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suhlogic · 6 months ago

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cold sweat [kim mingyu x fem!oc]

warnings: fwb, sexual tension, size kink, creampie, manhandling, daddy kink, overstimulation, mingyu is really touchy, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected sex , porn with little plot , body worship, pussy-eating, car sex , a bit of a self-indulgent fic

you and mingyu have been friends since your senior year of high school. the two of you were as thick as thieves, it didn’t matter if there was the risk of being separated in college— you two would always find each other during holidays and summer breaks in your hometown. but there was just one problem: you were falling hard and fast for the one and only kim mingyu. your mingyu who’s six feet and two inches tall of pure happiness and sweet disposition, the one who’d drop everything for you whenever you’re down, the person who was always cheering you on, and not to mention how handsome he is with his tan skin and prominently defined arms with his toned back as wide as the pacific ocean and those toned abs— but god, his smile and his contagious laugh that you could just constantly put on repeat no matter what time of day it is has you secretly pining away for your best friend.

being physically intimate with him was not an uncharted territory for the two of you, it just sort of happened one time when he came home drunk to your place and stumbled on your bed falling into a deep slumber as he cuddled you close in his hazy state. but you two never really brought up that night ever again, it did not matter if you two were sober or not, one of you would always offer cuddles and maybe a few stolen kisses in between especially when the both of you were stressed over schoolwork. it didn’t take that long for you to notice that mingyu was initiating them more often but repressed the thought that he could actually like you because you were just silly old you— always the best friend, never the girlfriend. but, little did you know, he fell first for you. of course he’d never admit that for the sake of protecting the friendship.

[10:00PM]

it was already late at night and you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bed so you decided to get up and shower to get ready for the 24/7 gym just near your apartment complex. after getting your things prepared, you decided to ring up mingyu to join you on your workout—or as he calls it, “gymscapade” for when you both get so stressed you need to work out a sweat. he picks up after two rings, voice clearly woken up from a deep slumber. “hey, what’s up?” he replies, “would you wanna go workout with me right now?” you ask, hoping he’s not too lazy in the confines of his bed on the other line. “yeah, just let me get ready in a bit. call you soon when i’m there.” he says with a yawn. “okay, just meet me at the gym near my place just so i can get a good warmup.” you say as the both of you exchange your goodbyes.

you make it to the gym not long after and decided to unzip your jacket halfway through your warmup. you were actually the only one in the gym since it was already quite late. while working up a sweat on the lat pulldown machine, you saw mingyu from the corner of your eye entering wearing grey sweatpants and a compression tank top. he starts to warm up for a bit as you went to where he was, “what are you going to do today?” he asked, stretching out his arms. “i’ll just do a few upper and lower body workouts, maybe squeeze in some lifting too,” you say, as you take a sip from your water bottle. it never really struck you how handsome mingyu was until as of late, it just wasn’t in the books for the two of you to actually get together or even fuck at the very least but knowing how tiny and short you were compared to his huge, tall frame made you run a bit hot and wet down there.

“care to spot me while i do bench presses?” he says as he takes off the dumbbells from the racks. you could barely lift what he pressed, it’s almost all-consuming seeing mingyu lay on the bench while you looked down at him as he lifted and praising him every time he’d do it. this position was not good for your health, all you could ever think about was him eating you out whenever he would moan out of exertion. you still had a few sets on the lat pulldown machine to go and asked him to spot you, to help you with your form since he was going to the gym longer than you have been.

mingyu couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair up in a messy ponytail, wearing a cute workout set with just a pastel pink sports bra with tight-fitting compression shorts of the same color. you were so oblivious yet fucking obvious about how bad you wanted your friend to fuck you and he saw right through it. the way your skin would suddenly feel warm under his touch or how you’d hide the hitches in your breath whenever he was too close to you while he observes your workouts. as you were doing your set, he was behind you closing the gap between you two as he made sure you were feeling the burn in all the targeted muscles. as he lowered down to your level on the seat, your back brushed against his crotch and felt something huge and hard. “good girl, just one more and you’re done.” he whispered lowly in your ear as you exhaled when you let go of the bar in an upwards motion.

as the two of you were helping each other finish workouts, he couldn’t help but gaze into your eyes with a hidden intent and leaned in for a kiss which made you set your dumbbells down on the floor with a loud thud booming through the room. it took you aback and you pulled away from the kiss, mingyu was shocked at your action and stared at you with wide eyes. “i’m sorry i couldn’t help it ever since that night i never stopped thinking about you.” he says, as you pulled him in closer and kissed him harder as your tongues became entangled. “jump,” he whispers as he starts to carry you. fuck, it was really hot seeing him take the lead and it made you weaker for him than ever before. he puts you down before you could even leave hickeys on his neck, “y/n, i’m not going to fuck you here, let me be a gentleman and take you back to my place,” he says with a mischievous smile, lips red and swollen from the steamy makeup session.

both of you grabbed your things and went inside his car, the tension was hot and heavy as his hand were rubbing your thigh further riling you up while he drove through the quiet streets of the city with you weak and submissive under his touch. it was something that set your insides on fire— seeing mingyu’s hand veins pop out from gripping the steering wheel hard resisting himself from pulling over and fucking you in the nearest empty parking lot he could find. as soon as the stoplight turned red, he looked over at you with a menacing smirk. “god, you just look so pretty and desperate for me, huh?”

you couldn’t help but be more turned on as you felt your core get wetter just because of his words and before you knew it, he was taking off your seatbelt for you and leaning in for a desperate kiss with his tongue exploring your mouth as if he had been waiting for this moment. “go in the backseat, now” he said in between breaths while still cupping your face, his usual kind and bright eyes, now filled with lust and a dominating gaze desperately telling you how bad he wanted this. as you made your way into the back, he followed suit and did not waste time taking off your bra showing off your huge boobs, its buds already hardened from the cold air. he smirked as you whined at how he took your nipples between his fingers and played with them, mingyu then sat you on his lap and felt his manhood through his sweatpants as you were just only left in your tight shorts that were clearly thin. “princess, you look so pretty like this. all naked and wet for daddy, huh?” he whispered as you began to grind your clothed pussy on his hard dick, just more wanting more from him. craving mingyu like he was the kind of drug you needed, so intoxicating yet so worth the risk.

with lust-filled eyes, mingyu looked up at you and pulled you in for a rough kiss, tongues tied with one another. as he pulled away once more, he started to leave love bites all over your neck and chest not giving a fuck who sees it— all he knows is that you're his by day's end. his rough hands began to roam your body and unclasped your bra skillfully letting your huge tits be free. his mouth immediately latched onto your tit while his fingers began to rub the nipple in between the other one.

"fuck, daddy please i wanna feel you inside," you moaned. he just smirked as he began to flip you onto the backseat so he'd be on top of you. "patience, angel, good girls get to cum." he whispers through gritted teeth, grinding his hard cock on your pussy, still clothed yet the thong you wore hardly doing anything to cover the wetness. as mingyu goes down on you to take off your underwear, he leaves kisses on your stomach and hips, "god, you look so gorgeous fucked out for me, why didn't we fuck sooner?" he moans in between kisses. he inserts two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, "so fucking tight for me, yeah, can't wait for my dick to be inside hm?" he says as you could just lose all sense of rationality with how good he is with his fingers. he then lowers his head down in between your thighs and eats you out, licking your clit as if he's a starved man.

"daddy, please i'm so fucking close," you whine, tears of pleasure filling your eyes. mingyu proceeds to insert three of his fingers and fucked you faster with it, his long and thick digits began to curl inside, "you like being a slut for me yeah? who fucking owns you?" he moans, "you daddy, please.. gyu.. .more," you say as he coaxes you into your first orgasm. he takes out his fingers, your cum coating his fingers as he proudly licks and sucks them off with pride with a devilish smirk. "you taste so sweet, angel... " he says as you begin to claw at the waistband of his sweatpants, desperate to feel his dick inside you. he smirks at how helpless you look and removes his bottoms along with his boxers, his hard, long dick standing in its full glory slapping against his chiseled abs, as its girth makes you wonder how it could fit inside of you.

"will it fit, gyu?" you ask in a small voice. "oh, we'll make it fit, princess, i've prepped you enough yeah?" he begins to jack off his dick preparing to put it inside. "fuck, you look so small for me, all for me..so pretty spread out like this," he moans as he teases the tip of his dick in between your folds and slowly thrusts it inside of you. "fuck...my god gyu so fucking good, please...move," you whine as he begins to slowly move inside of you taking his sweet time to be inside of you. god knows how fucking long he waited to have you like this, you just looked so angelic and slutty under him, it took everything in him to not fill you to the brim with his cum right there. his hands tightly gripped your waist as he pounded into you faster, feeling how big he is inside, hitting the tip of your cervix. you put your arms around the nape of his neck as you pull him in for a passionate kiss, hands roaming around his toned upper back leaving scratches on it as your nails dig into its broad surface.

you feel his thrusts get faster and deeper as he began to rub your clit helping you to also reach your second orgasm, "i'm fucking close baby, " he moans as his thrusts get sloppier. "cum..inside..me..it's okay,'m on the pill daddy"you whine out as you two feel each other's release, his cum mixed with yours dripping down your thighs. mingyu pulled out as he reached into the glovebox compartment for a box of tissue helping you clean up. "fuck...what just happened?" he asks, giggling. "we fucked," you laugh as he pulls you closer to him in the tight space with the steam-filled windows from the sex earlier. "so...i like you..a fucking lot," he starts as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours and kisses your forehead, "yeah, i do too gyu," you smile as you pull him in closer for another kiss, this time full of love and gentleness. "let's go home and finish what we started, yeah?" he says while you two begin to get dressed up and drive back to his place for the night.

#svt imagines #seventeen #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #mingyu imagine

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coriphallus · 1 year ago

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The Dark Urge thoughts (and prayers)

anyone whos been following me knows im absolutely not normal about durge and i wanna share some tidbits that are implied, but not necessarily canonised, from their story;

I already made a post about it but it seems like bhaal has a degree of control over whether they live or die. he can deny them death, if they fail the duel with orin.

bhaal can command the slayer. he forces orin to transform if you talk to her about sarevok and the scene makes it clear that its against her will.

bhaal manipulates his kin in a subtler way. in the colony you can find a letter from old durge thats apologising to his father for 'liking' gortash. you can interpret their relationship as something deeper but even if it wasnt, this reads to me as terrified and desperate.

the reason being, if you have a LI in act 2 you get the famous bondage scene. coupled up with the letter above makes me think this is a pattern. bhaal can use their feelings against them. he did it with sarevok and orin's mother, orin's mother and orin, etc... it's not as straightforward as 'if you disobey ill kill the one you love'. you will. durge will.

bhaal is testing them in act 2, he revels in chaos, sure, but in the grand scheme of things he doesn't care about isobel. even if you tell scel that you'll kill her you're told that youre too late, you ignored your urges. from durge, bhaal doesn't expect calm calculated murder, he expects blind obedience. failing to receive that his first punishment is to take away something they cherish. there are no half measures, theres no bargaining with a god.

we get so many snippets of information that this has happened before, their foster family being their first victims. theyre made to kill their support system with their own hands, with no one to blame but themselves. they are actually apologising to their father for being fond of gortash because (in my humble opinion) theyre genuinely afraid.

how many times could this have happened, how many nights durge couldve woken up covered in the blood of someone they love until they gave in, became daddys obedient puppet?

durge is groomed for murder. scel says 'you always failed to conduct yourself without me' and given who he is i dont think hes talking about table manners when he says 'conduct'. durge needs 24/7 oversight to set themselves right lest they get tempted by softer things. lest they dare to step away from bhaals grand plan.

durge do have a choice. just as shadowheart had a choice, just as wyll or astarion had a choice. its a choice only in name.

theres no ending besides refusing bhaal that their friends and LI wont die by their hands. the entire lore of bhaalspawn is that theyre meant to conquer the world in his name and slit their own throat a top the mountain of corpses. as cazador aptly put, 'theyre made to be consumed.'

you can pray to bhaal and the narrator says he won't accept [any offering] but the entire world.

durge (and bhaalspawn) do get some sort of euphoria from murder. they crave it like an addict, but bhaalspawn (on prev games) don't constantly have to grapple with these urges as durge does.

now durge is a slightly special case but not in a good way. its implied that theyre not like a regular bhaalspawn, that theyre made by bhaal directly -so to speak-. which is to say, if youre playing a drow, they are bhaals closest approximation of a drow rather than a drow flesh and blood.

thats why theyre fighting tooth and nail against these urges every step of the way, they are literally bhaal himself(in essence). the personality they develop, the person who calls themselves 'tainted' and 'wretched', the character thats making choices throughout the game, theyre the tumour.

theirs is the story of cycle of abuse cranked up to 1000 and it is in parallel to all other origin companions.

#bg3 #durge #the dark urge #dark urge #DU #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #personal

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mitfloya · 9 months ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

pairings. Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 6.8K

synopsis. He believes that by isolating you, he can protect you from the outside world and ensure your happiness together. In his twisted mind, this is his way of creating a perfect and eternal bond, you’re his muse, his statue of beauty, his own aphrodite.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiyaaa! Thank you so much for the people that have helped me make my post manage to slip through the timeline! I kid you not I had to break my spine with this issues I kept running into (the ori yandere Zayne post is gone, I’m sorry for the inconvenience), if any of you have any suggestions on how to make my post made it into the tags please tell them on the comments section. Get ready and have some snacks and hope you enjoy reading another hc I made

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

A manchild…? you love this guy? Me being a slander and simp at the same time

To put it simply, Rafayel is always the damsel in distress and YOU are his knight shining armor. He needs your attention and protection 24/7, you don’t want him to end up dead, do you? The whole universe will miss him.

First of all, he loves you. Second of all, he hates you.

You’re like a goldfish, how could you not remember the vows you both made when you were just a little kid?! The mere fact that you failed to recognize his face shattered his heart into pieces, for you hold immense significance in his life.

The weight of your indifference crashed upon him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions in ruins. It was like a tornado tearing through his soul, causing a gut-wrenching ache that seemed to consume him from within.

It creates a twisted cycle of emotions that he struggles to contain. He yearns for the love you once shared, yet despises you for not remembering the bond you had.

Perhaps he regrets not taking action in the past to ensure he could always locate you, to have left a distinctive mark upon you as a means of tracking your whereabouts.

You should’ve recognized him at first glance. Where have you been? He thought he lost you, he doesn’t even want to wish upon your death but you make it harder for him not to.

You’ve grown so much and so many changes but you’re still the same person he met at the beach, and it makes him feels so many emotions at once, it’s the first time he has managed to put a rein over his emotions, he could’ve coax you to come to his studio and locked you up, if you were to recognize him.

His heart longed to show much he misses you yet his mind tells him to seek revenge. It’s like his body and soul is splitting. Do you know how much damage you are causing him?

You must understand, my dear, that he is determined not to repeat past mistakes. It is time for him to take drastic measures, to make a promise that will bind you to him forever. He sees you as his ultimate protector, his unwavering shield. From this moment forward, you will never leave his sight again.

In his eyes, you have always belonged to each other, from the very beginning. Your destinies intertwined, your fates entangled. He craves the security of knowing that you are by his side, guarding his every step, his every breath. No longer will he allow even the smallest sliver of distance to separate you.

From the beginning you are his as much as he is yours.

His artistic talent is both his greatest strength and his greatest weapon. Through his art, he immortalizes his love and hatred for you, capturing the complexities of his emotions with every stroke of the brush. His creations serve as a constant reminder of his twisted desires.

Initially consumed by hatred, he concealed his love, allowing it to resurface gradually, in subtle and tender ways.

It’s the slowest burn you could ever imagine. Painstakingly slow.

As Rafayel's hatred gradually diminished, he began to express his feelings more openly, albeit subtly, leaving significant hints about the depth of his emotions towards you. Similar to a small forest fire that grows steadily, each progression was deliberate and methodical until it consumed the entire forest, an uncontrollable blaze that can’t be extuingish.

Say goodbye to freedom and welcome to his world, now that you’re his. He will be the center of your universe.

Clinginess is an inherent trait of Rafayel's nature. He craves your presence and attention, unable to bear the thought of being separated from you even for a moment. He will go to great lengths to ensure that you never leave his side.

You've grown accustomed to his playful nature and constant need for attention, but be prepared for an amplified version, as his demands intensify. Good luck dealing with your man ♡

He is a man of pride, he immortalizes you through his art, proudly showcasing pieces dedicated to you at his exhibitions. While abstract in form, this exclusivity serves to intrigue others, leaving them pondering what makes you so special in his eyes.

Unknown to you hidden away within his personal stash, there is a gallery dedicated solely to you. Every piece of artwork revolves around your existence, capturing his obsession with meticulous detail. The walls are adorned with portraits, each stroke of the brush reflecting his twisted love for you.

But at the very least, he showers you with lots of love and affection, no more holding back.

In relationships, he presents himself as a calm and romantic partner, radiating an aura of serenity akin to the sea. He enjoys spending quality time with you, whether it be casual outings or simply sharing space in silence. With him, you will never feel alone.

But do not be deceived by the calm waters, for they possess the ability to draw you into the depths of darkness, leaving you submerged and unable to resurface. His obsession remains unpredictable, much like the ever-changing tides of the sea.

Oh, how you've stumbled into his clutches the moment you made that fateful vow. There is no turning back, my dear. You have fallen into the siren's trap, lured by his haunting charm. You are now forever entwined in his grasp, unable to break free. You should have thought twice before crossing paths with him if you weren't planning to stay.

He has two preferred methods of dealing with nuisances. He may choose to be smug and show off his superiority, rubbing his success in their faces. He revels in flaunting his success and talents, using them as a means to intimidate and belittle those who dare to steal you away.

However, if they persist, he is unafraid to resort to physical means, utilizing violence to eliminate them from your life. He goes to extreme lengths, even shedding blood and concealing the evidence of his actions, all in the name of safeguarding your well-being and maintaining his possessive hold over you.

His possessiveness knows no bounds, his desire to claim you as his own overpowering any sense of reason. He will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else can possess you, viewing you as his ultimate masterpiece.

When faced with difficulty or resistance from you, Rafayel won't hesitate to take drastic measures. He is willing to use any means necessary, including drugs, to put you to sleep and kidnap you. He will isolate you in his studio, ensuring that you will be together forever.

His studio, the place where he creates his art, becomes both a sanctuary and prison for you. Within its walls, he controls every aspect of your existence, dictating your every move and stifling your individuality. It is a place where his obsession can flourish unchecked.

You will forever remain under his possession, as he claims you and binds you eternally.

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #yandere hcs #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel #qi yu #yandere rafayel #yandere rafayel x reader #yandere rafayel x you #yandere rafayel x yn #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #dividers by cafekitsune

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paulyenvol6 · 1 month ago

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Sweet Pleas

This is based on a request I received but I accidentally deleted it, I'm so sorryyy. I was lucky though because I wrote down the main points before and wrote something about it which I'm very excited to share. So to the person that sent the request: this is for you and thank you so much for your request. And to everyone else: Please send me all of your requests, I want to write want you want to hear and read your ideas :)

Here's a little summary of what the person requested: - Daemon x dornish/essosi wife with a good and stable relationship - degrading, mean, dom Daemon - denied orgasms, choking, marking, praising - aftercare and fluff

Contains: detailed smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, choking, marking, biting, bruising, slapping, degrading, praising, denied orgasms, size kink, slight pain kink, dom & mean Daemon, submissive reader, aftercare, fluff, loving Daemon in the end

Wordcount: ~4.65k

Masterlist

"My sweet lady wife.", Daemon whispered against your ear and you felt heat rising in your cheeks. You giggled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed next to your ear.

"You really expected me to make it through the night with you looking like that?"

You smiled which he couldn't see and caressed his back. In truth it had been your intention for him to desire you and touch you after the feast in celebration of the King's name day but you hadn't expected him to be so eager that he couldn't wait until it was over.

You had worn a revealing pink dress that looked amazing on your brown skin and as Daemon painfullly had to experience, your husband hadn't been the only one to notice your beauty. Lords and knights had their gaze a little to long on you for the Rogue Prince's liking so he had taken you up to your chambers for two reasons. Not only because he couldn't wait to lay his hands on you but so he could hide you from the other men's eyes. And you didn't complain but felt light and happy as your husband took hold of your hips and dug his fingers into your skin.

'Daemon, Daemon, Daemon' was the only thought in your head. It was always like this. He took control of every thought of yours and left you feeling consumed by him.

It wasn't like your marriage had always been that good. You were 26 now and had married the Rogue Prince 7 years ago when he was 24. It had been a political arrangement and far away from a love match because the crown had been at war with Dorne for a long time and to seal the new peace treaty, your father had given your hand to the King's brother who had happened to be a widower.

In the beginning the capital had been strange and odd, Daemon was foreign to you but over the time the two of you had started to develop a special bond and began to love each other. You had learned together, made experiences and now you couldn't imagine living without him. He understood you in ways no one had ever been capable of and… you just matched. He had shown you what pleasure meant and had taught you the arts of intimacy between man and wife. And now you were inseperable and each day that he wasn't by your side felt like there was a shadow hanging over it.

"My sweet girl.", he now whispered as his hands wandered up to caress the swell of your breasts, just very light and careful and you reached out to press him closer to you which he commented with a scoff.

"So needy.", he complained and shook his head. "I think someone forgot their manners." You moaned dissatisfied and Daemon grabbed your wrists with his left hand and held them in front of your body.

"Just be a good girl for me and take what I give you." You looked up to him with big eyes and he couldn't help himself but lean down to kiss you. You simply looked too delightful and delicate with your big brown doll eyes. Your husband decided to change your position and so simply picked you up and gently laid you down on the bed. As you were getting comfortable on your back Daemon slowly took off his shirt and he made sure to keep eye contact the entire time.

"Such a filthy little whore.", he growled as he approached you, sat down next to you on the bed and leaned down to kiss your already swollen lips.

"You just enjoy it too much, don't you? Seeing all those lord's eyes on you." His voice sounded husky and dark and it made your cunt clench around nothing. "I asked you a question.", he snapped and grabbed your chin.

"Y-Yes I enjoy it." Daemon smirked evily and suddenly, still sitting next to your lying figure, reached down and slipped his right hand under your gown and cupped your sex. You were surprised and instinctively closed your legs around his hand which he commented with a scoff. Meanwhile his left hand caressed your bare shoulder and also slightly pressed you in the sheets as if he knew that he would need to have his hand there once he started pleasuring you and you would move around on the bed. Daemon gently moved his hand on your cunt so you received just a little friction but you needed so much more so you squirmed and spread your legs further.

"Please. Daemon, do something." If you had expected him to give in you really didn't know your husband because he just smirked smugly and ran his finger through your slit.

"So fucking wet already.", he mumbled. "You really are a greedy little slut. Just need to pin you down on your back and you're dripping. Pitiful."

Your eyes fluttered and you really felt as if you were in paradise because this kind of Daemon was the one you needed. Obviously you hadn't known about your tastes when you had married him but with him you had explored what brought you pleasure and learned that you never felt more comfortable and desired than when he degraded you. Talked to you as if you were nothing but a common whore to please him. That mixture of degrading and praising made you melt.

Daemon, who had felt how turned on you already were, finally connected his thumb with your little pearl and circled it painfully slow. You whimpered and shivered and squirmed underneath his hand in an attempt to get more friction but of course he wouldn't have this so his hand on your shoulder pressed you down with more force and he watched you with flashing eyes.

"Stop moving so much. Little whores like you take what they're given. Cause that's what you are after all. A little whore to do with however I wish. A set of holes, each tighter and warmer than the other. We shall see which I'll use today."

It was insane what his words did to you and of course Daemon knew it as well so he used them to turn you into a muddle. Your eyes threatened to close when his thumb rubbed your pearl faster and his left hand grabbed your chin at once.

"No. Look at me, little one."

Your eyelids felt heavy and yet you obeyed him. You were beyond overwhelmed with his touch on your cunt and his voice that said these filthy things that made your heart beat faster. When he thrusted two fingers deep inside your hole you widened your eyes and your mouth formed an 'O'. As he was still sitting next to you on the edge of the bed he was in the perfect position to watch each of your reactions to his touch and words which brought him great delight. The way your eyes fluttered and how you bit your lip now and then… Your little sighs were music to his ears but when you couldn't help but close your eyes in pleasure a little later he let out a disappointed exhalation and slapped your cunt all of a sudden.

"Ahh.", you let out and twitched.

"I told you. Look at me." He yanked your thick brown hair back to expose your neck to him and lowered his face so it was close to your skin. You knew what would happen now and when he started to suck on your tanned skin you anxiously buried your hands in his hair. You didn't exactly love when he marked you with bites and bruises. Not because you didn't like the pain, no, in fact you loved it. But you feared that people would see it and felt ashamed of the thought so Daemon didn't do it very often. But tonight he seemingly wanted to do it, perhaps even to punish you and you were way too deep in your subspace to stop him. Everything you cared about was being good for him. Please him. So you patiently laid still as his mouth bit and sucked at your skin but only twitched now and then when his teeth pulled at your neck.

Daemon's hand hadn't left your cunt though and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. His two fingers filling your hole additionally to his dance on your pearl were overwhelming and made you see stars. So soon you felt your high approach and you clenched around his fingers which your husband took as a sign to stop and you let out a cry.

"No, Daemon please." You pulled at his hair and tried to make him lift his head so you could look at him but he denied you and just slapped your cunt in response.

"Shut up.", he mumbled against your hurting skin. "You'll get to release when I tell you to. And I'm not yet satisfied." You desperately whined and shifted which made Daemon softly slap you again but this time on your thigh.

"Stay still. I'll only be harder on you if you can't behave."

Then, after a few more moments he raised his head to proudly watch his work on your neck. You were bleeding a little at two spots and few bruises were already visible on your brown skin which made his heart flutter with possessiveness.

"I want all of these lords to see this. See that you're mine and that this fucking body is mine… Seven hells, you really are the prettiest little girl I've ever fucked."

His finger started to toy with your cunt again and you stopped sulking and sighed loudly. In the meantime his left hand connected with your chest through the fabric of your gown that you still wore and he took your nipples between his fingers.

"Will you look at this…", he growled and you could only watch his lustful gaze in awe. "Perfect fucking tits. Perfect skin and a perfect little cunt."

"Daemon.", you whimpered and his eyes wandered back to your face.

"What?", he scoffed disparagingly and pushed you into the bed more forcefully as you restlessly moved underneath his hand.

"Please I-I want to come."

He laughed out. "I don't care what you want. I just need you to spread your legs and look pretty for me."

You were not content with his answer but didn't have a choice but to unpaitenly wait for his next movements. His two fingers were shoved back inside of you and it didn't take long until you were close to the edge again. But just when you were about to cross it and already felt relieved because you thought he would allow you to reach your high now he stopped again and tears welled in the corner of your eyes.

"N-No.", you cried out. "Yes.", he merely spoke and suddenly manhandeled you on your stomach. "Stop complaining now or I'll find myself a willing whore and leave you here."

Of course you knew that he would never do something like that and yet you shut your mouth. You turned your head to rest it on your side so you could look at him but Daemon grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your face into the pillow which you commented with a moan.

"Spread your legs.", he breathed and slipped his hand between your thighs once more and soon his fingers danced on your pearl. You were a mess and couldn't control neither your mind nor your body. Your legs were shaking, your cunt soaking his hand and your mind couldn't think of anything except your husband's hands and how to make him let you come. Pleading and begging, you thought was your best chance.

"Please Daemon. I swear I'll be good, but please let me come.", you moaned when he granted you a little more space and you were able to move your head slightly.

But Daemon really seemed to be mean today and just pressed your head back into the pillow. "Gods, aren't you a desperate little brat. Can't even be patient for a little moment."

You cried out at a particulary well aimed thrust with his fingers that reached a spot deep inside of you.

"Mhmm… Poor girl.", he furthermore said. "Such a pretty poor girl. What a shame you're not in control here."

You whimpered in distress and tried to free yourself from his grip in your hair but you didn't stand a chance and could only get on with it as he denied your orgasm for the third time tonight and did all of it so smugly. You remained still and determined not to give your husband the satisfaction of your pleas so after he had ruined your high Daemon turned you on your back again. His body sitting next to your lying one probably only intensified feeling vulnerable and small next to him because he towered over you. Then his finger toyed with your pearl again which made you gasp for air, his other hand wandered to your mouth and without a warning he shoved two fingers inside of it. You moaned and twirled your tongue around it.

"Good girl.", he growled which made your walls clench. "So obedient and tamed. Just a wild little dornish Princess who needs to be told what to do. That's what you like, mhm?"

You moaned as a reply and sucked on his fingers that laid heavily on your tongue and made you now and then gag. You did all of it instinctively as your mind felt fucked out though he hadn't even freed his cock yet. But that turned out to change soon because after fucking your mouth with his hands for a while and enjoying watching your face tense in pleasure when his finger pressed into your little pearl, he stopped all of it all of a sudden and left you panicky as he stood up to pull down his pants.

"Get on your knees." Your mind felt fuzzy but you had been able to comprehend his words and so you got off the bed to kneel in front of him. His cock stood hard and looked so pretty against his abdomen that it made you open your mouth greedily. But before shoving his cock inside your mouth Daemon walked to the nightstand which made you frown feeling confused. You couldn't see what it was he was doing but once he was standing in front of you again Daemon lowered himself down to you and started to tie up your hair in a braid, mayhaps so he could take hold of your head better.

When he was done he straightened up again and Daemon smirked and felt his heart burning with desire for you. You, his little wife on your knees for him with these big eyes staring up to him. He wished he could save this image in his head for the rest of his life. You still had your dress on and though you had been living in King's Landing for a while now you remained loyal to your house's traditional dressing and wore a characteristic dornish gown. You truly looked like a dornish Princess with your jewelery and your dark features and Daemon's head spinned.

He wrapped his hand around his thick cock and circled your mouth with its tip which made you reach out to touch his cock greedily but he refused you. Daemon just pushed your hand away and moved closer to you.

"Open.", he demanded and looked at your mouth. Of course you obeyed him and let his cock slip inside of your mouth. Daemon seemingly didn't care about letting you adjust slowly because he hit the back of your throat which you commented with a gag. You tried to get away from him and squirmed but his hand had grabbed your hair and forced you to stay in place.

"Ugh uhm.", he made. "Stay still, sweet girl. Just stay still and let me fuck this filthly little mouth of yours.", he hissed and you tried your best to breathe calmly. Daemon breathed heavily as he started to thrust into your mouth as a steady pace. He didn't grant you a second to let you do as you liked but immediately took control over your head to merely use you for his liking.

"You're doing so… good for me, little one." His hand had grabbed your hair and he held you still while hitting the back of your throat over and over again. You struggled every once in a while and coughed but your aim was to hear him praise you so you did whatever he told you. And it worked. You twirled your tongue around his tip which made him exhale loudly and his eyes were connected with your kneeling figure.

"Fuck, just like that. Good girl." You pressed your thighs together and could feel the familiar pulsating spot in your core. After all you hadn't come yet and sucking your husband off only contributed to your lust.

After a while saliva, precum and some tears were rolling down your face and everything about it was messy. Neither of you cared though and Daemon only entered your mouth at a faster pace. Your hands had grabbed his thighs for support and he hummed in pleasure as he felt your tongue circling his tip.

"Yeah. That's what you're good for, mhm? Having your dirty mouth fucked instead of speaking up. That's where you're the prettiest as well." He watched you smugly and your big eyes looked up to him.

"Gods be good.", he growled. "Never had such a willing thing on her knees for me. I'll make sure to reward you, pretty girl."

His thrusts became more sloppy and forceful which was a sign for you that he would orgasm soon but he stopped and pulled your head away from his cock.

"I wanna save my seed for your tight cunt. You're gonna swallow it another time.", he hissed and dragged you up by your hair.

Once you stood in front of him he pushed you onto the bed and didn't waste any time to crawl on top of you. You whimpered, feeling so much lust and desire for him that the tiniest of his movements made your insides burn. Daemon forcefully spreaded your legs so he could lay between them and you were happy to obey. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock and ran its tip through your slit stopping at your pearl.

"You want it?", he mumbled against your cheek.

"Mhmm.", you made with your hands buried in his hair.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes. Please Daemon." But he still didn't give in and instead drew circles around your little nub.

"I'm not sure if you can take it, little one.", he mumbled.

"Yes I can. Please. I can take it.", you panicky cried out though deep down you should know that he wouldn't stop now.

"Don't want to tear you apart, sweet princess.", Daemon whispered and you squeezed his hand that was rested on your waist.

"Please. I want it." Your husband smirked widely because your begging got right to his head. Then he finally thrusted into you mayhaps because he was too eager himself and you both sighed loudly. His thick cock stretched your walls so well and you just loved feeling full.

"Yes.", you whined and your eyes rolled back.

"Feel me deep in your belly, mhm?", he hissed, overwhelmed with pleasure himself. "Feel me hard against your walls? Yes… that's it."

Daemon had immediately started to fuck you at a steady pace and his hips snapped against yours. You let out little sighs and whines and then felt his hand wandering up your body until he wrapped it around your neck and put pressure on it. You breathed croakily and your eyes met his as he held you tightly. You felt your hole flutter because you loved it so much when he choked you and Daemon knew it. So his hand pressed you in the feather bed and simultaneously used it as support to fuck you deep and hard. The mixture drove you to madness and you were a mess underneath him. He always made sure to loosen his grip around your throat now and then so some air could fill your lungs but he didn't show any sign of letting go of you. He restricted your breathing in a way that made you melt in his arms and in Daemon's eyes you could see pure lust.

"Pathetic.", he growled as he squeezed your neck tighter. "All I need to do is stuff your holes and wrap my hand around your throat and I have you whining for me. But you're not supposed to like this. Being hurt. You're just a little slut who gets off on the pain." You moaned and opened your mouth to gasp for air.

"But you're my little slut.", he growled against your cheek. "And now everyone can see that when they look at your neck. You're mine to do with as I like. Whenever I like. A dumb little brat who happens to have a nice tight cunt. So fucking pretty.", he purred and kissed your jawline.

Then he slightly loosened his grip again and you inhaled deeply. Daemon's hand that previously had been around your throat wandered down between where your bodies were connected to rub at your pearl. While you tried to collect yourself you felt him circle the nub that was so swollen and eager for release by now that you squeezed your eyes and whimpered.

"I wanna hear you, princess. Go on, I wanna hear your sweet little pleas." You moved along with his hips and now and then quietly moaned your husband's name. When you reached out to grab the sides of his face though he took hold of your wrists with his hand that wasn't occupied between your legs and pinned them down above your head on the bed. You felt so exposed and vulnerable but it was exactly what you needed and it felt so good. The only thing that you craved at the moment was to finally reach your high after he had denied your orgasm so many times so you begged him through your eyes as both of you were driven closer to the edge with each of his thrusts.

"Please. Please let me come.", you said and it sounded almost inaudible. Daemon sensed that he had fucked you deep into submission and you were nothing but a whining mess by now and suddenly he felt the need to take care of his needy wife rather than degrading you even further so he leaned down to kiss you gently.

"Don't worry, love. You were so amazing for me. I'll let you come. I'll let you soak my cock with your juices." You felt yourself getting teary eyes from feeling so small and now you just wanted Daemon to be close to you so you squirmed as he still had your wrists pinned above your head and your husband understood and actually let go of you.

"It's alright.", he purred. "Relax and let go."

And you did. With one last tight circle around your pearl you felt your insides tense and this warm overwhelming feeling spread all throughout your body. It was an amazing high and you had your eyes widened as pleasure washed over you. His name left your lips over and over again and then Daemon released as well. His seed filled your cunt and he thrusted deep inside of you to make sure it wouldn't drip out. He moaned and closed his eyes and collapsed on top of you.

You both panted heavily trying to recover from the exhausion and then after a while he rolled off you. You immediately reached out to him though and Daemon knew that you needed him close to you now so he pulled you to his bare chest.

"Shhh.", he whispered feeling you breathe fastly against him and soothingly ran a hand over your back and side. "Did so good for me, little girl… ", he said his voice nothing more than a whisper. He held you like this for a while so the both of you could collect yourselves but then he lightly patted your hip.

"I need to get you cleaned, love." You hummed in dissatisfaction wanting nothing more than to fall asleep now next to him.

"I'm sorry, but it's important. Come on, love." Slowly and with a deep frown you lifted yourself and looked at Daemon who had his eyebrows raised. "It's not gonna take long and afterwards I'll cuddle you to sleep, I promise."

You couldn't help but smile with big eyes and he pulled you towards him and guided you off the bed. There was a pot filled with warm water that Daemon had asked the servants to prepare for him every night because there weren't many nights when you were able to take your hands off each other and your husband didn't have the desire to ask a servant to bring water to clean yourselves with every evening so he had ordered them to prepare in advance. It wasn't burning hot anymore but it wouldn't be umcomfortable so Daemon guided you to sit on a chair while he dipped a warm cotton cloth in the water.

"Spread your legs, love.", he whispered and his voice made your head dizzy. You obeyed and he brought the cloth between your legs to clean your cunt. You twitched a little because you were sore and swolled so your husband ran his other hand over your thigh to calm you. Then, when he was finished Daemon removed it from between your legs and took care of himself. He cleaned his cock and after he had put the towels on a shelf so the servants could take them in the morrow Daemon turned to you again and had a soft smile on his face which made your heart flutter. His arms wrapped around your back and he carefully picked you up from the chair. He walked the two of you back to the bed and gently laid you down on your side while crawling to lay on his'.

The rogue prince kept his promise and reached out to pull you to him and you croached against him. You felt so safe like this with his arms holding you and his body covering and protecting you from everything else. His nose was pressed into your dark hair and his hands caressed your still burning skin.

"My sweet girl.", he whispered well aware that it was what you needed after a night like this. He had degraded you, talked down to you and now he made sure to treat you with affection and love.

"You're my sunshine, never forget this alright?" You nodded against him and he gently put his hand to your cheek to turn your head so you were looking at him.

"I love you, darling. You're everything to me." Your mouth was drawn to a smile and Daemon leaned down to kiss you.

"I'll always protect you and make sure you're safe and happy."

"I love you too, Daemon.", you whispered quietly and rested your cheek on his strong chest again. You closed your eyes filled with content and happiness. You loved him and you loved his tender and caring side just as much as his rough and dominant one. This was exactly the perfect mixture because while he fucked you you liked him to be mean and commanding but afterwards…. You melted in his arms and loved hearing his sweet words whispered in your ear. Only for you to hear.

"Sleep, love. You need to rest now and I promise you that I'll hold you all night and all nights to come."

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shanastoryteller · 4 months ago

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HAPPY PRIDE!!!

Could you, pretty please, write more of the Draco in the muggle world or Draco and the twins take down Voldemort AU?

Love your writings!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

George watches anxiously as Harry closes his eyes and Tori leans over him. He really, really hopes this works. They don't exactly have a backup plan if it doesn't.

Things are uncomfortably silent. He'd imagined this soul sucking business to be a lot more dramatic, but they can't see much under the large hood of Tori's pink robe and neither of them are making a sound.

Then she's drifting back and Harry's blinking rapidly.

"Did it work?" Ron asks anxiously, stepping forward to grab Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "Are you okay? How was it?"

"Wet," Harry says, eyes finally focusing. "I don't feel any different. Wait - my scar doesn't hurt anymore. Does that mean it worked?"

They turn to Tori, who gives a thumbs up. The dull gray of her skin has turned a shimmering silver now that she's consumed each piece of Voldemort's soul. All the dementors that had come to Hogwarts had sickly grey-black skin where it wasn't scabbed over. He wonders if that means they sent starving dementors to a school full of children and what idiot thought that was a good idea.

"Is it over then?" Fred asks uncertainly. "Voldemort's dead? For good?"

They all look towards Voldemort's soulless body that's still passed out on the couch.

Hermione raises her gun. Two shots and a smattering of brain matter later, she says, "Yeah."

"You seriously couldn't have waited to do that?" Draco complains. At least the polyjuice as worn off and he's wearing his own face again. "That settee is from the seventeen hundreds. It's going to take more than scourgify to get that out."

"Um," Harry says. "Okay. Well - should we. Tell someone?"

Draco waves a hand. "Yeah, sure, just leave me out of it."

"Leave you out of it?" Ron repeats incredulously. "You killed Voldemort and you don't even want the credit?"

"Technically, Tori did that - much obliged, Tori," he says, and she gives a bobbing head nod in acknowledgement. "And it was more of a team effort. Besides, no, I have a reputation to maintain if you've forgotten. I wanted Voldemort to stop hitting on my mother, now he won't, so this really doesn't have anything to do with me now." He frowns. "Besides getting the settee cleaned before dad notices. He'll go spare."

George thinks he might be more upset about the dead dark lord, but who knows with the Malfoys. Draco didn't turn out like this out of nowhere.

"You've been working to defeat Voldemort," Hermione says slowly, "because he was flirting with your mother?"

"Like that wouldn't be enough for you," he scoffs.

Ew.

Ron scrunches his face, then says, "Fair enough. But that still doesn't change how we're supposed to, um, handle this."

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm taking Tori back to the island. You guys figure that out."

"I'll come with you," George says eagerly, dodging Fred's hand when he tries to hold him back. He waits until it's just three of them to ask, "Do you really not have a plan for this part?"

Draco grins at him, wide enough that George can see the dimple on his left cheek. "Let's see what they come up with. I can't be the only one doing the heavy lifting around here."

"Okay," he says, wondering if now that Voldemort's dead, Draco will kiss him.

#that was harry's first kiss rip #could have been worse i suppose #asks #anon #prompt answers #prompts are closed #harry potter

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tokkiwrites · 6 months ago

Text

ㅤ𔓕ㅤㅤꪆৎㅤ𓈒ㅤ THREE'S A CROWD ＼ ㅤ♰ ㅤ⊹ㅤ ︵

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x f!reader x Francisco 'Catfish' Morales

summary: your dad befriended some nice customers from his bar. fast-forward a year, they're all you can think about.

tags: pwp honestly, threesome mfm (YEEPPEEE) dbf! Santiago & Frankie, afab!reader w she/her pronouns, age gap, pet names (lots!!), Santiago has a thing with you being 'pure', virginity loss, reader is literally horny 24/7, doms! santi and frankie, sub! reader, rougher santi and softer frankie ig, dirty talk, slapping, spit (for like a sentence), choking, hair pulling, double penetration (in the same hole), head m receiving, voyeurism, unprotected p in v (wrap your dingaling!!), masturbating in the mirror for like a bit, lmk if i missed anything!!

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ ive been on an oscar isaac rush for the past few weeks, and i had to. first time writing ab a threesome...sooo. im trying to write in different ways, so if it all seems jittery, apologies!!! this has like 3.6k words. its not proofread!! I TRIED MY BEST :( enjoy !!

'i need it.' was becoming like a mantra for you now. every day, needy for touches and attention, those dirty reflections that never left your mind.

of course, you've done things with boys. well, one boy, your boyfriend, and those things being your average makeout sessions and hand jobs, nothing more. you knew what sex was, of course, but the urge to experience the rougher side of it was overflowing by the day. and you know these wishes started appearing and consuming as soon as your dad befriended two customers from the bar you help him run, Santiago and Frankie. One year ago, you saw them only three times, maybe four in the span of 3 months, but their visits were more and more frequent and well, that's how their friendship started.

At first you were skeptical, unsure of their means, but you missed seeing your dad so happy and when you got to know them you realized they were good. What mattered was your dad being less lonely.

all though, that kind of changed eight months ago when, in the dead of july, you witnessed them helping your dad building a small summerhouse in your backyard. There's nothing wrong with that. Just seeing them both sweaty, with muscles bulging and hands dirty, woke something inside of you. and the fact that you broke up with your first boyfriend ever, that you were together with since 17, didn’t quite help.

So yeah, you were happy for your dad, but hated that you had to see them almost everyday and in turn sit hours on end with soaked panties on and, like a broken record, playing fantasies in your mind of these older men doing as they please with you. and you don't know why these thoughts plagued your mind just now, at the age of 21, but it was getting in the way of every aspect of your life, these wild things making you want to live inside your fantasy world and never wake up.

Today was no different: another late night at the bar. your dad went home early to catch some sleep since tomorrow he'll have to leave for three days to help his brother, your uncle, move into his new home. That's fine. What's getting you is him assigning his friends to 'keep an eye on you' like you're some sort of child. but, somehow, you can get over that. What you can't get over is how are you going to survive three whole days being just in their presence? when your dad's here, it's different. You don't need to spend that much time in their proximity, but this? you'll have to lock yourself in your room to keep those thoughts at bay.

you we're getting lost within your mind again.

what if you were to tell them about these thoughts? not that they're about them, just... you know, boy advice?

that's insane. and stupid.

would they accept should you propose you three entangled in some...activities? they'd for sure disagree- you were their friend's daughter, and whilst they didn't know you for that long it for sure didn't sound right.

what if they agree, though? one night. one night for all of your dreams to become reality..but you couldn't live after that knowing what you'd be missing forever. they'd leave after. what if you'd beg for them to stay, to have them do things even more carnal to you? if you begged maybe and gave your freedom to them.

These kinds of thoughts cloud your mind every day, and now, they are making you forget about the real world, where you were supposed to serve Santiago a glass of whiskey. as the sound of a low chuckle pulls you out of your trance, you feel liquid pooling around your palm that was settled on the bar. and when it finally awakes you, your eyes meet him again. your heart jolts, and it gets you lightheaded again.

"Oh, I'm- god, I'm so sorry Mr.Garcia...I don't know what happenedㅡ" You panic, wiping hurriedly the bar, prompting yet another laugh from the man. " 's fine, doll, don't worry. all though... your dad might turn into the reincarnation of Lucifer if he sees how much whiskey you wasted." he leans over for some tissues, wanting to help you.

"No, it's fine, I'll do it-" you smile shyly, placing your hand on top of his to stop him from moving, this in turn made him tilt his head up only a little, which awarded him with a quick glance at your barely exposed cleavage.

'untouched.' he thought to himself.

"I won't say anything if you don't." your ears pick up his voice, and for a moment, you forgot about what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I'm not gonna...say anything." Your lips curl into a shy smile. " Hurry and clean this up. I'm gonna take you home since you gotta close anyway."

oh, lord.

"no, that's fine. I can walk-"

"said I'll take you home." you breathe out a quiet 'oh, my god' because you're sure you've just had an orgasm from his voice only.

"See, I know you have manners ‘cause your dad taught you to listen to your elders, seems I just gotta get a little stern with you, huh?" you shake your head, not sure what to make of what he just said, but you finish up cleaning as the door opens to reveal Frankie. "why're you still here, man?" he inquired as he took off his baseball cap to arrange his perfectly curly hair better.

you can't possibly be serious.

"on duty." he laughs and points towards you. "Ah."

"You know... my dad hasn't left yet, so you're not 'on duty' as far as I know. Also, he said to keep an eye on me. Not be my bodyguards!" You try to scold them in a way. At the end of the day, you are an adult, right? "Easy miss." Frankie puts his hands up."I just arrived.”

"Yeah, well I am leaving. Alone! So please-" you move your hands as a signal for them to leave. "Excuse us for ever bothering you, miss. May we at least stay here until you close?” Santiago sarcastically banters. "I guess.." You shrug, finishing washing your hands and putting the glasses away.

you hate how much you like them. and how much you want them to ravage you. if possible, you'd let them both take you right there on the bar counter, whilst potential passers-by saw you get fucked into oblivion.

9AM, your dad left, and you can't seem to fall back asleep. the bar will be closed for these these days, so you have nothing to do except steep into your own boredom. You decide to make yourself a cup of coffee and grab a book from the shelf. With your coffee in hand, you head out to the backyard, where you settle into a comfortable chair. As you sip your coffee and immerse yourself in the pages of the book, you find solace in the gentle breeze and the sounds of nature around you, embracing the quiet moments of the morning.

this works for a while, but there's an inexplicable itch you want to scratch. with a loud whine that scares some little birds away, you head back inside to find other things to do. "Please, i can't keep on thinking about them. What is wrong with me?" You scream whisper at yourself whilst looking in the mirror places in your hallway, "like..genuinely!"

as you stare a bit more into the mirror, your hands make their way up your torso and to your breasts, nipping at your lower lip as you can't seem to ignore the warmth from between your thighs. you start imagining both of them having their way with you, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror as they pumped your holes full of their come. touching yourself more, light fingers make their way under the shorts you were wearing, finally catching a feel of how wet you are. you moan, knees buckling as you picture both men marking you as theirs in all ways. "p-please.. Santi, Frankieㅡ"

"my, what do we have here, huh?" your eyes open wide, and still in your pants and palm still over your sensitive nipple, as two other reflections in the mirror stare back at you. "Mr.Garcia, Mr.Moralesㅡ"

"Cut the shit, doll. I think we're way past that." he motions loosely towards the indecent position you were in. "You're lucky it was us and not your dad. '' Frankie states. "I'm so sorry, I don't even..I can'tㅡ" you stutter and turn around slowly to face them, arms now falling to your sides.

"You want us?" Frankie asks you in the most serious tone you've heard him. "I- what? Huh?" you're left speechless by this sudden interrogation.

"Do you want us to fuck you, doll?" Santiago reiterated. But you stayed quiet, head low, too embarrassed to admit your true intentions. was it wrong? certainly. but was it the only thing you've dreamed about since you first saw them? Of course.

"Why don't you answer? You act like a little slut and yetㅡ" He steps closer and Frankie soon follows. "You're too shy all of a sudden? We were the ones who walked in on you, you know? touching yourself in front of the mirror like a dirty whore, huh? what would your dad say, baby?" he taunts you whilst Frankie reaches his strong grip and tilts your head up to look them in the eyes. "You didn't answer the question, sweet girl."

it takes a few seconds, but you muster up a hushed 'yes', causing them to smirk. "Show us, baby. C'mon, tell us how bad you want it." Dizzy and drunk on arousal, you succumbed to their touch, kneeling at their feet and looking up, pleading with tearful eyes in a silent entreaty to do as they please with you. but they don't budge. They wait patiently for you to show them how desperate you can get. it all overflows you, the cold floor in contact with your knees, their scent, your rugged breaths. "Please, I want- need it. I need you...so bad. need you toㅡ use me" you rub your thighs together. "Please..?"

"for how long, baby, hm? since we first met? 'cause i know I've wanted to bend you over from the first moment I laid my eyes on the pretty thing you are." Frankie admits. " knew you had nothing else in this pretty head of yours, sweetheart. " Santiago laughs as he shoves your head lightly with his finger, causing you to whimper. "just wanna be fucked stupid, right? be our stupid, little fuck doll? that what you want?" and you nod in response, it takes you all of your power to not cry from how bad you want to feel them right now. "Ever done something like this?" and you shake your head no. "Shit. You poor little thing." he was right about you. He can feel his dick twitching at the thought of having you all splayed out, so innocent and untouched.

"We'll take care of you. But...we can't promise to be too gentle. All though I don't think “gentle” is what you want." Your eyes glimmer, and your head spins. Did you hear that right? Is this really happening, or are you having the most beautiful dream, and when you wake up, you'll be sorrowful for days?

They instruct you to get undressed, clothes falling to the floor as they force you to crawl onto the couch all whilst they watch, fully clothed. getting closer to you, their calloused hands explore each part of your warm body as trails of kisses leave you hanging onto them. "gonna ruin you, baby, you know that, yeah?" of course you know. you've been yearning for this moment for almost a year.

they proceed to get naked, Santiago positioning himself in front of you and Frankie a little to your side. You couldn't believe it. This was so much more than you imagined; they were both long and girthy, with Frankie being a little more veiny than Santiagoㅡ a sight that made you drool. this will forever be imprinted into your brain.

"You look like a dumb puppy staring like that." Frankie snorts. "Haven't seen a cock before?" he's getting cockier with his remarks, as he urges you to respond. "Yes, but.. n-ot soㅡ big.." your cheeks grow red as you see Santiago's dick jump from your words. "Stroking my ego like that baby... how 'bout you stroke my cock instead, hm? can you do that for me?" anything. you were willing to do it all for them, make them so proud, they'd never want to leave.

your shaky hands wrap, barely, around both their lengths, as you stare up at them whilst standing straight so your boobs are on full display for them to eat up with their hungry eyes. you do it slow, unsure if you're doing it good, licking some of the precum from their slits from time to time, swirling your tongue around eachㅡ putting on a show. "You've done your homework, huh? Do it a little too well for a virgin."

"c'mon, hands and knees, I wanna fuck this pretty mouth of yours." Santiago pushes you back as Frankie strokes himself. "Pretty thing" he says as two digits trail down your back and help you position yourself better onto the couch. Frankie finally places himself behind you, teasingly playing with your folds, letting out a soft 'fuck' whilst feeling how wet you were. "Stretched yourself out for use before we came, right, sweet girl? You want me to help you out a little moreㅡ?"

"Noㅡ! Please.." you eagerly interrupt. "You cockslut. Haven't had an eager little thing like you since I was in college." He laughs as he positions his length in line with your hot entrance, leaving kisses down your back he slips inside slowly, and you choke out a cry, eyes brimming with tears as a sting pangs through your whole body. "sh, sh..I know, baby. I know." Whispering gently, Santiago pulls himself down and cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. As your lips finally met, time stood still, the world faded away, and all that remained was the electrifying sensation of something within you igniting. It was a moment painted with the hues of passion and longing, a symphony of emotions echoing through your soul.

He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you as the pain slowly fades away and is replaced by pure pleasure. pulling away, he levels himself and taps on your chin for you to open your mouth. Santiago hisses, tugging harder at your hair as a response to your warm tongue enveloping the tip of his dick. "shit, baby, open up for meㅡ thaat's it. good girl."

shuddering in anticipation, you part your lips further, allowing him to push deeper inside. you were already a mess- drool dripping down your chin as he fucked your mouth like there was no tomorrow, tears that stained your cheeks as he pushed your head lower; muffled moans, how you were gagging around his length, pure music for both of them to listen to.

"look so pretty, baby, mouth stuffed with cock.." you stare up at him through wet lashes as he lands a slap to your right cheek.

At your other end, Frankie was cautiously moving back and forth, not wanting to succumb to the tightness of your wet cunt that almost sent him over the edge just as he put the tip in. "so fuckin' tight, baby. fuuck-" he groans as he hits a few hard strokes, your back arching against him and fingers digging into Santiago's hips. "you hear that?" Frankie asks, moving himself deep into your hot core, letting you catch the lewd and wet noises your cunt made wrapped around him. "she's so wet for us, isn't she? poor pussy.." you pathetically whine, as Santiago pulls your head back by your hair, making you stare straight into his darkened eyes. "don't go shy on us now, doll." he laughs, delivering another sharp slap to your already heated cheek. "you wanted to be a little slut and we're gonna treat you like one, soㅡ" he tuts, thrusting into your throat before he continues, "so, really, you should thank us." Santiago pulls away, leaving your needy mouth wide open, as if asking for his shaft in a desperate plea. Frankie firmly places his rough palms onto your ass before taking his length out and you cry at the sudden lack of them inside of you. "Go ahead," he adds. "Thank us, baby, c'mon."

you lick your lips, feeling yourself dripping down onto the mattress under you, too cock drunk and embarrassed to say anything. Santiago sighs, giving your cheek a few light slaps as his other palm slides down to wrap around your throat. you gasp, the feeling so new yet it felt like something you'd been missing for so long. "i didn't take you as the ungrateful type, little angel." he coos, as Frankie reaches under to cup your breasts into his hands. "are you an ungrateful little whore?" taunting you. " 'm n-ot.." you gasp, the lack of blood flow to your brain keeping you on the edge. "you're sure acting like one." the one at the forefront proceeds, running the tip of his leaking length along your puffy lips. "and here we were..-" he stops to slap it onto your left cheek "ready to reward you, hm?" they look at each other and chuckle, as if they weren't mocking you and the pitiful mess you were. "please, I'm-" you swallow. "I'm sorry, please. Thank you so muchㅡ ! just- please, please..."

"you sweet thing." Santiago intoned "sweet filthy thing."

"I say we fuck her like she wants us to." Frankie hums from behind you, his cock rubbing against your leaking entrance. "that's what you want, right baby? want us both inside your little pussy. stretch her out and ruin you for others.." and you whimper as your cunt pulses around nothing. "Yeah, she likes that. dirty fucking girl." It was raw and intense— how their command over you ignited an unyielding desire to please them, to make them proud.

they both pull away, and in no time, your body is squished between theirs, strong arms holding you down as if you're to run away. Santiago harshly cups your face, forcing your mouth open; He gathers some spit into his mouth, for him to promptly spit it down onto your tongue. He watches proudly as you swallow it all, his thumb running across your bottom lip. Frankie was biting your shoulder, sucking at your sensitive skin as he held you by your throat in a way that's sure to leave marks.

"lift your hips for us." Santiago commands, and you do as you're told. He tangles his hand around in your hair as his other one reaches down to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. He eases in, making you throw your head back onto Frankie, his fingers now massaging your sensitive clit. "Fuckingㅡ look at her, swallowing me in one go. pretty girl.." he coos, pulling your head back by the hair to face him. From behind you, Frankie slowly lifts you up with his knees and slips inside of you, both men moaning into your ears. Tears slip past your eyes again and you cry from the pain and pleasure as your mouth falls open, unsure if you're still conscious or not. "feels good, baby? us splitting you open right here where anyone from the street can see... you like that?" Frankie was right, all it took was for a taller person to stare a bit over the fence and they'd have front row seats at this show.

" 'course she does. little whores like her get off to that. bet she'd let us fuck her in front of her dad. let him see the slut his daughter actually is." With that, Santiago finally starts to move, his eyes rolling back as Frankie pushes down onto your lower belly, as he moves his hips. "So fucking deep, shitㅡ feel that?" he laughs "want us to come this deep, huh? have you all filled up till you can't hold anything inside of you.."

"p-pleaseㅡ"

"i could fuck this tight cunt forever, god." the other in front of you grunts, the hand from your hair now focused on your nipples and one placed firmly onto your hips. Frankie had one hand on your stomach and one onto your face, two of his fingers stretching your mouth open. You let yourself be taken over by them. it felt like you were flying so high and intoxicated by them, you weren't sure how you'd recover.

"thank you, thank youㅡ" you babble incoherently.

Santiago quickened his pace, causing Frankie to do the same, and with a few more strokes, they both bury themselves deep inside your core, white warm ropes painting your velvety walls. The sudden warmth and full feeling sends you completely over the edge, having you shake and pulse around them as you reach your orgasm.

you all sit there, them deep inside of you, you between them, breathing heavily as they planted kisses upon your skin. After you came down, you realized what happened, and worse, that it was over, a thought which made you let out a pathetic sob and clench around them out of desperation. "easy girl, we still have two days left." Frankie breaks the silence. "It was you who said you wanted us to use you, no? you who wanted to be our cum doll forever.." Santiago follows.

You're right where you want to be.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

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trippinsorrows · 2 months ago

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looking through your eyes + sixteen

authors note: healing is not linear. regression, sadly, is a part of the process. and ultimately, if someone wants to hurt themselves, they will find a way to do so.

*this chapter contains extremely triggering content. please ensure to read all content/trigger warnings to make an informed decision regarding your mental state and ability to consume the following work of fiction. your mental wellbeing is forever and always more important than any story.*

cw/tw: heavy angst, violence, torture, ptsd episode, victim blaming, reference to childhood sexual assault, thoughts and urges of self-harm, suicide attempt

gentle reminder that you can call or text the free, confidential 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 anytime, 24/7.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

“I–I just want to see him. Please—”

It’s got to be the third or even fourth time she’s tried to ask, pleading with her husband’s Wise Man to let her see her husband.

It was hard enough to get Solo to agree to take her to where Roman is, a medical clinic that’s clearly only open to tend to him and any other Bloodline member injured in the shootout. That’s evident by the lack of anyone present outside of an impressive number of Bloodline security.

An uninjured Bayley and Naomi met her at the house shortly after she arrived with Solo, and while she was pleased to see they were okay, to hear that Jimmy and Jey also made it out uninjured, the man she cares about the most is ironically the man she seems incapable of checking on.

She can’t find a way to settle her anxiety, continuing to play the scene of him shot, outside of her head.

That’s why she needs to see him.

She has to see him.

Paul sighs, and there’s irritation evident both in his tone and facial expression. “Solana, I don’t think—hey!”

Fuck it.

He’s silenced by Solana rushing past him, nearly knocking him over in the process. Eyes wide with shock, he stammers, looking just as bewildered as the security guards around him. “Well, don’t just stand there, stop her!”

The men rush to run after her, Solana well aware of the fact that the likelihood of her outrunning them is slim to none.

Doesn't mean she can’t try.

It’s a silly thought though because of course security would be up and down every hall of the clinic, sets of hardened eyes falling on her, ready to attack when they realize who she is. It changes the dynamic a bit. Expressions still stoic and lethal but also confused.

Solana freezes only for a bit as she forces out her request, a poorly delivered demand, really to the guards that line the hall that she suspects house the room Roman is being treated in.

“I need to see my husband.” No one says anything, two of them sharing an expression as Solana decides to try her luck again, knowing that they wouldn’t actually shoot her, trying to sprint past them.

She’s unlucky this time though because one of the guards catches her, restraining her. This makes her tense up almost immediately, fear rising up yet again for the thousandth time tonight.

“Let go of me!” Solana tries to wiggle her way out of the iron grasp, eager and almost needing to get these strange male hands off of her, such a stark contrast to the comfort and safety she feels when it’s Roman who has his hands on her. “I need to see Roman! Please!”

The man holding her and probably pulling her away from the direction of Roman’s room says nothing, just continues to ignore her demands to be released.

“Man, what the hell you doing!”

Solana’s head snaps to the side as she lays eyes on an enraged Jimmy who stalks over, his mere presence and tone causing the man to release her. Solana gasps a bit as Jimmy grabs the man by his collar and slams him against the wall. “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again! You lucky it’s me here and not Roman cause he’d already have a bullet in your head for touching his wife!”

Jimmy looks around, shouting, “that goes to all of ya’ll asses!” He points to Solana. “She asks for Roman, you take her to fucking Roman, alright?”

Bowed heads of shame and a sudden focus on the laminate flooring of the clinic, Solana is relieved when Jimmy walks over, voice calmer, motioning her to follow him. “Come on, Soso.”

Solana wants to ask Jimmy if he’s okay, inquire about Jey, make sure that they’re okay. Bayley and Naomi already told her as such, but they don’t know that. It’s just what’s most polite and appropriate, but all she can think about is Roman and laying eyes on him.

She needs to see him.

And as awful as it may sound, she cares more about making sure her husband is okay before anyone else.

Caught up in her thoughts, she misses when Jimmy knocks on a door in a rhythmic pattern, followed by Jey cracking the door open.

Jimmy sucks his teeth. “Man, open the door. It’s Soso.”

Solana, however, has no desire to wait any longer and finds herself, pushing on the door, forcing Jey to stumble back. “Damn, girl!”

She’s not listening though, uninterested in apologizing because she’s focused on something else.

Focused on someone else.

An older man with blonde hair pulled back, dressed way too casually to be a medical professional seems to be finishing up bandaging her husband who stands only feet away, shirtless, revealing the shoulder tourniquet that conceals the wound. The place where he was hurt.

Where he was shot.

Emotion renews, and a new set of tears reload as she finds herself moving over to him, pressing her body into his, doing her best to avoid touching his left shoulder. Her eyes shut, tears spilling over when she feels Roman’s hand on the small of her back.

“Get out.” It’s directed to the twins and who Solana would guess is the doctor who treated his wound, that last thing being what causes her to pull away, to look over at the stranger.

“No. You—you have to help him—”

The man chuckles and removes the blue latex gloves from his hands. “Lil lady, that’s a job only the big Man Himself can handle.” She frowns a bit as the man with striking blue eyes and an almost country accent explains, “He’ll be fine. Bullet went straight through. Didn't hit any bones, artery, or organs. If he takes it easy for a couple weeks, he'll be good as new. That’s assuming, however, he actually follows the doctor’s orders for once.”

It’s that last sentence that makes Solana wonder if this is the same doctor who diagnosed Roman with high blood pressure and medicated him for it. It makes sense.

But, it’s when they’re alone that the waterworks seem to really come out, Solana unable to hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry—this—this is all my fault.” She cries, Roman gently cradling her face as she shakes her head. “You–you got hurt because of m-me-.”

Roman looks thoroughly confused, asking, “what are you talking about?”

There’s such a heaviness in her stomach and on her chest. She doesn’t want to do this. God, she really doesn’t want to. But, it’s her not doing this in the first place that landed them where they are.

“Roman…..” She closes her eyes. This is so much harder than she thought it would be, and she never thought it would be easy per se, but she also didn’t think it would be this damn painful. “My—my father. He…he wanted our marriage to happen so—so that I—” It’s like knives splitting and slicing the back of her throat as she forces out, “he wanted me to kill you.”

If Roman has a strong or visceral reaction to her dark confession, he doesn’t show it. His expression remains unreadable, maybe a bit of concern, but that was present the minute he laid eyes on her.

“And he said that if I didn’t do it, then he–he would kill me, and that’s w–why you got hurt tonight, because—because of me, because I didn’t say anything.” A fresh set of tears generate as she desperately tries to help him and make him believe her as she explains, “but, I—I was never going to—I could never—I’d rather die than do anything to h–hurt you.”

And it’s the truth.

She would have rather him let the bullet hit her than him.

It’s not fair he had to pay for her actions. Or lack, in this case.

“Solana.” He cuts her off, gentle, voice much calmer than she anticipated in response to such a confession. “I already knew.”

And just like that, she’s back to not breathing again, rendered nearly incapable of speech as she stammers out a response, “w–what?”

Roman sighs deeply, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “I always knew your father was up to something. I’m far from stupid. He was too eager and pushy to make the marriage happen. It was obvious he had ulterior motives.” His eyes squint a bit, as he asks her, “why you think one of the first things I did when we got married was cut off contact between the two of you, huh? Whatever he was planning, I wasn’t gonna let him use you to do it.”

Roman’s words together make a logical, sensical sentence, but it’s the processing of it that she struggles with. Roman knew. He knew all along that her father was planning something.

And yet he said nothing.

He has no reaction.

He continues, admitting, “I didn’t know specifically what he had planned, but it doesn’t really make a difference. Murder. Coup d'etat. He wasn't the first, and he won’t be the last.” It’s the casual way he says it that Solana feels so conflicted about, so stunned how he can be so calm about constant threats against his life, against his empire. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, and it probably won’t be the last time.”

“Don’t say that.” She whispers. The trauma and shock of seeing him shot was bad enough, and seeing he appears okay is relieving, but the thought of it happening again feels almost unbearable.

“Solana, you know what I am and what I do. But, it’s like I told you before, I have a tendency to not die, which pisses people off.” His delivery towards the end manages to make her smile. It’s small and sad, but a smile nonetheless. “There it is….” His thumb brushes away some of her tears. “Don’t cry, baby. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She noticed. The same way she doesn’t like to see him hurt. For him to be anything other than okay.

Roman’s eyes shift into something softer as he asks, “why didn’t you tell me?” It’s a question born from curiosity versus the accusatory nature she would expect from someone who was just told their wife was sent to kill them.

It’s a bit of a difficult one to answer too. “I was—I was scared. At the beginning of our marriage, I—I was scared what you would do to me if—if I told you.”

There’s an almost pained look that flashes across his face as he vows, “Solana, you know I would never—”

“I know. I know that now.” She stresses, gently cutting him off. There’s not a doubt in her mind that Roman would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. “But, I—I didn’t then. And….I think I just—I didn’t want to think about it, because things were going good and—and I hadn’t seen him in so long, but I was wrong—and I should have said something sooner—”

“It doesn’t matter.” He’s the one to cut her off this time, shaking his head. “But Solana, your father has crossed a line this time. He tried to kill you.” Roman’s eyes are blazing with with the flame of anger and fury, a desire for vengeance clearly dancing at the forefront of his mind. “I know I told you I wouldn’t kill him until you told me—”

“I don’t care,” she affirms, voice darkening into something also angry. “He—he tried to take you from me. I don’t—I don’t care what happens to him anymore. Him or Wes.”

Because while she doesn’t know the status of her brother and his recovery, Wes was just as involved with the evil plan, so what went down tonight had to have some influence from him in one way or another. It makes him just as guilty.

Roman nods and kisses her temple. He then calls out, “Jey.” It’s loud enough for his cousin to hear, opening the door and asking, “what’s up?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate. “Get me Miller. Just Xavier.” Solana must look curious as he explains, “your brother isn’t well enough yet. I want him back to health, so I can prolong his torture.” It paints a picture of a brutal, gruesome ending, but she can’t find it in her to be repulsed. Whatever hope she had for her brother is clearly long gone, if it was ever there.

“You got it.” Jey nods and closes the door as Solana places her hand on Roman’s forearm, drawing his attention down to her.

“I—I want to talk to him before—-” She swallows, asking, “please?”

Roman nods. “Of course.” She’s thankful for his agreement but not entirely surprised. He breaks away from her, countenance shifts into something stoic and determined.

“This ends tonight.”

________

Solana’s introduction to the place where her husband has probably taken and ended more lives than she’d like to admit is definitely a one and done thing. The atmosphere alone is so dark and depressing that if not for her hand in his and him walking closely alongside her, she might even find herself a bit scared.

But his presence along with her determination to get in her final words to her father manage to carry her over.

She’s also both surprised and relieved when she sees Bayley and Naomi also present. She’s unable to ask them about their presence because Roman is already explaining, “I know you don’t want to be home alone tonight, and I’m not making it back anytime soon.”

She nods, not needing to know why. The edge in his voice is all the telling she needs.

Solana’s stomach drops a bit when she’s taken to her father, strapped to a chair, hands and wrists tied. His face is bruised up, cut, and bleeding. Her eyes must give away her curiosity, Jimmy answering, “he fell.”

Jey suddenly punches him in the side of his head. “Ain’t that what you said when you and your boy was beating on your own fucking daughter?”

Solana swallows. Yes. That’s often what he said to cover up the result of their abuse.

Solana drops her hand and steps a bit closer to him, Roman not once moving or ripping his eyes away from them. It’s virtually impossible for Xavier to do anything to her, but she understands her husband is not willing to take any risks, regardless.

She ignores the weapons and items around her, no doubt intended for unspeakable acts of violence and torture. She just focuses on the man before her, taking in the fact that this is the last time she’ll ever stare into his dark eyes and have to look at his evil face.

“All—all I ever wanted….was for you to love me.” She hates the emotion that chunks up the back of her throat, making it a bit harder for her to speak. “But you never did, and you never will, and—and that’s okay.” She recalls one of the many powerful, profound quotes from her book, reciting it boldly and confidently. “Your inability to love me is not a reflection on my ability to be loved.” She’d like to say she witnesses some type of emotional reaction in her father at her powerful statement, but there’s nothing there.

There never was.

Stepping back, she takes one final look at him, accepting this is the end of this road. The end of all the hurt and pain he’s ever caused her. After tonight, it’s all over. “Goodbye, Dad.”

Solana is back by Roman, taking her hand in his as Xavier’s small, dark laughter draws her attention back to him.

“Didn’t you ever wonder how they bypassed the security system? Both times?”

Solana’s brows are furrowed, confusion dancing in her eyes. Before she can say anything, Roman barks a rough order to the twins, “gag him!”

One glance at him, and she sees something unfamiliar, something that looks strangely close to nervousness.

To fear.

“No,” she finds herself calling out, stopping Jey who was halfway close to doing just that, bandana in his right hand. “What—what are you talking about?”

“Solana, he’s just trying to fuck with your head.” She hears Roman, feels his slight tug on her sleeve as he tries to pull her away, but she also detects something else.

Avoidance.

Roman is intentionally trying to divert her away from this conversation, topic, whatever it is.

Xavier chuckles cruelly, coughing up a bit of blood. “I warned that bitch. I told her what would happen if she tried to take Wesley away from me.”

Now…now he has Solana’s full attention.

She steps toward him, asking again, “what are you t–talking about?”

“Solana, please—”

But, she continues to ignore Roman and instead focuses on whatever it is her father is about to drop on her, something she feels is about to change everything.

Xavier’s bloody smile is cruel and taunting as he reveals, “I was the one who ordered the hit on your mother.” And before she can even sit on that, another bomb is dropped. “And you.”

Solana staggers back, jerking away from Roman as he reaches to touch her. Her mouth is dropped, her heartbeat erratic. She all of a sudden feels dizzy, but it doesn’t stop her from asking again, “what—what did you just say?”

“Shut him up, Jey!”

“No!” Solana shouts both at her husband and his cousin. “I want to know!”

“Your mother was planning to take you and Wesley away from me, and truth be told, if she left Wesley and just took you, I probably wouldn’t have given a fuck. But no, she wanted both of her children. She was a problem, so I got rid of her.” Each word that leaves his mouth has Solana wanting to sink further and further into the ground. “The hit was for both of you, but of course, you fucking survived.” The venom in his voice and hatred in his eyes is almost palpable, further deepening the pain of this betrayal. “I refused to pay them the full amount since they botched the job and didn’t kill you, but that still left the balance for your mother….the balance you paid for me.” And with the most vile smile of all, he adds on coarsely, “who’d have thought a kid’s virginity would sell so high?”

And it’s that statement. That cruel, vindictive statement that breaks her.

Hand to her stomach, Solana almost collapses to the floor but Roman is behind her, catching her fall.

Now that she can focus on him, on anything other than the millions thoughts racing through her mind. Random facts and statements finally coming together, painting a horrific, grim picture.

The failure of the security system both times.

The failed pin entry of her mom’s shaking hands and two years later, Solana’s shaking hand, as they desperately tried to enter the panic room, only for it to flash a red rejection notice.

It was him the whole time.

He killed her mother. He was the one responsible for her rape.

All of it.

Emotions erupt to the surface as Solana tries to break from Roman’s embrace and lunge for her father.

“I hate you!” She screams, unable to think and see beyond her pain. “I fucking hate you!” She can’t stop trying to break Roman’s solid grip on her. She wants to hit him. Wants to stab him. Burn him. Anything and everything that can make him feel just a fraction of her agony. “How could you do that to me!” She cries, wanting, needing an answer. Needing to know why. “I was a child!” She’s never felt something so heavy, so painful. “I was your child!”

As her physical resolve breaks, more diminishes than anything, Solana feels Roman trying to guide her away.

But it’s a mistake, it’s a mistake because she uses that slice of an opening to break away from him and snatch one of the guns on a table, pointing it at her father’s head. But then, she’s not. She’s not because Roman is suddenly standing between her and her target.

Her resolve falters for a bit, as she shouts at him, “move!”

Jimmy’s furious voice calls out. “Man, let her do it, Roman!”

Roman’s gaze is fiery as he silences his cousin with a shout. “Shut up!” But just as quickly as he was enraged, his expression softens almost inhumanly quickly as he pleads, “Solana, listen to me—”

She’s not trying to hear it though. She can’t hear it. “He killed my mother! My mother!”

“I know,” his expression softens into something solemn and sympathetic. “But you don’t want to do this—“

She snaps, her fingers on the gun tightening, her grip firm and focused. “He needs to die!”

“And he will, I promise you that. Slowly. Gradually. In the agonizing way that he deserves, but that can only happen if you let me do this for you—”

Solana cries, shoulders dropping but her aim still intact. “He let them rape me.” Her body trembles, a combination of her heartache and inconsolable rage. “He took her from me! She was my mother!”

If not for the severity and all around heightened tensions, Solana would notice the heartbreaking and furious expressions of the twins, Bayely, and Naomi who now know the exact horror she has experienced. The reason for her disposition. The source of her trauma.

Roman, however, remains focused on de-escalating the situation. “I know, baby, but you’re not a killer, Solana, and I’m not about to let you become one.” If she was thinking straight, capable of thinking clearly in this moment, she’d know he’s only protecting her. Only trying to save her from the thing she told him not even a week ago she could never forgive herself for. Taking someone’s life. “Once you do this, there’s no turning back.”

Solana’s eyes shut as another round of tears makes its way to the surface, heavier and harder to manage with the gun in her hand.

Roman notices this and takes a tentative step forward. “Please, Solana.” His tone is almost desperate, borderline begging. “Give me the gun.”

Eyes still closed and with a weakness she hasn’t felt in years, Solana relents, loosening her grip, allowing Roman to take the gun that he quickly hands to Jey. He moves to catch her as she falls into his chest, sobbing again. Roman cradles her head and kisses the top of her hair while Jimmy and Jey move to jump Xavier, taking that opportunity to get blows in on the old man, both careful to avoid any that could be lethal.

It’s obvious this son of a bitch is in line for a world of suffering that will extend far past tonight.

“Oh, we finna take our time killing you, motherfucker.”

Everything sounds a bit distant. The sound of the twins yelling obscenities at the demon she called a father. Roman trying to comfort her, to settle her. It’s all too much. Too overwhelming. The crying settles into something sullen and solemn, silent tears streaming down her face as she murmurs against him, “I want to go home.”

The emotion is there, but her presence and awareness of everything is diminishing. Solana knows what’s coming, has experienced this state of separation, of dissociating.

She needs to get away.

Roman says something she can’t make out, and before she realizes it, there’s another set of arms around her. Bayley. Naomi is chatting with Roman, the only thing she’s able to make out,

‘Don’t leave her alone.’

Alone.

She’s not sure she’s ever felt that as strongly as she does at this moment.

________

It’s all such a blur.

Such a separate thing. Emotions separate from her. Emotions that are dark, heavy, confusing, overwhelming. Fleeting. There’s an oscillation of all the feelings. Tears that accompany heartache. Sobbing that accompanies grief. Nothing that arrives with nothing.

It’s a brutal, miserable experience of feeling the weight of the world but also the emptiness of the void.

It’s obvious that Naomi and Bayley don’t know how to help her, don’t know how to comfort her, just continue to sit with her, letting her cry when she needs to and scream when she has to. Even Dulce sits by her side, whimpering every so often and licking her.

It’s appreciated. So appreciated.

But….it’s not enough.

Losing her mother was heartbreaking. Losing her in the way she did, so violently and graphically was torture.

Being held down and gang raped by two grown men at twelve years old nearly killed her. They nearly killed her.

But, there’s something about finding out that her father, her biological father, was responsible for those two things that’s almost impossible to believe.

She knew her father was cruel.

She just didn’t know just how cruel until this very evening.

Escape.

Her mother was trying to escape, trying to make a better life for herself and her children. And he killed her for it.

Tried to kill Solana too, and when that didn’t work, he traded her virginity in exchange for payment.

Flashes. Glimpses. Images.

They’ve been hitting her nonstop since the truth came out. Playing in her mind like some kind of sick horror film. It’s torture. It’s painful. It’s unbearable.

It’s too much.

She places her hands on the bathroom counter, having finished using the bathroom after waking up yet again from night terrors.

Her eyes shut.

Solana is tired.

So so tired. Tired of the pain. Of the lies. Of the betrayal. Everything hurts. Everything feels so heavy. She tries to escape in sleep, but the memories haunt her and suddenly, she’s reliving it all, but now with the horrific knowledge that the first man who should have ever loved and protected her was responsible for her biggest traumas.

And it’s impossible to escape those flashes, those thoughts and flashbacks becoming more frequent and intrusive by the minute. She’s suffocating.

Drowning in her own head.

Drowning in her own body.

Solana’s eyes open and fall over to the shower where her razor would have been available if not for her earlier strength and ability to hand it and the brand new box of them over to Bayley and Naomi.

Just an hour or two ago, she was able to do that much. Able to resist that temptation and not break years of sobriety.

But, now…. now she can’t.

She doesn’t even want to.

That would only provide a temporary escape.

She’s just….just so tired.

She wants….needs something longer.

Something more permanent.

Unable to escape the mental anguish, Solana leans down and digs through a toiletries bag from the trip she hasn’t unpacked.

And she pulls out the bottle of sleeping pills.

Roman’s request from months ago returns, smacking into her.

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Her eyes water.

Roman….

Even with his lack of being honest with her, of somehow knowing but not telling her the truth, there’s never been a person that she’s loved more than him. Not since her mom.

It’s why she can’t call him. Can’t continue to burden him with having to deal with all her shit.

All she’s done since entering his life is make shit difficult. She’s done it with him. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey.

All of them.

They’ve had to adjust so much just for her, and for what? For her to end up right back where she started?

She can’t….she can’t do that to them again.

She can’t do that to Roman again.

She loves him too much for that, loves him too much to continue to hurt him.

She just….she just needs to remove herself from the equation.

Needs to remove herself from all of their lives.

Forever.

Shaking hands twist off the cap as she dumps a handful of pills into her trembling palm.

There’s the briefest second of a delay, a moment where she reconsiders, where she wonders if she’s making the right decision. But another flashback hits her, the feeling of the knife slicing through her mother’s lifeless body and entering Solana ripping her away from that reconsideration.

Another thought of Roman and her friends having to help her yet again.

Save her again.

She can’t do it anymore. She doesn’t want to do it anymore.

There is no saving her anymore.

This is the only way.

And she swallows, using the water bottle on the counter to force the excessive amount of pills down her throat. A brief glance at her reflection brings on another set of silent tears. Broken. Empty. There’s nothing left for her to do, no reason for her to exist anymore.

Not even bothering to put the pills away, Solana walks out of the bathroom and into the dark bedroom where Bayley is the first to ask, still sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, dedicated to staying awake for her ‘shift’, completely unaware of this being the last time they’ll interact. “Do you need something?”

Solana shakes her head and climbs back onto the bed. Grabbing her phone, ignoring the tears that blur her vision, she types out a simple text to the one person she’ll miss the most.

She’ll miss them all, but none more than him.

Solana: I’m sorry.

Sent and delivered, she locks her phone, placing it on the nightstand, closing her eyes.

Solana just wants to go to sleep.

And this time…..not wake up.

________

Rage.

Fury.

Wrath.

And any word synonymous to anger, yet none of them adequately describe what’s coursing all throughout Roman’s body. Years. It’s been years since he’s felt this much anger, held so much of it that he has a hard time thinking and feeling.

He’s incapable of escaping the sound of Solana’s sobbing, the way she literally fell apart in front of him, breaking before him.

And it’s all because of the son of a bitch currently underneath him on the receiving end of devastating blow after blow of Roman’s brass knuckled fists. How long he’s been hitting the old man is beyond him. Not long enough.

It’ll never be long enough.

Never painful enough.

Not for what he’s done.

A hand on his uninjured shoulder temporarily pulls him away from his newfound life mission to make this piece of shit feel every type of pain imaginable before he takes his last breath.

Roman’s roar bounces off the walls. “What!”

Jey looks unfazed by Roman’s irate tone and instead advises, “he’s unconscious, Uce. Let up or you gon kill him.”

That’s the fucking goal.

But not yet. Death is too sweet for Xavier to receive at this point.

Huffing and suddenly aware of all the energy expended as well as the blood splattered all over his clothes and face, Roman tosses the knuckles to the side and issues an order to Jey even while walking, refusing to acknowledge any appreciation for his warning, “let me know when Jimmy has them.”

Them.

Them being the two men who have no idea what kind of horror awaits them. Men whose names were tortured out of Xavier pretty easily by Roman.

Rapists.

Solana’s rapists.

Reaching the locker room in the back, Roman easily strips himself naked and steps in the shower, allowing the water to rain down his body, red mixing with clear and disappearing down the drain. Hands against the shower wall, he shuts his eyes.

He can’t escape the sound of Solana’s wails. He’s never heard or seen her so upset. Never wanted to. It’s the exact reason he settled on not telling her the truth, because he knew this would happen.

Knew this would destroy her.

It’s just the extent of the destruction that worries him.

Just how far back this has set her that has him feeling something he hasn’t felt in years but has now experienced twice tonight. Once when he saw the hand raised and gun lifted in Solana’s direction and now her breakdown.

Fear.

It has him scared.

And Roman doesn't know what to do with that emotion, doesn’t know how to handle it outside of beating the shit out of and torturing her father and rapists. But even that only does so much.

It doesn’t do enough, because she’s hurting, more than she probably ever has, and he can’t do shit about it.

Because making the fuckers who hurt her suffer doesn’t do shit for the pain she’s experiencing now.

And he hates that shit. Hates that she’s hurting and he can’t help her, take away that pain from her.

With all the frustration in his body, Roman slams his fist into the shower wall, forcing himself to calm down just enough to get cleaned up.

He uses a fresh set of clothes in the lockers to redress himself, redoing his bandages and using a towel to dry off his hair as best as possible.

But, it’s when Jey comes and seems to interfere with Roman starting his next round of torture, a thought of starting to skin the old man sounding more than desirable, that his frustration multiplies.

“Not now.”

Roman continues to walk when he feels Jey forcefully grab his arm, forcing him to turn around. Roman looks at his hand and then back at Jey. “Have you lost—”

“Roman.”

But, it’s the tone that stops the Head of the Table from issuing out his threat. In all the years he’s known Jey, he’s never heard his cousin use such a heavy, spooked tone.

“What?” There’s hesitation, and that only pisses Roman off. “What!”

Jey swallows, answering with an almost pained countenance. “Solana’s at the hospital.” Jey’s frown, sadness seeped and imbued into his usual gregarious voice. “She tried to kill herself, Roman.”

________

Three.

There’s now been three separate occurrences in a single day that have caused Roman to experience the emotion most unfamiliar to him.

Fear.

And this third time, it’s the strongest it’s ever been as he marches into the hospital floor where he was informed she was.

“Where is she!”

And when his gaze lands on a clearly disturbed and crying Naomi and Bayley, the anger only grows as he moves over to them. “What the fuck happened!” Roman doesn’t give them time to respond, too consumed with his anger that’s truly a mask hiding his fear. “Why weren’t you watching her! I fucking told you to watch her!”

Bayley is the first to shoot up from her chair, eyes watery but scowl intact. “We were! She—”

But, he’s not trying to hear shit what she has to say. Not when they’ve failed him in the worst way possible. “Obviously you fucking weren’t because we’re standing in a goddamn hosptal–”

Jimmy, who Roman had completely forgotten came along with him, Jey as well, does his best to diffuse the situation, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roman, you need to calm—”

But the Head of the Table is too far gone, harshly shrugging off his cousin’s innocent attempt at calming him down. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Roman removes himself from their presence, not even wanting to see these useless bitches as he calls out once again. “Where is she!”

It’s only then he sees a blonde woman walk out from the back, dressed in a white coat, clipboard in hand. She looks irritated which only pisses him off because how the fuck do you work at a fucking hospital and look annoyed. But, when she sees him, or maybe sees how irate he is, her gaze softens.

She steps in his direction as Roman also steps toward her, putting some distance between himself and the group. “Mr. Reigns, can—”

“Where is my wife?” It’s the same question he will keep asking until it no longer needs to be asked because he’s taken to her.

The woman, doctor, probably, frowns, motioning to the back. “Can we talk in private?”

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose, doing his best not to violate his code of never putting his hands on a woman. But, this bitch is really fucking pushing it.

He just wants to see Solana.

He needs to see her.

“You’ve got three fucking seconds to take me—”

She scoffs, relenting and “Fine, we’ll do it here. Your wife is in recovery. We were able to successfully pump her stomach, but we had to sedate her because she was inconsolable upon waking up. I suspect she’s in the midst of some sort of psychotic episode.”

There’s so much in that sentence to process. Roman doesn’t even know where to begin to dissect it, so he starts with the part that pisses him off the most. “She tried to overdose on pills and your solution was to put more fucking medicine in her?”

The doctor, however, seems to show no sign of backing down. “My patient needed to be stabilized, so I stabilized her.” Her voice softens a bit as she adds, not necessarily as something to throw in his face but rather an important note he shouldn’t ignore. “If you had seen how upset she was, you would have understood.”

Roman, however, can’t think about that. Can’t think about how upset and terrified Solana must have been. Somehow a level calmer, he expresses once again, “I want to see her.”

“I understand, but—”

Right away, Roman knows his brief respite from level 10 rage is about to be broken by whatever she’s about to say. “What?”

She takes a deep breath, informing, “I’m putting her on a 5250 hold.”

Roman looks from side to side. “What the fuck does that mean?”

There’s no sign of hesitation as she explains, “it means I’m keeping her here in the hospital for two weeks on a legally mandated psychiatric hold.”

Yeah….he was absolutely right.

Level fucking 10.

“Like hell you are!” Roman is seeing red. Who in the flying fuck does this bitch think she is to say Solana is staying in the hospital? “She’s coming home with me. Tonight. The minute she fucking wakes up.”

And that’s a fact.

“How much do you know about Solana’s psychiatric history?” A lot, and that’s why he knows she doesn’t need to stay here in this forbidding, sterile place. She needs to be home with him so he can take care of her. “This is her second suicide attempt. Now, I don’t know what the hell happened to trigger this psychotic break, but your wife is severely and actively suicidal.” She lowers her voice, softly and almost sympathetically sharing with him so only he can hear. “She was inconsolable because she was upset we saved her life. She was upset she was still alive.”

That’s it.

The thing that makes Roman’s anger crumble almost entirely.

He wanted to believe it was a mistake, an accident of some sort. Didn’t want to believe that she truly intended to take her life tonight.

But this woman has no reason to lie, and beyond that, he’s innately adept at deciphering when someone is lying and when they’re being truthful.

She’s not lying.

Solana wanted to die.

Solana wanted to actually die.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

At all.

The crack in his harsh exterior must be evident, because the doctor continues to try to convince him what he now knows probably is the right thing to do. “You can get her to sign an AMA and take her home, but I guarantee you that she’ll end up right back in this hospital for another attempt…..and the next time might be too late.”

He can’t.

Roman can’t lose her. He can’t even let himself think about what he would do if he lost her.

Especially if it was because of her own actions.

She continues, desperate, “let us get her stabilized. On a medication regimen. As I said, this presents as a brief psychotic episode, which we can help her manage and treat but only if you let us keep her here to monitor her.”

Roman tilts his head back, eyes closed as he scratches his beard. There’s an unfamiliar weight in his chest and stomach at the thought of having to leave this hospital tonight without Solana. But this isn’t about what he wants, it’s about what’s best for Solana.

It’s about what she needs, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to make sure she gets the help she needs.

“Jey.” His cousin steps up, previously keeping a respectful distance. “Get with security. I don’t want a son of a bitch that’s not Bloodline or Bloodline vetted to step foot on this floor while she’s here.”

Jey nods. “You got it.”

Roman overhears footsteps followed by the woman speaking again, “Thank you.” She takes another deep breath and informs, “Now, it’s standard practice that we not allow visitors the first couple days—“

And just like that, the anger has returned, even more intense now that he knows Solana isn’t getting released tonight. Or anytime soon. “I don’t give a fuck about your standard practice—”

Bayley’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, Roman aware that the remaining group has stepped forward, obviously wanting to be aware of the plan and what happens now. “Roman, can you please just let Dr. Stratus do her fucking job? This isn’t about—”

Bayley, however, chose the wrong time to fuck with him. Because any filter he ever acquired because of Solana certainly won’t be used until she’s back home, with him, where she belongs. “Like you were supposed to? Solana wouldn’t be here if you were watching her like I fucking told you to! This is your fault!”

There’s a small, minute part of him that feels bad when he sees the devastation on Bayley’s face, but it’s short lived, vastly overpowered by his tremendous anger.

And fear.

Bayley is quick with the response though, ready and willing to aim just as low as he is. “Fuck you, Roman! You don’t get to blame this on us! You should have fucking told her! You had no right to keep the truth from her! She’s here because of you!”

The dark irony in her accusation is that It’s nothing he doesn’t already know.

Nothing he doesn’t already hate himself for.

Bayley is absolutely right.

This absolutely is on him.

His attempts to save her only damned her.

“Stop it! Both of ya’ll! This don’t do shit to help, and Solana wouldn’t want ya’ll fighting!” Jimmy suddenly jumps in, moving between the two highly emotional people, even if both are only expressing it as anger. He turns to his cousin first, as Naomi tries to pull Bayley away, also working to de-escalate an already tense situation. “Look, Uce, I know you want to see her, but—”

“I’m not leaving without seeing her.” Roman’s gaze is on his cousin but it’s directed toward the doctor who either takes some type of mercy on him or recognizes that Roman will literally kill everyone who gets in his way if she doesn’t give in to his demand, because she’s switching her tune.

“A couple of minutes,” she relents. “But only you.”

Roman doesn’t care about the rest of them anyway. They can see her whenever they fucking see her.

He’s the one who needs to see her.

But, it’s in seeing her that a part of him wishes he didn’t. Because this isn’t right. She shouldn’t be laid up like this, unconscious, pale, such a sad expression on her sleeping face.

He hasn’t seen her like this since that first night he overheard and woke her up from her nightmare.

A nightmare.

He’d give anything for that to be the case again.

“I can’t lose you, Solana.” It's the first thing to leave his mouth, a plea and prayer. There’s nothing but vulnerability in his voice, and he doesn’t give a fuck. He’ll be as vulnerable as he needs to be for her. He’ll do anything for her. “I need you. I told you that, but I don’t think you understand how badly I need you.”

If there was any doubt before, it’s completely destroyed now. He doesn’t know how honest or comfortable he could be outside of these four walls, if it wasn’t just the two of them, but right now, with nothing but her steady breathing and rhythmic beating of the machines she’s plugged up to, he’ll pour his heart out.

“You can’t leave me, alright?” Roman’s hand moves to her forehead, thumb caressing her skin that feels too cold, doesn’t feel like her. “I don’t care what it takes, what you need, what I have to fucking do, but I need you to get better, and I’ll do anything to help you.”

And he will. It’s why despite how much he hates this notion of having to leave her, the almost anxiety he has at having to leave tonight without her in his arms, he’ll do it. He’ll do it because he just wants her to be happy.

She deserves that, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it to her.

His voice is thick with emotion. “I just need you to stay with me, baby, okay?” Not being able to see her pretty brown eyes, the curl of her full lips as she smiles, his favorite fucking thing in the world, it’s torture.

He never wants to see her like this again.

He can’t.

He won’t.

Roman kisses her forehead and forces himself to walk out of the hospital room, one of the hardest departures he’s ever had to do. Dr. Stratus is waiting outside the door, and just like that, the infamous stoic, unreadable expression is back.

With Solana, he’s just Roman.

But for everyone else, he’s the Tribal Chief.

There is no other option.

“No men on her care team. Women only.” If she’s going to be here, he’s going to make sure she

has everything she needs. “I want daily updates. Anything happens or changes with her status at all, I want to know. You understand me?”

Dr. Stratus must have also read the section in Solana’s medical records that alludes to her sexual trauma, because she doesn’t object. “Understood.” She swallows, bringing the medical chart to her chest. “You know…I head an inpatient women’s psychiatric clinic about an hour out. It’s not uncommon for patients like your wife to transition there following dis—”

“You can keep her on your two week hold, but she’s coming home with me as soon as that’s up. Try and get in my way, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

She’s wise to not push, smart to not try to stop him from leaving, because as far as Roman is concerned, there’s nothing and no one he’ll stop short from torturing, killing, and maiming if they try to get in his way of being with Solana.

He can’t live without her.

He loves her too much to live without her.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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six-eyed-samurai · 4 months ago

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SUMMARY: For the life of him, Upper Moon Six cannot figure out why he can't bring himself to kill you. It kills him inside to even think about it. A/N: Had this in my drafts for god knows how long, it's finally out LMAO. WARNINGS: Fem reader, one dead man, couple of swears...and that's about it I think

Sometimes Gyutaro really wished Daki wasn’t so picky about who she ate.

It was a particularly low time recently. The District hadn’t received much new members and most of the people Daki had deemed beautiful enough to eat were gone, throwing a whole tantrum about how she’d rather starve than consume such hideousness. They argued, he threatened her, she screamed back, but in the end he relented and continued in his search to find a meal for them both.

He wasn’t picky and could’ve eaten any time he wanted, he grumbled to himself as he hunkered down on the balcony of one of the numerous rooms in the brothel, surveying the blinding lights of the District and spitting at the arrogant men and haughty women down below. But of course he had to just feel bad about being full while his sister went hungry so Gyutaro decided to stave off eating until she did.

If there weren’t any beautiful people, he hoped Daki would be fine with someone pretty. Or at least decently average. And what luck, he had found none.

Well, lies. Gyutaro wondered how Daki never noticed her before and prayed that she never would. Perhaps it was because she was such a quiet, obedient thing that spent most of her time serving the mistress so that probably explained it. Not beautiful enough to attract the attention of clients, but pretty enough to have gotten Upper Six’s interest.

He stalked her around for a few days to figure out the best time to strike and eat her at the beginning. Sometimes she’d accidentally catch on, see that shadow hunkering behind her, but he made sure to always stay out of her sight.

Gyutaro learnt a lot of things about her that way. She liked food that wasn’t too sweet and disliked a certain type of fish. She liked to go take a walk occasionally alone, far away from the brothel. Her favorite color, the jewelry on the other girls she’d eye, when she fell asleep.

She liked ugly things too. That scrawny, flea-bitten cat from the garbage. The gap-toothed, abandoned children of the streets who flocked to her and begged for breadcrumbs. She didn’t seem to mind the out-of-fashion, worn clothes handed to her by the other girls of the house.

He’d like to think she’d like Gyutaro too.

Of course he knew it was wrong. She was food, not someone he should be thinking about constantly, whether he be out hunting for other prey or remaining dormant within Daki. She’d run screaming in the other direction if she so much as caught a glimpse of him.

Gyutaro wasn’t even sure when he had started getting the weird symptoms from watching her. He had originally thought she must be a demon herself, using her Blood Art to make him think about her 24/7, 365, make his palms sweaty and have his heart rate accelerate around her, have the persistent urges to keep following her around for no reason except to just bask in that sunlight of hers.

Probably some time after she nearly came close to realizing he was there, Gyutaro concluded. She was out with the oiran as one of her attendants that night and out of habit he had shadowed them, ducking out of sight amongst the crowds and running into an abandoned alley after nearly getting caught. The stupid cat had suddenly rushed in as well, something in its jaws, and her hot on its heels.

She had slammed into him, both falling over. Gyutaro would’ve snarled and promptly killed the person if it had been anyone else, but seeing her surprised, flustered face bathed in yellow glow momentarily froze him. She was looking at him. She was hovering above him.

He waited for the screaming.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you alright?!”

Shock left him dumb, instinct caused him to grunt in reply and quickly turn away lest she caught a glimpse of how demonically ugly he was. The cat screeched from somewhere in the back but he could barely hear it over the rush in his ears as her sweet, sweet, gentle, soft hand grabbed his and helped him up, exclaiming apologies again and again.

Then he fell, probably, and could never not think about her again.

Gyutaro abruptly growled and fled in frustration at the weird, disgusting feelings welling up inside of him. Ugly, ugly, ugly, he hated himself, he hated her, he couldn’t stand the thought of killing her, he wanted her so badly not to see him like everyone did, like she did that night, just another person-

But hey, even demons could dream, right? Gyutaro was guilty for the deaths and injuries for hundreds of humans even when he was one himself, but the sin of fantasizing what it’d be like to even be shown an ounce of affection from her, have her for himself (what was it that humans did, hold hands? Each other? He watched her pet the cat; would she pet and play with his hair like that?) made him feel a thousand times guiltier.

A horrible feeling. Like somebody had stabbed him and was twisting the Nichirin blade around in his innards. Obviously this feeling could be fixed if he ate you, got rid of you, right? …even if he couldn’t fathom eating you himself, Daki could, right? God, never mind, he never felt so…what was this feeling at the thought? So for now he just hoped that no one would notice her. Not Daki, she’d become her next meal. Not a client, they were fouler than him.

How dare they dirty your presence anyway? Who cared if they were handsome, rich, well off, of excellent lineage and all that bullshit? The fact they even thought of touching your, harassing you, having you was enough for Gyutaro to lose his mind and go crazy on a killing spree of all those suitors. If he couldn’t have you, and he knew that, they couldn’t either, and they better know that.

Daki, however…she seemed to be picking up on something off about her older brother’s behavior - he had never ignored her complaints about their stash of food running low soon before, never brushed it off with a yell and assurances he’d find more victims and not do so. Confused and indignant was how she had felt and what caused her to spy a little on Gyutaro and eventually how he was just spending his time watching some stupid girl with something sparking in his gaze she wasn’t sure what to feel about. She settled on disliking and being suspicious of it, finally confronting him about it one night.

“Onii-chan, can you just kill her and be done with it already?! You’ve been following her for more than a week now, how long more do you need to kill her?!”

“Shut up! Be grateful I’m even hunting for you.”

Daki huffed and continued yelling about something to do with being too busy with Oiran duties but Gyutaro zoned out completely, glaring upwards. He should be killing her by now. Eating her. Digesting her.

Why am I not doing that? He silently demanded.

In truth he didn’t know either. Didn’t know why he so easily gave into the slightest stupidest excuse to stalk his prey some more. Didn’t know why he thought about killing the people around her more than her herself. Didn’t know why he was decapitating the head of a man who called her slurs the other day instead of her head.

“FINE, I’LL GO KILL HER TONIGHT!”

He slammed the doors for emphasis, muttering profanities he didn’t actually mean about his precious sister as he stalked around the house and to her room. Maybe if Gyutaro killed her he’d stop feeling so ill all the time. “Ill” being used loosely, since…oh God, he liked the feeling, didn’t he?

Gyutaro slammed a fist against the wall. He’d eat her and be done with it.

But when he got to her room he could see not one but two shadows moving about inside, hear murmuring voices and smell a foreign scent…a man’s, tainted by alcohol. Gyutaro couldn’t help it, he wound up eavesdropping in a jealous rage at whoever managed to get close to her.

“You’re a - hic - pretty girl, I’m sure you don’t wanna - hic - be stuck here anymore, ne?”

“Sir, please get out, I never invited you to my room and I’m not working right now-”

“So what? You gonna - hic - do something?” Gyutaro’s nails dug into the wood as he saw a silhouette of a hand grabbing at her arm and yanking her to him.

“I’ll call the mistress if you do anything!”

“Haha, if you can get her to - hic - listen to you, I’ll let you go! I’m already offering - hic - a lot of money for your marriage contract!” The man just about threw her to the door, roughly letting go of her arm as he laughed drunkenly. Gyutaro had barely any time to hide himself in the shadows before the doors were flung open and she raced away.

Marriage? With this pathetic excuse of a-

The next thing Gyutaro knew after awakening from the bloodthirsty, furious craze of very messily murdering the man - the bastard had dared taint such a goddess! Not even Gyutaro had dare done that, too terrified she’d run from the demon that he was and he wouldn’t even be able to catch sight of her anymore - was him standing above the corpse, one sickle buried in the mutilated head…

…while two yellow eyes slowly looked back to see her standing still by the doorway.

His hands curled into fists and he fell to his knees. It was over, wasn’t it? Gyutaro would really have to kill her now, after she’d inevitably shatter his black, rotted heart into a million pieces for slaughtering someone much worse than him. Daki would not be happy at being forced to kill the whole House because he was seen either.

She…fell to her knees as well? Smiling and crying?

“I knew it! I knew you were always there-”

“NEHHH?” Gyutaro reared back, stunned. “You’re supposed to scream! Am I not ugly to you?! Say something else, you stupid human! What do you mean you know?!”

“I knew you were there,” she repeated. “Someone was always following me…you were the one who killed all those…men and left those stolen items from the other oiran for me, weren’t you? I just wondered when you’d show up…I was so, so afraid when the mistress told me I was going to be married off…I prayed and prayed you’d save me again.”

“What? No, NO!” In a flash he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the wall, breathing erratically as his hand gripped his sickle tight enough to crush rocks. “I’m not - I’m not saving you! You’re not supposed to be like this! I’m a disgusting demon, you stupid dunce, I’m ugly-”

“I don’t think you are.”

Gyutaro searched her face frantically for any indication she was bullshitting him. This was everything he wanted and nothing he understood. His fingers tightened their hold. She had to be lying.

She wasn’t. Her lips curved up gently and a fang poked out. “I think you’re like me.”

#Sunny's works #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x you #gyutaro shabana x reader #gyutaro shabana x y/n #gyutaro shabana x you #gyutaro x fem reader #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n

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