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delopsia · 5 months

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Void | Bob x Rhett x Reader

✦°．• Void Masterpost Word Count: 8,400 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Villain/Dark!AU, prophetic visions, verbal altercations & mentions of physical altercations, a dash of magic, edging, unprotected sex, comfort, themes of betrayal, heavy usage of Outer Range's hole and the ore that comes with it. Brief Summary: You are the monsters they created, and they must suffer the consequences. But first, there are more important things that must be taken care of in the bedroom.

"Because it was your fucking job!"

"It was no one's job to be an experiment!" Robert's voice bellows over top of Maverick's. A reverberating noise that crawls up the walls and dances around your ears. An echo you'd be able to shake if not for the ice that has formed in your bones. Joints frozen with something akin to fear. Equally cold but...calmer.

At peace, even.

Chestnut shoes click across the tile, each foot perfectly timed, walking to an inaudible beat so smoothly that Bob's shoulders hardly bounce with his step. "I signed up to protect my country," his index finger jamming toward his chest. Once. "Phoenix signed up to protect her country." Twice.

So many people in this room, and yet Maverick is the only one speaking. His white-knuckled fist shakes as he raises his voice once more. Barking like a dog in a fight. "Phoenix agreed to fly the mission!"

Smoke smolders in the corner of your eye. Lurking up in the rafters. But all you can look between the open switchblade clutched in Bob's palm and his audience.

This isn't how this was supposed to go.

"She didn't agree to die." The walls shiver. You know this story. Yet this feels like the first time you've heard Bob utter it. "I didn't agree to lose four years of my life!"

No, no, no, this wasn't the plan.

As unfamiliar as you are with Bob's old coworkers—no, friends, you're almost certain that the one who reaches for Maverick's arm is Rooster. The only man you recall having a mustache. Certainly, the only one who has any grounds to stop him, but Maverick isn't hearing it. Shrugging Rooster's unwanted hand away, "We tried to help you, but—"

"You had me charged with desertion!" Bob's voice booms.

Time nearly stops.

Milliseconds ticking impossibly slow as that delicate blade flies out of his hand. Intricately carved steel dancing, catching in the light of the crystal chandelier as it twists across the room. A perfect dance that never loses her momentum, darting across a path with such precision that you wonder if it was practiced.

Until it strikes home in a picture frame.

Right between the eyes of a recently deceased Admiral.

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, the plaque reads. You don't recognize that name.

The room explodes into movement before you can reach your next thought. Maverick surging across the room. The screech of his voice masked by the yelling of nameless faces that bolt behind him. A leader of a charge. His outstretched fist vying to snap those delicate glasses in two.

Plumes of black smoke descend from above. Swift. Sweeping through the crowd with an ear-splitting howl. Gold twinkles in the air like pixie dust.

It solidifies. A vaguely human shape that strikes Maverick from behind. His muscles going taut. Falling into a full-body spasm as he falls. Face slamming flat against the tile. Blood pouring from his nose. Boots squeal as his companions skitter to a halt.

Smoke fades into fog. That vague shape now an undeniable form. Solid knee digging into the fragile space between Maverick's shoulder blades, the other, cowboy boot-clad foot firm against the ground.

"Easy, Rhett," you don't like that eerily calm tone in Bob's words.

By the looks of it, Rhett's not too fond of being called off so easily. His brows furrowed as he steps to his feet, spurs chiming as he finds his place on Bob's right side where his vision is the worst. The result of an out-of-date glasses prescription that can no longer fully correct that astigmatism of his.

"What is that?" Someone's stuttering, his feet tangling as he backs up. Blindly bumping into the shoulders of his colleagues in his effort to get away.

Rhett's head tilts, his dark eyes meeting yours, deep blue still clouded with the ore flooding his body. But he doesn't say a word. Silent as the wind on an eerily calm night.

It is not a word or a shout that shatters the silence. Nor is it the thundering of feet racing down the corridor, Naval security responding to a distress call.

No, it isn't that at all.

It's a sharp intake of air. Boots clomping against the floor as Robert stumbles backward. Heels of his palms clanking against his glasses. Groaning low in his throat as he doubles over, a guttural noise that is too loud to be in this room full of his opponent. His enemy. Streaks of black raise from his forearms, veins bulging with it.

Your shoes are ungluing from the floor. Knees cracking as you cross the room, out from your idle resting place by the door, fighting against better judgment as you shove between the bodies of nameless pilots and backseaters. Your outstretched arms reach for those shuddering shoulders. Not here. Not here. Not here.

But your hands are going through Bob's frame. Your body as opaque as water. A flickering presence that can hardly be seen by the naked eye. Why now? Why here? Of all times for your body to start slipping out of this timeline, why does it have to be when Bob's eyes are flooding with that telltale black? Frantic baby blue irises dart across your translucent face, helpless. Until they too have been taken over by darkness.

"Stay with me," Rhett's hands appear on your shoulders. A vague contact that grows as his hands darken, gold flickering through the air once more.

But that can wait. You're not going to slip out of this timeline that quickly. It's Bob who he should be focusing his efforts on. "You don't need to—"

"'s gonna be worse if you slip outta here entirely," Rhett's palms firmly squeeze your shoulders; has already gathered up every molecule of you from where it's been meandering between the folds of reality. "He'll come out of it."

Bob's shivering body bumps against yours, moving blindly, "hallway."

"What?" Your voice blending with Rhett's. Two voices, one question.

Bob's shivering mouth can hardly form another word, his weight settling against you, and the strain it puts on your knees has you fearing that you're the only thing holding him upright. "Hallway," he breathes, voice hardly audible, "the hallway. There's, there's, in the hallway—"

"Rhett!" That voice. You don't recognize it.

But Rhett does. Shoulders stiffening. Spinning on his heels so quickly that they squeak against the floor. The very first to lay eyes on the stocky frame stomping through those double doors, his face so red it could burst.

Royal Abbott.

"Rhett!" He barks once more. His clenched fist bears that same inky darkness that is spreading across Rhett's skin. And here, you'd thought he was the only member of his family born with this ability.

"Don't move," Rhett's voice is low. A borderline growl.

And he needn't say more because the room explodes into a plume of black smoke. Dancing out from his sides, swirling and twirling around your bodies, wrapping you and Bob in a misty blanket that swallows you up entirely. Plunged into a glittering darkness that puts the night sky to shame.

"We still haven't..." No, no, no, why is your voice dying in your throat? "The documents—Bobby."

His clammy cheek squishes against your temple, flimsy arms draping around your icy frame. "This isn't going to work," he mutters, words that only you can hear, "this isn't...not with Royal."

"What do you mean?" Your voice breaks, "We can't give up on this now!"

But it's far too late for a debate. Bob's fingers rise to his lips, a low whistle washing over the silence. A calm tone that doesn't match the frenzy it sends Rhett into. Across the room within the second. Darkness spreads everywhere he touches. Through the air. Across the walls. Voices yelp and shout as a dull hum grows into an ear-splitting whine—the distorted sound of a weathered gate being opened.

The floor beneath your feet is no more. But you don't feel the fall. It's as if the world ceases to exist, leaving you and Bob to float within a dark nothingness. Your legs tangle as you draw each other in, arms wrapping around torsos and heads burying into crooks of necks, desperately clinging to each other out of fear of drifting apart.

Gold flickers. A dusting of a presence that curls around your back, cold nose bumping into the back of your neck.

"Rhett?" You whisper, and despite feeling the rumble of your voice in your throat, you cannot hear your own words. Lost to the void.

The arms that coil around you are familiar, strong, and bearing scars you've traced more times than you can count. Hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt, calloused fingertips tracing letters into the sensitive skin of your belly.

I'm here.

Despite this vast nothingness, you've never felt less alone. Safely wrapped up in the arms of the only men your weary heart can trust, the only place where the world cannot flash its sharp teeth at you.

Your feet settle upon solid ground, soft carpet squishing beneath your shoes. Home once more. Where a nest of blankets sits in the corner of the couch, pictures in frames hang proudly on the wall, and an electric candle flickers next to the television.

Precisely as you left it.

"You didn't need to call me off," Rhett says, in a muttering fashion that sounds more like a rumble than anything else. "I could have handled it."

"And what if you couldn't?" Bobby's sharp voice echoes through the living room and into the kitchen. Repeating over and over until it dies into crippling silence. A cruel sort of thing that is somehow louder than the words themselves.

His weight shifts from foot to foot. Rapidly blinking. "I'm sorry, I...." his bottom lip shivers, mouth opening and closing, fighting for words that do not exist. "I can't...I can't risk..."

But his knees give out before he can finish his sentence. Dropping so quickly that you hardly have time to dive for him. Weary arms catching his waist, too weak to do anything but slow his fall. Rhett's appearing on the other side, his face long since softened. Eyelashes fluttering a million miles a second.

Black bulges from the vein on Bob's forehead, your only indication of what has once again taken over his psyche. Jaw locked so tight it shakes. Sucking in air through his teeth. Falling into a full-bodied shiver.

You don't understand. How is it happening again? "Rhett—"

"I know," he's already got his hands on either side of Bob's head. Flecks of black emerge onto his skin, drawn from the mineral trapped in the very fibers of Robby's brain. Unruly and running rampant, forcing visions behind his eyelids and threatening to take over his very being.

You know that it's been growing. That the increase of this...this thing, whatever it is, has been eating away at him. A sort of eternal hell whose violent attacks keep his muscles tight and his eyes wide open for days on end. But you didn't realize that it's been this bad. Rhett's only removed some last Tuesday, and here he is again, two weeks earlier than usual.

Bob slackens. Free of whatever invisible strings have been pulling on him, and when his eyes open, they're themselves again. Not black with the time mineral, or a muddied mixture of it, just the baby blue that is as soft as he is.

"I can't lose you," he chokes, tone suddenly frail as he looks between you and Rhett, "Either of you." His shivering arms curl around the backs of your necks, drawing you both in.

And it's easy. Sitting here on your living room floor, burying your head in the crook of Bobby's neck, your arms tight around him. Rhett's wrapping around you two like a blanket, long curls of his hair tickling your cheek. A big pile of shivering flesh and bone that defies the will of fate herself. Souls from separate timelines, trespassing in the name of a four-letter word.

You could stay here forever. Pressing endless kisses to their cheeks, like you are now. Feeling the softness of Bob's skin and the coarseness that is Rhett's out-of-hand stubble.

"How did he find you?" Bob's speaking again, albeit not very loudly. A whisper punctuated by the reciprocal smooch on the tip of your nose. "I thought you were the only one who could control the mineral?"

Rhett's quiet, his head shaking. "I don't..." pausing to accept his honorary nose kiss, face scrunching and all, "I don't know."

You don't like that answer. Not one bit.

But there isn't anything you can do about it. Not right this second, at least. For now, you've got a bigger problem on your hands, particularly named Robert Floyd.

"Think y' can get up for us?" Rhett's asking, his fingers carding through the short strands of hair atop Bob's head. Perfectly kept, as if he's still got a strict Naval standard to adhere to. It's as if he has yet to find his individuality, even after all this time.

Weak, he nods.

It's easy getting him down the hallway and into the bedroom, where the curtains are still open, showcasing that grandiose view of the valley below, distant, snowcapped mountains, and twinkling stars above. As wild as a place can possibly get when you live so far up on this lonely little mountain.

Far too isolated, but it's the only place that can ensure you'll know when someone is coming.

"Need t' try gettin' the rest of that shit outta your head," Rhett mutters as the two of you guide Bobby to the corner of the bed, where he can't possibly miss the mattress.

Your head cocks to the side, confused, "didn't you just take some?"

"I mean, gettin' it all out," he says it like it's easy, some simple walk in the park, despite having never walked that path before.

Eyes darting to Bob's fallen face, you reach to run your fingers against the curve of his cheek. Some thoughtless little motion that has him nuzzling into your palm, desperate for the warmth of it against his skin. Not enough to soothe the wrinkles on his forehead, from the way his eyebrows furrow with thought, but it's a start.

You know what he's worrying about.

And you wish you didn't.

"I don't..." his head shakes back and forth, refusing to look up at you and Rhett like your gazes will burn him alive, "how do I...if I lose the visions..." His tongue too flimsy to get the words off, all but flailing in his mouth.

"What d' ya mean?" Rhett's taking the words right out of your mouth.

Frustrated, Bobby's head shakes back and forth, unintentionally pushing your hand away. "What if something happens?" His voice cracks. Suddenly frantic. "And I can't—and I can't protect you?"

On its own, your voice finally bursts through, "We'll find a better way." And you don't have a clue what that better way is, but there has to be one out there, right?

That sudden burst of hope shatters the moment Bob's glassy eyes flash up at you. Windows into his soul that must silently communicate his thoughts with you because, by the time his uneasy mouth opens, you've already heard what he has to say. "The visions are the only way I can keep you both safe."

...but is it worth the expense of his life? Being slowly and painfully consumed by an out-of-control substance in the name of protection?

Rhett's big, wavering hands reach out, no longer stained with midnight ink, as he takes hold of Bobby's wrist, guiding it up until knuckles brush against his scratchy cheek. You can't tell who it soothes more. "It's eatin' you alive," there's a hint of fragileness to Rhett's tone, "Please...just let me try."

Now your hand is being taken hold of, squeezed up against Rhett's chest, just above his thumping heart, alive as ever. His stubble tickling as he cranes his neck down to kiss your fingers.

"Okay," Bob lets go of a breath, and it's as if the weight of the world lifts off your shoulders. His mouth opens again, but his tongue fails to produce another word. Distracted by the way he's warily holding his arms out, a welcoming invitation that you can never deny.

Hugging him feels awkward in all of the right ways. Your cheek squished against Rhett's shoulder, half bent over as you struggle to squirm onto the bed. Three pairs of legs flailing, but your arms refusing to unwind from Bobby to help.

Four years ago, you'd hopefully believed that practice would end the bumping knees, sharp elbows, and clumsy limbs that don't quite go where they were intended. Unpracticed and out of sync with the two bodies sharing the room with you. And you're almost ashamed to admit that, if anything, it's gotten worse.

Almost.

Because now there's a confidence to the way you press kisses to Bobby's sensitive neck, and you're unafraid to meet Rhett's darkened eyes as you do it. You're familiar with each other. Can tell that the hand disappearing beneath your shirt belongs to a cowboy and the knee between your thighs is attached to a former aviator on the run from the police.

You've heard the story more times than you'd like to admit, but it still feels strange. That this gentle soul could be sentenced to five years in prison, all because he and his pilot were sent to fly through a time hole that didn't spit them out until four years later. As if being given a false funeral and losing a massive chunk of his life wasn't enough.

"I can see those gears turning in your head," Rhett's suddenly right next to your ear. Sends you jumping and knocking your forehead into Bob's jaw.

"Rhett!" You squeal, but it's too late. He's already laughing. So is Bob, for that matter. All at your weary heart's expense.

Soft kisses press to your skin. The work of two pairs of lips trailing across your cheeks, Robby's working his way to your mouth, Rhett on his way to your sensitive neck, teeth scraping against delicate flesh like a warning. What that could be, you're not sure because you're silenced before you can even begin to speak.

And you're downright melting into this familiar touch, noses bumping together, moving blindly. Your hands are roaming up Bob's chest, curling around the back of his neck, clinging as you swing your leg over his waist. Straddling him is so much easier.

Dully, you're aware that Rhett has stopped; can feel the way his hungry eyes eat up every movement. The way Bob's hands grip your waist, how you sigh and tilt your head, inhaling the sweetness of cologne that still clings to him. Drowning in the small, surprised grunt when you nip his bottom lip.

Thin, bitten lips part, welcoming you like a sweetheart who's been waiting for you to come home from a long day at work. Smiling and leaning up into you, his soft tongue twisting with yours in some lazy, practiced dance that makes your head spin. Breaking away only to gasp for a breath, then meeting again.

To your right, someone whines.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," you coo. Can already feel the way a pair of big blue eyes are drilling into you, no longer happy with just watching. But knowing what you're going to find doesn't make the pang in your chest hurt any less; Rhett's hands rest innocently in his lap, bottom lip jutted out just a smidge, eager to lean in and steal your kisses away from Bobby. "Did you feel left out?"

He hums, too content with this newfound attention to speak. Scratchy chin bumping against yours with every peck, four, five, six times, until he's been called down to steal from Bob, too.

It's times like these when you wonder how they look so similar without being related. The scruff of Rhett's jaw is a mere distraction from their matching noses. Bob's eyelashes are thinner, and his cheeks bear a dusting of freckles that Rhett only carries a sprinkling of on his back, but God, the blue gazes peering up at you are identical.

Until Bob's hips buck up against your ass.

Your gasp echoes, eyelashes fluttering, "Bobby!"

"I'm sorry," he grins, sheepish, "couldn't help myself."

But your knees are already digging into the mattress, grinding yourself back against him in such a way that you can feel his length twitch in his slacks. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you catch yourself wondering how many more times you will get to experience this. Your time is limited, cut even shorter by the furious hearts of men and women you don't know, vying to find a justice that will ultimately tear you apart.

To have Robert jailed in the name of setting an example that you cannot flee from the law.

To charge Rhett for framing his brother for his murder; who cares if he survived the attack? He lived, didn't he?

To return your weary soul to a place where friends are your closest enemies. bold enough to lock you out and leave you in the cold as some sick prank, refusing to speak your name to cover their hides.

Betrayal is a hideous thing; it doesn't start small; no, it shatters you into a million tiny pieces and asks how you could ever be so angry for what it did to you. Because you survived, and the sight of your soul bloodied and broken has made their warped heart feel a twinge of guilt. It demands forgiveness when you have none to hand out. It makes you question if you're allowed to feel these horrible things, anger and hurt, and something you can't quite name.

But these hands that roam your paper-thin skin, the delicate ones stroking your hips, and the strong ones roaming your arm...they have never made you feel so horribly. They have every reason to; they've been hurt, too, but the only thing they have ever done, from the moment they found you on the street, is love you.

"So, how's this fixing to go?" Bob asks after a long while, his head tilting as he looks up at you like he's trying to eavesdrop on the thoughts in your head.

You'd almost forgotten the ongoing plan to pull the mineral from his head.

Rhett hums, gingerly squeezing your wrist, "jus' keep doin' what you're doin'."

You needn't be told twice, thighs shivering as you scoot yourself downward. Far enough to feel the heated bulge between your legs, where you crave him the most. Don't quite recall when the heat in your core had sparked to life, but oh, does it burn brighter at Bob's groan.

The corner of Rhett's lip rises, transfixed by this show you're putting on.

Bobby's hips jerk up, pressing painfully close but so unfortunately separated by these layers of clothing. Why do pants have to exist? All they do is get in the damn way.

The two of you must have the same thought because you reach for each other's waistband simultaneously. Your practiced fingertips slide across the smooth leather of his belt, unfastening it while he thumbs at your button, yanking on the zipper. Rhett's boots thunk against the floor as he kicks them off, suddenly spurred into action at the sight of you two pulling the offending garments down your legs, underwear and all.

From the moment you're able to, you're back in his lap. Can barely think about the way that Rhett pulls your shirt over your head, too distracted by the soft glide of skin against skin. The glide of his cock against your folds, heavy and throbbing with the same need that has made you dizzy in the head.

"Ain't you two just a sight," Rhett whispers beneath his breath, never once tearing his gaze away.

"You can always join," you tease, delicate fingers reaching out to tap the tip of his nose if only to see it scrunch.

All it takes is one glance before Bob figures him out. "That devil's got a trick up his sleeve."

"Damn right, I do," now that he's moving, you regret opening your mouth. Because nothing good ever comes out of Rhett Abbott sidling up behind you, heavy cock resting against the curve of your ass, as he presses kisses to your naked shoulder. Gingerly working his way up your neck to that soft spot behind your ear.

Two of his fingers nudge at your lips, wordlessly asking for entrance that you happily grant. Tongue slipping between them, wrapping around each knuckle, lightly sucking on them in the same fashion you do his sensitive cock head. You know he recognizes it because he twitches against you, breath catching in his throat.

Bob's hands smooth up your naked thighs, the callouses of his palms catching on the sensitive insides of them, rough in the gentlest of ways. Knows what he's doing almost as well as you do, how to make you shiver and whine around Rhett's thick fingers, all from such a simple touch. He's yet to daringly reach where you crave him most, innocently roaming your body like it's a work of art.

You almost hate Rhett for drawing his hand away from your mouth, leaving it open and far too empty. But it's hard to be upset when he dips between your legs, dripping fingers dragging through your folts, across your aching clit, until he can lazily circle your entrance. Still aching from how they had their way with you in this morning, pushed to a limit you didn't know you had.

It's hard to tell who gasps louder when two fingers dip inside, your breaths intertwining into one.

"So tight already," Rhett murmurs, his voice darker than the midnight mineral flowing through his veins, "thought your poor lil' pussy would still be gapin' from us."

Bold, Bob's hand roams between your quivering legs, meeting where Rhett's fingers laz thrust into you. And you're certainly not expecting Bobby to push his finger in, too, but there are suddenly three within you. Curling to stroke at a sensitive bundle of nerves that Rhett has intentionally been avoiding.

"Soaking, too," Robby's eyelashes flutter at the way you jolt, his cock jumping against his belly. Flushed at the tip, heavy in your hand when you reach for him. You may not be able to reach Rhett right now, but you can play this game, too.

Your soft palm running up his heated skin, thumb swiping over the single beat of precum that has collected at his tip, not enough to wet him, but it makes him glisten all the same. Not quite the borderline faucet that Rhett is, making a downright mess on the back of your thigh.

Bob's other hand disappears beneath the pillow, fishing out the poorly hidden bottle of lubricant that certainly should not be hiding there. If you could see Rhett's face, you just know you'd find guilt written all over it.

For once, though, his inability to put things where he found them has made things easier. Don't have to quit stroking Bob's throbbing length as he pours the clear fluid until he's satisfied with the glide. Laziness enables more laziness.

"Do y' need more?" Rhett's fingers twitch in you, and the corners of your vision sparkle with a painting of the galaxy. Always seems to spasm after using those mythical abilities, briefly losing control of the unnamed ore that his body manufactures on its own accord.

At least he didn't make you see into the future this time.

"I think I'm alright," your tongue tingles in your mouth, difficult to move.

Their fingers pull away simultaneously, leaving you way, way too empty. But again, you've got the perfect remedy for that. Scooting up Bob's soft thighs and guiding him to meet your dripping sex, cock head kissing your loosened entrance. Their hands interlock on your hips, holding you steady; in the odd freak event, you slip up and take him all at once.

It's never happened, but they act like it happens every time.

If it has something to do with those visions, you're thankful you haven't witnessed it.

Just like how thankful you are for the gentle pressure of Bob's cock, his thick tip slipping inside for the second time today. Just big enough to make you weaken at the stretch, a whimper catching in your throat. Dragging against that bundle of nerves as he slips past, indirectly massaging against it.

Rhett's sinful hand dips between your legs once more, two fingers bracketing Bob's cock, feeling where it disappears inside.

The rain pattering against the window is the only thing you can hear; the three of you stunned into silence as you sink lower and lower on Bob's lap. Fighting to relax around him, pushed closer and closer to the border of too much when your skin finally meets with his. Flush against each other. Nothing left to take.

A shaky breath slips past your lips, heart pounding heavy in your chest. So, so full.

"You're shakin', baby," Rhett's breath tickles your naked shoulder, "needin' Robby that bad, hm?" And maybe that's why you're having such a hard time controlling yourself, shivering palms settling on Bob's sturdy chest, fighting to lift your body.

Only manage to lift yourself an inch or two before you're sinking back down, and barely able to match that when you repeat it. Exhausted muscles further weakened by the drag of his cock along your walls, rubbing right where you crave him. So good, but you can't fucking move, face wrinkling as your knees sink into the mattress, rising the smallest bit, only to fall back down onto him.

Bob's fingers swirl against your weary hips, "Having trouble?"

All you can do is nod.

Those hands rise, smoothing over your back. Only takes the slightest bit of pressure for him to draw you down into his chest. Laying against him as he digs his feet into the bed, searching for leverage.

And then he finds it, and he's thrusting up into you long and slow, and you might forget how to breathe altogether. Cheek squishing against his flushed collarbone, your eyes rolling as he does it again. Can only imagine what kind of view Rhett's got. It must be quite something because he's gone virtually silent. Watching in silent awe.

Maybe you'd be able to ask if you weren't rendered speechless by the way Bob drives up into you. Blunt tip rubbing right past those quivering nerves, punctuated by the soft smack of skin on skin, gradually quickening. Your hands are fluttering. Grabbing at the sheets. His hair. A little bit of both.

"Bobby, Bobby, Bobby," you catch yourself babbling. Don't know when your lips started moving or how to shut yourself up. It's too early to be falling apart. It's, it's...

"There you go," he's whispering in return, "does that feel good?"

Outside, thunder rumbles, the bedside lamp flickering as the wind begins to howl around the corners of the house. But you can't be brought to worry about potential power outages and how you'd clean up in the dark because Rhett's hands are smoothing up your thighs. Drawing your attention back to the way your swollen cunt spasms around Bob's length, the kind of thing that makes you shiver from head to toe.

"Talk t' him, darlin'," Rhett croons, absolutely entranced, his rough palms roaming up the soft skin of your back.

You don't even know what to say. Scrambling for words that you've forgotten the meaning of. But your fists are clenching around handfuls of the comforter as you push back against him, meeting thrust after thrust. Harder. Faster now. Bouncing your body with every soft smack.

"Come on," Bob rasps, and you've leaned back just enough to see the redness that's formed on his cheeks. He's lost his glasses, lying discarded near the pillows. Unfocused blue eyes peering down at you, eager to drink you in. "Talk to us, baby."

"Feels," choking on your words, eyes scrunching shut. Come on, come on, it's right on the tip of your tongue. "Feels good—!"

"Yeah?" That tone. Rhett's up to something, and you're too weak to look back and find out what. "Y' like it when y' get Robby's fat cock in your lil' pussy?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, your head is starting to spin, cunt clenching needlessly at his words. Can feel yourself grow wetter, downright dripping around the thick length driving up into you. And there's nothing you can do but pant for a breath you can never catch, taking every inch.

Bob grumbles this loud noise that vibrates out of his chest and into yours, "Rhett—"

"Would be a shame if he..." Before Rhett can finish speaking, Bob is gasping, stuttering to a sudden halt, "stopped."

"Quit," Bob's shuddering breath cuts him short, "Quit rubbing my balls like that."

But Rhett isn't stopping. You can feel his thumb bumping into your skin with every feather-light spiral, massaging in this frustrating sort of way that makes Bob jerk up into you. Unable to do a damn thing about this torment without hurting himself. His hot breath hitting your forehead, flushed cock still throbbing deep inside of you.

"Shit, Rhett, that..." he pants, breathless, "that...'m gonna cum if you keep..."

"A'ight," and just like that, Rhett stops.

But he's not done.

No, now he's curling an arm around you. Gingerly guiding you to sit on your haunches, your heavy head falling back against his shoulder, still full of cock. Split wide and putting on a hell of a show for Bob's darkened gaze. Especially when Rhett dips down, his fingers slipping between your folds in favor of sliding across your clit.

"Rhett," you don't know what else to see. Repeating their names like an incantation, the voicings of a weary heart desperate for a promise of forever. The one thing that the world doesn't want you to have. So unfortunate that you crave it like a fallen angel craves the warmth of the heavens.

But Rhett's hands are just as warm. Burning fingertips spiraling effortlessly around that swollen bud. Has you clenching down around Bob's cock, squeezing him up against the frenzied nerves along your walls, crying high in your throat.

"Just like that," Helplessly grabbing at his meaty wrist, squeezing until you can feel iron bone pressing back against you, "Rhett, just like...just..."

Your tongue is starting to go limp in your mouth, and somewhere between the haze settling in your senses, you catch the way Bob's eyes roll back into his head. All from the involuntary massage of your pussy, desperately chasing the way Rhett's rubbing you. Heat pools in your lower belly, sending your skin prickling.

You're...you're...

Head lolling back against Rhett's shoulder, your eyelashes flutter closed. Heart hammering against your chest, feels like the entire room has begun to spin. Can't think of anything but the soft nudge of Rhett's jaw against your forehead and his soft whisper of your name.

"Cum for us, baby," he breathes, fingers working a little faster, "come on."

And you do.

Oh, you do.

With a cry that you cannot hear, the ringing in your ears growing into an all-encompassing hum as your orgasm washes over you. Pussy squeezing around Bob's cock, chest heaving as you gasp for air, head spinning off of your shoulders and up into the clouds above. And it's warm, and it's perfect, and for just a second, you think you might be able to see a bright light in the distance of your blackened future.

But then you're coming back down all too quickly, returning to your senses just as your weary cheek comes to rest against Bob's sweaty chest. His cock slipping out of you, still painfully hard and begging for attention.

Attention that Rhett's all too eager to give him, scooting closer, collecting their flushed lengths into one oversized hand. Stroking loosely at first. Spreading remnants of leftover lube and your wetness onto himself until every motion is punctuated by a sickly squelch. Knuckles bumping into the curve of your ass, the only indication you have that he's still moving.

Bob's arms coil around you, fingers kneading into your weary flesh, has to occupy himself with something. Breath fanning out against the top of your head, swallowing down a grunt you hardly catch. It's not what he wanted, but oh, is he not complaining, bucking up into Rhett's warm hand, jostling you in the process.

"Awfully quiet down there," it's hard to tell if Rhett's remark is directed toward you or Bobby, maybe both.

Bob's trying his best to talk, his head shaking back and forth, unintentionally grants you an excellent view of the vein in his neck, flexing with the motion. "It's hard to talk when you're—fuck, when you're..." his speech stumbles into a whine, and you can feel the way his belly twitches beneath you, "God, your hand."

You can't help but lean up and press your lips to that thin skin, gingerly sucking on the vein. And so what if your free hand reaches up, two fingers pinching a pale pink nipple?

"Ah—" He damn near jumps, body bucking up into yours, "Hey!"

It's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Now that he's made one loud noise, he can't close his mouth again. A melody of breathy moans that could make anyone fall to their knees. Backed by Rhett's guttural groan, bucking up into his own hand, the meaty head of his cock bumping into you.

"I'm..." Bob's panting, "close."

Rhett stops. Not another word or warning spoken, as his big hands curl around your hips, pulling you up onto your knees, ass up for him. You already know what's coming, but you're hardly prepared for the aching stretch of his cock pressing into you. The glide smoother than before, still stretched and open for him.

"Again?" You squeak, voice punched out of you by the smack of his balls against your oversensitive clit. Not ready for another cock to fuck into you just yet, but he's already moving. Short, jerky thrusts punctuated by the exhausted wetness of your pussy, sent into a spasm of flutters around him.

Below you, Bob grumbles, "You don't have to tease me for this to work."

"I know it," you can hear Rhett's wild grin distorting the corners of his words, "but it's more fun this way, ain't it?"

His cockiness is short-lived. Karma, you suppose. Because he's leaning down, his body caging yours. Rutting into you a little quicker as he buries his face in your shoulder, muffling those soft grunts until he's stuttering to a halt, cumming in you with a garbled cry. And you're just lucid enough to feel the twitching of his cock, the heat that fills the deepest parts of you, pumping you full until he has nothing left to give.

"Couldn't help yourself, could you?" Teasing, you tilt your head to look back at him. Wasn't quite anticipating him to be leaning in for a kiss, but the shallow peck is a welcomed gift.

Rhett's quiet until he draws out of you, leaning back on his haunches to get a look at the mess he's made of your cunt. His cum already beginning to leak out, threatening to stain the sheets again if you aren't careful.

"Look so pretty when you're full of us," he muses aloud, and before you can open your mouth again, he's nudging into you again.

Or is that...no, that's Bobby, who's sinking into you. A shiver wracking down his spine as Rhett guides him back inside the absolute mess they've made of you. Cum and sweat, and lube coming together to create this sickly noise that makes you shudder.

"Am I hurtin' you?" Bob's gasping, the edges of a Texas-born accent audible, and you genuinely don't know what you would do if he always spoke like that because it's enough to make you bite back a moan.

"I'm alright," reassuring both yourself and him at the same time.

That's all he needs. Jerking up into you without abandon, arms squeezing you tight to his chest, anchoring you to his overheated body. The softest sounds drifting from his lips, punctuating his every shallow thrust. But just as quickly as he started, he's tipping over the edge, stalling to a halt with a noise you can only describe as strangled. Filling you once more until you don't think you can possibly let them between your legs for a minimum of forty-eight hours.

You've hardly got the strength to lift yourself off of him, collapsing to his left. They're leaking out of you, coating your thighs in a sticky mess that you have no hope of cleaning on your own. Not in this century.

By the looks of it, Bob might be able to join you for a nice, hundred-year nap. His half-lidded eyes staring up at the ceiling, hardly reacting to the two fingers you're walking across his chest.

But he reacts when Rhett's rough hand wraps around his spent length—jolting, wailing, as Rhett's empty hand rises to press against his forehead. Wicked thumb massaging over that flushed, weeping cock head, right where Bobby is most sensitive. Sends him into a full-bodied tremor.

"Sen—sensitive!" Tears roll down his flushed cheeks, speech devolving into something incoherent.

The hand on his forehead darkens. Drawing some nameless black ore from the depths of Robert's overworked brain. Cruel, how such a thing can be such a gift to one man and a curse to another, destroying and building up innocent bodies without rhyme or reason.

It runs out. That steady stream of midnight fading away in wriggling splotches until it's no more. And it still might not mean the end of those visions. There's no way to tell if there's more hidden somewhere in his body, or worse, it may have begun to manufacture itself like it does in Rhett. Running rampant for eternity.

But right now, there's no more, and Rhett's letting go of his abused length, and you're both leaning in to press kisses to his clammy cheeks, and it's the closest thing one can get to perfection. Your exhausted mind can hardly find the energy to return to what happened earlier.

A discussion for tomorrow.

"Are you okay?" You whisper somewhere around when he stops shaking. Calm at last.

He hums. The best that you're going to get.

And he's quiet like that for some time. Virtually silent, reduced to grunts and offhanded chuckles when you decide it's time to clean yourselves up before things start to dry in places they should not. Three pairs of legs stumble down the hall and into the bathroom; Rhett's arms are full of clothes, you're fumbling with the hot water, and Bob's simply glued to your side.

"Pink or purple?" Rhett chirps, and you don't need to look to know that he's reached under the sink and picked up a handful of bath bombs. He'd use them all at once if you'd let him.

Without a word, Bob points to the pink. Conveniently, it's also the bomb with a toy capsule hidden inside. A mystery that will surely join the small shelf of collected surprises above the towel rack.

Somewhere between the fizzing of the bomb and a sneeze that nearly sends Rhett falling into the bath, Bob grabs both of your hands. Toying with your fingers as if amused by their shape and varying sizes. How Rhett's hands are massive even compared to Bob's, and how soft yours are.

"Do you think you got it all out?" He asks after a long while. Breaking whatever silence had fallen over the room.

"Felt like I bled y' dry," Rhett hums, his foot kicking against yours, vying to start another water fight, "but there ain't no tellin' this early."

That doesn't seem to be the answer Bob was looking for. Hell, it certainly isn't the answer you want to hear, either, but what can you do other than wait?

A clear capsule rises to the surface, bouncing with its excitement to be seen and opened. A small yellow duck with a misprinted eye that has left one half of its head coated in black.

"Looks like someone turned Rhett into a duck," Bobby chirps, twisting the adorably shaped hunk of plastic in his fingers. And now that he says it out loud, it does look like Rhett when he uses his abilities. Whatever they're meant to be called.

The duck travels into the bedroom, one way or another. You find it sitting on your pillow, staring back at you with its singular eye like it's been employed to keep an eye on your whereabouts while Bob fusses with the security system. Motion detectors and alarms galore, monitoring every room and entry point that could possibly exist.

They act like there will come a day when someone breaks in, and you hope it's a measure fueled by worry rather than a vision detailing the worst.

But tonight isn't that night. No, just one of tangled legs and kisses pressed against sore skin and muscle and mumblings about plans of getting back into the Naval base. Get ahold of those documents that narrowly slipped through your fingers earlier. Copy and replace them before anyone is the wiser, keeping the originals as evidence of what happened. The only truth that can possibly force them all to acknowledge what they did to Bobby and his old pilot, Phoenix.

You wish you'd gotten the chance to know her before the hole took her life. Bob's recount of her always makes her seem like such a lovely woman.

"We can do it for you too, you know," he says, and you know he's directing it toward Rhett, because the evidence of the crime against you has already been collected.

The security footage of so-called friends locking you out in the cold, some grand plan to get back at you for forgetting to reserve the first cabin. A little "Oops, it's annoying to be forgotten, isn't it?" that left you stranded in the worst blizzard the state had seen in decades. Wandering through a perpetual blanket of white until a hole opened up beneath your feet and swallowed you up.

To think that they tried to cover up what happened to you, in the same fashion Rhett's family did to him, by pretending it never happened. Everyone in the house had simply forgotten the past twelve hours. No, we don't know what happened to them, officer; they just disappeared!

"I know," Rhett's cold nose nudges your shoulder; you'd almost forgotten that he curled up behind you, "wanna enjoy Perry in prison, a lil' longer."

Your fingers reach to run through Bob's damp hair; need something to do."Are you still showing up in the cell to scare him?"

"Absolutely."

The air is silent.

And then the three of you devolve into a giggle.

The drone of the city is one that swallows you up before you've even stepped foot into it. Flashing lights, squealing horns, and clashing of voices. People. Individuals with their own stories, purposes, and meanings in this world, crossing paths for the briefest moment, on their way to a better destination.

You are surrounded by more people than you can count, yet you might as well be invisible. A ghost that can be stepped through, only visible to a select few.

Rhett's hand squeezes yours, and it's the most solid you've felt in weeks. Maybe it's the kind of curse that applies to more than one. The three of you seemingly frozen in time as the world bustles about, never stopping for a second because the world does not stop for just anyone.

But it will soon.

God, you hope it stops on a fucking dime. Sends everyone reeling, a sucker punch flying in somewhere from behind. Rattles everything they've ever considered about themselves, the people around them, the higher power above, the world itself. Because America tells you that the only things worth knowing are those which can be known.

America is wrong.

You are worth knowing.

And you want them to hurt like Rhett did when his brother picked up his fists and beat him into the ground because how dare anyone make a simple comment about moving on. To feel the complete and utter betrayal to wake up to your father throwing you into the unknown, uncaring of how you plead for your life. Promises that you won't tell anyone what happened.

You want them to lose like Bob did when he and Phoenix were deceived. Convinced to climb into the backseat of that F/A-18, not knowing they were about to be sent through a hole that wasn't just some silly illusion. To be struck by an unknown substance that kills their best friend and forces them to suffer violent visions.

Return home after five years to find that you have been given a false funeral, your possessions no longer remain, and the Navy is accusing you of desertion. Any other way would force them to explain what happened, and a ruined life is worth the price of secrecy.

You want them to know what it's like to be betrayed by those they trust the most. Left for dead and not be given the grace of having their names plastered in the paper. Reduced to just another faceless person. A tragedy for one day, forgotten on the next.

Your eyes dart to the small phone in Bob's hand. It doesn't hurt to look at it anymore—no more bubblings of memories or invisible nippings of frostbite at your skin. It's just a cheap phone meant to do its job, and that is all.

Rhett looks to Bob.

Bob looks to you.

You look back at them.

Together, you smile. There's no going back from this, and that's okay. You are the monsters they created, after all. Bob's finger taps the crudely designed button on the phone.

Every screen in the city lights up with the same video.

Oh, what could have been.

#void au #rhett abbott #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #oneshot #smut

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cryptids-streaming · 3 months

Text

welp

(Disclaimer- this was just an idea I had that I wanted to whip up. And I haven't wrote a thing in years. So this is probably horrible, lol! But this is a fiction, a Y/N x orc fiction that I have had simmering in the back of my mind a while. I may add more or who knows. Depends on if anyone is wanting more ^^.)

The frosty air of mid-winter was sharp and bitter, but not as bitter as my heart. Nor as sharp or rough as the ropes that bound my hands behind my back. “Stand! Do not try anything. It would be a waste of your life.”, a gruff, gravelly voice sliced through my thoughts. I stared at the snow, sitting upon my knees without moving. “Up. Now. There will be no further warning.”, the voice said. I lifted my head, my gaze sliding upward from his boots to his face. He was tall and built like a stone wall. I'd have better chances of fighting an actual wall than this warrior. He narrowed his amber eyes, studying me just as intently. We sized each other up. As he laid his hand to causally rest upon his weapon, I finally moved. Standing up, I glared at the orc. My captor. “There is no sense in me asking where you are taking me, is there?”, I asked, my voice soft. He grunted, then stepped toward me as if to force me to start walking.

“No need. I will follow. I highly doubt I'd get far should I attempt to run, all things considered.”, I turned away to dodge his grasp. Our eyes locked. Finally, he nodded, making a gesture with his hand for me to come along. Noting that his other hand still rested on the handle of his weapon, my steps quickened until I was walking alongside him. “You speak the Shared Tongue.”, I murmured, glancing up at him as we walked through their encampment. I hadn't expected it, but I was grateful for that fact I could talk to someone. “Silence.” I rolled my eyes at his short answer. Deciding that any attempts at conversation was going to yield little in the way of response, I shut my mouth. My eyes scanned the organized rows and formations of the thick-walled tents. There were various tasks being done around the encampment, and the stares thrown my way didn't escape my notice. I felt my skin crawl, as the further we walked the more it dawned on me that I was truly stuck. Caught, with my fate in the hands of strangers.

Wind blew past us, it's howling creating an eerie ambient in the trees that shielded the encampment. I shivered, looking down at the ground. My ears locked onto the sound of his footsteps and mine crunching softly in the snow. 'I don't know what to do. If I run, I will likely die. If I stay...I could still end up dead...' There would be a certain idiotic bravery to attempting to run. Short lived idiotic bravery. Some would call it cowardice. 'I'd call it staying alive...' There was nothing telling me that I would be killed if I stayed, and continued to obey like a trained dog, though. 'There is simply no telling. Unfortunately, even if I ran.....their damn wargs would have me in an instant. Maybe waiting to see what happens would be the best option.'

A voice carrying on the wind arrested my attention. I looked up, peering around my escort. A group of orcs and a male harpy were standing around near a tent, urgently discussing something. It was an unusual sight, several orc warriors and a tall harpy in what seemed to be a heated debate. My heart raced as the sight of white and black speckled plumage fully registered. 'It can't be...It is!' Without thinking, I rushed forward, ducking out of reach of the warrior that I'd been following. “Kili!”, I shouted. The harpy turned his head sharply toward me, surprise and confusion on his face as he finally spotted me running toward him. I continued my mad dash towards my friend, only to yelp in surprise when I was lifted off my feet. “Hey!”, I shouted, looking back at the orc I had darted away from.

Kili and the group of warriors were all watching the scene unfold. I kicked my legs in the air, protesting, as I was unceremoniously tossed over the first orc's shoulders. “HEY! Do I look like a sack of potatoes to you?! Put me down!”, I demanded. “If you run like that again-”, he began, slowly setting me back down. “Yeah, yeah – you'll feed me to a warg or whatever.”, I glared at him. At this point, Kili had joined us, leaving the conversation he'd been a part of. “Kili!”, I felt relief flood through me. Kili tilted his head, then looked up at the warrior behind me. “Hakak?”, he eyed the orc, clearly waiting for some sort of explanation. Hakak sighed heavily, as if he was already tired of dealing with the harpy and I both. “We found her chained up to the axle of a cart, toward Val'k lake. You know this..woman?”, the orc asked. Kili nodded his head slowly, “I do. But...what confuses me, is that I left her two weeks ago in--” I broke in, “Anyway, he and I know each other. He saved my life once. He knows me!” Both men narrowed their eyes at me for different reasons. “Ul kri-krisur wanavuk avo avalk lav-li.”, Hakak paused and glanced down at me, then back at Kili. I frowned, “Kili? The hell did he just say?”

Not being able to speak a lick of orcish put me at a disadvantage, to say the least. Kili made a face. “I see. Afterwards, may I talk with her?” My frown deepened. “Hey, feathers, don't ignore me.”, I hissed. 'Why is Kili acting so weird?' Kili shook his head once at me. “Y/N, it's fine. And for the love of the nine realms, don't do anything rash.” Hakak shifted his weight, seemingly impatient to get going. “We'll see.”, the orc finally said. Kili bit his lip, his talons flexing in the snow. “Very well.”, Kili said, his tone neutral. I watched in disbelief as Kili gave me a small smile and stepped aside. Hakak urged me forward, and I turned my head to stare back at the harpy. Kili quickly mouthed, gesturing with his wings, 'Just calm down.'

To keep from tripping, I was forced to look ahead again. Hakak led me past the group of warriors that Kili had been talking with and into a tent. He said something in orcish, and then another deep voice responded. Frustration boiled up inside of me, but I held my peace as I was ushered unceremoniously into the tent. Hakak stood to the side, leaving me to stand awkwardly near the center of the tent. My eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the tent and I frowned. Another orc was standing on the other side of a table, his arms folded over his broad chest. His dark hair was braided in multiple different braids, and his amber-colored eyes were boring into mine. He had a smaller, fresher nick along his chin. There were three risen scars that ran horizontally across his right cheek, and a smaller one that ran vertically over the right side of his bottom lip, just past the tusk on that side. My gaze wandered. There were a lot of scars, a lot of reminders of past battles; at certain points under his collar and armor, I could make out glimpses of what looked to be markings of ink. I tilted my head. He suddenly cleared his throat, making me jump.

“Are you finished?”, he asked, smirking. Despite my best effort to hide it, I still felt heat creep along my face. I barely dared to breathe, staring hard at the floor of the tent as if it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen. “Hakak told me he found you. At the lake, chained up underneath a wooden cart. Yet, there were no other humans around. Care to explain?”, He prompted, absentmindedly scratching his beard. “Well...there's not much to tell. I..uh..ran a fowl of some men at a...tavern.”, I stammered. He leaned forward over the table, his large hands laying flat against the wooden surface. “Try again.”, he said in a low tone. I could feel his eyes on me. 'Crap.' It hadn't been a well thought out lie, considering the nearest human settlement was located more than two weeks away. “I fail to see how anything about me is any of your concern. Just who are you, anyway?”, I shot back with sudden bravery, drawing myself up as much as my height would allow.

He chuckled softly, but there was no humor in the sound. “I'd say it's my concern.”, he lifted his right hand and flicked his fingers toward him in a 'hurry-up, come on' sort of gesture. “You didn't tell me who you are.”, I reminded, allowing my embarrassment over being caught staring to turn into defiance. “Considering you still have your tongue, I suggest you use it wisely...before that changes.” My chest tightened, my hands balling into fists behind my back. The ropes that bound them still remained immovable. “Fine. I wasn't lying about running afoul of someone...”, I paused. “Look, I really can't....”, I tried again. My shoulders sagged as I sighed, closing my eyes. There was the sound of movement and I hurriedly looked up. He was about to walk around the table, only stopping when our eyes met. “Okay! Okay...I am Y/N, the daughter of Lord Vyn Prudvaelk. I...ran away from home a few years back. And apparently, my father is still looking to get his grubby hands on me. A few of his men caught word of where I'd been, and caught up to me in Oldroll, that settlement that's a few weeks ride away from Val'k Lake. It led to a chase and they caught up to me.”

I clamped my mouth shut, hating to admit a single word of this to anyone. “Ah, I have heard of you. You're the one Kili has mentioned to me before.”, the orc murmured as if to himself, looking lost in thought. Surprised, I stared at him again. 'Kili has mentioned me to him? Why?' I wanted to ask, but wasn't in a rush to break the silence. It provided me with an opportunity to gather my own thoughts. “Kili told me a while back about a friend of his that was on the run, and who may prove to be useful.” 'Me? Useful? To them? How?', I wondered. All of this felt too convenient, or maybe I was too suspicious toward strangers. “I am aware you must have many questions. Namely, who I am, and what is going to happen to you.”,he finally said. Now we were getting somewhere.

He leaned against one of the wooden, load-baring posts of the tent. It caused the walls to move a bit, but they held. “Yeah. For starters, anyway.”, I admitted. “I am Mokoa. Chieftain of this clan.” My jaw slackened, but if he noted my surprise he didn't say a word. 'Ah, crap. Not him!' Backing up until I hit the farthest wall of the tent, I kept my eyes pinned on him. Now it made sense. 'Kili! You dumb-ass!' “Then you know all too well who my father is.”, I hissed, my eyes narrowing in accusation. Mokoa lifted his hands, “Calm down. We can still talk this though like adults.” “Fuck that!”, I shouted, turning and bolting for the exit of the tent. With startling agility, the Chieftain vaulted over the desk, reaching the exit a fraction of a second before me. His solid frame blocking my escape. “That is the opposite of what I just suggested, Y/N.”, Mokoa said, peering down at me.

“You slaughtered his men at Revalti Pass...you and my father have been butting heads for years.”, I breathed. “There is more to it than that, don't insult either of our intellects. We both know things aren't that black and white.” My breathing amped up as I glared at him. “Did it ever occur to you that perhaps you were aware of only half the story?”, his voice held an edge to it. I opened my mouth, then promptly shut it again. I took several steps back, putting space between us. “Yes, I am aware that each story has it's sides.”, I said softly. Silence. Mokoa sighed heavily, hands on his hips. “For now, we need to discuss what to do with you.” My head jerked up, my brow furrowing as I tried to decipher what he was thinking.

“We could kill you.”, he suddenly said, tapping his chin as if considering it. My face went blank as I stared at him owlishly. Mokoa laughed, a deep, rich sound. “Gods, you are easy to mess with. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't waste my breath talking to you.” “You talk a lot.”, I muttered, “If you aren't going to kill me, then can I leave?” He grinned down at me, “What do you think?” My heart stopped in my chest, plummeting into my stomach. “You can't keep me here! On what grounds?”, I demanded, my hoarse. His grin disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “For the simple fact that your father is Lord Vyn Prudvaelk. Seeing as how you've ran away from home to begin with, though, that shouldn't bother you. However, it does provide me with some leverage.” 'Was that what he meant...what Kili meant...when they said I could prove to be useful to them?!' I ground my teeth, shaking with anger as I digested the situation.

“Your reason for wanting to keep me here is because you want to use me as a hostage?”, I seethed. “If necessary.”, he nodded his head. I tried to break free from the rope that held my hands together, grunting and huffing as all my efforts proved fruitless. Mokoa reached out, grasping my shoulder and spinning around. “Hey! What-”. My eyes widened as he unsheathed a knife from it's place on his belt. Giving me a look, he held my shoulder firmly as he sliced through the rope. Once he let go of my shoulder, I whirled around to face him. Mokoa put the knife away, lifting a brow. “Why?”, I asked. “Because watching you flop around like a fish was pathetic.”, he said dryly.

The more time I spent around him, the more I decided I hated him. “This doesn't make sense...there was no way for you to even know that I'd be in this region, let alone at that lake.”, I said, rubbing my wrists where the rope had dug into my skin. “At least, we knew you were at Oldroll. You can thank Kili for that.” “Fuck him, and fuck you.”, I said. 'I can't believe Kili would do such a thing. It doesn't sound like him. Unless, I didn't know him at all to begin with..' Was our entire friendship a lie? The Chief let out a breath, “He had his reasons. I have mine. Truth be told, we were just going to ask you and avoid going down this path.” “What, and you think that I would have just agreed to help you or be bait or something?”, my head shook in disbelief at what I was hearing.

“Go with whatever one makes you happier. There's no love lost between you and your father.”, Mokoa shrugged his shoulders. “So that magically makes it fine to use me? Is that it?”, I tossed my hands in the air and let them fall back to my sides. He ran his hand down his beard, looking as frustrated as I felt. “No. I had hoped to work with you as an ally. But it's increasingly clear that the ship has sailed on that option.” “You're damned right about that.”, I growled. Mokoa stepped to the side, allowing me access to the tent's exit. “You're not leaving the encampment. That's not happening. You try to run, and we'll hunt you down.”, he muttered, grabbing me by the upper arm as I was leaving. “Let go of me.”, I said, my voice steely. Mokoa's eyes flashed, but he slowly relinquished his grip on me. Holding open the flap of the tent, he addressed Hakak, who had been waiting nearby. “If she runs..”, Mokoa began. Hakak nodded, “Understood.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing past the Chief. I began walking away, Hakak not far behind. Kili looked up from where he had been sitting, still talking with the warriors from before. He made to move, as if he was going to get up to come talk to me. I pointed at him across the space between us, “Not now!” Kili hesitated, then wordlessly sat back down. His feathers poofed up, looking a bit ashamed and irritated. I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere would be fine as long as I could have a few minutes to think.

........

(And that's where I will leave it for now! I have no clue what I'm doing, but that's part of the fun. My writings I don't ever plan to have N$FW, but that can change. This blog is 18+, however, if I ever decide to delve into adult or darker topics, I will tag them. If I do, and forget a tag, just let me know so I can add it. I want everyone safe! And because this blog is 18+, my writing is for adult audiences regardless of N$FW scenes or not. Thank you. You are responsible for your online experience beyond that.)

#cryptid 4198 70 #exophilia #monster lover #tetrophilia #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #orc x reader #orc x y/n #original fiction #original character #tw: swearing

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stuckysbike · 1 year

Text

Howl 6

A/n: please forgive me it’s been a long long time since I’ve written anything, much less posted. All mistakes are my own.

Final Chapter! Thanks for those who stuck with me. Werewolf AU Werewolf!Bucky x Werewolf!Reader Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader (for now). Warnings: werewolf Bucky, werewolf Steve, werewolf Nat, dark themes. Mature, 18+. Exes to lovers. This chapter contains smut, P in V, cumplay, blood and a special guest star who I have a soft spot for... (If I’ve missed anything please let me know!)

Bucky was lying in bed, the lamp casting a low glow over the room. He was propped up against a pile of pillows, a book in his lap.

He looked good, with no shirt on and a knee bent out from beneath the blankets.

“We need to talk,” you said folding your arms over your chest and leaning on the wall. You tried to appear casual but inside you were anything but.

“Now isn’t a good time,” Bucky sighed.

“Yeah, when is? Because we’ve been avoiding this for months and-“

“It’s three in the morning,” Bucky huffed tiredly.

You nodded and pursed your lips. “Well you keep avoiding me but we need to talk,” you repeated stubbornly.

“Look doll, go to bed and we’ll get time to talk during the week yeah?” Bucky flicked his eyes down to his book clearly dismissing you.

You stared for a few heartbeats, but you were sick of this hot and cold, one minute Bucky was there for you, supportive and strong and the next he was icing you out. And the jealousy, possessive one moment and passive the next, you were starting to fray, and a symptom of that was your body.

“I’m coming into heat. Early; brought on, I suspect, by living here, by not knowing where I stand,” you said as the unusual feeling tingled in your tummy. You’d only had one heat before, when Jamie was conceived. An unmated Omega didn’t tend to catch them.

Bucky’s eyes were locked on you now, and you watched his tongue make a path along his bottom lip. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed, nest and let him take care of you, but that fantasy was slipping through your fingers like sand.

When he didn’t speak you sighed. “I’ll need to uh- make alternative arrangements to staying here.”

Bucky snorted, his shoulders tensed, but still he didn’t speak.

“I’ve got a few days before it really starts, I’ll get a room or something, I don’t want to irritate you,” you said.

Tight pains shot across your chest, as still he didn’t speak, and you were starting to realise that this wasn’t what you thought. He was keeping you around because of Jamie, not because he wanted you there.

“I was just letting you know Buck,” you said stepping back into the hallway and closing the door with a soft click. You paused at Jamie’s door, peeking in through the tiny gap. Jamie was snoring softly, blankets pulled around him.

Your bed was cool when you slid in and you rested your cheek on the pillow. You had been hoping that once you and Jamie settled in that Bucky might be willing to try again, and you’d have a chance to finally finish high school, maybe pick up some classes online while you worked part time but that wasn’t going to work anymore. You’d need to pick up more shifts if you were to be able to afford a place of your own with enough room for your little boy.

Disappointment left you feeling sour as you closed your eyes to sleep knowing that it likely wouldn’t come and you had yet another long night of thinking ahead of you.

—————

You closed your eyes, rocking your hips, loving the power you felt as you wiggled your body.

Out of your perpetual vision you saw a hand coming up, third time in five minutes. You slapped it away and twisted, waggling your finger in his face and tisking as you rested your weight on his thick thighs.

“Now now Lee, we both know you’re not allowed to touch me,” you said as you rested your forearms on his shoulders.

He smirked at you and you smirked back. Lee Bodecker was the sheriff, and he just happened to be Bucky’s cousin. Although a little chunkier and shorter he was a lot like Bucky and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy dancing for him.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, a slow day with very little happening. You were desperate for a few extra shifts to try and build up some cash so you could find a safe place to manage out your heat so you were picking up anything going.

“You’re a pretty girl,” his voice was husky. “Hard to keep my hands to myself sugar.”

He leered a little and you rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah well times up handsome,” you grinned as you rose and stepped back.

“Awww sugar no, a little extra, for old times’ sake,” he pouted but you shook your head and giggled. you had barely known Lee before you came back, he was your boyfriends older cousin that you saw occasionally at school or family events.

“Be a good boy and I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you promised. He pouted as you stepped back then his eyes widened slightly.

You bumped into a solid wall of warm muscle and turned to see Bucky glowering at his older cousin, his arm sliding possessively around your waist.

“We need to talk,” he growled in your ear. You tried to suppress the shiver but it didn’t work.

“Oh now you want to talk?” You scoffed, letting your sass seep out. Dancing made you feel powerful and bantering with Lee had you in a good mood.

He growled your name and you resisted the urge to press your thighs together least he might notice. Your body still wanted him, it hadn’t got the memo he wasn’t interested.

“See ya Toots,” Lee called arrogantly after you. Bucky sent him a glare as he tugged you, once again, to the car park.

“Jeez Buck you know how to make a girl feel special,” you teased. His grip tightened and he shook your arm then pulled you around to face him.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” He snapped.

You lifted an eyebrow. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Fuck you!” Bucky walked you backwards cupping your skull at the last moment to protect your head from the side of his truck.

“You won’t,” you licked your lips, heat pooling in the pit of your tummy.

The sound of a car alarm drew both of your attention; you followed Bucky’s gaze as it turned to the newcomer. Lee was busy placing his hat on the roof of his car. Bucky growled at him.

“Word of advice Cousin,” he said as he sucked on his teeth, “don’t fuck this up.”

“What?” Bucky snapped at him, a frown on his face. The hand on your shoulder loosened.

“Well if she were my girl,” Lee paused and the smirk he had on his face was private and you could only imagine what he was thinking as he licked his lips, “I would let her dance. Look at her, she’s beautiful, every man in there wants her. If she were mine, well, everyone would know she was my girl. I’d watch her dance, I’d watch them leer over her, then, at the end of the night she’d be going home with me, and them bastards would be going home with their hand.”

“Lee, fuck off,” Bucky growled.

Lee sniffed and nodded, placing his hand back on his head. He tipped it towards you. “If he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass give me a call darlin’ and I’ll take real good care of you.”

Bucky growled again then turned furious eyes on you. You looked up at him, your heart racing.

“You’re mine, and I’m sick of this ‘sticking your ass in other people’s faces’ business. You’re mine!”

Bucky’s eyes were wild, feral even. He was going to hit his rut before your heat.

“Oh, so I’m yours?” You asked.

Bucky nodded crowding closer. “You’re mine.”

“Prove it.”

His bite was harsh over your mating gland. It wasn’t a full bite, but a mark of intention. You felt blood trickle over your collarbones as he ground himself against your body.

“That proof enough for you doll?” Bucky’s voice was low and gritty and you shivered despite yourself. He carefully licked the blood away and nosed at your neck.

Your omega was preening but you hushed her, you weren’t that easy.

"You think one little nip and I'm yours?" You pursed your lips. "You've been an ass to me Bucky."

Bucky scrunched his nose up, he leaned closer and took a deep breath, resting his forehead against yours.

"Baby I-"

"No," you glared at him, your hands on his shoulders pushing him away. "No pet names. Now, I'm going back to work. If you really want to make this work, we can talk over dinner."

With that you turned away and walked to the back door of the club. You paused, looking back over your shoulder. Bucky was watching you, his eyes dark and stormy, but you could have sworn his lips twitched into a smirk for a second. With a small wave, you clicked the door shut and stepped into the club.

Technically your shift was over when Lee left but you didn’t mind staying on for a bit. As you took a podium next to the stage you saw Bucky enter through the door he’d pulled you from a few minutes ago. He took a seat, rested his ankle on his knee, clasped his fingers over his tummy, and kept his eyes on you for next hour.

—————

Bucky, I changed my mind, I don’t want to talk, I’d rather we talk later and do something more fun now. I’m heading to the cabin; I hope the woods are safe for a soft omega such as myself…xx

—————

Your heart hammered in your chest, your legs burned and you could smell the blood left behind from the branches that snatched at you.

There was a growl behind you, closer than ever.

You pushed on, catching a glimpse of the light in the cabin. The warm glow begged you to hurry, welcomed you and you decided you would take your chances with the wide meadow.

You ran, ignoring every protest your body made. Heat trickled down your back, but a sudden burst of adrenaline pushed you on.

He growled behind you, gleaming white fangs snapping in the night. You pushed on, leaping over a small stream and practically throwing yourself over the fence. By some miracle you landed on your feet and you dashed the last few meters to the porch, the door.

You fell inside with a bang, the door slamming against the wall, but he was right behind you, looming over your body as you twisted onto your back.

You tried to push away, and he followed you, his massive body caging you in. He changed as he moved, his body shifting and morphing before your eyes.

It was an intimate thing an alpha shifting. They rarely let others watch. You were one of the few.

He growled your name out, and you shivered. “I’m about sick of this dance we’re doing darlin’,” he whispered. “It’s time I took what’s mine.”

You swallowed and nodded. “I agree.”

“I’m going to bite you. Mate you. Claim you. Might even breed you. You want that? Huh?”

You hesitated, and he smirked, his eyes burning into you. He caught a handful of your hair and pulled your head back roughly. “I asked you a question.”

His breath was hot on your throat, and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You parted your lips and ran your tongue around them. Bucky mirrored your movement, and you clenched your thighs together.

His eyes softened and searched your face.

“Enough games baby, do you want this, do you want me?”

You understood that this wasn’t part of the game, this wasn’t playtime. This was Bucky asking for your consent, your commitment.

“I’ll take care of you, I promise, you just need to let me,” his tender words made your heart clench.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted love,” you told him.

He brushed his chapped lips against your well bitten ones, slipped his tongue into your mouth. He rolled his hips down into you as he deepened the kiss, owning you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tangled your fingers into his hair.

You felt his hard length against your lace covered centre, but you didn’t want that, not yet. Instead you rolled to your front and looked over your shoulder, pressing your ass into Bucky’s crotch.

“Undress me,” you begged. Bucky smirked and within a minute you were naked. His hands gripped your arms trying to turn you over, but you played shy knowing it was what he wanted. “No.”

Bucky chuffed and buried his face in your neck. “You’re killing me here doll,” he complained.

“Promise you won’t look,” you teased again. Bucky snorted.

“Yeah, dollface, I won’t look,” he raised back and sat on his haunches. His thick thighs bunched and his hard cock curved towards his tight abs. His eyes never left you as you rolled over, and he easily tugged your arms away from your body. “Tits got bigger.”

You slapped him and he laughed, but then his face turned serious. “Bucky?”

“I don’t want our second first time to be on the floor.”

—————

“Present,” Bucky growled low in his throat.

You spread you knees, pushed your ass into the air and pressed your chest into the bedsheets below.

You were already aching, wrung out from Bucky’s mouth on you and now he would take you as his own, snapping an unwavering bond in place forever.

You would be omega no more; you would be his alpha female now. His equal.

Bucky ran his fingers through your slick pussy, then used your juices to stroke his cock. He leaned forward and with his other hand grasped the two of yours in one of his.

You whined, rutting back and he snarled in response, snapping his jaw at you.

His cock was long and thick, and despite thorough preparation he felt almost too big. “Easy girl,” he hummed soothingly. “Good girl.”

Normally you hated condescending words but you whined again trying to move back but he held you fast.

“Bucky please,” you slurred. The last time you had been together he was a boy, strong but slim, a beta wolf. Years of hard work and had made him imposing, big but you still felt the same, small in comparison to his bulk.

He sunk in slow, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock.

“Baby,” he practically purred as he buried his face in your neck. He licked over your mating gland, and you clenched around him again.

“Come on, please love fuck me,” you pushed against him. You could feel the veins on his cock against your walls as you clenched around him.

Bucky pulled back slow then snapped his hips forward. The bed rattled as Bucky fucked your open, nipping the skin on your neck.

He fucked you hard, hips slapping into yours as you both panted and gasped for air. His cock brushed over your sweet spot repeatedly bringing on yet another orgasm.

You cried out, throwing your head back, and then Bucky flipped you onto your back. He loomed over you dark and strong, his eyes lust blown.

“You ready?” He asked, his face open and sincere. You could feel him throbbing inside you and you nodded pulling his head down to yours smashing your lips together.

“Fuck me please,” you said. Bucky picked up his pace, his mouth capturing a nipple as he fucked you hard. You hooked your ankles behind his back and bared your throat to him.

Bucky did the same to you, baring his mating gland and pulling your face to his neck.

He bit you first, and the mixture of pleasure and pain triggered another orgasm.

Bucky’s seed flooded you, and you cried out as he pumped his hips repeatedly into you.

You couldn’t stop licking and lapping at your mark on him, tasting his blood in your mouth. Bucky was doing the same, nuzzling into you.

He drew his lips to yours and the kiss you shared was tender, Bucky’s hand cupping your chin to hold you in place. “I’m yours now doll, never gonna’ get rid of me.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m yours, and I never want to be apart from you again Bucky. I love you so much.”

As you law nuzzling each other you felt the bond slip into place. You lay there as long as you could stroking his back and hair and you gazed up at the ceiling.

Eventually he pulled out, and you both watched as his fingers gathered your mixed juices and pushed them back in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered as his other hand trailed over your abdomen, his fingers tracing the little silver stretch marks left behind by Jamie.

“Not so bad yourself,” you teased nudging his cheek with your foot. Bucky chuckled, nipped the arch of your foot then covered your body with his to ready you both for another round.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #werewolf!Bucky Barnes #werewolf reader #werewolf au #filth #smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes imagine

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devotedtosadpoetry · 3 months

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Sorry I'm Stockholm - An AU Crossover

Like the title? hehehehe~

Very grateful I’m able to take part in the @tmntaucompetition and I have the honor to be matched up with @gemini-forest, whose art style and characters I adore <3 While my writing is normally grim and takes a serious note, I wanted to write a more silly setting where all characters have fun (in their own way) ((plus I was researching what other writers have done for crossovers and all of them fall on the silly side and I agree silly is def the best route to take for this))

Now, the theme is any time period before 1920s, and I couldn’t help but think what could be more sillier than them facing off in the colosseum GLADIATOR STYLE:

(tw for mentioning of Stockholm syndrome, showing of a feral traumatized Leo, bad jokes ((I’m trying guys, really)), fourth wall breaks, and sweet gushy moments between lovers that may be overloading on cuteness so mentally prepare yourself)

————————————

Screams for a fight, blood, a win, and a loss closed in around Donatello, his hands hovered to his headphones, eye twitching. “If I was real I would blow Poet up with uranium for this.”

Mikey jumped up and down over the ledge, looking over the colosseum with a giddiness only the youngest sibling could hold. “I’m not worried about it. It’s a break from the storyline, right? Maybe Leo will have fun too.”

“By fighting in the colosseum?” Raph said. “Yeah. As if he can’t get enough of fighting. Thanks a lot POET!”

*The author ignores Raphael’s comment and urges Michelangelo to speak*

“Oh!” Mikey said. “Do we know who he’s going against?”

Donnie lowered his goggles and zoomed in at the group directly on the opposite end, waving flags and cheering. Their version of Splinter and Casey Jr and April and an older Mikey and Raph and Donnie was there, and… “I don’t recognize some of those—”

“Yoink!” Mikey snapped off his goggles and put them on. “Oh, I spoke with them earlier! That’s Francis, Raph’s partner. And that’s Aiden, Michelangelo’s husband.”

Raph whirled Mikey around simultaneously as Donnie snatched his goggles back. “You’re gay?”

Mikey raised his hands in surrender. “This is the first I’ve heard of it!” He hesitated, then tapped his chin. “Maybe?”

“Maybe?” Raph howled.

Mikey shrugged. “I don’t know! I’ve been busy!”

“They’re holding signs up for Leo,” Donnie said. “I don’t think they’re cheering for ours, though.”

Mikey melted in his seat. “Awww. Wish we made signs. I think that would’ve cheered Leo up a little.”

The roars of the crowds filled the silence between them, Donnie winced. “This crowd definitely won’t be overstimulating and overwhelming for Leo to the point where he’ll go on a killing rampage, right?”

Sweat ran down all of their necks as the announcer called for everyone’s attention. Screaming louder than before made even Raph flinch. “First into the ring, all the way from Stockholm, Spain is Leonardo!”

Donnie gritted his teeth. “One, Stockholm is in Sweden, not Spain. How do you mix that up? And second, he isn’t from Stockholm he has Stockholm Syndrome does this announcer even—”

Raph pulled him back down to his seat—he didn’t realize he stood up. “Donnie! Calm down, everyone will probably forget about this in a couple minutes anyways. It looks like the crowd is too drunk to even hear the announcer.”

Nearby, a rabbit yokai Donnie recognized as Yuichi from another alternate universe toppled face first, still pulling out a thumbs up.

As the gate lifted, metal rattling and clanging against metal, Leo crawled out on all fours, whining and shaking his head at the sounds. He frothed at the mouth, looked around either for something familiar, or a fight to pick.

***

Jayden tightened the last leather strap and smirked at their handy work. “There,” they said. “You look good.”

Leo stood in full gladiator armor, complete with a helmet that had a red tail swinging from it. It looked good with his red markings. He swished the tail from the helmet back. “I still like my cowboy outfit better.” Smirking, he pulled Jayden in for a kiss. They leaned into it, sighing against him. They rubbed their belly in thought, and Leo leaned down. “You’re not worried for me?”

Jayden smiled back. “Well—”

The gate across from them opened, and out came a creature—no—it was a younger version of Leo. He walked on all fours and behaved like a…like a feral animal. It was hard to watch. He was thin and covered in scars—he looked frail and in need of help. He shouldn’t be fighting. Jayden turned to Leo, who watched with wide eyes. “That…that’s not what I was expecting…”

Jayden looked back at the young, tormented Leo. This wasn’t right.

Determination filled them, body and soul, and they faced their Blueberry with an open palm. “Give me your helmet.”

Leo stepped back. “Jayd, don’t think you’re going out there. You’re pregnant.”

Jayden slammed their foot down. “You’re not fighting yourself, now give me your helmet!” Then they smiled. The smile that Leo fell for, the smile he always longed to see. “I have a plan, Blueberry.”

He looked doubtful, looking back to the snarling version of himself, then sighed, handing the helmet over. “I don’t know what your plan is, but…I trust you.”

They took the heavy helmet with a grateful grin. Leo leaned down for one last kiss as their own metal gate pulled up. The announcer’s booming voice said, “Coming from Sorry I’m Late is Leo—”

Jayden stepped out, pregnant belly on full display, but they were proud in their helmet. They stepped into the sunlight and placed their hands on their hips, ever confident and sure of themselves.

“—nardo—what’s this? It’s Leo’s partner, Jayden!”

“Whoo!”

Jayden looked behind and waved to the family, Casey Jr clapped and yelled, “Go, Bapa!”

The signs they held up for Leo flipped around and said Jayden’s name, as though they foresaw this happening. The young Leo, apparently from Stockholm (he didn’t look Swedish?) saw them and flinched, pupils thinning. He hissed, sharp teeth flashing, and Jayden raised their hands. “You don’t know me,” they murmured. Leo circled them, claws digging into the dirt. When they took a step forward, they snarled, clicking in distress. Jayden smiled. “But I… kind of know you.” Jayden bent down on their knees, arms wide. “And… I know you don’t want this.”

He looked surprised, hesitant, and sniffed the air. He crept towards them, flinching at the slightest twitch of their fingers and hissing, but then came creeping back. His skittish behavior went on for minutes, but they were patient. He made it all the way to the tip of their fingers. He sniffed them, he looked at their eyes. His pupils were so thin, the scarring around his eyes were so wrong, and they recognized markings around his limbs were remnants of krang tentacles. Shivering, Jayden dared to brush their fingers against his cheek. Leo flinched, a warning growl in his throat. “It’s okay,” they murmured. They let him come on his own time, and when sniffing and stepping forward again, he brushed his face against their hand. They rested both hands against his cheeks. Laughing, they opened their arms to see if Leo wanted a hug. “See? Not so bad, huh?”

Leo suddenly flopped down onto their legs and sprawled, churring and nestling his head against their stomach, feeling the small kick of little Annie inside. The announcer suddenly said, “And the winner is Jayden!”

Jayden’s ear twitched. “Huh? But I didn’t…” They looked back at their own Leo, their beloved Blueberry, who stood behind the gate with crossed arms, but smiling. He had tears in his eyes. Smiling back, Jayden looked back down at the small and fragile Leo, just a teenager, and rested their hand on his head. “Ah…it’s fine.”

————————————

You decide which Yuichi it was who got too drunk lol. Also I knew putting Jayden in a gladiator helmet was the correct move to make they would look so cute with it on ;0; They're such a wholesome character, I knew Stockholm Leo would fall at their feet and worship them the moment they met. I hope your characters were accurate enough @gemini-forest, I did a bunch of research before going into it <3

#rottmnt #down with the stockholm #sil au #rottmnt sorry I'm late au #writer #fanfic #leonardo angst #rottmnt fanfic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rottmnt #tmnt au competition #rottmnt au #rottmnt angst #crossover #crossover au

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ghoulinpieces · 6 months

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𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑺𝑴 ✦ 𝑫𝑹𝑾

╰─➛ vampires surely couldn't exist. & surely, you wouldn't know one personally. so, obviously, no, your boyfriend isn't a bloodthirsty monster... right? so then why was he so odd?

❪ cw: a tad suggestive at times. brief mentions of drugs and overdosing. blood, obvi. arguing. kinda angsty, i suppose. fluff for the most part. a little rushed at times, mb. ❫

❪ ghoulie speaks !! first full fic i'm posting and it's lowkey a little shitty but it's okay. it's severely unedited so just ignore that, and happy spooky season babes <3 ❫

Growing up comes with fears. Whether that be the dark, or heights, or even stupid things that don't exist such as the boogeyman who sits all night under thousands of kids beds, terrorizing them into sleeping earlier, tucked in tight, as to avoid him.

These horror stories are told to you from a young age. From parents who need their kids to listen or older cousins who think it's hilarious to see the scared look on that poor six-year-olds face when they're told the story of why you hear howling on a full moon.

Some kids grow out of it, others don't. Either way it's all fictional superstition, isn't it? No need to be scared of that.

Not when there were very real things to be scared of, such as the spider crawling above the toliet that you were calling your trusty boyfriend to kill.

You were by the door, slipper in hand. He was on the couch, remote in hand. Looking for the perfect horror film to make you cringe when he faintly heard you call his name, jumped up the second time you yelled.

"What?" He approached you, noticing the slipper. He let out a sigh, smiling when you looked at him.

"Kill it." You frowned, "Please, I really gotta go and I can't." He laughed, palm outstretched for the slipper you immediately put in his hand.

"You know... we have two bathrooms. You don't always have to use this one."

"Okay, and? My pads are in this one.. what's the point of using that one when I have everything here?" You leaned on the doorframe, watching as he pushed the slipper against the creepy crawly on the wall. He made a face when you mentioned the pads, as if he was making a mental note of your time of the month. He was always weird on your period.

"Rest in peace, Charlotte." He shrugged, wiping it up with toliet paper.

"Stop doing that! You make me feel bad!" You laughed, hitting his bicep. He had begun referencing Charlotte's Web whenever this situation occurred. He thought it was the funniest thing seeing you cry over the helpful spiders death when you call him to play exterminator in your own home.

He laughed, "Relax. I mean, it's just a spider with friends and family. Wife, kids, a dream." You hit him again as he fixed his hair in the mirror, his freckles prominent in the bathroom lighting before finally walking towards the door.

"Get out." You giggled, "You're an evil man, Danny. Starting to think you don't have a soul." He sighed, his smile dimming a bit.

"Oh, if only you knew... hurry up in here. I wanna watch that new Saw movie." He smiled, closing the door. That was odd, wasn't it?

His words seemed so serious, too serious to be playing along. Maybe you're just overthinking, I mean... what could've he had meant?

But you've been noticing a lot of strange things lately. Ever since you had offered for him to start spending weekends at your place since he's always complaining about his roommate, plus he's barely at his own place anyways, and after much hesitation, he obliged. You've seen more and more of the things he thinks he keeps well hidden.

You've always noticed how he talks very vintage like. Not as in 18th century vintage but just like he's a kid from the 60s with no cares and the only thing he was looking forward too was Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin at Woodstock. But that was explainable, he likes old things, has an old soul.

But, something not so explainable is that he often ventures out at night, late when he thinks you're sleeping, and doesn't return till hours later, hair messed with and slightly out of breath when he snuggles back up to your form. Hands always cold. You swore you saw blood on his lip one time.

You've left your mind gone wild with explanations of that. Cheating always at the forefront but Danny could never do that. Not with his kind heart and his puppy eyes that worship you. His praises and actions that he reserves for you and you only.

You're not even sure if he sleeps at all. You're quite the insomniac yourself but even then you end up passing out of exhaustion. You've never seen him sleep.

He also doesn't eat garlic, can't be in the same room as it... odd but not the most strange.

You smile as you walk out the hallway and into the living room, your female pitbull cuddled up with him. You named her Rhiannon, it had been the song playing in the adoption center when you met. "Aw, aren't y'all just the cutest. I love that she loves you now." You scrunch your nose, bending over to kiss her snout.

You were always happy seeing them get along. When you first had Danny over, she had barked nonstop. She had even snapped at him, wouldn't let him near her or you. Which is odd considering she's the sweetest dog on Earth. She's never bitten anyone or even tried to, she's loves people, especially ones you're close with.

Odd she didn't like the man you're inlove with. Oh, well, she does now. That's all that matters, right?

Danny gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap as you shivered from his cold touch.

He is always freezing.

For a man like Danny, you'd expect him to always run warm. Just like a human furnace, instead, he's the North Pole.

"You okay?" He knows you're okay, just like he knows why you're cold. Of course he does. He's managed to cover up the truth by telling you he has low iron.

You simply nod, grabbing the throw blanket from behind him and snuggling closer to him on his lap. He smiles softly as he starts the movie, setting the remote down before holding you tighter. You moved your legs to be touching Rhiannon, just to let her know she's not forgotten.

It's the simple things you do that make his heart ache, make him yearn for a forever with you. Yearn to be able to grow old and watch your grandkids play in the backyard. Yearn to be able to tell you the whole truth.

But he can't. He wouldn't do that to you. Let you know there's a limited time frame between your love before he has to move cities to keep his charade going. He must rather suffer with that knowledge alone then break your heart before it's time. Or break his when you inevitably fear him.

Oh, how he curses his soulless body for loving you so deeply.

Perhaps he should've gone with the twins to Nashville, he thinks the distraction of them would've kept him from falling inlove.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

It was sunny out, far too sunny for an October sunday afternoon but you weren't complaining. Danny was outside, playing with Rhiannon while you were in the kitchen, knife in hand, apple on the plastic plate you've had for far too many years.

He had offered to cut it for you but you declined. He does so much for you, the least you could do is cut your own fruit.

But even then, you always were a klutz. You grip on the knife had slipped, sending the blade straight into your middle finger as you, stupidly, tried to catch it. "Fuck!" You hissed grabbing a paper towel to wrap around the wound.

"What happened, are you okay?" You jumped as Danny appeared behind you. He's always been freakishly fast, Rhiannon just now approaching the kitchen and she was running.

"Jesus, fuck! Don't sneak up on me like that." You sighed, "Sorry, sorry... 'm fine, just cut myself." You frowned watching as he picked up the knife and dropped in the sink, his body tensing when you mentioned the cut. He shouldn't... it could go horribly wrong, he knows that... he does it anyways.

"Let me see." His voice is so soft you could cry, hand outstretched for yours which you give gladly. Winces escaping you as he looks at the cut, blood pooling slowly from the broken skin. His jaw clenched and eyes zeroed in on it, "You scared me, y'know, thought something worse happened."

"I'll be fine. Sorry I scared you, it just fucking hurt so bad." You sigh, he shook his head.

"Don't apologize, you hurt yourself. You're allowed to be as dramatic as you want." He smiled softly, looking up at you making a face at him. He smiled wider to which you smiled back before looking back at your finger.

"Shit, Danny, it's bleeding. Can you go get the band-" You cut yourself in shock when instead of doing what you had asked, he wrapped his mouth around your finger and sucked the blood away.

His eyes never left yours, it was strangely erotic. You just blinked at him, breathing quite heavily, "Never thought those fingers would be in my mouth in a different context." He just barely whispered, kissing the cut that had stopped bleeding. The cut that was barely a cut anymore and instead skin somewhat stitched back together.

He's panicking. He shouldn't have done that, what normal person does that? He just fucked everything. Fuck, there's no excuse or reasoning for that... blood kink? Wouldn't be too far from the truth. He ran his tongue over his teeth, panicking further when he feels the slight poke of his fangs.

You just laughed in slight disbelief, reaching up to kiss his cheek, "Thank you for helping me."

He laughed, "You gonna let me finish cutting it for you?" He hid his face by turning around to find another, clean, knife.

"Have at 'em, baby, I'm done. I'm injured." You sigh dramatically, walking over to kiss the base of his neck and wrap an arm around his waist, "Just so you know, and not to be weird here... that was strangely sexual... kinda hot" He laughed loudly, his eyes crinkling.

"You liked watching me suck your blood? Really? That's what does it for you?"

"Hey, you can suck my blood anytime you want, Dracula." If only you actually knew what you were saying.

"Might take you up on that, weirdo." He nudged you with his elbow. He wouldn't. He'd never do it, too risky. He could kill you. He's not too good at self restraint.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Nights were always your favorite with Danny. Ever since he started spending nights over, your nighttime routine had been weaved along with his.

The two of you had learned to dance around each other in the bathroom. Maneuvering around one another so you get to your toothbrush or facial cleanser.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your teeth when Danny finished, putting the toothbrush he bought down at CVS to keep at your place in the cup. He leaned against the counter, watching you with the softest look on his face. He was a goner when it came to you, especially to the domesticity of your time spent together.

"Why you lookin' at me like that?" You smiled softly, looking over at him.

"Like what?" He laughed.

"You know how you're looking at me." You shook your head, putting your own toothbrush away.

"Like I love you?" He smiled, his arms wrapping around you, "Like you're the best thing to ever happen to me? Like I couldn't imagine never knowing you?"

Despite the blush on your face you laughed, and grabbed his arms, "Come on! Now, you're just bein' cheesy." You leaned your head back against his shoulder as he looked at you through the mirror, his own head resting ontop of your shoulder.

"Thought you liked cheesy." He kissed your cheek, his hands tightening their grip ever-so-slightly for just a moment before loosening.

"I do but sometimes you take it so far." You smile, walking out of his grip and grabbing his hand.

"There is never too much cheese." He sounded offended and it made you smile wider, "You think there's such thing as too much cheese?"

"I know there's such thing as too much cheese now get in bed. I'm tired."

With you cuddled up close to him and fast asleep, your arm around his waist and Rhiannon on his other side, her snout on his stomach, he decides to stay in that night. He can miss one night.

He hates leaving every night, to leave you in an empty bed that's cold for hours on end, but it's the only time he can get away long enough to do what he needs to. He wishes he didn't have to, he wishes he could stay wrapped up in you and your arms. Or at the very least he wishes he could sleep, he wishes for a lot of things.

But, when you're like Danny, most wishes can never be granted. And if they can, certainly not without a price. A risky, dangerous, scary, price.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Perhaps you were bored or perhaps your Twilight binge had rotted your brain, but you were knees deep in vampire facts.

You were definitely bored.

You were simply curious as to what the original folk story had about vampires, what had been added over time for the sake of storytelling. First clicking on Reddit, horrible but what else would you use? But then, you started to notice that too many things stated seemed quite familiar.

You couldn't remember who it had reminded you of... it was annoying you if were honest.

Cold skin. Nocturnal. Freakishly fast. Doesn't like garlic. Little to no eating. Obviously likes blood.

But then, there were things that counteracted it like them burning in the sun and having no reflection. He loved to look in the mirror and he practically lived in the sun.

He... oh shit.

It was Danny. He fit every description.

You began to look more into it, going on odd forums and weird websites that seemed like they were created for the weirdos of the internet and everything you saw reminded you of him more and more. He fit everything. It was quite scary. But, it's just a coincidence, right? Vampires don't exist, right?

You'd just have to pay more attention than you already do the next time you see him.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

The week had came and gone since that night but you hadn't heard from Danny in days, you were worried. You had no one to call to see if they knew about his whereabouts. Sure, he had friends. Work friends. They rarely spoke outside of his job.

Sometimes you think you're the only one he hangs out with. He's a bit of a recluse but you can tell it's not by choice, he's far too much of a social butterfly and outgoing in public to be this lonely in a city as big as yours. Another odd thing about him. You might just start making a list. After you find him.

It wasn't like him to disappear, not like that. He always returned within the day. It's been radio silence since Monday morning when he left. He had even missed your date that was planned for Wednesday, ignored all your messages and calls while you sat at the book store, browsing alone.

You had considered going to his place after that but... he didn't necessarily allow you there.

It was never explicitly stated that you were banned from his home but he never invited you over, always made an excuse why you couldn't come in, never had you pick him up from his complex.

#7 on the list of things that make him odd and another reason to the possible vampire theory, but they don't exist. You don't even know why you're entertaining the idea.

So, maybe he is cheating. It explains the late night departures, you never spending time at his place. There's not much to go off of but... it's the most sane explanation you could think of.

You wouldn't believe he was a vampire. Fuck what all those sketchy websites and forums and reddit posts said. Vampires are not real.

But, oh, how it pains you to think of him cheating. To think that every moment between you two was an act, that every praise and act of service wasn't true, that he pleases other women in the dark of their bedroom the same he pleases you. That he doesn't love you.

You two had been together for a little over a year and you were madly inlove. He was your gentle giant and it pains you to think he could be someone else's as well. Maybe that's why he hesitated so much when you brought up the weekend stays, he had someone waiting for him back home.

If he did, she wasn't there. You had hesitated multiple times before finally knocking on the apartment door, you waited about a minute or so after hearing a dog bark before deciding to just leave. Maybe nobody was home.

But then the door swung open, his roommate on the other side. You had seen photos of him. He was tall and skinny, long brunette hair with a bit of a wave to it and downturned eyes accompanied with an amazing bone structure. "Oh, hello." His voice was a bit raspy, not too much but enough to notice.

"Hey... um, is Danny here?" Your voice was timid, you felt odd showing up out of the blue. Even odder and uncomfortable when his brows furrowed together in confusion.

"No... he isn't. Do you know him?"

Oh.

You realized you were staring when he tilted his head, "Oh, yeah... yeah I do. He's um... I'm Y/N. His girlfriend." You wanted to curse yourself for sounding so scared.

His face fell before his jaw clenched and his eyes widened, whether that be in panic or anger, you weren't sure, "You are? Well, he didn't tell me he was seeing anybody... I'm Sam." He reached his hand out and when you took it, all you could notice was that he was cold too.

"Yeah, he's... he's told me about you." You smile softly when he nods.

"I'd hope. I only live with the man." He laughed, quite stoner like, "He's never mentioned you. I can see why, you're quite gorgeous. No wonder he wants to keep you a secret from me." Lie. He knows why Danny never told him and he knows it's not because of how gorgeous he finds you, "How long have you been seeing him?"

"For like a year or so..." You sigh as his face falls, "Kinda odd he never mentioned me, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Really odd." He shrugged, "But, yeah, he's been down in Nashville since Monday. He returned home from wherever it is he spends his weekends, which I assume is your place? He left that afternoon, a family emergency popped up. I couldn't go, I mean, I have a dog to feed. Can't leave her all by herself." He laughed.

"Since Monday?"

"Yeah... I gather he didn't tell you? Missed whatever it is you had planned Wednesday?"

"Did he tell you about it?" How could he tell Sam he had a date but not about you? You were starting to regret this, you just wanted to go home. Maybe you could distract yourself with terrible Netflix romcoms.

"Not really. All he told me he was busy on Wednesday but I just assume he must've cancelled once he left..." Sam tilted his head, "Quite cruel he didn't."

You frowned, "It is, isn't it? Um... if you hear from him at all.. can you just tell him to give me a call?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Sam will, but he can't promise that he'll tell Danny he can keep seeing you. It's far too dangerous, not just for you but for them too, "You have a nice day, Y/N." He smiled, you smiled back though it had to be forced.

"You too, Sam." The interaction did more harm than good, you felt odd and off balance as you walked away. More saddened than anything. What was Danny hiding from you? Why was he hiding you? Were you some dark secret?

You were taken out of your memory revisit when you heard a knock on the door, Rhiannon barking as she you shushed her and stood.

You sighed when you opened the door. Your gentle giant standing with sunflowers in hand, fiddling with his necklace and his short curly hair moving when he looked up at you. You were relieved he was alive, pissed that he disappeared and showed up with flowers.

"Hi." He breathed. He thought you looked radiant, he always did. You could show up covered in dirt and mud and slime and he'd happily clean you off while complimenting how beautiful you are, "Got you flowers... sorry that I missed-"

"Where the fuck have you been?" You cut him off, hand on your hip as you eyed him.

Shit.

He's heard that tone before. He's seen you use it on the phone with your mother when she's pissed you off, and he's seen you use it with Rhiannon when she won't listen. You've used it hundreds of times, pissed off beyond belief, he's just never been on the receiving end.

"You disappear for fucking days, ignore all of my texts and my calls then you show up like everything's fine? With fucking flowers?" You sighed, pushing the door open with more force than necessary, "Get in, I'm not arguing with you in the middle of the hallway." He quickly obliged. If there's one thing he's learned about you when your mad, it's to listen.

"Baby, believe me when I say I am so, so, sorry I missed our date and didn't call. I was going too but I had a family emergency and it just slipped my mind." It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth. The truth would involve exposing him and the twins to you, he couldn't do that.

Now, he sounded genuine, but the anger that seeped itself into your bones refused to leave that easily.

"It slipped your mind to call me and tell me you were going to Nashville? What? Did it also slip your mind to tell your roommate I existed, Danny?" He tensed up, eyes wide, once you mentioned Sam.

"You went to my apartment? You talked to Sam? Why would you do that? What's wrong with you?" He knew he fucked up when the words left his mouth and you frowned,

"What's wrong with me? Are you shitting me, Danny?"

"You know I didn't mean it like tha-"

"You were gone for fucking days! I didn't know where you were, not one fucking call or text in eight days! What did you expect me to do?!" You snapped, you were not going to be painted as the one in the wrong for caring, "He at least had the decency to tell me where you were!"

"What did you tell him?" You wanted to scream, that's what he was worried about? "Y/N! What did you tell Sam? Did you tell him we're together?"

"No, I told him I was a fucking alien from Mars looking to probe your brain. Of course I told him we're together, why wouldn't I?" You sighed, arms crossed. Danny looked tense, scared. You've never seen him like that.

"Because I'm not supposed to be seeing you... I'm not... I was never supposed to be even talking to you." He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. You just felt more confused and hurt.

"What the fuck do you mean? ...Danny!" You exclaimed when he didn't answer, "Are you... are you cheating on me?"

"What?"

He looked bewildered, maybe even hurt you'd think that. You regret asking but what was were you supposed to say? You two were on opposite sides of the world, he was in the light and you were in the dark. You needed to know.

"Are you?"

"No, baby, no. I'd never, I... even if I could I wouldn't." He sighed, frowning. He walked over to you, grabbing your biceps softly, "I promise you, I would never. I love you and only you, where would you even get such an idea?"

"Are you shitting my dick? Do you think you're good at hiding shit? I know you sneak out in the middle of the night for hours, Sam didn't even know about me and now you're saying you're not supposed to be seeing me." You sigh, dropping your arms which he immediately grabbed your hands. And you let him, "What the fuck is going on with you?" He sighed, looking down at the ground before back at you.

"Listen, I can't tell you-" You scoffed, taking your hands back and going to walk away before he grabbed your arm and turned you to him, "You don't know how badly I wish I could, but, please just trust me when I say it's for your benefit. It'd be dangerous for you to know." His hands grabbed your face, his fingers gentle as they cradled it, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"What are you in a gang? I can't... I can't be with you if you're hiding shit from me, Danny." You frowned, "You can't just keep lying to me."

"I know but... it's better if I do." He whispered. He didn't want to lose you, ever, but maybe it is for the better.

"So you're fine with me walking away? You're okay with losing me?"

"No, I'm not but I can't tell you the truth."

"You'd much rather I break up with you than tell me?" You couldn't believe it, it seemed like a such a stab. It was worse for him though, he knew he was going to lose you but he thought he had at least another three years with you. At least he'd be able to get over it now rather than mope about leaving you behind when him and Sam move down to Nashville to be with the twins, "I can't fucking believe you, Danny. Seriously. What is so fucking bad that you'd rather lose me than just be honest?" You weren't sad, not at that moment. You wanted him to fight for you instead he gave up as if it was a battle he could never win, which in his eyes, it was.

"Y/N..." He sighed, "I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry, Danny, don't act like you are. Jesus Christ, you don't even care! Do I really mean that little to you? Like seriously, did I ever matter?" You scoffed, taking a step back.

"You mean everything to me, Y/N, and you know that. Do you seriously think I don't care?" He seemed hurt that you'd ever think that but what else were you supposed to think?

"You're not showing me otherwise." You frowned, "Just... just tell me!" You exclaimed, opening you're mouth to speak before he beat you to the finish line.

"I'm a vampire! Okay? I'm a fucking nocturnal blood sucking monster!"

Is he... is he serious? ...Does he think you're that fucking dumb?

You can't help but laugh loudly, putting your head into your hands. He's scared out of his mind, he doesn't know how you're gonna react. He just knows he can't lose you this early, he needs you. He's an addict and you're his heroine.

He's quite literally the vampire and he considers you to be the blood.

"I can't believe you. Are you fucking with me? Like... are there some hidden cameras here?" You look around to emphasize your words while he stares at you, "Jesus, fuck, Danny. Y'know-"

"You don't believe me?" He seemed shocked, as if he didn't just say he was a vampire.

"Of course I don't believe you! Vampires don't exist!" You exclaimed, "You seriously much rather fuck with me? If you're cheating, the least you could do is tell me! It'd make this a whole lot easier!"

"Make what easier? You're seriously gonna leave me? Even after I told you the truth?" He seemed in disbelief. He swears, if he had a heart it'd broken like a dropped vase. Shattered. Pieces scattered around the floor that he'll have to pick up one by one and try his best to glue and tape back together but inevitably fail because he'll be missing the key part. You.

"You're not telling me the truth, Danny!"

"I am! I swear to God I am!" He was getting frustrated now too, you had never seen him so annoyed. If you weren't drowning in your arguement, you'd want him to take you then and there.

Anger looked good on him.

"Prove it!"

"What?"

You sighed, rubbing at your forehead, "You heard me, Danny. If you're really a nocturnal bloodsucker, prove it."

He scoffed, "How do you want me to prove that?" You rolled your eyes, "I'm not gonna start fucking running around here like I'm Edward Cullen." You scoffed this time. Did he have to be so fucking cute? And dumb?

"Your fangs. Show me your fangs." You stepped closer to him, hands on your hips. Watching as he sighed before opening his mouth, you waited a moment or two, just looking at a regular human mouth. But then, you gasped as his fangs began growing in. His teeth changing right before your eyes.

His eyes, however, were no longer the sweet brown you adore but instead piercing red. Scarier, sure, but his puppy dog eyes were still there and you loved it all the same.

"Believe me now?"

"But you don't burn in the sun... and you have a reflection..." You whispered, eyes wide and frantic.

"All myths." He shrugged as if he didn't just reveal that he was a blood thirsty monster, "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah.. yeah, I believe you." He smiled at that, putting his fangs more on display, "Oh my God... you don't... all those nights you disappeared, you weren't eating people were you? You're not gonna eat me, right?"

"No! Oh my God, no." He laughed a bit, his hands immediately shooting to grab your arms, "I feed off of animals. I don't... I never liked the idea of killing someone. I mean, I don't have to kill you to feed off you but..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"But what?" You tilted your head. You wanted to understand, you needed to, "You're afraid you'll go too far?"

"I have gone too far. One too many times." He sighed, "So, animals are the next best thing. They work just as well as people."

"You're a vampire." You laughed, the information fully settled, "Oh my God! Is that why Sam didn't know about me?" You frowned as he looked down at the ground.

"Yeah.. yeah, we made a deal we wouldn't going to get close to anybody here, let alone date them. Too many broken hearts, too many risks. Plus, we'd have to leave eventually." He sounded sad, telling you all this. And you couldn't help but hang onto to the leaving part, "But I just... I couldn't stay away from you even if I wanted too... you know that."

"You're gonna have to leave at some point?"

"Listen, I don't want to but... I can't stay forever. I mean, either way, I'm immortal... you're gonna grow old and blossom while I'm stuck being 24." He frowned, stepping closer to you. Your chest against his, "I promise you, if I could stay and give you the life you want I wouldn't even think twice about doing it." You just nodded, wrapping your arms around him.

This was going to take some getting used to.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

It had been three months since that night. Things were the same for the most part but you could tell, the fact that you'll have to inevitably part has been looming over both your heads. You just decided to ignore it, live in delusion. It hadn't exactly worked.

You two had always been inseparable but even more so now. Constantly touching, constantly talking, constantly just being together. You still never went to his place, Danny claiming it's because he likes the privacy of your apartment, and something about Sam being a whore.

However, that didn't stop Sam from wanting to get to know you. Ever since he found out about you, he claimed you're all Danny ever talked about. He never realized just how little Danny talked before then. You've invited him over once or twice.

He'll come in, eat all your food, because apparently vampires not being able to eat human food is also a myth, something about how as long as they drink blood they'll be fine. He'll talk to you about whatever, whenever, as if you're old friends and be completely barefoot the entire time.

You've also overheard their little conversations once or twice, mostly about you. Mostly about how badly the break-up will hurt, the seconds counting down to it.

"Y'know..." Sam started, looking in your fridge, his tone immediately tensing Danny up. That's the tone he'll use whenever he's about to suggest something outrageous, "You could always turn her, wouldn't exactly be difficult-"

"Are you fucking crazy?" Danny exclaimed, accidentally slamming his water bottle down. Eyes shooting daggers at Sam, "Seriously, Sam? Do you know what could fucking happen?"

"Yes, I know. You have no restraint and you'll end up killing her which you know isn't true." Sam sighed, closing the nearly empty fridge and leaning against it, arms crossed.

You were currently standing in the hallway, trying your best to eavesdrop quietly.

"Isn't true my ass. Do you not remember Annie? Her death was my fault." Sam rolled his eyes, sighing. He always brings up fucking Annie.

On that note, who the fuck is Annie? He's never mentioned an Annie to you.

"Annie died because she was coked out and shooting heroine while you did it. She would've died either way from an overdose, you just sped up the process. Y/N isn't a fucking drug addict, she'll live." He wasn't wrong but Danny could never risk it.

"You don't know that, Sam."

"Yes, I do. You love her too much to ever risk hurting her, I know. But guess what? You didn't love Annie, not the way you love her, and Annie surely didn't love you, she used you for drugs and sex, man, and you know that." Danny did know that, but that doesn't make the blood on his hands wash away, "You think Y/N wants to lose you too?"

"No, I don't but guess what, Sam? I'm not ever doing it, no matter what. I'm not risking her life or taking away her fucking soul." Danny sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I can't... I don't want to. I could never forgive myself if she died, just like I could never forgive myself if I took her away from her life."

What life? You rarely talk to your family in years and all your close friends live in different states. Danny had been the one constant.

"Just because you didn't get a choice in the matter doesn't mean she shouldn't either." God, he hated when Sam was right.

"She wants to grow old and have a family, Sam, she doesn't want to move from state to state every three to six years." Danny sighed, looking down at the counter he was leaning on.

"How do you know that? How do you know that girl won't follow you to the ends of the Earth? 'Cause it's clear as day that she'll do whatever if it means you won't leave." Sam had grabbed Dannys water now, going to sip from it when you finally decided to walk into the kitchen. Saving Danny from the conversation.

"Hey, weirdos. What'd I miss?" You smiled, seeing Danny immediately soften at the sight of you. And you didn't miss the look Sam gave him either when you walked up and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Nothing. Just vampire shit." Sam smiled.

"Yeah... just vampire shit, nothing interesting." Danny smiled, "I'll go get the popcorn ready if you wanna go put movie on."

"Sam... you wanna do that for me?" Thank God he took the hint and walked to the living room, both hands raised as he did. He usually complains whenever you imply you want to be alone with Danny, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" He turned around in your arms, his hands resting on your face, "Got you in my arms."

You scrunched your nose at him which he kissed, "You're so cheesy. Go get the popcorn ready, Dracula." You kissed his cheek, leaving him alone in the kitchen when you walked away.

You'll bring it up another day. For now, you're enjoying all the time you have left with Danny... and apparently Sam.

#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #vamp!danny #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fluff #danny wagner fic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #ghoulie <3

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scrollsfromarebornrealm · 18 days

Text

on our fates alight-nightmare

(under a cut for light body horror)

-------

He was back in Labyrinthos, back in Site Sixteen.

Somebody please--

Everything hurt. His body-his soul--everything hurt, it all hurt--

Lacelle?! Lacelle please, don't let them do this to me! Don't let them hurt me!

Living was agony.

Master Suzuri? Please-please--help--

Silence, creature!

All he could do was scream. Scream into the blinding light that stared down at him when he was tied to the examination table. Scream as he was burned and stabbed and cut and poisoned--all for Odin to react, to semi-Prime to save his Dominant's life--

Someone please...

Scream as bits and pieces were removed from him, scream when he fully Primed and they started to hack pieces of his body away--

Please help me!

His voice broke at some point but still he screamed, a hoarse whisper of sound as he lay bleeding out onto his bonds--

Make him summon the blade!

Ser, we've done everything we can--

No more light, but total and complete darkness. No aether, just the continual misery of the suppression cuffs and collar. Pain whenever he moved--crawling to where they'd thrown his meals into his cell. The bitter taste of Archon Loaf--at first seasoned with the salt of his tears. Then it became dry as his tears died, his throat aching as he choked down the slices...

Sebastian's eyes flew open. For several moments he could only lie there--unable to move, his mind screaming, an answering howl forming in his throat.

Then suddenly he could move--and move Sebastian did, hurling his upper body forward. But it wasn't the pitch darkness of his cell that met his frightened gaze, it was warm wooden furnishings and plaster walls. The scent of sandalwood and roses tickled his nose, and faintly he could hear plates clinking, music playing, and the low roar of people speaking. He could feel the aether around him--could reach for the ribbon of Darkness that was Odin's hold on him, could feel the Eikon stir slightly at his Dominant's return to the waking world.

I'm... Memory flooded Sebastian's mind, and the former mage covered his face with his hands.

Right. I'm...we're at an inn for the night. Sebastian turned his head. Beside him in the large trundle bed was Riven, fast asleep. Reinhardt was lower down, completely out cold as well. Thancred's bag was atop a second bed in the room. Just beyond it was a door--cracked partly open. If he moved his head, he could see Urianger and Moenbryda sprawled out, fast asleep. Sebastian closed his eyes, unable to repress the surge of relief that was swelling inside him.

Nightmare. Just a nightmare. He was free--Odin was free--they were free. No more Site Sixteen, no more Sharlayan. Hesitantly Sebastian swallowed. He started to open his mouth-then closed it.

Don't. Don't tempt it back. If his voice was suffering, he needed to let it rest. And if he'd had a nightmare, he needed to drink one of the potions the prie--Mathye had made him. But Sebastian found it just a little hard to move at the moment--the terror from the memories still clinging to the edges of his thoughts. Beside him, Riven grumbled sleepily.

"Mmpph." Before Sebastian could react, the younger hyur had burrowed into his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her touch was warm, gentle--and helped snap the remaining threads of fear on Sebastian's mind. Odin's Dominant sighed, feeling the tension bleed out of him.

"How am I supposed to lie back down?" He asked, looking down at the sleeping Riven. No response, of course. And his voice--sounded normal. Thank fucking everything. Sighing again--but this time with a wry smile, Sebastian carefully started to pry himself loose from Riven's grip. Once free, he silently got out of bed and padded over to the bag Mathye had made up for them, filled with healing potions, salves, and bandages. Behind him Riven grumbled and rolled over to the other side, landing on top of the still sleeping Reinhardt. The dragoon continued to sleep peacefully, making Sebastian snort as he turned back to face the duo, potion in hand.

"Hopeless." He muttered, but with affection. Breaking the wax seal, Sebastian uncorked the potion and lifted it to his lips. Downing the contents in one go, he fought the urge to cough--somehow Mathye had a talent for finding the most bitter herbs for his brews.

Drink it if you want to live, fucker. Otherwise how are you going to collect what's due you? Sebastian's lips curved into another smile at the memory of the priest's words.

"I plan on living long enough to collect from both of them." He whispered. "Don't worry about that."

#ffxiv #ffxiv-ffxvi au (the other one)#on our fates alight

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laurellerual · 1 year

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Realistically it's more helpful to use material written by George Martin to theorize about what's going to happen in his books, rather than books written by other people.

So where is the evidence that Gendry is prejudiced against wargs? He doesn't even know what they are. The only times Gendry has to deal with this side of Arya he seems to accept what she says to him without any problems or particular judgments:

She must have slept, though she never remembered closing her eyes. She dreamed a wolf was howling, and the sound was so terrible that it woke her at once. Arya sat up on her pallet with her heart thumping. "Hot Pie, wake up." She scrambled to her feet. "Woth, Gendry, didn't you hear?" She pulled on a boot. All around her, men and boys stirred and crawled from their pallets. "What's wrong?" Hot Pie asked. "Hear what?" Gendry wanted to know. "Arry had a bad dream," someone else said.

"You stay here with the horses," Arya said. "I'll get rid of him. Come quick when I call." Gendry knotted. Hot Pie said, "Hoot like an owl when you want us to come." "I'm not an owl," Arya said. "I'm a wolf. I'll howl”. […] When he stopped moving, she picked up the coin. Outside the walls of Harrenhal, a wolf howled long and loud. She lifted the bar, set it aside , and pulled open the heavy oak door. By the time Hot Pie and Gendry came up with the horses, the rain was falling hard. "You killed him!" Hot Pie gasped.

If there's one character in Arya's story who isn't obsessed with the supernatural, it's this guy. For example, he has already met the ghost of High Heart and had no particular reaction. When he witnessed the resurrection of Lord Beric, he merely acknowledged that the Red god probably exists and decided to join the Brotherhood. When Lady Stoneheart was resurrected the Brotherhood split but he decided to stay. Why would wargs be so inconceivable to a person who has seen a witch prophesy and two people resurrect before his eyes? If Gendry is prejudiced against the Old gods or magic he has never shown it.

First they are not her ancestors they are the Boltons' men, Robb's men, and Hoster Tully's men. These last two are the people Arya asks him to smith for. He has the right to have an opinion on them after the injustices he has seen them commit. However, he just watches her to see how she reacts to the news that her side is not has good as she tought.

Arya begins her journey in the Riverlands still convinced that "wolves don't eat babies" (to metaphorically quote her own words). Arya is wrong and it's a lesson she learns gradually. The very first step is when Mycah is killed and she realizes that her father's men don't give a damn about this injustice. But then along comes the Boltons, Robb's men, and Hoster's men… Post-Riverlands Arya no longer believes that “wolves don't eat babies”. Now she is a more mature and aware person.

Gendry remains with the Brotherhood even when their original mission is shelved because of Lady Stoneheart. Why? Because he doesn't have nowhere else to go? Yes. Because he is furious that the Freys killed an innocent girl, who was his friend? Probably.

But last we see him in AFFC he's not killing innocent Freys, he's protecting an orphanage. And I think it's interesting to note that when he had just met Arya he didn't care at all about protecting the children, in fact he was willing to abandon them to have a better chance of surviving. Wow character development.

Speaking of Brienne: the reader knows she is innocent. For the characters Brienne is the kingslayer's whore who goes around looking for the Stark girls with a Lannister red sword.

I wait for evidences that Gendry doesn't accept Arya as she is. But only if they come from ASOIAF books. And no, the fact that Gendry thinks highborns unfairly exploit lowborns isn't proof, because Arya totally agrees with him. Simply he knew it 'already 'cause he's lived in poverty all his life, but Arya has only recently experienced this so she need some time to process what is her role as a lady in this.

I don't know what 'meat boy' means.

#arya stark #gendry #gendry waters #gendrya #arya x gendry

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dreamsandroots · 2 years

Text

Music Box

When it happens, you will know it—Jack, Rabbits (2002)

Shades of carnation pink blend into depths of midnight green, and there's something incongruous contained within the soft light reflected off the walls. We think of the blurring paroxysm of claustrophobia within framed space. This dark and burrowed box with high ceilings is cluttered with panoply of post-industrial, refashioned and antique artefacts. We hear soft sounds of static, artificial rain breathing lightly, slowly becoming organic. A woman standing in the corner next to the shape of a faint window wears a tattered beige nightgown made of linen and moves her hands in a frenzy, tending to some inanimate object. A steam engine bellows from a distance away. A girl wearing a floral dress lies on a makeshift chaise lounge, resigned, unmoving. We watch the scene from a vantage point in the space from which we might imagine a television set to occupy.

Her: “I didn’t want you to fall.”

The man enters wearing a smart suit and stands by the door, pausing for a moment as if reflecting upon something important.

Him: “We must run this place as it should be run.”

He speaks a phrase, she returns a phrase on cue, seemingly in order to say something instead of nothing.

Him: “I want to conquer all of your troubles and desires.”

Her: “I'm fine, but there are some things you'll never know.”

Sentences blur into unmeasured moments, as if speaking themselves from hollowed voices, misdirecting like a deconstructed sex act; a succession of misfires; a lack of warmth. Their reverberations spool into the night air, spoiling themselves in formulation, self-rationalising like a series of clinical statements, inciting a feeling of emptiness through strained proximity. Sounds come and pass through here like it's nothing, this house full of unspoken queries. We think of an indeterminate place, beyond or over there; ululating and oscillating between said or unsaid. Something that may have happened.

Him: “I need your help. I'm always bursting into flame.”

Her: “It has been that way for centuries.”

They whisper as if attempting to piece together some ephemeral, yet wholly shared event. We think of an ancient mystery. We imagine biology’s initial springing forth and the inescapable death-rattle of the orgasm. This box, this screen of light—this is the social order; these gaps of sound are howling thin, weak in timbre. For an instant, a flash of light penetrates the window's opaque, muculent veneer, and a soft green glow eclipses the pink light contained inside.

Him: “I'd ruin myself just to be near you.”

Her: “I never said I'd be the other half of your desire.”

There are often footsteps outside and sometimes a hand knocks on the door. Small creatures can be heard forging their way through the room’s interior foundations. Sometimes he moves towards the door before exiting. He is off to spend his day at the machines until the time when he may return. She is always in one of two places. He wears a mask of iron as he feeds jaws of steel and stone. She tries to forget the blank walls that face her; the electric rain gushing; the steam engine that bellows some distance away.

“He always sang of the angels as if they were conquistadors,” says the woman, and the girl replies instantaneously, “I wonder why he imagines himself so small.” We consider the walls as they begin to ring with the sounds of some omniscient, ephemeral orchestra. As she contemplates the impermanence of time she clasps her hands together, fixed like a flame and raised to the ceiling which reaches ever out of her warm orbit, wishing gravity upon itself, craving her touch. Thunder rolls, and she imagines an audience watching her and weeping. We think of lost monologues spoken to no one in particular; those thought-maze-puzzles typical of the abject somnambulist—several billion alternate realities and counting. The enclosure begins to dissipate, its surfaces crawling with rebellious growth.

When he walks back through the door the box is silent, and he turns his head to look at the girl reclining on the couch and the woman, standing in the corner. He moves towards her and reaches out, as if to stroke her face. She fiddles with her hands in discomfiture; she turns away, reclining further.

Her: “You’re all about the taboo.”

Him: “There’s nothing unnatural about you.”

We wonder if the event has already occurred or if there is some undiscovered trauma, laying in wait. This is the abstract element which, through its tacit centrifugal force, holds together the social order. The absence is spectacle; semiotics structured around the void. The kettle is whistling, and as it reaches its climax, he finds himself pulling forth from the old cupboard three weathered bowls. “There's simplicity in this arithmetic: addition and subtraction,” he speaks, and wonders if she hears him. “Law of threes.” The trees begin to whisper and the scent of gardenias creeps in from the oasis outside. The telephone rings for a long time before going quiet again.

Him: “You know, I was once likened to the light of the sun.”

Her: “You would drown in these sorrows.”

After a brief pause, he remembers where he was going and, as he opens the door, he decides to walk through the doorway before halting, his mouth a dull hum, his words gelatinous, immobile. He turns away from the door and walks back into the centre of the box, past the three bowls. He turns slowly and takes in the scenery, an anthropomorphic metronome. He’s trying to see his blind-spots: he can’t for the life of him remember what he looks like. As he breathes, he listens closely and believes that he can hear a faint ringing.

Her: “You should go out into the world. Celebrate.”

Him: “You know, people don't really recognise my kind of magic anymore.”

As he returns he realises after all that the room, save for the sharp rainfall and the old steam engine bellowing from a distance, is silent, and he turns his head to look at the girl reclining on the couch, and the woman, standing in the corner, fidgeting. He realises that he has brought her a package and is excited to give it to her. As he slides the rose red slip from his briefcase, he wonders if he detects a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and moves towards the gramophone in the corner, brushing away the cobwebs and placing the record on the turn-style until the old walls are vibrating.

Her: “This song is ancient.”

Him: “Like when we first met. Do you remember?”

Her: “I remember the way we would sing.”

Him: “Do you remember when we made plans to traverse the mountain, to find the lands beyond?”

Her: “I remember dreaming together.”

As the room melts into the dream substance of dulcet notes, the woman smiles, the girl sings about making wine from the lilac tree, and the walls wear down into a soft, ebullient moss. The multiplicitous legs of unseen creatures crawl over pink surface, through the sea of broken artefacts, and birds watch and sing until flowers join them in chorus with the humming wind, the electric rain now organic, and the light that shone down through storm clouds. The steam engine bellows from some distance away. Thoughts are waves here, and waves are gravity in motion.

Him: “But how can we break free?”

Her: “You’ve been one in 500 million before.”

Him: “Your existence is more unlikely than God.”

It could go on like this forever.

Meaning falls implicitly, like a meteor, from the sky. The girl finally sleeps. The woman breathes easy and rests her hands. The man melts into the foundations, the floor structure, these old hungry walls crumbling, until only a boy is left, wide-eyed and curious. And within this frame, nothing but change is eternal.

#writing #story #fiction #surrealist prose #prose

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daimonclub · 6 months

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Halloween thoughts and poems

Halloween witches festival night Halloween thoughts and poems, quotes and aphorisms by the World of English, that is English-culture.com blog and Carl William Brown Halloween for the year 2022 is celebrated/observed on Monday, October 31st. What the dead had no speech for, when living, They can tell you, being dead: the communication Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living. T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets For these beings, fall is ever the normal season, the only weather, there be no choice beyond. Where do they come from? The dust. Where do they go? The grave. Does blood stir their veins? No: the night wind. What ticks in their head? The worm. What speaks from their mouth? The toad. What sees from their eye? The snake. What hears with their ear? The abyss between the stars. They sift the human storm for souls, eat flesh of reason, fill tombs with sinners. They frenzy forth... Such are the autumn people. Ray Bradbury But that’s what makes it so fun! Life is scary. So why wouldn’t we enjoy and make fun of that fear? It’s like life is trying to makes us fear it, and on this day we just mock its attempts and say ‘no, not today, today I’m not scared of anything you throw at me'. Patricia Morais The Harvest Moon glows round and bold, In pumpkin shades outlined in gold, Illuminating eerie forms, Unnatural as a candied corn. Beware what dare crawls up your sleeve, For 'tis the night called Hallows Eve.” Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

Halloween Magick Pumkins Treats and tricks. Witch broomsticks. Jack-o-lanterns Lick their lips. Crows and cats. Vampire bats. Capes and fangs And pointed hats. Werewolves howl. Phantoms prowl. Halloween’s Upon us now. Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons

Cute Halloween Vintage Postcard It's Halloween, The night we all play, Trick or treat, We won't go away. Be we ghoul or goblin, ghost, We'll knock on your door, To see who scares you the most. But cringe not in fear, Or cry out in pain, Cause it's only a game, Oh, what a shame. But don't despair, In the cold night air, Because we'll be back, And then you'll be scared! But not just one, Or even two. And so we bid you, A sweet adieu.” Anthony T.Hincks

Halloween Haunted Night House One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Emily Dickinson The jack-o-lantern follows me with tapered, glowing eyes. His yellow teeth grin evily. His cackle I despise. But I shall have the final laugh when Halloween is through. This pumpkin king I’ll split in half to make a pie for two.” Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons Halloween shadows played upon the walls of the houses. In the sky the Halloween moon raced in and out of the clouds. The Halloween wind was blowing, not a blasting of wind but a right-sized swelling, falling, and gushing of wind. It was a lovely and exciting night, exactly the kind of night Halloween should be.” Eleanor Estes, The Witch Family

Halloween Special Vintage Witch with her cat 'Tis the night — the night Of the grave's delight, And the warlocks are at their play; Ye think that without The wild winds shout, But no, it is they — it is they. Arthur Cleveland Coxe A gypsy fire is on the hearth, Sign of the carnival of mirth; Through the dun fields and from the glade Flash merry folk in masquerade, For this is Hallowe'en! Unknown Author Download the pdf file about Halloween History If you like Halloween you can also read the following articles: Halloween great and famous quotes Halloween or All Hallows’ Eve Halloween quotes and aphorisms Halloween death poems Read the full article

#autumn #Bradbury #dragons #eyes #family #ghosts #glowing #Goodrich #halloween #haunted #house #jack-o-lantern #people #poems #quotes #Shadows #thoughts #Witch

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vinceviralfreak · 6 months

Text

Title: The Haunted House of Chaos

Genre: Horror

Writing Style: Dialogue-Driven

Once upon a chilling Halloween night in Denver, three brave girls named Mandy, Tiffany, and Brianna decided to explore the infamous haunted house of Chaos. The rumors surrounding the house were spine-tingling, but their curiosity got the better of them.

Mandy: "Are you sure we should be doing this? I've heard terrifying stories about this place."

Tiffany: "Come on, Mandy! It's Halloween, the perfect time for a spooky adventure. Besides, it's just an old house, right?"

Brianna: "Yeah, what's the worst that could happen? Let's go!"

With their flashlights in hand, the girls cautiously approached the decrepit house. The wind howled, and the creaking of the rusty gate sent shivers down their spines.

Mandy: "I have a bad feeling about this, guys. Maybe we should turn back."

Tiffany: "Don't be such a scaredy-cat, Mandy. We've come this far. Let's see what's inside."

As they stepped through the front door, the girls were greeted by an eerie silence. The air was heavy with anticipation, and the darkness seemed to swallow their flashlights' feeble beams.

Brianna: "Did you hear that? It sounded like footsteps."

Mandy: "I told you we shouldn't have come here! Let's leave before something terrible happens."

Tiffany: "Relax, Mandy. It's probably just our imagination playing tricks on us."

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them, trapping the girls inside. Panic set in as they desperately tried to open it.

Brianna: "What's happening? Why won't the door open?"

Mandy: "We're trapped! This is exactly what I was afraid of!"

Tiffany: "Stay calm, everyone. We need to find another way out."

As they explored the house, strange occurrences became more frequent. Whispering voices echoed through the halls, and objects moved on their own.

Mandy: "I can't take this anymore! We need to find a way out, now!"

Tiffany: "I agree. Let's split up and search for an exit. We'll meet back here in five minutes."

Reluctantly, the girls separated, each venturing into different rooms. The house seemed to come alive, its walls pulsating with an evil energy.

Brianna: "Guys, I found something! There's a hidden passage behind this bookshelf!"

Mandy and Tiffany rushed to Brianna's side, their faces filled with hope.

Tiffany: "Great find, Brianna! Let's go, quickly!"

As they crawled through the narrow passage, the girls emerged into a dimly lit basement. The air was thick with an otherworldly presence.

Mandy: "We're almost out! Just a little further!"

But just as they reached the basement stairs, a chilling voice echoed through the room.

Voice: "Leaving so soon? You can't escape the house of Chaos!"

The girls froze in terror as the voice grew louder, seemingly coming from all directions.

Brianna: "We have to keep going! Don't listen to it!"

With renewed determination, the girls raced up the stairs and burst through the front door. The night air felt like a breath of freedom.

Mandy: "We made it! We're finally out!"

Tiffany: "Never again will I underestimate the power of a haunted house."

Brianna: "Agreed. Let's go home and never speak of this again."

As they walked away from the haunted house of Chaos, the girls couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. They had survived a night of terror, and their bond had grown stronger through the ordeal.

Little did they know, the house of Chaos would forever haunt their memories, a chilling reminder of the horrors they had faced on that fateful Halloween night.

#horror #scifi

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henry-and-the-seven-lords · 3 years

Text

Crying Some Sense

Lucifer x MC

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Prompt: "No, don't cry, I hate it when you cry."

Description: Lucifer has been put under house arrest and has been keeping himself in his office. His brothers and MC are worried, so they devise a plan to pull him out.

Warning: angst, slightly fluffy ending, Changing and possible spoiling of events from Lesson 14, there is also some threatening language so be weary of that

Levi and Mammon walk behind MC. They trudged through the damp grass behind the House of Lamentations as the sun begins to set.

"So are you sure this is going to work?" MC's voice sounds skeptical. Mammon's grand plan to get Lucifer out of the house while under arrest was for MC to touch the Grimoire Luke had picked up a few weeks earlier. This would have been easy, but recently it was moved to the mausoleum, where a certain three headed dog that only listened to Lucifer watched over it.

Mammon flashes them a smile, nodding as he walked, "Of course, ya touch it and he'll come bursting out of his office and we can talk about everything."

"Yeah, burstings right." Levi mumbled to himself before his voice began to raise, "Bursting with anger-" Levi is silence by his brother's hand as MC turns around.

"What did Levi say?" Fear filled their eyes as they watched Levi struggle in Mammon's grip.

"He just said, he'll be bursting with excitement! That's all!" His words are followed by an unconvincing laugh. MC stares at the two unconvinced before turning around. When MC starts walking again, Mammon smacks Levi's shoulder and whisper yells, "Keep your mouth shut. We don't need them freaking out even more."

Levi's eyes widened at his older brother as he whispered back, "You know it's true! Are you just going to throw them in front of Lucifer without telling them how mad he will be!?"

Mammon shushes him before checking on MC. As the wind began to howl, he answered his brother, "I was gonna figure that out when we got there. Now come on!"

Mammon grabbed Levi's arm and pulled him forward as they began to catch a glimpse of the rest of the party.

Within seconds the three were standing before Beel, Asmo, and Satan. It had become dark in the time it took Levi, Mammon, and MC to reach the outside of the mausoleum gates.

The wind began to whip around them fiercely as Asmo spoke, "Are you ready to talk to Lucifer?" His voice sounded sweet against the harsh wind.

"I-I think so." MC voice stuttered as the began to shiver against the cold night air.

When Beel heard their voice stutter, he walked over to them giving MC his jacket, "You know what to talk about, right?"

MC nodded at the tall demon, "I need to ask him about Belphie."

Satan nodded with a smile, "Correct. We'll be close by making sure Cerebrus stays out of your hair."

MC looked around, as best as they could in the dark, at all the brothers. Across everyone's faces was the same expression of sadness. These demons standing before them knew something that they did not and that terrified MC to their core.

Before long, Mammon's booming voice interrupted their thoughts, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

The Brothers led the way as MC walked behind them. The group was silent. A solemn, anxious air surrounded them as each foot crunched the grass below.

As they approached the entrance, Beel began to fall back and walk next to MC. He seemed anxious as well. This wasn't the first time MC had seem the gentle giant worry, but this was by far the worst it has ever been.

They glanced over and could see him playing with his fingers and sneaking glances at them as if he wanted to say something.

To ease his nerves, MC began the conversation, "Are you excited that you could see your twin again?"

A contented smiles passed Beel's face at MC's words, "Yeah... It really means a lot to me- to us. That you are doing this. That you are bringing our family back together."

MC smiled back. Beel's words warmed MC's heart and made the chills raking their body stop for just a moment, "It's the least I can do."

As MC finishes speaking, Mammon's voice yells over the wind to the group, "We're here."

Beel jogs up to the front of the group next to Mammon. The two begin to open the ornate stone doors leading into the mausoleum. Once the doors are pulled back, light floods their eyes blinding them for a second as they gaze into the cavernous tomb.

Mammon stands in the doorway puffing his chest and looking around to his brothers before he begins to speak once again.

"Asmo, Satan," He points to the pair, "You two go to the left and search for Cerebrus." He then gestures to the other two brothers and himself, "Levi, Beel, and I will go to the right." Mammon then turns his gaze from his brothers to MC, that sullen expression taking over his face once again. He walks up to them, gently placing his hand on their shoulders.

"You go dead center. Don't look back. Don't stop. No matter what you hear. You run to that book." As MC stared into his eyes they could see tears begin to prick the corners before he turned away saying, "Everyone got it?"

A resounding yes was heard and the group made their way in. They walked down a set of grand stone stairs.

MC stopped on the last stair as all the brothers looked at them. Asmo walked up to them grabbing their hands and speaking to them, "You wait here until you can't see us anymore. Then you start running." He looked into their eyes as he bent down and laid a gentle kiss on their hands.

All the Brothers looked at MC with sad eyes. Slowly they went up to them one at a time giving hugs and words of encouragement.

After all of their hugs were given, they split up and began to walk in different directions. MC stood and watched the brothers slowly disappear from their view until they were alone.

They stepped down gently taking a deep breath, before they began to sprint straight ahead.

As they ran, they could hear the pitter patter of soft feet to their left. The sound was then followed by a shout, "Over here, Cerebrus!" The voice sounded like Satan in the distance.

MC kept running as resounding shouts began to surround them on both sides. Mammon, Levi, Beel, Asmo, and Satan were all heard. Their voices seemed to echo off the walls and it became indistinguishable which side they were coming from.

After 5 minutes their legs began to burn as a statue came into view. They slowed before taking a breath and staring at the beautiful figure.

The towering statue was a young woman. Her face was solemn as her wings spread out from her back as if they were sheltering her. Her head was bent down and he hands were extended, almost as if she was giving an offering. In her hands, sat a black book.

"This must be the Grimoire everyone talked about." Their voice echoed in the mass of sound.

MC stepped closer inspecting the book. The black cover was made out of leather that had begun to crack. While the pages were thick and beginning to yellow creating a stark contrast of color.

They reached out their hands grabbing the book before looking around for the demon they came here to see.

The screaming that once filled the giant space stopped along with the sound of paws smacking against the floor. Everything was silent.

While waiting for something or someone to appear, MC became curious as to the books contents and began to flip through the pages.

As the pages fell open with a crinkle, the ground began to shake beneath them tearing their attention away from the Grimoire.

They looked up, before them stood Lucifer in his demon form. The ground below him was cracked and dust settled around him.

His gaze and aura is one of anger and determination as he begins to walk closer to MC.

"I see that you can't listen." His voice is steady and stern as he approaches.

MC's voice feels caught in their throat as they begin to step back to add some distance. As they did this, they shut the book and clutched it to their chest.

"I tell you to never touch this book, and yet here you are disobeying me once again." His eyes begin to flare red as MC hits the statue's hands, crawling on them to get away.

"Do you even know who I am? Do you know what you are defacing?" His expression looks crazed as his teeth become bared as he speaks.

MC finally finds their voice as they stare into his eyes, "I did this to help you. I wanted to talk about-"

"Help me!? You think this is helping me. Putting my entire family in danger just to get my attention." His voices raises to an ear piercing level as he continues, "Well now you have it!"

Silence once again overtakes the mausoleum as they stare into each other's eyes, "Oh? Now the mighty human is scared of me? It's too late for that."

Lucifer's bears his fangs and begins to reach for MC's body as they recoil deeper into the hands of the statue. They covered their face with their arms and squeeze their eyes shut bracing for impact.

Tears begin to prick the corners of their eyes and a sob shakes their body. They expect to feel an immeasurable amount of pain at the hands of one of their caretakers, but it never comes.

Slowly, MC peaks out from their curled up position to get a glimpse at the demon before them. His fangs are retracted and his demon form is gone as he stares wide eyed at the human.

They stare at him in the eyes as tears roll down their cheeks in droves.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Please no, don't cry, I hate it when you cry." They watched as one of the most powerful demons in all of the Devildom, the very demon that was about to rip them to shreds mere seconds ago, gently pulls them into his chest. He wraps his arms around their midsection like he had done before. He cradled their body delicately in his arms as if he was holding a glass sculpture.

MC listens to his heart beat thump erratically against one ear as he whispers in the other, "I never should have said that. I shouldn't have lashed out at you." He pauses, and MC can hear his heart's pace slow.

"I am just, so worried about Belphie. There is so much I still need to do to fix that problem. I thought, you were just going to make things worse."

He pulls them closer to his chest and MC feels hot tears fall onto their head, "How stupid am I, to let my rage overtake me and almost risk losing you as well."

MC's tears have slowed, but at his words, another river of them begins to trickle out. The two continue to cry in each other's arms for hours as they try to not only fix the problem, but work out their emotions.

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minteyeddevil · 3 years

Text

Sandy Affair

Leviathan x GN!MC

(Smut/NSFT)

(Tail sex, shower sex)

“I’m going back for another swim!” called Mammon, as he bolted off towards the cerulean waves, his younger brothers Asmodeus and Beelzebub right behind him. This left you and Leviathan on the shore, the Avatar of Envy giving a deep sigh before plopping down on the sand. “They’re always so full on energy,” he groaned for a moment, drawing your attention fully towards him.

“You don’t feel like swimming?” you questioned, letting yourself plop down in the sand next to him. He shook his head, giving you a genuine smile. “Nope, I have something else that I want to do!” He moved to his knees, motioning towards a mound of sand he had apparently been previously working on. “I’m going to make a Ruri-chan sculpture out of sand! It’s something I’ve always wanted to try, considering I’ve made figurines of her out of other material before.”

You smiled warmly at him in return, happy that he seemed to be enjoying himself so much. You scooted closer, watching him work for a few minutes, before speaking up once again. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

His amber eyes locked onto you, his face beaming. “Really, would you mind? Sure! We can work on it together if you like! Here,” he handed you a bucket he had set to the side of the sand mound, “could you fetch some water in this bucket for me? The sand needs to be wet in order for us to mold it properly.”

You gave him a nod and ran towards the water line, filling the bucket to the brim. He watched you move, a slight blush taking over his face. He was beyond excited you decided to help him out, and having your attention fully definitely made his time at the beach far better; but Hell would freeze over before he would tell you that.

You sank back down on your knees with him, placing the bucket between the both of you, and both proceeded to wet the sand, letting him take the lead on how things should be molded. You found he was humming while working on the sculpture, and you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled in your chest. “Enjoying yourself?”

The blush from before came back tenfold as he looked at you, before brushing it off and giving you another genuine smile. “O-of course I am! I’m making a sculpture of Ruri-chan! And it’s, um, reallynicehavingyouhelpmetoo…” he mumbled out, making it barely audible for you to hear what he was saying. You caught enough to get the gist of it, not wanting to embarrass the poor boy further.

Once he was satisfied with the way the sculpture turned out, he sat back on his haunches, admiring his work with a proud look to his features. You grinned widely at him, and gave a small applause for his work. “It looks amazing, Levi! Awesome job!”

He flustered and rubbed the back of his head for a moment, before an idea crossed his mind; something he could do to keep you with him still even. He grinned and turned towards you. “Let me make a sculpture out of you, MC! Since we finished this one, it’ll be fun to start a new one, and who better to...um, pose for it, than you?”

You couldn’t help the flush that came to your cheeks at his suggestion, but you agreed none-the-less. He asked you to strike a simple pose for him, something comfortable that you could stay in for a bit, while he worked the mound of sand into shape. You sat back on the sand, hands holding you up, your chin tilted up towards the sun. “This pose okay, Levi?”

In this position, your chest was rather exposed to him, and he swallowed thickly, but nodded. “T-that’s fine, just stay still!”

While he worked on the mound of sand, a bit away, his brother Asmodeus took notice of how long you had been spending time with Leviathan. He fumed slightly, drawing the attention of Mammon and Belphegor to your current spot. The pose you took especially had the three of them annoyed.

“Levi is monopolizing MC!” Asmo cried, huffing.

“Unforgivable!”

Mammon grinned evily, motioning for his brothers to follow. “This calls for a punishment, don’tcha think?”

You noticed the three of them heading your way, and the look on your face made Leviathan pause in his ministrations and turn just in time for them to come down on him. Asmodeus and Belphegor held him down while Mammon took the bucket of water, dumped it out, and used it to dig a deep hole where your sculpture once stood.

“Wh-what are you guys doing!? Let me go!” Leviathan cried out, trying to break free from his brothers’ hold.

“This is what you got comin’ to ya,” Mammon practically snarled, as the three of them shoved him into the hole. They began filling said hole with sand, burying the poor boy up to his neck. He squirmed with all his might, but found himself completely stuck. “Let me out of here!”

Mammon simply howled with laughter along with Asmodeus and Belphegor. “Ah, I always wanted to try that. It’s such a classic,” he hummed, taking in his handiwork and enjoying watching his brother squirm.

You sat there, unable to do much since the three of them moved far too quickly; but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that wanted to escape you. It was rather funny, watching the boys be, well, boys.

“Poor thing,” you sighed, giving Leviathan a small look of pity. He looked towards you and scowled when he noticed your shoulders shaking slightly. “Don’t you start laughing at me too, MC! This is so not fair! Get me out!”

Belphegor simply looked down at his older brother and gave a shrug. “I’m satisfied now. Let’s go.” And with that, the three of them walked off, leaving you still slightly laughing, and Leviathan buried deep in the sand.

“MC, c’mon, please help me!” he cried, still squirming in his sand prison. His lips came down in a pout, and it tugged at your heartstrings.

“I’m coming to your rescue, hang on!” you replied dramatically, grabbing the bucket to help dig him out. Once free, he gave a deep sigh of relief and smiled at you, but surprised you by pulling you into a tight, sandy hug.

“Thank you, MC, you’re a lifesaver! I love you!”

Every muscle in his body tensed when the words left his lips. He pulled away instantly, curling in on himself as his insecurities took hold. “W-wait, I don’t mean like love love, you know-!”

You were taken back by his sudden confession, though wished deeply to soothe him; you knew deep down inside that the feelings he just accidentally revealed were mutual. “Levi, no, it’s okay-”

“No, I mean, it’s not not like that but I--um--!” He got to his feet immediately, turning away from you and looking for any spot he could crawl in and hide. When the shower stalls came into view, he took off towards them. “Just forget I said anything! I’m gonna take a shower to rinse this sand off!”

And before you could get a better response in, he was gone. You frowned to yourself, knowing you should let him be; eventually he would be back to his normal self and start talking to you again. But, this time you didn’t want to let him get away. He always managed to get away when a moment like this happened. You were far too determined this time.

You got to your feet and walked over to the shower stalls, listening for the sound of running water. Thankfully there was only one, and you were sure that had to be him. When you got closer, it was only confirmed when you could hear his self-loathing mumbles alongside the falling water. You didn’t bother knocking as you opened the stall and stepped in, closing the door behind you.

He turned to see you and pressed his back against the wall, a flush from his face going all the way down to his chest greeting you. “MC, why are you in here!? Get out of here now!” he growled, trying to shove you out the door; but you resisted and managed to back the demon up, keeping yourself pressed against his chest.

“Not this time, Levi,” you spoke softly, pressing your hands to his chest so his back made contact with the wall once more. “You’ve been able to get your feelings out, and now it’s my turn. No more running.” You lifted your hand to cup his cheek, the other still resting on his chest. You leaned forward a bit, a mere inch away from his face.

“I love you too, Leviathan. I always have. So please, stop running away from me, okay?”

He blinked down at you several times, as if the words hadn’t quite registered. But when your lips came to press against his own, his arms wrapped tightly around you and he returned the kiss with fervor. Your hands ran up his chest, along his neck, and your fingers soon got lost in his violet locks as you continued to kiss until you had to pull away for air. He too was a panting mess, his amber eyes blown out as he looked across your flushed face.

“I love you so much, MC. I...I’m really happy to know you love me too.”

His words were so heartfelt, it made everything in you just melt. You continued to kiss him, keeping pressed against the wall, until you felt something hot and hard prodding against your lower stomach. When you pulled away and looked down to see the tent formed in his swim trunks, he looked away, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry!” he cried, “Kissing you just...feels so good!”

You simply smiled at him, a lusty glint in your eye as you slowly sank down to your knees before him. You untied the laces to his trunks and pulled them down to his mid-thigh, allowing his cock to bob forward for you. He took in a hissing breath when he saw you lick your lips, and covered his face once more to hide his reddened cheeks. “You r-really don’t have to do that for such a gross otaku like me! You don’t-”

You shut him up by taking the head in your mouth and lavishing it with your tongue. You pulled away with a sinful pop, and looked up at him as you stroked his shaft. “If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t get on my knees for you,” you teased, making him groan deeply. You took the head back into your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks sucking on it, before taking more of him in. His head went back against the wall, his hips slowly rutting against your mouth as you took more and more of him in. Eventually his tip hit the back of your throat, almost making you gag, but you were able to suppress it, and bobbed your head, taking as much of him in as fast as you could.

His fingers laced through your hair, gripping tightly and you could feel him tugging, his hips pressing against your mouth harder and harder. His next groan was almost a growl, and suddenly you felt something slithering along your exposed skin, down your chest and between the cleft of your thighs. It worked its way under your swimsuit, and you could feel the tip of it drawing circles around your entrance, pressing in ever so slightly, before finally filling you. You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until they fluttered open to look up at Leviathan; he had transformed into his demon form, his tail now working you in time with your mouth on him. His features were set in an almost snarl as he concentrated on the pleasure you were giving him, but also to give back to you in return.

When your tempo increased, so did his tail, and the scales along it only heightened your pleasure as it filled you, the tip pressing roughly against the sensitive spot within. You moaned around his cock as he decided to pick up his pace, fucking you relentlessly until you began to follow suit with your mouth. You could feel his thigh muscles tensing under your hands and his cock began to swell and twitch against your tongue. With one hard thrust, he moaned your name and filled your throat with his cum. What you couldn’t swallow dribbled down along your lip and chin; but you didn’t much care for the mess he made of you; not while his tail continued to wreak havoc within you. A few more strokes of the tip had you crying his name, and you sank your nails into the flesh of his thighs as you came. He let himself slump down onto his knees with you, holding you as you collapsed forward into his arms.

“I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” he questioned, worry apparent in his voice. You simply shook your head, lifting your arms, despite how tired they felt, to wrap around his neck. He slowly changed back from his demon form into his normal one, and he held you close, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you...um...for that, MC.”

He helped you clean up in the shower, before carrying you (your legs were like jello at this point) out and back towards the sand where he wished to try making the sculpture of you again. You wholeheartedly agreed, and also promised that if his brothers were to come and try to bury him again, you would fight tooth and nail for him.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me nsft #leviathan x gn!reader #leviathan x mc #gn!mc #leviathan #fanfic

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seijohsbabe · 3 years

Note

Hellloo Can I request where the MSBY boys (Saku, Atsu, Hina,Bo) trains their naive little manager? and now she's their fully fledge cum dumpster and their girl 🥴 like the others thought that she's still innocent by the way she act but the boys knew that you are slut in front of them tysm!!!!!!

a/n: Hell yes! I always wanted to write something about them c: Hope You will like it :)

Pairing: Black Jackals x Reader

Tw: dubcon, anal, overstimulation, cum overload, fivesome, double penetration

Wordcount: 2,6k

You wouldn't take your job as manager of the Black Jackals lightly. The guys could be really exhausting at times, but you still enjoyed watching them, cheering them on, helping them everywhere you could. Four of them seemed to be particularly interested in you, but you didn't think anything special about it, after all, they just want to be nice. Atsumu, who always liked to give you a little tweak in your butt, and was all in all very touchy. Bokuto, who hugged you tightly once a day, while his hand always wandered a little deeper. Hinata, who always picked you up after every game in bridal style and pressed you against him while he was cheering, the hand that held you, was tight on your butt what made you blushing mess. And of course Sakusa. He didn't really like human contact at all, but with you he was somehow different, he liked to talk to you, even sometimes hugging you after a win, but you couldn't see his dirty grin, when he felt your breasts pressing firmly against his chest.

They knew how naive you were and shamelessly took advantage of it to satisfy their craving for you.

But when Bokuto saw you on a free noon with a boy who was pretty close to you, of course he immediately told the others about it and they all agreed they had to make something clear to you.

Sakusa wrote to you late at night. You were a little confused about what Sakusa wanted from you so late.

"Hey y/n-chan, im sorry to bother you at this time but I've left my keys in the lockeroom. Could you maybe come and unlock the door for me?“

You immediately typed that you would be there in 10 minutes, wondering why he didn't just ask the captain. With quick steps you went to the door, where Sakusa was standing alone, and already had you in his sight. "I'm sorry that you had to come here that late.“ He said to you while you tried to unlock the door, but it was already open. With a questioning look, you looked back at Sakusa, who was now standing very close behind you, and pushed you into the lockeroom, and Kick the door shut with his foot.

The lights went on and right in front of you were Atsumu, Hinata and Bokuto, with a big grin. Now you were completely confused. The door was open all the time? And why are the three here? "G-guys? What's going on?", your voice let out your discomfort as you looked back and forth between the four. Atsumu was the first to speak. "Actually you should know why you're here manager-chan." Your question mark in your head got bigger and bigger, just like your eyebrow which got higher and higher. "Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry.“

Sakusa was the next to speak. "Oh yeah you did, but no problem we accept your apology, but we expect a little more than a simple apology." His arms crossed over each other on his chest while he leaned against the wall. "Sure uhm- I'll invite you to an ice cream?" You answered with a questioning undertone, still unsure what you did wrong. "I'm thinking of something better, right?“ Atsumu asked around and everyone nodded.

Now Bokuto came up to you with wide arms to pull you with him and to place you on his lap on a bench while he roamed his hands over your figure and pushed your sweater up, exposing your bra. His hands were warm on the skin, it was comfortable, but the whole thing happened so irrationally. You let it just happen, the hands that you felt on your skin were too pleasant. They were joined by two more on your legs that they spread and put everything that covered you off. It was Hinata's hands that pulled your thighs apart and ran over them once. A voice penetrated your ear. "Ya know, you were a bad manager, we thought you belonged to us. This all."

Bokuto made it clear while he grabbed your tits. "Suddenly I see you with such a stupid schoolboy who probably can't even protect you as we can." His hands were everywhere, one brushed the hair from your face, the other kneaded your chest, which made you wince slightly. As Hinata let his hands get closer and closer to your cunt you had to twitch briefly. "W-what? I don’t know what you mean“, you stuttered while their hands continued to slide over your flesh. The other two men watched with a satisfied smile, lazily touching their cocks trough their sweatpants. "Oh you know what i mean Angel" now he tilted your face and looked deep into your eyes before he pulled you into a lovely kiss. It felt as intimate as a warm summer night. Hinata had meanwhile arrived at your cunt and stretched your lips with two fingers apart to lick between it. It made you moan into the kiss. But Hinata didn’t stop, on the contrary, he became faster and more energetic. You broke away from the kiss to put your head on Bokuto's shoulder and claw your finger in Hinata’s orange hair.

"Mmhm, you like that don't you? Keep going Shoyo, she likes it!"

Bokuto exclaimed. The addressed man lifted his head once to look up and grin. "She tastes so good Bokuto-san!" Shortly afterwards he sank back between your thighs while Bokuto played with your nipples. Your moans could not be held back so you put your hand over your mouth to hide them, but your hand was quickly pulled away. "Let us hear you Princess." Bokuto mumbled. And while the two kept going you noticed how your climax was getting closer and closer, it only needed a little push. This push came when the man behind you now attacked your neck and sucked tight. Your body hunched up, your hands clenched in Hinata's hair.

Atsumu couldn't take his eyes off you during the whole process, caught in your noises and movements. Your breathing had quickened and your senses were slowly coming back. Hinata slowly got up to take off his shirt. Your gaze slid over him. His built wasn’t that bad. Your hands clenched behind you around the neck of Bokuto who now slowly sat you down on the floor.

"I think it's our turn isn't it?" Atsumu now came into it. You totally forgot about him and Sakusa. Bokuto pouted as he had just taken off his boxers and his hard cock bumped against his stomach. Your mouth watered. Now Sakusa was in front of you and blocked your view. What you didn't notice, he was already naked just like Atsumu. This time your gaze wandered down and back up to Sakusa‘s face. He smiled a little bit.

"Come on, be a good girl and get on my cock," said the black-haired now while he sat down on the floor. You nodded lightly and crawled over him. His hand led his penis to your entrance, and slowly rubbed it against your cunt, back and forth.

"Please fill me up Sakusa!" you moanded, too desperate to be filled up.

"You sure?" he answered with a raised brow. You nodded to him, and he sank into you in one motion which let your eyes cramp together and your hands drawn together on his chest. He let out a loud, almost bestial moan. You didn't notice that suddenly behind you was Atsumu until he put a hand on your back and pushed you down to Sakusa.

"I need a place too baby.“ He smiled at your questioning face. But when he slowely rubbed his dick an the same entrance you and Sakusa were connected, you shook your head immediately. "No there's no place for you Ats-"

but he already sank in you right beside Sakusa's cock. He had too groan because of the friction of Atsumu's cock. It burned really bad, it was just too much filled up right now. Just not that there were two in you at the same time, they weren't really that small, which didn't made the whole thing easier. Fortunately, Atsumu gave you a little time to get used to the new feeling until he built a slow pace, while Atsumu’s hand caressed your shoulder blades. "Fuck- so tight." Sakusa hissed while his hands were grabbing on to your hips.

"Oh baby, how long we dreamed about that, to make you out lil 'slut just for us. Well-fuck, we have to learn a lot but your doing great right now." the blonde setter behind you groaned while he picked up the pace and perfectly kissed your cervix every time. Your brain could not process the information, it was too absorbed to notice the two cocks in you. Also Sakusa tried to generate a few thrusts, and your body jolted on instant. Your face was suddenly turned to one side by pulling your hair to see Hinata looking down at you while his cock glistened with pre-cum right in front of your face. "Take it." he only commented while he buried his hand in your hair a little tighter. Your mouth opened to let him in, and he took advantage of it by picking up a quick pace right away. He used your mouth like you were just a doll. You had to spit, and cough while he was totally abusing your throat. Your hand was suddenly put around another penis, which declared itself to be Bokuto, who looked at you with a pout. He probably feels left out. So your hand picked up a pace as best it could and slid up and down his thick length.

Your tongue rolled the length of Hianata‘s cock back and forth over the tip, sometimes having to let out a moan, which made your mouth vibrate. Hinata's head was in his neck and his hand tightened in your hair. "So your pretty mouth can be used for more," groaned Hinata. Your last final lick made him groan, while he spilled is cum in your throat. You had to cough, a little bit spilled out of your mouth, while the other half went down your throat. His hand released your hair, and he sat down, to relax.

Atsumu's thrusts became more and more precise and hard, which brought you closer to your second orgasm. Your hand was still around Bokuto, who had to howl loudly as your hand was getting faster and faster. And when he turned your chin in his direction, his cum went in your face and upper body. It dripped all over your body and Bokuto looked at you with a satisfied grin. But now you felt your climax approaching, especially when Sakusa's hand suddenly came to your breasts.

Your eyes rolled back, your hands clenched in the bicep of Sakusa and with another sharp thrust came another wave of euphoria. Your walls tightened around the two as your strength slowly left your body. As you were about to fall forward, a hand held you around your neck. It was Atsumu who now held you up and pushed himself further into you. Sakusa who thrust into you again came all of a sudden, and fucked his whole load into you. "Fuuuuck- so tight." He hissed while he made sure to fuck all his load in you. Atsumu who felt everything, had to groan as well, while he looked down where you two are connected. Sakusa‘s cum dripped from you onto his cock. However, everything was getting too much for you, you howled softly, you were too sensitive at the moment after two orgasms. "Dont worry, I hurry up." Atsumu groaned, and in fact after the next thrust he came into you too. Both now pulled out, and the two loads of cum just dripped out of you. The sudden emptiness let you groan. Your body was gently passed on, but you didn't notice that, your senses were blown away.

Bokuto was suddenly in front of you and looked at you with a shimmering and excited face. You only now noticed that you were on his lap, his length lying tense against you. How could he have had so much stamina?

He picked you up by your waist to lower you on top of his member. Your hands automatically slid to his shoulders to give you a little strength. He had to groan, "Fuck you are still so tight even though you only had two cocks in you." He groaned while his hands cramped on your hips. "I want her too Bokuto-san" Hinata pouted behind you, his length in his hand. "Take her Ass." Bokuto only commented. Your thoughts said you should say something about it but nothing came out of your mouth. And then his tip was already on the tight muscle ring, and penetrated without any preparation. It made you howl. "Shhh, baby come on be a good girl, alright." Bokuto whispered softly in your ear while his hand ran soothingly over your back. But it got tighter as Hinata pushed further and further, until you noticed that he was completely inside. It was an uncomfortable but kinda satisfying feeling, even if you had already two orgasms behind you. Now Bokuto raised you again to get you on the two cocks up and down. At the beginning slower, but after he saw your face to make sure your okay he was going faster. When Hinata‘s hand clapped on your ass cheek you had to groan loudly, out of nowhere you were completely horny again.

"Your doing Great." Bokuto groaned, he sank in and out of you, while his tip kissed your point perfect. His balls slapped against your skin, and Hinata groaned behind you while he held your butt open to see where you two are connected. ,,She‘s so perfect, our little manager.“ he moaned, while he thrusted into you. You were a moaning mess, full of cum and no strength in you anymore. It was humiliating and you never imagined that, this would ever happen.

His pace became faster and more hectic, so that you couldn't hold out for long until you reached the climax for the third time and just let yourself go. It was liberating to finally untie the knot. Your walls cramped around the two, you kind of sucked them into you. Bokuto seemed to be getting too much and load his cum into your cunt. His hips stuttered, while his hands were still on your hips. you would very likely have red marks tomorrow. Now only Hinata was left who did not wait long and came on your ass and back. You felt dirty, used, you just wanted to wash yourself and lie in your bed, but what you didn't know, this was not the last round, because Atsumu came up to you again with a big grin. The night went on for a few more laps, they persuaded you to be hers, their own little cum garbage to discharge. Until you couldn't say anything, not even your own name. Now after a week, they had you perfectly under their control, their own little manager slut. They knew what you wanted to do every time you accidentally let something fall and tried to pick it up from the floor and your skirt slipped up higher than necessary, how you accidentally brushed them across their crouch when you walked past them. You became her own little slut, and whether you would ever get out of there remains to be doubted.

#tw.dubcon #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #dark haikyuu #bokuto smut #sakusa smut #Atsumu smut #hinata smut #msby jackals smut #haikyuu dubcon #Atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x reader #smut haikyuu

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1kook · 3 years

Text

commercial break ; EIGHT

this is part of my netflix & chill series! takes place a little after part 7 :)

SUMMARY You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same. WARNINGS unprotected sex, nipple clamps, overstimulation, pretty pet names for jk, oc is so fckin horNEE, both have a high sex drive, oc is obsessed with the koobies MISC flashbacks to jk’s ex gf yes you read right!, there’s backstory yuck, taehyung the bestie, jk is just so happy where he is now <3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.9k

NOTES finally after six months..... we get a glimpse of jk’s life pre-netflix n chill 🥶 also i just rlly wanted to write jk wearing the nipple clamps hehe

Taehyung had warned him about this.

“As hard as it is to believe,” he had said one night during their first year of university, haphazardly parked outside of a Wendy’s at three in the morning. Jungkook was trying to finish an assignment— early, always early —when he had been abruptly hauled to fulfill Taehyung’s spicy chicken sandwich craving. “Girls are hornier than guys.”

Jungkook remembers it so clearly.

He had chuckled, had harbored this feeling of contentment, of belonging, with his best friend beside him, talking about the most mundane things. “No way,” he had said. He had only broken up with Haerim last month; his first girlfriend, his first heartbreak, all in his first year of college. So he wasn’t particularly bothered with women at the moment, and he probably wouldn’t be for a long time. He quite liked this life of solitude, the peaceful waves brought upon by the comfort of being alone, the occasional break in the water when Taehyung or Namjoon checked in on him.

Taehyung, on the other hand, had always been concerned with women. A furious nod, huge eyes. “Dude, I swear,” he had exclaimed, and then had launched into a full feature recapture of how horny his then-girlfriend always was. Jungkook had simply listened— it’s what he does best —and nodded along when Taehyung continued his silly ramblings.

He can still remember his thought process.

Of course girls are horny. But Jungkook doubts they’re as horny as him or any of the guys he knew. Speaking for himself, Jungkook knows his sex drive is too high; too high for someone who’s only lost his virginity earlier that year.

Haerim had once told him he asked for too much. And Jungkook understood, really; she was his first, and maybe he got a little too excited in his conquest to try everything, a conquest she wasn’t too keen on joining. “Do you even like me?” she had asked the night they broke up. “Or do you just want to have sex?”

Both, he remembers thinking, but that thought had felt like the wrong answer to give her. Her words had made him squirm, had made him feel so small. Was he asking her for too much? Was Jungkook too much— a handful for her to deal with? Jungkook’s love language had always been physical touch. He thought she understood that.

They parted ways in the most mature way possible. A simple break-up, no hard feelings. Jungkook felt terrible. He had pushed her too far, had asked for too much. They aren’t as horny as guys, he remembers thinking. Or at least, not as horny as Jungkook.

In the end, Jungkook remembers politely disagreeing with Taehyung on the matter.

Until now, nearly four years later, with your hands circling his bare waist.

He’d just finished nailing you into the mattress not even ten minutes ago, had fucked his cock into you until you were screaming so loud your neighbor had banged on your shared wall. Your lips are soft against his shoulder, the prettiest little giggle slipping past them. It’s pitch black outside, your room enveloped in shadows, but the warmth you press against his back is akin to that of the sun’s; Jungkook can’t think of a more fitting comparison. “I was thinking,” you purr, voice like warm honey down his throat. It makes him melt, has his eyes fluttering shut as your hands trace feathery lines against the waistband of his boxers.

“That’s not good,” he manages to murmur, trapping your hand over his belly button. You make this sound, something between a satisfied hum and a moan; Jungkook wants nothing more than to spread your legs far apart and lick you down the middle. You shuffle closer behind him. He can feel your tits against his back, the hardened nub of your nipples.

But it appears Jungkook isn’t the only one interested in nipples tonight.

“The clamps,” you whisper, voice nearly lost under the thrum of the air conditioning, the steady beat of his heart in his chest.

And in that moment, Jungkook truly understands what Taehyung had meant that night.

They sting, terribly so, make him feel like someone is going to rip his nipples out of his chest at any moment. But at the same time, they make his toes curl, make Jungkook grind his teeth together in a feeble attempt to dismiss the pleasure.

On top of that, the look on your face when Jungkook leans over you, the thin metal chain of the nipple clamps touching your chin, is enough to fuel his solo sessions for years to come. “Oh,” you gasp, trembling hand reaching up for the glittering chain.

Jungkook hisses at the tug, accidentally bucks forward into the warm cradle between your legs. It makes you whimper, hand on his shoulder, the other holding onto the cruel device on his chest. “Fuck,” he bites, brows furrowed together as he glares down at you.

“S- So pretty,” you slur, delirious. Jungkook’s not even inside of you, just has his cock resting on your hip. He thinks there might be a droplet of drool clinging to your lips. “Jungkook,” you breathe, finally lifting the other hand to his chest, thumb caressing the pretty gold clamp that is squeezing the life out of his nipple. It feels so good, and Jungkook is so embarrassed.

You let him in soon enough, eyes trained on his flushed chest as he sinks into you. You’re still so loose, so wet and tender from the fucking he gave you earlier, from the two orgasms from before. He can’t comprehend how you’re still asking for more, capable of more, after he had spit in your mouth, bent you like a pretzel, and all but consumed your entire being in his earlier lust.

He reaches the hilt and you tug at Jungkook’s clamps, make his chest jerk forward in surprise. “Fuck!” he chokes, hand on the back of your thigh around him. “Don’t f- fucking do that,” he begs, but it feels so good and you’re so entranced, he hardly thinks you hear him.

It’s like you’re stuck in a daze, tiny mouth opening to release the sweetest little moans, eyes scarily trained on his chest. It’s like you don’t see him, don’t see Jungkook right before you, and for some reason… he adores the feeling. “Look at me,” he whispers, testing the waters.

You spare him a glance, a supportive smile, and then it’s back to staring at his nipples.

It makes Jungkook awfully hard.

In a weird, roundabout sort of way, it’s like he’s being used. Like he’s nothing but a pawn in your lustful schemes, just a visual stimulus to help get you off; in short, it’s a teensy bit degrading. Dismissive. Whatever you want to call it.

His dick twitches at the thought.

And, like always, you’re in perfect step with him. Another tug at the chain, another moan torn from his lips. “So pretty for me,” you croon. It’s his line, you know it’s always been his line. Jungkook pushes deeper into you, but aside from a sinful cry, it doesn’t deter you. A wicked grin crosses your features, hand crawling around his neck to tangle in his locks again. “Tits all pink,” you shiver, tapping the pad of a finger against his nipple. Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head, bucks forward suddenly.

“N- Not pretty,” he growls, pushing you down deeper against the sheets, like maybe they’ll swallow you up and he’ll be saved from your lewd ways. “You’re pretty.”

You chuckle, and then contradict the sweet tone of your voice with a harsh tug against his clamps. Jungkook all but howls, pistons into you until he feels your cervix kiss his tip, call him forward, practically beg for him to fill you whole. “Prettiest boy,” you whimper, tracing his swollen nipple with your finger as if it’ll soothe the prickling sensations that shoot down his spine, makes him rut deeper into you.

Jungkook wants to cum so badly, wants to spill his seed down your insides until it paints every wall, kisses every inch, until it’s physically impossible for you to not be pregnant.

But the worst thing is, Jungkook is so terribly spent from the early events of that night, that the mere thought of coming again sounds like it would be painful. Of course, Jungkook immediately realizes the hypocrisy in his statement— he frequently makes you come various times in one night, sometimes in the span of a few minutes —but he never thought he’d be on the receiving end of this— this— overstimulation.

Your walls squeeze around him, your fingers playfully tugging at the chain in intervals until Jungkook’s back arches forward, hips grinding against your quivering opening. “Cum inside,” you pant, curling one finger around the wretched contraption that seems intent on killing him slowly. He groans, hips snapping at your offer. He wants to so badly, but his toes curl, stomach tightens almost ominously. “Maybe if you do it a second time I’ll get p—“

“Shut up,” he begs, gasping for breath. You manage to laugh through a moan, harshly yanking your fist towards you in a motion that nearly has him crashing down on top of you. “I can’t—“ he shudders, forearms trembling.

“You can,” you encourage, ankles locking together at the base of his spine. His every being feels overwhelmed, head like TV static. His dick throbs, practically begs for another orgasm that Jungkook fears will tear him apart, leave him a boneless pile of limbs for days. And his chest— “look, Jungkook,” you purr, pinching the already tortured nub between your fingers, “look at your fucking tits” —feels like heaven.

It only takes a few more rushed thrusts, your stuttering moans like music to his ears, and a particularly brutal pull of the clamps on his chest, before Jungkook is bursting. And it’s painful, just as he thought, makes him release the most airy, fluttery whine. It’s so embarrassing, and frankly surprising, how high his voice can get, but it makes you beam beneath him. “Oh, such a good boy,” you coo, catching him in your arms when he slumps forward, chest against yours.

He’s as boneless as he predicted, jaw twitching as he tries to gather himself into an acceptable state again. “Fuck you,” he groans, hips jerking with the after shocks of such a stimulated orgasm.

You laugh, carding your hands through his hair. “You were made to wear cute things like that,” you mumble, lips pressed against his temple.

Before he can speak (not that he knows what he’d say), you’re tugging him back by his hair, looking like you’ll eat him alive. He wants you to. “The cuffs,” you murmur, nose knocking against his. “Let’s try those on you next.”

You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give.

But Jungkook is the same. You match him so well, fill the gaps when he’s too shy, lay yourself out when he needs more.

(“You ask for too much,” Haerim had confessed, staring him down from the doorway of his dormitory. The room had always felt small, but today it feels miniature. Like the walls are closing in on him; he can’t breathe. “I don’t think anyone in this world can keep you satisfied, Jeon Jungkook.”)

Your heel knocks against the back of his thigh, and he is suddenly made aware of the trembling lips of your cunt around his cock, still so wet— still so horny. “Again?” you ask so sweetly, fingers dancing across his back.

Jungkook shivers. “Again.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #jungkook fic #bts smut #mine

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taechaos · 3 years

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Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

#textbook love #jungkook drabble #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #networkbangtan #kpopnetwork

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