodded and he grabbed your chin.

“Fuckin answer me.”

“Yes! Yes I understand.”

“That’s better. Now I’m gonna fuck you, like I wanna fuck you. I'm afraid I'm not gonna be very gentle. And you're gonna shut up, okay? I like when bitches scream, but unfortunately I can't attract too much attention with you. You understand?"

“Yes,” you replied.

"Good."

He thrusted into you suddenly and you screamed.

“You’re cute,” he said, chuckling.

His cock was sinking into you and despite the situation you couldn't help but feel pleasure. He knew exactly how to fuck you. He asked you to get on all fours again, plunged into you, and spat on your ass, dragging saliva with his thumb.

“No! No please…”

“Mmmm…  It’s sad, but I can't fuck your ass today. I don't have time for that and I can’t hurt you. Now come on, you remember what Joel wants, don't you? He wants you to cum. I don’t really care, but we have to respect the rules, right?”

He pressed a little more on your ass with his thumb, and you had a hard time relaxing.

“I won't stop until you cum. So if you want it to end, you know what to do.”

You bent your elbows to rest on your forearms, and you began rubbing yourself. He slowed his movements and went less deeply. You focused on your body, and he felt your pussy starting to contract and said “what a slut. You’re gonna cum on my cock after I threatened you with my gun 5 minutes ago.”

Your pussy clenched, and you came hearing his words.

“Yeah… just like that. What a fucking whore. It’d be cool if you joined the shithouse. You know that's what's gonna happen if Joel finds out you let me fuck you, right?”

You froze when you heard him.

He kept pounding you, his cock going deep with each stroke.

“Maybe he'll beat the shit out of me as an example, but you'll end up covered in piss and cum from morning to night.”

“No please… don’t tell him…”

He grabbed one of your breasts and pulled you up against him, continuing to fuck you as harder as ever.

“Then I guess you’ll have to let me fuck you, each time I want to, and how I want to.” He released your breast and pushed you forward again, forcing you to support yourself on your hands. He slammed into you with one hard thrust, bottoming out, and staying buried inside you for a few moments.

He grabbed the gun and slid its barrel down your spine, up to your ass. He pressed the muzzle against your ring, his left hand still clinging to your hip.

“I’m gonna cum… fuck…”

He pulled out and spread your ass cheeks, placing his tip against your ass. He jerked off and came against your ring, and said “mmmmm…next time.”

He stood up and you collapsed against the mattress.

Before leaving, he told you “Remember, if you don’t want to end up in the shithouse, you keep your mouth shut.”

That night, you slept with the sheets tight against you, hoping no one would come. Nobody came. You didn't know what to do after what he told you. The next day at breakfast, she tried to talk to you but you had difficulty maintaining the conversation. A few days passed without anyone coming. You and her slept together a few times, but you didn’t fuck. Several times she looked at you thoughtfully, but you said nothing to her.

A guard came to pick you up a week later, to take you to the house. Joel and Tommy were there when you arrived.

“It’s been a while baby, I missed you”, Tommy said, holding you close against him, his hands gripping your ass. You felt better, his body against yours. You were used to him, to Joel, and their familiar presence reassured you.

“We’ll wait for him before we start, Tommy,” Joel said.

“Yeah I know, I know. But I wanna fuck that pretty pussy, man”, he said smiling and spanking you lightly before releasing you.

The door opened, and Veracruz entered. You turned to Joel, trying to keep your surprise to yourself.

“Who… who is it?”

“A shithouse guard. He's getting a little impatient there. He’s a good guard, so I figure he deserves a little reward.”

“Are you and Tommy gonna stay?”

"Yeah. Veracruz is the nervous type. I don’t want him to damage you”, he laughed.

Veracruz smiled as he looked at you and you felt panic overcome you. You were afraid that Joel would find out what happened and send you to the shithouse.

“Are you ok? You look a little pale”, Veracruz smirked.

Joel looked at you and asked if you were okay.

"Yes, yes. Sorry. I didn’t know the shithouse guards could… fuck us.”

“You have to give rewards from time to time, baby. Now go get undressed and lie down.”

You began to undress, trying to stop the anxiety that kept building. You felt your heart beating quickly. Way too fast. You were afraid that Joel and Tommy would realize something was wrong, that you already knew Veracruz.

You felt the tears welling up and you narrowed your eyes to stop them, as you unbuttoned your blouse then took off your pants. You grabbed the hem of your panties but Veracruz said “no, keep them. Go lie down.”

You realized that your eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke, and you forced yourself to look at him before going to lay down on the bed. Veracruz followed you and took out his knife. The same he had already used on you. You looked at Joel, scared. He just nodded, looking at you.

“Spread your thighs”, Veracruz ordered.

He dragged the blade against the hem of your panties, just below your belly button, and yanked upwards, tearing the fabric in one swipe. Your thighs clenched, as your stomach shook with fear. Not scared that he would hurt you per se. Scared that you could no longer contain yourself, no longer pretend that it was the first time you met him. And then what Joel would do with you.

He slid the blade under the fabric again, and tore it a second time, almost all the way to your clit.

“Ok that’s enough. Put the knife aside now”, Joel said.

“Sure boss”, he replied. 

He grabbed your panties and tore them in half with his hands, then he unbuttoned his pants and spat into his hand. He jerked off quickly and laid on top of you, thrusting in without waiting for you to get used to his girth. You held back a cry as you bit your lip, your fingers clenching on his biceps, trying in vain to stop him from sinking too far into you.

“Ah, fuck, that’s good.” 

He started to thrust into you, his cock hitting your cervix painfully. 

“This pussy’s not too stretched. Not like the ones I usually fuck. We really damaged those”, he laughed.

“This pussy’s perfect, man. And she’s such a slut, always ready to take it, right baby?” said Tommy, who had come closer. He didn't wait for you to respond, and slipped his cock straight into your mouth.

“Yeah, just like that. You’re a natural born sucker baby.”

Veracruz was leaning on his forearms, thrusting into you and watching Tommy’s cock slip in and out of your mouth.

“Yeah, such a whore, ready to take any cock, in any hole. Aren’t ya?”

You didn’t answer, trying to concentrate on Tommy’s member. Trying to think about something else rather than Veracruz’s length deep in your core. Tommy placed his hand on your cheek and said: “that’s it baby, keep going. You’re so good for my cock. Love your mouth. You know I do, right?”

You nodded and let Tommy impose his rhythm, he was using your mouth the way you liked it, and his praise was turning you on, as always. You were getting wetter and wetter, and the sounds of Veracruz's cock in your pussy couldn’t hide it.

“I wanna assfuck her, Joel”, said Veracruz, and you came back to reality, suddenly pulling your mouth away from Tommy. Your legs tightened beneath Veracruz without you being able to help it, and you looked at Joel, then at Tommy. You couldn’t make out what Joel was thinking, but Tommy was clearly surprised by your reaction. He turned to his brother, while Veracruz continued to pound you.

“Nah. Wanna try something new with her”, said Joel. “Get on all fours, and ride Tommy.”

Veracruz pulled out and stood up from the bed, visibly annoyed, as Tommy slid under you. Joel unzipped his pants, and you started to relax again. You have been used to both of them for several weeks now, and even though they were rough, your brain and body have accepted it.

Tommy grabbed his cock with one hand and rubbed it against your folds. He pressed his dick against your entrance, put his hands on your hips and thrusted into you. Veracruz started jerking off while looking at you. You threw your head back at the sensations of Tommy’s cock spreading your pussy, as you impaled yourself on it. You loved feeling it inside you, feeling that cock you knew well by now. Joel moved closer to the bed and Tommy grabbed your neck. “Suck my brother’s cock,” he said, as he turned your face towards Joel’s dick. You took it into your mouth, letting him sink in. He growled and pinched one of your nipples. You looked up at Joel as he fucked your mouth, one hand resting on the back of your neck. Tommy lay almost motionless, and you rolled your hips on his cock.

“That’s it baby. Fuck yourself on my dick. You’re so pretty, your mouth full of my brother’s cock.” Once again, Tommy’s praise was turning you on, and you tilted your pelvis slightly to rub your clit against his lower abdomen while continuing to suck Joel.

“You’re gonna make yourself cum baby? Look at that, Tommy, she’s using your cock like a perfect whore.”

“She always does, huh? Such a good slut for these cocks. And this time, she has three real cocks for her, capable of fucking her for more than 2 minutes.” You moaned, hearing them talking about you as if you weren’t even there. Both brothers laughed thinking about the guard who always had fucked you badly, while Veracruz continued to jerk off. You felt your arousal rising even higher and you kept grinding yourself against Tommy. Your moans were increasing, and Joel withdrew from your mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Come on my brother’s cock. You’re doing great. Soak his dick with your juice.”

As you were cuming, you let yourself go forward on Tommy's torso, and Joel knelt behind you, positioning himself at your entrance, against Tommy's cock already buried inside your cunt. You felt him push and you said “Joel no, that’s too much!” Tommy held you against him, preventing you from turning around.

“Shut up, you’re drippin’. You’re gonna take us both, relax”, said Joel.

He placed his hand on your back to press you completely against Tommy’s torso and he thrusted in slowly, gripping his cock firmly with his hand. You felt your pussy spreading apart around this second cock sinking inside you, tears in the corners of your eyes.

“You’re gonna do it, baby. You’re the best slut we’ve ever fucked,” Tommy said in your ear. You didn't know if he said that because he thought so, or because he knew it would make it less painful. Joel had his eyes fixed on his cock, as he thrusted into you, inch by inch.

​“Breath baby… It’s ok. Oh fuck that’s good”, added Tommy.

Joel reached all the way down and grabbed your hips, holding you completely down on those two cocks deep inside you. The feeling was so strong that you wondered if you were going to pass out. You felt your eyes roll and Tommy slapped you lightly so you could come to your senses.

“Hey, baby, what’s goin’ on? These two fat cocks are too much for you?” He and Joel laughed and Veracruz added “damn…you’re tearing that bitch apart.”

Joel started to pull back and you groaned. Tommy grabbed your chin to force you to look at him.

“The best pussy I’ve ever fucked. And we fucked a lot of them.”

Joel thrusted in again, faster. He said “Veracruz, come get your dick sucked.” Veracruz immediately moved closer, pushing his cock into your mouth.

Both brothers were thrusting into you, Tommy moving slowly, while Joel held back less and less. You were trying to suck Veracruz off as best you could, considering your pussy being spread wide by the two members.

“Ready to take my place Veracruz?" asked Joel. "Ain’t gonna last, that pussy’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard. I’m gonna fill her up.”

“Who are you askin’, man”, the guard replied.

Joel grunted, thrusting in 3, 4 more times, and he came deep inside your pussy, his fingers digging into your hips. He finally pulled out and you moaned. You felt the mattress rise, with Joel's weight off, then lowering again as Veracruz settled in behind you. He grabbed your neck with one hand, and guided his cock into your pussy with his other hand in one go, helped by Joel's cum leaking out.

“Can’t believe you can fuck that bitch day and night”, said Veracruz, pounding in you.

“I’m gonna cum baby. I’m gonna shoot my cum in your fuckin’ pussy,” said Tommy.

He turned your head to the side, to make you look at Joel, and said “every time I fuck you, it makes me even harder when I think about the cocks your holes can take.” He gave you a hard hip thrust, and came deep in your pussy, mixing his cum with Joel's.

Veracruz pulled back slightly to let Tommy get up off the bed, before thrusting in again, roughly this time.

Joel said “Tommy, let’s go.”

You shouted “NO!”, afraid that Veracruz might hurt you, without Joel and Tommy.

He grabbed your hips, as all three stopped when they heard you.

“Why don’t you want to stay with him?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m not comfortable with the idea of being alone with him… He doesn’t have the same rules.”

"Sure he does know the rules well. Right, Veracruz?”

“Of course, Joel.”

“See? No problem.”

“Please, Joel…” you pleaded. Veracruz started fucking you again, oblivious to your worry, and Joel and Tommy left, leaving the door open.

“My turn, bitch.”

He spanked you, and sank in, his hand fixed on your neck, forcing you to keep your ass up. Grunting at each thrust.

“You’re so full of cum, fuck, it turns me on.”

He grabbed his knife and pressed the blade to your throat, still pounding you hard.

“What are you gonna do, now that you’re alone with me?”

“You can’t hurt me. They’d know.”

“Yeah, but I can still have a little fun with you.”

He thrusted in you slower, and moved the knife lightly from under your chin to your ear.

“I can’t wait to come fuck you in your bed.”

You were paralyzed, already afraid of the moment he would come into your bedroom. Afraid that Joel would  know.

He dropped his knife, pulled your hair, and added, “I really can’t wait to fuck your ass, baby.”

You heard his breathing speed up, until he came deep inside your pussy as well. He spanked you one last time, pulled out and buttoned his pants. Before leaving, he whispered in your ear, “See you next time, baby. I can’t wait.”

You got dressed, trying not to cry. 

When you came out of the house a few minutes later, all the guards were in the yard. Veracruz had blood running down his chin, and Joel was standing in front of him.

He shouted “shithouse guards, fuck shithouse girls. Unless I allow them to fuck one of the other girls.”

He pulled a revolver from the back of his pants, pressed the muzzle to the guard’s forehead and shot Veracruz with no warning. You covered your mouth with your hand, horrified, scared of what would happen to you.

“At least, he got laid before he took that bullet”, he laughed, looking at Tommy.

“My women, my rules!”

The guards left, and Tommy told you to go back to your bedroom.

A few minutes later, Joel joined you and leant against the door.

You murmured, “How did you know?”

“Your girlfriend said you didn’t wanna fuck her. That you seemed sad and tense, she was worried. I talked to some guys. Someone said Veracruz was smug, a few days ago. Your attitude earlier confirmed what happened.”

“Why did you let him fuck me today?”

“To teach you a lesson. You should’ve told me.”

“When I understood he was one of those guys, he said…” you stopped talking.

“What did he say?”

“He said if you knew I had let him fuck me, you’d put me in the shithouse as a punishment.”

“Well obviously that was bullshit. Don’t ever hide something from me anymore. Got it?”

You nodded.

“This pussy’s mine. I allow some guys to fuck it, but it’s mine. All the pussies are mine, here. If a guy doesn’t respect that, he’s dead.”

He left.

Part 4

**********************

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[oh-its-souichi]

Brainrot

Astarion x reader

Astarion cast his eyes towards you. You were sitting around the fire next to wyll, a cup in your hand. The firelight reflected up into your face and lit it up, warming it, so much so he noticed your cheeks faintly flushed with warmth. That or it was the product of the wine that sloshed around in your cup. A half smile danced on his lips, and he turned his head to rid of it. Here he was casting googly eyes at a girl he had only bedded... once... only once. He brought his eyes back to the fire and wondered what you saw when you looked at him. Did you ever sneak glances at him? And if you did what did you see.

He hadnt seen his reflection in ages.

With a sigh, he rose from his spot around the fire, making his way to his tent. Unbenounced to him, your eyes flicked to him, a troubled look forming on your face.

At his tent, he snatched his hand mirror and held it at eye level. At first, he felt nervous to look into the reflective surface because what if his face did appear. Would he recognize himself or recoil in horror at the monster he became. He studied gold metal that made up the handle for a second being inpressed with the craftsmanship of the filigree engraved into the handle and the metal incasing the mirror. He wondered if the craftsman thought, maybe even cackled at the joke of a situation Astarion found himself in. His eternal life robbed him of his early memories, each year thing grew fuzzier and fuzzier until they were gone. Becoming more and more detached. What good would looking in a mirror do anyway if he were to catch a glimpse of himself would he recognize it anyway?

He brought his eyes up to look and at first only saw the glow of the underdark, the mushrooms and algea, and plants he didn't know, producing a plethora of colors. Lighting up the haunting purple darkness that surrounded. Though it was muggy and squishy and overall gastly smelling. There was something very beautiful about the underdark. He felt his mind wandering back to you and wondered if if you lived in a place like this before the parasite and once this was all over if thays where you would return... for from everything.. far from him.

He cast his eyes down for a moment but brought them back up, and when he did, there you were. You stood in the reflection of the mirror. He felt his face soften, and he couldn't help but think you looked so beautiful here. The pink glow of a plant behind you shone behind you, illuminating your grey-purple skin tone. Creating a pink rim around the tip of your white hair. "What are you doing with that?" You asked a curious look on your face. He sighed and dropped the mirror, turning to face you. "Fixing my hair, of course," he teased, but his voice lacked the enthusiasm required to convice you he felt okay about things. "Do you miss it?" You asked and he furrowed his brow. "Miss what darling?"

You motioned to the mirror with your hand. "Looking at yourself," He frowned. "Of course I do! I was very beautiful, I am still very beautiful. It would be nice to induge in some petty vanity from time to time!" He exclaimed, waving the mirror around. You squinted at him, seeming to look very closely. Your multicolored eyes peered into him, discected him alive. "What is it?" he said, turning his head aside, bashful. He felt pitiful. "Im just looking," you said with a pleased look on your face. You seemed to have no intention of telling him your thoughts, and felt perfectly comfortable keeping the words and opinions, conceptions, and judgments swirling around in your head. He motioned his arms at you dramatically "and?"

"I think you're very beautiful." You stated, and his heart was set to ease. He relaxed his shoulders, and a sly smile formed on his face. "Is that right, what else do you see?"

"Your smile, I like its sharpness"

"...and what else?"

Your hair and how it curls and waves." You reached out and ran your fingers through his hair. A pleasurable chil ran down his spine, and he closed his eyes to the sensation. Your touch was so gentle for a second that he thought this must be what it's like to be cherished. When you pulled your hand away, he was brought down from his high. "Not very fair of you, darling," he purred, and you smiled. "Im going to head back to my tent, I hope you sleep well." He stared at you in disbelief, after all that you were just going to walk away? You stepped to leave but he grabbed your hand. "Now, wait a second, you aren't going anywhere." He said "why walk the mighty distance to your tent when I have a perfectly good one here" he motioned "plus you cant just make me feel like that and walk away" his tone failed him again and what was meant to be a seductive tone came out more a s a cry for help.

You looked thoughtfully at him and then nodded. "I guess you're right, thebothers are-" You turned your head, glancing back at Wyll and Karlach, who sat half dazed by the fire. The others quiet in their tent. "-mostly asleep." Astarion brought his hand up to your chin and held it. "I dont care about the others, now come," he said, sliding his hand down and interlocking it to yours. You hesitated and he wanted to sob "I need to get my thi-" He cut you off shaking his head "no need, I have everything, borrow my shirt, my damn toothbrush, whatever you'd like." He said, and you laughed, a sound so sweet. "My gods, would you like to carry me in as well, take off my shoes and undress -" you stumbled on your words, and he eyed you dangerously. Mischief lurking. "You needent even ask, of course I do," he purred, easily scooping you up into his arms. He carried you into his tent and closed the flap door behind him. Gently, he set you down on the cushion of his bed and fascinated the string at the bottom of the door down. "Astarion I was-" you started but he shushed you, turning around. He slipped off his own boots then knelt down in front of you and started on yours. You cheeks burned pink and you quickly turned your head, avoiding his gaze. "Stubborn girl" he chuckled, discarding the left and then the right. "I can do it myself, you know" you said. He crawled up your legs and brought his lips inches from yours. "I know you can" he said. A smile came onto your face and you wrapped your arms around him neck, gently pressing his lips to yours. He deeped the kiss, his hands easily undoing your pants, pulling them down without ever losing you. You kicked them off the rest of the way. He reached for your shirt, looking down as he lifted the fabric off of you but froze. His eyes widened, the right side of your abdomine was splotted with large, deep blue bruises. They ran down onto your legs. You had a gash across your ribs as well that looked like it had been hastily stitched up.. He hadnt realized you had been battered from the scuffle earlier. "The hells you madwomen why didnt you say anything." He scolded, and you shrugged. "I took a potion after the fight, it will all be healed after I sleep"

He shook his head, running his fingers along the bruises. "No, this won't heal entirely in that time, and you are quite aware of that." He sighed. He took the remainder of your clothes off and then started to strip himself of his own. He gently nudged you to lay down. He took his place next to you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "We can still-"

"No, I won't ravage you when you're... well already quite ravaged, " he mummbled, burying his face in your hair. You laughed, and he felt himself smiling. A wave of exhaustion crashing over him. You closed your eyes and nestled against his chest, your finger making their way back to his hair raking gently across his scalp. Goosebumps rose all over hia body and he sighed, feeding off of the sensation, a blessing. He kissed your forehead, falling into affection, so naturally, it scared him. Why was it so wasy with you. He was scheduled to die via mindflayer parasite. Why was he perfectly happy right now? Why did he thank those tentically bastards for infecting him and bringing him to you? He slid his arm underneath your neck and rested his hand on the back of your head, pressing you closer to him. "What color were your eyes before" you asked him and he opened his eyes staring the the wall of the tent. "I dont remember," he sighed. "My old life bled out from me a long time ago." You tipped your head back and looked into your eyes. One way crimson red and the other amynethest purple. He had never noticed that before. In fact he never noticed what color your eyes were at all. It burned him to hold you so close but have you be so far away, so unknown at the same time. "You've kept yourself pretty well hidden away. What wounds do you keep?" He asked and you xhuckled. "Is that your wau of asking me to tell you about myself?"

"Well I couldnt just come out and say yhay darling, its not in my character" he groaned, his voice getting more gravely with his in reaing yearn for sleep. You sighed. "I grew up in Zirnakaynin, in the middle class partion of the city" Astarion hummed, listening to your words "its chaos down there, so Ive heard" you nodded against his chest. "Yes, its beautiful." He chuckled at your and rolled onto his sid, enttrapping you in both of his arms. "Drow were the boogeyman when we were young. The rumors of bloodbaths and cities of unregulated choas and a the pitiful deaths of outsiders. Real divas of the elven world. When my mother first informed me of them i practically shi-" his words caught in his throat and echoed in his skull, the word "mother" reverberating off the bone. A wink of a memory passed him by, to quick for him to grasp it. Since when did he remember a mother.

He sat in silence and seeming to pick up on his sudden distress you picked the conversation back up. "I moved to Menzoberranzan into my adolescence and stayed. It didn't compare to my home, but I found peace with it. My life has been good." You said simply, and it almost annoyed him, your lack of misery. "The city of spiders," he said, and you nodded, silent. "You swore in then, I presume, that does explain your eye." He looked down at you and saw your one red eye almost glowing up at him. In the tales he had head, Lolth marked her followers with red glowing eyes, intimidation in the dark of whatever. "Yes, that would be the time" you said. He felt a little shift in your tone. He seemed to have hit a sore spot, maybe you were miserable after all.

In the silence that grew, the two of you found sleep nestled in one another. The morning came, and when he awoke you were gone.

When he emerged from his tent, he almost felt disappointed not to see the sun. It was still the glowing, muggy darkness. Having been in the sun so much recently, he forgot how much he missed it. He missed waking up to warmth on his face. This region wasn't overly chilly. Where you camped now was actually oddly warm, grossely warm. Like walking into a bathroom filled with the steam of someone elses bathwater.

He shivered at the thought, then pictured walking into you in a warm bath and figured it not to be so bad. Astarion took a few steps forward but stopped when he noticed Wyll walking his way with a puzzled look on his face. Astarion walked towards him, meeting him halfway. "I'd say by the look on your face you request my attention," astarion smiled, boastful. "Yes, actually," Wyll said, coming to a halt. "I haven't seen y/n this morning, I have matters to discuss with her," he said. Astarions face dropped. Like a baloon being popped, he deflaited. Suspicious of what Wyll would want with you. He was handsome and noble, he saw you two talking but not in the way you talked with Astarion. Did he plan to snatch you up? "Why?" Astarion said, tone flat. Wyll cocked his eyebrow at him. "I assure you it's only business," he said, putting his hands up. A half smile came to his face. "I seem to have struck a cord. I didn't realize the two of you were involved, an interesting choice on her part." He chuckled

Astarion scoffed, "you've not only struck a cord you've broken the whole damn string!" He said storming off, once he got a ways away he stopped and turned pointing. "And we are not involved! Officially, at least." He hollered and continued his storming. Wyll held his hands up a smile on his face. "An interesting time this is," he chuckled and continued on his search.

You were at the far side of camp bathing in the dark waters of a small waterfall nearby. Hot springs were not common up top, so you were happy to be able to bath in warm water. You currently laid back with your head on a mushroom. You would cross the lake today to fight, so you wanted to enjoy this time alone to recuperate. You out some warm wet moss over your eyes and let yourself get lost in the warmth of the water. So lost you didn't hear the pair of feet co.ing towards you. Two pairs of feet, to be exact...

Astarion was the first to waltz up, and he felt like his prayers had been answered. You were submerged in the dark water but he could see enough to know you had no clothes on. Thoigh he could do without the pond scum you have covering your eyes. "My fancy running into you here" he said, sauntering over. You shot up. Ripping the green shit off of your face. You stood before him fully exposed, and he could only grin. "You sacred me, wreched man!" You exclaimed. You wet hair clung to your soulders, some of it still hanging down your back. You looked delectable. He dry throb hit his throat and he was overcome with the urge to taste you. "May I jo-" suddenly a twig snapped behind him and he turned his head.

Wyll walked up the trail, his eyes widening when he laid eyes on you. "Hey, wyll," you said, and he turned away. "Pardon my intrusion. I didn't think of the state you would be in." Astarion scoffed. "Dont 'hey Wyll' him, get in the water, women! Gods, you are not for everyone to see!"

You smirked and sunk slowly into the water, eyeing Wyll, who remained looking away. "I only came to see what the plan for today is." He said. You sighed and swum back to your original place. " I figured everyone could rest a bit more, pack, and then go. I dont know exactly what we are up against, but if they are foreigners in the underground, without allies, they've got to be the slightest bit tough."

Wyll nodded "I think that sounds fine. Im sorry to interrupt your lovers quarrel." You stuck your hand out. "Think nothing of it, we arent involved."

Wyll nodded and started to walk away hear Astarion shout "Officially, at least." Wyll chuckled, disappearing into camp. Astarion crossed his arms and dramatically turned his head in the opposite direction of you. You eyes him blankly. "Astarion, what is it?" You said having an inkling what his dilemma was. "You are so quick to shoot us down in front of Wyll. So maybe it's him, you fancy." He said keenly, aware he did the same things mere minutes before. You hesitated on your words. You hadnt mean to hurt his feeling. You just thought it best to keep your perso al business out of the parties. "I-" You started to say but spotted a small smile threatening to form on his lips. "You tyrant, Astarion, get in the water with me and stop with your brooding." you said, words targeted. At this point you knew how to ease him, compliments and affection, love and understanding. Astarion looked to you with a wicked smile. "Now that's what I like to hear, my darling" he started to strip off his clothes and submerge himself into the water. At first, he shivered at the warmth, and then his face relaxed. "This damn parasite has made my skin so sensitive, I can feel everything, I could barely feel a thing before." He muttered, cozying himself up to you.

...

The fight hadn't gone well for you. Well, the party won against Nere but YOU personally were tore up, Karlach as well. You had expected that from a fellow Drow and part of you felt prideful, your kind still held up their scary reputation.

You laid on the stone floor of the temple blood oozing out of your side just below the platform where the others were. You had been trapped in a corner away from the rest with Nere, and he shoved you off the side with a bash to your head. You figured he lured you, but you didn't know. You didn't think the others knew where you were, though, but you didn't pay that mind. sweat dripping from your forehead. Lava surrounded the platform, and with all the blood you lost and the suffocating heat you felt so painfully ill. You turned your head to the side and could hear Gale dumping something and his magic whirl. "She should be alright. We need to get to camp and leave before any more show up." He said. "Wait.." he muttered."Astarion wheres Y/N"

"She right..." Astarion said, and you thought you heard concern in his voice. "Where the hells is she?" he said. You couldn't hear Karlach and wondered if she was alright. Your thought faded away as the heat below you zapped away your strength. You were so hot, the metal of your armor stated to burn your skin, and you wished you could strip yourself of it. A small groan left your lips. Despite the pain, your eyes started to grow heavy, and your vision blurred. You wondered if you were just extremely tired or dying. You didn't expect to die in a battle so small, so unimportant to the grand scheme of things. To die in pursuit of finding a cure so you sidnt die by the parasite lodged in your brain. A small smile came to your lips, and you giggled. "How funny," you said. Your eyes closed and from above you - you thought you heard someone speaking. "You can't die damn you," they seemed to be saying, but the voice was too far away.

...

Astarion and Gale dragged the both of you back the camp. Karlach was just alright, unconcious and still bleeding, but her survival was pretty much guaranteed. You, on the other hand, the others weren't so sure.

Your legs and right arm were badly burned. You had severe trauma to the back of your head. The healing spells Gale and Shadowheart cast on you seemed to be lightening the load of the injuries, so they were still so bad. Astarion stood outside of your tent biting his fingernails. A disgusting habit, he seemed to have picked up from the stress. It sickened him but here he was gnawing and gnawing. He spit one of his fingernails out and peered out into camp. His mind whirled. There was still so much to do, so much more ground to cover. He mused, guardians and the parasite be damned, he might sneak you away in the night and take you back to your city. The two of you could live tofether in the darkness, away from all of this. When he first saw you laid below the platform smoking and burnt he was furious. How dare you go ahead and make him care just to die in front of him, just to cause him more pain. That feeling faded quickly away from him though, now he wanted to coddle you, rob you of your pain.

Gale was in with you now, and Astarion waited impatiently outside. He was casting more healing spells. He prayed to whoever that these ones would be enough.

Gale came out a few moments later and sighed. "I think she'll be alright," he said, putting his hand on astarions shoulder. A tsunami of relief crashed over him. He wanted to sob and scream. He didn't, though. Instead, he looked at his nails. "We arent involved, if thats what your touching up is about" he said and Gale scoffed "oh dont act nonchalant, youve stood outside her tent for three days now, sighing and gnawing" Astarion scoffed "Oh pardon me for looking after my party Mr. Calm and collected, Im not gnawing anyway Im-" there was a rustling behind the two. They whipped around started by the sudden intrusion. You emerged from the tent, and though you were so beautiful to him, Astarion thought you looked like shit. "Darling ypu mus'ent be standing." he rushed to your side, putting his arm behind your back. "Im alright, Im-" you weakly protested, but he shushed you. "No, tent now." He instructed, and you sighed.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

heyyyyy been inactive for a while, but i heard tangerine asks were open and came running 😧 so like we all know tan gets jealous easily, that's a given... but what about if you got jealous over him? i feel like he'd find out really hot when his partner was angry... 😩

also wanted to say hey and love you and i hope you're doing well !!!! 💓💓

hiii!! ugh I love it!! love you and hope you’re doing well, angel. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

subtle envy

tangerine x fem reader

— word count || 371

again, sorry, I have a couple more tan ones to go so then im no longer spamming your feeds. apologies if this is a lot of shit😭

₊✧ masterlist + taglist

Whenever Tan would return after a week's mission, he would take you out on a date to make up for the lost time. It would be a different place every time, but tonight he wanted to keep it casual, something more private and intimate. So he took you to the local restaurant for late lunch by the river.

You caught up as you enjoyed your meals, chatting about whatever happened during your time apart over a couple of light drinks. Everything was going well until you returned from the bathroom to see the same waitress hovering around your table for the fifth time. 

You slip into your seat opposite him, a displeased expression on your face.

"Can I get you guys anything else?" the waitress asks, her eyes fixed on your boyfriend.

"No, we're good, thanks," you force a smile, taking a sip from your glass.

"And yourself, sir?" she asks, battering her eyes at him.

"Nah, we're good, thanks, love,"

"I'll be over there if you need me," she smiles at him, blanking you.

"I'm sorry, babe," Tangerine grins, trying to charm you.

"Sorry? Why you sorry? No need to be sorry," you say flatly, folding your arms over your chest. "Oblivious knobhead," you mumble, biting the edge of your thumbnail, glaring at him with squinted eyed.

"Are you jealous?" he asks, his tone playfully patronising.

"Shut up," you sneer, pushing the leftover food around with your fork. "I guess she forgot what she came over for," you mutter, avoiding Tan's gaze as you make a mocking face.

"You are," he beams, his moustache twitching as his smile widens. "You're jealous,"

"Nope," you shrug, speaking indifferently. 

"You are,"

"No,"

"No?"

"No,"

"Yeah, you are," he smirks, sipping from his beer. "It is quite a look on you,"

"Shut up," you conceal a smile, momentarily glancing away. "I wanna go home now," you lie.

"Nah, we're going cinema next," he chuckles, pulling his wallet from his front pocket. "Lunch is on me, I take it?" he prods, trying to coax a reaction out of you.

"Cool," you smile into your glass, maintaining eye contact with him over the rim. "That's fine with me,"

"Attagirl," he smirks, adjusting his tightening trousers. "Attagirl."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

tangerine taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @like-a-fine-skylark @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossom @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy

[geekywritings]

“I didn’t expect you.”

You didn’t think I was done with Cal x reader fluff, did you?

Cal and reader have been traveling together for quite a while, but Cal struggles to sort his feelings. Until now.

____________________

The only life Cal Kestis had known for the longest time was the one dictated by the Jedi Order. His entire path in life had appeared so certain back then. Training at the Temple, further learning as a Padawan, the trials and finally serving as a Jedi Knight in his own right before taking on his own apprentice.

Only half of that had come to fruition. Long before he even started thinking about the trials, everything he had ever known was burned to ashes. His past, his present and his future.

He had to forge a new one for himself. Something, the temple had never prepared him for…

Lost, in hiding and scared, the young survivor had to learn the hard way how many lessons he had been missing. How little the Jedi life was connected to that of normal individuals in the galaxy.

He had managed somehow, making the best of his dire situation and finding ways to stay alive and out of sight. Unfortunately, this wasn’t any way to live. Not for a Jedi. Not for someone like Cal, with his strong sense of justice and desperate need for a purpose in life.

Cere and Greeze had been lifesavers in more ways than one. They had saved him from certain death at the hands of Trilla, but also from a far more painful and slow decay of his spirit.

He was fighting again, to rebuild the order, to protect innocents and to destroy the Empire. And with each fight and every ally he won, Cal’s confidence grew. He had begun learning new lessons, taking him further and further away from the Order and every rule he had ever lived by.

And then you had appeared, while he was on an errand run for Greeze on a small, desolate moon in the Outer-Rim.

You had literally dropped from the sky, right into his arms, the Jedi catching you purely on instinct. What a vision you had been! Dressed in a light blue dress, your hair braided and adorned with little trinkets that matched your necklace, earrings and bracelets.

He hadn’t realized it at that moment, but you had been a bride on the run.

“Help me.”

The first words you had ever spoken to him, as the calls of your family members and destined groom boomed from the building above.

“Please.”

All Cal had been able to do was nod, placing your feet on the ground and grabbing your hand instead, as he navigated you through the crowd and back to the Mantis. No questions asked, he had simply offered the help you had asked for.

That had been three or four years ago, and all memory of the forced marriage had already paled in your memory. Instead, your mind was mostly filled with thoughts of him. Your saviour. Your friend. Your comrade on the battlefield. The man you had grown to care for.

What you didn’t know: Cal’s thoughts also hadn’t stopped gravitating around you since that day.

From your sudden first appearance until now, you kept surprising him at every turn. You turned out to be an excellent fighter, using a staff almost as confidently as he wielded his lightsaber. You also shared his interest in tinkering, constantly finding ways to improve or fix something around the Mantis. What was most surprising was your personality, however: So positive, so joyful, so full of energy.

The Jedi could be having the worst of days, but one smile or joke from you and he’d find his mood lifting. One touch from your hand and he was willing to face Vader himself. Cal was feeling things around you he had never experienced before… and he knew right away that this was the thing the Jedi Temple had forbidden. This kind of all-consuming attachment, undying loyalty and sheer attraction would have him drop everything for you in a heartbeat. And it didn’t even feel wrong.

Recently, it had started to weigh on his mind more and more, as he found it increasingly difficult to push his feelings down. He cared for you. Loved you. Desired you.

Theoretically, there was nothing that stopped him from just giving in… apart from that tiny voice in the back of his mind, resembling that of his Master far too much. It reminded him of the Code, the vow he had made to follow it, to always be a good student and never disappoint his teacher.

“Look what I found!”, your happy voice tore him right out of another round of debating with his conscience and he turned to look at your beaming smile as you held up some spare part he couldn’t identify at first glance.

“You said you wanted an upgrade for BD, so he could protect himself more.”, you clarified. “It’s a tiny electro shocker. I didn’t even know they came that small.” The excitement was radiating from you like the sun, and Cal found it impossible not to smile at least a little, as he took the part from you for a closer look.

“That’s great.”, he said, but the tone in his voice had your joy falter.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked.

“Nothing…. Just thinking.”, he replied, unable to lie to you.

“What about?” You could be incredibly pushy and persistent and Cal contemplated whether he could talk himself out of this one. In the end, he concluded that he could not.

“About the Jedi Order. The code and… how I can still honor it.”

While he spoke, you had hopped onto the table he was sitting at, staring at him with a serious expression. You had known little about Jedi before meeting Cal and even now, your understanding of them felt patchy. Mostly, because you found yourself disagreeing with a lot of the things Cal had told you about.

“You are honoring it by continuing to fight what the Order stood for.”, you eventually shared your honest thoughts with him. “Peace. Balance. Justice.” Those were the things you did respect about the fallen order.

“But times have changed. The rules have changed, if you want to compare it to a game.”, you eventually continued when Cal didn’t say anything. “You adapted to stay alive while staying true to yourself. That is commendable.”

How were you so good at this, he wondered. How were you so capable of taking his doubts and worries, picking them apart with just the right words?

Green eyes were staring at you as you argued about some of the Jedi rules being outdated and impossible to follow anyway.

“We are humans, you and I. We are meant to feel sad, happy, jealous, excited, joyous and all the other things.”, you concluded with a firm nod. “If we lock it all away, are we even really alive then?”

Coming from someone, who wore their heart on their sleeve, it was probably true. You were driven by emotion in almost all you did and so far, you had never regretted it.

Cal’s expression had changed during your talk, his shoulders relaxing and his lips twitching back into a smile. Ultimately, he even chuckled.

“I wasn’t joking!”, you said, lightly punching his shoulder.

“I’m not laughing at you.”, he assured you, catching your hand before you could land a second punch and holding it in his. “I’m just thinking how much you surprise me every day.”

Your confused blinking invited him to elaborate.

“I should see it coming by now, but I never do… I didn’t expect it. I didn’t expect you.”

His thumb was now gently stroking over your skin, keeping a hold of your hand in his.

“I always thought I’d be walking the Jedi path. Even after the Order disappeared… I wanted to force that path back into existence… And then you showed up… and everything changed.”

He took a deep breath, eyes wandering from your joined hands to your face. Why had he hesitated for so long? Why had he kept his feelings bottled in? The old path was gone and no amount of fighting would bring it back. But he could walk a new one. With you.

“I think it’s time for me to take my life into my own hands… find my own destiny. Unrelated to the Order.” Still, he was dancing around it and although you knew what he was probably trying to get to, you didn't try and help him right away.

“I want to build a new life. With you.”, he finally said. “I wanted to for quite some time, but…”

You didn’t let him finish. Instead, you leaned down, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss you had been dying to give for months. Cal was so stunned, he couldn’t even return the gesture.

Slowly, you pulled away with a smile. “You are horrible at confessions, Cal.”, you told him. Your entire body was tingling pleasantly, your belly hot and your heart swelling with so much joy, it felt as if it would burst any second

“I love you too, you overthinking Jedi.”, you said, having no qualms about saying the words he had trouble finding.

Your own confession worked like a stim to Cal’s system and instantly he was up on his feet, standing before you and leaning in to kiss you. Whatever hesitation had been there before was gone all of a sudden, as his hands wove into your hair, keeping you locked to him as the kiss grew deeper.

You weren’t holding back either, giving in to every bit of passion you felt at that moment.

“If we get married, I hope you won’t jump out of the window like you did when we met, though.”, he spoke after you broke apart.

“Bad confession followed by a bad marriage proposal? We will have to work on that, Cal.”, you teased back and he chuckled before kissing you again. He would learn. He was ready for new things. As long as they were with you.

[dvrtrblhr]

hii! sorry if this is weird, but i super love your art, it's so inspiring ^▽^ have you ever posted any speedpaints before? i struggle figuring out the process in my own art so i like looking at other artists process.. but only if you want to ♡

Thanks a lot! Also I don't think it's weird at all. It makes me super happy to know others are inspired by my art!

I'm supposing you mean speedpaint as in video of my painting process? If it is so, I do post them every once in a while in my instagram account (I'm babittia there). They are just the timelapses generated by procreate, there's no voice over or anything.

I can post some here if others find it interesting. Here is the timelapse for my last Mercedes portrait:

I think my process is usually like this:

Sketch whatever, find reference if needed (like for Mercedes clothes for exemple), correct sketch

Make a second cleaner sketch (or as many as needed to make the pic understandable) - I rarely ever draw a definitive lineart, I just work with my sketch lines and paint over them later if needed

Apply flat colors (sometimes I also add some shadows on another layer using multiply)

Change lines color, merge the human figure (sketch+colors) in one layer, use liquify and transform to 'fix' anything that feels odd

Paint over the sketch, over and over again, until it looks finished (My concept of finished depend a lot on my ambition with the piece I'm working on)

Add rim light and other effects to give it a more unified look

Merge everything and use color balance to make colors pop

Export pic, open it on photoshop on a much bigger screen, correct whatever weirdness I find, use selective color to push the colors even further

It's done!

I hope this is helpful! I honestly don't mind sharing my thoughts on my art process, so feel free to ask me questions about it if you want!

Also feel free to request timelapses of a particular pic. If I made it on procreate, I have it saved (none for my photoshop art, unfortunately :/)