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dilatorywriting · 9 months

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Monster Mayhem: Love Drunk

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You are a succubus, who is apparently really bad at their job. At least if your poor, nitpicking victim has anything to say about it.

A/N: Sorry for being horny on main, but here we are lol I've been writing a lot of little bits lately for a Twst OC of mine, and decided that hey, y'know what, might as well revamp some of the ones that are easily revamp-able into my usual reader-insert style and pump out some shenanigans rather than just letting them languish away in google docs. So here we be.

🌶️🌶️🌶️ WARNING for Spicy Content!

READ WHAT YOU LIKE, BUT BE MINDFUL OF WHAT YOU READ

“You’re late.”

The steam billowed as if with a sigh, and a familiar figure melted from the warm spray.

You blew a wet strand of hair out of your face with a noise that was nearly a raspberry. “I was busy.”

“I didn’t realize you had a life outside me,” Vil droned, only mostly serious. The little succubus seemed to pop out of the shadows at the slightest beckon, and even when you were gone, you always came back with nothing but talk of all the ways you’d worked to improve your craft since the last they spoke. And of your strange, card-faced friends, on occasion. But that was a topic you tended to hoard closely to your chest like a dragon to gold.

“Not everything revolves around you,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Vil leaned his head back to rinse the remainder of the conditioner from his hair. “Then maybe you shouldn’t act like my good opinion is the only thing keeping you employed, fed, and housed.”

You went warm in the ears, even under the heat of the steam, and crossed your arms petulantly over your chest. At least you’d been keen enough to not pop into his shower fully clothed this time. That had been a mess. You shifted back and forth on the balls of your feet with a grumpy, little huff and Vil didn’t bother to fight the way that his eyes followed the slowly rolling droplets of water that trailed lower with each fidget.

“Whatever. I’m here now, aren’t I?” you grouched. “But anyways, what’s the plan for today? Out late again?”

“More all-day shoots,” he said, reaching up to replace one bottle of custom hair product for another. “And an interview to follow that’s meant to be a pre-recording for the morning programs tomorrow. So that could be close to midnight, depending on when we finish up.”

Your nose scrunched in sympathy. “Ew. I don’t get why you do all this stuff. It sounds like a nightmare. Human media is so strange.”

Maybe it was. But—

“It’s worth it,” he huffed, running one of his newer serums through the silky strands of his pale hair. He glanced down at you from beneath his dripping bangs. “Have you been using the conditioner I gave you?”

“Do you think there are functional showers in Hell?” you snipped, and then averted your gaze in chagrin. “I have been trying. I just—it’s not always an option all the time,” you said, a bit embarrassed.

“Come here,” he sighed, twirling his finger in a sign to show him her back, and you shifted closer obediently.

It was always so funny, he thought, as he reached out to scrub white bubbles into your mused hair. That you would spit and hiss, and throw such a tantrum over everything. But when it came to actually obeying his orders? You were always putting one foot in front of the other to meet him more than halfway. If he said ‘jump,’ you’d whine and complain but inevitably ask ‘how high.’ Like a loyal little stray that growled and raised its hackles but would come preening for food and attention at the first whistle.

“Sounds like a stressful day,” you hummed, arching into his fingers like a cat being stroked down its spine. “Are you still stuck working with that one guy you hate? Nigel, or whatever?”

“Neige,” he huffed, giving your hair a soft tug in rebuke. “And yes. The project hasn’t wrapped yet.”

“So a very stressful day,” you mused, tilted your head back to thump against his chest and stare up at him through the steady stream of water overhead. He watched the thin, feline-like, pupils of your eyes flash and widen into something round and dark. “This’ll be perfect then.”

“What?” he scoffed, as if he hadn’t just seen those pulsing, black pupils himself and felt something in his stomach tug. “That I’m stressed?”

“No,” you huffed, cheeks puffing out in irritation like he’d known they would. “Because I’ve been practicing.”

He arched a pointed brow and your cheeks went rounder yet. You stepped out of his hold and turned so the two of you were chest to chest. Vil let his hands fall to rest at the dip in your back and you pressed along him in one, lean line from toe to hip. Those strange, iridescent irises of yours flicked over his face, his lips, and those rabbit cheeks went hot with embarrassment. (“Humans kiss each other,” he’d said during one of their earliest meetings, when he’d leaned in with a smirk to brush his mouth against your temple and you’d nearly started seizing. “It’s what they do.” And you’d gone rattlingly indignant and started sputtering about impropriety of all things. All while you were sitting there butt naked and demanding he let you jerk him off so you could meet your weekly quota).

Your eyes dipped low beneath your lashes. And then you darted up quick to press a peck to his chin before immediately dropping to your knees. You leaned forward to nuzzle into the soft, blonde hairs tufted there and then dragged your tongue up the length of him in one, long lick. Vil fought a shiver.

“Practicing, huh?” he droned, affecting boredom as best he was able.

“Yes,” you replied, determined, and gave another lick. Shorter, this time. And more focused along the delicate, pink crown of him. “You made fun of me last time! Called it a ‘High Schooler’s First Blowjob!’ How could I not practice?”

“Oh? With who?” he scoffed, a bit more bitter jealousy seeping into the sneer than he would have liked.

Your face went scrunchy with embarrassment again and then you were sinking back down to run your tongue against the thick vein along the underside. Vil reached out to twine his fingers in your hair and you ducked forward to take him into your mouth.

“You’re lucky you caught me before I got out of the shower,” he said on a sigh, hips twitching when you gave a firmer suck. “This would hardly be worth dirtying myself all over again for—”

You pressed her tongue sharply into the little slit at the head and then dragged the muscle forward in a wide sweep—circling the whole of the most sensitive creases and then applying that same, lovely, suction all over again. Vil groaned, low and rumbling, and he could practically taste the bubbling excitement of your pride bursting along his lips.

You hummed—smug—intentionally loud and muzzy, so that it shot through the buzzing nerves in his skin like a symphony. Vil grit his teeth and dug his fingers into your hair to yank. Instead of popping off with an indignant whine and a trailing string of saliva, you narrowed your eyes at him and then dove forward—relaxing your throat and swallowing him down until your nose was pressed into his pubic bone. Vil cursed, head falling back against the tile wall with a punched-out moan and fingers twining shakily in the short hairs by the base of your skull.

“You have been practicing,” he mumbled, fighting the urge to go a bit cross-eyed when you swallowed around him.

You hummed in affirmation. It vibrated all the way from head to base and he shivered in time with it.

After too many long, long seconds of him nearly slipping down the wall with the curl of his toes, you popped off with a cough.

“I can hold my breath for ages now,” you declared proudly, a smear of milky white smudged along the corner of your lips. You leaned forward to prop your chin up against the jut of his hip bone and smirk up at him with a look that was a touch too genuinely excited to be truly impish. “Told you I could do it.”

“How foolish of me to have ever doubted your dedication,” he scoffed, still a bit too breathless for the sarcasm he was trying to spit. It nearly came out on a gasp and your grin grew wider. He sneered, a bit too harsh under his fluster, “What with your stalwart focus on never even touching the kits I’ve bought you. Let alone making any of the other bevy of improvements that I’ve been trying to put into place for weeks now.”

“Oh?” you droned, sharp. “Well, sorry to disappoint, Lord Vil. I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

And then without preamble, you were swallowing him down all over again all the way to the root—nose brushing the soft, pale, hair there as you dutifully squeezed your throat and ran your tongue along the underside until he was practically seeing stars. You drove forward further, hands coming up to dig your nails into his thighs as you pushed yourself until you were trembling and pinpricks of sharp tears dotted your lashes. One of those hands shifted between his legs, and you reached out with careful fingers to twine around the delicate stones there and squeeze.

Vil curled forward and came with something that was nearly a shout, trembling and loose as he emptied himself down your throat. You swallowed around each pulse, sending zip after zip of oversensitive buzzing through his veins.

You pulled away with another round of coughing, looking positively debauched. You scrubbed some of the dripping water out of your eyes and then moved to swipe away the stray drops of sticky whiteness that had managed to escape your otherwise valiant efforts to drink him dry.

“Better?” you grinned, hair mused and cheeks wet and sore.

A quip rested on his tongue. Something about how you could not be, when there’d been nowhere to go but up? But the genuinely delighted look on your face, and the soft, hesitant, undercurrent of nervous tension underneath had him loosening his fingers from your hair to rub at one of the milky stains littering your chin.

“It was good,” he said. “Better than that, even. Well done.”

“Worth taking another shower for?” you beamed.

“Worth an entire morning’s routine,” he smiled, far too soft, and leaned down to press a long, wet, kiss to your lips when you went spluttery and shy.

“I can come by your trailer, if you want,” the succubus offered, as Vil busied himself with blotting a towel over your dripping hair.

“Oh?” he mused. “I thought you only needed to feed once a day.”

“Well, sure. But I mean for your stress relief,” you said on an indignant little puff, crossing your arms tight across your chest. You peeked up from beneath your lashes, cautious. “I mean, only if you’d want that sort of thing.”

He reached out to cup your cheeks and pinch. You whined under his prodding but didn’t swat him away.

Vil sighed, dramatic and put upon. “I suppose if you insist. How could I deny my most precious little protégé anything they ask, hmm?”

“Easily, if the past few weeks are anything to go by,” you sneered around his tugging. “And who’s ‘your protégé’?! I’m the succubus here!”

“Yes,” he drawled. “A succubus who’s needed me to teach them everything they know. What a fearsome creature, indeed.”

“I could fuck you to death,” you threatened, eyes flashing bright and eerie.

Vil pinched harder, until the skin under his fingers went nearly white, and you winced—those same, slitted eyes going a bit glassy and nervous. He leaned forward until his breath ghosted along your lips and he watched your throat bob in a gulp.

“I’d like to see you try.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Succubus!Reader #Monster Mayhem Succubus Part 1 #SPICY CONTENT

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aidaronan · 2 months

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Blood red eyes, point-sharp nails Reptile skin, prehensile tails Come one, cum all... to Monsterfucker May Details beneath the cut.

What is this?

It's pretty much what it says on the tin. Take your blorbo(s), monsterfy them, and put them in (sexy) situations. I'm calling it a Spicy Six challenge, but I did throw an asterisk (technically a dagger bc of its superior aesthetics) out beside that because you can totally also write, like, Selkie Joyce or Mothman Mr. Clarke. Or Jeff CorrodedCoffin getting his shit rocked by Mermaid Heather Holloway. I pretty much wanted to indicate that this particular challenge excludes the younger characters and there's not a great catch-all term for "every legal adult in Hawkins/Chicago/California."

How sexy does my fic/art have to be?

As sexy as you want. This IS a monsterFUCKER challenge, but... Maybe the sex is fade-to-black in your fic. Or maybe your monsters have sex in a very unique way. Maybe your art is just a ring-covered hand white-knuckling fur. Maybe it's fanged faces contorted with bliss. Sometimes anticipation and suggestion are plenty. That said, I also encourage the most unhinged freaknasty shit you can think up, if that's what you wanna do.

What counts a monster?

You tell me, pal. 😏

(Feel free to use the word loosely to include any kind of creature, fantasy/mythological being, or even random sentient concepts e.g. Death or Time.)

So how do I participate?

Write a fic and/or create a work of art that fits the challenge. Fics can be any length, and you can create as few or as many creative works for this challenge as you want. On tumblr and all other sites where hashtags are used, tag with #STMonsterMay and #STMonsterMay24 On AO3, add your work to the collection, searchable as STMonsterMay24 when posting a new work. This will open on May 1 at midnight US EST time. Please only add works posted in May to the collection/tags. (Sequels are okay! So are new works of art for existing fics/universes.)

Is it okay if I write/draw [character/ship/dark concept/etc.]?

I wholeheartedly and passionately do not give a shit. As long as it fits the parameters of the challenge, it's fair game. Just tag and warn appropriately. That said, I will kindly request people are a bit conscious of what they're doing. I'm thinking of things like not using Native/Indigenous monsters if they don't belong to you. Etc.

* Will this be moderated? This challenge will be 95% unmoderated because I expect people to act like the kind and conscientious adults they are. I also have no idea how successful or unsuccessful this will end up being yet and if it would even be possible to keep an eye on Everything.

However, if something really egregious happens re: cultural/racial sensitivity, or a serious lack of tags for a rough topic, people are encouraged to message or inbox me, and I'll look into it and make whatever call seems to fit the situation re: removal from the collection, talking to the creator, requesting additional tags, etc.

For things posted outside of the ao3 collection, there won't be much I can personally do except attempting to have a productive conversation with the creator (if there is a way for me to do that.)

Feel free to reach out if you have any Qs! Otherwise, I'll see you all in May. 😈

#stranger things #STMonsterMay #18+ only #fandom challenge

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lyrenminth · 2 months

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You silly girl

n/a: sorry in advance for any mistakes.

***

You were a matchmaker. You enjoyed the process of getting two people together and watching how they fell in love for eachother. During your teenage years you considered to made it a bussiness.

Your friends always teased you about the irony of being a matchmaker and being single for almost three years. But you didn't worry, the one would arrive at any moment, so meanwhile you would enjoy all the weddings.

One of your friend, Joe was single too. And Jocelyn, your gorgeous model friends was single and ready for a relationship. So, your duty was to introduce them to eachother during a meeting with friends. You stole glances that night at them, watching them talk the whole night. Ring, ring, ring! Another success. After the party you made your interrogation individually. Jocelyn was smitten by Joe.

"He's so handsome, a little bit weird but I can pull out with that" she stated, eyes glistening with hope.

"Great! I'm going to ask him" she grabbed your arm, suddenly shy "I know you want the best for me but Joe gave me the impression he wasn't that into me as I was into him"

"Nonsense. I'm going to talk to him"

"Oh, please you better not" you looked at her face, and realize the best thing to do was to leave it behind. Somehow it weird you out, that night Joe seemed interested, perhaps you misread him?

A couple of days later you were in Joe house, you were making spicy chicken wings as Joe watched tape on his Mac.

"You can help, you know?" you teased him, putting sauce in each wing.

"I told you we should buy them but you didn't want me to" he stated, lifting his index finger.

Then, you brought the topic in a "friendly way".

"Hey, what is your impression of Jocelyn, isn't she nice?" you started. Joe paused the video and looked at you, serious.

"I know your fame, and I'm telling you right now isn't gonna work"

"My fame?" you asked, incredulous.

"Your matchmaking thing" he replied without fun.

"So, Jocelyn is a no?" he didn't replied, only looked at you from head to toe as if you were a big cockroach in his kitchen. "Okayyy, I was thinking you could be a great couple that's it" you said, trying to change his mood.

"You're clueless" he was talking to you in this annoying voice that made you get defensive. Joe wasn't like this usually, only when he was big mad for a reason.

"Wow, I'm just trying to help you"

"With?"

"You know is weird that a star quaterback is single. Makes you wonder"

"Wonder what?" his tone was cold and sharp, it made your heart clench. You looked at him, dead in the eye and start shaking your head. You put the wings aside, not wanting to be there "You're behaving like an asshole, Joe" he frowned. "How so?"

"I'm just trying to help"

"I don't need your help, and I don't want to date anyone right know because..." he stopped himself, you waited. He rubbed his face, exasperated. "I feel like you think I'm broken or something. I'm not, it's just my job is hard, finding a partner that can deal with it it's hard. So, stop with the matchmaking thing, please"

"I-I never thought you were broken, I was just trying to help you because a partner might help overall." you explained, worried about his thoughts about the situation. "I didn't meant to be intrusive"

"If you think a partner is better overall why don't you get one" he shoot back. You shrugged, not making a big deal about it. "Sorry, Joe"

He sighed, and you stayed in silence for a minute or so. Joe was the first to speak. "There's another reason why I don't want Jocelyn" you raised your head to look at him. He was nervous and a little red on the cheek. "Can you guess?" you shook your head as the answer.

"No clue"

"Would you believe if i say it's because of you" you felt the air around you dissapear from one moment to another. You frowned, confused about what he was saying. "Excuse me?" you said in a high pitch tone.

"I can't seem to like anyone when you're around. Believe,I have tried but..." he shrugged, and look innocent, almost.

"Why?" you asked, stupefied. He laugh lowly, craned his neck to one side. "For being a matchmaker you're truly clueless. Maybe because I like you?"

"What" you started blushing, looking everywhere but him. "How's that so? You never show any sign"

"Didn't I? Maybe answering your calls during busy moments, or inviting to every social event or buying you all those weird snacks you liked wasn't good enough? Perhaps should I tell you how happy and focused I am around you, how lonely I feel when you aren't around making me wonder if there's something wrong with me. You're eveything right for me"

The silence was deafening. His words shock your to your core. Joe was in love with you? What. The. Hell.

And somehow, you understood his feelings because in some years of your long-time friendship he was everything you could see. Blinded by him, you know. It was the a delicious and painful feeling. Loving someone you were sure they loved you in a different way.

But now you have Joe looking at you, expectantly. His blue-green eyes you always wanted your kids to inherit, the perfect bunny nose. The tiny smile.

"Sorry, but I had no clue" Joe's smile faltered, sensing rejection. "I don't know what to say, I've been loving you all these years" you said, in a low tone. "I never thought you would love me back"

"I do" he said ardently. He got closer to you, and face-to-face you could see all the emotions. He was nervous when he cupped your face between his hands. "I've been feeling this for years, but I want to feel like this forever"

"Joe" you said whispered his name, still in shock. Sometimes he was such a romantic it made you giggled, surprisingly happy. "You're right I was clueless"

"You have a choice now" he stated.

"Of course I want to date my best friend" you said standing on your toes to kiss him. He caught your lips midway.

When you stopped to catch your breath he gave you a big smile. All happy.

"Better than my imagination"

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #fanfiction #nfl

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sky-kiss · 6 months

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Raphael x Tav: Coffee Shop AU Pt. 2

A/N: Continuing from this, because someone wanted Raphael's POV and I wanted to goof off instead of writing serious things.

______

She’s a Barista. How Did it Come to This?

______

As a professor of the English language and literature on the whole, Raphael has no small amount of experience when it comes to divining an author’s intent and reading subtext. Years of honing these talents allow him to translate Haarlep’s intended message: ask the barista out.

What he actually says is, “It’s been seven months, old man, is this a joke? Skip dinner and fuck the poor thing sideways.” Which is uncouth, uncivil, and utterly par for the course for the younger man.

“Why are you here?”

Haarlep shrugs. He’s currently sprawled out across the only sofa in the teacher’s lounge, both monopolizing the space and looking too cramped on the loveseat. Korilla rolls her eyes, leaning over his feet to pluck another paper from the pile. The University has afforded him two assistants this semester. Only one is pulling their weight. But Haarlep’s is not without use. Between himself and his assistant, he has never seen:

Such positive class reviews.

So many female students with a vested interest in classical literature.

It’s frankly uncanny.

“You’d be happier for taking my advice.”

“Not everyone is playing ‘catch the venereal' disease, Haarlep,” Korilla mutters. Haarlep shoots her a look. Something unspoken passes between them. In the absence of words (and Korilla’s repentance), Haarlep digs their heel into her thigh before sitting up.

“Oh, take me with you. One evening, Raphael. That's all I need. And you and your sweet barista will be happy little lambs.”

“Aren’t you busy?” Raphael eyes the essays.

Haarlep waves him off. “Unimportant. I hate to see you so solemn, dear. Please.”

And unfortunately, there’s no denying Haarlep anything once they’re in full flow. Gods save them all.

_________

Fifteen minutes into the drive, he insists on silence. Raphael is always one for a good discussion, but Haarlep is a peculiar breed. He whiplashes from topic to topic with an alacrity most find disorienting and asserts opinions so occasionally outlandish that Raphael wonders if he believes them. The smirk says he doesn’t; half of what they do is for their amusement, the little shit.

“You must like her,” Haarlep mutters. “The cafe might as well be in a different city.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. We’re half an hour from campus.”

“Mmm.”

He doesn’t like that sound one bit. Or the look his assistant is giving him. Raphael grumbles, motioning for the younger man to go ahead of him. The bell on the door chimes when they step inside, and he’s overcome with that feeling of peace.

Tav’s shop smells equal parts coffee shop and bookstore, the slightly spicy scent of old paper lingering on the air. He associates the smell with snowy mornings spent indoors, curled beneath his covers, safe and comfortable. There are seating areas and tables, yes, indicative of any metropolitan cafe. It’s the books he fell in love with. Shelves and shelves of books, of all genres and ages. You were as likely to find a history of naval battles as you were an airport bestseller or romance.

Haarlep pulls a face. “It smells like a library.”

“That will be the books, you troglodyte.”

They accept the gibe gamely enough, stuffing their hands in their pockets. Haarlep scans the place with their frankly unsettling, at times preternatural, gaze, weighing every barista. They linger on Tav. “That one?”

“How…”

“Raphael, you are aware of what attraction looks like, yes? Do you have some cursory awareness? That girl looked at you with the stupidest doe-eyes when you walked in. It made me a little upset. Or nauseous.” He waved a hand. “Hard to say which.”

“Your dramatics are noted, Haarlep. Find a book. I’ll order for us.”

“Oh, good. More reading.”

He is very aware of Haarlep’s eyes on him as he approaches the counter. It pales in comparison to the roiling feeling in his gut. The voice in his head (sounding too much like his father) screams every time he gets close. She’s too young; they’re from different worlds. She won’t look at him. If she’s polite, it’s because she’s paid to be polite, Raphael. Tav smiles at him; the expression lights up the entirety of her face. He thinks, in that moment, that she is one of the most singularly lovely creatures he’s seen.

“Raphael!” She uses his name. Tav leans forward on the counter, beckoning him nearer. Her little friends behind the counter share a look among themselves, snickering. “I took your advice.” She points to a shelf on the left side of the store. He recognizes the book: one of his recommendations. “You were right. I couldn’t put it down. I figured others might enjoy it too. If you have any more suggestions…”

“Of course. Of course! It’s…very nearly my profession!”

“Isn’t that your profession?”

He smirks, dipping into a half bow. “Among other things. You’ll find me a font of philosophy and tired rhetoric. Should it ever strike your fancy.”

“Mmm. You do know how to sweet talk a girl.”

He thinks he hears Haarlep groan from across the cafe. Tav is looking at him, and the weight of that stare leaves him parched or hungry. Raphael clears his throat. “May I ask how you found the ending?”

“Why doesn’t she explain it to you,” Shadowheart says, sliding a coffee to him. “Over dinner? Say six?”

Haarlep winds an arm around his waist, resting their chin on his shoulder. “Six is perfect, my beauty. He can’t wait. Italian?”

“Her absolute favorite. Passatempo?”

Haarlep reaches out to shake the she-elf’s hand. “He’s never been. But he’s so eager to try.”

It is, perhaps, the most surreal way he’s ever gotten a date. Tav stares at him in sputtering horror, her face a vibrant red. Raphael saves her, writing his number on one of the cafe’s business cards. He hands it to her. “My number. I look forward to our…”

“...date.” She finishes, so conclusively, so resolutely, that he laughs.

“Yes. Of course.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #shadowheart #haarlep #au: coffee shop #my writing #got that idiot brain #got everyone a job at Raphael's university #someone save me #its terrible #fluff #horrible tooth rotting fluff #remind me to kill them or something next fic

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wardenparker · 1 year

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The Viper’s Bride - ch 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol* A slap! Mentions of menstruation, fleeting mention of a suicidal thought, threats of violence, bathing, so much foreplay, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fingering (anal), MM coupling, MMF threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f giving and receiving), FF coupling, technically this is an orgy. Summary: Upon receiving news of your arranged betrothal, both you and Prince Oberyn of Dorne make your ways to the Red Keep for King Joffrey’s impending nuptials. However, his arrival to the city is significantly more playful than yours. Notes: Welcome to soulmate story number seven! This summer we are getting hot and heavy in Westeros with everybody’s favourite promiscuous prince. Buckle up, my darlings, because this one gets spicy right off the bat 👑💖

Oberyn frowns slightly as the oil slicked hands of the servant press into the arches and joints of Doran’s feet, making his older brother hiss in pain. It must be a harsh day for him, his wheeled chair a near constant as it is now too painful for him to walk even short distances. A far cry from the hale and hearty brother he had grown up with as the youngest of the Martell princes. He knows the oil is warmed, the scent of eucalyptus and mint filling the air as it is worked into the skin, hopefully providing some relief. “I can come back, brother. Let you rest.”

“This is important.” Doran insists, not dismissing either man from his presence. His own discomfort is a stark reminder of the sacrifices that must be made for the throne of Dorne. “You know the Baratheon boy is to marry.” The fact that King Joffrey’s mother is a Lannister makes him an unsavory topic between the Martell brothers, even as Marcella Baratheon plays in the water gardens a mere thirty yards away.

Stiffening instantaneously for a moment before he forces his body to relax, Oberyn despised the mention of anything to do with the Lannisters, including that bastard on the throne. Everyone knows the rumors and with the golden mane of the boy and the tales of evils he has done, he’s inclined to believe it. “Gods be praised.” He murmurs sarcastically, reaching for the carafe of wine and the spare goblet that had obviously been left in anticipation of his visit with the elder prince. “What poor girl is marrying that…king?”

“Margaery Tyrell.” The elder prince huffs derisively before leveling his younger brother with a serious gaze. “You are to attend the wedding in my stead.”

Rolling his eyes, Oberyn sighs heavily. It will be two weeks of hard traveling to reach King’s Landing. All for a wedding he does not wish to attend. “I will extend the Martell family’s feelings.”

"You will be gracious and accommodating." Doran warns, knowing that the Martell family's true feelings are not appropriate in any way to be expressed at a wedding. "There will be some other business for you to attend to in King's Landing which is far more important."

“Yes, there is that wonderful brothel down in Flea Bottom.” Oberyn muses, grinning at the idea of bringing Ellaria there. The last time he had come, it had been two years before he had met her.

"Oberyn." His brother's voice has a warning tone to it. "I beg you not to waste your time in brothels on this trip no matter how enjoyable a pastime it may be. There is someone you need to meet."

He snorts and shakes his head. “I have no interest in meeting boring nobles with their equally boring wives.” He tells him. “I’ll be with Ellaria anyway.”

"No, you won't." Doran jerks away from his servant in frustration and turns to fully face Oberyn. "I will not have that woman jeopardize the contract I have signed when the ink is barely dry. Leave her home, Oberyn. She will be here with open legs when you return."

Oberyn’s brow arches up dramatically. Doran has never had issue with Ellaria, even counting her as a confidant in his absence. She is the mother of four of his children and a member of the family despite there being no vows between them. His soulmate. “What contract?” He growls.

"Leave." He hisses at the young man who was tending to him and he backs off immediately, taking the pot of oil back into the interior of the palace as fast as his feet can carry him. "It was time, Oberyn," he intones seriously. "Far past time, but I have let you have your freedom as long as I was able."

“Let me have my freedom?” His hackles rise and his eyes narrow. “I have my freedom because I wish it.” He reminds his brother. “I am not the head of the Martells like you, and you have your heir.”

"I have one heir." Doran bristles, but the raised tension between the brothers is his own fault. A product of the tension and pain he was already feeling today. "If anything should happen to Trystane, it will be you on the throne. And though I have great love for my nieces, none of them can be a princess."

“Our house will endure like it always has.” Oberyn snorts, dismissing Doran’s concern. “If the time comes, I will marry Ellaria and claim my Sand Snakes as legitimate.” He takes a long sip of his wine, humming at the delightfully floral note.

"The chance for that has passed." It is Doran's turn to be dismissive, sitting back again in his wheeled chair and adjusting a cushion under his arm. "Your objections to marriage have been noted, brother, but it is time to make a respectable husband of you. Ellaria will understand. She is an intelligent woman, and I'm sure would not abandon you as your mistress." Oberyn prefers the term paramour, and though it is accurate now, it will be more complicated once things are settled.

“Brother, what have you done?” Oberyn demands, slamming his goblet down onto the table.

"You know exactly what I have done." There is no chance, in his mind, that Oberyn has not deduced that a marriage contract has been signed, but Doran still sighs heavily. "She is the only daughter of a noble family. The father let her go without a match for some time while her brothers all married, but her portrait is beautiful and he assures me that she is accomplished." Reaching for the wine glass that Oberyn has rejected, Doran takes a gulp rather than a sip. "And she has no marks, blessedly."

“The agreement was my soulmate or no one.” Oberyn hisses, his gaze turning withering. “I will not marry some cow faced northerner.”

"Every place is northern to Dorne," Doran waves one hand dismissively and sets the wine glass back down on the table between them. "The contract is signed, Oberyn. You will not make a liar or a fool of your brother by denying it, and I am not going to try to force you to spend time with the girl or even like her. But you will marry her and produce a legitimate heir." The contract is full of terms to be adhered to, and the fairly enormous size of the girl's dowry includes access to trade routes that will greatly benefit the people of Dorne. There is no downside to this arrangement in Doran's mind, aside from having to have this discussion with his brother.

Oberyn’s lips press together in a firm line and his chair scrapes back as he stands. “Then you fuck the girl.” He hisses. “For I will not be gracing her bed.” Turning on his heel, the prince storms away before he loses his infamous temper.

Doran breathes a sigh, reaching for the goblet again to drown his frustrations in the wine that his maester has instructed him to avoid when he is in pain. "Fuck it," he grumbles harshly. Oberyn is going to make his life a living hell anyway, he may as well be drunk for it.

******

“Marriage!” Oberyn scoffs angrily, pacing in front of the lounge where his paramour is currently sprawled. “As if I am some fresh-faced maiden. How dare he sign a contract on my behalf!”

"I smell Mellario behind it," Ellaria admits, watching him pace back and forth like a caged beast. Oberyn had come careening back into his chamber like a sandstorm and now he was seething. "Doran has never had issue with your arrangement before now, and suddenly he is concerned about heirs? I would not be surprised if her change has come."

“Or he cannot get his cock to rise.” Oberyn winces at the idea of his own cock not working, but with his brother’s declining health, he would not rule it out. “I will not do it.” He decides. “We will leave for Braavos if he decides to push the issue.”

"My love," Ellaria sits up, shaking her head. "If you leave here, I would follow. You know this. But you would still have four daughters you would not be able to see and we both know that would break your heart." His children are the most important thing in the world to Oberyn – everyone knows this – and Doran would certainly use them as a punishment for insubordination. "Exile is no choice, Oberyn. Even self-imposed."

Pausing mid-stride, his robes swish around his legs as he turns to stare at the woman who had been with him and by his side for nearly twenty years. “You would have me entertain this idea?” He demands, surprised she would consider this.

“I would not have you be less of a man than you are.” For all her complexities, Ellaria Sand is not the temptress or the snake that some make her out to be. Her genuine love for Oberyn is rooted in as much respect as it is passion, and their four daughters currently have a father that they can look up to as a good and wise man. “What is the worst this girl could be?” She poses the question carefully as he shifts his weight anxiously in front of her, and she folds her hands in her lap. “Ugly? That is not her fault. The sun and good company can make anyone more beautiful. Cruel? Doran has already said you do not have to spend much time with her. Or perhaps childish? Spoiled? Then you treat her like a child and send her to her chamber without a treat if she misbehaves.” There is anger in his face, which Ellaria hates to see, but she tries to be encouraging. Motherhood has taught her that encouragement can be a balm on almost any wound. “So you would be married. What does that signify? Nothing in so far as you and I are concerned. You are still my soulmate, my love. And the father of my children. She cannot change that.”

“You are my sun.” Oberyn reaches down and takes his lover’s hand to draw her to her feet. Pulling her against his body, his broad hand covers the small scar on her side, a knife wound that he had earned in the fighting pits. “My world.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, trying to rid himself of the idea of tying himself to another. Ellaria is his soulmate, which is why he had said that he would only marry the woman who bears his marks.

"And no one will ever change that." She vows just as solemnly, giving herself over to the kiss without restraint. There are parts of his world that she does not stray into, or they would have fought with Doran for the right to marry years ago. The elder Martell brother may not mind her as Prince Oberyn's paramour, but she is not what he would envision for a princess of Dorne, nor does Ellaria particularly want such a title. For Oberyn she might have borne the duty of it all, but he never asked that of her and she was grateful. Now, whoever this girl is that is being thrust into their life will bear that burden instead. Ellaria does not envy her the responsibility.

******

“My love, you must calm yourself.” Within the walls of your chambers, Raeden Stone knows that the two of you are safe. Your maid will not interrupt unless necessary and she is sworn to protect your happiness and well-being above everything else, including your parents. “Stop.” Striding across the room, the sword at his side clanks as he grabs your hands filled with dresses, and takes them from you. “We cannot flee under the cover of darkness like we are thieves escaping the sword.” He knows that if he is caught, he will be killed or sent to the Wall as well.

"I won't do it." The very idea is offensive, leaving the taste of burnt crumbs in your mouth and the feeling of insects crawling on your skin, so that even with Raeden clutching your hand all you can think of is being rid of the horrible sensation. This whole horrible situation. Your eyes are already red from tears, their dried tracks left on your cheeks and down your neck, yet still more threaten to spill over as he holds you still. "I won't marry a stranger and move halfway across the world. I won't leave you behind!"

“You will not need to leave me.” Setting the clothes down on the trunk that is meant to be packed for your journey to King’s Landing and then to Dorne, he cups your cheeks. “I will pledge to accompany you.” He promises, his dark eyes boring into yours. His heart aches but he had known this day would eventually come. “I will ride into all seven hells if need be to stay beside you.”

"Why can we not just tell them?" Your smaller hands wrap around his long fingers, holding tight to him as though he might disappear if you let go. "To marry my soulmate should not be such a shocking thing to do, surely?" Having gone over and over it in their time together, you know why. Status. For a young noble woman to marry a bastard of no consequence, soulmate or otherwise, would be unacceptable in any part of Westeros.

“I have no name to offer you, other than Stone.” Raeden reminds you, aware of his station. He had only become a trusted member of your guard when he had risked his life for you nearly three winters ago. No one knew of the shared marks on your skin. No one could know. “No coin, no land, no future.”

"I could be your future." The argument is an old one. Aged and worn like the stones in your floor. The fact that you would abandon your station and your family for him is moot now that your father has sold you. "Three brothers married wealthy wives and yet I am the sacrificial lamb to be offered up to the lecherous second prince of Dorne." The stories of the man's temperament and deeds preceded him, of course. Lusty and vengeful, the second son of House Martell was to be feared never spoken of above a whisper in polite company. And now you have to marry him?

“I have heard he is handsome.” Despite his own heart aching at the thought of another touching you, he has to make this seem like a good thing. “They say he will treat any in his bed respectfully.”

"He could be the most handsome man in all of Dorne and he would still not be as handsome as you." Soulful eyes the color of chestnut shells, plush lips, and a perpetually mischievous smile when he’s pleased, there is no one more handsome than Ser Raeden Stone. Firm muscles and an impressive strength make him as formidable on the battlefield as they do in the bedroom - a fact which you have kept mum about for years now. Raeden's broad frame and towering height envelope you fully when you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest to muffle a sob. "I will never lay with him. Or love him. Not as long as I live."

“You will be his wife.” He swallows as he says those words. “You will bear his children, love or not. And I will protect you.” It will be his own special kind of hell, watching you grow with a child that is not his, marry a man who is not him. “You must not tell him, love.”

"How can you be so calm?" You demand, looking up at him with fear and hurt swimming in your eyes. "My father is sentencing me to stand at the side of another man and you...my love, I cannot believe you are accepting of this?"

“I have no choice but to accept it.” His voice hardens slightly. “If we try to run away together, we will be caught. I will be killed or sent to the Wall.” It rankles, but he had known that one day you would be married off. “I cannot protect you if I am dead or taken the oath.” He growls, shaking his head and leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “I cannot risk leaving you alone.”

"Only cruel gods would have given us to each other as soulmates without ever intending to allow our love." It is an unfairness of life that you have lamented more than once, but right now it feels as though a dagger has been plunged through your heart and twisted violently.

“The gods know of our love.” Raeden knows it, sighing softly. “We are together and we will still be together.” He kisses you softly. “I spend more nights in your bed than my own. It will be the same in Dorne.”

"I will not allow it to be any other way." Despite the fear of the unknown, the thing that you can cling to is the strength of your feelings for Raeden Stone. Since the day he arrived rather triumphantly in your life, he has been a constant and welcome presence and you will not allow any power to steal your soulmate from your side. "No prince from Dorne will ever keep you from my arms."

“There is my girl.” Raeden smiles, happy that you are calm again and he presses closer to you. “Now…do you wish that I take your mind off your worries?” He coos softly.

“I always wish for you.” Though time is precious now, as you leave for King’s Landing in just three days and the road is no place for a romantic interlude. Raeden will not even be allowed to ride in your carriage during the journey. His place as your guard demands that he protect you, not indulge in you. Although he is fully capable of doing both.

The grin that you have said melts you flashes across his face and he pulls back so he can remove his belt and sword. “Then let me make you forget about Dorne, forget about marriage and only think of me.”

******

The painstaking journey feels ludicrous, and your weary mother certainly has not made it any easier with her complaining. The decision for your parents to accompany you was entirely your father’s and even then it was only so that he could brag to his small group of friends that he attended the king’s wedding. If this were only about delivering you to your groom, he would have sent you with your guard and your maid and thought no further on it. As it is, you have spent every day sitting beside your mother’s lady’s maid in the cramped and uncomfortable carriage praying that you might get even ten minutes alone with Raeden before the end of the day. It has hardly happened, and you have found yourself near tears rather constantly. Ignorant man that your father is, he imagines you so delirious with joy that you are weeping for your good fortune. The truth could not be further away.

“Do not fret.” Your mother assures you softly. “We have long had daughters marry in Dorne or Dornish brides sent to us.” She reminds you. “While most will look their noses down at a Dornish man, we know he will treat you well.”

“I still do not see why this marriage is even necessary.” And since no one has offered you any sort of explanation, you’re inclined to just ask. “My brothers married wealthy women. We do not need the favour of House Martell. So I am forced to wonder again why I am being offered to them in sacrifice.”

“Change is coming to Westeros.” Your mother leans in, her words quiet and fervent. “Dorne is the last kingdom that still has royalty. You will not just be a lady, you will a princess.”

"I do not want to be a princess." You inform her flatly, ignoring the way her lady's laid looks aghast at your ingratitude. "My own maid had more freedom than I do. At least someone asked her if she wanted to be shipped south like chattel. And she was even able to say no!" Though Clarey had served you since you came of age, your own maid had been able to marry her soulmate and had recently discovered she was with child. Your father had considered himself quite magnanimous for not breaking up that family to send her to Dorne with you.

“You would have your father break his contract with Dorne?” Your mother asks, appalled at the mere idea. “You were born into a noble house. You have grown up knowing your father would arrange a marriage for you. Most are married at seventeen.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment that you are forever ungrateful for the time your father had allowed you to remain unwed. If you only knew the rumors that had swirled.

"If you always planned to marry me against my will then I wonder that you waited so long." Staring out of the carriage window, you can see Raeden up ahead, face drawn in concentration as he keeps constant vigilance over the route you are traveling. "Why not have signed me away to the Starks when I was born?" The bitterness in your voice is obvious. "Then I would have been a queen."

“You will watch your sharp tongue, or you shall be sent to your room without dinner.” Your mother hisses, sitting back and shaking her head. “Your father wanted to hold out hope for a soulmate.”

"I am not a child, as you so love to point out when it is convenient to you." The threat of no dinner is nothing when you have no appetite to begin with. It would be a blessing not to be stared at over a meager meal. "And you can hardly send me to my room when I haven't one. We will not even arrive in King's Landing before first light tomorrow."

Your mother’s hand strikes out, slapping your cheek with a sharp crack. “You will not shame your father and house.” She hisses. “I have long begged your father to marry you off, to stop giving into your childish notions, but no more. You will marry Oberyn Martell.”

If the impulse to cup your own cheek was present, you don’t give in to it, not wanting to show the satisfaction of acknowledging that she has caused you pain of any kind. At the moment all you can really think is that it is good Raeden did not witness your mother striking you, or he may have given himself away with his reaction. “At least in Dorne I will never again be forced to breathe the same odious air you have exhaled.” No one in all of Westeros could ever have mistaken your mother for your ally if they saw you interact in private – it is only her sickly sweet countenance in public that made others think that she had babied or favoured you in any way. More than once in your life you’ve wondered how such a hateful woman could even grow a babe let alone birth four of them.

“You will learn your place soon enough.” She promises you. “You are a woman, not a man.” Her disappointment in you pours off of her in waves. “Be thankful your father did not choose a fat, aging lord.”

“Fat and aging means he would die faster.” At least antagonizing your mother is passing the time, you decide, staring straight ahead at the pompous boil of a woman who has lorded herself over you for the last twenty-five years. “I think I would do very well as a widow.”

“I wonder if your bravery would falter learning that your guard will not be staying with you.” The sly, evil menace in your mother’s voice is clear.

“Of course he will.” Brazen confidence is the tone which drowns out your panicked fear, and you tell yourself not to look outside and give yourself away. That could ruin everything in less than one heartbeat. “He swore to Father to protect me and Father accepted.” If something had changed, surely Raeden would have told you.

“Hmmmm.” Her smile is acidic, her fingers twisting around her handkerchief. “You think you are soooo clever. That I did not know.”

“Honestly?” Honestly you really did not think for a second that anyone besides your former maid knew anything, but you swallow down the boiling acid in your throat and keep your chin poised to stare your own mother down. “I do not know what you could possibly mean.”

“I birthed you.” She snorts, a very unladylike sound. “You think I do not know when my daughter had decided to spread her legs and become a Stone’s whore?”

Of course the thing that bothers her most is that Raeden is a bastard – Stone, as they are named in the Vale – and not an actual concern of safety or care. “I can assure you, that is not the case.” Though saying it would be a waste of breath, nothing you have done with Raeden could mark you as a whore. Just a woman very much in love with her soulmate.

“At least you just bled.” She scoffs. “Not carrying a bastard in your belly.” She leans in, her eyes flashing with malice. “Behave. Or I will allow your father into my bed for the night and he will do as I say. Including making sure your precious Raeden rides home to the Vale with his lord, your father.” She threatens.

Though you have serious doubts that your mother’s cunt is magical enough to control your father’s thoughts, it isn’t a chance you’re willing to take. If Raeden is ordered to return to the Vale and you are forced to ride for Dorne without him, you are more likely to see the bottom of the seas than your marriage bed. “My Lord Father loves me and wishes to protect me,” is all you say in response.

“Your Lord Father will do what makes me happy.” She promises you with a self-assured smirk. “Especially now that I have convinced him to marry you off.”

“It was you?” You should not be so shocked. Her hatred for you has been obvious from the time you were a child and had never seemed to waver. Your father, on the other hand? Doting and indulgent, always picking flowers for you and bringing you books instead of suitors. Your brothers are strong men with discipline instilled in them. You had been allowed to read and dream and sing and ride at your leisure. Of course his sudden change of heart was down to your bitter, angry mother.

“Who else?” She sneers. “Your father would be content to keep you around until you are nothing but a spinster. You are already past your prime. Luckily enough, the Prince of Dorne already has eight bastards.”

The way her utter dismissal of you makes your blood boil is beyond explanation, but as you squeeze your hands together in the pockets of your robe, only one precious thought floats to the surface. “My only solace is that if I should ever see you again after this week, Mother, you shall have to curtsy to the person you despise most in the world.”

“I will not.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I will never bow to a little whore like you.”

“Oh, but you will.” A victory, even a small one, is enough to grasp at as you square your shoulders again. “When I am Princess of Dorne it will be required of everyone save King Joffrey himself. You included.”

“Bitch.” She hisses, glaring at you. “I should have drowned you the moment you slipped from my womb.”

“A regret you will live with forever.” If Knocking her from her wicked confidence is the best you can do in this conversation, you will not take that for granted, for your mother has always been a formidable enemy. “Now leave me to read, Mother. Lest you earn yourself another wrinkle and find your hair a shade greater than it was when we left home.”

“I will be overjoyed to not see your face every day.” She spits, hating that you don’t seem cowed by her threats. “Dorne will be eye opening for you. And everything you deserve:”

“As you say, Mother.” Without another word, you take the small book of histories from your reticule and open it to the place where you left off last night, too distracted by Raeden’s handsome face to give any more thought to words. False confidence is a thing you learned very well in the face of your mother’s vitriol, and apparently on this one occasion it has actually yielded a victory. You may still be terrified of your future in Dorne, but she never needs to know that.

******

“This city still smells like shit.” Two weeks of travel has left Oberyn irritable, grumbling as he pulls his horse up to the gates of the city. “Let us go find comfort and a bath.” He tells Ellaria, unable to stay in the carriage and deciding to ride ahead of the contingent of troops Doran had sent with him.

“At the brothel, my love?” She smirks at the suggestion, far less uncomfortable from travel than he is. “A bath, fresh food, and a good fuck will restore your mood.”

“Of course.” Oberyn scoffs. “I will not accept chambers in that keep.” He hates even being here and seeing it. Wanting to burn it down, considering his sister, niece and nephew died in that keep.

“Nor should you.” As a prince he should have the most resplendent rooms available, but they both know what would happen if Oberyn ever set foot in the Red Keep beyond the wedding in two days. “We will visit this Littlefinger you have spoken of?”

“I had sent word that we were arriving.” He chuckles, smirking at Ellaria because she knows him so well. “Tell me you don’t want a hot bath and an even hotter cunt?”

“If I am honest, I am ravenous for a cunt to bury my tongue in.” There is never any judgment between them, or jealousy, and Ellaria sighs indulgently at the idea of a slick cunt and perky tits to indulge in. “Will you share with me, lover?”

“Always.” Oberyn waggles his brows. “We will pick out a whore together.”

“A favorite pastime.” Ellaria laughs softly. She has not spoken a word about Oberyn’s intended bride since they left Dorne and she won’t until it’s necessary. His mood is volatile here in the northern capital and she does not relish his moments of anger.

“Silk sheets.” Oberyn groans, not willing to admit that he is weary of travel, but he needs to recover. Especially if he is to be meeting this bride. He had decided that the poor girl deserves to be told in person that he will have nothing to do with her.

“Silk sheets. Roasted meats. Wine. Berries and nuts fresh from their trees.” She giggles when his hand slips inside her dress to caress her skin. “And a pert ass for you to bury yourself in.”

“We could get two. A man and a woman.” He reasons, smirking at the idea. “Perhaps we will have Littlefinger line them all up for us to choose from.”

“As many as you like, my love.” After all, it is not as if the coffers of Dorne lack for funds. They have brought a fortune with them under Doran’s insistence that Oberyn shower his intended with gifts – and a second fortune to pay for the bills his natural extravagance will no doubt incur. “We will have whatever you desire. And when you have had your fill we will rest and then begin all over again.”

“Wine.” Oberyn decides, frowning despite thinking of nicer things as the two of them enter the walls of King’s Landing. “I will need a lot of wine.”

Their destination is not far, but the duo of Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand attract attention by virtue of their combined beauty and the onlookers who cluster to gaze at them make their journey last longer. Oberyn sends their driver off with the carriage to find stables nearby and Ellaria wraps her arms around him when he returns to her side in the steps of the building. “Do you hear the false moans, my prince?” She pouts in sympathy for the unsatisfied women inside as they cross the threshold together. “We will make them scream so they never forget us.”

Oberyn smirks, holding her hand with no shame. He does not hide Ellaria, she is his paramour. Much more than that, although that is something that is kept between the two of them, private at her insistence so she does not become a liability to him. “We will, my love. Every whore in this brothel will pout when you leave.”

“Very pretty pouts, I hope.” Ellaria loves a very pretty pout when the time is right. To be begged to come back to bed. To have a lover cry her name with such passion that their heart aches for more. She saunters into the brothel beside Oberyn with her head high and looks around as the prettily dressed woman at the entrance fawns over Oberyn. Everyone fawns over Oberyn, that is of little interest to her.

Oberyn eyes the cunts and tits on display, lifting a brow when he sees earrings through one woman’s nipples. “I see we are in the right place.” He smirks, watching as Littlefinger rushes over to the pair.

“Prince Oberyn.” Though he does not ever bow deeply, he does bow, eyes tracking over to Ellaria with an oily smile. “My lady. What an honour to be graced with your presence. What can we provide for you this morning?”

“My lady?” Ellaria scoffs, making Oberyn smirk and squeeze her hand. “We will be needing accommodations for the duration of our stay in King’s Landing.” Most brothels do not rent rooms and he is sure that Littlefinger’s establishment is no different but Oberyn has learned that his title and the gold of his coin makes things possible when they previously weren’t. “For now, until it is ready, we need baths and whores to join us.”

“The duration of your stay?” The man does not bother to hide his surprise, but smiles broadly like the showman that he is. “I will send someone to ready your accommodations,” he promises, hand on heart. “Our baths are this way,” Littlefinger motions deeper into the building. “Do you have a preference for who should join you or shall I send you a variety to choose from?” There is enough gold dripping from the Prince of Dorne that Littlefinger will unfold the world of pleasure at his feet if that is what he wishes, without worry for his ability to pay what is owed.

“Your choicest men and women.” Oberyn looks over to Ellaria for her approval. “Clean.” He insists, although Littlefinger’s whores are always of a higher caliber than most. “We will send the others away once we have chosen.”

“Leyth.” Littlefinger waves to a tall, buxom girl with orange curls down to her waist. “Tend to the prince and his lady for me,” he instructs her, obviously trusting that she can do the job. “Anything they need, you will acquire for as long as they are here, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The girl called Leyth nods and smooths her thin skirt, looking between the beautiful prince and his stunning lady. “I will be happy to serve them.”

“Good.” The chuckle that bubbles out of Littlefinger is full of approval. “Take them to the baths and then fetch them food and wine.” He smiles at Oberyn, a thing dripping with false charm. “I will send you a selection of company to choose from.”

“Berries.” Oberyn adds, the need for fresh fruit after weeks on the road is great. Ellaria chuckles, well aware of his fondness for snacking, especially when he is fucking.

“Berries.” Leyth bats her eyelashes prettily as she leads the pair down the hall. “Do you prefer sweet things, your Grace?”

“Hmmmm.” He doesn’t answer one way or the other, although his gaze is sliding up and down her form and he reaches out to caress her ass through the sheer robe she is wearing.

She hums right back at him, playful but bidding, and slows her pace slightly to let him touch as they turn the corner to the bathing room. The deep bath in the floor sits full and waiting for paying customers, beautifully tiled with trays of soap and sponges for gently scrubbing skin. The oiled waters smell of flower petals, and two baths are even littered with the things. Leyth walks toward the bath of floral water with a sultry smile and a swing in her hips. “I will wash you with my own hands if that is your wish, after I fetch you food to break your fast.”

“What do you say my love?” Oberyn asks Ellaria. “Leyth and whoever catches our eyes?” He would love to see his paramour’s thighs spread for the orange haired beauty. “Or would you prefer to choose the woman?”

“You are lovely, Leyth.” Ellaria praises, already having decided that she likes this woman’s spirit as well as her figure. “We will see who else catches our eye when they arrive.”

“Show me your tits.” Oberyn commands the woman. Eager to see if they are as perky as they seem or if it is an illusion of the gown she is wearing.

Obedience is necessary to work for Littlefinger, but Leyth is lucky to have been given to this couple she finds so attractive. She slips the ties from her shoulders and lets her silken dress fall to the stone floor with pride. Her body is well worth selling and has given her a good living, so she proudly bares her large tits and curved waist to this prince when he demands it.

“Very nice.” Oberyn groans with a smirk. “They will look lovely bouncing when you ride my cock.” He predicts. “We can undress ourselves.” He promises, turning to Ellaria and pushing aside her own gown so he can cup her bare breast, tweaking an already hard nipple.

Ellaria moans happily when the girl excuses herself to fetch their food, and drops the traveling robe she was wearing to the ground immediately. “Lover…” she sighs, her body arching to seek Oberyn’s touch instinctively. “You were right about this place.”

“Of course I am right.” He teases playfully, leaning in and dragging his nose along her throat. “Now, we need to wash so we can be ready to play when the whores are brought in. I want to feed you fruit while a tongue is buried in your cunt.”

“Leyth is a beauty.” Ellaria disrobes easily and quickly, leaving her things scattered as she steps into the bath built deep into the floor. It is warm and smells sweet, like summer in the Water Gardens. “Pale, but I like her freckles.” She looks up at Oberyn with admiration as he shrugs off his own robes. “I like your freckles better, though.” Especially the one on the inside of his right thigh, high on his muscled leg where she can kiss it before swallowing his cock.

“Just like her tits are gorgeous, but yours have suckled four of my children.” His cock twitches and he kicks off his boots, throwing the loose, pale yellow shirt off and reaching for his leather breeches.

“Hers are bigger than mine.” Ellaria chuckles at the way he loves tits. “Enjoy them, lover. I know I shall.”

“You always do.” He chuckles, thanking the gods that his soulmate is just as adventurous as he is. “Maybe she will be the only one we choose for now.”

“Perhaps.” Sighing as she lays back in the water, Ellaria tilts her head and soaks her hair, enjoying the way she feels cleaner already. “Perhaps we will develop a taste for sun-red hair while we are here.”

“Whatever we develop a taste for, we will indulge in.” Oberyn does not mind sharing her, doesn’t get jealous because she is his sun and world. No one could break their bond.

“Come to me, lover.” She beckons him with both hands, pouting for him prettily. Now that travel is behind them, Oberyn is already cheerier and it lightens her heart. “Soak with me. It has been weeks since we had a bath.”

“With pleasure.” Stripped down, Oberyn strides over to the bath and starts to descend the stairs to join her in the deep tub.

Ellaria moves to him immediately, arms welcoming him home and lips finding his with a deeply satisfied moan. Her legs are around his waist as quickly as his hands find her ass, and his growing cock twitches against her soft skin.

Oberyn turns around, letting his paramour cling to him as he drops down onto the seat under the water. “I love you.” He murmurs quietly against his lips.

“As I love you.” Since the day they first spoke the words to each other they have not wavered, and Ellaria runs her hands across Oberyn’s skin reverently. “My warrior.”

“My sun.” Oberyn squeezes her ass and rocks her onto his hardening cock. “My world.” The passion between the pair has not wavered over the years, growing stronger in a way that could only be because of their soulmate bond.

“Oberyn.” No matter how many times she takes him, the stretch of his cock inside her takes her breath away. Her hands find his shoulders to cling to him as they find their pace, with his grip guiding her as she begins to bounce on his length in earnest.

“Too soon, my love?” He teases, knowing she is far more than adequately wet. She is dripping.

“Never.” She shakes her head before throwing it back, letting her moan ring out through the echoey chamber. “Never. I am always yours.”

Multi-tasking is a gift that Oberyn has. Results of a wandering spirit and a restless mind. It was one of the reasons he had joined the maesters and eventually left after forging eight links. He reaches for the perfumed soap and a rag to wash his lover.

They are fully enraptured with each other when Leyth returns, and she sets the tray down beside them before seeing about pouring two goblets of wine. It’s rare to have pairs of lovers visit the establishment but not unheard of, and she smiles indulgently, watching the passion they share for a moment before making herself known. “I can do that for you, your Grace,” she offers, knowing her employer will be upset if she neglects them.

Even with Ellaria impaled on his cock, Oberyn tears his mouth away from her lips and looks over at the woman. “Join us and bring the wine.” He orders. “Are the others coming?”

“They are right here.” Leyth slips into the water easily, taking the sponge from him and resumes the work of bathing his lady without missing a beat. Four women and two men all of varying ages and looks pour into the room behind her clad in next to nothing looking apprehensive.

“Do not be shy.” Oberyn turns Ellaria’s head and groans when she clenches down around him. “Any who wish to not join us may leave now.” He does not want someone who is timid.

The most tired looking of the women takes the youngest girl by the hand and leads her from the room with a respectful nod of her head, and one of the men bows before stepping out behind them. "Leaving us with five supple bodies to learn," Ellaria groans appreciatively. Between Oberyn's cock and Leyth's hands massaging her back as she washes her, this is surely already one of the seven heavens. One of the girls is the first to step forward, beautiful dark skin on display and bright eyes full of mischief as she easily discards her meager dress and slips into the water right away. She has heard legends of the second prince of Dorne and intends to find out for herself if they are true.

“Eager.” Oberyn chuckles and beckons her forward. “I like that.” His eyes slide past her towards the remaining man, tall and broad. His tawny skin clear and it’s obvious that his cock is starting to harden as he watches. “You—” he motions towards him. “Do you suck cock or like cock in your ass?”

"I like whatever you like, my lord." After all, is that not what he is here for? Being a man with a voracious appetite for pleasure makes him an asset in a place like this.

Oberyn growls, eyeing his cock tenting the loose trousers he is wearing. “Strip and join us if you are going to.”

Spacious as it is, there is not enough room for everyone in the bath, and the last remaining girl lays down bare on the edge after everyone has climbed in and patiently plays with herself while she waits her turn. There is plenty to feast her eyes on until one of them decides to bury their face in her pussy.

Twitching inside his lover, he kisses her gently and pulls her off his cock. “Go play, my love.” He urges her, knowing she wants to do more than just be touched.

"We may learn to enjoy King's Landing after all." Ellaria laughs, happily letting hands explore her skin. Leyth and the man gravitate toward Oberyn, and she is happy to drown herself in a sea of pussy until she is drunk on the sound of women's pleasure.

When he is close enough, Oberyn reaches down and cups the man’s cock firmly. “What is your name?” He demands, squeezing him gently and jerking him slowly.

"Cal, my lord." His eyelids flutter slightly at the firm touch, eager for more. "Or whatever you want it to be."

“Cal….” He smirks and presses his thumb against the head of the man’s cock. “Have you ever been fucked by a Prince?”

The way Cal shudders and his breath hitches is reverent, and he shakes his head as he tries to remember to breathe. "No, your Grace. But I would like to be."

He turns to Leyth, jerking his chin up. “Kiss me.” he orders, stretching his neck out and lets go of the man’s cock so he can slide his hand around him to press between the cheeks of his ass.

The room fills with moans as Leyth eagerly complies, licking into the prince's mouth with surety. She knows her skill and she hopes to impress, even pressing closer to him to wrap her own hand around his cock.

Oberyn hisses, his tongue sliding against hers happily as he finds Cal’s puckered hole quickly and starts to rub around the opening.Hands are everywhere as Cal lowers his head to lay kisses along the taut muscles of the prince's neck, one hand caressing his skin and the other groping for Leyth's breast to squeeze the supple flesh and play with her nipple. They are paired together often, when clients wish for a show, so he knows her body as well as any instrument.

“You are lovers.” Oberyn groans, pushing a finger inside the man’s quivering hole. On the other side of the bath, Ellaria and the ebony skinned beauty are tangled together in a passionate embrace.

"Sometimes." Leyth agrees, leaning over to give Cal a kiss without missing a single stroke of the prince's cock.

The sounds of heavy breathing and pleasure are filling the bathing room and he can feel the way Cal’s body squeezes his finger as he pumps it into him to stretch him out. “So do you want his cock or his tongue while I fuck him?”

"If I have his cock, I will feel every time you fuck into him." She moans at the idea, chest heaving with just the thought. "You will be driving us both wild with pleasure."

He chuckles and nods, pulling his fingers out of the other man. “Then get on your knees and let him slide inside your cunt.”

Kneeling on the bench where he had been sitting, Leyth presents herself easily for both men to appreciate and sighs out loud when the familiar stretch of Cal's cock presses inside of her wet heat. She knows that Cal is truly the one getting spoiled today and hopes the prince lives up to every rumour for his sake.

Oberyn can’t help but reach out and slap her ass and groans when her generous skin jiggles. “I will fuck you after I have had my fill of your lover.”

"He is insatiable," Ellaria offers, chuckling deeply before burying her face in the cunt nearest her talented mouth. Oberyn is not the only one with an endless appetite. It is one of the reasons that they have so much fun together.

“It has been two weeks.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. There hadn’t been any place to stop and fuck while on the road. He was pent up.

"No one here will complain, my lord." Cal promises, burying himself again in Leyth's cunt and groaning at her heat. "The stories of you are legend, and most of us are eager to know if they are true."

“They are true.” Ellaria pulls his tongue out of the cunt to purr her vote of confidence.

“Thank you, my love.” Oberyn chuckles and reaches for the oils that are kept on the edge of the bath for things such as this.

"Then we will add our praise to the stories that already exist." Soon Leyth will be able to do nothing but take the thrusts from the two men above her, but for now she meets each movement with a roll of her plush hips.

"We are yours for as long as you wish to stay." It is only half of a promise from Cal himself, having been instructed by Littlefinger himself to give Prince Oberyn whatever he wants, but at least now Cal can make the vow with pleasure.

Oberyn has no doubt that these people have been told to do whatever he or his paramour likes but he will only take what he deems right. “Only if I bring you both pleasure.”

"I cannot imagine you have trouble giving pleasure." Cal moans, bending over Leyth's back to present himself to the prince for the taking.

Coating his cock in enough oil to wash his entrance, the water in the bath sloshes as he shuffles closer and takes himself in hand. Pressing closer and pushing the head of his cock against the other man’s hole and slowly rolls his hips forward to break him open.

Cal curses, eyes rolling back into his head as the prince's girth fills him, and in turn pushes his cock further into Leyth's fluttering pussy. The bathing room may as well be their own private party in this moment, because of the large handful of people indulging in each other no one notices Littlefinger lurking by the doorway. True pleasure is rare in a whorehouse, so this is sure to be a lucrative visit for the proprietor.

Oberyn lets out a lusty groan when his hips are flush against the other man’s ass. “You do not flinch away.” He praises, wrapping his long arms around the man so he can cup Leyth’s generous breasts while he waits for the man’s muscles to relax around him.

“Pleasure is a gift.” Cal’s body shudders as he takes Oberyn fully, the stretch of him making the man pant and reach back to grasp the prince’s hip. “You have a very large gift, my lord.”

Oberyn chuckles quietly, pleased with Cal’s words and leans in to nibble on his ear. Enjoying the way he shudders again. “Let me show you what I can do with that gift.”

******

The Red Keep looms above you when you finally step out of your carriage, trying with all your might to block out your mother’s voice muttering indignities that your party was not greeted by a royal retinue at the city line. What utter nonsense. Your house is ancient and wealthy, yes, but certainly not royal and there is no reason for the royal Baratheons or Lannisters to pay you any heed. At least, outside the carriage, you can finally be more than a foot and a half away from your mother again.

“Alright, pumpkin?” Your father beams down at you before swinging off of his horse.

“Of course, Papa.” Of course not is the truth, but after days of spitting venom you are too tired to put up much of a fight. Besides, now that you know this is your mother’s doing, it is hard to be upset with your father for simply being a fool.

Your father beams at you as he steps beside you and offers you his arm. Not having an opportunity to talk much on the road, he wants to assure you. “I understand you are nervous because you have not been to Dorne, but your grandmother and her mother are from Dorne.” He reminds you. “And there is family in Braavos and across the Narrow Sea.” The long tradition of finding love outside the Vale is common, your father finding the free-spirited prince to be a far worthier match for you than some sniveling little lord grasping for favor. The idea that his daughter will be princess is also a factor.

“I shall visit them all at my earliest ability.” The idea of traveling to see family you have never met sounds infinitely preferable to spending even a minute in the presence of the prince you never agreed to wed, and for a moment you almost relax at the idea.

“I doubt your husband will allow anything other than you spitting out his heirs for the next few years.” Your mother scoffs. “You will be visiting his bed.”

“That is not for you to know or to decide.” You tell her, though the fact that she may be right makes you sick to your stomach. Two steps behind the three of you, Raeden could not have missed the comment but you cannot exactly turn to look at him.

Raeden keeps his gaze down, your mother’s words in his mind as he tries to decide if he had made the right choice. Perhaps he should have run away with you. He’s noticed the captain of your father’s guard eyeing him so he had tried to be as impassive as possible. His heart aches at the idea of you in the Prince’s bed, despite the rumors of his prowess and propensity for men and women, something that he shamefully shares with the Prince of Dorne. He had fought his attraction to the other men around him. Not even sharing it with you.

“My lord. My ladies.” A steward in the hallway bows to you dutifully and opens his mouth to welcome you to the Red Keep, but a swish of skirts and a silky smooth voice cuts him off from behind. “Lollard, I will greet my guests,” she instructs, sounding nearly severe before her voice pitches up to something delighted and seemingly terribly excited. “I was so pleased to see your banner approach that I could not help myself.” The woman declares, and you cannot tell if she means it or not. “Lady Margaery Tyrell,” she introduces herself with a broad smile. “It was I who sent your invitation. Welcome to King’s Landing, and to the Red Keep.”

“You are even more beautiful than your portrait, Lady Margaery,” your mother gushes, simpering to the woman who appeared to be several years younger than even you. “And how thoughtful of you to include our House in your nuptial feast. We are honoured.”

“It is I who am honoured.” She steps toward you with a smile. “To have the future princess of Dorne amongst my guests, and of course the ancient connection between our Houses makes us loving cousins, does it not?” The marriage of a Tyrell daughter into your House was four generations ago, but Margaery has never been one to overlook a string that might be pulled in her favour. At least not after her grandmother pointed it out.

Future princess of Dorne. Raeden’s fists clench at his sides as he tries to ignore the fury in his heart at that simple phrase. You will be a princess, and the gap between your stations will be more vast than before.

“We are flattered by such a personal welcome.” Beside you, your father is talking and patting your hand on his arm, but you barely hear him. Each time another person calls you princess or refers to the man who bought you, you feel closer and closer to being sick all over the floor. Or perhaps sinking in a wasting depression. If both are possible simultaneously, that may be the answer.

“Forgive me.” When you find your voice it almost cracks, but you put one hand to your stomach delicately. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Margaery, but I am afraid I feel quite ill from weeks of travel. Would it be possible to be escorted to our chamber so that I might be well enough for a turn around the gardens later?” An ally – any ally – may be worth grasping, and you enjoy the way this young woman made your mother frown by not paying attention to her. For right now, though, you would do anything to be alone so that Raeden could visit you.

“Forgive me.” Margaery bows her head respectfully and gives a small, sincere smile. “My manners have forsaken me.” She gestures towards the keep. “Allow me to show you personally to your rooms. A light repast has been laid out for your pleasure as well.”

“How very kind of you,” you murmur, knowing you won’t touch a thing. The reality of your situation has stolen your normally healthy appetite.

Clever blue eyes catch the subtle grimace when she mentions food and yet she doesn’t comment on it. Sensing that you will have much to talk about, Margaery had invited you to stay in the keep as her guest after learning of your betrothal to Oberyn Martell. “This way.” She smiles and motions towards the left corridor.

Though you might not be fond of the games of society, you were raised in them, and you have sense enough that when the future queen offers you her arm you take it. That is how the first glimpse many guests to court ever have of you is strolling arm-in-arm with the woman who will become queen in two days time. It does not matter that you just met. It does not matter that she is chattering away politely while you simply smile your polite smile and nod. The future queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the future princess of Dorne paint a very pretty picture on their way through the halls of the Red Keep with your family trailing behind. If you weren’t so desperate to be alone with Raeden again and attempt to forget all this is happening, you might more fully enjoy the way your mother is green with envy.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #reader x m!OC #male OC #female reader #male original character #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage

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ebonyslasher · 10 months

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Spicy Alphabet: Brahms Heelshire

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's either cuddling you or playing with you some more to go for another round. As far as cleaning up, you'll be the only one cleaning. He's content with laying in those juices.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His legs are quite nice for someone who's been in the walls. They are toned and hairy, which makes him feel more like a man.

Your genitals are his favorite. It's the site of pleasure that he can't get enough of. Your private parts were beautiful and his favorite to touch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Anywhere. Brahms will cum anywhere on you. He likes feeling cum on himself. He shoots a mean load too. It's pretty astounding.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Considering his whole existence was a dirty secret, he has plenty.

He builds a makeshift sex doll of every nanny that works for his family. Stealing hair, clothes, art supplies, etc to get the doll as close to them as possible.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced at all. Although he is an avid masturbator and will read any topic he can on sex. Brahms will learn pretty quickly and will surprise you with tricks he's always wanted to try.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Brahms is neutral. Being goofy is not on his mind when he's in horny mode. However, he can be childish. So weird noises and sex lines will make him giggle.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Unkempt unless you trim it for him

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Moderately romantic. Sometimes it's verbal and/or physical. He's vocal about how attractive you are.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

There was one year where he jacked off daily. He wants to beat that record.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Let's see…voyeurism, mommy/daddy little guy, diapers, roleplay, cock milking, ruined orgasm, and much more.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere through the wall. He loves gloryholes

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you wear any sexy maid outfits while cleaning or taking care of him. Flashing him randomly. Vulgar dirty talking.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't like to be bound, so no rigging. No candles/anything that would require fire. He also doesn't want to be humiliated about anything he's into.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

40% giver and 60% receiver. His skill could use some work. He'll only do oral on you for a few minutes, then he's ready to do something else.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fucks like a rabbit. He will calm down over time, but he will still be fast-paced

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves quickies. He especially likes to make a teasing game out of it. Doing regular activities with random sprinkles of quickies. Getting into action in one position for a few minutes, stopping, wandering off elsewhere, and then more action again. It gives him an explosive finish.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, whatever either of you wants to try. He's very insistent on trying out crazy fetishes. Brahms won't care if you're uncomfortable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

How many rounds he can go in one session is 3. Spaced out through the day: 5. He lasts around 20 minutes for each one

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He makes his own sex toys. He'd also very much appreciate if you buy him toys. He'll use them often.

He would like to use sex toys on you or just watch you use them on yourself. Preferably if you weren't intending on him to watch.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Brahms is more unfair to himself since he has a habit of trying to give himself blue balls before giving in. In turn, it teases you as well - although that isn't his intention.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud 📢! Not afraid to moan and talk to you. Brahms begs a lot with a low, whiny tone. He sounds desperate the whole time.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He told you that he wanted to get you pregnant so you could breastfeed him. You looked at him with various degrees of crazy, depending on how possible that idea could even be.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A solid 6. He's uncut. The skin on his penis is slightly more tan than the rest of his body. his girth is on the skinnier side

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Go get a telescope 🔭 and look into space. That'll give you an idea of how high his sex drive is.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he has no intention of a multiple-round session, then he's taking a nap.

#brahms heelshire x reader #brahms x reader #slasher x reader #spicy alphabet #grown folks business #x black reader

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aaakikoo · 9 months

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SOMETHING PRECIOUS

summary -> when you think that you have nothing in your life other to get married to the prince your parents set you up with, someone else comes along your way.

paring -> bodyguard b. katsuki x f! princess reader

an -> finally I posted the first part after a month of posting the m.list 😭. We are already on the first part and I want this to end.

warnings -> cursing, crying, jealousy, (cheating?), injury, blood, smut, tell me if I missed any!

series m.list - this is part 1

“Are you ready, your highness?” You heard outside your bedroom, “almost done, wait up!” You yelled back at your maid, she was waiting for you to exit the room so she could finish her cleaning duty.

“Alright I’m done, see you later.” You waved at her as you began walking towards to the main hall. You were meeting with your parents, the king and the queen of the kingdom.

Your father had told you that the discussion would be serious so you didn’t know what to except.

Your father has always been loving, he cared for you and wished you the best, but sometimes he could be a little too strict, and a little hotheaded too. But overall he loved you so much.

As you arrived at the main hall and the guards opened the doors for you to enter.

The second you walked in you saw your as as always beautiful mother, the queen of the kingdom. She always understood you so well and she was so sweet to you during the hardest times.

Your eyes drifted to your father as he was smiling at you. However the figure standing next to your father was unfamiliar.

You took a seat infront of your mother and behind your father.

“Hello, I am here.” You joked, “y/n, we have to discuss a serious topic with you.” Your mother began.

“You know there have been an increasing level in crimes recently right?” She asked already knowing her answer.

“Yes, mother.” You replied back while fidgeting with your hands under the table.

“We’ve been trying to solve the issue in the kingdom, there have been more peace in most parts but there are still a high level of crimes in the shady areas of the kingdoms.” Your mom said before taking in a deep breath.

“As your parents we are worried for you.”

Your father spoke, “so we hired you a bodyguard. He is a retired pro-hero that will be by your side to defend you at any minor incident.”

You didn’t know what to say at this point, speechless.

“Hello, your highness. My name is Katsuki Bakugou, it is a very much pleasure to meet you.” You turned around to look at the man’s face but you couldn’t.

He half bowed at you with his left palm on his right chest.

“H-hello.” You said in response.

“Darling, he will be guiding your room at night and he will be following you during the day, if you feel uncomfortable you should tell me immediately so we can change the bodyguard.” Your mother said with eyes full of hope for the best.

“O-oh okay, mother.”

“Soo..what’s your name?” You asked while taking a sip from your drink.

“I have already told you, your highness. It is Katsuki Bakugou.” The man in black tux suit said.

“Oh right, what’s your favourite food?” You asked him once again.

“I like anything spicy.” He replied with all seriousness.

The weird part about this conversation is that while you are sitting in the sun sipping from your drink he was standing right behind you so you can’t even see him.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” You looked at him now.

“I am here to defend you, not to be your friend, your highness.” He said not bothering to look at you.

You scoffed and stood up, heading back to your room annoyed. Not expecting his heavy footsteps to be following along. You sighed.

You woke up the next day early and worried. You were supposed to be meeting with the prince from the neighboring kingdom. Right, the annoying one. His family are just as wealthy as yours, if not more, with a lot of money and power, huge armies and a lot of resources.

Your fathers goal is for you to marry the prince. So that those two kingdoms can unite and the power would still remain in the royal families.

However there was only one issue.

You absolutely despised the prince, his name is Shouto Todoroki.

You absolutely hated his white shiny that would flash at you whenever he’d show his annoying smirk. You absolutely hated his cocky attitude and his idiotic personality. You hated everything about the man.

It is the fourth meeting this month and you’ve already had enough.

After getting ready you got out of your bedroom only to be met with tired red eyes.

“O-oh good morning, Bakugou.” You greeted, “good morning, your highness, slept well?” He asked, “yes, have you?” You asked the man, knowing the answer yourself.

“Not so very well.” He replied, “good news for you then, I’ll be having breakfast with my family so you can take a rest.” You said leaving, not bothering to hear anything from him.

“Good morning, y/n. Excited for today?” Your father said just as soon as the butlers and the maids left the dinning room. “No, father.” You replied drinking the last sip of your tea.

“Why not, sweetheart?” Your mother asked, “I don’t like the prince.”

Your mother laughed.

“That’s nonsense, he will be your future husband.” Your dad said cleaning off his plate, “I am aware, but I do not like him, father.”

“Well unfortunately, you’re not getting married for love here. go to your room and get properly ready and dressed, the royal family will be here in a few hours.” Your mother waved you off as she called for the maids to clean the table.

You quickly got out and headed to your room. As soon as you hopped on your bed you screamed into your pillow.

“Why does this have to happen with me?” You thought.

A knock on your door drew your attention as you yelled, “come in!”

A tall blond man walked in, “had a good breakfast?” He asked, “yeah except for the fact that we talked about the that prince Todoroki and his family are coming to see us, for the fourth fucking time this month!” You yelled the last part.

“I suggest you watch your mouth, your highness. Nobel princess don’t speak like that.” He joked as he crossed his muscular arms over his chest.

“Nor am I Nobel, and nor do I wanna be a princess.” You said annoyed.

A moment of silence followed.

“I hate prince Todoroki, everything about him annoys me, his looks and his personality and all the above again. But my father is so eager on getting us married for power.” You complained to the blond man who had absolutely zero business in your life.

“I would sit and comfort you, but that’s not my job. Get up and get dressed, these are orders from the queen.” He said seriously and you sighed.

Another of moment of silence follows as you got up from your bed.

“I have thought of running away many times.” You let your mouth run, when you realized what you had said you slapped your lips.

“Y-you aren’t going to tell that to my parents, right?” You asked worriedly as Bakugou nodded.

“That’s not a part of my job either.”

You smiled a little bit. “I’ve always thought of running away. There were a lot of days where I felt super lonely, nobody understood me because they all cared about money, power and fame. I have no friends here, and I do not want to get married to someone I don’t love.” You vented to the blond man next to you, you felt hot tears rolling down both of your cheeks, you tried whipping them away before you saw that your bodyguard was handing you a handkerchief.

“Don’t cry, princesses don’t cry.” He said as you took the handkerchief from the man, he gently patted your head as you both heard your maid from the other side of the door.

“Your highness, are you inside? The queen sent me to do your hair!”

“You may enter.”

Bakugou quickly pulled away his hand from your head before muttering a “see you later” and leaving.

“It’s all done, your highness! You look so incredibly good, I know the prince will love the dress!” Your maid in excitement.

“Thank you, looks good indeed. You are free to leave now.” You said as she bowed to you and left.

You took a deeper look at yourself, dark wine red dress pared with white heels, a pretty blow out and perfectly matched makeup, in addition to golden jewellery dangling around your neck, behind your ears, around your fingers and wrists.

You left your room to see Bakugou standing there, he eyed you quickly before taking a step behind you so you can walk in front of him.

As you arrived at the main hall you felt your stomach drop when you saw the prince. You wanted to throw up already. Bakugou pulled your chair for you to sit on as he stood behind you.

“Who’s this?” Prince Todorokis mother asked.

“How about we let him introduce himself.” Your mother said.

“Good evening, my name is Katsuki Bakugou, I am Princess y/n l/n’s bodyguard.” He said as he bowed down to everyone.

“You may take your leave.” Your father said and just like that, the blond man was gone.

After a good five minutes of the kings and queens speaking to each other, the prince said, “you look wonderful as always princess, can’t wait to have you all to myself.” You almost gagged at his disgusting comment, you didn’t reply though only a nod with a smile.

After the long meeting and boring meeting, you headed back to your quarters to see your blond bodyguard already guarding it.

When he saw you approach he opened the door to your room. You looked around for a second before whispering to him, “get in with me.” You told him and he obeyed.

You sat down at your bed and kicked off your heels, “how was the meeting, princess?” Bakugou asked taking your heels and putting them in your closet.

“Fucking shitty” you spat.

“How so?” The blond asked, looking around your room, to avoid your gaze.

“That stupid fucking prince, he pisses me off so much!” You said annoyed.

“Cheer up, at least you won’t see him for probably another month, right?” Bakugou said trying to lighten up the mood.

“Yeah, we probably won’t have another meeting but he always just appears by himself randomly. That dog.”

A knock on your door draws your attention as you scream “enter!”

Your mother comes in and Bakugou half bends when she completely enters the room.

“Y/n, come with me. We’re discussing something important.”

You stared at your mother with nothing to say. “I’ll be there in a moment.” You said and she wasn’t satisfied.

“Your majesty, I’ll escort the princess very soon.” Bakugou spoke and she smiled.

“Thank you, we are waiting y/n.”

As you took a seat with your parents both their attentions drew to you. Your father put down his cup of tea as he dismissed the maids.

“What did you want to talk about?” You asked.

“Since you left earlier with no explanation whatsoever. Which is by the way so disrespectful of you, me and your father and prince Todoroki’s parents discussed the wedding.” As your mother finished her statement you groaned.

“Y/N!” Your father slammed his fist onto his chair and yelled. Both you and your mother were shocked.

“Pay attention! Your wedding is going to be in a year. So we will start preparing starting next week, to make sure that it will be the best wedding ever this kingdom had seen.”

“Father. You know I don’t love the prince.”

“Y/n. You know this isn’t about love.” Your mother said as your father was rubbing his forehead.

At this point you didn’t bother anymore. You dismissed yourself and headed back to your quarters.

Your parents words were running in your mind like crazy, after all they really don’t care about your feelings at all.

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kingmagnificoofrosas · 1 day

Text

It really hurts me how bad this poor man was treated and still is by Disney and some empathy and compassion lacking, not-thinking peewees.

My biggest rant post in cooperation with Magnificolover from Insta is still cooking. And let me tell you, it's gonna be spicy, blunt and long.

Mags might be the star of the show but this topic goes beyond him.

Furthermore, I keep hearing that more and more children are siding with Magnifico. Children!! My people!

Now, teens and adults hating and shitting on Mags because they cannot see past the rim of their plate of narrow-mindedness is one issue by itself, but you know something is seriously wrong when children tell you "But he isn't a villian at all!" But the the others around him! And yes, like him a bunch more than Asha.

I know that disney intented to create a nice story with another lovable heroine but instead we got a deeply traumatized, altruistic man, who, despite his great pain, built an untopia just for the reason so others would never have to suffer like he did. He constantly gave, cared more for others than himself, only wanted love and some respect in return. But got none of that! He didn't get love, he was constantly kicked and picked at his scars. He's not being taken serious, and only ever seen as a source for favors and a scapegoat. No one was ever there for him. He had no one! Not even a sidekick! No one ever saw and heard him, took him into their arms and let him breathe. This man struggled and drowned and people watched, worse even pushed him down further!

And worse of all, he was pushed to the point of mental breakdown, where he was so terrified and done that he got himself cursed and possessed by an evil force. And then the people who had gotten everything from him and still treated him like shit locked him up to suffer even more for eternity?

This is so so wrong! What the actual frick! My God! The whole movie is a horror show! Magnificolover and I have been fighting for Mags and against this toxic shitshow that disney pulled for over six months now and we won't stop!

If someone really takes the time to carefully read our analyses (which are explained down to the tiniest nitty gritty detail) and still sees Magnifico as a villain ( purely evil person/being) then there is something seriously wrong with them! Why are such people and disney acting like heartless monsters?

We don't want that! You think something like this is fun to watch? Seeing a broken man getting broken even further because people are greedy, ignorant and selfish is not fun! This is horrible! It's sickening to stomach if anything!

This doesn't celebrate everything good that disney has stood for those past 10 decates! It spits at it and in the faces of everyone who truly loved the content this company has given in the past.

You want a real villain? MAKE ONE! For goodness sake! But not, whatever the obnoxious toxcitity shit, that happened with Magnifico.

We hate it! I hate it!

If I could sing one song to Magnifico, it would be this from Lewis Capaldi :

In the moment you feel half complete

Know the moments are temporary

When the fear fuels the fire underneath

I'm gonna love the hell out of you

Take all the pain that you're going through

And I'll bring you heaven if that's what you need

'Cause you've always loved the hell out of me

You don't want him? Fine! I'll take him and not give him back ever again! If someone cannot see this man is a jackpot on two legs that's their problem not mine.

Magnifico is many things but most definitly not : a villain, a bad person and a sextoy.

#rant post #venting post #king magnifico #team magnifico #magnifico defenders #king magnifico isn't a villain

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themeatpit37 · 2 days

Note

I love your Jack headcanons! Do you have some more random Jack headcanons?

Awwww! You’re such a sweetheart! Thank you so much! I’ll get a fresh batch of headcanons just for you!

💙☀️Sunny Day Jack Random Headcanons!☀️💙

One thing about Jack that I personally headcanon is that his body is really warm, like a huge heating pad! Maybe this is a little self indulgent to believe, but he is warm to the touch (Shockingly so since y’know. He isn’t exactly alive…) and you know full well he takes advantage of that! His sunshine is cold? Well he’ll immediately suggest huddling up for warmth! I mean, he’s big and soft anyways so it’s not like there’s a reason to decline his request.

I feel that due to him dying in character, memories of his time playing Sunny Day Jack and memories of his life kinda mishmashed into a strange mess of real and fake memories. This further causes him to forget who he used to be and lose his grip of the reality he once had. But he hates his former self anyways, so he doesn’t mind losing himself to madness if it means becoming an individual he considers to be perfect.

This one is a little sillier but Jack has so much natural charisma and is so good at manipulating people that he could probably become a cult leader! This mostly was inspired by my Sunny Day Jack themed Cult of the Lamb play-through that in turn created my CloudyCult au!

One thing Jack loves is caring for others (this is literally on his description sheet) but what he doesn’t mention is that he actually gets really emotional the more his sunshine shows that they trust him, especially if they’re a distant or cold type of person. If he offers to run you a bath or help ground you during a serious emotional/mental breakdown and you accept it, he has to take a moment to pause so he doesn’t get all teary eyed. Trust is very important to him and being open is what he values the most, so he loves nothing more than his sunshine letting themselves being cared for.

Not only does Jack like birthday cake and cotton candy flavored things (as shown by his favorite froyo cup) but he also absolutely loves cookie dough, gummy bears, marshmallows, and caramel! Any of these in a frozen yogurt made just for him is a wonderful little treat! And before anyone asks, no he does not care that the gummy bears get hard. He eats around them and saves them as a special treat for after he eats his froyo.

Jack loves collecting little fun facts. It’s his favorite thing! If you got fun facts then please give them to him! If you are the type to infodump then PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE INFODUMP ON HIM!!!! HE LIKES IT!!! IT’S HIS FAVORITE THING!!! Especially if it’s for an obscure topic! Please! Please! Please! He is begging! Give him facts about birds! Give him facts about movies even if he knows nothing about them! Give him facts about cooking! He wants you to!

Jack is fully aware how attractive he is, he is just very humble and doesn’t brag all that much. He also knows how much his sunshine fixates on his chest and his soft curves no matter how respectful and or how much they try to hide it. He doesn’t mind at all though and may tease them a little! He’ll act oblivious though because he thinks it’s cute to see his sunshine get all flustered and embarrassed while they assume he has no clue that they enjoy it. He knows though and he will totally smother his beloved sunshine with his big honker badonkers just to see them blush.

He will never admit it but he thinks any size difference between him and his sunshine is kinda hot. There’s just something about being so big and having someone much smaller by his side that sparks something in him! It doesn’t even have to be spicy, sometimes he just likes comparing hand sides because to him it shows he is big and strong enough to protect the person he loves the most! By the way, feel free to ask him to lay on top of you. He is like a big, warm weighted blanket and he knows it!

There you go! One fresh batch of headcanons! Hope you enjoyed them!

#sunny day jack #something’s wrong with sunny day jack #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #swwsdj #sdj #sunny day jack headcanons

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turtlecleric · 2 months

Text

What Did I Do?

---

Rise!Raph x Reader - NSFW with HEAVY ANGST - I'm serious, there is so much hurt and NO comfort. This is not a spicy fic with a twist at the end to make it all better. No one has a good time in this. HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS. (3403 words)

CWs: kidnapping, being drugged/forced into an altered state of mind, FORCED NON CON, shock torture, blood, murder

This is your last warning - please take care of yourself and skip this if these topics are uncomfortable for you! Especially my dears on the tag list, please please please ignore this one if these topics are upsetting!!

---

When Raphael wakes, the first thing he notices is a smell. He can’t quite place it, but it's everywhere, and it makes something stir deep in his gut, makes something primal and dangerous thrum in his veins. He has to push it down to even try focusing on anything else.

The second thing he notices is a sound. A sort of… whirring. Or maybe humming? He isn’t quite sure. The smell is really, really distracting.

Wait, what’s happening again? Where is he?

His eyes blink open. Metal ceiling. Metal floor. Metal walls. And to his right, there’s a metal table with-

No. Oh, no.

Adrenaline floods through him, memories of the fight before the tranquilizers took him down flashing in his mind. He struggles to coordinate his limbs, tries to push himself up and fails. He falls once, twice. Again. Again. He can’t think straight, can’t use his muscles like he should. When he finally manages to stand and stumble over to the table, sick horror wraps around his throat and tightens like a noose.

You’re on your back, naked except for the ropes wrapped around you and some sort of… metal collar around your neck. Arms tied behind you, legs bent and bound so that your calves are flush against the underside of your thighs. There’s a ball gag in your mouth, and a machine is steadily pumping an enormous dildo in and out of you. It’s the whirring of this machine that he was hearing when he woke up, and the smell, he realizes, is you. The smell of your slick, your sweat, your tears and spit running down your face, and then he recognizes the smell of blood-

Raph reaches for you and pulls you away from the machine carefully. Thankfully there’s nothing stopping him from doing so, but once you’re in his arms he can feel how much you’re shaking. Can see how unfocused your eyes are as tears stream steadily down the sides of your face. You’re not reacting to him. Even when he says your name, there’s no recognition, no change in your eyes. There’s only fear.

A man’s voice sounds from everywhere at once.

“We’ve been stretching her out for you. Preparing her for this.”

Raph feels his horror mix with rage. Confusion. Desperation. This is- this is sick. Whatever is happening, whatever these fuckers want, it doesn’t matter. He’s getting you out. He holds you closer to his plastron and reaches for his ninpo, tries to to breathe through the heaviness in his limbs and the fog in his brain. Latches on to his rage like a lifeline, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see red sparks start running up and down his arms.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Raph bares his teeth at the ceiling, looking around for a window, a security camera, anything. There’s nothing. Just metal. “As if I’m listening to you,” he snarls. “I don’t care who you are, when I find you I’m going to rip you limb from limb for this.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Suddenly you’re jerking in his arms, every muscle in your body tensing as guttural screams rip from your throat, muffled by the gag in your mouth. The sparks along Raph’s arms disappear as he panics and reaches for the collar around your neck. When he tries to pry it off of you, your shrieking and twisting worsen, and he pulls his hand away like he’s been burned. “Stop, stop, please,” he begs, turning his face to the ceiling. “Okay, I’m stopping, I’m not doing anything, please!”

You choke, and then your body relaxes, still trembling but no longer convulsing like before. You let out a whimper with every exhale, your chest heaving with sobs as you struggle to breathe. It’s like a gaping wound in his chest, how he feels listening to the sounds you’re making. A sharp drag of claws across the inside of his ribcage. He shakes his head weakly, watching your eyes flutter, watching you shudder as he holds you in his arms helplessly. He leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He can smell something burning, and when he lifts his head and looks at you more closely he realizes it must be your skin beneath the collar. The rage is still there - suffocating, overwhelming - but what can he do that won’t end with you hurting more?

“What do you want?” Raph grits out.

“I want more of you,” the voice says, seemingly bored. “It’s my job to ensure the earth’s protection, and we need some kind of contingency plan if another invasion happens. I saw how your family stepped up ten years ago with the krang. With how powerful you four are, I can only imagine how powerful any offspring would be when raised and trained properly.”

The words hit Raphael like a truck. His jaw drops, his eyes falling to your face as he tries to process the fucked up implications in them. He thinks he might actually throw up. Then a hissing sound pulls his attention, and he looks up to see that holes have appeared in the ceiling. There’s the unmistakable shimmer in the air around them that means they’re blowing some sort of gas into the room.

“We’ve noticed that you and your brothers don’t have naturally occurring mating seasons. Don’t worry, we’ve prepared for that, as well.”

The rage and panic threaten to overwhelm him completely. He’s shaking now, as well, clenching his jaw so tight he just might crack a tooth with the force of it, and almost immediately the effects of the gas hit him. His vision goes a little hazy, that stirring in his gut from earlier returning a hundred times worse. Suddenly, the feeling of you in his arms makes his chest rumble with a churr, and the smell of you has his eyes roll back in his head.

NO.

Raph shakes his head violently, his entire body shuddering as he places you gently on the floor. He needs to get away from you. Now. He stumbles to the far corner of the room, trying to breathe through the way his body is- his body is- is-

Wait. What's happening again?

He was… fighting something? Or- or resisting… something… but… he turns, taking in the sight of the room. You're here? You're here with him, and he doesn't see a threat or… it's just you. You, you, you, that's all he can think about. He can smell you. He can smell- fuck, you smell amazing. He can't quite… focus…

His mate. His mate is here. That's all that matters. You're here, and you're his, and…

Right?

Wait, this isn't… No. No, he has to stay away from you. This is all so fucked up, this isn't right. You haven't agreed to any of this, he shouldn't…

Every breath makes it harder to think. The smell of you is everywhere. His body is one enormous, pulsing heartbeat. He can't think. He can't-

Why isn't he holding you? Kissing you? You smell like sex, and you're his, so why isn't he fucking you right now? Why isn't he- he swivels, disoriented, seeking you out. There. You're right there, waiting for him. Ready and open and wet, just for him.

No, no, this is all wrong. Isn't it? Something is wrong. Raph tries to shake his head again, desperately tries, tries, tries to remember what's happening, to stay present in his own mind, but his thoughts are so goddamn scattered. He feels himself slipping, but he doesn't know how. There's this pull that he feels in every part of him, this need to be near you. Touch you. Hold you.

Why isn't he---

The relief is staggering when he cradles you against his plastron. You're warm in his arms. Smell so good. Why did he ever leave you? He should stay with you always, his perfect, pretty little mate. Pretty and warm and soft. He'll take care of you. Fill you up, fuck pretty little babies into you. You're already wet and ready for him, perfect, his, his, his, and- oh. The sound you make when he presses himself inside you only makes his spine tingle more. You feel so fucking good around him. Taking him like you were meant to, perfect thing just for him. Pretty noises, pretty mate, so pretty beneath him. He gets lost in the feeling of you clenching around him, writhing beneath him. You're perfect. Tight and wet and so, so-

Why are you screaming?

He can't stop rutting into you, but he does manage to slow the movement of his hips just a bit. Maybe he's going too fast. It's okay. It's okay, he'll take care of you, pretty girl. You're his. Nobody can hurt you when he's here. He'll go slower. Be more careful. He rubs his snout against your forehead, churrs a little louder. It's okay.

There's this burning smell peeking through the heavy scent of sex now that his snout is pressed against your throat. Burning and blood. But it's only him and you - no danger that he can see. No threats. He licks along your jaw. Nuzzles into your ear. But it's not enough, because you're still screaming, but you're safe? It's only him here. So why- he can't remember wh-

Hissing. Something is. Hissing.

You feel so good. You're so good. Good mate. Pretty, perfect thing. Letting him breed you, letting him-

Why are you crying? Why does he smell so much blood? He can't think. Can't focus past the haze in his mind and the fire in his belly and the way you feel so goddamn good around his cock. He can't- fuck, he can't help but lose himself in the feeling of fucking you.

But you- you're-

Something is wrong. You shouldn't be making those sounds. Like you're in pain, like you…

His perfect mate. It's okay. He'll take care of you. Protect you. No one will hurt you, it's okay. It's okay.

When you go competely still and quiet beneath him, his churr makes something metallic in the room rattle. You just needed time to adjust. Perfect, pretty little thing, just needed some time. Even when he starts to go faster, harder than before, you're still and quiet. Such a perfect, pretty thing taking him so well. Good mate. So good for him. Just for him, you're his, and he's going to take care of you.

The third release he spills inside of you lifts the fog enough for him to realize that your eyes are closed. Your face is slack. He starts to pull back, confusion and concern cutting through the waves of pleasure, but then there's a hissing sound. A shimmer in the air.

What was he…

You feel so good around him.

---

This Bishop guy isn't going to give them anything useful. Leo can already tell. They've only just finished tying him up and started asking questions, but Leo has learned over the years who will and won't talk. He's just spouting bullshit about protecting the earth, making necessary sacrifices, blah blah blah. And while they play at interrogation, these government guys could be doing anything to Raph. They don't have the luxury of time.

Leo turns his focus to the wall of computers and buttons behind Bishop, instead, and nods toward it. “Dee.”

Donnie sweeps past Bishop, reaching out and connecting his ninpo to the tech there. The room lights up purple, and then Donnie speaks. “Tracker was accurate. Raph is just on the other side of this wall.” One of the screens comes to life, a live feed showing the hulking figure of their brother hunched over something on the floor. They can't see his face, but the relief of seeing him clearly alive is enough to relax Leo's shoulders a bit. Still. Raph is… he's moving strangely. Almost like… “There's several safety measures in place to prevent a breach, plus some sort of gas they've been pumping in there and a remote connection to a shock collar. I've disabled all of them.”

Donnie goes on to say something about applying a virus that will shut down the mainframe for good and erase any and all information that's even remotely related to them. Leo flicks his eyes back to Bishop, smirking when he sees the man's lips and brow twitch. He's annoyed. Good. In a different situation, Leo might have fun making this bastard regret every decision he's made that led him to this moment. But they have more important things to worry about.

“Alright,” Leo says. “Let's get him out of-”

Bishop scoffs suddenly. Mikey winces in Leo's peripheral vision, knowing what's coming when Leo pauses. Waits.

“You think it's over? I've got plans, mutant. Big plans. The snapper is just the beginning.”

The rage simmers beneath Leo's scales, but he's long since learned how to breathe past that. He crouches and holds Bishop's gaze, studying what he sees there, and when Leo speaks again, his voice is flat. “You're a smart guy, Bishop.”

“Not smart enough to keep his mouth shut,” Donnie mumbles dryly. Leo continues.

“I'm sure you do have plans. But if you wanted to live long enough to see them through-” Bishop opens his mouth to reply, but before he can make a sound, Leo snaps his neck. “-then you never should've fucked with my family.”

Mikey makes a sound of discomfort behind him. Another nod from Leo, and Donnie summons an array of lasers that makes the wall in front of them turn to ash.

Leo waits for the dust to clear before he steps through the opening. Immediately, the smell of sex and blood hits him. It's overwhelming, but still Leo manages to keep his wits about him and - there. He's found his missing brother.

Raphael stares at them, his eyes completely white. His lips are tinged with red, his bloody teeth bared, and he's hunched protectively over something. A deep growl shakes the room and sends a shiver up Leo's spine. Savage, then. Whether from being alone or something else, Leo doesn't know. Yet. Donnie kept a copy of the records before destroying them, he's sure. For now, he needs to focus on helping Raph.

Leo raises his hands in a placating gesture, but the growling doesn't stop. Leo feels the movement of Donnie and Mikey behind him, fanning out on either side. Giving plenty of space so that Raph doesn't feel trapped, so that-

“Oh my god,” Mikey whispers somewhere to Leo's right. “Oh my god, Leo, it's-”

Raph shifts, and Leo spots you in the same moment that Mikey says your name. Horror rushes through him at the sight of you, and all at once Leo realizes what's happened.

He let Bishop off too easy.

“Mikey, get him away from her,” Leo barks, mind racing. “I'll portal him home once they're separated, then I'll portal you after him. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself, and try to bring him back. Donnie, distract Raph first, then I need you to focus on her.”

With grunts of affirmation, they move together. Raph's wild eyes jump between them as they circle around him. His growl gets impossibly louder, making the very floor beneath their feet vibrate. Leo waits until they're in position. Takes a breath.

“Now!”

Donnie feints forward, pulling Raph's attention and making him lunge. Glowing chains shoot out and wrap around his limbs, his plastron, his neck, catching him and holding him back, just inches away from Donnie. The resulting roar makes Leo's bones rattle, and for a moment he's afraid the mystic chains might snap from the force of his older brother straining against them. They hold, though, as they always do, and Mikey grunts as he pulls Raph far enough away that Donnie can safely make it to your side.

When Raph sees Donnie run toward you, red sparks start to jump along his body. He's not quite there enough to direct his ninpo, Leo notes, but it's enough to make things harder for Mikey. More chains wrap around Raph, Mikey grunting from the effort of containing him, as Leo slices open a portal beneath Raph's feet. As soon as Raph is through, Leo slams it closed and opens another for Mikey, who hops through with a determined nod and grim expression.

Okay. Now to focus on you. Leo runs to your side, sliding to his knees so he can start helping Donnie, but the sight of you up close makes him hesitate. You're naked, bound with ropes, and a ball gag is sitting off to the side. Leo can see the deep bruises it left around your mouth and across your face.

How could they do this to you?

Leo tries to focus, to slip into medic mode, but then he sees the blood and semen pooling between your legs, and oh my god, that's what he saw Raph doing on the monitor-

Focus. Focus.

You're unconscious. Covered in bites and scratches and bruises. Nothing deep enough for you to bleed out, though there's one on your shoulder that will probably need stitches.

Oh God. The horror swells again when Donnie gingerly pulls a metal collar away from your neck. The sight and smell of your burnt flesh is enough to make Donnie turn away and retch. Leo can't look away. He can't.

When Donnie turns back, there's a moment where both brothers are frozen. Leo glances up, finally tearing his eyes away from you, to share a look with Donnie. Leo wonders if he looks as haunted as his brother.

Focus.

Leo unsheaths one of his swords and starts to cut through the ropes that bind your legs, then asks Donnie to lift your torso so that he can cut through those, as well. Lines of black bruises and tacky blood trails criss-cross over your skin, and Leo can't help but think about how you've been missing for six days. How long did they have you tied up like this? Raph had only just gone missing yesterday, but…

How long had he been-

“I'll have to get more bandages,” Leo says, voice shaky. “We don't have enough for all this in the medbay. I'll portal you two home then meet you there once I've-”

“Leo,” Donnie murmurs. His tone makes Leo's chest tighten, makes his blood turn to ice. “We can't take her to the lair. She needs a hospital. The scans that I- She- she's gonna need surgery.”

Bishops's words echo in Leo's mind. Necessary sacrifices.

“Yeah,” Leo chokes, blinking rapidly and wishing he had something to cover you with. You hate showing too much skin. You… He takes a shuddering breath and cuts a small portal into the air. Reaches through, pulls a blanket through before closing it. “Yeah. Okay. I'll- I'll take her to a hospital.”

Donnie helps him wrap you in the blanket - careful, Nardo, one of her hips is dislocated - before Leo sends him home through a portal, as well. Cradling you close against his plastron, Leo pushes down the whirlwind of emotions and presses his forehead to yours. After he takes you to the hospital and makes sure you're taken care of, he'll come back to this wretched place.

At least Mikey won't have to watch this time when he kills every single person in this fucking building.

---

Hours later, Leo finally portals back to the lair. Washes the last of the blood from his hands, his body, his swords. Gives Donnie an update - none left alive; you're still in surgery - before he receives one of his own.

In the garage, Donnie says, avoiding Leo's gaze. They're in the garage.

Leo sees them before they see him. Raph sits in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the remnants of the destroyed room. Mikey kneels beside him, speaking softly, gently washing Raph's still-bloodied hands with a damp towel, and Leo doesn't want to do this. God, he doesn't want to-

“Leo?”

Raph's voice is so small that Leo almost misses it. Mikey's quiet words and careful hands stop, and the silence rings louder than the static in Leo's tympanum. Both brothers watch Leo with solemn expressions as he slowly approaches, and Leo knows he should say something but…

Say something. Say something.

“Leo,” Raph whispers, his face pale and eyes glassy with fear. “What did I do?”

---

tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @luckycharms1701 @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @justalotoffanfiction

#turtlecleric scrolls #rise!raph #non con

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turquoizxe · 9 months

Text

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Hobart “Hobie” Brown x Spider!Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: I am back in my hometown! And I will do my best to release the remaining installations within the next week or so! So great to see you all again, and here is the third installment of ‘Just For You’. Please keep in mind that if you are apart of the ‘Mature’ audience (16+), this is considered the final part of ‘Just For You’, as the last two installments include adult themes. You’ll spend all your time with Hobie in this installment since I integrated so much plot into the series, I hope you enjoy :))

With Love,

— Turquoizxe.

Installation (3/5) : ‘Chuffed’

‘Just For You’ Masterlist for previous/future installations

Rating ― Mature (16+)

➝ After that night, you gave your situation a deep thought, but knowing Hobie best, he knew how to win you over. What better way to make up for lost time other than spending an entire day together?

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ― Fluff overload, college student and Spiderwoman duties!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ― Some serious topics (mentions of death, reader opens up about her time in HQ *’friend’s name remains anonymous so you can insert a friend of your own), angst, small use of foul language, suggestive comments, finals week (uni students iykyk), kissing (nothing too spicy)

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 — 3.8k

Chuffed; pleased or happy

Deciphering your feelings was such a hard thing to do when it came to romance.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’ve felt this way about anybody, or if you have at all. Hobie Brown has always been such a stoic individual, but that seemed to fade away the more time he spent with you — and he welcomed it with open arms.

You adored one another, there was no doubts about it. After confessing, he didn’t give you a reason to doubt that, but there was a bigger problem that lingered when he confessed to you. He wasn’t from your world, and you weren’t sure how it would work. And as much as you wanted him around, you weren’t sure if it would be in a way that either of you wanted.

And here he is, staying at your place for the night after you trespassed into the University’s lab. Just moments earlier, sharing a rather heated moment before you realized you had to keep composure about yourself before you made that decision. Whether you think it was possible to be with him, and as much as you desired it — you weren’t sure if reality would prevail.

You had changed into pajamas, an obnoxiously oversized shirt, with shorts underneath, sitting on the couch as you awaited for his return. You already had your television set to your series you watched together, snacks waiting to be consumed on the coffee table in front of you. Hobie went back to his Earth to grab some of his belongings for the overnight stay, casually using his watch to transport back into your living room.

Hobie called your name for the third time, waving his hand in front of you to catch your attention, not realizing that you were lost in your thoughts.

“Oi, didn’ lose you did I?” The tall punk chuckled, taking a seat next to you, and his clothes also changed into something more comfortable. He grabbed the bucket of popcorn once you had pressed the play button. Shyly, you took a seat closer to him, he softly smiled down at you, but you weren’t able to see if due to your eyes being glued to the screen in front of you both. Don’t get it twisted, you were very happy that he was here with you. Only, considering the circumstances and the fact that you confessed to him just moments ago, you almost forgot how to behave normally. The atmosphere had visibly changed, and these new feelings that he was now fully aware of made it even more awkward. Mostly, for you.

Hobie has wanted you for a while now, but he always looked to you for confirmation. He didn’t want to scare you away. He could tell you wanted to come closer, but you seemed too anxious.

You looked down to where his hand was traveling— sneaking closer to where your back rested, and you looked up at him, his eyes searching for your permission. You wanted this so bad, but there were so many conflicts you weren’t sure of. Hobie was more than determined to rid of those in any way possible, starting small. You gave a small nod, but he tilted his head, signalling for verbal confirmation.

“Go..ahead.”

He smirked, gently wrapping his arm around you, and took it upon your self to cuddle closer into his side, letting your fears go away. You had thought about this for the past month; how could you work this out when you’re literally from two different planets?

But if he can teleport into your apartment at any given time, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad to manage.

For the next hour, you had watched your series in such a comfortable silence, and you could (unfortunately) count the times on your fingers how often you and Hobie shared your time together with no interruptions. Though, you still felt that small part of your brain, eagerly waiting for his monitor to beep or vibrate annoyingly as if he didn’t mute the device in front of you.

The man you dare to call your boyfriend is in the Spiderverse, saving the world, and you slightly felt bad for wanting to be selfish for once and spend time with him. The world could be ending at this very moment, but you wouldn’t feel bad if you died spending time with your—

Boyfriend? Would he even call you his girlfriend? He’s never been big on labels, and to no surprise, you are the opposite. Putting labels puts your mind at ease, knowing that you have confirmation of what you see and what you feel.

“You don’ have t’be so scared, [Name].”

You hadn’t realized how fidgety you happen to get when you get too intimate with your thoughts. You had long forgotten the plot of the episode that was playing on your screen, softly biting your lip. You could feel his eyes on you, so you looked up. His orbs were glossed over with love, his hand caressing your hips to soothe you. He leaned over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote to pause the show. You watched his every move, setting the snacks aside. He moved, his front facing yours.

He could tell you had a lot on your mind, and if you were going to be together, he always wants to make sure that his girl is heard.

“Let’s chat, yeah?”

“About what,” you scoffed, beginning to look away again, until you feel his hand softly guide your face to look back at him. You sighed, knowing that there wasn’t any way to escape this.

“What if...we don’t work?”

“I’m willin’ to take that chance w’you,” he quips, his hand placing over yours, giving it a soft squeeze to loosen your doubts, but you didn’t mean it in the way that he thinks.

“No Hobie ― we’re from two different worlds, you don’t think this is disrupting a canon somehow,” your voice is barely above a whisper, softly chuckling at what you thought was a weak attempt at a joke, but Hobie could see you shaking.

“Oh, come out of it.” He pulls you toward him like you’re weightless, gasping at his sudden movement. He held you, your legs resting on either side of him. You don’t remember being this close to him outside of his lips attached to you.

“If searchin’ outside of my world mean’ I ge’to meet a peng ting like you, then that’s my canon,” he exclaims, arms wrapped so tightly around you, as if he was scared to let you go. You felt his lips on you once more, softly whimpering as he suckled on your collarbone, traveling to your cheeks, the metal on his lips cooling your skin as Hobie plants a soft kiss on your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture.

“You’re my girl, yeah?”

Oh, how you’ve longed to hear those words, nearly melting into his embrace once they spilled from his lips. You felt a smile spread across your face, and a smirk from him followed, his hands caressing your hips, awaiting for your the answer that he was confident in.

“As long as you’re my guy.”

Before you knew it, the asscrack of dawn made its appearance. The sun shined shamelessly from your window, nearly blinding you the moment you opened your eyes, quickly closing them back shut, turning in the opposite direction, feeling a warmth wash over you.

You didn’t think he’d still be here, Hobie’s arm hung over your waist, his fingertips softly grazing the skin under your shirt. He felt your movements, taking the opportunity to kiss tenderly along your neck. Your hand grabbed to where his were placed in your shirt, tempted to stay in bed when you knew you both had things to do.

“Mornin’,” he cooed, pulling you closer, continuing to smother you in kisses. You groaned in response, prying his hands off you, and sitting up on the bed.

“We gotta get up Hobs.” His back was turned to you when you looked back, and scoffed at you being responsible. Saturday mornings were your favorite, no classes, little to no responsibilities. If finals weren’t 48 hours away, you would’ve happily stayed in bed with your boyfriend. You superhero duties and other distractions left your notes unattended on your work desk.

You had tidied up your room a bit, not necessarily dirty, but not clean either― disheveled to say the least. Hobie used his arm as leverage, admiring you and he continued to lay in bed, watching you pick up the remaining clothing and tossing them into a hamper near your bedroom door. You glanced at him from time to time while you made your room look presentable, taking note that he was enamored with your ass. He was so glad you didn’t wear many clothes to bed.

You exit your bedroom to start freshening up for the day, your lover groaning and questioning why you couldn’t stay in bed for another hour at his expense. You were tempted beyond words to stay in for a while longer, but you needed to study. And you needed to keep those scholarships.

“I need to do well on my exams, Hobie. Our little adventure last night didn’t necessarily include me actually having time to study,” you huff out. The hours were beginning to weigh in on you again, having so much, yet so little time until you had to take a painfully long exam that determined the rest of your academic career. You felt so sure, but now that the walls are closing in, you feel the doubt creep its way in. Hobie sees the worry on your face when you come back into your room, and glances over at your poorly scribbled notes from last night where you were also looking.

He arose from the comfort of your bed, walking towards you as he placed his hands around your hips.

“I know how importan’ this is f’you, if you wan’, I can stay and help you study?”

Honestly, he could care less about you studying, he just wanted to spend more time with you. You could drop out right now and the man wouldn’t even bat an eye. But he knew where your heart lies, and your education was always first, he knew that almost better than anyone else [your parents]. His heart nearly melted at the twinkle in your eyes when he brought up the idea. That is until you brought up the Spot situation.

“I thought you’d be off at HQ by now?”

“I couldn’ give a rats ass what they do righ’ now, bu’ I promise they have everythin’ covered, love.”

Hobie’s overwhelming stature hovered over you as he placed his arms around you, and lifting you from the ground, your face now leveled with his.

“Let’s spend the day togetha’. Jus’ you and me.”

Never in a million years did you think that you would be granted to spend an entire day with your favorite person. Even as extreme as his beliefs when it comes to the education system, he was willing to spend an entire day to help you study for your exams. If that wasn’t true love, then you weren’t sure of anything else.

Hobie cooked you breakfast that morning, your favorite. Showering you with kisses when you began to get ready for the day, and packing your supplies. You knew for a fact that studying at home was not an option. You have tried, but there are way too many distractions in the comfort of your own home. Your television, your bed, your switch, your bed, literally anything else, your bed. You always made sure to study in your campus library, but not without grabbing your morning drink at the coffee shop before heading over. Being organized was a big part of your life, and it would fall apart if your agenda was not in your backpack at all times.

Hobie, being himself, made it his mission to make sure that you didn’t have to rely on transportation, masked up and ready to go, eager to carry you like a backpack, but you insisted on walking like you usually do (*you did not want to make national news that a college student was dating a Spiderman from another universe). He didn’t mind the decision much, he liked hearing how organized you were, and what you had planned for today.

You thanked the gods above that you somehow found a study room in your library, rarely being able to snag one, no matter what time of the day it was. You had set out your belongings so precisely, Hobie could tell within a heartbeat that you were serious about this. He could almost feel your determination when a stack of cards were in front of his face.

“After I review these lectures, I need you to recite every definition to me, and I have to state the term correctly,” you explain, powering your laptop, a concerning amount of tabs open the moment you log in. Just for a moment, he regretted offering to help you study.

“All 150 of them.”

Scratch that, he’d be overjoyed if you dropped out right now.

You spent what felt like an eternity reviewing presentation and lectures. And Hobie made it his mission to make sure you took breaks every hour, with hints of teasing here and there. He was astounded that your brain wasn’t fried from all the information you were forced to retain for a piece of paper that likely only had 30 questions on it. Oh, his innocent mind, you wanted nothing more than to go back to the comforts of your bed, with your boyfriend peppering you with kisses. Once it was time for you to review the terms, you were sure that Hobie was more stressed than you as he read the definitions out loud to you. You were anxious as he read them out to you, but you are determined to pass your finals. And Hobie believed you could.

Moments eerily passed by as he read out sentences to you, you responding with your terms that were placed out on a separate sheet. Some you answered confidently, and others, not so much. Otherwise, your ‘correct’ pile was significantly higher than the ‘incorrect’. You just had to be confident in what you knew, and there was no shame in that.

You nervously counted the ones you got correct, and calculating the accuracy while doing so.

“What do you need to pass, dove?”

“75.”

You placed the final cards aside, grinning at your final score, jumping up and down with such a joy you haven’t felt in a long time.

“90!” You exclaimed, jumping in Hobie’s arms, earning a chuckle from him, a kiss on the cheek, and more words of affirtmation, he knew that you could do it. But he wanted you to believe that more than anything.

After that review, you spent a little more time reviewing your incorrect answers before calling it a day for studying. You had agreed to let Hobie sling you back home to avoid the afternoon traffic, which gave you the idea to do some patrolling while he’s still here. You could probably knock out more crime in half the time with him here. You weren’t as on edge about this if you were both in your Spidersuits, and no one would have any ideas of your identity.

So, you fought off bad guys with your boyfriend, and you couldn’t remember the last time patrol was a fun experience for you. Tripping shoplifters with webbed traps, flying across town, civilians in awe of you and the other fellow that followed closely behind. You were more than sure that news outlets would ask about your relationship, the possibility of another Spiderman, and you also knew that Miguel was likely watching, pissed that Hobie was in another world making himself known, and boy did the proud punk love the thought of it.

You swung back to the top of your apartment after patrol, looking at the evening sky above you as the day began to slowly come to a close. Your feet dangled from the edge of the building, that deep feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger as Hobie held you close, deepening the kiss. Yes, you did in fact finish patrolling a little early so you two could makeout. The law enforcement were rather relieved that you both disappeared, as Hobie’s appearance awed hundreds of paparazzi’s and fans to follow you around on your patrol adventures, making traffic even more aggravating.

Hobie tugged on your lip, pratically begging for your permission, tongue making an effort to latch onto yours. It’s torture the way you tease him, but he also thought that maybe there was another catch here. Your passionate moment came to a halt after Hobie’s watch let out a chime, a feeling of dread flashing across your face, your boyfriend finding amusement in your pain.

“I fuckin’ love it when you get mad.”

You knew you couldn’t get too comfortable with his company. He sat up and chuckled, checking on whatever notification was sent. You propped up on your elbows, watching closely at his movements, but he never got up.

“No worries. We’ve still got time to kill.”

Your eyes were still glued to his watch, Hobie’s eyes following yours before opening his mouth.

“You never told me about your time in HQ.”

“I don’t think there’s any need to,” you quip, arising dramatically, and dropping from the building to web back into your bedroom, the tall Brit following right behind you, sensing the dramatic change in the mood. This wasn’t an easy topic for you, after the intervention with Miles, he had an idea that you time in the Spiderverse wasn’t the best, but he didn’t want you to hide from him.

You stood behind your kitchen counter, staring at him intensely, awaiting for a smart ass remark from him that never came.

“After what I told Miles, I thought you wouldn’t bring it up.”

“No one likes talking about their canon, but I thought that we could get past thi―“

“No, Hobie,” you were quick to cut off, becoming aggravated, but still speaking softly, trying to remain neutral. You didn’t like speaking about your canon.

You look away, determined to not let him see your small smile before beginning to speak again. If he knows everything else, why keep this a secret.

“I was in the Spiderverse HQ for a year.”

Hobie lets out a whistle, quickly understanding why this situation possibly weighed heavier on you. The man couldn’t give less of a fuck about HQ, only joining to look out for Gwen, and kept to himself if it wasn’t her, Pav, or other bandmates he was hanging with.

“I had a friend from my childhood...and I cared about them alot,” you started, feeling the tears already start to spill from your face as you reminiscence on the memories you shared together in the Spiderverse.

“When I joined the Spiderverse, I had been sent on a mission, where I found them in another world, where they were a Spiderperson and I was not. We got close really fast.”

“On of our missions, their canon event happened, and lost both of their parents in an accident.”

“One night, we snuck into Miguel’s lab and went to figure out how to travel to another dimension where their parents were alive.” You felt shivers travel down your spine, the more you began to explain to him, Hobie already aiding to you as you hid in his arms, softly sobbing, but willing to continue.

“The moment they were caught playing the role of their other self, they wanted to find a way to get out, but it was too late.” At this point, you were sobbing uncontrollably, Hobie finding your last few words unintelligible as you tried to ecth them out through your dry throat.

“I couldn’t get them out of the Universe in time, and in return, their original Universe also fell apart, and they went missing in mine. Miguel found out, and kicked me out of the league.”

Hobie quite literally had no response that was appropriate for the situation that occured. So he did what he did best, he held you close, whispering soft coos and telling you not to worry. It shocked you when Miguel disclosed to Miles that he also tried your method at one point, which is why he was so taken aback by your actions.

“You have such a big heart, [Name], you couldn’ have known the outcome.”

“But I did!” you exclaim, pulling away from him. You expressed how the entire situation gave you a queasy feeling, but because it was your friend, and you wanted them to have their family back. You saw how much it tore them apart, and you ignored your gut. Not a day goes by where you don’t blame yourself that you lost your bestfriend.

You were somewhat indifferent that you told Hobie your big secret, the day was so perfect; why did he have to ruin it by asking that fucking question.

“I know tha’ was rough to tell me, but I’m here for you, and anythin’ you may need.”

Hobie walked back up to your figure, begrudgingly staring down at your feet once more, feeling his fingers intertwine with yours, and making you look up at him like he always does.

For what felt like an eternity, the burdens and chains that held onto you were released. If there’s one thing Hobie knew how to do, it was to wash away your doubts. You were almost sure that he was in every right to call you a maniac for what happened to your best friend. You felt his arms wrap around you tenderly once more, embracing his stature with open arms.

Your moment, as always, was cut with a beep from his watch, but the emergency chime was going off. You knew for sure that Hobie had to leave you, you whined, squeezing him for more comfort. Hobie sighed softly, apologizing, but he had to go. For what it’s worth, you were glad you got to spend an entire day with him.

He opened a portal, looking back before stepping forward.

“Since I spen’ an entire day in your world, why not come in mine?”

You almost felt your heart explode into pieces. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bittersweet end to your day together.

“We’re performin’ after your finals week, I’ll come pick you up― I already have a seaprate section f’you.” Hobie loved the smile that plastered on your lips the more he kept talking. He’d would absolutely ignore the call if it wasn’t an emergency.

“For me, huh?”

“Jus’ for you.”

As always, please leave comments below on the series and if you’re enjoying it so far, god I’ve missed writing so much, all love to Sony and Hobie for breaking me out of my hiatus.

For the mature audience, I really hope you enjoyed my series, and don’t hesitate to leave any comments, and even requests if you have any!

For my adult audience; let the horniness begin

TAGLIST!

#atsv #hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown atsv #hobie brown x reader #hobie my beloved #spider punk #spiderpunk #spider punk x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x you #spiderpunk fluff #hobie brown fluff #hobie x y/n #series #turquoizxe

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vivalas-vega · 1 year

Text

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part two

hiiiii -- I’m back with these two new pals. I’m really loving their dynamic :) please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this!

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ serein x reader / part two

read part one

word count: 2.3k

warnings: language, jake being a shameless flirt, thats about it

taglist: @potato-girl99981 @olliepig

“I wouldn’t go for that shot if I were you,” you taunted, sipping your beer as you watched Hangman line up his shot at the pool table. Hunched over with his arms flexed he flitted his eyes up to yours, taking the shot anyways without breaking contact. Your eyes trailed away, watching the trajectory of the ball as it slid into the pocket.

“If you want to distract me, Gopher, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

“Gopher?”

“You know, gopher snakes… look dangerous but are all talk no bite,” he smirked, watching as you surveyed the table, looking for your best option. You rolled your eyes and focused on the game, clearing all of your remaining shots and smirking at him as you lined yourself up. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him lean against the table, muscles tensing as he braced himself against the wood, watching you with a heavy gaze and you pretended not to notice as you sank the eight ball.

“What a pity…” you tutted, “I’ll take a spicy margarita, thank you.” You waved him off to the bar with his tail between his legs after his second loss of the night.

“You two seem awfully chummy tonight,” Rooster said, approaching you with an unreadable expression.

“Is that so?” you hummed.

“Expected some raised voices at some point, maybe even some peanuts thrown in his direction.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you shrugged.

“I take it your conversation with him the other night went well?” he prodded.

“And what would you know about that, Roo?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. You knew it was only partly Hangman’s idea to show up at your house just a few nights prior.

“Hmm? Oh nothing,” he sipped his beer.

“If you must know, yes it did go well. He was actually quite genuine, we’ve decided to try and be real friends.”

“Does this mean no more screaming matches in the hangar?”

“I can’t make such lofty promises,” you replied, taking your drink from the pilot in question with a smile.

“Had Penny make it extra spicy, just how you like it.” You took a sip and smiled again, wondering when he had picked up how you liked your drinks made.

“Wanna go again or have you had enough shame for the evening?” you asked with a slight smirk.

“You’ve tired me out, darlin’,” he slid into the booth of a nearby table and you followed, Rooster deciding to occupy himself over at the dartboard.

“Two rounds is all you’ve got in you? No wonder I see so many angry glances thrown your way in here,” you teased and he kicked your foot underneath the table.

“Watch it, Cobra.” His tone was serious but his eyes were all mischief and you chuckled as you took another drink.

“No, that’s good to know, affirms my theory that your God complex is a mere overcompensation.” You held his eyes and smirked as they grew darker.

“It’s almost as if you’re challenging me to prove you wrong.”

“I’d do no such thing, Bagman, it’s just so easy to rile you up.” Silence fell over you as you both wracked your brains for what to say next… neither one wanted to take the plunge into starting a real conversation, one not rooted in playful jabs or work related topics.

“So… how have you been?” he finally asked and you snorted.

“I’ve been well, Hangman, how are you?”

“Oh, you know…”

“I don’t.”

“I’ve also been well.” You fought back a laugh, if this was anyone else you might have felt awkward, might have gone for any excuse to scramble away but instead you just found it amusing.

“This is delightful conversation, I feel really stimulated right now.”

“Well, what would you like to talk about?” he shot back.

“Pick a topic,” you challenged.

“What’s your favorite color?” You let out a full laugh now, taking a large swig and finishing off your drink.

“Alright, this is painful and I need a change of scenery.” You stood, and made your way towards the door, smiling at the hurt expression on his face. “Well, are you coming?” He moved quickly, following you out the door as you began walking onto the beach and towards the water. “This is my favorite time of day out here,” you mused, taking in the way the sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, darkening by the minute.

“Mine too,” he watched as you plopped down into the sand, your eyes gazing outwards with a hint of admiration. He carefully sat beside you, trying not to position himself too close.

“I grew up in a one-horse town, sometimes it’s still so crazy to me that this is the view from my local bar now.”

“Where at?” he asked.

“A little blip on the map about two hours from Austin.”

“You’re a Texas girl? How did I not know this about you?” He looked towards you now.

“Never had the chance,” you shrugged, “you quite enjoy dominating the conversation about our shared home state.” He looked back towards the ocean.

“Yeah, I do that, don’t I?”

“It’s kind of nice though… when you get really into it that little accent slips back in and it reminds me of home.”

“Did you stay home for college?”

You shook your head, “straight to the Naval Academy, I always knew I wanted to be a pilot and didn’t want to waste four years to get started. What about you, did you always know?”

“I think so, but I meandered a little bit… family business was a big deal and studied at UTD for a few years before throwing it all to the wind and joining the academy.”

“How’d your folks take it?” you asked, leaning back on your elbows.

“Disappointed at first, but in the end they weren’t surprised. They always knew it was a matter of time before I flew the coop.”

You nodded, “sometimes my mom still tries to convince me I can do literally anything else, like moving back home and settling down. I think I’ve shaved a few years off her life with how much she worries.”

“Same,” he chuckled, “before each deployment mine begs me to just come home.”

“I’ve stopped telling mine when I deploy, she sends herself into a tizzy each time. We now communicate just as often as I would when I’m gone and my dad says it’s better for her that way.”

“Do you ever miss them?”

“Sometimes… It's rough being the outlier of the family. My sister married her high school sweetheart and is a dutiful stay-at-home mom to their three kids. My brother owns the local hardware store and has a brood of his own. The small town life works for them, makes them happy but it makes my skin crawl to think about, I love them but it’s easier being so far away. They just don’t quite get what I do or why I would ever want this life.” You’d both moved to lay down now, elbows brushing as you watched the stars begin to appear in the inky sky.

“I get it, my sisters call me crazy every time we talk. They can’t fathom why I’d ever want to risk my life to fly around in scary looking death traps every day… meanwhile I can’t fathom a life doing anything else.”

“It really does choose you, doesn’t it? The rest of the world thinks we’re insane, while we find it insane to be doing anything else. I’ll never forget my first award banquet, my mom cried for hours afterwards,” you chuckled, thinking back to the memory.

“Why is that?”

“We were standing with an admiral who’d had maybe one too many whiskeys and he let some details of the mission slip, they were meant to be high praise but it terrified her.”

He laughed, “well, to be fair, her daughter is one of the scariest people in the Navy.”

“She doesn’t need to know that,” you hummed.

“If you weren’t a pilot, what would you be?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to look at you as your fingers absentmindedly drew patterns in the sand by your side.

“When I was in high school, just before I applied for the Navy I briefly considered enlisting in the Army and trying to be a combat medic,” you replied.

“So, something just as dangerous and stress-inducing?” he joked.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “I guess I thrive best in high tension environments.”

“Well, it suits you. If I had to pick someone to be in a dogfight with it’d be you, no contest.”

“Why is that?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“You’re fast, faster than Maverick… not just in the way you fly but in the way you think. I know you earned your callsign based on the actual snake, but I like to believe it’s actually because you follow Cobra Kai rules in the sky.”

“I know it’s my moniker but I’m really offended you associate my name with that dojo.”

“With your general disposition you would one hundred percent be a part of Cobra Kai.”

“I’m only tough on people who deserve it, unlike Johnny Lawrence.”

“So I deserve your bullying?” he asked, feigning hurt.

“You’re lucky all I do is bully you, strutting around with that ego of yours it’s like you’re just begging for me to knock you down a peg.” you teased, and he shoved your shoulder playfully.

“I could say the same about you, Cobra Kai.”

“This is my least favorite nickname for my nickname,” you sighed, but unable to fight off a smile.

“It’s better than the ones you give me,” he retorted.

“Okay, if you read into it, Ken Doll is actually a compliment.”

“Except you only use it to essentially call me an airhead,” he protested and you laughed.

“Well…” He shoved you again and you let out a loud laugh.

“Hurtful and untrue.”

“It’s a little true,” you giggled, fighting back. “It’s not your fault the universe went a little heavy on the looks and a little light on the brains when making you.”

“So what you’re saying right now is you think I’m attractive?”

“Instant regret. The second it left my mouth I knew it was a mistake,” you said, pulling away from him and rolling onto your back.

“You can admit it, I see those little looks over your shades when we play dogfight football,” you looked over to see him wiggling his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes.

“No more than you ogle at me.”

“Difference is I have no problem admitting I find you utterly irresistible, if you can look past your generally sour mood,” his eyes trailed your form and you were suddenly acutely aware of the way your sundress was fluttering in the breeze, maybe exposing a little more of your thighs than you’d originally intended, your hand coming down to smooth over the fabric.

“Are you flirting with me right now?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Am I flirting with you?”

“That is what I asked, is it not?” Somewhere between the talks of your families and the playful banter you two had moved closer, your faces not as far apart as they once were and you tried to keep your breathing even as his eyes flicked between yours and your lips.

“I just found the question a little amusing.”

“Why is that, Seresin?” you asked, voice coming out in a whisper.

“Of course I am, I think I’d be an idiot not to.”

“And you don’t think this is a little bold of you considering the fact that we’re barely even friends?”

“I think it was a little bold of you to bring me down onto the beach to watch the sunset and stargaze while talking about family and Karate Kid… seems a little romantic to me.”

“Well, I apologize that I gave you the wrong impression.” you said, holding eye contact and he wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

“That’s alright, darlin’, I’m patient.” He sat up suddenly, and you followed him without a second thought. He extended his hand to you and pulled you off the sand, and you found it a little hard to swallow with how close you two were, his hand still in yours, chests brushing.

“You’ll be waiting quite a long time then, cowboy, because it’s never going to happen.” You walked side by side, making your way up to the beach and to the parking lot where he accompanied you to your car, opening the door but keeping an arm in front of it to prevent you from getting in.

“I think you’ll find as we continue to build this friendship that I’m quite irresistible myself,” he said with a smirk.

“There’s the Hangman I know and loathe,” you said, pushing past him and moving to get into your car.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?” he asked, voice softening as he watched you sink into the seat. When you nodded he closed the car door, giving you a little wave before you drove off and you tried to shake off the warm feeling in your chest. As you navigated the familiar roads, slipping into autopilot, you convinced yourself there wasn’t any weight to the words he’d said, it was just Hangman being Hangman, finding it impossible to not flirt with anyone that had a pulse. This thought comforted you all the way until you fell into bed, not sending him anything more than an emoji of a house and a thumbs up, allowing sleep to tug at the corners of your mind and deciding you’d pay his flirtations no mind. Just as you almost drifted off into a cozy slumber, you jolted awake as the image of Hangman beneath the moonlight, gazing into your eyes clouded your mind.

“Fucking Seresin,” you groaned.

previous part / next part

#Jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman #hangman x reader #Hangman x Y/N #hangman x you #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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dervampireprince · 3 months

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youtube

ASMR | Elisabeth das Musical - Der Tod x Listener SFW Death Becomes Entranced And Seduces A Lonely Prince

[M4M/GF4M] [Prince! Listener] [Seduction] [Manipulation] [Kissing - no character death, lore here is Death's kisses can kill if it's 'your time' but if it's not they don't but they're still cold and cause temporary frostbite-like symptoms] [TW implies the listener is depressed and has been experiencing suicidal ideation, Death at points advises the listener to kiss him which would kill them, please skip this audio if you think these issues could affect or trigger you and if you are affected by these issues please seek help and contact hotlines in your country. This audio is fictional, Death's attempts to be a voice of suicidal ideation should not be taken seriously nor applied to real life.]

I've been wanting to make this audio for so long. While I've left it ambiguous enough to be enjoyed as an original audio, this character is actually from my favourite musical 'Elisabeth das Musical'. It's a German-language dark queer historical romance where Death (Der Tod) is drawn to those who think about him, in particular it follows the life of Elisabeth, Empress of Austria, and her son Rudolf. The musical does deal with serious mental health topics and some historical events from that time including the rise of fascism so please know that going in, but if you think you can handle such topics then I couldn't recommend the musical enough.

The original 1992 Vienna production is on Youtube with English subtitles, that is my favourite production and means a lot to me as Uwe Kroger as Death is just... perfection to me, very much gender envy and has been a big influence on me and helped me with accepting myself and my gender expression, and his characterisation of Death as this genderfluid, pansexual otherworldly being is just beautiful. And if you enjoy then I'd also recommend the 2005 Vienna production which is also on Youtube with English subtitles mostly for the few extra added song and Serkan Kaya's performance as Lucheni.

For those of you in my Patreon Discord server, I streamed this musical last Sunday in there for you guys and it finally felt like the perfect time to bring this audio to life. And if Kronprinz is still around, I know you were requesting a Der Tod audio for a long time and I hope you're happy with this one. The listener in this audio series takes the place of Rudolf, but you don't need to know anything about the musical to understand these audios. I chose to present them more like my original royalty series audios as Elisabeth das Musical is not very well known outside of mainland Europe and Japan, so I hoped by framing it this way with a photograph of myself cosplaying Death from a couple years ago would entice more people who aren't familiar with the musical.

I love this musical so much, European musicals in general are my biggest interest and if you go searching for them it wont be long until you find my sfw account @emptymasks posting too much about them. If you're interested in learning more I have some masterlists and info posts pinned on my emptymasks Tumblr, but also as part of my subathon rewards I am doing a stream on my Twitch explaining about infodumping about European musicals and I've been working on some video essays for years that I hope to get finished this year that will be up on my emptymasks Youtube channel. I also run @europeanmusicals . If any mutuals or followers from my main or side blogs finds this... well hello there, I find myself nervous to drop this in the euro musical tags, as if people are going to find this format of fanwork weird but well... I had fun, I hope you guys are nice about this (nice doesn't mean you have to like it, but please don't be mean about it if you just don't enjoy asmr or audio content).

Something something if I had a nickel for every time Prince voiced a personification of Death from different fandoms I'd have three nickels.

Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]

#elisabeth das musical #todolf #der tod #european musicals #der tod x rudolf #death x rudolf #der tod x reader #der tod x listener #the vampire whispers #royalty kink #Youtube

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btskitten7 · 9 months

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Chapter v: A deadly favor (part 3)

Ship: Min Yoongi x fem reader

AU/Genre: Mafia!AU

Rating: M

wc: 7.2k (all parts together)

Chapter warnings: spicy scene (oral f. Receiving. Fingering. Implied love making) Yoongi getting drunk (and very sad) stalking mentioned. Selling drugs.

Chapter summary: this is where Yoongi’s mask starts to slip and he’s having difficulty keeping it straight. He knows his lies are going to catch up to him and it’s getting to him. Namjoon betrays Yoongi without knowing the extent of his betrayal. Yoongi’s dad is an ass here :/ Hoseok is closing in on you. This is where things are going downhill.

taggs: @shadowjellyfishfest @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelyamc

Yoongi knew this was a mistake, he felt it in his soul. There's no doubt he trusted Namjoon but the little voice in his head became louder and louder. For the first time, he was questioning Namjoon’s intentions. He didn't have much time to think about it any further, but he wasn't done with Namjoon yet.

Later at the dinner, Yoongi didn't say much as he always does. Whenever he would go with his dad to meetings in the past, he'd always sit back and listen. Yoongi was always watching his surroundings, he had no choice. Growing up a mob boss's kid had its perks but it also had many disadvantages. The worst one was the many attempts on his life.

It's why he's not sure if wants to have children. Even after he's gone from this life, he'll always be known as a mob boss kid and now mob boss.

People always saw his father being unfaithful to his mother so they would target his life thinking it'll get his father to do anything. It did, but it also forced Yoongi to live his life in fear most of the time. It pushed him right into the life he wanted no part in.

Yoongi looked back and forth at the two men talking, listening to every word. He didn't even touch his food or his drink. It was like he wasn't there. A small part of him wasn't. He had major concerns but he knew he couldn't voice them, at least not in front of his father's friend.

"Can we get the real reason why we're here?" Yoongi interrupted, over the small talk. He could care less about the many women they slept with or how much they spent of their fucking shoes.

Min chuckled.

"Ah, excited to get started." Min's friend said happily. Yoongi couldn't believe the likes of him was in the drug trade. He was always so happy and cheery. It always came as forced and fake to him. Honestly seeing his face pissed him off. He despised the man so much, he didn't even want to learn his name. Something about him made his skin crawl. When he becomes boss, he's going to make sure they never deal with him again.

"Not really. I'm eager to get back home and to sleep." Yoongi said with a deadpan voice.

The men around him laughed at his response, except for Namjoon.

"I agree with Yoongi. If we're just here to talk about women and other topics then we could have done this at home." Namjoon agreed. Yoongi's eyes traveled to Namjoon then back at the man.

Then men sat there in silence which was a first for the whole evening.

"Well you heard my underboss. Let's get this over with. We both have important shit to get to"

Min chucked again. He loved seeing his son become the king he always wanted him to be.

"Well Sebastian, you heard my son. Let's get down to business. What will it take to get involved with your...investment" Min asked with a smirk.

" It's different. You have to prove yourself loyal and reliable. You can't be a risk." Sebastian turned serious which tickled Yoongi.

"Can't be a risk..." Yoongi mumbled to himself followed by another chuckle.

Namjoon sighed softly. Min nodded.

"Haven't we've always shown that we're loyal to you? We've given you protection. We've stood in your place to eliminate any problems for you. What else do we have to prove?"

"You've done that. You've shown your loyalty. But your son has not," he started." Who's to say that he won't be a liability to me and my investments? I know you. I don't know him"

Yoongi laughed completely astonished.

"How do I know you won't be a liability to me? How can I trust you? I'm only going off of what my father has told me and what I've seen. I don't know you." Yoongi explained.

His words dismayed Sebastian. Yoongi already didn't want to participate and if he is going to be an asshole, he will walk out right now. They didn’t need him. Like he needs them

Min looked at Sebastian with a condescending smirk.

"Having my son by your side is a good thing. We have connections that you don't have even with all your little investments."

"One day you can have it all and the next," Yoongi said looking dark and serious, "you don't have anything at all. I can walk away from this 'meeting' and still make millions. You can't be sure that you'll be able to walk away from this table let alone back to your wife and kids"

Sebastian's widened eyes displayed fear. He looked over to Min who also shared the same dark glare. As his eyes continued across the table he realized he was in a room full of Korea's most dangerous men. They could kill him right now and get off free. No one would even bat an eye.

Yoongi didn't like to bring up people's personal life because he wouldn't like it if someone did it to him in a situation like this. The only difference between him and Sebastian, you could get rid of anyone that brought you up. Sebastian cannot.

Sebastian cleared his throat and let out a nervous chuckle. "I was just testing you son. You seem pretty trustworthy to me I’ll have everything set up by the time you leave here"

“Great” min smiled.

"So, Yoongi. What have you gotten yourself into nowadays?" He asked, quickly changing the subject.

Yoongi lifted his eyes to the man. "What is there to get into? Nothing excites me anymore, not in this life”

"Awww, stop it. There has to be something you are into. Or at least catches your eye?" He chuckled.

"Nothing," Yoongi said plainly. No one questioned Yoongi's attitude, he always spoke like this during these things.

"So, yn doesn't excite you?" Min said looking over at Yoongi. Yoongi's eyes shot straight at his father. Namjoon felt the wind leave his chest. Namjoon's father sat there with a smirk on his face.

'Why the fuck would he bring up yn?' Yoongi asked himself.

This wasn't a regular friend's dinner. This is a dinner with who could turn on their family at any moment they're pressed to. Bringing up Yn, would only cause her protection to be jeopardized. Yoongi was pissed and he couldn't hide his anger.

"Leave her out of this," Yoongi said.

"Who's yn?" his Sebastian seemingly confused but excited. Yoongi's father chuckled at his son's reaction.

"It's a woman my son has fallen in love with. She's quite the catch if you ask me" His father said ignoring Yoongi completely.

"Seems pretty exciting to me" Namjoon's father added. Namjoon looked at his father with the most disgust. If he would have known they would act like this he would have told them to do it on their own, regardless if they tell him or not.

Yoongi's blood began to boil but he had to fix this. He had to be convincing.

"I'm not in love with her. There you're wrong." Yoongi said coldly.

Namjoon, Min, and Namjoon's father sat there shocked.

"Oh so she's just something to do to pass the time or until you are bored with her?" Sebastian asked.

"Precisely. Anything could happen to her and it wouldn't phase me either way." Yoongi started as he stood up not giving them a chance to ask another question. "I'm going to retire now. I have things to look over in the aspect of my business. So anything else you can take up with my underboss since he's been so helpful" Yoongi said looking at Namjoon with almost hatred in his eyes before leaving the restaurant.

Yoongi didn't even call his driver. He just kept walking. He knows he was just lying but it still hurt him to even say something like that about you. You were his everything. He would die for you.

He's utterly in love with you.

But he had to throw them off. He had to protect you.

Yoongi's eyes began to sting with tears. He slowly starts to realize that there's going to come a time when everything is going to fall apart. He knew his time with you was limited.

A couple of hours later, Yoongi found himself in a bar, drinking the night away. He was long past drunk. He was shitfaced and should probably call his driver or Namjoon. Yoongi threw himself from the bar and stumbled out.

Pulling his phone out, he tried his hardest to focus his eyes on the screen to dial your number. He probably shouldn't do this but he needed to hear you tell him you loved him.

"Mm..hello? Are you okay Yoongi?" you asked sleepily which made Yoongi's heart swell and his eyes tear.

"I-I'm not okay. I n-need you" Yoongi said, hiccuping in between his words.

You sat up in your bed with a concerned frown.

"Baby, what's the matter? How can I get to you?" you asked rubbing your arm nervously.

"I-I-I-I need you to tell me you love me. That you you you are in l-love with me" Yoongi stuttered, slurring his words. You sighed realizing Yoongi was drunk. You were still concerned but you knew he was there with his father and Namjoon.

"Baby, you know I love you. I am completely in love with you. You know that there is no one I rather be with" You reassured him. All you can hear was him crying and thanking you.

"Baby did something happen?" you asked but Yoongi didn't respond. All you heard was a bunch of shuffling and two voices.

"Yoongi?" you asked worried.

Moments later you heard a car door open and close.

"Yn? Yn? It's Namjoon. I got him. I'm going to put him to bed. We partied too hard I think" Namjoon said nervously as he chuckled.

For some reason, you weren't convinced but you had to let it go since you probably couldn't get through to Yoongi.

"Okay...please have him call me in the morning..."

Namjoon agreed and hung up the phone finally getting into the car after he settled with Yoongi.

"Go. Now" Namjoon told the driver before he turned to a crying Yoongi. His once-perfect hair was now a mess as he kept running his fingers through it anxiously.

"You made me do that shit! You made me lie! I FUCKING LOVE HER. I'm fucking lost without her. I'm in love with her why'd you do that to me?!" Yoongi yelled letting out all his anger.

Namjoon didn't respond, he just allowed Yoongi to rave back to the hotel.

The next morning, Yoongi felt horrible. His head was pounding and each time he moved, he felt he was going to puke. He groaned as he turned over.

He didn't even know why he drank so much. It never made him forget anything nor did he feel great afterwards. Namjoon came in with some aspirin and water. Yoongi looked over at him then went back to hiding his face in the pillow.

"What? I can't fucking sleep either?" Yoongi snapped. Namjoon sighed and sat the stuff on the nightstand next to him before sitting on the bed.

"Yoongi..."

"What do you want Namjoon?"

"I just need to know my hyung is okay."

Yoongi scoffed. If he wasn't feeling so sick he would argue back with him. But he wasn't up to it.

"I'm fine. I'm ready to go home." Yoongi grumbled.

"I already arranged for the jet to take us back as soon as you are ready. But I think you should call yn. She's been blowing up your phone all morning."

Yoongi frowned and threw the pillow to the side before grabbing his phone. Seeing all the calls and texts, he knew he had worried you.

"Yoongi! Are you okay? Namjoon said you guys went out for drinks, did you drink too much?" You asked relieved he finally called back. Yoongi sighed 'Another lie. Great' he thought to himself.

"I'm okay Blossom. I just went a little too crazy last night. I really had a lot of fun last night. I should be home in a few hours" Yoongi said rubbing his head.

"Baby...I don't think you are being truthful.." You say. Yoongi's heart dropped as his head darted up.

"What do you mean baby?"

"Last night you were crying. You kept begging me to tell you I loved you and I was in love with you. Something you should already know. Then after Namjoon got you, you kept calling leaving messages, and texting me. If you had fun, why were you crying?" You asked concerned.

Yoongi cursed himself, instantly regretting calling you.

"Baby, I promise I had fun. It's just that once I got wasted I just missed you a lot. I just needed to hear your voice. That's all Blossom, promise"

You sighed "Okay Yoongi...I'll see you soon. I'm going to go back to sleep for a bit"

"Okay, baby. I love you" He tells you, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"I love you too, Yoongi. I really do. So much" you say before hanging up the phone.

Yoongi sighed and threw his phone on the bed feeling defeated.

~~~~~~

"Why are you so gungho about this woman? Weren't the roses enough? Who cares that she's Yoongi's girl" Taehyung asked.

Jimin looked over at Taehyung sighing softly. Till this day, he wishes things were different but he could never admit that out loud. At least not to his own best friends.

There’s always a bit of pain that comes to Jimin when he hears Yoongi’s name. They were close. Extremely close.

But he chose his side and Yoongi had chosen his. They have to stand on it. For life.

"I have to admit, even though she saved my life, you are acting like she saved yours," Jimin added. Hoseok chuckled and leaned back in his seat as he watched the security cameras from the hospital. He liked watching you work, he couldn't believe that Yoongi found a pure soul, a nurse at that. It's pretty ironic to him.

"I'm just interested. At first, I wanted to just repay a debt but now? I think I'm going to have a bit of fun." Hoseok grinned. “Do you think our friend has told her about his lifestyle?”

“I don’t think so. She doesn’t really seem like this kind to be okay with this sort of behavior” Jimin admitted watching the security cameras.

“If he did, he’s ignorant for letting her just go out into the world with no protection.” Taehyung added.

Hoseok grinned and nodded “interesting” he said.

Taehyung and Jimin looked at each other and then back to Hoseok.

"Don't tell me you're about to take Yoongi's girl" Jimin asked.

Hoseok chuckled.

"Define...take," Hoseok chuckled before finishing "Let's just say, we’re interested in making a new friend"

Hoseok smirked and signaled one of his capos to come forth.

"Yongbok" Hoseok called the young man to which he came quickly and bowed.

"Yes sir" he responded.

Hoseok smiled and looked at Taehyung and Jimin.

“Why don’t you two answer like that? You always give me back talk”

“We’ve known you too long to kiss your ass.” Taehyung smirked while Jimin chuckled.

"Things never change do they,” Hoseok chuckled. "Get me everything you know about that nurse. Follow her, befriend her, stalk her- I don't care just get me the information and do not hurt her. Report back when you've collected something."

“I can do that sir. I shall get started right away”

“Wait-“ Jimin stood “why don’t I go with him? It’ll make more sense for me to. She did save me and Yongbok could play like my concerned little brother.”

“And what if it doesn’t amount to anything more than a simple ‘thank you’ and ‘your welcome’?”

“Then I have another plan. Just trust me”

#bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts x reader #bts yoongi #bts jhope #bts smut #bts namjoon #bts smut drabble #bts mafia fic #bangtanwhq

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