#and also hope I would get some money from it too

[swoo-bats]

Tucker didn't think he'd ever be interacting with one of the Big Bosses. Glimpses of them in the lobby, hallways, other work areas, sure; that's how he got in on the open secret, after all. A few too many times of the Waynes showing up to work with injuries that didn't really coincide with the "skiing accident" or whatever they claimed it to be. But Tucker, familiar with Danny's tendencies to hide his own injuries, knows what to look for.

After getting a little suspicious, Tucker started paying more attention to the Bats. He religiously followed social media posts. Twitter was a hot bed for sightings and Tiktok was great for seeing clips of fights. And after a few weeks of paying close attention to social media and any local celebrity gossip as well as the short sightings at work, Tucker can definitively say that Bruce Wayne is Batman and Tim Drake-Wayne is Red Robin.

Though he had to put in the work, he figured that with observation of the more obvious injuries and work absences over a long period of time, any Wayne Enterprises employee would come to the same conclusion. He just sped up the process a bit in his unrelenting curiosity. It must be an open secret like Danny's identity in Amity Park; people are being polite by not talking about it.

He even confirmed his speculation with his coworkers. At lunch he had casually mentioned to Jamie, a fellow systems engineer, "With what the Waynes get up to, I'm surprised they're actually at work as often as they are."

To which she eagerly replied, "Right?! They're probably so tired all the time. If I did what they did, I'd be calling out super often." She tilted her head back and forth, considering. "Though I don't have the money for that."

Two other coworkers nearby also joined in, commenting on how the Waynes are so rich, it's not really a surprise what shenanigans they get up to. Tucker nodded along, excited now that his suspicions were basically confirmed.

So when he had heard two guys in the alley outside of his apartment talking about a big drug shipment (do people really think no one will hear them if they talk in echoey alleys?), he figured he could pass it on to the Bats. Just slip a post-it into a file that's getting sent up to their office, no problem.

Safe to say, Tucker was not expecting to be called up to talk with them. Did they want more information about the drug shipment? He already wrote down everything he knew! Or... oh no, he hopes that they don't think he's involved with those guys. He walks out of the elevator, hoping he looks like a normal employee and isn't giving off, like, criminal vibes or whatever. He knows he's not guilty of anything, that this is definitely one of those scenarios like "oh shit, what if I accidentally brought a gun to the airport?" where the anxiety obviously doesn't come from any rational place. But he is still excited to meet them for real. They're heroes! The only other hero Tucker has ever met is Danny and he doesn't really count.

He makes his way to the secretary at the desk in front of the office doors and says that he was asked to come up to talk. They confirm his name with his employee ID and let him through.

The first thing Tucker notices is that the office is way less cool than he thought it'd be. It's a little bland, honestly. He wasn't expecting, like, a Batman costume to just be displayed in the room, but typical office gray is what meets his eyes.

The second thing he notices is that Tim Drake-Wayne is the only other one in the room. Tucker guesses that makes sense, he heard Batman got a nasty hit over the head last night, so he's probably taking care of his concussion or head wound or whatever.

Tim gestures for him to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Tucker does. It isn't a comfortable chair.

"So Mr. Foley, I was wondering if you could explain why you passed on a note involving a drug deal to me."

"Well, sir, I figured this was the most direct way I had to pass on some information to the Bats. I don't know anything more than what I wrote on there, though."

Tim's expression turns confused. "Why would you think I have a method of communication with the Bats?"

Tucker's own face becomes confused. Are they still pretending they both don't know that the other knows? "Why wouldn't you?"

Tim blinks. "Although they may have... saved me... from kidnappings a couple of times," he says very reluctantly, "I definitely do not have direct contact with the Bats. I suggest you find another way to contact them." He finishes, pushing the note towards Tucker.

Mind running, Tucker picks up his note. Why keep denying it? Unless he thinks that Tucker's gonna tell someone? But it's already an open secret in the building, so why worry about that? Maybe he doesn't want any rogues going after WE employees and targeting them since they know the Bats' identities? But how would the rogues find out what the employees know? Everyone is pretending they don't know, since it's an open secret and everything...

Understanding dawns on Tucker's face. Plausible deniability! If Tim confirms his identity to Tucker, who knows who Tucker could tell. If the Waynes never outright confirm it then they can decry anyone who blabs as making it up. Tucker nods.

"Ah, I see, sir. I'll definitely make sure to pass it on correctly this time." Tucker puts the note in a pocket of his slacks. When he looks back up, Tim looks skeptical. "Anything else you need to discuss?"

"You didn't answer my earlier question. Why did you think I had a way to communicate with the Bats?"

Tucker runs a few answers through his mind and picks the least plausible one. "I've never seen you or Mr. Wayne in the same place as the Bats."

Tim's expression turns bewildered and Tucker holds back a laugh. This guy is a pretty good actor, though Tucker's answer was pretty funny too. Too bad "the butts match" isn't a joke he can make in a work setting.

"I'm sure you haven't seen most people together with the Bats though? Why us?" Tim questions.

For a moment Tucker wonders why Tim's dragging the explanation out, but he knows this building is full of security cameras and whatnot. One of Batman's enemies might be like Technus and be able to get to this footage.

'Wow, he's thorough,' he thinks.

Tucker shrugs, "Celebrities are more interesting to gossip and form theories around." He pauses and scrambles to add, "Not that I'm gossiping about you and Mr. Wayne or anything! I just mean in general, celebrities have to deal with more gossip because they're assumed to be more interesting than average people."

He watches Tim's face until it eases into something more neutral. Tucker really hopes he didn't just talk himself out of his job.

"Ah. I see. That's all then, you can go."

Tucker sighs in relief. "Thank you, sir." He stands and takes his leave. In the elevator back to his floor Tucker wonders if he should actually send the note again or if that's redundant since he knows they already got it.

Well, he may as well look for an alternate method of communication in case something like this happens again.

---

Tim watches Tucker Foley exit his office and his racing mind is full of questions about the man. He was definitely lying about the "same room" excuse, there's no way he would be working in system engineering if that was the extent of his logical reasoning ability. Tim wants to know what actually made him suspicious to Foley, why he thought that Tim could easily communicate with the Bats.

The preliminary research paints a picture of a man wanting to get out of his hometown and live in the big city. His hometown is a city itself, so he was probably looking for something new and exciting. And nothing screams exciting like Gotham.

The interesting part of this research is that Amity Park's main tourist attraction is their supposed haunted city and ghost hero. Who fights other ghosts. Tim rolls his eyes at the obvious gimmick. But more research proves the hero to be real, whether he's a ghost remains to be seen. Though it seems like the city's opinion was the complete opposite when the hero first appeared, lumping him in with the other "ghosts." That early information is hard to find, just sparse blog posts about "Phantom" and the occasional facebook post made by complaining residents. In fact, all of their digital newspapers only seem to go back a few years. If it was only a couple papers it wouldn't be weird, but all of them have nothing earlier than five years ago.

No wait, he needs to focus on Foley. Find out what he thinks he knows. And he can't have the other Bats look into him either because then Foley will know for sure that Tim is connected to them. So a trawl through his digital footprint it is, then.

He can't get through the security.

Tim is frustrated, at home on his own computer trying to access Foley's tech and nothing he's doing is working. If Foley did this himself then Tim is glad he's working for WE because he is having difficulties getting through the security. He scowls at the screen.

As Red Robin he's on par with Oracle with their tech knowledge. So there's no reason why he can't do this. He just needs to persevere.

Two hours later finds Tim angrily looking for more information on Amity Park. Is it secretly a tech haven? Could it rival Silicon Valley for their advancements in cybersecurity? He finds a few engineers located in the city but none of them are listed as cybersecurity or any related fields. One listing has him pausing when he sees "ecto-tech engineers" next to a name. The Fentons. What the hell is ecto-tech?

The Fentons' website is cringe-inducing, but he scans through their bright-colored pages and comes away not knowing whether or not this technology could be used to amp up someone's cybersecurity. Though it definitely could amp up someone's building security, given that you were trying to secure it from ghosts. Tim sighs.

Are these even real engineers? This has to be part of the city's ghost tourism attraction, right? But on the Fentons' About page, they do list degrees from the University of Wisconsin in... ectobiology? Tim wants to slam his head against his desk. What the hell is up with this city?

Tucker gets a job at Wayne Enterprises, and instantly clocks Bruce and Tim and Batman and Red Robin (and thus by extension figures out the rest of the family).

But since he figured it out so easily, he assumes it’s an open secret that everyone knows but keeps on the down-low for privacy and whatnot. After all, that’s what Danny’s identity had been like by the time they all graduated. Basically everyone in town knew unless the feds were asking. Because those white-suited government bastards can Fuck Right Off.

And thus, when he later finds an important potential lead on something, he doesn’t think much of just… handing it off to them to deal with. Yeah, he’s temporarily breaking the illusion, but it’s not that big of a deal.

Needless to say, Tim vehemently disagrees with that assessment, and is now deeply invested in finding out what the hell is up with his employee and his weirdly secretive hometown.

[suiana]

kind of orv inspired but imagine yandere! reader who has you as his favourite character

you know how people all have their fav characters and stuff? yeah, you're his. and he's a BIG fan. calls himself your #1 fan and WILL protect you to death. he's obsessed but hey, we've always liked our men obsessive and devoted, don't we?

he's literally worse than a toxic kpop fan 💀 oh someone says another character is cuter? well they're WRONG. someone says that THEY'RE your number one fan? yeah well he's doxxing them on 4chan🤷 there can only be one number one fan you know.

if anyone even mischaracterizes you, you can be sure that this man is typing out whole ass essays to defend your pride and image. no you wouldn't be a damn cheater or a player like who even came up with that💀

it's even worse if you're from a shitty fandom or something because the whole world would be against you and this guy would be bullied for even trying to do anything.

but he still protects you anyway because he'd never betray you like that #yournumber1fan #iloveyou

also somehow your entire universe becomes real :3

so obviously he's taking this chance to prove to you how much he absolutely adores you...

"erm... excuse me sir do you know where i-"

"OH MY GOD IT'S MY SHAYLA😍😍 no way no way no way is this real? im not dreaming right- SHIT i got to calm down... sorry, am i scaring you? it's just, ah, I'm like your biggest fan and I'm literally obsessed with you! i literally have ten fanpages just fo you and i still think-"

"oh! um..."

yeah, he doesn't know how to act normal around you. but it's... slightly endearing? i mean, you have a massive fan that knows a little bit too much about your personal life now but at least it isn't that bad... right?

wait until he brings you back to his home 😜

whole ass rooms dedicated to you, merchandise everywhere... you know those ita bags where people just have stuff FULL of their favourite characters? yeah, he has one of you because he's chill like that. and also, he has a pillow with your face on it???

"i swear i just really love you I'm not weird or something. this is totally normal and i have the money to do this so why not? I'm just really in love with you."

"haha... thank you? I'm flattered i suppose..."

"we should get married."

let's just hope you have powers or some sort of fighting ability because this guy will NEVER let go of you ever again.

[dreamersparacosm]

ahhh i read the entirety of under the checkered flag last night and got like 4 hours of sleep 💀 so so good! i’m curious can we get jungkook’s pov of what went on in his head when oc rejected the first kiss that led him to sleeping w that model bc i wanna knowww!

ok so i have had so many thoughts on this. not even kidding ive been shook by this request bc its so REAL. like yeah i also want to explain what this man was thinking… bc perhaps it may not make sense why he is the way he is. at the end of the day… he’s toxic internally and that is ALL he’s known before you, i mean, the guy has fucked so many girls before you. this is how i see it.™️ if you disagree… well, good luck charlie (I don’t write for the weak.) enjoy.

warnings ; talk of previous sexual activity!

prompt ; in which she isn’t you.

part of the under the checkered flag universe

He knows.

God, he’s known for as long as he’s been in your presence. It’s not your fault, nothing you can contain. He’s just known that you were never his to claim.

When he invited you to the afterparty, a tiny part of him, some subconscious section of his mind, hoped you would deny the invitation, so that he wouldn’t have to keep dreaming of you, dreaming of what your lips would feel like against his, dreaming of your touch against his warm skin.

He knows many things, but what he knows for certain is that he should not have brought you onto the balcony.

“You were really something out there today,” You speak softly, and his brain goes to mush, palms sweaty and hesitant with some sort of desire he can’t contain. Any form of a compliment from you causes his breath to hitch.

All he can respond with, after a gulp of saliva, “Yeah?”

You don’t dare look at him. He just stands there, inhaling your scent from a mere few inches away, trying to collect a part of you he can’t touch. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

And the thing about Jungkook is he’s received compliments in his lifetime. Too many to count. From fans, from reporters, from faceless voices who say his name like it belongs to them. They’ve called him beautiful, breathtaking, a living work of art. They’ve told him his voice drips with a smooth tone, like honey and sin, that his body was carved by gods who took their time. He’s learned to accept it, to let the words wash over him, to detach from them entirely.

But when it’s you? When it’s your voice, soft and careless, dropping a compliment like it means nothing?

It kills him. He feels devastatingly and utterly ill.

Because you’re his friend. That’s what you’ve always been. And that word friend feels dirty in his mouth now, like a lie, like a word someone else assigned to the two of you before he ever had a say in it. He barely even knows if it means anything anymore. Not when you look at him like that. Not when your voice wraps around a simple, thoughtless phrase like it’s just syllables in a nonsensical sentence.

There’s more words exchanged, things he doesn’t fully process because he’s so stuck on how beautiful your curves look in the dress Jisoo picked out for you, the dress he sent her money for and told her not to tell you.

He doesn’t really process anything until you say, “ Sometimes I think I like being alone so much because it’s the only time I don’t have to be anything for anyone else.”

It’s so inherently him, the things that you say sometimes. You’re a mirror image of him, some version of himself looking back, only better. Sharper where he is dull, softer where he is rough, a perfect contradiction that somehow fits him more than he fits himself. You say things he’s thought a thousand times but never dared to speak aloud. You see the world like he does, or maybe you see it clearer, untainted by the noise, the expectation, the weight of what people want him to be.

That’s how he knows he’s royally fucked.

He can’t be just friends with you, not when your voice slips into his thoughts so effortlessly, lodging itself in the quiet spaces between his ribs. Or, not when your words make his skin feel too tight, his body too aware, his heart too loud in his own chest.

Not when it feels like you’re crawling inside his head and making a home there.

His body moves before his brain does. He can barely breathe, every hum of oxygen being ripped from his lungs when he shifts to look at you, stare into your eyes that longingly look into his own, like you’re analyzing every part of his soul.

There’s a glimmer of hope behind his eyes, he knows it.

He feels it like a heartbeat in his throat, pulsing, thrumming, betraying him. He’s staring at your lips, watching, waiting, praying for a sign that you’ll kiss him back if he lets himself cross that final, irreversible line. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to do it.

He needs to close the space, to drown in you, to let his hands map the curve of your jaw and finally give in to the thing that’s been eating him alive from the inside out.

He reaches out, brushing the lightest touch against your wrist. It’s barely anything. Yet, there’s a slight hesitation from your body language.

You take a step back. Small, barely noticeable. It’s enough.

It’s enough to tell him he’s made a mistake, that he can’t cross this barrier, can’t shatter the fragile thing you both pretended was friendship, can’t be so foolish as to believe that this could survive the weight of his want.

You swallow, exhaling shakily. “We’re just friends.”

Three words, that when put together, shatter him completely.

God, he’s known this whole time.

Then, slowly, because it’s all he can muster, he smiles knowingly. “I know.”

He offers to go back inside, and you smile sweetly. There’s an awkward silence that takes its place between you two, and he immediately distances himself from you. From a few feet away, he watches you shuffle over to Jisoo, whisper something in her ear, and she walks with you towards what he assumes is the restroom.

The grave mistake he has made is so irreversible he wants to kick himself in the face.

He marches right up to the bar, asking for a whiskey on the rocks, something he hasn’t dared drink since he met you.

Realistically, you ruined it for him. Ruined everything. Whiskey used to be his escape, his sharp-edged comfort, the thing that burned just enough to remind him he was still alive. But then you happened, and suddenly, nothing tasted quite the same.

Tonight, however, he drinks. He drinks like he used to. He lets the dark liquor scrape down his throat, letting it seep into the cracks of his mind, letting it pull him back into old habits.

It’s easier to fall back into the emptiness, to slip into the hollow space where his ego and his loneliness curl up together like old friends. To let himself believe, just for a night, that the answer to whatever this ache inside him is doesn’t have your name on it.

He doesn’t want to be the man who can’t sleep without the ghost of your touch. Doesn’t want to be the man who looks for you in every crowded room, even when he knows you’re not there.

So, he downs another glass. Then… another.

At some point in the night, he stops caring about where you are. Stops caring if you got home safe, if you’re tucked into bed, if you’re even thinking about him at all.

He starts wanting something simple.

A mindless thing. He craves something that doesn’t look like you, doesn’t talk like you, doesn’t make him feel like his skin is too tight over his bones, like his heart is clawing its way out of his chest every time he breathes.

So when a model—one he’s had before, months ago, a lifetime ago—slides up next to him, trailing a perfectly manicured hand down his arm, he doesn’t even blink. He does not react when she leans in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, asking in that sultry, practiced voice, “Your place or mine?”

He should feel something. Excitement, relief, even just the slightest flicker of interest.

But he feels nothing, just a dull, gnawing ache in his chest, the kind that no amount of whiskey or soft skin or easy pleasure can fix.

Still, he nods… takes her hand. Prays to every god he doesn’t believe in that it works this time (Except nothing works. Nothing ever fucking works. Because no matter who he touches, no matter whose lips ghost over his skin; they are never you. And that is something he will never be able to drink away.)

So, the next time you see him, when you inevitably find out, when you stomp to his house, all rage and jealousy, everything he knows fades to dust.

Now, surely, undoubtedly, you are his to claim.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

The sengoku au is so cool! You are literally THE blue lock writer on tumblr.

If I could request something, could you write some short headcanons on how the reader would encounter the sengoku au boys?

Love your work! <3

awww ty!!! and WHAT ok you’re flattering me🤭 and yes ofc u can request❤️

meet and greet

ft; isagi yoichi itoshi rin

a/n: i made a fic on sengoku!karasu a few weeks ago, linked here! also, now that im rereading and editing, these aren’t entirely first encounters…i hope you don’t mind!

isagi yoichi

your parents weren’t wealthy. from your clothes to the food you ate, it didn’t need to be explained to four-year-old you that your parents were in desperate need of money.

you just never expected it to be in the form of shipping you to the emperor’s palace as a servant.

the day you turned fourteen, you were to be taken to the palace to serve there and become a potential lady-in-waiting. in the end, money was still more important than you. after all, they could just have another child.

wearing your best clothes, you took a stroll around the neighborhood, the one you had grown up in. but as you reached your home once more after your walk, an all too familiar voice called out to you.

“(y/n)?”

you spun around, isagi’s familiar indigo eyes meeting your vision. “yocchan?” he’s been your next door neighbor and best friend ever since you were three, and you had quite the crush on him.

before you could even realize it, tears began to leak from the corner of your eyes, sniffles beginning to escape your nose. “yocchan—god, i just—!” you wiped your tears away. why? and at such a random time too? isagi hurried towards you, cradling your face in his hands.

“what’s wrong?” he was the son of a merchant and would soon become one, and perhaps you would never see him again after today. you swallowed, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes.

“my parents…they’re taking me to become a servant at the palace.”

isagi’s eyes widened before they narrowed quickly, his hand falling from your face. “i…i see.” he whispered. “well, i do hope that you’ll be able to increase your ranking soon and live a long and happy life. you deserve it. but i just want you to know that i—“

before he could finish, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, exhaling shakily into his shoulder. “you don’t need to elaborate anymore. it’s okay, i get it.”

you left a few hours later, and for the next five years, you never saw isagi. at sixteen, you became the lady-in-waiting of a consort anri, and three years later, you still are. you should be grateful; your family was now rich and you were living a happy and fulfilling life with the potential to marry a loving nobleman.

but you were lonely, unbelievably so.

you missed isagi.

“hey, (y/n), have you heard of the newly appointed court official?” anri asked you one day as you brushed her hair. you raised an eyebrow, setting down the comb onto the mahogany table and kneeling next to her. “apparently he’s just a simple merchant, but he managed to expose the daimyo kira for scamming and assault. now he’s become a noble.”

you hummed. “well, i don’t particularly care for this stuff, but good for him, i guess. i never liked daimyo kira much anyways.”

anri glanced at you through the corner of her eye. “would you like to escort him to the emperor’s office? he is still just newly appointed and surely doesn’t know the locations of the offices here in the palace. and perhaps you could catch his eye and become his w—“

“please, anri, you know im perfectly fine with staying as your lady-in-waiting. but sure, i’ll go. is he outside of the palace right now?” you asked, standing up and walking to the shoji door.

“yep!”

you walked towards the front of the palace, humming to yourself. a few yards away from you was a standing figure, and as you got closer, indigo clouded your vision, and you came to a halt.

you stiffened, your jaw going slack.

“yocchan?”

itoshi rin

the bright, moonlit street of kyoto illuminated rin’s bloodstained katana gleamingly, his swift yet cautious steps charming in itself. his right hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his eyes darted around, watching for enemies.

suddenly, he heard a rustle behind him, and he turned, pointing the sharp katana to the figure’s neck. “who’s there?”

you stiffened, nearly jumping up and raising your hands. “hey, im innocent! i mean no harm.” you rapidly spoke, blinking a multitude of times.

rin’s eyes narrowed, slowly taking his blade away from your neck. “a lady like you should know better than to wander the streets of kyoto alone at such a time of the night. but you—“ his eyes widened a fraction. “aren’t you that one geisha from yoshiwara? the one everyone adores?”

you cringed. “and you must be itoshi rin, the notorious assassin. you’ve only ever visited us once and left without talking to any of our women. and if you can’t tell, im trying to escape.”

he raised an eyebrow. “you’re no pleasure woman, only a geisha. all you have to do is dance and smile. it’s not like you have to do any…activities with the visitors.” he was right; all geishas had to do was entertain, not have sex with the customers like pleasure girls.

“yes, but im sure that the owners of my brothel will soon force me to become a pleasure girl.” your lips pursed as you fiddled with your fingers. “they want the money.”

“well, a you problem is a you problem.” rin replied, turning on his heel. “whatever, i don’t visit pleasure houses much anyways.

“wait!” you exclaimed, gripping his shoulder. he raised the katana to your neck once more, eyes like ice.

“stop bothering me. i need to leave.”

“no, please! you’re a wandering assassin, right? im sure you can smuggle me out! please, i’ll do anything, i just don’t want to become a pleasure woman!” you latched onto him, almost screaming underneath the moonlight.

“shut up.”

“i’ll do anything! i’ll be your cook or your maid or your assistant or your manager or your wife or—!” finally, Rin shook you off.

“alright, just stop fucking latching onto me.” rin muttered, a blood vessel popping out of his neck. “from now on, you’re my property. do whatever i say.”

your ears perked up. “holy shit—! thank you so much!”

sorry this took so long! i needed to properly map out my tropes and AUs first…

[rosicheeks]

—

[readingiskeepingmegoing]

The gun is beginning now, this is such a good chapter

The possibilities of all the things that could go wrong were weighing heavily on me, so much so that I could feel that old craving for escape prickling under my skin. I was working double time to keep myself distracted from the urge to give in.

Sweet boy. It's such a struggle for him 🥺

I knew this version of her would probably haunt my dreams later.

Frankie played Tomb Raider, didn't he? 😉

She was looking at me through her lashes now with that smirk that was quickly becoming my weakness.

My competency kink was definitely being activated by this.

The fact that he acknowledges this is beautiful.

I gave her a toothy grin, feeling like a dopey dog that was just told he was a “good boy”. I needed to rein it in before I let my loneliness take over and cause me to lose focus.

You are a lost cause at this point Frankie.

Her cheeks flushed from anger over the fact she wasn’t getting the response out of me she had hoped for.

Im going to come out and say it, I don't like Maria. She's mean.

Benny snorted, “Well, maybe if he didn’t have an ass the size of a small country, he would fit.”

Now, now Benny, that is a damned fine ass!

Mya’s eyes drifted over to meet mine, now trying to read me. It was probably obvious to her that my hackles were raised. Everything about this guy screamed - threat.

And so it begins!

He nodded, then turned, shooting me a suggestive wink and smacking my shoulder as he made his way to the back. I sat frozen as I watched his retreating form. I really could have punched him in his pretty boy face for that.

Benny, Benny, Benny. You are doing good work, keep it up.

I be damned if she didn’t lean back into the seat, causing her chest to stick out further as she held her arms up out of the way. Her lips twitched upward, “You’re the expert, I’ll let you strap me down properly.”

I do like a lady who knows how to play the game 🤣

That action had some sort of primal feeling bubbling up inside of me that I didn’t really understand. “You really giving me an attitude right now?” She bit into her bottom lip as she relaxed back against the seat, “Yeah and you better get used to it.”

You are 100% fucked Morales. You are already wrapped around her little finger

I think it's 50/50 with Mya, she wants to test the boundaries, but she is also intrigued by and attracted to him

I do think Frankie will break first, but he's going to hold out as long as he can. I get the feeling that Veracruz will be the catalyst to get him to make a move.

Maria is a BITCH!

Mya will come up with a solution for them to get the money. She will overhear them making plans and will figure it all out.

I hope to hear more about Pope's voluptuous booty!

The Boys are going to give Frankie untold levels of shit about it. Benny and Pope will be the worst. But Will will get some shots in too.

Veracruz will continue to peacock to try to intimidate Frankie. I kind of want Frankie to gave to save Veracruz after he does something stupid while trying show off in front of Mya, so he gets humbled a bit.

Nerdy tech savvy Frankie is utterly delicious and I need more of him.

Buried Secrets Chapter 3: So It Begins

Buried Secrets Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Summary: After the harrowing events in South America, Frankie and the guys have returned home and opened their own private security business. They're eventually approached by an archeologist, named Mya, who is requesting their specialized services for an archeological expedition in the Amazonian jungle of southeastern Peru, hours away from where they stashed Lorea's money just over the border in the mountains of northern Chile.

Frankie is hesitant to accept the job, but with Pope's insistence this could be their cover to go back for the money, he relents. However, Frankie soon learns their new job assignment only further puts them and his new love interest in danger in an unexpected way as they set out to find the lost Incan city of Paititi.

Word Count: 8.5k

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, mentions of mental health struggles and past drug use (it's Frankie), there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, death). Frankie Morales comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Frankie's ex sucks, the struggles of addiction recovery (it's Frankie), crude guy humor

Chapter Quote: “You’re the expert, I’ll let you strap me down properly.”

Frankie’s POV It had been almost a week since stopping by the gallery to see Mya, but we had been in touch several times to discuss plans and time tables so that she could draw up the contract. We agreed that I would take a small team down early to do a little recon on the area she was planning to explore. She was actually the one to suggest it, relying on me to choose the best place for camp and to plan security protocols based on the geography of the area. 

Pope, Benny, Will, and I would be leaving in a matter of days to scout the area. We were also planning a small side mission of our own, hoping to secure Lorea’s money from the canyon we dropped it in nearly two years ago. The possibilities of all the things that could go wrong were weighing heavily on me, so much so that I could feel that old craving for escape prickling under my skin. I was working double time to keep myself distracted from the urge to give in. 

The sun was setting over the distant horizon by the time I arrived home from the office. After pulling into the gravel driveway, I sat there for a beat, staring at the small creek that ran through my backyard and the tree limbs blowing in the breeze. I could feel the numbness beginning to set in. The same numbness that always hit before a deployment. I suppose it was my way of compartmentalizing things, my life from the job. It was something I needed to do so that I could focus. It would also make it easier for me to tie up loose ends before I left for an extended time - completely taking my emotions out of the equation. 

When I finally got out of the truck, I made a beeline for the little shack that I called my garage, needing to keep my mind and hands busy until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. I was in the midst of trying to remove a stuck spark plug when the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the driveway caught my attention. I moved to stand in the doorway as I wiped my hands on a stained and tattered rag, finding Mya kicking her leg over an old black Harley Davidson. The sight probably should have shocked me, but for some reason it didn’t. If anything, something about it felt more natural than her classier persona.

I couldn’t help admiring her curvy figure in tight black jeans and fitted biker jacket as she removed her helmet and shook her hair free around her shoulders. She gave me a small smile as she unzipped the jacket, revealing a tight black t-shirt that showed the slightest hint of midriff and hugged her breast just right before she removed her aviators and hooked them into the collar of her top. The straps from the small leather backpack she wore only seemed to emphasize her chest further, causing her shoulders to retract and back to straighten. Her thick rubber soled boots crunched across the gravel as she approached, her smile widening as she looked me up and down. I knew this version of her would probably haunt my dreams later.

“Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by…I have your documents ready,” she called out. 

I huffed out a laugh, “It’s funny, I don’t remember telling you where I live…”

She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal that she knew. 

My brows pinched together, “You could at least act like you’re embarrassed about your creepy stalker ways, you know.”

She chuckled, “Why? What’s the point? I already told you I’d been watching you.” 

She had no shame, which was somehow even hotter than if she did. I sighed and shook my head as I fought a smile, “Fair point…well, please step into my home office while I clean up.” 

I moved aside, allowing her to enter the garage, watching as she appraised the old muscle car taking up most of the space. She walked around the front of it, raising an eyebrow in my direction. “70 Chevelle?” she asked. I nodded. Her lips tugged upward on one side, “Candy Pearl Apple is a nice color choice.” 

She continued to surprise me. I didn’t take her for a muscle car aficionado. Then again, she was a fan of old relics, so maybe I shouldn’t have been shocked by it. 

I nodded, “Yeah, it was my dad’s. I can’t take the credit for the color choice, but I do like it.” 

Her hand slid up the curve of the fender as she peered underneath the open hood, “She run?” 

I shrugged, “Depends on your definition of run…I’ve been trying to get her in working order. She spent years sitting with no attention, so she’s been a bit stubborn.” 

She was looking at me through her lashes now with that smirk that was quickly becoming my weakness. 

“You changing out the spark plugs?” she questioned as she motioned toward the pile that I had already removed. 

I sighed, “Yeah, trying to. That last one’s stuck. I’ve sprayed half a can of penetrating oil on it and let it sit for 24 hours. Still no luck…”

She walked over to stand in front of me, tilting her chin upward in her defiant way. “You got a heat gun and socket wrench?” 

I knew what she was about to suggest. It was my next step. I didn’t say anything though because I wanted to see where she took this. Instead, I pursed my lips and walked toward the workbench to get the items she asked for and held them up. 

She gave me a toothy smile as she moved to tie her hair up, her shirt riding upward to show more skin that I couldn’t help staring at. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she removed her small backpack and leather jacket. She then reached over to snatch the heat gun from my hand, clearly having noticed my wandering gaze. I smiled nervously before turning my attention to the motor. She followed, stretching her torso to lean across the dirty metal to inspect the offending spark plug, causing her shirt to ride up further than it had a moment ago. It took everything in me not to stare at all the newly exposed skin, especially with the hint of a tattoo peeking out along the side of her rib cage. Fuck. Can she get any hotter?

Mya turned on the heat gun, pointing it at her target. Her eyes cut toward me, “If you heat up the cylinder head it’ll cause the metal to expand…then the plug should easily pop out.”

After a few minutes, she held her hand out for the socket wrench. I passed it to her without question, watching her work in silence. I had to put extra effort into focusing on the task at hand, because if I didn’t, my mind was going to wander to some dirty places that involved fucking her on the hood of the vehicle in question. My competency kink was definitely being activated by this.

With several turns of the wrench, the spark plug came loose. She turned toward me, rolling the offending hunk of metal in her fingers with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You already knew how to do that, didn’t you.”

It was a statement, not a question. Busted.

I shrugged, “I did…but I wanted to see if you were actually gonna do it.”

She approached, seeming almost cocky as she came to a stop in front of me, “Frankie, Frankie. You have so much to learn about me. Whether I’ll do something isn’t the question you should be asking…”

I arched a brow as I crossed my arms over my chest, “Oh yeah? What should I be asking then?”

Her lips tugged upward on one side, “What I won’t do is a much shorter list…”

I couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that slipped out at her suggestive tone. Her eyes bore into me, so much so that I felt the need to divert my gaze.

She was testing me, and I was failing. The smirk that I both loved and hated was back on her lips as she held up the part she had just removed and offered it to me, “Here’s your plug. I guess this means you owe me one. I’ll have to think up something creative for my repayment…”

My brows arched as I reached out to take it from her, her fingers lingered against mine for a moment longer than they needed to. When I glanced up at her face, her eyes were focused on our hands, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as something sparked between us. I could feel the warmth from her skin spreading through my body, and for a brief moment, something told me she felt it too. She jerked her hand back, rolling her lips together before turning away. 

“Looks like I got a little dirty, mind if I wash up?” she asked. 

I shook my head as I watched her avoid my gaze, “Go for it.” 

She moved over to the utility sink, taking her time to scrub her hands and wrist clean. When she was finished, she tore a paper towel off from a nearby roll to dry her hands before turning toward me, seeming perfectly at ease in her new environment.  

“Well, now that problem is solved…” She reached for her backpack, digging through it before pulling out a thick envelope, “It’s time to get down to business. I have all of your documents ready to go, including the pickup information for our larger equipment that’s being shipped in.”

She paused, pulling out a map, then unfolding it to spread across the workbench. I walked over to stand next to her, feeling the heat of her body from head to toe. She leaned in closer as she moved to point out her plans as she spoke, “These are the centralized coordinates I’m looking at. If we can set up camp as close to here as possible, that would be ideal…but I know it’ll heavily depend on the terrain. So, I’ll need you guys to identify a spot. I plan to explore within a five mile radius of this area, so as time permits before we all get down there…I would like you in the air looking for anything out of the ordinary. It will at least give us a starting point if you see something worth checking out.” 

I nodded, taking mental notes of how all of this would fit into our plan to sneak off for Lorea’s money. 

She pulled back to peer up at me, “I plan to come down with a small team several days after you guys so I can put them to work clearing the area for camp and cutting paths as needed. There's an old vehicle trail several miles out, but it’s in a poor state. So, I’m not sure how close the vehicles will actually be to camp. Because of that, I wanna make sure we do have the choppers nearby in the event a quick exit is needed…so keep that in mind when finding us a spot to set up.” 

I smiled down at her, “I thought security and evac plans were my job…” 

She shrugged, “You can’t do your job efficiently if you don’t have all the information.” 

I chuckled, noting that her confidence was almost disarming. In all my years I couldn’t recall ever having met someone like her before. I knew that was part of her allure, stealthily sucking me in and awakening something inside me - a new craving that I didn’t understand and couldn’t describe if I tried. 

We stared at each other in silence for a beat too long before she turned toward her backpack and began to rummage around in it. I could already tell she was going to make me crazy, I just didn’t know if the weird tension I was feeling between us was real, or purposefully being done by her to throw me off and manipulate me for whatever game I was sure she was playing. 

She turned back toward me, waving something in her hand. “I got you a sat phone. I assume you know how to use these?”

I scoffed out a laugh and nodded, “Of course I do.” 

She smiled, “Good, less I have to explain…Anyway, hopefully it won’t be confiscated when you land. I’ve preprogrammed my number and a few others in, but I’ve also included a list of them in your paperwork too...just in case.”

I nodded along, taking the phone from her. 

“You got the choppers lined up? Everything good to go with your equipment?”

I cleared my throat, “Yeah, all is well. I ended up getting three choppers. Got a deal and thought it might be better since we’ll be doing aerial searches. I got a smaller one for that…it’ll use less fuel.” 

That wasn’t something I had discussed with her, so I was curious to see how she would take me acting without her approval. Her brow twitched upward before she nodded, “Ok, that wasn’t a bad idea actually…”

I gave her a toothy grin, feeling like a dopey dog that was just told he was a “good boy”. I needed to rein it in before I let my loneliness take over and cause me to lose focus. This was a job, and I was working for her. It wasn’t an ideal situation to start anything even if I was in the headspace for it. 

I sobered, then scratched at my beard, turning my attention back to the map laid out in front of me but not really seeing it. “Well, I’ll go through all of this tonight. I’ll text you if I have any questions.” 

I could feel her eyes on me, the energy between us shifting - dissipating as I closed myself off. She seemed to pick up on the change, stepping away to put her jacket back on and collecting her backpack. 

“Sounds good. I-I guess next time we see each other, we’ll be sweating our asses off in the middle of the Amazon.” 

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes as an uneasiness took over. “Yeah, can’t wait.” 

Her eyes were on me, analyzing for the briefest moment before she tilted her chin upward as a means of saying goodbye. Then, she disappeared out the door. 

I turned, leaning against the workbench with my arms crossed over my chest as I watched her through the window. After mounting the bike, she sat for a moment, staring toward the garage with a confused look before finally putting her helmet on. She shook her head from side to side as she started the bike, backing out of the driveway without a second glance in my direction. 

I sighed, realizing this job was getting more and more complicated with each passing day. It was obvious this woman was about to test me in ways I didn’t even know possible. 

The following morning, I awoke already dreading the day ahead. I needed to tell my ex, Maria, that I was leaving town for a job. Given her disdain for me, I knew this conversation wasn’t going to go well. I had to drag myself out of bed, rushing to get ready so I could pop in to see her at work while she was on her break. 

When I pulled into the parking lot of the bank, where she now worked as the branch manager, I could feel my anxiety ramping up. I really didn’t want to do this, but I needed her to know that my kid was important to me, regardless of what she thought. 

She spotted me as soon as I stepped inside, her purse already on her shoulder as she was on her way out to lunch. Her face tensed, lips setting into a tight line as she moved towards me. She walked past without a word, exiting to the parking lot. 

The minute we were alone, she whirled on me, “What the hell are you doing here? Showing up without a warning…” 

I expected this, holding my hands up in surrender before speaking. “I’m sorry, I just needed to let you know that I’m leaving town for a job…I’ll be gone for three months, but I’ll be back in time for our court date.”

She scoffed, “A job? Of course. Obviously not much has changed with you.” 

I shook my head, “No, this is a legitimate security detail for an archeological dig. It’s not what you think…” 

“Yeah, like I’m gonna believe that. I thought you weren’t doing field work anymore? That was obviously a lie, wasn’t it?” Her tone was clipped. Angry. She didn’t care what I had to say. 

“I’m making an exception for this one. It’s a major account…a lot of money for our security firm…”

“Yeah, last time you fed me this line of bullshit, Tom came back in a body bag.”

My jaw clenched as I took a steady breath. She was trying her hardest to bait me into an argument already. 

Her lips twisted into a smile, “You know what… why am I complaining? Maybe you’ll come back in the bag this time and I won’t have to deal with your shit anymore.” 

This was typical for her. She really had turned into a cruel person these last couple of years. 

I shook my head, attempting to ignore her latest verbal daggers. Instead, I focused on turning the conversation back to my reason for stopping by. 

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’ve transferred the next three months of child support to your account, plus a little extra. I wanted to see if you need anything else before I go and also give you a number to reach me if needed.” 

Her eyes narrowed, I could already tell she was about to spew more vile. 

“I don’t need your money, Frankie. Tony makes more than enough to take care of us.”

She said that, yet she didn’t have any problems spending it.

“Well, that’s great…really, but it’s not for you, it’s for my daughter. So, I don’t give a damn if YOU need it. Besides that, I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize getting my visitation rights restored. So, you’re gonna take the damn money whether you like it or not.”

She snorted out a laugh, “Why can’t you just be an absent father? Life would be so much easier if I didn’t have to deal with your bullshit. Actually…I’m not even gonna argue with you. If you make it back this time, I’m sure you’ll lose your shit again and I won’t even have to worry about it because you’ll ruin it all yourself.” 

I stood there, hands on my hips, staring at the pavement as I let her berate me. I didn’t even bother to fight back. Instead, I just nodded along, “Yeah, Ok. Well, I’ll make sure the money goes through before I leave. I’ll text you the number so you have it. If you call and I don’t answer, send a text because the signal may be spotty.” 

Her cheeks flushed from anger over the fact she wasn’t getting the response out of me she had hoped for. I was done letting her provoke me. It was proof I had changed, which probably pissed her off further, if she was even willing to acknowledge it. 

“I’ll let you get back to your lunch break. I’m sure Tony is waiting for you…” 

I didn’t even bother to tell her goodbye, instead turning without another word to head toward my truck. I wasted no time starting the engine and pulling out of the lot. I sat at the red light, counting backwards from ten before taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. 

It didn’t matter how much I tried to mentally prepare myself to deal with Maria, it was never enough. She always knew exactly what to say to make it hurt. On some level, I knew that I probably did deserve some of her hatred, but she didn’t have to be so cruel.” 

I could feel that familiar itch, that craving to dull the pain and slip off into oblivion so I could forget about my problems, if only for a short time. I let out a shaky breath, reaching for my phone to call Pope. 

He answered on the second ring, sounding breathless and frustrated, “I really hope your interruption of what will probably be my last fuck for the next three months has purpose?” 

I snorted out a laugh. That was exactly what I needed right now. His ridiculousness was always a good distraction. “You’ve got one hour to finish that up. Then I wanna get everyone together at my place to go over the plans one last time before we leave tomorrow.” 

He sighed, “Fine. Fine. Can’t promise I won’t feed your ass to a jungle croc over this though…now fuck off. You’re wasting my time.” 

I was chuckling as the line went dead. I shot off a quick text to Ben to let him and Will know while I waited in the drive thru at the nearest fast food joint, planning to gorge myself on a large chocolate shake and fries as a distraction and hopefully settle my cravings. 

We did need to go over things one last time, but I also really needed a diversion after this morning. It forced me to focus on the mission ahead and nothing else. We ended up working late into the evening, planning our time table and going over our packing lists. 

We were at Miami International Airport before the sun rose the next morning. After ten hours, we finally touched down in Lima, Peru for our three hour layover to Cusco. Thankfully the flight to Cusco was only an hour because we had to hit the ground running. There was no rest for the wicked after all. 

The plan was to stop in Cusco to first pick up our vehicles, then stop at a storage warehouse for our equipment that had been shipped via ocean freight. Once we had everything on board, we finished out the last leg of our journey, which was a nine hour drive to Puerto Maldonado - the southern gateway to the Amazon jungle. After a brief stay at a rented compound to catch up on some rest, we made our way to a private heliport where our choppers awaited us. 

Our first order of business was to check out the coordinates Mya had provided us with and find a place to set up camp so that I could report that information back to her. We had that out of the way fairly quickly, managing to find a small field near the coordinates. It would be just big enough to set the birds down. I surmised that we could set up camp around the outskirts under the tree canopy. As hot as it was, we definitely needed the shade.  

The proposed area wasn’t too far away from the river and there appeared to be some small waterfalls nearby as well. I figured the water sources might come in handy since we would be there for such an extended period of time. The old road Mya mentioned was about 3 miles out from the location. However, with my view from above, I wasn’t sure how drivable the road was. It definitely didn’t look good. That wasn’t my problem to figure out though. She had guys coming to clear paths for the vehicles, so I would let them worry about it. 

I had Pope make note of the coordinates and snap some aerial pictures to send over for Mya to share with her team so that they knew what to expect before they arrived. Once we had everything we needed, we headed back to the heliport to refuel. After calling Mya with the updates, we went off grid for our next adventure and hoped like hell that no one noticed us missing for the next forty-eight hours. As far as anyone was concerned, we were out doing recon on the area with a shitty signal. 

It was a fourteen and half hour flight to the coordinates where we stashed Lorea’s money. I also had to find a place to sit the chopper down while we worked to retrieve our prize. Given that we had no idea what state the bags of money or the gorge were in, we didn’t have a good estimation on how much time it would take to retrieve the cash, but we gave ourselves a five hour window to work with. 

Even with the auxiliary fuel tanks on board, we still needed to stop and refuel once on the way down and once on the way back. Pope had a contact who was helping with that to keep us off the grid. This contact was also responsible for getting Pope to St. John with our special cargo so that he could meet with the lawyer he had on retainer to set up the payouts from an LLC. If all went according to plan, he would be back with us before we met up with Mya and her team in Puerto Maldonado at the end of the week. 

The plan seemed straightforward and fairly risk free. We looked at it from all angles and felt like we had planned for every contingency - or so we thought. Everything was going smoothly, we had a top of the line asset to get us to the location, the weather couldn't have been more perfect, and we were all in good spirits. 

After finding a nearby place to land at the top of the mountain, we made our way down to the gorge where the money had been stashed nearly two years ago. Our excitement soon faded once we laid eyes on the area. Several large boulders had dislodged and fallen into the crevice, wedging between the walls and leaving only small openings to the floor below. We could just make out the shadow of the bags through the beams of light shining through the cracks. 

Pope sank to his knees in defeat as he surveyed the area. “There has to be some higher power working against us,” he said with an exasperated sigh. 

Benny brushed it off, “Naa, come on. There has to be some way around this. Maybe one of us can fit through one of those holes.” 

I rubbed at the back of my neck, not having a lot of confidence in that idea as Will and I exchanged a worried glance. We moved, exploring the area to find an opening big enough that would allow one of us to slip through to retrieve the money hidden several hundred feet below. We spent about thirty minutes searching until Benny called out suddenly, excitement on his face as he insisted that he found a spot. We made our way over to have a look, hope blooming in my chest at the possibility. 

We all stood around the opening staring at it. Will and I grimaced as Pope kneeled down for a better look. 

“What ya think, Pope? Can you fit through that?” Benny asked. 

Pope shrugged, “I dunno, maybe. It’s worth a shot. It’s the biggest opening I see. Let’s…uhh…yeah, let’s try it. Get out the harness and rope.” 

We worked to get Pope rigged up and lowered him down about 10 feet to the opening. After several failed tries, anger got the best of him as he slung a handheld flashlight against the rock wall. He began muttering out a string of expletives in Spanish as he kicked at the boulder blocking his path. It didn’t budge of course. I huffed in frustration. This wasn’t how I saw this trip going. 

Benny snorted, “Well, maybe if he didn’t have an ass the size of a small country, he would fit.” 

“Fuck you, Benny,” Pope called out from below us. “Lemme see your giant hulking body make it this far in you fucking troll.” 

Pope’s words rolled off Benny as he chuckled at our friend. 

“Fish, you think you can fit?” Pope called out to ask.

I leaned over the edge of the cliff, peering down at him and shaking my head. “If you’re not fitting through, I’m definitely not.” 

“Yeah, big dick Morales ain’t fitting through that,” Benny said through laughter. 

I gave him an admonishing look, “First of all, what the actual fuck? Second, stop being an asshole. I know that’s how you cope with stressful situations but it ain’t helping.” 

I heard Will snort out a laugh behind me for calling out his brother. 

I sighed, “Alright, let’s pull him up. This obviously isn’t working.”

Once Pope was topside, we stood staring at each other. Frustration was clear on everyone’s face. 

“We got any explosives?” Benny asked.

Will shook his head, “That’s too risky. Obviously, we don’t wanna chance all these large rocks falling on top of the money.”

“What if we chisel out the side of the boulder to make the opening bigger?” Pope asked.

Will gave me a questioning look as I grimaced, “I don’t know about that. We don’t fully have eyes on how that thing is being held up. One wrong chip and it could fall down.” 

“This is such fucking bullshit…” Pope shouted as he slung the harness he had just removed to the ground. 

Benny looked at Pope, “Yeah…too bad your girlfriend and her brother disappeared. I’d bet one of them could fit through that hole.” 

“I wish you would shut the fuck up about her,” Pope seethed. 

Will stepped between them, “Guys, chill the fuck out. Stop bickering like an old married couple. It’s not solving anything.” 

I looked at my watch, we were short on time and we still had to hike back to the chopper. 

“We’re running out of time…no more dicking around. We need to figure this out now or go,” I stated matter-of-factly.

Will shook his head, “I’ve got nothing.” 

I looked to Pope and Benny, they both shook their heads along with Will. 

I huffed out a quiet, “Fuck.” 

We spent some more time checking the area for a larger opening before finally giving up. We hiked back to the chopper in silence. I couldn’t help thinking this was our penance for all of the chaos and pain that resulted from the last time we attempted to get this money. The money was cursed, never meant to be ours and destined to rot away in the Andes Mountains.  

We were halfway to our refueling point when Pope finally spoke, “We’ve got three months down here. Surely, we can get something figured out before we have to go back.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, maybe.” 

The rest of our trip was quiet as we all stewed in our thoughts. By the time we landed in Puerto Maldonado, I was ready to switch gears and put that disaster out of my mind before I drove myself crazy. 

I called Mya that evening to check in, lying my ass off by saying I hadn’t found any areas of interest yet when the truth was we hadn’t been out to look. I wasn’t too worried though, I still had two days to check things out. I wasn’t completely convinced I would find anything anyway. The forest canopy was too thick, making it seem like a wasted effort. She didn’t seem upset or shocked by my response, only replying that she was bringing in some equipment that might help solve that issue. 

Before hanging up with Mya, I confirmed her arrival time, which was Friday - two days away. The thought of it caused butterflies to form in my stomach. We were about to be in each other’s vicinity for the next three months in the middle of the fucking Amazon jungle. It was making me feel on edge and anxious. I knew that I would really have to put in the effort to keep things professional. I also needed to make sure the rest of the team did as well.

Early Friday morning, we gathered at the heliport, going over checklists and making sure we had the first wave of needed supplies that Mya requested be flown to the campsite along with our equipment. We had just finished up and were preparing to load everything when Mya and her small team arrived. They were soon followed by five of my team members, including one of the other pilots, who had flown in early to begin their security detail for the small group. We took advantage of the extra muscle and put them to work loading the choppers while Mya and I touched base. 

As I listened to Mya make small talk about their trip down, I couldn’t help noticing her more laid back appearance. Her silky dark hair was up in a messy pile on top of her head. Bits of stray strands stuck to the moisture beading on her neck and forehead from the heat. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and I realized that I liked her better without it. The fitted tank top that she was wearing showed just a hint of cleavage, which was only emphasized by the sweat sliding between her breasts. For the first time since we arrived, I wasn’t mad about the high temperatures because of the way it was making her skin glisten in the sun. Her dark fitted cargo pants tucked into her lace up boots further emphasized the curve of her hips and ass in a way that was completely distracting as she walked a few steps in front of me toward the bundles of cargo to be loaded. Everything about her was drawing me in and making my mind go fuzzy. 

Her presence quickly became overwhelming, causing me to tune out her words. I snapped back to focus when I noticed the scowling man with greased back hair lurking nearby - the same guy that had interrupted our meeting at the gallery. Mya noticed me eyeing him as I listened to her plans, causing her to pause, her lips curling upward as she waved him over to us. 

“Mr. Morales, this is Comandante Veracruz. He’s here as a representative for one of our benefactors supporting the expedition.”

My eyebrow arched at the mention of a benefactor, but I didn’t say anything. The look she gave almost begged me not to. 

I smiled, shaking the Comandante’s hand, squeezing a little harder than really necessary. He seemed to do the same as he gave me a smarmy smile. 

“Veracruz, this is Frankie Morales. He’ll be in charge of safety and security. He’s also the pilot who’ll be helping me with the aerial searches.” 

I released his hand, allowing him to move it to rest on the small of Mya’s back as his eyes scanned over me. His thick Spanish accent and low voice sounded almost threatening when he finally spoke, “Well, it sounds like we will all be spending a lot of time together. Mya and I look forward to working with you.” 

My gaze flicked to Mya just in time to catch her eye roll. It didn’t escape my notice (or Mya’s apparently) the way he talked about her, as if they were a unit. His body language was almost possessive, claiming her as his. Mya’s eyes drifted over to meet mine, now trying to read me. It was probably obvious to her that my hackles were raised. Everything about this guy screamed - threat. 

I gave Veracruz a tight smile as my gaze moved back to him, “Yeah, I can’t wait to get started. I think it’s definitely gonna be an adventure.” 

Adventure definitely wasn’t the word I wanted to use. I could tell this guy was going to be a pain in my ass. I was already hoping he would fall in the river and get eaten by a croc or some other jungle predator. 

Mya asked if she could hitch a ride with us to the campsite on the chopper rather than riding in the vehicles and hiking in. I obliged of course, not realizing that meant Veracruz was a package deal. I was half tempted to tell him I couldn’t take both and stick him on the other bird, but I refrained. 

Once all of the cargo was loaded, I boarded to begin my preflight ritual. I could hear the guys moving around in the back as they got settled in. Just as I was about to put my headset on, Benny appeared in the cockpit with a toothy grin on his face and holding his arm out as if presenting the open seat next to me. 

“Given that the boss lady is ridin’ with us, I think she gets shotgun, don’t you Catfish?” 

He leaned back, allowing Mya to squeeze past him so she could sit down. She smirked up at him, “Thanks, Benny.” 

He nodded, then turned, shooting me a suggestive wink and smacking my shoulder as he made his way to the back. I sat frozen as I watched his retreating form. I really could have punched him in his pretty boy face for that. My attention turned to Mya, watching as she strapped herself in. She didn’t seem to have any issue figuring out the harness, but she left it too loose. 

I nodded toward the buckles, “That’s not secure. You need to tighten it up or else you’ll slip out if we crash.”

I be damned if she didn’t lean back into the seat, causing her chest to stick out further as she held her arms up out of the way. Her lips twitched upward, “You’re the expert, I’ll let you strap me down properly.”

I turned forward, staring out the window for a beat and puffing air out of my cheeks before looking down to unbuckle my harness. I stood, leaning over to tighten her straps. I could feel heat rising up my neck as my fingers grazed over parts of her midsection and chest. I could feel her eyes on me as I worked. When I dared to glance up, I found her staring at my face without blinking. Our eyes locked as I pulled the last strap tighter than it really needed to be. I grabbed the harness with both hands just above her chest, giving it a strong tug to make sure it was buckled securely. Her eyebrow twitched upward just as I felt my jaw tighten. Without a word, I returned to my seat and buckled back in. 

Behind me, I could hear the guys laughing about something. I was silently cursing myself knowing they had probably been watching that entire interaction go down. I could already tell, they were not going to make this easy for me. 

Once we were in the air, I stayed focused on the controls. I could feel Mya’s eyes on me off and on - more than that, I could just feel her. It was like there was a weird energy humming between us the whole way. I felt a sense of relief when the clearing where we were touching down came into view, but it was only temporary. We wouldn’t be stuck together in an enclosed space for the rest of the day, but I would still be with her - near her. We would be sleeping feet from each other and having meals together. Beyond that, we would be roaming the Amazon jungle, working closely so that I could keep her safe. I sighed, realizing that I needed to focus and get my shit together. 

After landing, some of Mya’s team that rode in the other chopper immediately got to work, clearing space and setting up tents and whatever else they had brought along while my team worked on getting the security measures in place. Mya and I were dancing around each other as we handed out orders and worked with our respective groups to get things set up. Though I was busy, I was aware of where she was at all times. I refused to let her out of my sight, at least until I felt better about the security around camp. 

Everything was in place by nightfall. We were running through our final equipment checks when Mya approached the small tent with all our surveillance equipment setup inside. She stood by silently, listening to me on the radio with my team as we tested the motion sensing cameras that were strategically placed around the perimeter of camp. Just as I finished up, Veracruz joined us, making his presence known as he leaned in to look at the monitors in front of me along with all the equipment laid out on the folding tables. I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with him. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked him in a clipped tone as he picked up a spare motion sensor and began to fiddle with it. 

I could see Mya in my periphery, fighting a smile as she turned her head, suddenly becoming interested in something on one of the monitors. 

“Are you really relying on a bunch of technology for security in the middle of the jungle?” he asked with a judgmental tone. 

I snorted out a laugh, “No. I’m not. I’ve got guys on watch 24 hours a day…walking the perimeter with weapons and on comms. They’ve got night vision too.” 

Veracruz nodded, then pointed at the monitors. “How are you running all of this?”

I tried to bite back my condescending laugh. This guy clearly lacked common sense. “Satellites, blue tooth, solar panels…and auxiliary batteries and generators when needed. We’ve got high def cameras with night vision and infrared sensors surrounding the area in addition to all of the hidden motion sensors too. It’s gonna be hard for any person or animal to get through without us knowing.”

Veracruz turned, pausing to stare at the monitors as they cycled through all the camera feeds. That bothered me for some reason. I moved to stand in front of him, blocking his view as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Any more questions I can answer or does that cover it?” 

He gave me a tight lipped smile, “I think that covers it.” He moved to leave, pausing to look over at Mya, “You coming?” 

She shook her head, “No, actually. I need to talk to Mr. Morales about our plans for tomorrow.” 

I could tell he didn’t want to leave her with me as he stood silently for a moment, evaluating his options. He finally nodded, then stalked away toward his tent. 

Mya let out a quiet sigh as she watched his retreating form. I wanted to ask her what the deal was with him. Were they together? I didn’t really understand their dynamic. All I knew was I didn’t like the guy or trust him. I figured she wouldn’t tell me the truth if I asked anyway.

I leaned back against the table, meeting Mya’s gaze. “So, how are you feeling about everything now that we’re here?” 

I watched as she reached for a folding chair and plopped down into it, raking her hands down her face as she puffed air out of her cheeks. 

“It’s…overwhelming and I’m already fucking exhausted.”

I huffed out a laugh, “I can’t argue with that. At least you don’t have to share a tent with three dudes. I’m already banking on not getting any sleep for the next three months.” 

She chuckled, “Yeah, you’ve probably got it worse than me.” 

Her eyes drifted to the monitor behind me. She nodded toward it with a smirk, “So, you have a camera pointed at my tent?”

I pursed my lips, turning to look at the monitor. I feigned ignorance and shrugged knowing I had placed that one myself. I wanted eyes on her at all times. “We have cameras on several of the tents. Our tent is in the frame too.” 

She was giving me a look that said she thought I was full of shit, but I ignored it and changed the subject. “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow? Are we taking the bird up?”

She nodded, “I’d like to. I know you said the canopy is too thick to see through, so I think before we go up…we need to install some equipment. I got us a LiDAR pod. It’ll give us 3D images of the forest floor...”

I snorted out a laugh, “I know what LiDAR is.” 

She shrugged, “I don’t wanna make any assumptions about your knowledge on laser imaging technology.” 

I laughed, “I’m sorry, I should appreciate how thorough you are with everything. It has made things easier on my end…”

Her lips curled upward as she peered up at me through her lashes, “I aim to please.”  

Fucking hell. Is she doing this shit on purpose? I had to look away. “So… what time would you like to get started?”

She sighed, “As early as possible, I guess. I have a feeling we won’t be able to sleep in even if we wanted to…between the heat and sounds of the jungle…so probably as soon as the sun rises.”

I nodded in agreement, “I assume you know where the LiDAR pod is?”

It was her turn to nod, “Yeah, it’s in the supplies tent…to the right, in a crate. I can help you with it in the morning.” 

I huffed out a laugh, “I can handle it.”

She rolled her eyes and held up her hands, “Fine. Whatever.” 

That action had some sort of primal feeling bubbling up inside of me that I didn’t really understand. “You really giving me an attitude right now?” 

She bit into her bottom lip as she relaxed back against the seat, “Yeah and you better get used to it.” 

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as my eyes focused on her mouth. I wasn’t sure if I was aroused or annoyed. Maybe both? I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my eyes narrowed on hers. She stood from the chair with the hint of a smile playing on her lips as she approached me, “And with that, I’ll leave you.”

Her hand came up to rest on my shoulder as she leaned in closer. I couldn’t look at her, instead choosing to stare at a pile of waterproof equipment cases stacked in the corner as she spoke in a low voice, “Don’t stay up too late. You and I have got a looong day tomorrow. Goodnight, Frankie.” 

I gave her a small nod of acknowledgement, before she sauntered off toward her tent. I turned, watching her retreating form as I puffed air out of my cheeks. I really couldn’t figure this woman out. 

I grabbed the chair Mya had just vacated, pulling it over in front of the monitors to sit down. The monitor in front of me cycled through to the camera facing her tent. My fingers moved of their own volition to zoom in. My eyes were drawn to the opening. She had zipped the netting closed, but not the cover. I could see her moving around inside, pacing as she flipped through what looked like the worn leather journal I had seen in her office. She chewed on her thumb nail as she scanned the pages, eventually closing it and sighing heavily before tossing it onto a nearby table. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head revealing her black bra straps hugging her back as she moved through the curtain that divided her tent into another section.  

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and switched to another camera view of the jungle. I shouldn’t be watching her like that. It was wrong and was one hundred percent egging on the hungry animal inside of me that was begging to be let out. I was so fucked. 

About an hour later, one of my team members came to relieve me of my duties in our little security headquarters so I could get some rest. Our tent sat next to Mya’s. I couldn’t help staring toward it as I walked, noting that it was now completely dark. I sighed to myself as I stepped into our home away from home. 

Our living quarters were not that bad. We had lived in worse conditions when we were in the military. The tent as a whole was completely enclosed, with a tarp-like bottom that was attached to the walls so no animals or insects could get inside. It was fairly sizable with one large room where we had cots lined down the sides of it. We had a folding table and some chairs in the far corner and a few smaller folding tables we used as night stands. We had made it as homey as we could. There was a separate smaller room that we used to store our personal items, equipment, and weapons. We also used it for privacy when needed. 

I found the guys already passed out in their cots. Benny and Will were both snoring loudly. Pope was lying on his stomach with a pillow over his head. I rolled my eyes at the sight, not even bothering to be quiet as I moved around to prepare for bed. 

I lay in my cot, listening to the sounds of the jungle outside. As our little camp compound grew quiet, the animals grew louder. Loud enough, it almost blocked out the sound of the snores beside me. I tried to focus on the sounds of the frogs and insects and allow them to lull me to sleep, but my mind kept wandering to thoughts of Mya. I wondered if the jungle sounds would keep her awake or if she was sleeping through it. I thought about the way she had looked at me today. I thought of how soft the skin of her back looked when she pulled her shirt over her head. 

I could already feel myself getting hard with the path my thoughts were taking. After letting out a measured breath, I turned to my side. The firmness of the cot and the way it curved upward quickly took my mind off Mya as my shoulder began to ache from the odd angle. I huffed and turned onto my back again. At that point, I somehow managed to shut my mind off and drift to sleep with the sounds of the Amazon rainforest playing in the background, now completely drowning out my snoring roommates.

Chapter 4: X Never Marks the Spot

A/N: Happy Monday, my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed the latest installment. Things are really going to start picking up next chapter now that the gang is all together. Mya is pretty stuck in her defiant ways and it absolutely drives Frankie insane as they set out to explore some interesting readings on the LiDAR scans. Veracruz will be Veracruzing hard. There will also be lots of complaining and jokes from the guys too.

As for this chapter's discussion...

Mya is really laying it on thick with Frankie. How much of her behavior is just fucking with him and how much of it is wanting to fuck him do we think?

Frankie is obviously attracted to her, but he's fighting it. Do we think he will break first? Or will she?

How we feeling about Frankie's ex?

The guys have run into a bit of a problem with getting that money. How do you think they will solve it? If only Pope didn't have an ass the size of a small country...😂

How much hell you think the guys are going to give Frankie over Mya? Benny has clearly already started.😏

Veracruz is already staking his claim. How do you think things are going to play out with him and Frankie?

And just an honorable mention, something about nerdy tech savvy Frankie is kind of hot, right?

Lastly, I felt it important to emphasize how loud the jungle is at night. Especially when everyone has their tents so close together...just keep that in mind for later.😆

Until next time, 💜Mysty

Group 1 Tag List:

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[atopvisenyashill]

do love how this is an asoiaf blog but i did not put either show in my top 10 this is the world we live in

[regular-lord-reckoner]

so i took my car in today because i thought it might just need some more brake fluid and although i tried to just look at it myself i couldn't for the life of me figure out which part under the hood was the brake fluid reservoir without having to lean all over my car and get all dirty, so i figured i might just have to pay a service fee and whatever for the fluid itself...

turns out i need all new brake pads !!

ahaha

haha

ha

yay

[musubiki]

how was playing hsr? was there anything that you liked in the game and the story?

ITS BEEN AMAZING AS EXPECTED!!!!!!!!! i actually havent played genshin in a while since starting it, i have no motivation to do the filler event while a perfectly good star rail is sitting there waiting to be played :')

but for mechanics, i love they have auto battle so you dont have to nessecarily sit there and invest in every little battle you gotta do....and i love that the resin (resin??) system is a lot more forgiving with a higher cap, lower cost, and allow for overflow...thats nice...i also love that the mc and starter units are very useful. im so emotionally attatched to the star rail crew so im glad they never have to leave my team !!!!

storywise im LOVING IT SO FAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i started playing it at the beginning of spring break 2 weeks ago and im almost all caught up!!! i went through belabog and penacony and now im just doing those leftover intermission main quests which im only now realizing i shouldve done before going to penacony LMAO

and of course.....danmarch....im so soft for them......and also i love sampo i cant wait to see what they do with him

[hauntingblue]

Jaya time

I love these moments of nearly cosmic horror when they encounter inexplicable things (at first) they are so intriguing

Is strawhat here?! *Megan thee stallion saying AAH 😜*

This cover just goes hard... Get it chopper

[jheselbraum]

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it���s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

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[eyepatchdate]

left mick and ralphs to enter a black screen...done with fnv today

[thirsty-4-ghouls]

No one has been more convincing about encouraging me to play fallout new Vegas than the queer people in my phone. Literally every straight man I know in real life could not be half as convincing as the autistic queer people on this website

[bookishdiplodocus]

How to plant information elegantly

Say, for example, you’re writing a swimming pool scene and you need to plant the fact that Susan is blonde, because in a few chapters, the detective will find a blond hair at the crime scene.

You want the planted information to be memorable, but at the same time not stand out too much. The ideal is to push the information into the reader’s subconscious without a neon light arrow saying, “You might want to remember this, dear reader. This will be relevant!” The planted information needs to feel natural, organic, but memorable enough so when it turns out to be ✨a clue✨, your reader thinks, “I should have seen it!”

Let’s look at some options.

Susan, who is blonde, took a deep breath and dived into the pool.

This feels forced and awkward. The two pieces of information (pool + blonde) are not connected, the fact that she is blonde feels irrelevant and shoved in. If the reader remembers this, it’s because they noticed how the information is forced upon them.

Elegant ⭐

Memorable ⭐⭐

Organic ⭐

The blonde Susan swam across the pool. / The blonde, Susan, swam across the pool.

This feels more natural, but there’s a danger that only the swimming will stick into the reader’s mind because her being blonde is so unnoticeable. There is also a minor danger that the reader will expect an non-blonde Susan to show up in the first variation.

Elegant ⭐⭐

Memorable ⭐

Organic ⭐⭐

Susan was annoyed. She had just washed her hair with that ridiculously expensive Luscious Blonde shampoo and now her friends wanted to go swimming? What a waste of money.

This feels natural and organic, because both elements are conveyed from Susan’s point of view. They are both relevant and connected, and on top of that you get to build Susan’s character.

Elegant ⭐⭐⭐

Memorable ⭐⭐⭐

Organic ⭐⭐⭐

Her friends were already in the pool, but Susan held up her pocket mirror, making absolutely sure that the latex cap wouldn’t let any water in. She just had her hair bleached and after the debacle of 2019, she would never forget what chlorinated water did to bleached hair.

Susan’s POV makes her blond hair relevant to the swimming, as with the example above, but this time you’re presenting a completely different character. It feels organic and personal, and the fact that she is blonde will be lodged into the reader’s mind without screaming “It’s a clue!”.

Elegant ⭐⭐⭐

Memorable ⭐⭐⭐

Organic ⭐⭐⭐

I hope this is helpful! Follow me for more writing tips or browse my entire collection of writing advice now.

Happy writing!

[graciedollie]

Can you do all the major milfs x reader and like we getting pass around like a drink. ☺️😵‍💫

Taker

pair: arcane!milfs x reader

summary: it was your usual day like any other in the brothel, dealing with usual customers and having to deal with their requests, though, that would change when you saw four new faces..

warnings: 18+ content, reader is a prostitute, strap-on usage, fingering, overstimulation, BRIEF shimmer usage (NOT A LOT I PROMISE), reader literally gets passed around…, rough (wo)manhandling, praise, degradation, and probably more.

a/n: hope you enjoy and this lowkey may be long!!! also I recommend listening to Life Of The Party By The Weeknd for this (obsessed with this damn song).

I'm so far gone and you are too

Show me how you go downtown

With the drugs in your body

Take that step, you're the life of the party

Know that step, you're the life of the party

It was a busy day at the brothel. Women and men, who worked there, were bustling with customers left and right—one lea, just for another to enter. It was busy, that’s for sure. With you, you had the same old customers, sometimes new faces appeared before you—other than that, it was just the usuals. It made money, yeah, but it was boring as shit sometimes.

That was until you saw four new faces.

Ambessa Medarda, fearless warlord, known for her power and resilience. Cassandra Kirammin, Piltover’s beloved council member, known to be quite the charming and strong woman. Sheriff Grayson, one of Piltover’s best sheriffs, very known down in Zaun and Sevika, pretty well known down here as well, known to be quiet ‘the scary lady’, but also holds a good loyal to her.

It was an odd arrangement, but you didn’t really complain since you knew that it would be good money—especially if they were from Topside. Though, it did make you wonder why they would all come to you out of everyone else, maybe because you just so happened to catch their eye? Who knew?

You tried not to think much of as you got yourself ready in your little booth. Putting on your mask and applying some lipstick that matched your baby blue lingerie set—leaving nearly nothing to be hidden. Eyeing yourself a couple times and spraying some perfume on before taking a quick breath of shimmer—amping you up a little, you finally made your way to the room where you found the four woman, looking over at you with a darkened gaze as you stepped in.

“So this is the one you’ve suggested, I suppose?” Cassandra would murmured lowly as she gaze you up-and-down look, taking in your stature—feeling quite pleased with the mere sight before her. “Mhm, quite the sight, yeah?” Sevika quipped back with a proud smirk, taking a puff of her cigarillo before stumping it out on the ashtray besides her.

Grayson and Ambessa just silently observed you with a predatory gaze, thinking of all the things that’ll go down this very night. A smirk crept along Ambessa’s lip as she stood up, stalking over to you with slow, heavy footsteps of her boot till she stood in front of you; grasping your chin firmly. “I take it you can handle all of us, child?“ God you nearly felt your knees buck as her peering eyes met yours, looking down at you with a sultry gaze.

You cleared your throat briefly as you nodded, “Of course, I can assure you that I’ll make it worth your time…” You trailed off with a sultry tone, eyeing the other three as you continued. “Each and everyone of you..” The other women shared looks between themselves before nodding in agreement, sharing a nonverbal thought before looking back at you with that same gaze, “Is that right?” Grayson soon spoke up, her husky and raspy voice sending chills up your spine.

Oh this was gonna be fun.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You found yourself seated on Ambessa’s lap while seated on the bed, back pressing against her ample chest as she bullied two fingers into your sopping cunt—earning whimpers and moans from you. For once, you felt embarrassed with how you felt exposed with the other women watching you closely—watching with that hungry glare. “Look at you…takin me all in so nicely. I bet you never did this with any other customer, have you, child? Never made you feel as good as this, hm?” All she was returned with was a whimper and a shake of your head.

She wanted a solid answer.

Her fingers slipped out of you to land a slap to your clit, making you cry out and squirm in her grasp. “I asked you a question. Do not make me ask again.” “N-no! Never felt this way…t-this good!” She hummed in approval and slipped the thick digits back into your welcoming cunt, cringing at the squelching noise.

Sevika eyes stayed stuck on yours, particularly on the way your expression was filled with bliss and ecstasy whenever Ambessa would thrust her finger repeatedly in that spongy spot that made you see stars. She and Ambessa shared a glance before Sevika made her way up to you, suddenly pulling you into a messy, rough kiss—moaning and groaning into the feverish kiss. Your fluttering eyes peered open to glance at the other, Grayson and Cassandra. The mere sight of them made you throb. Both women hands roamed over their bodies as their lips locked—sensing that they definitely had some sort of ‘fling’, but we keep that hush here.

Ambessa eyes watched the two of you share the messy kiss together, watching in pure satisfaction and pleasure as she watched your body jerked when her thumb strummed over your throbbing clit. “Quite responsive…how cute.” Sevika lips pulled from yours, panting heavily before she leaned to attack your neck with feverish bites and kisses—warning whimpers and groans from you. Your hips jerked and thighs twitched as you felt the fiery sensation burn in your stomach, “G-gonna cum…p-please..”

A small hum escaped Ambessa’s lip at your breathless pleads, practically relishing it all in. “Mm, should we let our precious cum or no?” She hummed to the others, all three exchanging glances before giving a knowing glare to her—this wouldn’t be the only you’ll time you’ll be cumming anyway, so she let you have it. Your vision blurred with spots of black and white, feeling your body lock up with a broken moan leaving you; feeling your body shudder with impact of the orgasm. It nearly left you utterly breathless.

Sevika lips finally pulled away from your neck, relishing your heaving chest and marked neck and jaw—the sight made her clit throbbed in her boxers. “Felt good, didn’t it, babydoll?” She murmured lowly, grasping your cheeks and cupping them to make your lips puff. You gave her a small nod, looking at her as if she held everything just with the palm of her hand.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s gonna get even better.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“That’s it…”

Ambessa drawled out with that sultry tone as you licked feverishly at her soaked pussy, holding your head in place with a firm hand as your eyes fluttered up at her—never leaving hers. “Doing so well …” The praise of her felt absolutely heavenly, along with the way Sevika thrust were deep and rough, hitting that spot repeatedly with the faux dick. Your muffled moans vibrated against Ambessa’s soaked flesh, earning low moans and grunts from her. Your eyes teared up as Sevika placed her flesh hand on the small of your lower, pressing you deeper into an arch and allowing her to hit deeper.

“Yeah, there you go….takin it so good. Justttt like that, baby.” The way her voice flowed through your ears made your eyes roll back, whining and moaning to no end. Your lips latched onto the warlord’s clit as you suckled on it with steady licks, feeling her body tense and lock up as you watched her throw her head back—seeing the way her throat bobbed and jaw clenched. Tightly grasping at her toned thighs, you double down on your efforts. Your tongue slipped inside her and slurped messily and nosily, moaning and whining as Sevika’s thrust became more rough. “Don’t you think you’re bein’ a little careless with the girl, no?” That familiar voice rasped out, Grayson, who was nearly breathlessly after the little session between her and Cassandra. Sevika shared her a glance before chuckling lowly, suddenly slapping your ass and making you jolt, but Ambessa held you in place just for her.

“Course not. She’s a big girl.” She leaned down against your ear as her flesh hand snaked between your trembling legs and rubbing your aching clit in time with her thrusts, “I know she’ll take it anyway.” A small whine slipped from you at her whispered words, feeling that fiery sensation build up quickly. Ambessa’s thighs locked around your head as her body tensed up, feeling the taste of her gush into your mouth as her own body reached its limit. You followed shortly after. Your vision blurred with spots of white and black, cumming with a muffled cry as your thighs shook and trembled. Sevika pulled out a little, just to see the white ring coat her strap perfectly. “That’s what I wanted to see..” She groaned lowly before suddenly sinking back in, making you grasp Ambessa’s thighs tighter and body to jerk before she placed a hand on your lower back to keep you steady. “No, no—you can take it.”

You shook your head with protest as she slowly thrusted in and out of you, whining and whimpering as the rigged veins rubbed your sensitive walls and hit that certain spot. “I—oh fuck—I-I can’t…” Ambessa took hold of your chin, gazing into your teary eyes with a lustful glint. She pulled you from her thighs and close to a firm, feverish kiss—muffling your whiny protest. With each thrust, the base of the strap kept hitting Sevika’s clit over and over again; earning groans and low moans from her.

“Now, now, child. You’ll take what we give you.” Ambessa chided with a low tone as she pulled away from the kiss, seeing how your eyes were barely even able to focus on her.

She couldn’t have that.

Her palm came down on your cheek, sending stinging shivers to your cheeks, making you alert once more. “There she is..” Your teary eyes gazed up at the woman like a puppy begging for permission, making her smirk at the mere sight. “Ohhh…is Sevika being too rough with you?” She murmured with a low murmur, brushing her thumb over your tear-struck cheeks and smudged the runny mascara. “M-mhm! Y-yes—oh fuck—please!” Your whines and whimper spurred the women on, feeling how Sevika thrusts became more feverish and uncoordinated; making your head swarm. “S-shit…” Was all the woman behind you could groan out before her hips stuttered as the orgasm hit her, lazily rutting against you before she slowly pulled out—admiring the mess before being interrupted.

“Isn’t it rude to hog, hm?”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Your face was buried deep between Grayson’s thighs as she settled on your face, hungrily licking and sucking at her soaked core as Cassandra’s leg was thrown over yours, holding your leg around her waist as her clit bumped with yours in a rhythmic motion. Your head was swirling with the overwhelming sensation. Moans and groans filled the room of the three of you as the other two watched closely while openly touching themselves—it was definitely quite the sight.

Grayson fingers tugged at your hair as you held onto her thighs tightly, moaning into her cunt as she would grind against the velvety tongue, “That it…there you do, doin so—mgh—good..” Hearing the way her raspy voice filled your eyes made your clit throb against Cassandra’s clit, making her moan at the sensation. “I—oh god—think she likes it, dear…” Cassandra slender fingers trailed up and down your trembling legs, occasionally placing sweet kisses up and down the shaky muscle.

Your ears picked up the faint sounds of low moans and heavy breathing, peeking from Grayson thighs to look over and see the other women enjoying themselves—knuckles deep into their cunt, seeing how arousal coated the curly bush of hair.

The sight nearly made you cum right there and then.

Cassandra’s slender fingers slipped up to your breast, brushing over your hardened nipples with a gentle touch; making your hips jerk. “T-that’s it, lovely…just like that—ah!” Her head fell back as your husk bucked up to her, making your clits bump perfectly together in the perfect motion. A whimper erupted from your mouth at the shrill of electric shooting through your weary body.

Grayson settled further down on your mouth as you stopped briefly, “C’mon, love—there you go—shit…” A shaky breath fell from her lips as you resumed your ravenous pursuit to her clit, feeling the way her body tensed up and breathing became rigged.

Your thighs started to tremble with the way Cassandra started to roll and grind her clit over yours in a steady motion, feeling the slick run down to your ass—making a mess of the sheets once more. “Look at that. Such a dirty—f-fuck—girl, yeah?” Your ears picked up the sound of Sevika low tone, hearing the low moan that threatened to escape her mouth as you knew she was getting closer herself, along with Ambessa. Feeling the way Grayson thighs tensed around your head, you knew she wasn’t far either—nor were you or Cassandra as the pornographic noises became more louder. A low moan—nearly a shuddery breath—fell from Grayson’s mouth as her thighs locked up around your head.

And then it happened.

Hush of liquors spurred from her spasming hole as her thighs trembled alongside your head, weakly grinded against your mouth as she rode the waves of the organs out; breathing heavily as your bleary eyes looked up at her—seeing beads of sweat on her neck and forehead, the way her eyes fluttered with a daze, and how her breathing was shaky. Meanwhile, Cassandra rolled her hips with a quicker, but steady pace as she felt that hand in her stomach tighten—tighten—and tighten till she came crumbling down, letting out a soft moan that became louder as she continued to grind against you—making you whimper loudly as you suddenly felt that tingling sensation in you erupt.

Grayson slowly settled off you as you moaned and whined to no end, body convulsing with the intensity of the orgasm—leaving you feeling practically boneless. Cassandra’s face was flushed as a rose, panting heavily as her own thighs trembled, slowly moving off you before laying down beside you as the three of you panted like an overworked dog. You stared up at the ceiling with a dazed gaze as your ears ringed, slowly tuning back in as you started to slowly started to fall back in. Your eyes flickered over to the Sev and Bessa—seeing the complete between their thighs and pools of liquid dripping onto the floor.

Someone definitely gained some regulars.

hope you enjoyed bbys!!! (sorry ts took so long to publish UGHHH) <3

taglist 🏷️!! @supalcina @abbyslvrrr @zthebean27 @ivorydevil @halle5s @tqlepatia @jhyoos @haruko--bby @madewithsilk