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subbmissivesuccubus · 4 months

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Bully Part 3

A/n: Happy new year/ New year's eve everyone! As promised, here is part 3. Thank you all for following and supporting me these last few months. Here's to a great year of smut ahead <3 <3 <3 I hope you enjoy your favorite pervy menaces <3

Disclaimer: Gojo X Geto X Fem!Reader. DUB-CON WARNING. READER ENJOYS WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HER BUT IT’S MESSY!!! Blackmail!!! Humiliation. Degradation. Free-use dynamics. Spankings. Public sex. Filming. Gojo gives a stranger permission to touch reader!!!

"Who knew the three of them were...well...like that." Utahime said, immediately gossiping once the taxi started to move. "I can't say I'm surprised though." Shoko said, "They're practically attached at the hip."

The girls and Nanami were sharing a cab to get back to their dorms, gossiping about what had happened during dinner. It was a fun night of drinks and banter, ended with their friend being kissed by Gojo and Geto. When asked about the nature of their relationship, the two men responded by saying they were…fuck buddies.

"She could do better." Utahime said, "I don't get why she's settling for those assholes."

Nanami looked out the window as he allowed the chatter to wash over him, not really paying attention. His mind couldn't help but go back to a week ago when he and Gojo were in class together, the only ones there and he noticed his lock screen...

"Gojo, what the fuck?" Nanami snarled as he looked at Gojo's phone, his screen flashing up as he received a message. There was a naked woman's photo set up as his lock screen, her face out of frame to accommodate her breasts and her spread legs and Nanami didn't want to even think about what was dripping out of them.

"Oh, my bad." Gojo said casually as he picked up his phone, "But she's hot right? She's my new fuck buddy~"

"Not interested." Nanami said, clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Just keep that shit to yourself. Why do you have that as your phone background?"

Before he got an answer, Geto and you walked into the room, asking them what they were talking about and when Gojo showed them the screen, Nanami noted your reaction. He didn't too much of it at the time, assuming your flustered and angered expression was over how vulgar Gojo was but now he wondered...

No. There's no way that was you, right?

Right?

~~~~~

"What the fuck was that?!" you screeched once Gojo closed the door of the taxi, smacking them both across the shoulders, "Why would you say shit like that?! Telling everyone we're fuck buddies- what will they think of me!?"

"It's the truth, right? Stop your bitching." Geto snarled on your left.

"Exactly. I'd rather you use your mouth for something else." Gojo said on your right, his fingers moving to tug at his pants, starting to undo his belt.

"Wh-What the fuck are you-" you sputtered, your eyes flickering over to the taxi driver who seemed to be paying you no mind but-

"Oh, don't worry about him. He works for my family." Gojo said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants before he tapped on the driver’s seat, "Hey, you don't mind if this whore sucks my cock back here, do you?"

You yelped at Gojo's words, face a bright red as you heard the taxi driver chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, boss." he said, not even looking back as he put up the divider, giving the three of them some privacy.

"There we go. Happy?" Gojo asked as he leaned back against the leather seat, his arm reaching up to grab you by the back of your head. You gasped as he gripped onto a handful of your hair and tugged harshly, his hold on your unrelenting as he started to pull your head down to his lap.

"Get to sucking."

~~~~~

Oh God.

You ran your hands through your hair, eyes wide as you went over what happened last night. You had hoped it was a dream but...it wasn't. You got fingered in the restaurant, got kissed in front of everybody by your bullies before said bullies announced that you were all fuck buddies.

They got you back to one of Gojo's penthouses, (the bastard so rich he had multiple houses he could just use whenever he wanted) and once you reached it, having sucked them both off in the taxi, they cleaned you up the best they could before the three of you passed out on the bed. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, too drunk and loopy to do anything else.

Which is how you found yourself in between them, the two men still sleeping as you contemplated moving country and changing your identity.

To your right, Gojo groaned, his eyes pressing tightly as he fought away the need to wake up, moving from his back to his side and throwing an arm around you. You froze as he pressed himself close to you, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "Fuuuuck..." he cursed, frowning, "My head is killing me..."

"Don't make it our problem." Geto groaned, woken up by his own hangover and Gojo's whining. He looked over at you, taking your appearance in, looking quite delectable in Gojo's oversized t-shirt.

"Mmph- gimme those tits..." Geto said as he fisted the hem of your t-shirt before he pulled it up harshly, bunching it all underneath your chin. You gasped as he immediately leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it a few times before he sealed his lips around it. A groan on content left his throat as he started suckling on you gently, truly using your boobs as stress relief for his hangover, the pressure at which he sucked your nipple increasing and decreasing at a slow pace.

"I-I hate you two." you said even as a hand came up to thread through Geto's hair, watching as he closed his eyes and suckled on you. It was honestly a bit soothing, feeling him suckle on you gently and not maul on your nipple the way they usually did. Gojo grunted as he too moved down your body and took your other breast into his mouth, sloppier than Geto but still suckling on you hard enough to make your toes curl.

"Oh God...people are going to think I’m a whore..." you lamented, tossing your head back and accepting your fate, fingers threading through their hair as they used your body. "It's accurate." Geto teased, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before going back to sucking. "Exactly. And who cares what they think." Gojo said, running his tongue over the plush of your breast, making your whole boob wet with his saliva, "You're our whore and that's all you'll be."

"Whatever." you said, not even having the energy to argue. You simply lied down, almost going back to sleep from the sensation of them gently nursing on you. But within five minutes, Gojo was bored.

"Come on, let's go take a shower." Gojo said, pushing himself up with a groan as he got off the bed, but not before grabbing your wrist. Geto growled as Gojo pulled at you, not appreciating being interrupted as he wrapped his arms around you and glared at his friend even as he continued to suckle.

"Don't look at me like that." Gojo said, sticking out his tongue, "You can take her after I play with her."

'Play with her' meant him taking you to the shower and running his hands all over your body like a pervert, squeezing your flesh and washing every nook and cranny as he ordered you to stay still. Sometimes he'd fuck you- other time's he'd simply jerk off and cum on you- always something new with Gojo.

Geto growled, making you shiver at the sensation around your sensitive bud before he pulled away with a pop, a hickey already forming on the fat of your breast.

"Let's all shower together." he said, sitting up as well, "We have a mission today and the principal will kill us if we're late."

Oh right. You were assigned a mission with these two menaces. And if it wasn't tough enough dealing with them before they started fucking you, you can only imagine the shit you're going to have to put up with now. You sighed as the two men grabbed you and lifted you off of the bed, taking the t-shirt off of you and smacking your ass before pushing you towards the bathroom for a very...thorough bath.

~~~~~

"What's with the face?" Geto asked, tapping his finger on his arm as he waited for Gojo to finish getting dressed, "Doesn't it fit?"

"This- I can't wear this! It’s too short!" you protested, tugging at the skirt...if you could even call it that. You were wearing the school uniform but instead of your usual pants, the boys had demanded you wear something else. A mini skirt. The skirt only reached your thighs, even the slightest movements threatening to flash your whole ass.

"Might as well give the curses something to ogle at before they die." Geto teased, looking you up and down, nodding his head in satisfaction.

"Fuck you! I'm not wearing this!" you said, pressing your legs together as you reached for your discarded pants. But before you could even touch the fabric, you felt a sharp pain on your behind, a slap so loud and hard that it made you yelp, the force pushing you face first onto the bed. You whipped your head around, face hot as Geto stood above you, pushing up the skirt a bit to marvel at the red handprint he left behind.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." he said as he pulled his phone out, pointing the camera at you and you couldn't stop him from taking a picture, "But it would be a shame if I accidentally sent this to the schools group chat~"

"...I'll wear it."

"Smart girl." Geto said with a laugh, the sound making your ears heat up in embarrassment. It made you shiver, thinking about all the material they had on you. Pictures, videos, text messages... they continued to torment you and it didn't seem like they'd get bored anytime soon.

And neither would you.

"Get on your knees and keep your face down." Geto ordered, still pointing his phone at you while he used the other hand to push the skirt up entirely, bunching it at your waist and exposing your panties, "Shake your hips. Grind that ass on me."

You gasped as you felt him move forward and press his crotch against your ass, his hardening cock obvious even through the fabric. He started to gently dry hump you, a somewhat bored expression on his face, like it was a chore to use your body to get off. He landed another sharp spank on your butt, reminding you that he was waiting for you to follow orders.

You bit your lower lip, fisting the bed-sheet tightly as you did as he asked, wiggling your hips and shaking your butt against Geto, gasping as you felt him grow harder against you. As you continued to shake, the door opened and Gojo walked in, dressed in his uniform as well.

He whistled as he watched the two of you, noting the redness of your ass cheeks. "Was she being naughty?" he asked, taking Geto's phone from him and continuing to film, giving his friend free reign to humiliate you easier. "She tried to be." Geto said, reeling his hand back and spanking a cheek one more time before he grabbed your hips tightly, "But you know how she is. It's easy to put her in her place."

You yelped as Geto started to thrust against you, pushing his clothed erection against your clothed cunt as he dry humped you, the flesh of your butt rippling against him as he fake fucked you. Somehow, this felt more embarrassing than if he actually stuffed his cock inside you- it was like he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort but still wanted some pleasure.

He humped you a few times before he called it, pushing your hips away from him and making you collapse on the bed, your knees giving out as you panted against the bedsheet, face red hot with shame. You barely processed Gojo coming behind you, sliding his hand up your waist before he whisked your panties off, tugging them off of your legs before throwing them to the side. You were about to spread your legs, assuming the man was either going to eat you out or fuck you but he simply gave your butt a pat before saying:

"Get up. We gotta go."

"Wh-huh?" you babbled, watching as Gojo grabbed your skirt and pulled it down over your butt, the fabric barely covering you. You pushed yourself off of the bed and stood up, ears flushed as you once again were made aware of just how short the miniskirt was. All it took was for one small movement for anyone to see your privates. "Th-then why did you-"

"You thought being spanked was your punishment?" Gojo asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Nah. You don't get to wear panties."

"No- You can't!" you protested, pressing your hand between your legs, trying to pretend like your cunt wasn't gushing.

"Principal is asking if we've left yet." Geto said, interrupting the conversation, "I could send him a picture of you over Gojo's knee, getting your ass spanked and explain exactly why we're running late. Shall we do that?"

"...Let's go."

Gojo’s driver from last night was picking the three of you up and to your horror but not surprise, Gojo ordered you to sit in the passenger’s seat. You could feel the driver’s eyes on you as you tried to get into the car without flashing him, all decency thrown out the window as you practically covered your bare pussy with your hand as you sat down beside the stranger.

"Did you see her pussy?" Gojo asked once he settled down in the back, Geto beside him.

"I'm afraid not, Sir. She was covering herself." The driver confessed, quite expressionless.

"How rude. Hey," Gojo said, getting your attention as he tugged at your ear, "Spread your legs. Let him see your cunt."

You jumped, your ears ringing at his command, jaw dropping to the floor at the shameful demand. You pussy was already wet- "I- that's- I can't do that!"

"Either you spread your legs or I rip that skirt off and toss you out of the car. Your choice."

With a gulp, you took a deep, shaky breath, your heart hammering in your ears before you slowly started spreading your legs. You heard the driver’s breath hitch as your skirt bunched up, completely exposing your puffy pussy to him. He even leaned forward a bit to get a good look at you, making you close your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.

You pressed your mouth close tightly so they wouldn't hear you moan.

"What do you think? Good pussy, right?" you heard Gojo ask, the other two men also leaning forward to look at you like they weren't more than familiar with your body.

"She's beautiful," the driver responded, "so puffy and cute~"

"Why don't you touch her a bit?"

You gasped, back arching off the seat as you immediately felt a hand on your pussy. Your eyes snapped open, watching as the driver had indeed slid his hand between your legs and was touching you. A total stranger was rubbing your cunt!

"She's so wet~" the man teased, a smile on his face as his fingers glided between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness echoing through the car, "Oh, she feels amazing."

"Doesn't she? She's a perfect little fuck toy~" Gojo said, biting his lower lip as he watched you get touched by the driver, a twinge of possessiveness popping up as he eventually ordered him to stop. The man immediately listened, pulling his hand away from your pussy before licking his fingers off your juices, the action making you moan in embarrassment.

"You know where to take us, right?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Get to it. And you," Gojo said, kicking your seat and getting your attention, "Keep your legs spread, got it? Give him something to look at while he drives."

After the long and awkward car ride where you kept your legs spread the whole time, the three of you were dropped off at your location (but not before the driver got to cop another feel). It was an abandoned location, decrepit and having a strong vibe of curses. The cursed energy was so strong it made your skin crawl and your teeth chatter. But you knew you had nothing to worry about. Not only were you strong, but you also had the two idiots with you who were labelled the strongest sorcerers.

It was strange that the curses were not the things that were making you nervous. You tried not to think about how you were used as a toy. As a plaything. As something they can give other people permission to use as they pleased. You couldn’t believe that just seconds ago- a random stranger had their hands on your most private part.

You tried not to think about how much you loved it. "Lead the way." Geto said, giving your butt a pat before you started walking. You didn't need to look behind you to know that they were taking pictures of you, Gojo one time practically putting the camera between your legs and taking an upward shot.

"Stop- I'm trying to focus!" you complained, pulling down the skirt as best as you could which you knew barely did anything.

"You'll only focus once you stop worrying about your outfit. It's just us here, after all." Geto said, "So flash that pussy and find the curse."

"I don't see you two doing any work." you said, cheeks red as you glared at them, "Find the curses, why don't you."

"Nah." Gojo said, idly scrolling through his phone, his glasses reflecting the photos he just took of you.

"The fuck you mean, nah?"

"It's your job to find and defeat the curses today." Geto explained, giving you a sly smile, "Do a good job and we might put in a good word with Yaga. Our recommendation means something, you know."

"...you guys are never that nice." you said, smelling a scheme, "what do you want?"

"We don't want anything." Gojo said, "And as long as you do as you're told, of course. Now push that skirt up and show me your ass."

You huffed, quickly realizing what this mission was going to be.

But hey, if you get a promotion through this...then perhaps you can stick it out.

You gripped your skirt and pulled it up, not having to do much as your peach butt got exposed. The two men laughed and whistled, getting enjoyment and more blackmail material: many pictures of you, in uniform, at a location of curses, flashing your butt. And this was only the beginning.

As you started tracking down the curse, your senses were on high alert and you gradually forgot about the skirt, the shiver you felt as you got in contact with the thick cursed energy making you decide that you needed to focus on the task as hand. You blocked out the two of them following behind you and you blocked out the sensation of your skirt riding up enough for your lower half to be almost bare. When you sprinted up the stairs, feeling a curse nearby, your skirt rode up completely and you only pulled it down once you reached the top.

In front of you was a curse, not a special grade but not weak either. It was a large, disgusting looking thing, oozing power but you knew it was not as strong as you.

"I'm guessing the two of you aren't going to help?" you asked, getting ready as the curse spotted you. "Nope." they responded, Gojo's phone out and pointing at you, taking a video, "all yours."

You didn't have time to respond as the curse suddenly lunged at you, dragging its disgusting body with surprising speed as it gained to attack. You sprinted around it, your body swift and deadly, understanding the way the curse worked in a matter of seconds. You countered every move with your own, slowly weakening it before you exorcised it, the curse dissipating in the wind.

"That was pretty decent, even for you." Geto said once Gojo stopped recording, "you didn't even let the fact that your whole pussy is out stop you from doing the job. Well done."

You looked down and sure enough, from all the running and the dodging and the fighting, your skirt had ridden up once more and your cunt was totally out in the open. You blushed and you quickly pulled the skirt back down, your ears turning red from the embarrassment.

"Fuck. I'm horny now." Gojo muttered as he pocketed his phone, "Hey, hands on the wall- I'm gonna fuck you."

"Wh-" you sputtered, blushing heavily, "But we're busy!"

"Geto can deal with it. My balls come first. Pun intended."

The black haired man rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face as he said: "Fine. But I'm fucking her once I’m back so you better finish by then."

"No promises~"

Not caring about your response, Gojo walked upto you, gripping you by the back of your neck before he pushed you gently against the nearest wall, his other hand pulling your skirt up. Geto walked past the two of you, following the curse as he left you behind to get a pounding.

"Oh, you're so wet, you nasty bitch." Gojo snarked, grinning as he felt you up, his fingers sliding between your folds, "You loved walking around in this slutty little mini skirt, huh? Yeah, I know you loved it. Probably wanted us to fuck you this whole time."

"D-Don't flatter yourself!" you retorted, wincing as he pinched the plush of your butt before he changed your position a bit. "Mhmm. You're real fucking convincing. Now spread your legs. I want to fuck this nasty pussy."

Grabbing you by the hips, he made you bend forward, your palms against the wall and your ass presented to him. He continued to play with your pussy, two fingers easily sliding inside of you while his other hand got to work on his pants. He simply slid them down enough for his cock to pop out, hard, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from the red tip. He tapped it against your ass, staining your skin with his fluid before he took his finger out and pressed the tip against your cunt.

He didn't care for foreplay and he didn't care if you felt good. He was here to fuck and that's what he was going to do. And you were going to take it.

"Oh yeah, that's a good pussy~" he groaned as he started pushing inside of you, his cockhead popping into you easily from how wet and dripping you were. You hated to admit it but running and around and flashing your privates had gotten you hot and bothered, even if you were just exposing yourself to the two men who were more than familiar with your body.

You gasped as he continued to bully his cock inside you, eventually bottoming out and spreading your cunt so deliciously wide. His groans were audible through the empty hallways, both his hands now grasping your hips greedily. With a lick of his lips and no warning, the man started to thrust, starting off a bit slow. Your moans jumped with each thrust, your ass rippling against his hips each time he fucked his cock deep, deep inside you.

Despite the many times you've gotten thoroughly pounded by Gojo, you simply can't seem to get used to his size. His cock was deliciously long and thick and each thrust in had his leaking cockhead pressed up against your womb. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises on instinct, slick dripping down your legs and staining the floor.

"Fuuuuck- I'm addicted to this free use pussy!" Gojo growled as he not so gently smacked your ass, laughing at your squeal, "Bend you over and fuck you anytime- claim you as my personal whore. I fucking love it!"

“Shut the fuck u-u-upppp!” you squealed, his cock curving just right and bumping against your special spot, a rush of pleasure sparking through your spine. Gojo simply spanked you again before he used that hand to grab your hair, pulling at it roughly. You gasped as your head was pulled back, the pain of your hair being tugged at addicting.

“I felt your pussy tighten, bitch~” Gojo snarled with a smirk, “You love being bullied by us so much- it’s so pathetic and I love it.”

“You’re pathe- ohhh right there- right there!”

“Yeah? Here? Little bitch likes it when my cocks hits her right here?”

Gojo angled his hips so he hit your g-spot with every thrust forward, the clap of his hips against your butt practically echoing through the hallway. You couldn’t hold back your moans, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s leaving you as he pounded your cunt like a toy. You didn’t know how long the two of you were there for, fucking in the open, in the middle of the abandoned building. You were so focused on the pleasure that you didn’t notice the pressure of the curses suddenly disappear.

“Are you done yet? It’s my turn to cream her cunt.”

You groaned as Geto walked over to the two of you, wiping his mouth.

“I still got the taste of a curse on my tongue. I’d like to wash it down with her pussy.”

“Fuck- wait for a bit.” Gojo said, panting heavily, sweat marring his brow, “I’m almost done.”

“Nope. I’m not waiting.” Geto said, punching Gojo in the shoulder and ruining his rhythm, “Plus, there’s another curse that needs killing and I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.”

“You want- fuck-“ Gojo cursed, stilling inside you to give Geto a look, “You want me to fight a curse with a hardon?”

“Well, she fought one with her pussy out so I’m sure you can manage.”

Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes before he conceded, “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.”

“I do not. Now get going.” Gojo pulled out of you, the slick sound of it making your body shiver as his erect cock stood tall, covered in your juices. He tucked himself back in his pants the best he could, his dick still straining against his pants as he quickly walked away, a determined look in his eyes. He wanted to finish off this final curse as soon as he could so he could get back to destroying your pussy.

Before you could even blink, a bit dazed from the lack of pleasure, Geto was on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your asscheeks before he pulled them apart and surged forward. Blood rushed upto your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy as Geto stuffed his face between your cheeks. He groaned as he rubbed his face on you for a bit, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh against him like a pervert before he stuck his tongue out and got to licking. He took a long, greedy lick from your clit all the way upto your asshole, teasing your rim before slightly sticking his tongue inside.

Your body shivered, little gasps leaving your mouth at his shameless actions, the man starting to eat you out like a messy meal. He clearly didn't care if you felt good, his movements sloppier than usual, and obviously just wanted a taste. But that didn't stop your body from responding to him, your hips subconsciously pushing out in a silent plea for more, your pussy dripping. He lapped up your juices, drinking you down with a groan as his hands continued to squeeze and pinch at your cheeks.

“Fucking- perfect.” He moaned against you, his words vibrating your clit and making your knees shake, “Just what I needed.”

With a final, toe-curling suck to your clit, he stood up, ordering you to turn around and face him as he started undoing his pants. Your back was pressed against the wall, Geto standing close enough for your chests to almost touch. “Take your top off. Get naked for me.” He groaned as he fished his dick out, giving it a few tugs as he eyed you down like you were a piece of meat. You gulped, heart beating fast in your chest as you hurriedly started to unbutton your blouse, trying to pretend like you weren’t eager.

If they knew just how needy you felt…

Geto suddenly grabbed you by the waist once your buttons were undone before he lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped as he slammed you tightly against the wall, feeling his cock throb against your eager cunt as your legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed onto the cup of your bra before pulling the right one down, exposing that nipple. He bent down and took it into his mouth, the man clearly having an obsession with your tits as he started suckling.

His eyelashes tickled your skin as he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud, giving it a few flicks with the tip before sealing his lips around it and giving it a toe-curling suck. As he suckled, his other hand slid down and grabbed his cock, tapping it a few times against your pussy before he slid in, the glide easy thanks to Gojo’s previous pounding.

“Ah- fuck-yes-“ you gasped out, unable to hold yourself back, briefly registering that all traces of curses had disappeared in an instant, Gojo having finished the job. It was only a matter of time before he rushes to the two of you, demanding to be back inside you.

This was what you were expected to do for them. Be a pair of spread legs for them to use whenever they want- to be fucked silly- to be bred- to be truly and utterly degraded. Maybe Gojo would make you suck his cock. Maybe the two of them would swap places. Or maybe they’d finally fuck your ass.

From the corner of your eye, your vision blurry thanks to the tears from how harshly Geto was pounding into you, you could see someone hurriedly walk towards you, unbuttoning his pants along the way and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh among your moans.

Today was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

#subby writes #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu geto #gojo x reader x geto #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #geto suguru smut #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru

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s-4pphics · 6 months

Text

where we meet. (e.w.)

when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking

“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!”

You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered.

The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.”

“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”

“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled.

She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack.

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper.

Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake.

She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge.

You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery.

As a dishwasher.

Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass.

Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie.

… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.

She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her.

“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart.

She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge.

Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil!

Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.

You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall.

You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door.

You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused.

That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years.

To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner.

Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that.

No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection.

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday.

“You comin’?”

Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go.

“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.”

She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “

“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile.

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!”

You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close.

You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage.

You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!

The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately.

You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin.

You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling.

The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds.

Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work.

“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted.

She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her.

Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom.

You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body.

The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back.

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive.

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from…

Where were you before this?

You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest.

You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears.

The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up.

The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress.

The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation.

All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart.

Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet.

Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal.

You woke up screaming.

“Girl…”

“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.”

Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.”

You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.”

You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover!

Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her.

“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.”

Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.”

She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about?

Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.”

You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face.

“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.”

Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season.

“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest.

“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “

“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.”

“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.

A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too.

You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to.

You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before.

Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her.

You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting.

You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight.

Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body.

The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance.

You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips.

Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long.

You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings.

Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry.

Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught.

Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening.

The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist.

Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—

The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother.

One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up.

But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here.

Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit.

You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night.

You didn’t sleep at all that night.

You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough.

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified.

Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder.

Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think.

Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery.

Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything.

You’re not fucking crazy.

Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night?

Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling.

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least.

You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories.

Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now.

You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop.

You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest.

This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it.

Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed.

Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap.

You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three.

You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired.

Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet.

She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.

You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing.

“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow.

She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?”

“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.”

Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall.

A heavy exhale left her.

“I… Something was…” she stuttered.

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale.

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered.

Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?”

“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?”

More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.”

“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop.

You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup.

That was odd.

The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage.

You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat.

You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.

The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you.

Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life.

But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.

This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby.

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?”

“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes.

“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.”

Family. You almost broke down.

When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.”

You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie.

Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.”

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?”

“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?”

The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept.

“Can you come pick me up?”

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “

“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.”

“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment.

“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders.

“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?”

“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “

“What happened when we were at the club?”

Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it.

“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?”

“I… I told you what happened— “

“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.”

“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “

Celeste shook her head, “No.”

Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint.

“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.”

The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.

“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.”

Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something.

Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood.

The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape.

“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.”

You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride.

Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”

He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him?

He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.”

Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move.

“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin

His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “

“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“

His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you…

“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.

The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers.

“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“

Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system.

The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget.

Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident.

The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs.

You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick.

Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped.

Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged.

Everything around you went dark.

Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear.

Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit.

Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder.

She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it.

“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door.

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face.

Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “

Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out.

After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once.

You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city.

Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care.

Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be.

You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails.

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here.

The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present.

You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall.

You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend.

You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back.

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.

She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.

You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street.

Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her.

Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball.

You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home.

You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present!

I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her.

Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents.

Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered.

Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle.

You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking.

Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist.

The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around.

She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth.

—

Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.

You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers.

You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?

You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight.

Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth.

She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there.

You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.

She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly.

You love me, Ellie… right?

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred.

Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon.

Ellie… d-do you love me?

O-Of course I do—

The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?

—

You were never a rebellious kid.

Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations.

The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you.

You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward.

You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at.

Started drinking.

Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked.

The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe.

You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note.

Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed.

Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous.

Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed.

I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her.

Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks.

You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working.

You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out.

Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain.

See? I can stop whenever I want.

Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay?

The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her.

O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary.

But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night.

—

When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away.

She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered.

Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them.

Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal.

You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later.

When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall.

—

Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center.

You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her.

When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal.

Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off.

You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one.

All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.

—

Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why.

Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor.

The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume.

Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why.

Hm?

D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always.

But you didn’t believe her.

Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you.

The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly.

… Are you fucking drunk right now?

There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw.

She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test.

Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle.

I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much…

Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent.

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night.

You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends.

You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that.

Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had.

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered.

PRESENT

You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire.

Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate.

“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “

The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days.

“What the hell are you doin’ here.”

“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “

“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled.

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second.

“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave.

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you.

She knows. She knew.

“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…”

Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet.

I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak.

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.”

You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor.

“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you.

You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky.

The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps.

The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises.

Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered.

The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic.

Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now.

“Ma’am?”

You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?”

No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.”

Some silence passed before you spoke.

“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping.

Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head.

You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears.

“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums.

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips.

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?

The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins.

You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes.

The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief.

It can’t be.

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!”

No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form.

“Look at me! I love you!”

Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious.

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate.

A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.”

You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight.

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry—

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar.

“I love you more.”

You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you.

It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go.

But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created.

You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered.

Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy.

Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize.

You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown.

Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become.

You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you.

Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight.

The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again.

Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die.

“E-Ellie?”

Silence.

Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for.

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!”

That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence.

“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!”

You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest.

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you.

A dark chuckle left you.

“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?”

You’re awake. And you’re angry.

You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard.

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “

Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open.

A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned.

You’re going fucking crazy.

“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing.

“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room.

You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.”

She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed.

“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?”

Silence.

Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you.

“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “

“Fuck you.”

You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?

“… What?”

“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief.

“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.”

Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—

The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.

Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you.

Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off.

Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you.

Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder.

You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out.

The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere.

You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you.

Ellie… Ellie, please…

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark.

Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips.

You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off.

You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign.

“Miss me?”

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you.

“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!”

What the fuck, what the fuck—

The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be.

Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip.

Is… Did she cut you with that?

Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there.

“E-Ellie?”

She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.”

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed.

Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual?

What the fuck is going on…

She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?”

Her words were hardly registering.

“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!”

She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?”

Other side? “… Am I dead?”

“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue.

“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody.

“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!”

“… I— “

You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—

“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.

“… Why’m I here then?”

She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled.

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly.

“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.”

She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots.

“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…”

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.”

She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles.

The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you.

“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout.

You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls.

“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.”

She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you.

“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking.

You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.

“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids.

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.”

Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—

“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking.

“Oh, she’s starving— “

Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?”

You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching.

“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.”

A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass.

Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin.

… Is… Is she really…?

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin.

“E-Ellie, El— “

Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two.

She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling.

“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her.

You missed her so fucking much.

Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy.

“You wanna watch?”

No, no no please—

Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval.

“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?”

She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you.

“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.

“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns.

“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest.

Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs.

Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?

Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit.

The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk.

You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches.

Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts.

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—

Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved.

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—

You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more—

Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.

The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white.

“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “

You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed.

Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits.

She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy.

She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks.

“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth.

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued.

“So much fun.”

You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again.

But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous.

When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her.

Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there.

Almost.

You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant.

“You’re a bad kisser.”

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned.

“Yes, dear?”

Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke.

“Am… Am I…?”

“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face.

Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up.

“Will… Can I, can I cum?”

“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile.

Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless.

She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air.

Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped.

Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “

“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent.

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself.

The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness.

Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.

Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction.

Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper.

Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?

Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now.

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering.

A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap.

Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building —

Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo.

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids.

You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move.

Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder.

Ellie…

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly.

Ellie… please…

“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose.

I’m so sorry…

“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly.

I miss you so much…

Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused.

The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker.

She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts.

“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest.

I love you… I love you… I love you…

“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “

Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb.

The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance.

Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut.

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you…

Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you.

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!

The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry.

You love me.

She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—

Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles?

You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars.

She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality.

You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk.

You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward!

But you spoke first.

You love me, right?

More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough.

But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it.

Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head.

Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish.

More than anything! More than anything! I love you!

You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes.

Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway.

Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin.

You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed.

You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively.

“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move.

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed.

A sad smile grew on your face.

“Almost did…”

Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly.

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.”

Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened.

Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you.

“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.”

Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over.

The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks.

“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.”

The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.

“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal.

“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.”

You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks.

Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—

Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks.

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head.

I wish I hated you.

You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer.

Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass.

She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered.

Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers.

A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you.

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky.

“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.”

Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming?

“Feels g-good? Yeah?”

Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor.

She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry. Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment.

Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good?

Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet.

Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s.

She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top.

“Your stamina’s fucked.”

Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you.

The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace.

But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her.

Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you.

Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance.

Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake.

“What.”

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.”

You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens.

You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight.

Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls.

A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching.

Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm.

Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck.

You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths.

Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper.

You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder.

It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more.

Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek.

Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass.

You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough.

Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good.

Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again.

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize.

It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow.

The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do.

As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb.

Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours.

You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again.

She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks.

It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it.

Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge.

You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere.

You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her.

Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her!

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy?

She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will!

You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream.

Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first.

You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness.

When you wake, there’s warmth.

You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile.

You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement.

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm.

Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she.

—

‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’

Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous.

To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming.

Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions.

May God be with her family. Have a blessed night.

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us 2 #kinktober #lesbian #demon!ellie #works 𖧧࣪

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thel0v3hashira143 · 3 months

Text

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐄! ❞

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ yuuji megumi gojo nanami n choso ☆ how jjk men act when they have a crush on you!

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ fem!reader, black coded but anyone can read

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: ahhh the comeback post!! let's just say my old works were...less than coherent. but im here and ready to slay the day after 2-ish years!! take these crumbs while i try and find my footing again. stay hot lovies 🎀🎀

yuuji itadori 🌸

my babyyy (sob sob) yuuji would def try to impress you with his athleticism, bc girls like that stuff right? (gojo told him that...save him)

he frequently challenges you to friendly competitions when sparring to showing off his skills.

he def let's you get quite a few hits on him and he may even let you win from time to time (seeing your smile makes getting knocked on his ass worth it)

he might act a bit bashful, but he's straightforward. he knows he has a crush on you so why would he hide it?

expect nice gestures like him wanting to carry things for you, buying you food, watching all your fav movies, ect.

speaking of which, movie hangouts!!!

every friday usually you, megumi, nobara, and yuuji all get together and watch a movie

buuuttt if he's feeling especially brave he'll invite you to his dorm to watch the newest movie in your favorite series! (yes, he keeps track of when they come out)

he loves that it becomes y'alls thing and he loves it even more when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off <;33

he also gives hella compliments cause something in my gut says his love language is words of affirmation.

anticipate many "isn't [name] just the coolest?" or "you look great today [name]!"

im telling you he could never run out of nice things to say to you, whether it be about your looks or personality

as soon as he realizes he likes you he takes down those pin up girl posters in his dorm

he also obviously thinks you're more beautiful than jennifer lawrence argue wit ur mama

he is also obviously a personality over looks guy so dont act surprised if you see him looking at you with a lovesick grin if he catches you doing something kind for someone

expect him to confess his feelings sooner rather than later

"yeah, why wouldn't i have a crush on [name]? shes beautiful and badass! but don't tell her, okay?"

megumi fushiguro 🌸

megumi, unlike yuuji is quite reserved, even with his friends

honestly gives no indication that he likes you at all 💀💀 he stares at you pretty intensely at first (to admire your beauty) but quickly catches on that you think its weird..

once you two get closer though, megumi would frequently express his crush through small gestures

he strikes me as a reader so i can see him recommending his favorite books to you or even lending you some of his.

you two exchange books often and he highlights quotes that remind him of you

i can also see book shop hangouts where you two sit and read together in some small bookshop he found in the city.

(he's just admiring you read)

he's not a huge compliment/affirmation guy but quality time is a big one for him

whether it be on missions, sparring, or out with the rest of the first year's, he enjoys any time he can have with you.

megumi is also very protective but like...subtly

he secretly watches out for you during missions, making sure you're safe without drawing attention to it

he'll insist you two split up but send one of his divine dogs to accompany you to wherever you go.

even when you're out and about in tokyo he always likes to stay close to you. he follows you around (not in a creepy way more like a lost puppy way)

follows you into stores you like even if he has absolutely no interest.

all in all he's just a shy guy who's whipped for you <3

"i enjoy spending time with you. a lot."

teen!satoru gojo 🌸

gojo...you bastard...(affectionate)

erm ngl i can def see him being a bully to you at first...

not like a bully bully but he def teases you a lot and it gets under your skin sometimes. (you hate him)

but in reality hes jus a spoiled litte rich boy in love.

once he realizes his feelings he still pokes fun at you sometimes, but tones it down hard and turns on his charm.

gojo's approach is confident and playful. he teases you, always with a charming grin, creating a dynamic that keeps things lighthearted and enjoyable.

he'll find excuses to spend time with you, whether it's offering to train together

unlike yuuji he doesn't care if he likes you this son of a gun will NOT let you win istg

it's like he's trying to rile you up, saying ridiculously cheesy one liners as he dodges all your attacks.

"thats the best you got? oh [name], we'll never get to be together if i keep beating you!"

one thing he does enjoy doing with you however, are snack runs.

gojo is a big back in disguise with too much money to spend so you already knows most of that goes towards food.

he has a huge sweet tooth so i can see you guys browsing multiple sweets shops in the city. if he sees you even look at something for too long he'll buy 10 of them.

every trip you guys both leave with full bellies and full hearts <3

gojo wants to be around you, and he makes sure it's fun for you both

his confession is likely to be straightforward. ccompanied by his trademark smile and his sparkling blue eyes peeking from his shades.

"you know, i've been thinking... i'm kind of into you. what do you say we make things a bit more interesting?"

teen!kento nanami 🌸

my emo boy ❤️‍🩹

nanami, with his composed demeanor, expresses his feelings (though you were unsure if he even had any) through thoughtful actions.

he remembers every. single. detail. of anything you say to him.

your favorite attist dropped an album today? he already bought you the cd/vinyl. you never got a chance to go to the store to get your favorite snack? he went 2 days ago.

he revels in the fact that he knows so much about yousnd the surprised look on your face gets him every time.

(haibara claims he's seen nanami smile at you multiple times but he vehemently denies it.)

despite his serious appearance, he'll occasionally crack dry jokes when it's just the two of you

look at that man and tell me he doesn't have a dry sense of humor 😭😭

you help him to relax and he feels he can truly be himself around you. when you two are alone its like hes showing a different side to his personality.

like megumi, i can see quality time being a big thing for him since attending jujutsu high leaves him quite busy

hes also not a huge talker so whenever you two do spend time together its probably somewhere intimate like your dorm or the library.

no words, just vibes. which he appreciates since he's around a bunch of yipper yappers all day.

nanami's confession is understated but sincere.

"i appreciate the time we spend together. it's made me realize there's something more i feel..."

choso kamo 🌸

my babyyyy no. 2 (i need him biblically)

let's get one thing straight tho. choso is a curse. in my opinion curses have no idea of love in a healthy, positive way so let's just say bb is confused.

he obviously knows what love is. he loves his brothers but he doesnt wanna kiss them...and cuddle them...

he goes to yuuji for advice (was it a bad idea? perhaps.)

"bro you totally have a crush on [name]!"

"a crush?"

after some further investigation hes pretty much got the gist of it.

one thing he becomes quite fond of doing is giving you small gifts from his missions.

these aren't typic gifts persay, like food, clothing or jewelry but more like knickknacks such as shells or rocks.

these tokens become a way for him to express what words might fail to convey.

i headcannon choso likes nature documentaries and after seeing that penguins mate for life by gifting a rock to their mate he's hooked.

idk but i also feel like he's very touchy.

he always has an eye on you in public and ik he does the thing where he guides u with his hand on the small of your back or he locks pinkies with you UGHHHH

with him being protective, he also subtly keeps an eye on you during missions.

he's not one to voice his concern directly but prefers to ensure your safety from the danger.

choso's confession might catch you off guard, but it's filled with honesty and sincerity.

"i've found myself caring about you more than I expected. it's strange..."

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ omg i actually really like this...(watch me hate it in a week) but reqs are open!! i have 1 or 2 more pieces planned to get me in the swing of things but take this before then. love y'all!!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

#Words of the Love Hashira 💗#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #x black fem reader #black writers on tumblr

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kitten4sannie · 1 year

Text

𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇

pairing: husband! san x fem! reader

genre: smut, fluff

summary: when san is forced to work overtime on your birthday, he wants to make up for it.

w.c: 4k

warnings: switch! san, pussydrunk san, switch! reader, praise, pet names, dirty talk, brief spit kink, begging, teasing, strength kink, oral (f receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, crying, creampie, breeding kink, brief cockwarming

a/n: this is a birthday present for my lovely best friend nora @cheollipop ilysmmm <3

song recs: get you by daniel caesar, yeah i said it by rihanna, aphrodite by rini

Masterlist

➽───────────────❥

When San’s boss set a fresh stack of files on the desk inside his already cramped cubicle, San found himself opening his mouth to protest, “Sir, it’s already half past 8…Do you think I could possibly work on this tomorrow? It’s my wife’s birthday today, and I wanted to–”

“San, San, San,” his boss interrupted with an air of arrogance, setting his hands down on the salaryman’s tense shoulders. “We all have to make sacrifices in this company, you know? You’re not the only one. I’m sure your wife will understand when she sees the extra dollar signs in your paycheck at the end of the week.”

San sat still in his swivel chair, not letting the rage seep past his eyes, envisioning all the ways he could retaliate against the older man standing above him. His hand nudged his stapler. He glanced at his favorite coffee-stained mug that you gave him; it had various adorable cats painted on the porcelain. It’d probably feel immensely satisfying to smash it into the man’s head, but he would never give it up in such a way. Violence was never the answer, of course. Though he was extremely tempted to just rip his computer away from its cords and toss it at the man, he wouldn’t. He needed this job, and he needed to get this sudden influx of work done so that he could get home to you.

Eventually, San blinked up at the man, replying like a robot that had just been rebooted, “On it, boss.”

“That’s lovely to hear. That’s why you’re my favorite employee, Sannie boy,” the man chimed, smacking San’s shoulder in an overly aggressive manner.

Once San gave his boss a tight-lipped smile and a double thumbs up that turned into middle fingers as soon as the man turned his back, he pulled his phone out to dial your number. “Baby?” he mumbled out in an extremely soft voice as soon as you picked up.

“Hey, hun,” you replied excitedly, sliding your phone into the space between your shoulder and your neck so that you could put your cake into the fridge, sticking a candle into it. “Are you on your way home? I picked up a red velvet cake for us to share. It’s got this really fancy buttercream and these little gold flakes sprinkled all over it. I asked the guy and it’s real 24k gold! Isn’t that cool?” Noticing the overwhelming silence in the receiver, you closed the fridge and pressed your back to it. “San, are you okay?”

Opening one of the files and staring down at the endless strings of text informing him of sales percentages and various investments from clientele, San sighed, “I have to work overtime, baby. That old bastard isn’t letting me leave until I get all this shit done. I’m…” Frustrated at his lack of control over the situation, he raked his fingers through his gelled-up hair, not even caring that some of the raven strands began to stick out. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m really, really sorry…”

“San, it’s okay. It’s okay, love,” you said with a warmth that would hopefully give him some reassurance, hearing him let out a small sigh into your ear. “It’ll still be my birthday when you get back, okay? So just take a deep breath, get the work done, and come home to me.”

San opened a new document up on his computer to get started, slowly drawing air into his lungs and letting it out, smoothing his hair out a bit. He smooshed his cheek against his phone, allowing you to tell he was pouting when he answered as gently as possible, “I love you so much, baby. I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can to tell you in person.”

Feeling a smile tug at your lips, you idly rolled your wedding ring around on your finger, grateful to have such a sweet angel of a man as your life partner. “I love you too, darling. I’ll see you soon.” Pushing your lips together, you lowered your phone to your mouth to add, “Mwah.”

“Mwah,” San returned instantaneously, a similar smile forming on his face, much more relaxed than he was a few minutes ago. Once you exchanged goodbyes, he gave his knuckles a good crack and admired his silver wedding band for a few seconds before getting to work.

It was a little past 11 when San finally pushed past the front door and slid out of his work shoes, meeting your gaze from across your shared apartment, seeing you sitting at the kitchen table by yourself with the cake positioned in front of you and a small lighter laying on the table. “Baby,” he let out in a sigh of relief, dropping his suitcase onto the floor and walking in your direction to pull you up from the seat into one of his famous tight bearhugs, enveloping you in his warm, inviting scent. “Happy birthday. I love you.”

“Mm, thank you, love. I love you too.” Just as you were about to ask him about work, he clutched the back of your head and pressed his lips against yours to give you a kiss, one that was gentle at first, but grew more firm in the next passing seconds. Despite missing the taste of his lips when he pulled away, you caressed his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs over his sharp jaw, feeling the scruffiness of the facial hair that was growing in. “How was work? Shitty?”

“Shitty,” he echoed, just as he pressed his mouth to your own jaw, leaving kisses along it, as well as your cheeks, your nose, your neck, and basically anywhere he could feel your warm skin against him. “But I’m home now, so I couldn’t be happier.” San brought his mouth to your forehead to give it a long kiss, running his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to light the candle or should I, baby?”

“You do it for me,” you said, squeezing his shoulders a bit, before sitting back down in the chair, watching as San sat in the one adjacent to you.

When you handed him the lighter, San brought it to the candle sitting inside the personal sized cake and lit the wick, admiring the way the flame illuminated your pretty face. “You’re so beautiful…” he sighed out, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, continuing to admire you, feeling as though he might begin to melt like the candle below. “My beautiful baby.”

“Stoppp,” you whined softly, heat rising to your cheeks, still barely able to handle the way San looked at you after all these years — with such intensity visible inside his brown eyes that you wholeheartedly believed him when he said that he wanted to give you the entire world. You were his muse, after all. His angel from above. His everything.

“Never.” San gave you a gentle smile as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss the top of your hand, singing a soft rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ in his silky smooth voice, bringing a shy smile to your own face. Once he was done, he pressed more kisses into your skin, running his thumb over your knuckles as you gazed back at him. “Make a wish, love.”

“Why make a wish when I have everything I want now?” you asked, watching as he played with the wedding ring on your finger, the candle below beginning to melt into the frosting.

San let out a sigh, pressing his warm cheek to your open palm, looking at you like he did years ago when you had first met, unbearably love-struck, lips parted and twinkling eyes full of devotion for his beloved. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he purred, guiding your hand downwards to press a kiss onto the pad of your thumb and following your intense gaze to his mouth. “But, right now, in this moment, isn’t there something you desire?”

A familiar feeling of warmth flooded your core, thoughts of San taking care of you in ways only he was capable of suddenly urged you to blow the candle out. You knew what you needed. Of course, San was a devoted husband in every sense of the word, but in the bedroom, he brought that to a staggering degree, always willing to please you in every way he could, loving when you used him for your own pleasure, just as much as he loved giving it to you without any restraints.

“What did you wish for, love?” San inquired, sticking one finger into the cake to scoop up some frosting and holding it up to your mouth, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You accepted his finger inside and sucked the sweet cream off of it, emitting a small ‘mmm.’ “I want you on your knees, Sannie. I want you to please me.”

“Anything for you, my love.” San lowered himself onto the ground before you and began to loosen his tie until he could take it off, feeling a pleasurable heaviness envelop his body now that he was on his knees for his one and only. There was no place he’d rather be. After taking in a deep breath to steady his heartbeat, San began to slide his hands up one of your legs, lifting it up to leave a trail of kisses up to your thigh, stopping now and then to admire your soft skin and the intense gaze you were giving him. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good, my love. I’ll give you everything I have…” he murmured in between kisses, slowly reaching up underneath your dress to hook his fingers into your panties.

“You promise?” you teased in a soft voice, lowering your other foot down to press into his crotch, the pad of it rubbing along his work pants, feeling the solid outline of his cock pressing against it.

“I promise, baby,” he replied, his lips forming his signature pout, unconsciously spreading his knees apart, about to pull your panties from your hips when you pushed your foot down a bit harder, earning a small gasp from him, his fingers resting against your waist instead of continuing his quest to strip you.

Biting into your lower lip, you relieved the pressure you had on him, slowly standing up out of the chair and just barely lifting up the front of your dress to give him an upskirt view. “Use your teeth.”

“Yes, angel. Whatever you want, I can do…” San swallowed down some of the saliva that persistently tried to overflow and drip down his chin, gingerly kneading his hands into your soft thighs, pressing his cheek to it, looking up at your clothed pussy, his cock already throbbing away inside his pants. He moved his head up underneath your dress and got the lip of your panties in between his teeth and slowly pulled it downwards, audibly groaning as he witnessed a string of arousal drip from your heat and down your inner thigh.

Watching him with bated breath, you resisted the urge to grab the back of his head and fuck his face, desperately wanting to hear him whine and beg for you to come inside his mouth. “You can lick it up, Sannie. Go ahead…”

Your husband’s eyes practically twinkled with gratitude, choosing to pull your panties down the rest of the way and off of you, releasing them from his teeth and holding them against his crotch, rubbing them against his cock as he dragged his tongue up your inner thigh, catching your arousal on his tongue. “Fuck, baby, you taste so good. Let me eat your pretty little pussy, angel. Please, I need it.”

“I think you can handle waiting a little longer, don’t you think, Sannie?” you mused teasingly, reaching down to press your pointer finger up into his chin, chuckling at the soft gasp that escaped his glistening lips. He was always like putty in your hands. Always ready to worship at your feet if you simply said the words. While that left you breathless, what you really relished was when you pushed him so far that he simply couldn’t hold himself back anymore and gave you his all, even if that meant passing out from pure exhaustion afterwards.

“Yes, my love, I can wait. I can wait for you.” Your husband rested his hands down on his upper thighs, his teeth instantly digging into his lip as you took a step closer, your dripping pussy directly in front of his face.

Holding your dress up with one hand, you used the other to spread your pussy apart, your slick dripping down your inner thighs, making sure to push your fingers together and rub them in an up and down motion, making small wet sounds with your movements. “You want your wife’s pretty pussy in your mouth, don’t you, Sannie? You want to taste me on your tongue? Lap my cum up until you’re drowning in it? Is that what you want?”

San felt like he was going to lose his mind, gripping his work pants so tightly, he feared he might tear into them, unless his cock burst out of them first from how painfully hard he was. “Please, baby. I need you so fucking bad,” he choked out, tears stinging the corners of his coffee-colored eyes, resisting the urge to smash his face in between your legs when you grabbed him by the hair and angled his head back, whimpering softly at the grip you had on him. He wanted to be good for you. He had to be good, but he needed you on his tongue like he needed oxygen.

Once San uttered one last desperate ‘please’ in such a soft, tiny voice, you finally gave in, holding your dress up slightly with both hands and spreading your legs a bit more for him, feeling your core tighten and pulse at the sight of your husband’s teary eyes. If you were an angel, then he was heaven itself, and he probably saw you the exact same way. “You’ve been a good boy, Sannie, so come and get it.”

Like a puppy hearing the dinner bell, San was on you, pushing his head up underneath your dress, his mouth connected to your cunt, tongue lapping at your wet folds like it was his one and only mission, hands kneading into your thighs out of habit. “Thank you, my angel. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he moaned against your heat, slurping your arousal into his mouth and swallowing it down like you were an oasis and he was a weary traveler in search of a drink. He licked, and licked, and licked, not even thinking, before he reached behind you with his outstretched arms to pull the chair closer, guiding your hips downwards forcefully enough so that you had to sit down on the cushion below.

“S-Sannie,” you gasped, surprised by his sudden display of strength, your brain going a bit fuzzy as he shoved your thighs apart, then held them up and out of his way so that he could bury his face deeper in between them. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

San took a second to give you a dimpled smile, nuzzling your slippery inner thigh with his cheek, pressing a small, lingering kiss to your warm skin. “So bad, baby. You drive me fucking crazy.” His tongue was hot and wet against your cunt, practically melting against your folds, taking long, deliberate swipes up to your clit, before zoning in on it and sucking on it with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure through your lower half.

Unable to hold your voice back, you began emitting breathy, stunted moans, involuntarily bucking up into his mouth the more he licked and sucked at your clit, feeling your cheeks burn more and more the longer he gazed into your eyes. Though you swore you were used to the intense eye contact that San preferred to have with you, he still always managed to make you feel shy.

San took another quick breather to comment breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So sweet for me. So perfect.” Taking in your pretty flushed face and glazed-over eyes, he squeezed your thighs in between his thick fingers. “Come here, baby.” He pushed your thighs farther apart and leaned upwards, taking your chin in his grasp and pulling you into a much-needed kiss. Once you let him into your mouth to explore it with his arousal-coated tongue, San lowered his hand from your chin the eagerly rub your pulsing clit around in quick, deliberate circles with his thumb, automatically bringing two digits from his other hand to your cunt, your greedy hole sucking them up to his knuckles, not hesitating to piston them in and out of you. Your muffled moans and whines were like an angelic hymn that made him want to build you a shrine and worship you day and night on his aching knees like he was doing now. Once your legs hooked around his small waist, he quickened the pace of his digits, your wetness now so palpable it was beginning to spill out of you and down his veiny forearm, emitting a knowing ‘mm-hmm’, breaking the kiss as soon as you began to tighten up around him. “Angel’s gonna come for Sannie, huh?”

“Uh-huh, gonna come, Sannie,” you breathed out, licking at your lips and tasting the remnants of yourself on your tongue, swearing you were about to come instantly at the visual of your husband quickly lowering himself back down to your cunt to slurp at it, licking near the outline of his thrusting fingers and back up to your puffy clit, eyeing it longingly, before pursing his lips and spitting your arousal back onto it, only to attach back on it like a magnet.

As soon as he curled his fingers up and rubbed at your g-spot, hitting it in a way that had you fighting the urge to let your eyes roll all the way back into your skull, San spoke up, “That’s it right there, huh, baby? Right there?” As soon as you cried out for him, your throat hurting from how dry it was, San finger-fucked you into a state of pure ecstasy, not stopping until your arousal began to spray out of you and into his open mouth, coating his tongue. “Oh my god, look at you, baby. You’re squirting for me. You’re such a good girl.” He lowered his mouth onto your twitching cunt, not able to prevent a bit of drool from dripping past his swollen lips, lapping up the rest of your squirt with a few slow, lingering licks.

Once you had enough time to gather your bearings and catch your breath, San sat up and leaned in close to you, asking huskily, “Is there anything else my princess desires?”

“Your cock, Sannie. Give me your cock,” you answered instantly, not even caring about how desperate you sounded. You were desperate, and you knew San was too, given that he hadn’t touched himself a single time.

Just as quickly as you had answered him, San was already lifting you up into his arms and laying you down onto the kitchen table, spreading your legs apart and fumbling with his leather belt to take it off. Once it hit the floor with a thud, San pulled his aching cock out and slapped it down onto your pussy, watching some slick leak out. "Are you ready? Is my princess going to take all of my cock in this pretty little pussy?"

You nodded as quickly as you could, ready to drool over the thought of finally being filled by him, knowing you’d probably come as soon as he did.

San slowly moved his hips forward and back, sliding his thick length across your needy cunt, the slick sounds of your arousal making him groan. "Let me hear you say it, pretty girl. Tell Sannie how bad you want it."

"I need it so bad, so, so bad.” Just as San’s cockhead began to stretch out your hole, your plush walls clenching around him, he pulled out, leaving you empty and ready to beg on your knees just like he had done earlier. “I need your cock, Sannie, please. I want to be full just for you. Please, please, let me have it. I’ll be such a good girl for you, I promise!”

"God, you’re so cute when you’re begging for me, princess," San sighed longingly, caressing and rubbing your thighs with his thumbs, burning the image of your teary-eyed gaze into his memory. “But, don’t worry, I’m here. I’m going to fill you up, okay?” Smiling at the sight of your furious nods, he pushed back inside of you, inch by inch, making you let out a long, almost relieved moan, not stopping until your lower halves were pressed together.

Now that he was being squeezed by your tightness, San felt something switch on inside his brain, no longer concerned with teasing you, but instead overwhelmed by the desperate need to fuck you until you were a crying, cum-filled mess for him, and him alone.

Loud, wet slapping sounds began to echo throughout the kitchen, along with the thud, thud, thud of the kitchen table being rocked back and forth into the tile flooring below. “You’re so good for me, baby, so good,” San praised into your ear, his warm body flush against yours, slamming his hips into yours, appreciating the way you had your legs hooked around his small waist, locking him in place.

“Sannie,” you cried out, unable to stop pulsing around your husband’s thick length, feeling like you would go crazy from the way it was pounding into you. You reached your hands out, smiling when he immediately laced his fingers with yours, holding your hands down against the cool surface of the table. “I’m gonna come. It’s spilling out.”

“I’m going to come too, my love. Let’s come together,” he encouraged, squeezing your fingers against his own, slowing his pace down and fucking you in a more deliberate way, his thrusts slow and deep, hitting your sweet spot every time. Just as you began to mewl and babble from the overwhelming pleasure, San pressed his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans just as you swallowed his choked ones. It felt so good, he didn’t even realize when he started to cry, his hot tears dripping down his cheeks and landing onto your heated face. “I’m going to fill you up and make you a mommy, sweetheart. Make you so full of my love. So, so full for me.”

“Yes, please, Sannie, fill me up.” Just as your body shook and trembled, your cum pouring out of you and coating your joined flesh, San’s hot load came pouring into you, filling you up to the brim like always.

“Here it comes, angel. Just for you. I love you so much,” he choked out, his voice raw and throaty from how hard he was cumming, blinking a few more tears away to focus on your pretty face, slowly going soft, but staying inside you, keeping you full of his warmth and love.

“I love you too, Sannie. So much,” you replied wholeheartedly, wiping one of his tears away as you brought him into another kiss, this one as gentle and sweet as the love he always gave you.

Slowly breaking the kiss, he pressed one onto your forehead, bringing you into a long hug, not planning on letting you go. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

➽───────────────❥

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez #ateez smut #san #ateez san #san smut #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #san x you #san x y/n #kpop smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez oneshot #ateez hard hours

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meraxesmoon · 6 months

Note

Okay so I’ve loved your papa Balerion but what about protective Cannibal? 🐉

See... I absolutely love the Cannibal. He's my second favorite dragon (first being Vhagar). Like, he completely rejects the Targaryen family, and never (in canon) had a rider. He's very much a wild dragon, and I love him for that.

However, if we're talking about bastard! (Name) and Cannibal, I can see them connecting very well. Neither of them wants anything to do with the Targaryen's, and both are sort of pessimistic about life, at least to a certain extent. The Cannibal's bond with bastard! (Name) is much different from Balerion's, though.

Balerion is pretty old, and his temperament is pretty mellow, considering his war days are over. The Cannibal, however, is very violent towards anyone other than his little rider. He doesn't like people, and he likes the Targaryen's even less. I love how dragons and their riders are connected emotionally, so he can basically feel the resentment (Name) has for Daemon, and he's always on the verse of killing Daemon due to feeling her emotions.

The Cannibal is extremely protective, though. (Name) is absolutely invincible once she bonds with him because he's so terrifying, and no one is willing to become his next meal. That being said, (Name)'s life would be easy once she bonded with her beloved dragon. She doesn't have to worry about much, except for keeping him distanced away from the other dragons on Dragonstone.

Bastard! (Name) isn't a huge fan of Daemon and Rhaenyra, but I imagine that she'd become close with the other children, particularly Luke and Rhaena.

She doesn't want Cannibal to eat their dragons, and potentially kill her 'siblings', so she keeps him on a small island located near Dragonstone. She spends a lot of time there doing some upkeep on her dragon. Since Cannibal had been a wild dragon for so long his scales and skin would be a little out of shape. (Name) enjoys cleaning his horns and scales, and he likes it as well.

They have spa days together!

my favorite dragons in order: Vhagar, Cannibal, Rhaegal, Viserion, Drogon, Sunfyre, Dreamfyre, Caraxes, Balerion, Meraxes, Meleys, and Syrax

taglist -> @your-favorite-god @apollonshootafar

I was a little drunk writing this so if it's bad you guys know why <3

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Text

Lollipop

Azriel x innocent Vanserra OC

Summary - after being silenced during the High Lord's meeting with her favorite candy. Seraphina finds herself the center of a certain shadowsingers attention

Warnings - implied smut, implied corruption kink, Beron being Beron (so mentions/signs of abuse), implied swapping, Nesta implying she'd go down on OC, age gap, messing with canon a little bit

A/N -I got bored and the whole corruption kink side of me came out. I also think I'm developing a Nesta kink, and it's probably going to get pretty smutty between her and an oc or reader here soon.... oooo or the valkyries x reader.... might have to do something for my girlies who love other girlies...

Part 2

Azriel was going to fucking faint.

Beron, in an effort to stop his daughter from continuing to egg on the Princess of the Summer court, had pulled out some form of an candy on a stick and put it in her mouth much to the laughter and delight of everyone around.

Now all the shadowsinger could do was watch out of the corners of his eyes as his mate sucked and licked on the candy innocently while reading the book Eris had brought for her.

Doing okay there, brother? Rhysand's purr in his mind before the High Lord looked over at the daughter of Autumn had Azriel suppressing a growl. Well, doesn't little Seraphina just look so pretty with her lips wrapped around something.

Azriel shot him a glare before peeking over again. She had the candy so just the tip of it was in her mouth, lips wrapped perfectly around it. Cauldron fucking boil me. Rhysand sent him a wave of agreement as Feyre also looked over and smirked.

Feyre thinks the 3 of us should take her, and oh fuck-

Azriel and Rhys quickly snapped their eyes back to the meeting when the daughter of Autumn looked their way before looking at her older brother and tapping his shoulder.

Her breasts were on display, small hands delicating holding the stick of the candy as she leaned forward in the exquisite dress she was in to whisper in her older brother's ear.

The male heir of Autumn looked over to the Night Court glaring at the shadowsinger and the high lord. He growled softly before taking the candy from a clearly uncomfortable female.

"Excuse my interruption," Tamlin stopped talking as soon as Eris spoke and demanded the attention of the room, "Do you have something you'd like to say to my sister, Spymaster? You've been staring at her for the past 10 minutes."

The room had gone silent. Tamlin leaned forward with a smirk, as did Tarquin and Thesan. The daughter of Autumn was an unspoken set boundary. No one looked at or touched Beron's girl, not even Amarantha. Too much power radiated in that small body. Power anyone would have given Beron their left arm to have access to. They just had to follow his rules to get the chance to play for her hand, and right now, Azriel's silence was risking his own family's shot at it.

Might want to say something there, brother. Az shot Rhysand a glare before clearing his throat and saying the one thing he knew he shouldn't.

"How can I not stare at such a beautiful creature? Especially when your father so willing put something in her mouth for the entertainment of every male here?" Rhys froze and immediately sent a look Azriel's way.

That wasn't what I had in mind. Being her mate does not promise you her hand, Az. Beron could sell her off before Eris gets the chance to bring her to us. Tread carefully.

Beron laughed darkly before turning to the Night Court, "I didn't realize silencing my 55 year old daughter with candy would be such a problem for you, Azriel. No one else here seems to think anything of it. Must just be that Illyrian Bastard blood in you." The reminder of her young age was a slap in the face to the shadowsinger. A reminder that she hardly understood the world yet and that she had spent the majority of her life trapped in that mountain.

Azriel caught the way Seraphina's eyes shut slowly at her father's insults, "It's not a big deal, daddy. I-." Her father held a hand up to silence her. No one missed the flinch from the young girl. Helion, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys all looked towards each other.

Helion was now staring at the young female too, his eyes softening at her fear. Beron glared at Helion before continuing, "If you continue to look at my daughter, you'll find yourself wingless, boy."

Sera even knew that was too far. Azriel watched the way her chest stilled as she stared wide eyed at her father before switching her gaze to Helion who shook his head softly at her in warning.

Rhysand growled this time, "Do not threaten MY family over your choice not to educate your daughter on sexual matters."

Sera was confused. How was a caramel apple sucker sexual? She made eye contact with the Spring lord, who simply motioned for her to come over to him, and she did.

She walked in a way that reminded Azriel of water. Flowing, smooth, gently. He barely suppressed the growl in his throat as Tamlin pulled the girl into his lap, his mouth close to her delicately pointed and jewel adorned ear.

The room filled with laughter as her eyes grew wide and a red flush hit her chest and cheeks. "Really," she whispered softly to Tamlin, who nodded and then continued whispering in her ear. Soft nodding came from her as Tamlin stroked her upper thigh and whispered to her, eyes locked on Azriel in a clear message. He knew. He could somehow sense the bond. "What's a," Tamlin covered her mouth, laughing slightly as he explained something else to her. "So people don't use the proper terms during sex?" Tamlin was smirking at this point. Whatever he had just said made the young girl gasp, and her eyes go wide.

Beron growled this time and tried to break the field of neutrality in anger but couldn't. "Enough, Tamlin!" Seraphina shifted in Tamlin's lap after he finished speaking to her. She stood and walked back over to the Autumn Court in shock and embarrassment.

"I apologize for the distraction, Shadowsinger. Forgive me," she began playing with her long red curls as Azriel scented her anxiety. "Thank you for the…. Educational lesson, high lord." The daughter of Autumn sat back down slowly and made a fatal error. Her and Nesta Archeron made eye contact and the oldest Cauldron made said one simple thing.

"In case he didn't tell you because he's a selfish male, there's males out there who'd return that favor. And females, if youd be interested in that." The daughter of Autumn grew more red and opened her book to hide her face in the crisp pages, "If you'd like to learn, let me know."

An audible squeak came from the young fae female, "Eris." She was desperate for help. Her brother shot a look Nesta's way, and she returned it with a hate fueled glare.

Tamlin had painted a mental image for her in pretty words chosen specifically to make the young female feel warm. Truly though, She didn't mind the idea. The thought of her on her knees as Azriel tangled his large scarred hands through her long red curls, tongue running along his cock as he made a mess of her made her feel warmth growing in her stomach she'd never felt before.

She had heard rumors from other females about the size of an Illyrian's wings having something to do with the size of their cock, and Seraphina was just trying to imagine how exactly that would work if rumors were true. How exactly would she fit all of him into her mouth if given a chance? The handsome spymaster had huge wings. The largest wings she'd ever seen on a winged fae. If wing size related to endowment size, his cock was huge. And if Nesta was involved? Cauldron boil her. Would Cassian also be involved?

A hand gently clawed at her mind, causing her to freeze. It wasn't trying to get in her head. It was already there. Her honey eyes met violet ones as Rhysand leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine.

No, love, keep going. I was enjoying the delicious thoughts you were having. My brothers and I love sharing our toys. You could have Cassian and Nesta, myself and Feyre- His voice was purr that made her shiver with chills as she slammed him back out and watched as he looked at Azriel.

The winged male's only response was one side of his mouth twitching into a smile before he became unreadable again.

"Now that Seraphina has been educated on some of the finer matters of life, can we continue?" Kal asked coldly as he leaned back into his chair.

Eris discretely handed his sister back her candy. He shot her one look that said, "Be good," before focusing solely on Tamlin and Rhysand restarting their lovers spat.

Seraphina made eye contact with Azriel again as she slowly put the sucker back in her mouth. Azriel pulled his lower lip into his mouth and tugged the mating bond, praying Rhysand had been right when he said he had found it in her mind, but the female just didn't know what it was. Another way to keep her in the dark and innocent, Azriel thought bitterly.

She made a confused face as she looked down at her chest. Then followed the string to Azriel, lollipop now back in the same trapped position of her lips, If you continue looking at me like that with those pretty lips wrapped around that thing, I am not responsible for what happens next little bunny.

Is what Nesta said true? Azriel felt his leathers growing tight at her curious nature. He could feel desire radiating in their bond.

Of course. Only, I eat pussy for my pleasure, not yours. And I will eat pussy because I want to. Not because you've wrapped your pretty little mouth on my cock. He had her. He felt her arousal spike as she shifted. I imagine you'll also be the type who sucks cock for your pleasure instead of mine, little mate.

I'd like to learn. He almost came right then and there as he watched her put the candy in her mouth, eyes wide like a doe.

Keep doing that, baby, and I'll be stealing you to teach you much, much more than just whatever bullshit Tamlin told you. Fucking ruin you for anyone else.

Seraphina turned her attention back to the book she had with a small smile, I'm doing emissary work in the Dawn Court all week this week. I'll be alone tonight.

I'll find you.

I look forward to it.

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x vanserra!oc

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Text

Iridiscent (Pt.2)

PirateAU!Miguel x Mermaid!Reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Historical Figure use, mild sexual situations, a dash of history inaccurracy just for the sake of the plot, implied mysticism, character origins, mourning and grief, mentions of slavery.

Summary: The origins of The Red Eyed Demon.

Pt. 3

I apologize in adavance if this one is a bit too boring or too difficult to read, they'll meet ;) I promise <;3 . Hope you like!

The incessant wailing of a toddler echoed through the barns of the sugar cane plantation. English man with wide eyes as he held a knife, looking how the olive skinned woman flailed like a fish out of water, gaping her mouth open as blood flooded her airways.

Air stagnant in iron, horse shit and sweat. Each odor fighting to see who was the stronger one in the secluded area. The man dropped the knife as he tried to dress his lower parts as quickly as he could. His wide and horrified sight settled in the woman that, despite having her life slipping through the deep wounds, tried to reach for the crying toddler.

The woman choked as the tiny human hiccuped watching his mama.

Everything went still.

"Conchata!" the man panicked when the true commanding voice of Hacienda De La Vega, called for the woman that laid before him, lifeless.

He was the foreman, and of course he would have authority above everything that breathed under his command, even the owner's favorite plaything. Conchata.

The woman was beautiful, cinnamon skin, dark ravenous hair that reached to her waist, pouty lips, strong nose, high cheek bones, eyes that could kill with a single look as they were a deep shade of red, almost mahogany, hooded under thick brows, a plump hourglass figure that had captured almost immediately the owner's attention as she came down the slave shipment he just had acquired in Veracruz, México, long ago. A rare gem among coal and stones that had given birth to a bastard child.

And now, she was gone, dead on the floor after trying to retaliate the big english man that was trying to force himself on her as she was attending her duties in the barn. Anger took over him as she denied him multiple times with a plain disgusted expression on her sharp features.

"Conchata!" The owner, Guillermo de la Vega, called again, worry laced with anger in his voice. The forgotten infant looked at the door, as his tiny face contorted into a crying one.

"¿Dónde se habrá metido esa mujer?" (Where did that woman go?)

The foreman escaped. It took a couple of hours for the crime to be discovered. Guillermo could only look with heavy eyes as his lover was taken out, and thrown in the mass grave down the hill that was used to bury the ones that were too weak and sick to withstand life itself. After all, he had an image to uphold.

"Mi señor, ¿qué haréis con el infante?" (My lord, what must be done with the baby?)

Her spaniard accent thick as she spoke. The little boy resembling his mother raised little to no suspicions as to who was the father, was nested in her arms quietly.

The midwife asked as the little boy had cried himself to sleep. He was but two years old.

"Dáselo a una de las esclavas que lo cuide. De preferencia una que esté amamantado." (Give him to one of the slaves. Preferably one that is nursing.)

-----

The boy was now twelve years old, features a bit more prominent and the resemblance to his old love had settled in. Despite his age, the boy was tall and his face was already showing the hardships of life, frown on his brows as he dug yet another grave, this time wasn't for another slave that died under poor conditions, no.

Miguel had taken his bittersweet time in digging a grave comfortable enough for the person that perpetually rested next to him. Adia, an african slave that had nursed him to health, wiped his tears, consoled him the best she could at the hard, cold, lonely nights in the settlement. A woman that without a doubt had taken him in, and had turned into his mother. The only form of love he had known so far.

He had begged Guillermo to have her burried, De la Vega accepted with the condition that he would have to do it himself, since everyone was busy enough as it was in the sugar cane harvesting season. It had been hours since he was shoveling dirt. His tears watered the land. Adia had died out of malaria.

At everyone's sight, Miguel was trying to put his mother's body on the grave, but it was too heavy. He sobbed in frustration and kicked dirt. Cold realization hit harder than a whipping on his flesh, there would be no more sleeping stories, none to wait for him after helping in the fields, none to sing him to sleep when his nightamares frequented him at night, none that actually cared for him.

Two other men had been kind enough to help him as they tried to keep an eye for the foreman. One of them patted Miguel on the shoulder, a measly yet comforting gesture to show him compassion. Another form of love that was foreign to him. No words were needed.

Calloused, hard and shaky hands shoved dirt back, covering bit by bit the lifeless form of his mother. Oddly enough, the vocalizations of the men and women around that shared the same fate of slavery as him and origins of Adia, raised their voice in a foreign chant. A chant that promised a new start, in another life. Strangely enough; comforting, soothing to his aching little heart as he kept shoveling dirt back in it's place.

A forever farewell song.

----------

"¡Maldito hijo de puta!" (You son of a bitch!)

Miguel had rolled the loose leather handle of the weathered whip in his large hand and walloped his mother's killer with all his might, over and over again. The whip tore and ripped the feeble fabric of the supervisor's clothes to then tear viciously at his flesh, biting harder each time Miguel struck him down with it.

A gunshot resonated through the air, Miguel didn't stop.

"Golpeas a ese hombre una vez más, y el próximo en ser enterrado serás tú." (Strike that man one more time and you'll be the next one in being buried)

"¡Pues Hazlo! Pero primero lo mataré." (Then do it! But I'm killing him first)

Miguel's rage had consumed him, people just stared with horror at the damage he had done on the agonizing man. Eyes flashed red in anger, teeth baring as the overseer held his hands up in defense, a rather pathetic tactic to gain some sympathy from those witnessing his eventual fall.

Tall, yet lanky looking sixteen year old boy had whipped him real good, given him a taste of his own medicine. Some of the men in the back had been silently cheering on the boy

"No lo repetiré de nuevo, Miguel."(I won't repeat myself again, Miguel)

"¡Él mató a mi mamá! ¡Este maldito animal la mató!" (He killed my mother! This fucking animal killed her)

Tears were simmering in his eyes as he struck once more. No gunshot came. A bone shrilling cry snapped Guillermo out of his stupor. Glaring at the boy, he put the gun away and marched towards both.

"¿Qué acabas de decir?" (What did you just said?) His voice wasn't threatening, rather confused and surprised at Miguel's accusation.

"¡¿Qué no oyes?! ¡Este maldito bastardo mató a Conchata, mi madre. Mi verdadera madre! ( Are you deaf? This fucking bastard killed Conchata, my mother. My real mother!)

He didn't mean to insult or despise Adia's memory and efforts in his upbringing, but his origins was something he had always been denied no matter how much he cried for answers.

It all took one night to remain hidden as he watched one of the women being dragged away from the group by the overseer and had his fun with her, and not exactly in a willing way.

The rapist was admitting his crimes one by one as he thrusted harder into the poor girl, marveling at the fact that none had caught him so far. Not even Guillermo himself. He detailed how he killed them, but turned vicious as he explained how he ended the life of a certainslave that refused him because she was in love of his master, and even had a boy with him.

A bastard child.

The thought sparked a fire he thought long gone, and when his mother's killer was unaware the next day as he was polishing his shoes, his punishment begun.

Miguel had aimed to kill him, not caring if it took him hours. He cursed and spat at the man. Guillermo took him by the arms softly but he flinched at his touch.

De La Vega could only stare at him, a bit of himself on his features, strong jaw, his prominent height and frame were his doings. And so was the hatred Miguel looked back at him. His son had grown.

Guillermo turned around and left. A killer and a hero at sixteen.

--------

The sound of the canons blowing all he had known made him freeze in his spot. Bells rang more than his ears allowed to tolerate, people ran in all directions, trying to put themselves into safety.

Hacienda De La Vega was under attack.

"¡Aseguren las entradas! ¡No les permitan avanzar!" (Secure the entrances, do not allow them to advance!)

De la Vega barked orders as he shot a few pirates away from the walls.

Pirates.

A chill ran down Miguel's spine as he watched the men slaying the guards in their wake. Slaves, his friends, were all rounded up like cattle, as the rest of armed men shoot, killed, maimed, any foe on sight.

"Por Mundaca!"

He had been on his studies, something that Guillermo had insisted for him to partake in a few weeks later after the overseer was killed, despite the broken bond between them. He couldn't give Miguel properties and lands, but the least he could do was to give him the power of knowledge. His one and only gift towards him.

Everything happened in a blur. A ground shaking explosion had blown brick, stone and debris on Guillermo's position, erasing him from existence within a blink of an eye. Miguel's body was sent flying as another projectile impacted his study hall area. Glass and shrapnel cutting into his skin. Pain biting and screaming at his bones, he whimpered almost breathless as he tried to stand and go to a safer zone.

He passed out only to wake up being dragged down by a group of armed, tattooed and dangerous men. The captain, wore a black robe, big laced rimmed hat with a black large feather, a clear mockery to the Spaniards.

Fermín Antonio de Mundaca had attacked Hacienda De La Vega, thanks to the rumor that Guillermo bought the best slaves other privateers offered. And not only did he find that, but a rich property, women, spices and of course, Miguel.

Dark eyes fixed on the eighteen year old young man that had put some of his men to sleep despite being injured. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he fought for his life.

"¡Alto!" (Stop)

Fermín barked as he sheathed his swords and marched towards a wobbly standing Miguel. Never in his life had seen someone this tall with spark.

"A este lo ponen a parte. Los demás van al fondo." (This one goes separately. The rest goes to the bottom)

An air knocking punch was the last thing Miguel felt before collapsing.

-------

Fermín was an outlaw accused of slave trafficking and commerce among other illicits by the Spaniards. By the time they had arrived to Cuba, his ship was one of the most expected by the pro-slavers settled in La Habana.

"¿Cuánto por él?" (How much is he?)

One of the buyers had asked as Miguel glared holes into the man.

"No se ve como los otros. ¿De dónde es?" (He doesn't look like the others, where is he from?)

"¿De dónde eres, muchacho?" (Where are you from, kid?)

Fermín asked in a serene tone, with curiosity in his eyes.

"De tu puta madre, cabrón" (Your fucking mother, you dipshit)

Fermín couldn't help but laugh merrily at his temper. The buyer gasped, horrified.

"Nacido y criado en alguna Hacienda española en Yucatán de seguro. No está a la venta." (Born and raised in a Spaniard estate for sure. He's not for sale)

Once the sale was over, Miguel was shackled and pulled to Fermín's headquarters. The ship once more sailing after restocking. The swaying movement made Miguel's stomach to churn. Fermín only chuckled as he removed his robe and hat.

Weathered face along some graying strands poking here and there and his trimmed yet irregular shaped beard. He was tall, but Miguel was taller.

"Not used to travel by ships?" Mundaca spoke in a chewed yet understandable english that had earned him what he possessed now. An unethical and morally questionable fortune born by the traffic and smuggling of lives.

Miguel frowned, confused at the sudden language switching.

"Te he preguntado si estás acostumbrado a viajar en barco. Pero, viendo lo pálido que estás, ya es una respuesta en sí misma." (I've asked you if are you used to travel by ship, but seeing how pale you are, it's already an answer itself.)

Mundaca served himself a cup of tea, to then sip it and smiling, relishing at it's flavor.

" ¿Porqué no me vendiste en Cuba?" (Why didn't you sell be back in Cuba?)

"¿Y desperdiciar el potencial que tienes? No me hagas reír." (And waste away your potential? Don't make me laugh.)

Miguel sighed and held his stomach, dizziness slowly taking over.

"¿Qué edad tienes?" (How old are you?)

"Dieciocho." (Eighteen.)

Mundaca stared at him, doubt splattered all over his face, it felt like a terrible joke said.

"¿Con esa altura, puedes hacerte pasar por lo menos de unos veinticinco años." (With that height you could pass as a twenty five yeard old)

"¿Para qué me tienes aquí?" (What am I here for?)

"Creí que era bastante obvio, niño." (Thought that was pretty obvious, kid.)

"Un esclavo toda tu vida, que probablemente nunca conoció a su madre, hijo bastardo, y un padre que nunca miraba en tu dirección, ¿cierto?" (A slave all your life that probably never met his mother bastard child and a father that barely or never looked your way. Right?)

Miguel's lips remained in a tight line.

" Tema delicado, ya veo." ( A delicate topic, I see.)

Mundaca finished his tea and gave a cup of water to Miguel, who quenched it in a gulp.

"De nada. Ahora, no tienes nada que perder, estás solo, pero puedo ayudarte en eso." (You're welcome. Now, You've got nothing to lose, you're on your own but I can help you with it.)

"No gusto de hombres, gracias." (I'm not into men, thanks.)

Fermín laughed almost into a fit, and only made Miguel's anger to rise again.

"¿Qué mierda te da tanta risa?" (What's so fucking funny?)

"Mira, niño, si realmente quisiera ese tipo de cosas, ya las hubiera tomado. Pero, piensa en grande, piensa más allá de lo que tu limitada imaginación puede." (Look, kid, if I'd want those sort of things, I would've already took them. But think big, think beyond what yout limited imagination can)

" ¡Riquezas, mujeres, propiedades por todo el mundo produciendo para tí! No tienes que darle explicaciones a nadie, y si las debes, sólo matas y escapas." (Wealth, women, properties all over the world producing for you! , you won't owe none an explanation, and if you do, just kill them and escape.)

"No soy un pirata." (I'm not a pirate)

Mundaca rolled his eyes and smirked

"Nadie es un pirata hasta que la probreza y la injusticias de la sociedad te arrastran y te obligan a serlo, muchacho." (None is a pirate until poverty and social injustices drag you down and force you to be one, kid.)

"Nadie es un maldito pirata hasta que los malditos ricos se ponen en guerra y las personas como nosotros sufren las consecuencias de dicha guerra" (None is a fucking pirate until the fucking rich wage their wars and it's people like us who suffer the consequences of said wars)

Miguel gulped as his eyes casted down, pondering in the elder man's words. He was slightly privileged to at least know hoe to read and write properly, a simple yet powerful difference between him and the people he used to bury.

"No hay malditas oportunidades en tierra firme, muchacho. Mientras los ricos se dan un banquete cada noche en base a nuestro sudor y sangre, los pobres mueren olvidados, solos y enfermos. Y me rehúso a eso." (There are no fucking opportunities on land, kid. While the rich feast each night thanks to our blood and sweat, poor ones die forgotten, sick and alone. And I reject that)

"¿Entonces solo tomamos de nuevo lo que nos pertenece? "(So we just take back what belong to us?)

Mundaca smiled and unshackled Miguel.

"Tienes un largo camino por recorrer, muchacho. Pero primero es lo primero. Aprende inglés." (You've got a long way to go, kid. But first thing first. you must learn English.)

-----------

He had just raided his first ship. A Spaniard ship named "Valencia Co.", He found medicines, people, spices and some materials that could be used to repair some wilthered parts of the ship Mundaca had gotten him.

Excitement was almost turned into ecstasy. He had proven to be worthy of something more than just burying people he once held dear and loved.

Life on land had shaped his body, but life at sea and Mundaca had shapen his mind. Mundaca had taken him under his wing, fed him, trained him, taught him everything he knew.

One night he had admitted through a bit too much rum, that he was better father than his own ever was. His body had also changed.

Work and food on land had gained him muscles, his english although chewed, had earned him more open doors within navy engineers that worked for either privateers or royalty itself.

Even though he chose to decline Mundaca's lesson on slave trafficking, and their views on said topic had created a small rift between them, where Miguel would stay at Isla Mujeres as Fermín made sure to deliver the slaves. The twenty six year old, rookie pirate never participated in a smuggling. Lives were out of his list.

----

Miguel couldn't help but notice how Mundaca's health deteriorated the more he traveled.

"You gotta stay here, old man. Ya no estás para esos trotes." (You're no longer young for that sort of action.)

Fermín's laugh was unavoidable as he listened to Miguel.

"Shut up, O'Hara." O'Hara. A surname that he adopted after his carpentry instructor passed. Old, wrinkly yet honest and kind man that gave him a chance onnthe spot as he was sent to learn how to repair boats through a fake note.

Pretensions had been necessary to learn everything he knew, but never actually indulged too much in it. It felt a disrespect to himself, even though it got some benefits.

"La trigueña looked at me today. She looked so beautiful as usual." Miguel was almost pitying his old man. A woman, 37 years younger than him, green eyes and overall pretty had been the reason of his sick look.

"Mundaca..." Miguel started but knew it was futile. Fermin had been deeply infatuated with the youngest daughter of the Pantoja family. Martiniana Gomez Pantoja, better known as "La Trigueña". Even killed his own crew to avoid any lose ends to reveal his location at Isla Mujeres where he finally settled down.

The portraits, pages full of poems, even small sculpts with a womanly face that resembled alot to Martiniana, loitered Mundaca's room. Fermín was unabashedly in love with her, but said obsession was taken too far when he out of the blue started to build "Vista Alegre", a estate that would be a gift to Martiniana. But of course, the young woman rejected him.

Crushing all his hopes once and for all. even though Miguel took him to Merida, to be medically assisted, Fermín Antonio de Mundaca ended up dying.

Once more, Miguel was alone, this time however he had much more than knowledge. He had a purpose. He took what Mundaca had inherited him, and used it to build his own ship. It was time to make his own history.

--------

He wasn't love sick, but definitely the woman had put him in a trance enough to make her be swollen with his child.

He was scared, even questioned way too many times if he would be a good father, something that was hard to grasp at the begining.

"Why do you stare at her like she will grow a second head?" The mother giggled as she looked from the doorframe of the small room. Miguel wasn't fancy, but practical. He provided enough for his family.

The sheer word made his skin crawl, the baby before him, a product of a one night stand, even though the woman played her role as a doting bride, he knew what she did behind his back. He couldn't be an hypocrite to call her anything but decent when he was much worse and still she had no idea.

She left as soon as she found out where Miguel went off to get money. She didn't hesitated in abandon him and their four year old daughter, Gabriela.

Oddly enough, despite living under the same roof, the both had felt like strangers sharing a common goal. As unethical both jobs were, they provided enough to keep the pretense of a good family. The mother couldn't complain of Miguel, he came home injured, but with enough money to live by another couple of months.

But of course, her leaving had put him in a difficult position where, he couldn't leave since none was willing to take care of his daughter, neither he trusted people to do so. And then, what he never thought possible, happened. Gabriela fell ill.

The Typhus had walloped mostly of the places in Campeche, and no matter how much he tried to look for medicines that would help his little girl to feel better, even being gullible enough to do small rituals that supposedly attracted mermaids to get one and make his wish true, nothing prepared him to see her exhale her last breath in his hands.

He spreaded her ashes in the sea, a reason why he turned himself into a full time pirate.

"Miguel?" The soft spoken voice had pulled him out the trance as the woman before rested her chin on his chest, staring with concern at him.

"Must be a powerful cunt if ye space out like that." The courtesan giggled but Miguel remained shut. A hand tucked behind his head as he rested on the perched pillows.

"What's on yer mind?" the woman asked as she gathered her clothes that had been discarded long ago. A few of the fancy courtesans that he knew was clean. Her sight drifted to the shiny pearl that rested on his trousers.

"Look at that! So shiny" The woman took the pearl and sat next to him.

"I could accept this as a payment." her tone playful, but a large hand retrieved the pearl and his dark ruby eyes looked at her.

"Do you believe in... those fairy-tales?"

"Like?"

"Mermaids."

Her nose scrunched up and shook her ginger locked head.

"The only thing I believe is money."

Of course, she was rational and had shared her hardships enough to make her who she was. Even though her hand stretched towards him, a signal for payment.

Sighing, he towered over her, then pulled out a couple of coins and a small gemstone and handed it over the woman's hand.

"A pleasure doing business with you, darling." He could help but fix his eyes on her, gorgeous, fascinated by shiny things, and surely knew how to lure men to a certain death. Difference between her and a mermaid was that the death part was just temporary, and of course she wasn't a fish like creature.

She was dressing up, and he went back to the bed. His frame occupied mostly of the space.

"I don't know if... would it be too personal to share this but..." Dark ruby eyes stared at her flushed back that still had some of his fingers imprinted on.

"When I was little, my grandmother used t'tell me about mermaids and shite." Her stockings were up on her feet.

"And I believed her, because... I had the feeling of being watched as I was on the shore, watching ships come and go." Her trousers were up to her hips as she fetched another layer of clothing that scattered somewhere nearby

"And then I saw her. I... I saw a mermaid. or at least I want to think that it was a mermaid." She shrugged and turned to him, breast still uncovered, and still he focused on her words.

"Because the pair of eyes I saw... were nothing like I had seen before. You could literally see the stars on them, Miguel."

The woman sighed and dressed her breast with a easily removal, yet beautiful looking dress. His fingers helped to secure it closed.

" Thanks. And... You know, I couldn't help but make a wish."

She put her lacy gloves on, and picked up her hair before a small mirror available in the room.

"And what did you wish for?"

She went silent and sighed, sadness flashing on a small smile.

"A better life, but... Im still here, so that wishing thing is just a big fat lie."

Miguel hummed and looked at the pearl.

"If I could, I'd slap her for... making us all so hopeful."

The door was closed and Miguel sighed.

"You and everyone, bonita." he squeezed the pearl on his hand. A new route on his mind.

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

Tag List:

@nerdykat @munixumai @raiirai @sarapaprikas-blog @deputy-videogamer @rizahawkeye1380 @littlenyx @marit332 @iz-iplier @mad-hatter-rici @viriexo @

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #pirate au #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara angst #t writes✨#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!

Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.

(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)

Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..

He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.

Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.

His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.

It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.

Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."

Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.

Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.

Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...

He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.

Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.

Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.

Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."

On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.

He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.

Joel's a tease.

He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.

Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.

His sense of humor is... peculiar.

("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")

You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.

Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.

Reciprocity's big on him.

Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.

Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.

Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.

Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.

Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.

Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.

One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.

(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)

#usernexusnyx #joel miller drabble #joel miller headcanon #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 6 months

Text

Sexiest Podcast Character — Scripted Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Captain Isabel Lovelace (Wolf 359):

Her everything <3 But in all seriousness WHAT is more sexy than a haunted, competent, funny, cursed, vengeful, mourning, badass, doomed woman?

listen to the run and hide speech and tell me that isn't the sexiest thing you've ever heard

Hot space lady who could kill me mmm yes please!

(sort of) twice-undead space captain who wired a bomb to her heart to make sure the crew of her ship didn't kill her before her escape shuttle got working. she's funny she's a genius she knows how to use a gun and she cares very much about her crew (despite the whole bomb thing).

#LOVELACE #idk who she’s up agaunst really tbf #but she cares so SO much #she gets boiled down to ’tough scary lady hot’ a lot (which 100% agree) but #she is heartbroken about her failure to keep her crew safe #and stubbornly wants to make sure none of it is in vain #even if it kills her #HOT. even apart from how hot her monologues and threats to hilbert are #also her and eifel laughing and getting along when they first meet her 😭 yall #anyway. lovelace 1000%. the defense rests

Vote Lovelace cuz of the way she says "Hi honey, I'm home" to the bastard who shot her in the head, and then how she proceeds to beat him up <3 Oh. And how she twists his arm and says "good boy". Yeah.

LOVELACE SWEEP LOVELACE SWEEP GO LISTEN TO HER RUN AND HIDE SPEECH AND WEEP THAT GODDARD AERONATICS EVER KILLED HER ENTIRE CREW AND ALSO HER (she recovered) AND MADE HER THEIR ENEMY

#LOVELACE SWEEP. DO NOT FUCKING LET ME DOWN #Lovelace is so much to me #Seen some people in the notes citing the run and hide speech#Which is very good #but my personal favorite Lovelace thing is variations on a theme #The cyclical nature of trauma #The lack of trust #The fear #the sadness #‘You can never go home. You were home. And now you’re back— and you can never go back.’ #Lovelace hearing Hera say something to her and #Thinking ‘what she’s actually saying is that I’m a demon and she would be glad to kill me in a slow and horrifying manner’ #Is so #I don’t agree that Lovelace is doomed either #Like #lovelace did die. But #She got out of that pain and trauma #How do you listen to her say that she is Isabel Lovelace #That she rejects the person that pain made her to be #And say she’s doomed

captain lovelace helped 12yo me realise I like women. She’s so hot. her threatening Hilbert is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. isabel lovelace SWEEP

Mina Murray (Re: Dracula)

As the winner of the Dracula sexyman bracket which ran before brackets were even a huge thing on tumblr and as a podcast character sort of now that re:Dracula is a podcast I think she deserves a place in this bracket

I would kill for Mina I would die for Mina etc

Mina helped everyone kill Dracula with her reports and memorization of the train schedules!

Mina got her mind invaded in order to be used as a puppet, and she took advantage of it by uno reversing the mind link to hunt down and kill her tormentor. Twice a day she gets into a state of being buried alive to achieve it. She dreads vampirism yet she's using her vampirism to her advantage. Her man vowed to become a vampire for her. He hates vampires. Yet he will offer his throat to her only.

Mod Note: This poll is about podcast characters, please only vote and offer propaganda for the Mina Murray in Re: Dracula.

#Round 5 #Isabel Lovelace #Mina Murray #Wolf 359 #Re: Dracula

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shanastoryteller · 10 months

Note

Happy birthday! Hope its great! The Untamed please? Its one of my favorite fandoms you've gotten me into 🥰

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

Mo Xuanyu is married to the Second Jade of Lan.

Song Lan had known she’d married into the Lan – it was obvious – but he’d thought it was some not so bright cultivator that had been bewitched by her pretty face, or possibly literally bewitched, which he’d already decided wasn’t any of his damn business. If some stupid Lan wants a terrifying and amoral demonic cultivator for a wife, then good luck to them. Except they obviously don’t know she’s a demonic cultivator, considering their clan’s history with the original. But again, not his business, not his problem. His first priority is Xiao Xingchen and if Mo Xuanyu is going help him, then he really doesn’t care about who she’s terrorizing in her spare time.

Except it appears he’d underestimated her.

Because she’s apparently Jin Xuanyu now, legitimized and married off to the second most eligible bachelor in the cultivation world, superseded only by his brother who’s been unofficially off the market for over a decade.

Hanguang Jun had lived as a widower and Song Lan had been convinced he was going to die as one. Uncharitably, he wonders if maybe Lan Wangji just has a type, then feels bad about it in the next moment.

She orders Sect Leader Lan around and he lets her. She glares Hanguang Jun down.

To say absolutely nothing of the way she’d taken down Xue Yang. And then given him that dubious honor of taking credit for the kill, likely because she didn’t want to try and explain to her family how she’d managed it.

She had been clever and dangerous as a teenager. She’s managed to vault herself from disgraced bastard daughter to wife of the heir to the Lan and the legal mother to the third in line who will likely be the one actually succeeding Lan Xichen.

Jin Xuan – Xuanyu is a friend. She has very firmly shown herself to be a friend, helping him and protecting Xiao Xingchen and showing what certainly looks like genuine kindness to the girl who’d helped them, A-Qing.

Possibly she’s done all this to ensure their silence over what she used to be, what she is, but if so then it’s been successful. Betrayal would be a poor repayment for everything she’s done. The Lan hadn’t helped him or Xiao Xingchen. She had. The Lan can take care of themselves and if they can’t withstand the machinations of one woman, they deserve what they get.

Xiao Xingchen hasn’t said much, and Song Lan owes him so many apologies, but not here in front of everyone. He at least agrees to fly with him without much fuss. It will be difficult for him to fly with all three of them for any significant distance, but A-Qing asks Xuanyu to fly with her and she agrees with a smile.

Lan Sizhui doesn’t seem particularly thrilled, but he apparently is far too respectful of his step mother to disagree with her.

They’re flying back the inn when Xiao Xingchen presses himself back against his chest and tilts his head back to say, “Song Lan.”

It’s been so long since he’s heard Xiao Xingchen say his name. He has to swallow before he says, “Yes?”

“That’s,” he starts, then stops. “Who was that?”

“Who?” he asks. “We’re traveling with the Lans.”

“The woman,” he says.

His lips tug down into a frown but he tries not to panic. He’s been under charms to confuse and dull his senses for months. “That was Mo Xuanyu.”

If he’s already confused, getting into her legitimization probably won’t help anything.

Xiao Xingchen is silent for a few more moment. Then he asks, “Are you sure?”

What on earth. “Who else would she be?”

“She moves like – and sounds – but. It can’t. She’s – different,” he says.

As wonderful as it is to hear him speaking, Song Lan wishes he were saying less worrying things. “It’s been a long time since we saw her last. She’s grown up and married. Of course she’s different.” He squeezes his arms around Xiao Xingchen’s waist, hoping it’s not too presumptuous when they haven’t discussed anything yet. “It’s okay, after everything that’s happened this all must feel very sudden. Xuanyu is the one that found you. We can trust her.”

He thinks they can trust her. They can trust her more than any other sect cultivator, which granted isn’t saying much.

Xiao Xingchen relaxes against him. “Alright. If you say so.”

#song lan has been very busy looking for xxc and so missed all the gossip around the arranged marriage #and he only has his knowledge of the real mxy to base all his conclusions on #asks #sailor-lady #untamed #prompt answers #prompts are closed

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elegantsplendour · 10 months

Text

Love Is A Downfall

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3? | Epilogue

Summary:

One girl, two dragons.

Bound to one, attached to an another.

Love is the most powerful form of magic.

Love is the fuel that leads to destruction.

Fear leads of anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.

Pairing 💕 : Aemond Targaryen x !Redwyne reader x Aegon II Targaryen

Warnings / contains in this part: smut, fluff, 3some, some violence and gore, slight angst, green biased pov.

Word count: 5k

Ps: Would love to see your comments 💗

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @aemondx @theroyaldixon @heavenly1927

Other friends: @purple-writer8 @boundlessfantasy @qyburnsghost @lovelykhaleesiii @snh96 @amiraisgoingthruit @arcielee @chompchompluke @godrakin ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶　　　　　　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

“Tell me what you see, Aemond,” she gasped for air as another deep and hard thrust drove her closer to the brink of ecstasy, “I want to hear it.”

Aemond chuckled, squeezing her backside possessively before whispering in her ears, “I see your body, flushed and glistening with sweat," he began, his hot breath teasing her, “Your back arched, offering yourself to me.”

He left a delicious mark on the fragile skin of her neck, “I see the curve of your hips, the smoothness of your skin. Your beautiful bottom bouncing on my cock as I slam into you, claiming you as mine, again and again.”

Aemond grasped a strand of her silky hair gently as she whimpered tantalizingly, “I love you.”

Just he was about to lean down and kiss her, his brother’s voice, filled with amusement, echoed the room, “How adorable. She’s never told me that even I am her husband to be.”

Aemond growled in frustration at the interruption while the little figure under him giggled, “Shut up, Aeg. You know I love you both, just in different ways.”

Aemond turned her head roughly for a feverish kiss, “I love you,” he smirked at Aegon and bit her earlobe and teased, “My Queen.”

Aegon tensed as he closed the distance between them and tilted her bouncing chin caused by his brother’s forceful pounding, “You say you love me? My lustful betrothed?”

Aegon explored her mouth with his tongue meticulously.

He loved her too, but not the way Aemond did.

“Then take me in your mouth,” Aegon commanded, petting her hair tenderly.

Aemond glared at him ferociously at the provocative grin. He had no choice but to tolerate this.

She was too kind, too caring, too selfless, too innocent, well not exactly, to refuse either of them.

Aemond often cursed the gods for gifting Aegon such a soul.

Her mother, Erya Redwyne, childhood friend of Queen Alicent, brought her into the world the same day Aegon was born at the cost of her own life.

As the joyous cries of the two infants echoed through the Red Keep like a hopeful symphony, their fate was sealed.

Queen Alicent often jested about how Aegon used to steal her favorite toys in the nursery, causing the angelic young girl to cry.

Yet over the years, of all the responsibilities Aegon failed in, she remained the only exception.

Aemond could remember one instant after Aegon’s cruel taunts on his bastard nephews and him, his demeanor immediately changed as he welcomed her on piggyback.

Seven Years Ago

“You are so cruel! Let me down, Aegon!!” She protested yet her giggles pleaded otherwise.

“Why? I think I enjoy tormenting a young lady like you than my stoic brother,” Aegon grinned, his hands steadily on her calves while swirling her wildly.

Jace and Luke laughed while Aemond watched, a bizarre sensation burning in his stomach.

She seemed to have sensed his gaze and jumped off of Aegon without warning.

Aemond’s eyes widened as she, a head taller than him at the time, enclosed him in a tight embrace, “Your brother had been cruel to you again, hasn’t he? My sweet Aemond?” She leaned down and squeezed his cheeks, leaving the older brother whine in annoyance, “You could’ve fallen on the sharp stones and leave an ugly scar on your legs,” Aegon narrowed his eyes at the sight of his girl comforting his brother, “And your future lord husband will close his eyes while he beds you.”

She looked at Aegon unbelievably with hurt, anger and embarrassment.

“Let’s go,” she took the young prince’s small hands and left the training yard.

Aemond slightly raised his head and caught glimpse of diamond like drops forming in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

And he knew why. The last time she cried, Aegon had called her an insolent ladybug.

Aemond, although young and small, spoke courteously, hoping to ease her sadness, “My lady, you are beautiful. Your grace far surpasses the mere allure of your physical beauty. You have a kind, and compassionate heart,” he swallowed, trying to look her in the eyes but failed as he returned his gaze on the ground, “I am thankful to have you in my life. Your future lord husband, no matter who he might be,” Aemond’s voice caught in his throat, he knew who she would eventually belong to, “Would be lucky to have you.”

But what he truly meant was, “I wish to have you as Aegon does.”

Surely, Aemond didn’t know what his wish signified. Until Driftmark. Or better. Until he found them pleasuring each other in his brother’s chamber.

But that was another story.

Aemond groaned as his felt his release approached. He bent down, squeezing her breasts, and whispered, “You ok, love? I am going to spill into you.”

Her nods were barely recognizable as Aegon buried her head mercilessly towards his hardened cock.

Aemond wanted to murder him.

If not for his gesture of tenderness.

Aegon slowed his pace and stroke her hair softly, looking at her for assurance.

She blinked at Aegon with mischief.

Of course, that, Aemond didn’t see.

After a deliciously short moment filled with moans, growls and screams of pleasure, they collapsed on the bed.

Aemond didn’t wait for an instant to envelop her in his arms before Aegon had the chance.

He pressed a kiss on her crown, murmuring sweet nothings to her ears, and caressed the deep and permanent scar on her left thigh over and over again.

Six Years Ago

“You really think that I should?” Aemond asked hesitantly.

“Of course you should!” She furrowed her brows, “A dragon is not property, not a heirloom to be passed on!”

Aemond lowered his head and smiled. Nothing could have made him stronger than to have her by his side.

Though, as the sea wind washed over their faces, she squeezed his hand anxiously, “But, I am scared if… if anything happens. You know, the dragons are-”

“Unpredictable,” Aemond nodded, “Even Targaryens may not be exceptions from their wrath.”

He reached out his hand and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ears, exposing her delicate features in all its beauty.

He had grown taller.

Almost as tall as her.

He noticed, secretly smirking in his mind.

“I’ll be there with you,” she declared.

Sensing his widened eyes and worries, she sealed his unspoken words with her finger, “And don’t you tell me what you to do! Little Aemond!”

Aemond breathed in annoyance as he rolled his eyes.

One day, he will be her equal.

He will be the fiercest warrior, a Targaryen that people sing ballads about for centuries, the best dragon rider of his generation, if not of any generation.

He will become her protector.

“Stay here!” He ordered under the dimly moonlight lit beach. It was the first time he spoke to her with such authority.

It felt good, Aemond admitted it, not the control he exercised on her, but the fact that he knew that he was protecting her from harm.

“Aem,” she reached out his arm desperately before letting go, “Be careful. I’ll come to you if anything happens.”

Aemond stood stunned momentarily. He cupped her cheeks and promised full of conviction, “I will come back just fine. More than fine. I will become the rider of the largest dragon in the world. You will be the first one I rider her with. We’ll fly across the Narrow Sea, visit Pentos, Bravoos, Lys. We will be the rulers of the sky.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into his touch, “I’ve never had more faith in anyone, at any moment, than I do to you, right now. Go, Aemond Targaryen. Claim her. I know you can.”

She watched his distancing figure with a mixture of pride and anxiety.

Aemond desired more than what he was handed to him.

He will never be satisfied.

He would not himself without his thirst for the world.

She loved him, though she didn’t fully understand what that word meant. It was different from what she felt for Aegon.

But she was sure of it, no matter what, she would follow him.

For what seemed like an eternity for her,

Aemond’s cries of raw excitement, exhilaration, and rush of adrenaline flowing his veins mixed with her cheers of pure pride and joy.

The green beast left out an equally ferocious roar, as if she shared his rider’s overwhelming emotions.

As the two rushed back into the castle, sand and joy written over their faces, they were fretted with five accusing figures, demanding for justice, she had anticipated. But she was wrong. They demanded for blood.

“It’s them!” The younger sister pointed at Aemond.

“It’s me,” Aemond held her hands confidently. He was no longer the dragonless spare, the little boy who needed her protection.

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon,” Rhaena protested.

Before the girl beside him could retort, Aemond spat back, “Your mother’s dead and Vhagar has a new rider now.”

“She was mine to claim,” the younger sister clenched her fists.

Perhaps it was the allure of his newly claimed power, or it was truly his true nature emerging, Aemond tilted his head provocatively, “Then you should’ve claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Her tangled hands stretched his arms, her eyes stared at him with disbelief, “Aem, don’t say that,” she whispered urgently.

Aemond clenched his jaw as he recognized the look on her face. It was the same one when his brother made that cruel jest.

They stared at each other for a short moment, forgetting the rival tension rising in the air.

The confused peace was brutally shattered as Rhaena’s punch landed on Aemond’s nose.

Caught off guard fleetingly, Aemond’s fury unleashed itself as another punch from Baela Targaryen on her.

With a burst of strength, he pushed the two sisters on the cold ground and tugged her into his arms, “Come at her again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

The next blow came from Jace, jumping on him with a rain of strikes, followed by Luke and the two sisters.

Yet she didn’t hold back. Aemond had never witnessed this side of her. Being slightly older than the Targaryen-Velaryon sisters, she held a slight advantage as she grabbed Baela’s hair violently and threw her on the floor.

Rhaena soon came to help of her sister, the three of them engaged in a savage dance of violence.

There was a fire in her that was unleashed, untamed and primal.

“You cowards!” She seethed while pinning Rhaena on the ground, “A dragon is not a slave. The dragon chooses its rider and she chose Aemond! Get your empty heads over it.”

Aemond, fueled by her words, twisted Jace’s fist directed at him toward towards his own chest with a taunting smirk, making him cry out in pain before kicking him on the ground.

With a swift move, he seized Luke’s neck and a rock in his hand.

“You will die screaming just like your father did,” Aemond sneered, “Bastards.”

“My father is still alive!” The small boy gasped for air.

“He doesn’t know, does he? Lord Strong?”Aemond chuckled, glaring at Jace, then at her, like a lion conquering a new terrain, declaring its victory and superiority, not only to instill fear into its opposing beasts, but also to impress the lioness.

As Aemond embraced the rush of victory and lowered down the rock, a shining dagger rose of Jace’s hand went unnoticed.

“Aem- Watch out!” She shrieked, capturing Jace’s hand with all her strength.

Everything blurred in Aemond’s eyes as his nephew growled and cut deep her thighs, a stream of blood bursting out of her flesh.

He rushed to her side and tried to cover the blood loss, but it was no use. The wound was too deep and in a critical place. She looked up at him in confusion and fear, her teeth trembled at the shade of deep red.

“You will pay for this!” He gritted his teeth, reseizing the rock before shoved Jace viciously on the floor.

Baela and Rhaena, shocked by the unseen rage of their cousin, stepped back.

“Aemond, we’ve won! Step down now!” She cried, her face mingling with tears of fear and blood from her open wound.

His gaze softened, hand lowering down the weapon.

He wished to carry her into his arms to the maesters.

How fate had an ironic twist.

Everything went scarlet and black as the ravaging pain cut through his left eye.

Aemond curled into a ball on the floor. His shrieks of pain mingling with her screams of horror tormented him like a giant bell ringing ringing in his head.

She jumped on his nephew, “You little rat! I will kill you!”

He heard Luke’s screams of help, Jace’s and her growls as they wrestled on the ground, trashing and pummeling each other.

Seconds slipped away, Aemond could do nothing but grapple in agony.

His lost eye continued to flow streams of blood while the other was forced to watch Jacaerys’ training in swordsmanship overpowering her advantage in height, her being chocked helplessly on the cold ground.

Their gaze locked.

She looked at him with despair.

Sorry. Her eyes told him. I am sorry that I couldn’t protect you.

In that l moment, a solemn vow crystallized within him - he pledged to do whatever it took to shield them both from ever enduring such depths of despair again. He would seize the future in his hands, defying even the gods if need be, to bestow upon her nothing but hope and joy.

The next thing he remembered was Ser Harrold Westerling dragging Jace from delivering another slap on her face.

Her thigh continued to ooze a ghastly flow of unstemmed blood.

She lost her conscience as the knight pulled Aemond from the ground.

With every fiber of his being aflame, he unleashed a torrent of hysterical screams, as though his desperate calls possessed the power to wrench her from the clutches of the Stranger, to defy the realms of the departed, and reunite her with the realm of the living, with him.

Both of them were brought to the maesters. Aemond’s teeth sank into each other, his fingers digging into his flesh at the piercing pain as the maester retreated his broken eye and wove his scar.

And she was there, lying peacefully as if she had fallen into a slumber, unaware of the healer’s hands on her flesh.

“It would heal, will it not, maester?” Alicent’s trembled as she asked.

Reminded by his mother, Aegon demanded with equal urgency at the maester treating the flesh of her thighs, “It will heal. Right?”

“The lady has lost considerable amount of blood, my prince.

The older prince felt hot tears swollen with hot tears.

He gently caressed her cheeks.

She was his responsibility and he failed her.

“The flesh will heal, but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

“The flesh will heal, but the scar is permanent, my prince.”

Aemond watched his mother striking his brother on the face, “Where were you?”

“This,” Alicent spat furiously, “Is nothing compared to the abuse your brother and betrothed suffered when you were drowning in your cups, you fool!”

Aegon bit his lips, turning his head from his mother as he forced his tears back.

Alicent was right. He had indulged himself again, yet it was because his betrothed distanced herself from him ever since that jest in the training yard. He was such a coward, Aegon cursed himself, why couldn’t he just apologize?

If he had excused himself, he wouldn’t have been drown in cups, he would’ve been by her side, she wouldn’t have laid unconscious, Aemond wouldn’t have lost his eye.

The rest of that fateful night concluded in accusations and turmoils.

The agony of the sight of her fragile form and his wound prevented from memorizing everything about that fateful night of accusations and turmoils, but there was one thing etched into his memories.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves,” Rhaenyra pushed her children behind her, “Vile insults were levied against them. The legitimacy of my sons’ birth has been put into question. This is the highest of treason, Your Grace. Prince Aemond and Lady Redwyne must be sharped questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

“Over an insult?” Alicent shook her head in disbelief, “My son has lost and eye!” She pointed her finger at the girl in slumber, “And she! She is Erya’s daughter!” Alicent exclaimed, “You would torture Erya’s daughter?!”

Silence was the princess’ answer. It was obvious that the queen’s attempt at recalling the memory of their deceased best friend was at no avail.

“You won’t touch her!” Aegon stood before her, his violet eyes blazing with an unprecedented fire.

“No one is to be tortured, boy,” the old king glanced at his eldest son and approached Aemond, “You tell me. Where did you hear such slanders?”

Aemond faced the broken old man he had been forced to call father and king head on. He looked at Alicent, then at Rhaenyra, Daemon,

Aegon, then, at her.

“It was Aegon,” he said.

“Me?”

“And you! Boy! Where did you hear such slanders?”

Aegon took a deep breath, averting his gaze on the floor, seeking to appear as clueless as possible, “Everybody knows, father. Just… Look at them.”

As the room fell into a haunting silence, Aemond and Aegon exchanged a look.

They hadn’t wanted to be a part of this fight, but their half-sister had forced their hand.

She had just threatened their everything, her.

Now, they would play ruthlessly together.

Present day

“Aem,” she purred, nestling in his chest.

Chuckling, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her with utmost adoration. She slowly rolled herself on top of him, her soft breast lied flat on his stomach and her ears pressed against his racing heart.

“Can I hold you?”

After gods know much time, Aegon asked with a hint of longing and jealousy.

She twinkled, sneaking a peck on Aemond’s cheek before accepting Aegon’s invitation.

Even tugged in Aegon’s embrace, she gazed back at Aemond with uncertainty.

With a mild smile and nod, she giggled and wrapped her arms around her betrothed with any reservation.

Did Aemond mind sharing her with his brother, the soon king to be?

The fuck yes.

Yet the One-Eyed Prince would do anything for the future queen of Seven Kingdoms.

The story how Rhaenyra gave up her claim on the Iron Throne was one both brothers, especially Aegon, was proud of.

It didn’t take much other than hiring a few pirates across the Narrow Sea to kidnap the Realm’s Delight and the Rogue Prince’s first born son to force her hand.

And…

A few more drops of herbs in the milk of poppy their father consumed daily, and an edict composed of, or deadly similar to, King Viserys’ handwriting.

Aemond kept watching the sight before him. Her fingers trailed on his brother’s chest. She leaned in to murmur something audible only to Aegon, who smirked and captured her lips into a passionate kiss before hovering her pliant body under him.

He diverted his gaze.

Seven Moons Ago

The first time he had seen them in such intimacy was on his seventeenth name day. The prince refused to display it, but butterflies burnt in his stomach as he replayed the anticipating whispers of her promises of an unforgettable gift. Curiosity reigned his mind as he strolled the Red Keep to the library, a sanctuary he would most likely to find her in.

Yet the spectacle before him made his world crumble down.

She looked like an exquisite doll at his brother’s mercy, his one hand exploring her forbidden forest while the other massaging her soft breast.

“Aeg, please,” she whimpered, grinding her core to the magic of his hand.

“Please what, my little betrothed,” Aegon whispered seductively while trailing a series of kisses down her neck, “For me not to stop? Squeeze your breasts harder? Or spank you over my knees for being such a lustful maiden? You’ll have to be specific.”

“All. Everything, please,” she arched her back, offering herself to him, exposing her neck while letting head fall backwards.

And that’s how she caught glimpse of Aemond.

“Aemond!”

She screamed. Her face flushed. Guilt and apology all over her features.

“It… it isn’t what it looks like.”

Aegon chortled at his brother’s murdering look, “Calm down, Aemond. It’s my duty to satisfy my betrothed’s unfulfilled desires in-“ he taunted, “Ways that violate the codes of propriety the least.”

Aemond breathed, his nostrils observably widened with fury, “Indeed, I will leave you to it,” he returned his gaze to her, his tone grave and devoid of emotions, “Enjoy yourself, my lady.”

Storming off from the library, Aemond felt disgusting liquids forming in his good eye while an excruciating ache formed in his sapphire eye where his lost eye used to be.

Urgent footsteps and her calling echoing behind him only urged him to stroll faster.

“Aemond! Please, let me explain!” She pressed her hand on his closing door desperately.

He didn’t respond. She was Aegon’s betrothed, destined to be his the moment she stepped into the world . He had only been a foolish, jealous and pathetic little boy hoping one day she could love him. However, despite every fiber of his being telling him that she had nothing to apologize for, he couldn’t help but to feel betrayed.

It was his name day, yet it felt like the most precious thing in his life had been ripped away from his heart.

“I am sorry,” her lips trembled.

“Why?” He tilted her chin, making her look him straight in the eye. He longed for her answer. He thirsted for the truth. Behind his commanding voice, Aemond Targaryen’s heart begged her to give him the very answer he craved, even if it knew it was wrong.

“I…” she opened her mouth, trying to find the right words.

“Tell me,” he stepped closer, “Is it because you know that my heart races every time I find you in proximity? That I have to force myself to divert my gaze every time Aegon has you in his arms? That every second of my life had been an excruciating torment, always desiring things and people that I can never have?”

Her eyes opened wide with shock and dilemma. She reached her hand to touch his cheek, “Some of it, perhaps,” she answered, her voice barely than s whisper, “But above all, because, because…”

He was convinced she bit her tongue out of nervousness.

“Because what?” Aemond demanded, his grip on her shoulders almost inciting pain.

“Because I love you.”

“What?” His voice almost a growl.

“I love you. I. Love. You,” she declared, tears swelling in her eyes, “I’ve always loved you.”

“And do you love him?” He shut the door abruptly, saving them both from the prying eyes, before cornering her on the wall like an wolf ready to devour a sheep.

Biting her lips, she spoke again, “I do.”

She grabbed his hand as if she was scared that he would walk away, “But you don’t understand, Aemond. He… he’s been with me since I was born. We cried together, mumbled our first words to each other. Aegon,” she hardened her resolve, “He is a part of me.”

To her surprise, Aemond pressed his forehead on hers, their lips only inches apart, “Do you love him like you love me? As much as you love me?”

A profound silence enveloped them.

“No.”

It was all it took for Aemond to crash on her lips.

Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies like like two starving migrants caught sight of honey on another.

As they gasped for breath, she slowly slipped her gown off and pressed her flesh against him, “I had a present for you, my prince. But I think you would prefer this gift.”

The prince’s movement froze at her offer.

It was too unreal. Too wrong yet too tempting.

“Has he?”

She understood the question and shook her head.

“Are you sure? Once we go down this path, there is no going back,” Aemond held the back of her neck tenderly, his one eye searching for any sign of hesitation.

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life than right now, with you.”

“I’ve never had more faith in anyone, at any moment, than I do to you, right now. Go, Aemond Targaryen. Claim her. I know you can.”

The bittersweet flashback at Driftmark, when he was still whole, was all he needed for assurance.

She wrapped her arms around Aemond’s lean yet muscular shoulders as he carried her to the bed.

“I want to see you, all of you.”

With Aemond’s hands quivered, she took the initiative and slowly removed the barrier between them.

“I love you,” she murmured as she kissed the scar that lined the prince’s sapphire eye.

Aemond smirked as he traced his kisses in an agonizing pace to the centre of her core, “Let me show you how much I love you, my queen.”

She moaned at the title that she was soon to bear, a shameful yet arousing reminder of the betrayal against her betrothed, the man with whom she came to this world together.

Aemond took time particularly at the scar on her left thigh, savouring every imperfection with his tongue.

“Aem! Watch out!”

The image of Jacaerys’ blade cutting sliced through her perfect skin still gnawed his spirit.

“I should’ve killed him for what he did to you,” Aemond kissed her flesh possessively.

A light chuckle came from her mouth, “And now, you can. Aemond Targaryen,” she stretched out her fingers and teased the prince’s rarely messy hair, “But he is not worth our time.”

Her words were cut off by a loud moan as Aemond inserted a finger inside her while pressing his thumb on her pearl.

“Is that how he touched you?” He groaned, “Does he make you feel like this?” Aemond grinned before using one hand to to make her straddle him, the other squeezing her round bottom, eliciting another moan from her lips.

“Not like you do, Aem,” she kissed him hungrily, eagerly grinding and teasing his hardened length, “Take me now. I am ready. Just,” she swallowed, “Be gentle.“

“Hmm,” he kissed along her collarbones, “I’ve never been good at gentle, but I’ll do my best for you. Always,” he pressed another kiss on her cheek, “I’ll do anything for you.”

With that, Aemond gently lifted her hips, allowing her to adjust to his length at her own rhythm.

Taking him fully, he sensed her body wince at the discomfort, her nails plunging into the flesh of his shoulders, her head buried behind his back.

“We can stop, love,” the prince wiped away a tear from her cheek caused by the pain.

“No,” she smiled, the trace of liquid still apparent on her skin, “I want you, I am sure of it.”

The two of them moved delicately, melting the unspoken and forbidden tension built between them like snow under the sun.

The initial winces of pain transformed quickly into soft whimpers of pleasure and light giggles.

“Do I bring you pleasure, love?” His voice laced with tenderness, “For your pleasure is my utmost desire.”

She laughed softly and met his stroke eagerly, “What do you think, my sweet Aemond?”

She then started leaving kisses on the top of his head, his hair, messing his silver lock with an insatiable appetite.

“My Queen,” he groaned, “I’m close.”

With a smirk, she took control and pinned his hands above his head, “Me too, my sweet prince.”

Although Aemond One-Eye rejoiced his Queen’s vigor, the blood of the dragon runs hotter than the blood of Redwyne.

He flipped over roughly on her back and replunged himself inside her.

“Gods, Aem,” she whined, “Fuck me like the dragon you are.”

Aemond’s breath hitched, his laughter filled the room, “I will fuck you until you forget your own name, my precious,” he whispered in her ears before slamming his hips into hers with all his might.

As the sinful slapping and screams of pleasure transformed the room into a sanctuary isolated from the rest of the world, the two collapsed on one another.

“Moon tea, then?” She asked softly.

“Moon tea,” he nodded, “for now.”

They stayed entangled in each other for quite a while. Thoughts swarmed through his mind like a hive of bees.

He took her maidenhead.

He, Aemond Targaryen, took her maidenhead.

She, Aegon’s promised, loved him.

She loved them both.

How could this story conclude happily?

Aemond forced out the few dark possibilities that crossed over his mind.

At least, he couldn’t possibly do that to her.

She seemed to have sensed his worries and kissed his forehead, “I’ll find a way, I promise.”

That’s how the three ended up here.

A week after their first passionate encounter, they found themselves giving into their desires again in the secrecy of Aemond’s chamber.

This time, Aegon burst in with a smug face.

“Mind if I join you?”

Aemond’s throat burnt with rage and embarrassment, “Get out.”

The older brother shrugged and did the opposite, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ears, “We tell each other everything, Aemond. I’ve known that she loved you for quite a while now.”

Do you know that she loves me more?

He wanted to throw that question onto his brother’s face, but he didn’t, for her sake.

Seeing Aemond’s clenching fists, Aegon moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck, “I would do anything for her. I wouldn’t let her lose anything or anyone she loves, wouldn’t you, brother?”

She slowly reached Aemond’s hand hesitantly, “Are you mad at me, Aem?”

“No,” he cupped her cheeks, “Never at you, love.

Two sides fought brutally in the battlefield of Aemond Targaryen’s head.

One side lured him to rip off his brother’s head off.

The other side urged him to accept offer.

He chose the second option.

Present day

The inky night enveloped the sky at the hour of the Wolf.

The two brothers turned over and found the space between them empty.

She stood in solitude under the moon, her hair cascading down, her body enrobed by nothing but an almost transparent night gown.

A goddess.

They both thought.

“What are your thinking about, love?” Aegon left a feather light kiss on her neck.

She smiled and turned around to face them, “It’s a fortnight until the wedding and coronation.”

Aemond’s figure tensed.

“So many things are about to change. So many new responsibilities,” she sighed, drifting her gaze to the centre of King’s Landing, where undercurrents surges even in the darkest of nights.

“This,” she lowered her head, “Can’t continue. At least, not like this.”

Aemond’s heartbeat raced at her declaration.

She couldn’t abandon him.

She couldn’t.

Her chuckle slightly released his tension as she leaned into his chest.

“What she means is that we can’t lay together anymore,” Aegon clarified, a hint of amusement in his voice, “Relax yourself, brother. She’d never let you go.”

Aemond smiled faintly as he carried her back to bed. They were right. Although the moon tea had served as a temporary solution for their indiscretion, its effectiveness had been limited. Once a child was conceived under the scandalous circumstances, it would be impossible to know who the father was.

She grinned softly before drifting to sleep, “You are both going to be fathers. So get rid of your childishness, especially you, Aeg.”

As two of them fell into a delicious slumber, Aemond stared at the ceiling alone, contemplating the possibilities of the future.

It seemed like everything was falling into place.

Rhaenyra’s claim destroyed.

Aegon finally starting to take interests in his responsibilities.

Her declaring that she loved him, even more than his brother.

Them finding a way for their love to co-exist.

Despite all the signs of peace, Aemond couldn’t help but to have a lingering impression that it was the calm before the storm.

Author’s note: Team Aem or team aeg? Lemme know your thoughts.😚

Whispering, hinting: enjoy part 1 while you can ;) 🥺

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