#and nothing makes sense so this! may be senseless

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

If you allow yandere, then Can I request a yandere! Catnap x Creator! reader?

Time are in the middle of hour of joy, and Reader are in playcare, catnap are chasing reader and reader are desperately running away from him. and reader is creator or the person who came up with the design of Catnap.

'God..why did this happen? Why did this have to happen?? God, please make this stop...tell me I'm dreaming..'

Sadly, this was no dream.

The screams, the bloodshed, the senseless slaughter..

All of it was very much real, and you were right in the middle of it all, currently hiding within Playcare. You didn't even know what was going on exactly or why.

Everywhere you looked, there was another dead body on the ground, in the grass, and splayed across the stairs...all of whom were either your coworkers, scientists you've never seen before, security personnel, or innocent visitors.

Many of them had similar wounds--claw marks from none other than Catnap himself, who you saw stalking around the premises, looking for survivors.

But why would he do something like this?

How was he even capable of such violence?

It was supposed to be a normal and simple day:

You clocked in, checked up on Catnap's well-being after he put the children to sleep, and then left to attend to other matters. It was a mundane routine, but you were always excited to get up and go to work because of him.

However, you were running a tad bit late today and feared you'd get an earful from your supervisor considering the company's strict tardiness rules.

But on your way to Playcare, the emergency sirens resounded all throughout the facility. You had no idea what was going on, although the distant screams made you utterly terrified and had you running straight to that area, praying you'll find shelter from whatever danger lurked nearby...

Instead you ran straight into the scene of a massacre.

All orchestrated by Catnap and several mini-Smiling Critters who got loose, attacking and devouring whatever poor human got caught in their sights.

You had to throw on your gas mask quickly to avoid inhaling the red smoke. There was very little lingering in the air still, but judging from the corpses who still wore them or had them torn from their heads, they must have been prepared for this massive containment breach.

Even so, none were spared.

Catnap was probably smart enough to know the purpose of those masks. And he put them all to sleep. Permanently.

Yet somehow he hasn't spotted you yet, and you hoped to every god above that he didn't.

This pained you especially as you were on the designer team for the Smiling Critters. You actually made the first drawing of Catnap and presented it to your boss, who approved it right away...but only after making a few minor major adjustments.

Who knew something so sweet and innocent would turn into something so deadly?

He was supposed to be nothing more than a cartoon character brought to life and a plush toy (that unfortunately got recalled). How the higher-ups managed to achieve that with him and the other critters without your team ever knowing...you had no idea, but you were thrilled by the results.

You adored Catnap, and he was well aware that you created the idea of him--almost worshipping you, in a sense, and being the only human he'd properly communicate with.

In turn, you've communicated with him healthily, treating him like a person instead of an experiment. He did mutter strange things sometimes and talked about freedom, but you never probed him on that nor reminded him that he was a prisoner here.

No matter how true it may be, no toy deserves to be told that.

Now that you were here, hiding from the very thing you had loved and created, you weren't sure if you were even looking at Catnap anymore.

It may look like him, but it's not him.

Catnap is not a killing machine.

Whatever those scientists did turned him into a monster. A creature they failed to keep in check.

And he snapped, slaughtering many of your acquaintances and innocent families interested in the adoption program.

He kept muttering about an "Hour of Joy", which you've heard him speak of in the past. But you've always assumed he was talking about an upcoming birthday party or event within the Playhouse the other Smiling Critters were planning..

Not a giant bloodbath that painted the floors and walls of Playcare red.

You ducked behind a trash canister as you watched Catnap creep towards a survivor, who was also wearing a gas mask and breathing hard. Seeing that their leg was torn off at the knee, you knew there was no hope of helping them.

The moment they were spotted, their fate was sealed.

They were his prey now.

You couldn't look away as he paused for a moment, before reaching forward with a quick swipe, tearing off their mask. His claws left big gash marks across their face as they wailed in pain, but it didn't last long as he quickly pounced and slashed their throat next--leaving them to choke on their own blood.

Seconds later, their body stilled, becoming just like the rest of those surrounding them.

You made the horrible mistake of exhaling a shaky breath, the mask amplifying the noise.

That's when Catnap whipped his head towards you, those white dots growing larger.

"YOU. COME HERE."

Realizing your cover's blown, you jumped up and knocked the trash canister over, hoping it'd distract him long enough for you to race inside Home Sweet Home. But the diversion barely did anything, as you heard the loud stomps of the purple beast practically on your heels.

He lunged at the door just as you turned and slammed it shut, locking it and trying to shove a chair beneath the knobs. There was loud knocking on the other side, but eventually it stopped.

As soon as it did, you rushed into one of the many bunkbed rooms, finding it strangely devoid of children, scientists, and caretakers.

What happened to them all?

Did they evacuate safely?

Did they know about this ahead of time?

You had no idea, and quite frankly..now wasn't the time to find out. Rather, it was time for you to think of a way out of this wretched place, but you feared it won't be easy.

You knew the orphanage's interior like the back of your hand--the problem were the little Smiling Critters that you could currently hear pitter-pattering down the halls.

He put them here on patrol.

If any of them saw you..surely they'd alert him.

On the brightside, there were no traces of red smoke to be found, so you briefly took the mask off to give yourself a breather. Sweat poured down your face, and your throat ran dry; you could practically feel your own heartbeat pounding within it as you tried to figure out your next move.

Maybe if you wait here long enough, he'll get bored and leave...

Or maybe he'll-

All of the sudden, a critter leapt out from underneath one of the covers and tried latching onto your head. You yelled out as it screeched right beside your ear, attempting to bite into it and get a taste of your flesh, but you managed to throw it down to the ground and keep it crushed under your shoe.

You grabbed a nearby metal rod from a destroyed bedframe, pointing the sharp end at its throat..

Only to realize it was a Catnap, who looked perfectly intact aside from a little dirt caking its plush body.

Both of you had a bit of a staring contest.

And in the end....you couldn't find it in you to kill it.

All you could do was stare down at the creature, tears in your eyes as you watched it wriggle and snarl, pawing at your foot. It was barely putting up a fight now, which made you realize it probably didn't want to attack you.

Rather..it seemed hungry.

But why would it be hungry for human flesh?

Was Catnap the same way? Was he hungry or just killing for sport?

More importantly...why was he killing at all and tormenting you like this?

Maybe he was angry about his toyline being recalled, or the unfair treatment he's gotten here by the scientists. Or perhaps he felt outcasted by the other Smiling Critters.

You didn't know if any of them were still around, but for all you knew they could be just like him.

Hungry, rampaging monsters.

The ringing phone snapped you back to reality, and you cautiously took your foot off the tiny Catnap. It got up and skittered away into a nearby hole in the rotting wall, apparently having lost its appetite.

You quickly answered the machine, praying it was somebody upstairs trying to get in contact with you. Maybe a survivor who knew how to get you out. Before you gave them a chance to speak, you went first, being so scared, frustrated, and overwhelmed by everything that's happened thus far.

You just wanted this nightmare to be over already.

"Thank god. What the hell is going on?! It's like a fucking slaughterhouse down here-"

"It's a celebration. The Hour of Joy, little mouse."

Your blood ran cold, realizing who that voice belonged to. 'The Toys...they know how to use these phones..?'

"C-Catnap?"

"[Y/n]..why did you run away?" He whispered hoarsely. "I didn't know it was you."

"Wha...b-because you were killing people!" Your voice grew shaky, confused as to why he sounded so calm. "And you would've killed me, too!!"

"No."

"...what?"

"You are special to me, little mouse. You breathed life into me. You must be kept safe, for you are pure..unlike these wretched souls." He murmured. "They would have taken you away from me. Forever. I do not want that."

"Y-You're..not making any sense, Catnap." You struggled to wrap your head around his words. "If someone told you I'm quitting or getting fired or transferring..they lied. Nobody's taking me away from you..is that what you're afraid of? Is that why you did all of this?"

"I did it..for the Prototype...and for you. He told me I could spare one soul when our Hour of Joy is up."

Your stomach sank, but before you could ask him more about this "prototype", he cut you off.

"Shhhhhhhh. No more talking. No more running. Sleep, little mouse."

By the time you realized red smoke was starting to fill up the room, it was already far too late as you began coughing. You dropped the phone and frantically searched for your gas mask.

No way in hell were you going to fall asleep now.

Especially not after what he told you.

You'd rather die with the rest of them.

Suddenly you heard a small crunching noise and looked down, seeing that you stepped on one of the lenses. 'Shit..it must've broke off during my scuffle with Mini-Catnap...'

You could feel your eyelids growing heavy, and you instead tried grabbing something to stuff beneath the door to stop more smoke from seeping in. No matter what, you HAD to stay awake, you told yourself.

And yet..

That stained worn mattress with the blanket you half-dragged off suddenly looked quite comfortable.

You collapsed onto it, feeling exhaustion overwhelm you immediately despite the rest of your body's attempts to fight it--knowing your fate was ultimately left in his hands should you fail.

But you were so, so tired..

You couldn't help closing your eyes. Just for a little while.

Right before losing consciousness, however, you noticed that the door was now open, and through the red fog appeared Catnap himself.

Except he didn't look like a monster made of skin and bones, instead being a little bipedal purple cat who seemingly jumped straight out of the cartoon show.

His fur wasn't tainted with a single spec of blood or dirt.

He was perfect.

Your perfect creation.

All he did was smile, and you fell asleep smiling back.

[homunculus-argument]

The Other Folk are eerie creatures, that should only be approached with caution. Our Neighbours, some like to call them - those who know little of them consider them strange beasts, and some who know more of them seem to consider them stranger than that. Death and great treasures appear wherever they tread, and the beasts that don't run to them flee from them by instinct. Some say that those beasts are wiser than we are, who dare to live so close to them.

They seem to live for generations, and whatever they do with these long lives is strange and senseless to us. They might kill you, for no perceived offense, but will not eat the corpse. They do not kill us to eat us, and whatever they eat is from beyond the world we know. Once you have tasted their treasures, you will never want to taste anything else.

Do not eat what they offer you without hesitation. They may offer you fabulous gifts, to lure you in, and kill you as soon as they've caught you. But some, they say, can be befriended, and will offer you their treasures for nothing in return but their own amusement. It is customary, then, to bring them certain trinkets, as gifts in return. No-one knows why these trinkets are so precious to them, that they would thank their favourites so lavishly. But nothing they do makes sense anyhow, and their motives are beyond comprehension.

Sometimes they may aid you, for nothing in return. This is a dangerous gamble - do not go to them unless your distress is so dire that death by their hand could not be worse than the one you'll face without them. They may be impressed by your wit and audacity, and reward you with their help.

In conclusion, the fae are to humans as humans are to crows.

[muffinpink02]

Guess who

You want your girlfriend’s (Alexia’s) attention, so you decide to be a brat. But she goes one better and invites a few other teammates to help with your ‘punishment.’

Warnings : Smut , 18+ blindfold, fingering, strap, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, restraint and more. No real story just smut.

The club lights beamed over your face as you danced to the music, glowing in your win. Barcelona had won Liga F, the last two goals were your own, you were close to getting a hactric but the football gods didn’t allow it today. The win was enough.

You celebrated in the changing rooms, champagne was sprayed over the group, you wasn’t sure if it was Lucy or Ingrid, maybe it was both of them. The team of course took the celebrations to a fancy night club. As soon as you arrived the drinks were flowing quick and fast, shots were passed to you from every angle. You were feeling the alcohol but mostly feeling the pride of winning. Maybe it was the excitement from winning or the drink in your system that got you riled up.

You knew you shouldn’t have done it.

The look on her face was enough to put the fear in god. But you wanted her attention, and instead of telling her, instead of asking her like the good girl you were meant to be, you decided to be bratty.

And it worked, you got her attention, her hazel eyes bore into yours as you pressed up against one of the girls on the squad. You wasn’t sure who it was and you didn’t really care, you had pressed your body up against half the team at this point, the liquor in your veins giving you that sense of blind bravery.

You had pressed your backside into Mapi’s front, her tattooed covered arms, swept up your body. Grinding your arse deliciously into her core, smiling wickedly when you heard her moan. You had put your arms around Lucy’s strong shoulders, faces inches from each others, dancing like it was only you two in the room. You even had Ona up against your front, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, making her blush and giggle like a school girl. Nobody would think too much into it, it was normal amongst the team to dance like that. You may have been extra touchy with the three brunettes but everyone was too drunk to notice, except one person.

Alexia watched it all. All of it just for some attention.

She allowed you to keep it up, dancing with everyone in the club. You were a little disappointed that she hadn’t dragged you to the closest bathroom and fucked you until you begged her to stop, but maybe she was saving that for later.

Once the night was over and you were in the back of an Uber with Alexia’s hand between your legs, her fingers gently circling your thighs, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You watched the Spaniard looking out the window, she was deep in thought, concentration on her face. But to feel her touch was a good sign, surely she couldn’t be too upset if she wanted to touch you. She hadn’t said much to you, just a short conversation asking if you were ready to leave, and that the Uber had arrived. But she was eerily quiet.

You started to worry if Alexia was genuinely hurt, you only did it to get her riled up. It wasn’t like this was the first time you had made her jealous to get her attention. You had flirted with your team mates before tonight. It would mostly consist of an extra touch to Lucy’s arm when she was talking to you, or laughing extra hard at Mapi’s jokes, and yeah, you liked to pick Ona up from behind, making her squeal and blush. It wasn’t too obvious for anyone to notice, just enough that Alexia would notice.

And you knew she liked it, you both got a kick out of it. You loved nothing more than when Alexia reminded you who you belonged to, reminding you whose name you screamed when you were on the edge of blacking out from pure bliss. You would fuck each other senseless, and you gave one another endless pleasure, it was your thing. But was tonight too much? Had you pushed it? Had the dancing been a step too far? You just wanted her to get her possessive side out, it was your favourite side after all.

When you finally got home you braced yourself to be shoved against a wall, a tongue down your throat, but it never came. Alexia dropped her keys in the bowl and walked towards your bedroom.

“I’m going to shower amor meu.”

You were quick on her heels, not sure on what to do, you felt needy but you couldn’t help it. The Spaniard had started to strip in the bathroom, you watched, not able to take your eyes off her strong, beautiful body.

“Would you like some company?” You asked voice a little shakey.

She turned to look at you, a playful smile set on her face. “Always, baby. Strip.”

You were naked within seconds, you stood in front of the blonde, hot water washing over both your bodies. Your hands were on her straight away, you just needed to feel her skin, desperate to feel her touch. You looked up at her, those hazel eyes were warm, the smile on her face made your insides melt, making you instantly feel calmer. She pulled you closer to her, you exhaled a breath you didn’t release you were holding.

“Did you have fun tonight, baby?” Alexia asked.

“Lots of fun, I’m actually still a bit tipsy. Did you?” You said it while you kissed her neck.

She chuckled at your drunken honesty. “Sí, I had fun. Your goals were amazing. You played so well. I’m very proud of you.” She purred in your ear. Your eyes closed as she kissed your forehead.

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face. It always meant a lot to you when Alexia complimented your football skills. “Thank you, Ale.”

The worry of upsetting Alexia slowly slipped away, maybe she just wasn’t in the mood for that kind of intimacy tonight, she had played the full 90 minutes of the game plus extra time. So maybe it wasn’t what she wanted, and that was fine with you, even if you did feel like a horny teenager right now.

Her hands cupped your face, bringing you to her lips. The kiss was soft and sweet she gently swiped her tongue over your lips, asking for entry. You opened your mouth allowing her tongue to roam your own. The kisses were gentle and intimate, she pulled small sighs from your mouth as her tongue caressed your own. Alexia’s lips always made you melt, no matter where they were on your body. From your mouth, to your stomach, to in between your legs, she knew how to work her tongue.

She pushed a little deeper, the kiss becoming a little more heated. You tried to keep up with her movements, but she was starting to dominate the kiss, your breathing started to become ragged. Her hand came up to the back of your neck, guiding you to the tiled wall, you gasped as your back hit the cold tiles, but she only swallowed it.

This is exactly what you wanted, you had wanted her mouth, her hands, her body, everything that was Alexia, you had wanted her all night. Your plan had clearly worked, maybe she was as turned on as you. You began to moan as her lips collided with yours, she bit hard on your bottom lip, making you whimper loudly. She looked down at you, happy to see your lips were now red and swollen, she pushed her hips on yours and began to rock, her eyes never leaving yours.

She took your hands in one of her own, raising them above your head. She moved her free hand to your lips, stroking her thumb gently where she bit you. She was looking at you with such an intensity it almost scared you.

“You’re so beautiful.” She whispered.

You felt your cheeks blush, you casted your eyes down, suddenly feeling shy.

“Thank you. You’re beautiful too.”

She hummed, her eyes roaming your face, like she was really looking at you, every bit of you. She cupped your chin raising your head, she started to kiss your neck, her gentleness disappeared again. She bit down hard, not enough to hurt but enough to make you whimper. Your arms were still above your head, she was holding you tightly, clearly not wanting you to move. Her free hand slithered down your wet body, stroking your skin, she cupped your pussy, making you groan.

“Ale. Please.”

“Is this what you want?”

You nodded, your teeth between your lips, so desperate for her.

“You looked so good dancing tonight baby.”

Fuck.

“You looked liked you enjoyed yourself with the girls. Especially with Mapi, Lucy and Ona.” She pushed her finger right on your clit making you jolt.

Fuck, there it was.

“Did you like dancing with them? Hmm? It looked liked you really enjoyed yourself. Is that what you want? One of them to fuck you? Make me watch?”

It wasn’t a secret between you and Alexia that you maybe had a little thing for each of the brunettes. Nothing serious, you could just appreciate a good looking woman when you saw one. You had spoken about it before, in the safety of your bed sheets, after a couple hours of screaming each other’s names. And in the midst of your ogasmic haze she then of course asked if you would ever have sex with any of them, and even though you blushed at first you admitted you would. Alexia of course wasn’t jealous, she just made sure to keep a note.

But you had never spoken about them like this, not while you was being intimate. Normally the mild flirting at training just made Alexia want you, punish by you a little, but maybe tonight had sparked something different?

She rolled her hips hard, wanting a response from you.

The move made you moan, your mouth was suddenly dry, you swallowed on nothing. You hoped if you told the truth Alexia would give you what you had wanted all night. Should you admit that you had thought about each girl when you were dancing with them? Should you admit that you liked it? Admit that you loved the way Alexia watched you when you had yourself wrapped up in each of the girls? You tried to look away, now suddenly feeling shy. The alcohol was still in your system but the cocky bravado had disappeared, now all that was left was a tail between your legs and your submissive side showing its face.

Even though Alexia was very possessive of you, she would never make you feel any type of way for your attraction to someone. It was a natural thing to feel, you are attracted to women for godsakes, you can appreciate beauty when you see it. The thing is you didn’t realise how much Alexia had enjoyed watching you with the girls, how much she liked the thought of you with them.

But the look she gave you maybe gave it away. She looked almost hopeful, like she already knew the answer and just wanted to hear you to say it out loud.

Your heart thumped as you said it. “Yes. I liked it, I liked you watching.”

She hummed again, her fingers stroked over your lips, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “So. You want one of them here? Sí? Touching you like this?” She dipped a single finger into your folds, still not giving you any friction.

You met her eyes this time, you panicked. “No, Ale. Only you.”

“Oh? Do you not want them now? You danced with soo many, have you forgotten?“

“No, I do. I-I d-don’t know.” You panted as she circled her finger just slightly over your clit.

“No baby, you told me already. Don’t lie.”

“Yes, I do. I want them to fuck me.” You whispered.

“Who baby?”

“Ma-Mapi, LUCY! Fuck!” She pushed two fingers hard inside your cunt. “And, a-and Ona.”

She hummed again, her pupils dilated twice the size, making her hazel eyes nearly black. She pumped roughly into you, her fingers slapping hard against your pussy, but it was short lived. She pulled out of you, leaving you wet and desperate. You looked up at her as she grabbed her towel, the smile she gave you was dangerous.

—————

The next couple of days were hell, well, not hell but Alexia wouldn’t have sex with you.

So, it was basically hell.

Every time you tried to initiate it, she stoped you in your tracks. She didn’t stop you kissing or getting handsy but that’s as far as it got. And to be frank It was driving you crazy, you had wanted her since the night club, so to say you was horny was an understatement.

You knew it wasn’t personal, she was punishing you, and of course she would tease the fuck out of you, she flaunted her body around the house, half naked, or sometimes completely naked. She would make sure to push up against you, pushing her core into your arse as you cooked dinner, purring into your ear. And of course she acted innocent to it all, like it was nothing, like she wasn’t driving you crazy. You wasn’t even allowed to touch yourself and release some of your tension, of course Alexia wouldn’t allow it, this was a punishment and you were definitely paying for it.

You got a taste of your own medicine when Alexia began to use your own tricks on the three brunettes. You watched in practice as she spoke to them, easily flirting with them like it was nothing. You knew she had something up her sleeve, she was of course doing it on purpose, knowing you were watching. The no sex punishment had been done before, even though you missed her touch you knew she was going to make it worth it, but it had been six days!

Finally, on the 9th day she broke.

It had been the longest time you hadn’t had sex with each other. And honestly you were staring to climb the walls, you knew you needed to be punished, but nine days without Alexia was torture. Especially when she was right in front of you, it wasn’t like she was away for a trip, she was in touching distance.

It was after a day of training, you stepped out the shower, Alexia was laying on her side of the bed, phone in hand already dressed from her own shower. She was wearing the shorts that rode up her arse, the shorts you loved and a vest top that showed off the bottom of her gorgeous stomach. Fuck. This was hard, just looking at her made your pussy throb.

Hazel eyes caught your own as you walked to your side of the bed. She had a playful smile on her face, the smile that gave you butterflies. You sat on your side of the bed, drying yourself off, trying to ignore your horny thoughts. That’s when you heard the sheets rustle, the bed started to dip behind you.

“Are you sorry?” She purred into your ear, making you shiver.

You fiercely nodded your head. “I’m sorry, Ale.” You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. 9 days!

She hummed, happy with your response, she moved to your side of the bed, and sat in your lap, her beautiful bare thighs sat on the either side of your own.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered.

“Hmm do you think you’ve learnt your lesson? Seràs bo per a mi?”

You nodded, so desperate for the girl in front of you. “Yes. I’ll be soo good.”

She smiled at you, her smile seemed giddy, she scrapped your hair back behind your ear, bringing her mouth to yours. It was a heated and messy kiss, she pushed you on your back, grinding her clothed pussy on to your stomach. You held onto her hips, helping her movements but she didn’t stay for long. She was off of your lap, walking towards your toy box, you felt your pussy clench at the thought of Alexia fucking you with her strap.

“Get into the middle of the bed, hands up.”

You did as you were told. It wasn’t a secret that you liked being tied up, well, liked was an understatement. You loved it. Alexia had learnt early on in your relationship that it was one of your biggest turn ons. She would have you tied up for hours, using your body how she wanted. She especially loved it when you had been a brat, she would punish you as she pleased. Like this very moment.

Alexia walked over to you, a bounce in her step and a very amused smile on her face, she looked more excited than normal, maybe even nervous, you couldn’t really read her face. Before you could ask if she was okay, she grabbed your hands and with the perfect knot she tide you wrists to the bed frame above your head. You attempted to move but she had done this countless times, the knot was perfect.

“You look so good like this baby.” She kissed your lips softly. She quickly moved to the box grabbing some more toys, you then noticed she had the black blind fold in her hand. You didn’t hate the blindfold but there was nothing better than watching Alexia take what she wanted from you. You swore you could come half the time just by watching her, so the blindfold wasn’t your favourite but you wasn’t about to argue.

“Perfecte” Complete darkness took over, not a bit of light came through the blind fold. The darkness slowly making your other senses heighten. You could hear Alexia’s footsteps around the room, you were waiting to hear the belts of the harness or a vibrator go on, but there was nothing. Until you heard the front door go, making you panic slightly.

“Ale? Who’s that? I didn’t order anything.”

You then felt her hand grip your chin softly, her mouth was near your ear. “We have company baby. They’re here for you.”

Your body tensed up, what did she mean they were here for you? Your mind went a mile a minute. Alexia must have seen the panic on your face, you felt her come closer to you, stroking your hair back gently.

“Since you wanted to be a whore and tease me like a little brat, you’re going to be treated like one. But not just by me, maybe you can guess what teammate of ours is going to help me?”

Your brain couldn’t keep up, you heard what Alexia said but you just couldn’t comprehend. Was she really telling you she had one of the Barca girls outside? Waiting to fuck you? With Alexia? Together? You hated yourself for it but your body reacted just the way Alexia clearly knew it would. But she took your silence for worry.

“Hey, we don’t have to actually do this, I can tell them to leave, and I can unt-.”

“No. No, I want this. I’m green. I want this.”

Alexia would never put you up to something you didn’t want to do, you were both completely honest in your relationship and that didn’t change with sex. When you first got together you had spoken for hours about what you liked, what you didn’t like, safe words, and your kinks. That’s also when she learned you were submissive and she was more dominant, but you could still switch it up when you both wanted to, making you work perfectly together.

After the talk in the shower she had an idea, an idea she knew you’d like. She knew you had enjoyed yourself the other night, she knew you had thought about the girls in intimate ways, and for a while she had thought about watching you with said girls. So she decided to turn the fantasy into a reality.

You couldn’t see it but Alexia’s smile was wide. She stroked your hair back once more, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “Are you sure cariño?”

You trusted Alexia with your life and your body, so you knew you could trust whoever she was allowing to share you with. It made your love grow for Alexia tenfold, you both could be exactly who you wanted to be, no judgement, no jealousy.

“So sure Ale. Who is it?”

She tutted playfully. “Let’s just say say she’s brunette and you danced with her the other night. I’ll be right back, I need to let them in.”

You listened to Alexia leaving the room, you couldn’t believe what was happening. Your body was tingling all over, you was about to have sex with someone and not even get to see them. You wondered who it could be. You rattled your brain, thinking about who you danced with most that night. Also who would agree to this?

You remember dancing with most of the girls, so this would be difficult. Though, you do remember dancing with Mapi a lot, but also Lucy and even Ona. Those were the three you were the most intimate with…. also the three you told Alexia you wanted to fuck! That’s when it hit you, you told Alexia when you were in the shower after the night out. You had completely forgotten about that conversation, still being slightly tipsy at the time. That’s why she must have been flirting, well, talking to them more at practice. Had one of them really agreed to this?

After about five long minutes, you heard footsteps walk in to the bedroom, you suddenly felt exposed. You was completely naked, your body for all to see and you didn’t even know who was looking at you.

“I’m still here, amor meu, and so is our guest. She knows your safe words and what you don’t like. Not that there’s much.” You could hear the teasing in Alexia’s voice.

She continued. “She isn’t going to talk to you, she’s knows it’s your punishment, so don’t try any funny business. Are you going to be a good girl for her Please her?”

You nodded, you could feel your pussy getting wet. Was this really happening?

“Words, baby.”

“I’m going to be good.”

“Good girl. Our guest can’t wait to have you. She wants to taste you.”

The thumping in your heart was loud, you was sure Alexia and whoever was in the room could hear it, or even see your chest moving from the beat. Excited wasn’t the word, you didn’t have the words for how you felt, but the willingness to please was overwhelming.

You could hear shuffling, the bottom of the bed dipped at your feet. Your breathing quickened, you could feel someone was coming closer to you, that’s when you felt the hand on your leg, making you flinch. The hand stroked you soothingly, trying to calm your nerves. Then you felt a pair of lips, a pair of soft gentle lips on your knee, instantly making you hot. You could feel the girl breathing on your skin, almost as hard and erratic as your own. Your body eased a little but you couldn’t help but still feel slightly vulnerable, as much as you was in your own wet dream this was still new.

You couldn’t help but wonder who the lips belonged to. You had never kissed anyone else on the team but Alexia. It was hard to tell from a pair of lips who it could be.

The pair of lips started to slowly creep up your leg, then another hand came to your other leg, slightly opening your thighs. You could feel your legs shaken in anticipation, you tried to relax your muscles and let yourself be taken. She started to kiss up your thigh, slowly getting closer to your pussy. You knew you were already wet, and whoever was between your legs would see it for themselves.

Just as you got ready for the feeling of her tongue, she kissed right over your core, and up your stomach. Taking small bites of your skin, making you whimper. Her hot mouth was suddenly on your nipple, making your back arch off the mattress below. The sucking was gentle, nothing like Alexia, she was always rough with your nipples, something you loved . But the softness made you whimper, wanting more.

“Sones tan bé amor meu, t'estàs passant?” Alexia’s voice sounded close.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

“Good.” You could hear the smile in her voice.

Her mouth continued to work gently on your perked nipples, giving them generous attention, she licked, sucked and softly bit at your flesh, working your body up. She started to kiss up your neck, taking small bites on your skin. Your mind was going a mile a minute, you still couldn’t work out who it was. Without your hands this would be difficult, and Alexia had clearly told them to not make any noise. If you had maybe heard a moan or a sigh or something, you could put a face to it, but she had clearly been thorough with them.

She started to move back down your body, hopefully to where you needed her most. The lips were gentle and slow. This girl was soft with her mouth, making your body melt at her touch. Whoever she was she had made your body completely relaxed making you forget about any anxious feelings you had. Just as you began to relax her mouth was gone, her hands moved around your thighs, opening you wider to her. You could tell she was close to your pussy, the bed dipped just under your arse. That’s when you felt her breathing on your lips, your very wet lips.

Once again you wondered who she was. You had a girl who you trained with, who you saw nearly every day, who you called a team mate, a friend, in between your legs. You didn’t have much time to think on it, you felt a warm tongue glide into your wet folds. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. She kept her tongue slow, just taking you in, tasting this new flavour, tasting you on her tongue.

She licked at you slowly, licking everywhere but your clit, wanting to work you up, wanting to work out what you liked. It was an odd feeling having someone’s tongue caress your pussy when you didn’t know who it was. The thought of Alexia watching the act made you even wetter, you could only imagine her face. Was she touching herself? Was she enjoying it? Was she going to join in? Or did she regret it?

The tongue between your legs gently dipped into your core, making you groan, she was so soft, just teasing your muscles. You couldn’t help but rock your hips into her face, trying to make a point that you wanted more. You could have sworn you felt her smile into your core as you felt her hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you closer to her. She must have got the message as she pushed her tongue deeper into you. You let out a deep moan as she started to fuck you with her tongue.

Fuck, she was good.

She took one long lick from your core to your clit, her lips wrapping around your swollen bundle of nerves. You couldn’t hold back the moans as she ate you out. You pulled at your ropes wanting to touch her, but you knew Alexia had you locked in.

“Oh, my god. S-so good. Don’t stop, please.”

You felt a squeeze on your thighs, a small communication between the two of you, making you wonder once again who she was, as her mouth rocked on you gently. She was so delicate and soft but she seemed like she could switch it up from her body language, giving you what you wanted. Whoever it was she could eat pussy like it was second nature.

You could feel your stomach start to tighten, your legs started to shake, your orgasm slowly building up. She must have felt it, deciding to dip her tongue back into your cunt then dragging it back up to your clit. Your hips rolled into her mouth, but she held you down easily, you could feel she was strong, but you knew all three of the women were strong, still giving you no indication on who she could be.

That’s when you felt your climax grow, your breathing quickened, small whimpers tumbled out of your mouth, a tell, tell sign you was close.

“She’s close.” Alexia’s voice was soft and full of arousal, you could hear it from a mile away.

Finally, the girl sucked on your clit, giving you the friction you needed, she bopped her head up and down giving your clit a suction that was just perfect.

“Fuck. I’m coming, please don’t stop.”

She never did, her beautiful mouth stayed where you needed her, making your own mouth water. Your head rolled against your arms as your pleasure took over. Your whole body shook, your hips started to rut against her mouth, but she held you down making sure not to leave your clit. You breathed hard, the beautiful pleasure ran over your body, making you groan loudly.

Your hips slowly stopped grinding, you could feel your juices dripping, but she didn’t let it go to waste. Her tongue dipped into you again, gently taking everything she wanted from you. You keened, you were so sensitive, but you could tell she was trying to be soft. She stayed there for a little while just licking at your juices, dipping her tongue into your hole, you couldn’t help but start to grind into her tongue, feeling yourself wanting to go again.

Once again Alexia’s voice dropped into your ears. “You’re such a greedy girl. Our guest wants your mouth bebita. Are you ready to please her?” Alexia’s voice was closer now, still dripping with arousal, maybe she didn’t regret this.

You nodded quickly. “Yes.”

“What’s your colour love?”

“Green.”

“Good. Because she told me she’s wanted your mouth for the longest time. She wants to sit on your face. She’s going to ride you until she comes. Make sure you’re good for her. Make her feel as good as she made you.”

You nodded again. “I will.” Your pussy squeezed at the thought of someone riding your face. Using you for their own pleasure.

You felt the bed dip again, you could feel her move closer to your top half, kissing your chest as she got higher. All of a sudden you felt hands near your head, then something small in your ears. Music was suddenly playing, making you jump. The first couple notes started and you knew it was yours and Alexia’s bedroom playlist. You realised your air pods had been put in your ears, you wasn’t allowed to hear. Clearly the guest wasn’t able to keep quiet for this part.

You felt fingers dip into your hair, then her thighs were either side of your arms. She gently lowered herself onto your mouth, connecting her pussy to your lips. Your tongue darting out instantly. She was wet and she tasted amazing, you couldn’t help but moan at the taste of her. Fingers gripped at your hair, you could tell she liked your moaning, you moaned again right on her sensitive clit, sending vibrations through her, giving her extra pleasure. That’s when you felt her start to gently rock her hips into your mouth. You then felt her free hand grasp onto your bound one, her fingers intertwined with your own. Making it feel more intimate, even though you had no idea who was riding your face.

Once again your mind was blown away, you had a girl ridding your face and you had no clue who she was. Well, you knew she was one of three, Mapi, Lucy or Ona and apparently one of them had wanted your mouth for the longest time. You licked up at her clit, slowly like she did, you made sure to keep a good pace, wanting to make her feel as good as she did you. The music in your ears wasn’t too distracting but you wish you could have heard her. Was she loud? Was she quiet? Was she talking to you? You loved hearing Alexia moan when your mouth was on her.

She moved up, pushing herself down on your tongue, fucking herself with your mouth. You laid there, being used for someone else’s pleasure, someone was getting off from your body and you didn’t even have the pleasure of sight or sound. Alexia knew you better than you realised, this was the best punishment you had ever had, minus the blind fold, but you knew that was your punishment, not being able to see. You were having one of your biggest fantasies play out in front of you, but not getting to see or really be involved was her way of still having control.

The fingers in your hair stroked at your scalp, making you shiver. She scooped your hair into a loose pony, just tight enough to still guide you where she needed you. After a few minutes, of her using your mouth, her movements became quicker. Her hips moved again, pushing her swollen clit back on to your tongue. You gently suckled on her clit, gliding your tongue over the bundle of nerves, your own pussy was throbbing.

Her hips grinded into your mouth, you could feel her thighs start to tremble. The fingers in your hair pulled you closer to her pussy. It felt like she was close, her movements becoming more rough, the hand in your hair becoming tighter. Her hands gripped the back of your head, lifting your mouth closer to her, she was fucking your mouth now, chasing her own pleasure.

Thats when she rutted hard against your tongue, making it slightly harder for you to breathe, but it only made you wetter. She grinded hard into your face, making sure to hold you in place. You could tell she was coming, you could feel her juices flooding your tongue, giving you no choice but to swallow. You moaned as the fluid trickled down your throat. The grip on your head became loose, but she still kept you in place, slowly moving your mouth on her taking everything she could from you. Her hips slowly came to a stop, as she moved you felt her juices drip down your chin.

You felt her hands gently stroke at your hair, then her body was gone, the music still played in your ears as you felt a pair of lips at your mouth. You realised it was the first time she had kissed your lips.

You stayed like that for a while, tied up listening to music. Your breathing slowed down but the throbbing between your legs hadn’t stopped. The music was paused and the head phones were gone.

A pair of hands stroked your hair, you could instantly tell it was Alexia. “Hola, baby. How was that?”

You smiled at hearing the blondes voice. “Amazing.”

She hummed. “Good. You made our guest very🍀 happy. She’s left your face a little messy but you don’t mind, do you baby?”

You groaned, you loved it when Alexia spoke to you like this, her tone low and dripping with sex. “No I don’t mind. She tasted so good.” You licked your lips, making a point. You could have sworn you heard someone moan in the background.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Because she definitely wants your mouth again. Whats your colour?” Alexia asked.

“Green.” You breathed out.

“Are you ready for round two?”

Your thighs rubbed against each other, desperately feeling the want between your legs, you nodded. “Yes.”

Alexia laughed. “Good girl. You looked so good baby.” Alexia kissed your lips, she hummed at the taste of the other girl. “She does taste good, maybe I’ll try her for myself.”

Fuck. the whimper you out was almost embarrassing, you wanted nothing more then to rip the blind fold off and watch Alexia have her way with one of the girls.

“Please Ale, let me see.”

But you only heard Alexia chuckle at your desperate please, choosing not to answer you. Once again you were left in the darkness, and instead of music directly in your ears, your bedroom playlist started to play loudly on a speaker throughout the room. With the music as loud as it was you knew you was going to struggle to hear, so when the bed dipped again it made you jump, but you relaxed instantly, already becoming used to the set up.

Hands placed themselves on your knees, you could tell straight away they were definitely not the same hands as before. These hands were larger, more rough. It confirmed there was more than one girl, did Alexia say there was more than one? Was there two? Or maybe all three?

Once again you wondered who they might belong to, you tired to pictured the three brunettes hands, but they all merged into one.

Her hands opened your legs further apart. Even though you couldn’t see, you could feel’s eyes on you, maybe even more than two. Your body jumped slightly as you felt a finger at your lips, stroking your wet folds. The finger came up to your clit drawing small light circles on to your bundle of nerves. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth.

“Yes. Yes. Oh my god.”

Whoever she was she was extremely talented with her fingers, she touched you like she had been doing it for years. You groaned hard, your body already building up to another orgasm, your legs started to shake and before you could get any closer her fingers were gone.

You gasped as you felt her fingers push inside your wet core. “Fuck.” You gasped.

It was a slight stretch, her fingers were thick, even thicker then Alexia’s. You also hadn’t had anything in you for over a week. She let you get used to the feeling of her fingers, not moving until she felt your body relax.

Her other hand stroked down your thigh, slightly squeezing your muscle. You felt her large hand press firmly on your stomach, holding you down. You relaxed easily, wanting her to use those talented fingers on you. She stroked her fingers in and out of your cunt, pulling the smallest whimpers from you. She hadn’t even done anything and she already felt amazing. You moved your hips into her hand, trying to urge her to move faster, but she didn’t. She kept up her painfully lazy pace, slow and steady. Was you going to have to beg? You was never below begging.

“Please. I need you faster.” You hoped she could hear you over the music. She squeezed your thigh again, she clearly heard you but she wasn’t budging.

It was a beautiful kind of torture, she was hitting all the right spots, but you needed her to go faster, deeper even. You begged and pleaded for her to pick up her speed but she wouldn’t budge. You could feel your juices dripping into her hand, down your cheeks and on to the mattress below you. You almost felt embarrassed at how wet she had gotten you and the pathetic noises you made for her. She kept it up for about ten minutes but it felt like hours, you pulled at your restraints in frustration. This girl was clearly a tease, she was trying to drive you crazy and frankly, it was working.

Maybe you had to go about this differently, if she could tease, so could you.

“I know you want to fuck me. Are you scared you won’t be as good as Alexia? Are you scared you won’t make me come?”

Bingo.

You felt her movements falter, her fingers stopping for a second or two.

You continued. “Come on, stop teasing me. I can tell you know what you’re doing. And I have a feeling I know who you are, and I know you want to be the best. So show me.”

The thing is, you didn’t have a clue who she was, you just needed to say something that would rile anyone on your team up. And the three brunettes were definitely the type to strive for the best. So yeah, you played a little dirty, and it worked. Her fingers began to pick up pace, not as fast as you’d like, but it was still better than the teasing pace she had before. Maybe she liked to be spoken to?

“Fuck, your fingers are so-so good. Just like that. Please.” You begged.

Again, she picked up the pace, curling her fingers right on your g spot, the groan you let out was loud. Something she seemed to like, her hand gripped tighter on your thigh, pushing your legs wider. She drove her fingers deeper into your core, pulling out deep throaty moans from you as she finally fucked you the way you wanted. You could feel your pussy getting obscenely wetter, her fingers being swallowed by your cunt. That’s when you felt her body move over yours, not touching you completely but her hand was now by your head, holding herself up as her hips slotted between your own. Her thrusts became harder, her fingers dragging your walls perfectly.

“Yes, you’re so-good. So perfect.” You cried out.

You had never been able to climax just by penetration before, you always needed some kind of stimulation on your clit. So when you felt your body beginning to build that familiar sensation you was dazed as you felt your orgasm coming, and it was coming fast.

Her hips never stopped, she had stamina that even Alexia could envy, not once did she falter, keeping up the perfect rhythm of her hips. Her fingers hitting your sweet spots perfectly. That’s when you felt her lips on yours, pushing her tongue into your mouth. Her kisses were soft compared to the fingers in you, it blew your mind. She tasted like mint, her lips were soft but also knew what they wanted.

Your legs began to shake hard, your head flung back as you were approaching your second orgasm. It was strange feeling, you had never come like this and your body almost didn’t know what to do as your orgasm took over your body. You couldn’t hear the exact noise you made but it was loud. You couldn’t believe it, it was the first time you came with fingers and you didn’t even know who they belonged to. Your pussy pulsated hard around her beautiful, talented fingers, you tried to slow your breathing as best as you could. But you were completely wrecked.

“Fuck, oh- oh my god. I can’t feel….god!”

She slowly pulled out of you, wiping her wet fingers on your thigh. It was almost like you could feel her smugness, just from the wipe on your leg alone. And she had all the right to be, she just made you see stars. You were shocked to feel a small kiss at your clit, once again making your body jolt. You felt the bed dip, you could tell she came off the bed, leaving you alone. Your breathing was erratic as you tried to catch your breath.

Not long after a pair of lips was pressed against your cheek. “You came baby? Just from her hands?.” Alexia sounded giddy.

You felt a little shy to admit it, but Alexia obviously saw the whole thing. You was worried she might have been a little upset, Alexia hadn’t made you come just by penetration, and you didn’t want her to feel any type of way.

“I did. It was different. It was nice.” Your head wasn’t in the right frame of mind to come up with a decent sentence.

She came closer to your ear, before she spoke she made your shiver. “You looked so good, I loved watching her fuck you, making you moan like that. She’s talented isn’t she?”

“Fuck, Ale. Yes, so talented.”

You clearly had nothing to worry about.

She continued. “She told me that she knew you would beg she knew you would moan like a whore. She also knew you would be a brat.”

Alexia’s fingers were suddenly on your nipple pinching your sensitive skin.

“Fuuuuck.” You cried out.

Her voice was stern now. “So you still want to be a little brat? Hmm? You want to taunt our guest? I think this isn’t punishment enough, you’re clearly enjoying yourself too much.”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice cracking.

She let go of your nipple. “You will be.”

Your body shivered hard on the bed.

“You doing okay? What’s your colour?” Alexia’s voice was soft again.

“My colours green. I’m good.” You nodded.

You loved how easy Alexia could make you melt from her sexual deviant side to her loving caring side.

“Good. Let’s keep going.”

You nodded, already excited for what was next. You still couldn’t believe Alexia had set this up. You wondered about what the blonde was doing while you were tied up. Was she getting herself off? Or was someone else getting her off?

The music continued to play in the background. After just a minute, the dip came back on the bed. The same pair of hands on you, you felt her push your legs up, your feet planted on the mattress, spreading your legs wide. Thats when you felt something hit the inside of your thigh, your cunt throbbed at the thought of being filled.

You felt her shuffle closer, you could feel her lining up the strap against your lips. Your body was still coming down from your second orgasm of the night, but that wasn’t enough to stop whoever she was. She pushed her dick inside you until her hips were between your thighs, bottoming out inside of your pussy. The air escaped your lungs as you let out a loud gasp, you wasn’t expecting something as big as this. This clearly wasn’t one of your toys, and fuck did it take your breath away.

She didn’t wait around, her hips were moving in and out of you, her pace was fast and hard, pushing your body into the mattress. The toy was bigger than anything you’d had before, the stretch was a lot but it quickly turned into a painful pleasure. She leaned closer into you, her body just on top of your own, pushing deeper into your core. Even though you was already tide up her body pined you down, her hips thrusted deep into you, making you whimper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You groaned.

You wanted to think about who was fucking you like this, who was looking down at you, listening to you whimper and moan while she fucked you. Before you could even picture one of the brunettes you felt fingers gently wrap around your throat, slightly squeezing. Alexia held your neck all the time while she fucked you, it was definitely a turn on for you, you showed your appreciation with a low moan, the fingers gripping a little tighter at your noise.

This girl could fuck, her hips drove in and out of you rapidly, her pace was fast but deep, forcing you to cry out. This girl was definitely a more dominant lover, her mannerisms were more rough, but in the best way. You pictured each girl above you, driving their body into yours, you pictured Alexia’s face watching you be fucked by one of your team mates. If only you could see her.

She was clearly pushing for her own orgasm, using your body like her own personal sex toy. The sweat on your body was making the girl above you stick to your skin, she was working hard. You felt her movement falter for a second, then you felt it. A vibration sensation swept through your body, right from your core, causing every muscle in your body to jolt.

“Oh, my god!” You cried out.

This strap had a vibrator built in for the person wearing it, but you could still feel the sensation and fuck, was it good but it was almost becoming too much, your head spun from the pain and pleasure, you could feel a faint feeling of an orgasm in the bottom of your stomach. You wasn’t sure your body could go again, you didn’t want to tap out, but you needed something else.

“Please.” You mumbled.

Her hips didn’t stop, her grip on your neck was gone, stroking your skin lovingly instead.

You felt the girl above attach her lips to your neck, making you melt. As much as you loved being fucked senseless you clearly needed a little bit of tenderness. This was still new, and the darkness didn’t help, but the kisses definitely did.

You changed your mind once again on the girl above being a rougher lover, her hips slowed down again, still hitting deep and quick but not as rough. Her lips came to your mouth, pushing her tongue gently in, exploring you. Your head spun, her kisses were everything and more. It was a complete 360 from how she was before. She didn’t once stop kissing you, you had to keep catching air any chance you could. The lack of oxygen made you feel like you could pass out, and in all honesty you wouldn’t mind if you did die this way. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

Your clit was being pushed perfectly in this new angle, you could feel your orgasm approaching fast, once again crying out your pleasure. Her kisses never stopped, she was on your neck, face, collar bone, the top of your chest. Anywhere she could reach, driving you fucking insane. Her tongue stroking on your skin was what pushed you over. Nearly.

“No. You dont get to come. You don’t deserve it.” Alexia wasn’t as close as before but you still heard her. She sounded out of breath.

The whine you let out probably shocked the girl above as it even shocked you, but you couldn’t stop it. You were so close to tipping over the edge, your body was fighting for its life. You wanted to beg Alexia but you knew even the whine you let out would have annoyed her. You gritted your teeth and tried to ignore the build of your climax rising in the pit of your stomach.

Her hips started to pump a little quicker into you, then a little deeper. The new rhythm of her beautiful hips had you almost crying. You were trying to catch your breath as she chased her own orgasm. She pushed your hips down into the mattress, as you tried to take what she was giving you. You bit your bottom lip, urging your body to push past it.

You tried to hold back your whimpering as she kept up her pace, it was all too much again. She was making your body work harder than a training session. Alexia must have been able to tell you was struggling to hold on.

“Our guest is close. You can take a little more, I know you can.” Alexia’s voice was right next your ear, making you shiver.

Her voice was dripping with want, you could hear it so clearly, it made your head spin. You never thought you’d hear Alexia tell you to ‘take more’ from another woman. She knew you could take more, this type of sex wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before, but the not seeing made it difficult and maybe a little needy.

“Això és bebè. Et veus molt bé. Has estat una noia tan bona agafant tot això. Realment ets una petita puta..”

Even with the music she said it loud enough for you and the girl above to hear, and she must have liked her captains words, as her hips pushed just a fraction deeper, her hips stuttered inside you, once again pushing your sensitive clit almost to the point of painful. You felt her sit up, holding on to your legs, that’s when you heard a faint moan, but she was too far to recognise and the music was too loud. But you heard it.

You felt her body shake, she pushed herself into you harder. You could feel the final grind of her hips, as she used your body for every drop of her pleasure. She slowly pulled her dick out of you, you felt empty of the loss of feeling so full.

This was the second girl tonight to use your body for her own pleasure. The thought alone made your pussy throb.

Your whole body was on over drive, your arms began to ache, and of course Alexia could read your mind. The music became quieter, the rope on your wrist became loose, making your arms fall slightly, you were thankful for it, your arms had began to ache. A soft kiss pushed against your lips, lips you would know from anywhere.

Alexia lowered your arms in front of you, letting you stretch them out.

“It’s a shame you had to be a brat. Our guest has wanted to do that since you joined the team. She was more than willing when I asked her to join us. She wanted you to come together, but you had to ruin it.”

You groaned, feeling your clit wanting nothing more than that exact thing. But you felt guilty, you didn’t want to be a brat for Alexia, you wanted to show her you could be good for her and your guest. But if you knew Alexia, and you did. You wasn’t going to come for a while, you could hear it in her voice.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. Please let me be good for you.”

Alexia cradled your chin. “See, girls she can be good.” She chuckled.

She clearly wasn’t talking to you and from her words it wasn’t one girl. You felt your skin prick at the thought of Lucy, Mapi and Ona seeing you like this. It was the first time you were thankful for the blindfold.

“There’s more than one?” You tried to confirm.

“Is there?.” Alexia’s tone was teasing. She obviously wasn’t going to give you anything, you would just have to work it out as best as you could, but it had been difficult so far. You pouted, you couldn’t believe Alexia had gotten an idea like this, well, you could. You just couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

“Come baby, drink some water. What colour are you?”

You felt the bottle at your lips and drank.

“I’m green. I’m good.” You exhaled.

“Okay. I’m going to tie you back up, but you’re going on your front. Sí?”

“Okay.” You nodded, already excited for the next show. She helped you move forward, laying on your front. She stroked your back lovingly. You loved how Alexia could switch up her dominant side and softer side, she knew you were enjoying yourself but she could also tell you needed to feel her, a familiar touch. She tied your wrist back up, your hand now in front of you.

“Get on your knees bonita.”

You got on your knees, leaning yourself on your forearms as best as you could while being tied up. You felt the bed dip behind you, you could feel a body at your rear. Excitement rushed through your body at the thought of being fucked from behind. Though the thought of not coming was a head fuck. The bed then dipped in front of you, you felt skin brush past your knuckles. Was you about to be fucked by two girls?

Once again the music was loud in the room, you knew what that meant, you almost felt like Pavlov’s dog with how your body reacted.

Soft hands ran down your back, gently touching your skin, it made your body cover itself in goosebumps. Those same hands made their way to your arse, stroking your cheeks, still just as gentle. It was like she was touching porcelain glass with how lightly she touched you, like she was scared to break you. A small moan left your lips as the girl behind you slowly dipped a finger into your wet cunt. She pumped slowly, her other hand on on your back.

Another finger was added just as you felt a hand in your hair, you could feel it was the girl in front of you. The hands slowly guided your head down, on to her awaiting pussy. Your lips touched the already wet skin, your tongue automatically dipped into her folds. From the taste of her you could tell it was a different girl, she tasted just as good as the first girl, but you could feel on your tongue she was different.

You moaned as your tongue took a broad stroke through her wet folds, she kept one hand on your head, just feeling you. She slowly started to guide your head up and down, you kept your tongue out, letting her use your mouth to her desire.

You hadn’t realised the girl behind you had taken her fingers out of you, you were too caught up with working your mouth. You jolted as you felt the head of her dick pushing itself inside your cunt.

She pushed her dick inside your pussy, inch by inch, bottoming out until her own thighs kissed your own. The moan that dripped from your mouth sent a perfect vibration into the girl in front of you, making her push your head further between her legs. The girl behind you began to pump slowly, letting you adjust to the pressure of her dick.

You were being used by two girls, two of your friends, two of the three brunettes that you had fantasised about. You were in heaven.

“Please, I’m so close. Please.”

Alexia shouted ‘no’ from across the room, her voice sounded shakey, she was definitely fucking someone.

You were close to crying, your body was hot, your clit was begging to be touched, it was driving you crazy, your mind felt cloudy, you couldn’t think straight. But you just had to endure it.

The girl behind you picked up her pace, pumping her dick faster inside of you. Her strong thighs slapped the back of your cheeks, pushing your body further into the girl in front. You stayed like this for a while, you sucked and licked at the swollen clit in your mouth, while you were fucked hard from the back.

The girl infront began to buck her hips into your mouth, her hands held your head, chasing her orgasm as she fucked your face. She began let out small moans, but before you could figure it out the girl behind you began to thrust hard, throwing you of the girl in front. The hand on your back was now pushing your head into the pussy you were just eating.

You were trapped between the two bodies, as they had their way with you. Two different hands held your head down, keeping your mouth where she needed you. You then felt the thighs at your head begin to shake, you sucked on her clit, her juices dripping on your tongue as her thighs closed around your ears. The girl behind began to thrust quickly, her hand fingers gripped on your hips as you felt her rut behind you.

The two girls came, both body’s rocking against you, as your body was once again used for someone else’s pleasure. The girl behind you removed her dick, leaving you empty. The girl in front allowed you to clean her up from her juices, she even lifted your head for a deep kiss once she was done with you.

Once again you were left on the bed, your breathing deep and shallow as you tried to control your body. You wanted nothing more than to be allowed to come, that’s all you needed. But you didn’t get it your wish.

The night went on like this, each girl taking turns with you, you had definitely sucked, fucked, licked and tasted each girl tonight. Helping them get to their climaxes as your body could do nothing but take it.

And as you was moved around and put into different positions for each girls sexual desire, you had heard each brunette’s voice. You heard Mapi groan loud as she fucked your arse over the sofa arm chair. You heard Lucy’s voice as she came in your mouth, swearing in that unmistakable northern accent. You even heard Ona whimper when she rode on a strap that had been attached to your hips.

All while not being able to have your own orgasm.

By the 8th or 9th round you were exhausted, you could hardly keep your body up right. The throbbing between your legs was nothing you had ever felt before. Your body had been pushed to new heights. You laid on your back as you panted from the last face ride of the night. Your face covered in one of the brunettes wetness, dripping down your neck.

“Hola baby, how you feeling? What’s your colour?”

Hearing Alexia’s familiar voice brought you back, it was everything you knew, everything you loved. You never noticed just how beautiful her tone of voice was, her accent sounded extra thick.

“I’m green. So, so green. But I don’t think I can take anymore without coming.”

Alexia hummed. “I agree, you’ve been such a good girl. Our guest are very happy.” She stroked your cheek.

“How would you like to come cariño?”

“Anything, please!” You choked out, your voice was the most desperate you’d ever heard it.

She kissed your lips, so gently, her tongue caressed your lips, pulling the sounds she loved from you. She untied your wrist, kissing the skin of where you was tide.

“The blindfold stays on.” She said.

You nodded, you didn’t care you just wanted to be touched.

She guided you on your back, lying on the bed. You waited for a couple of minutes, waiting for what was next, you then felt the bed dip, from all directions.

Alexia’s hands opened your legs, the air hit your wet skin, you could feel every hair on your body stand to attention.

“Do not touch. They can touch you, you don’t touch them.” Alexia’s voice was in its complete dominant state.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. Alexia’s hands opened your legs further, giving her space for whatever she wanted. A pair of lips attached themselves to your strained nipple, sucking gently as another mouth was on the other nipple. The dirty groan you let out was deep and throaty, your chest vibrated.

Your hands stayed at their side like Alexia told you to do, you wanted so badly to reach out and touch but you had been good for so long, you wasn’t about to ruin it. A third mouth was on your lips, kissing you, sweeping her tongue over your lips, asking politely for entrance. You moaned as one of the girls on your nipples bit you playfully, the girl then thrusted her tongue inside your mouth.

That’s when you felt Alexia’s mouth on your pussy, you cried out as four different set of lips worshiped your body. You could tell Alexia was being gentle, she swept her tongue softly over your very, very sensitive clit. You felt like you were about to float away, their mouths were everywhere on you, sucking and licking your hot skin.

Alexia wrapped her lips around your clit and sucked, she moaned around your flesh, sucking and kissing every bit of you she could get her mouth on. You could feel your juices dripping down your cunt, soaking the sheets beneath you. You had never been this wet before, you had never felt your body reacting in this way. You felt your orgasm already at the cusp, your hips gently rocked into Alexia’s talented mouth. Your voice was almost gone as your body began to shake, the deep moan that escaped your throat was down right dirty.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” Alexia rasped, and quickly attached her lips back to your clit.

“I can’t, I ca- fuck!” You screamed. Your moans bounced off the walls in the room.

You almost blacked out, your body was floating as you finally came, you gripped the sheets instead of Alexia’s head, too scared to incase she moved her beautiful mouth away. Your hips bucked, but firm hands pressed your hips down. The lips on your body never stopping, kissing and caressing every piece of you. You felt Alexia’s tongue lapping up your juices, as your body finally returned to earth. You could feel the tears prickling your eyes, you wasn’t sure if it was from the pure pleasure or the raw emotion of your body having to hold so much pressure from your final release.

You laid there for a few moments, catching your breath, your chest heaving hard. You felt the bed become empty as the girls removed themselves from your body.

“You’re so perfect, bebita.” Alexia kissed your thighs, but you barely felt her.

“Our guest are leaving now, what do you say?”

“Thank you.” You rasped.

“Good girl. Don’t move until I say.”

You were nowhere close to moving, your muscles were weak, everything felt heavy. You heard some shuffling in the background as what you assumed was the girls leaving. Then what sounded like the front door shutting. You drifted off, in and out of sleep, until Alexia’s lips pressed against your forehead, waking you.

“Come bebita.”

She untied the blindfold from your eyes, you winced as you saw some light. But Alexia had made sure to turn every light off, every curtain closed, knowing your eyes would be sensitive. She picked you up bridal style and walked you into the bathroom, candles were lit everywhere, a hot steamy bubble bath was waiting for you. She helped you in and washed your body, massaging your arms of the aches from being bounded.

“Did you enjoy yourself baby?” She kissed the back of your neck.

“So much, Ale. I still can’t believe it. I just wish I could have seen them.”

She chuckled right next to your ear making your skin shiver.

“You were so good, maybe we can do it again if you’re not bratty. They really enjoyed you.”

“Yes! But no blind fold.”

She quirked her eyebrow at you. “I decide that. Rest up, relax your body.” She kissed your neck.

She left you to relax, changing the wet sheets. Once you began to prone up she helped you out of the bath, and into a set of pjs. You decided on ordering dinner as you were both worn out. You slept like a log that night.

It was the next morning, you walked into the changing the rooms, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of seeing the three brunettes after they had fucked you senseless.

But when you were finally face to face with the girls you felt like you had dreamt the whole thing, none of the girls acted any differently towards you. The training session was like any other day, you got on with your sets in the gym, then into the group training.

It wasn’t until you had a training match that you were brought back to last night. It always got physical during these matches, so when you felt a strong body pressed up against you like it did last night, you faltered. You looked up to see Lucy’s green eyes burning into you, a small smile on her face.

A little later in the game you felt familiar hands on your hips as you got ready for a penalty. You looked down to see those tattooed hands belonging to Mapi, you then felt her breath right on your neck as she dragged you back against her core. You missed the penalty completely. Finally it was near the end of the game, you had played badly due to your mind being in the gutter. But of course it had to finish with Ona cramping her leg next to you, you quickly rubbed her thigh trying to help the girl. She whimpered just like she did last night when your head was between her legs.

By the end of the game you could feel wetness polling between your legs, and all of the girls watched you knowingly. Devilish smirks plastered their faces as they watched you struggle to get to grips. It made your skin hot, your cheeks flushed. If only you could have seen the way they looked at you last night.

You were definitely going to throw the blind fold away when you got home.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Neighbor Pt. 3

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt hears her come home from a date, and interrupts when he hears it go south.

Words: just above 2k

A/N: So this series is basically different excerpts, so the chapters may not fall right into each other if that makes sense... so here's another night of them being neighbors! Hope you enjoy :)

Genres: light angst, comfort, fluff

Part 2

Matt came home to a quiet and cold apartment. After jiggling his keys in the lock a few times, his musty old door finally opened, and he was met with the cool draft that came in from his even older windows. Pushing the door closed with his back, he sighed deeply and dropped his suitcase on the floor. He hung his head low. 

Today was long. Too many papers at the office, too many people to talk to… or maybe, the night before, he spent too much time out as Daredevil and barely got any sleep. Or maybe he had trouble falling asleep. Matt wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. He was finally home. 

It seemed like everyone else in the building had livelier apartments than he did—he could smell spaghetti from an apartment below him, with jazz music playing in the background. Another apartment had children laughing at a cartoon. Another one was having guests over for dinner. Even Fran, the apartment’s snoop, had brownies in the oven. Of course—it was Friday night, and people like them had plans. 

Their apartments were all warm and inviting. But not his. It was cold and empty, and nothing played in the background—only these heightened sounds in his ears and his thoughts. His ever so dreadful thoughts. 

But what about hers?

He cocked his head against the door to listen closely to her apartment. What was she doing? Nothing seemed to be going on. No tea was on the kettle. Not even the sound of pages being turned in a book. She wasn’t home. 

Matt furrowed his brows at this—he knew she had the morning shift today because they had their usual morning greeting and walked each other out. Part of him was disappointed he couldn’t share his lonesome with her, but the other part felt guilty because, of course, she had plans. While Matt was reclusive and preferred the dark, she was friendly, inviting, and liked to be out. Why would she waste her radiance on being locked up in her apartment? 

So, Matt did what he normally did. Instead of being at home alone with his thoughts, he changed into his Daredevil gear and waited on his rooftop for something, anything, to call for him. Eventually, it did, but something was missing tonight. 

***

He wasn’t out for long. 

He was missing punches, throwing them too soon, otherwise just overall thrown off. Something was off. After stopping a robbery, and nearly taking a bullet to his shoulder, Matt tapped out. He sulked in his gear all the way home and stomped down the steps from his roof, back to his cold and empty apartment. 

It was nearly midnight. Some people in the building were awake, and others getting ready for bed. And still, she wasn’t home. 

Is she okay? 

Matt pushed any thought of worry away. Pushed any thought or feeling of attachment away. After all, she was just his neighbor. His neighbor who sometimes said hello to him, who sometimes dropped a book off in braille for him. Not his emotional support neighbor. Just a neighbor, whom Matt couldn’t keep himself from listening to her calming presence. 

So what if he liked her anyway, just a little bit? 

She would never get involved with a complicated man like him, who held so many secrets and even more baggage. 

Plus, they were neighbors. It could neverwork out. 

Matt immediately stripped himself of his Daredevil gear and stepped into a hot, steaming shower, to wash these thoughts of her away. Wash this awful night away. Wash the dried blood on his skin away. 

He lay in his bed, silk sheets sprawled over his half-naked body. He had his hands behind his head on his pillow, senseless eyes staring up at the ceiling. The building was winding down, finally. No loud conversations, no ovens beeping. Just people getting into bed and soft snores. 

And then, he heard it. 

The front door of the building unlocked. Footsteps make their way up the stairs. That familiar and therapeutic scent of warm vanilla filled his senses. Finally, she was home. 

But she wasn’t alone.

“I had a good time tonight,” he heard her say on her way up the stairs. Heavy footsteps followed closely behind her. Matt listened to her heartbeat and furrowed his brows—she wasn’t telling the truth. 

“Me too,” a smooth, masculine voice said. “Are you sure you don’t want to have some coffee?”

“Oh yeah,” she said nervously, masked by a high-pitched tone. She was being overly nice. Cautious. “We had so much food at that restaurant. I’m stuffed. I’m honestly ready for bed,” she laughed, again, a quiver in her laugh. Matt sat up on his elbows as he listened closely. 

“Me too,” the man repeated, in a tone Matt didn’t like. Conniving. Entitled. There was an underlying message. 

“Well, here’s my place,” she announced, placing a hand on her door. Matt noticed she often forgot to grab her keys when she was nervous. Matt had made her nervous that one morning, but nothing like this. She was… uncomfortable now. She wanted this man to leave. “You didn’t have to walk me up.”

And there it is. 

“I wanted to,” he said, leaning against her door, blocking her from the lock. “I thought maybe you could show me the inside.”

“I, uh,” she stammered, fidgeting for her keys unsuccessfully. “I don’t know, it’s late…”

In an instant, Matt throws on a shirt, gray sweatpants, and his dark glasses and hurriedly walks to his door to meet her and this stranger in the hallway. This stranger who won’t leave her alone, who takes the hint and ignores it, this stranger who’s making his neighbor uncomfortable. 

Her heart leaps when she sees Matt suddenly coming outside his door, brown hair disheveled and a smile on his face. 

“Matt!” She exclaimed. “I’m sorry, was I loud?”

“Not at all,” Matt smiled through gritted teeth. “Just thought I forgot my mail. That’s all. What are you up to?”

“Um…”

“We’re on a date,” the man states plainly. Matt pretends to be shocked, that he didn’t know someone else was there. He feigns surprise and lifts his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” Matt said, “Sorry. I didn’t realize.” 

“There’s no mail,” the man said curtly, clearly upset that Matt interrupted whatever it was he had planned. “You can go back into your apartment now.” An icy tone. 

Matt took a step forward, eyebrows tightening, jaw clenched. He wants to tell this man that he can break every bone in his body. He wants to tell him that if he ever hears him in this building again, he’ll make him beg for mercy. He listens to the man's body muscles tightening, his heart rate is fast in anger. Whatever his plans with her were, they weren’t pure.

But Matt remembers she’s here, witnessing this, scared. He doesn’t want to be whatever that man is. He wants to show her he cares enough about her to walk out of his apartment at midnight and save her from whatever is happening. 

So, instead of answering the man with a threat, he looks in her direction—concern etched in his expression, care in his voice. 

“Is everything all right?” Matt asks her. 

She shakes her head, mistakenly. She quivers a weak “no.” 

The man stood menacingly over her. If she didn’t open her door for him, he’d manipulate her into doing it eventually. And Matt was interrupting his plan, he knew it. The man didn’t like that. Well, Matt wasn’t going anywhere until he left her alone.

He walks up to Matt, close enough so they’re standing face to face. Matt can smell the rum on his breath, which reeked with bad intentions. His hands turned to fists as the man began to speak whatever bullshit threat he tried to come up with. But Matt cuts him off.

“If you don’t leave this apartment in the next thirty seconds, I will have Detective Brett Mahoney and the entire 15th Precinct outside for your arrest for harassment and intimidation. Or worse—I’ll have the apartment snoop named Fran come out and scare you herself. Have I made myself clear?” Matt spoke through gritted teeth, keeping his voice calm and even. 

The man was looking at Matt like he really had the nerve—and he did. She stood there, watching this all unfold, wanting nothing more than to lock herself in her apartment and shut her phone off for a week. 

He stared Matt down, trying to find any glare behind his dark red glasses. All he saw was his angry expression in the reflection. How can he be intimidating to a blind man? Matt is blind to an extent, but he’s not blind to people with malicious intentions. 

All he does is scoff at Matt. He turns on his heel and looks at her as she cowers into the corner of her door. Matt takes a step forward immediately to stand between him and her. He scoffs again. 

“Didn’t know you were fucking your neighbor,” he spat before bounding down the stairs, slamming the door behind him. 

Matt stood for a moment, listening to the man curse to himself outside, kick a random can on the ground, and walk himself down the street before entering a taxi and returning himself to whatever hell he came from. It wasn’t until Matt was sure he was gone from the vicinity that he heard a loud stomping again, booming in his ears, that he realized it was her scared, frantic heartbeat coming from behind him. 

Matt turned around to face her, taking a step back to give her some space. “Hey,” he cooed. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” she lied, placing a hand over her heart in an attempt to calm herself down. “Well, now I am. Goodness… he wouldn’t take a hint.” 

Matt sighed. “I think he was ignoring them on purpose. Who was he, anyway?”

“Some guy I went on a first—and last—date with,” she answered sheepishly. “I didn’t even want to go. My friends encouraged me to get myself out there. Clearly, it was a mistake.” 

“I’m sorry he treated you like that. You don’t deserve that,” Matt replied in a soft tone, your usual calm heart beating frantically still. “You should never do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Even if it’s as simple as a first date.”

“I know,” she said, defeated like she’d told herself this before. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come out. Thank you, Matt.” 

“No need to thank me,” Matt said, shaking his head. “That’s what neighbors are for.”

She smiled softly. “You’ll save me from my next bad date?”

Matt laughed, glad that she seemed to calm down and was back to her friendly, unafraid self. “It’s late,” he said softly, deflecting from her joke. He didn’t want her to go on another bad date—she didn’t deserve that. But he also didn’t want her to go on a date with someone other than him. Which was why he was about to wish her goodnight. 

“It is,” she yawned. “Well, maybe I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Matt whispered. “Don’t forget to lock your door.”

She giggled, already letting herself inside. “I won’t.” 

“Hey,” she said suddenly, half inside her apartment, half out. From this alone, Matt was looped in her scent. “You don't think he will come back, do you? Now he knows where I live.”

“He won’t,” Matt shook his head, “and if he does, I will deal with it. Don’t worry. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you again, Matt.” 

She closed her door softly, and Matt waited until he heard the lock click before he went back inside his apartment. 

Laying in his bed, he listened as she crawled into her bed in her apartment. Her heartbeat told him she was still awake. When he heard it slowed down, signaling she had fallen asleep, he closed his eyes and drifted into a slumber himself. 

TAGS: @mattmurdocksstarlight @yentroucnagol @danzer8705 @allllium @i-marvel-bitch @mattsgirlsworld @babygrlmurdock @writtenbyred

[roronoacherries]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘢 𝘻𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘧𝘵. 𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘺

3.404 words — inspired by anon request

content: nsfw, fem. reader, slightly non-con, unprotected, degradation, implied daddy/breeding kink, choking; y/n cheats on zoro with luffy and the swordsman decides that if she wants to be a slut, they can share her.

note: this has been in my drafts for too long i don't even know if it's good but i tried. the characterization and plot are terrible but i'm just tryna get fucked by the captain and his first mate, okay?

luffy would understand. he would. all you needed to do was tell him; tell him that your heart belonged to zoro, that you were his in every sense of the word. he’d drop the subject without hesitation. 

he was betraying his first mate without knowing it, all by your cause – the thought weighed on you as you lay breathless in the captain’s arms. the straw hat didn’t know any better – it was on you to let him down, to deny his indecent proposal. but when you felt him pressed against your backside, slurring as he whispered crudities in your ear, all you   do was think with your heat, too tipsy to listen to your head or your heart. 

the first time should have been the last time. you swore to yourself that it would be when you came to your senses… but didn’t zoro constantly reproach everyone about it being the duty of the crew to fulfill the captain’s orders, regardless of what they may be? and if the captain wanted you on your knees for him, his fingers tangled in your hair as he used you to chase his own pleasure, who were you to deny him of it? if he wanted you to sit on his face while he feasted on you, insatiable from between your thighs, what right did you have to say no? 

he was your captain; it was your obligation as a straw hat to obey his orders. all he needed to do was say the word and he could have you – whether he wanted you to ride him, to watch you whimper incoherently as you bounced on his cock, a sweaty, needy mess; to be balls deep inside you, fucking you mercilessly into the mattress, gripping your ass tightly as you moaned incessantly against a pillow. 

what zoro didn't know wouldn't hurt him, you reasoned. and this was the last time. you promised yourself you'd tell luffy the truth next time – but time and time again, you couldn't bring yourself to deny your captain. it was too intoxicating, the way luffy could fuck you senseless, using your cunt as his plaything – it was too good to give up. 

you loved zoro — he treated you like a goddess, all but worshiping you in bed; he knew your body better than you did and could prove it in a thousand different ways. there was no one who could make you feel like he did, no one who could please you more than he could. the swordsman was a passionate lover; the captain was a selfish one. so it should have been enough for you – it should have been easy to reject luffy’s advances if all he did was use you for his own pleasure, but you liked being used. 

you tried to make sense of it, to find reason in your wrongs, but to try and be sensible with luffy’s cock hard against your ass was futile. 

“yes, captain”; “please, captain”; “fuck me, captain,” we’re the only coherent thoughts you could form when he came to you, his eyes heavy with lust — the guilt and shame of it all only weighing on you after committing your sins. 

and it was guilt-ridden that you always made your way back to zoro, begging to get on your knees for him. you'd please him in all the ways you knew best, never letting him return the favor. 

“just let me make you feel good, baby.”

but the swordsman was no fool. he knew that if you were coming to him, asking to suck him off for nothing in return, it wasn't because you wanted to be a good little slut for him. he wasn't blind to the weakness in your step after your disappearances or oblivious to the lingering scent of sex on your skin when you came to him. nor did he miss the hunger in luffy's eyes whenever you strolled past him.

no, but zoro didn't think of confronting you about it. if you wanted to be a whore, he'd let you be one — though not without reminding you who your sweet cunt really belonged to. 

you could spread your legs for whoever you desired, it wouldn’t change that he had you wrapped around his finger. all it ever took was one look and he could have your heart racing; he never had to say a word, only to meet your eyes…to absentmindedly drag his fingers along your thigh as he took a swig of sake and you’d stumble over your words, excusing yourself from the dinner table, eagerly awaiting him below the crow’s nest. 

“how’s my girl doing?” zoro murmured against your lips, returning the kiss you greeted him with before pulling away, his hands resting on your waist.

“never leave the ship without me again. i missed you,” you pouted, pressing your lips to his once more. wrapping your arms around him, you dragged your lips along his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “someone might see…” zoro warned quietly, though not pulling away from you either.

“don’t care.” with pleading eyes, you looked up at the swordsman. “i need you.” 

“‘s that right?” the swordsman teased, feigning a smirk in spite of the tightness he felt in his chest. he’d already decided this would be the last night he spent with you; why, then, did your words make him falter in his resolve? why did his subconscious hold out for the hope that in asserting that you didn’t care if this relationship was no longer a secret, you were choosing him? 

he forced the thought out of his mind. what did it matter, if the damage had already been done. he met your eyes, those he’d lost himself in so many times before. “how badly?”

“so badly,” you sighed, holding his face in your hands. giving into you, zoro closed the gap between you with a feverish kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, your body aching so desperately for his touch that if he wanted to, you’d let him have you on the deck. 

“hold on,” he said, breathlessly, placing a hand on your waist as he stepped toward the ladder of the crow’s nest. you held on to him tightly as he climbed, resting your head comfortably against his shoulder, a soft smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him. “i love you, zoro,” you whispered, closing your eyes and missing the way zoro’s widened at your words. 

love. 

the word had come easily to you, as if you were worthy of loving him. you tried to push the thought out of your mind, planting soft kisses along zoro’s cheek as your lips made their way back to his the moment you entered the crow’s nest. 

you kept your legs locked around him as he gently rest your back against the floor, rolling your hips against his fervently. “please. zoro.” 

was it the guilt that made you so desperate to have him? 

“so goddamn needy for me, aren’t ya?”

the desire to forget that you’d let someone else stand between your thighs? 

“i need you, ‘ro…” 

“who’s this pretty cunt belong to?” zoro pressed himself against you, spreading your legs further, the throbbing of his length alone making you feel weak. 

“it’s yours, zoro. all yours.” you didn’t deserve him. 

“y’ hear that, captain?” 

you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight in your chest as zoro stepped back. his gaze stayed fixed on you as you failed to hide the panic and shame on your face. you had no right to look away, to avoid seeing the hint of pain that hid in his eyes — the pain you had provoked — but you feared that if you didn’t turn away, you wouldn’t be able to fight back your tears. and you had no right to cry. 

your eyes met luffy’s who stared back at you blankly from where he sat, his legs spread apart, arms resting against his knees, before looking at zoro, “didn’t seem that way when i was fucking her.” 

“zoro,” you struggled to speak, knowing it would be useless to. “i can explain.”

“and what’s there to explain?” the swordsman gripped your chin, his tone cold but calm as he forced you to face him.  “that you’re a filthy slut?”

there was nothing you could say, nothing you could do but stare back at him in guilt and take his anger. “that you’ve been lettin the captain fuck you whenever he wants like you’re his toy?”

“i’m sorry,” you spoke in a whisper, knowing your words could fix nothing. zoro was right, after all. 

“guess one man isn’t enough for you.” he removed his hand from your face before turning his back to you, not bearing the sincere look of regret and heartbreak in your eyes. despite the coldness in his demeanor, he had still held you with the same gentleness as always. 

“that’s alright. if you want to be a whore, we can share. ain’t that right, luff?” you looked at the two in confusion, certain that you must have misheard. luffy’s eyes were on you now, eyes alight with a hunger that reminded you of the dripping sensation between your thighs from moments ago. they couldn’t be thinking…

“why don’t you start with her, captain.” zoro took a seat across from you, leaning back and spreading his legs as he stared down at you still on your knees. “go on, y/n. show the captain what a good girl you are.” he taunted. 

your attention turned back to luffy and you opened your mouth to protest, to beg zoro for forgiveness but all words were lost on you as you found yourself at eye-level with your captain’s protruding boner. even through his shorts, the sight was enough to make you hold back a whimper. 

but you couldn’t. not like this. what kind of person would that make you?

“show me what a little slut you are, y/n.” zoro smirked. you felt your heat pulsate at his words. morality and reason told you one thing, but your body – the drool pooling in your mouth, the throbbing between your legs, the burning sensation of your skin aching to be touched – told you another. 

“c’mon, y/n, don’t be shy. ‘t feels so good when you have my cock in your mouth,” luffy coaxed. face hot with shame, you slowly tugged luffy’s shorts down, his thick length swollen red; you spared a glance at zoro while luffy’s hands gently grasped your hair, noticing his hand palming his own length through his pants. 

“put that mouth to good use now,” zoro spoke, his voice deep and commanding. 

obediently, you took luffy’s cock in your hand, squeezing gently as you licked and sucked softly at the tip. you looked up at the captain, admiring briefly the way his breath hitched, mouth agape as his eyes shut in pleasure. but luffy wasn’t one to let you tease or take him slowly; he was impatient and rough, and though you’d expected it, the feel of his hand pushing you forward suddenly still caused your eyes to tear. 

“she’s good, ain’t she luff?” the pair admired the sight of you, cheeks flushed, watered eyes staring up helplessly, mouth stuffed with luffy’s cock. “so good,” luffy slurred through quiet grunts. “t’s like her mouth was made just for this.”

“…and i bet the whore’s dripping wet,” zoro thought out loud. you could have sworn you heard a low moan escape his lips. “fuck, i need a taste.” 

your eyes widened at his words and a whimper definitely left your lips then, provoking a thrust from your captain that made certain tears fell from your eyes. 

you felt zoro behind you, his hands firmly grasping your ass after lifting your skirt. he didn’t bother to remove your panties, licking through the already-soaked fabric. you fought in vain to hold back the moans this sensation arose, evoking a slew of curses from luffy. you couldn’t keep from digging your fingers into his thighs, eyes weeping as you feel him deep against the back of your throat. 

if you could have, you would’ve pouted when zoro pulled back; though he only did so to tug your underwear down with his teeth, making his way back to your cunt slowly, leaving a trail of kisses along the inside of your thighs. you could swear that no other man knew how to use his mouth as well as the swordsman. and, god, did he love to use it on you, his cock throbbing as he grew intoxicated on the taste of you. 

you knew you couldn’t last long – you never did when zoro had a say – and you could feel your legs begin to shake as the swordsman spread your legs, giving his tongue a better entry. if it weren’t for his hands squeezing your ass so tightly they were bound to leave a mark, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up. 

“shit. let me finish inside her, zoro…” luffy grunted and you couldn’t help but whine as he pulled out and zoro obliged, pulling away, leaving you so close to coming. his hands left your ass, but not without one coming down again with a rough slap. “what’re you thinking, pretty little slut? want the captain to stuff you full?”

“please,” you begged, nodding desperately as you stared up at luffy, dumbfucked and doe-eyed. the straw hat wasted not a second shoving his cock deep within you, his pace as selfish as ever as he sought only his own release. 

“she’s so fucking wet. shit feels so good,” luffy huffed, a grin tugging at his lips as he left you breathless. you couldn’t help but love the way he stretched you and the merciless pace with which he pounded into you. he was undoubtedly a selfish lover who knew no restraint, overwhelming your senses without remorse. 

“luffy, ‘m so close,” you moaned, your voice needier than you intended it to be; every inch of your body felt like it was on fire, your walls tightening around luffy as his cock pulses deep inside your wet heat.

“i’ll fill you up and make you come so good if you call me something else…” he teased, ecstatic at the sight of you whimpering under him. you didn’t 

“captain- fuck. please, captain.”

“you sound so pretty when you call me that,” luffy praised, pressing his lips to your cheek before quickening his reckless pace. his eyes shut in bliss and his breathing grew heavier as he reached his high, ​​the feeling of his hot cum pumping into you more than enough to push you over the edge. 

“thank you, captain.” you mumbled, a weak and whimpering mess. 

“thank you, y/n. you’re a sweet little slut.” luffy left a trail of kisses along your cheek as he slipped out of you, your pussy dripping with his seed, but even in your fucked out state you turned away when his lips came too close to yours. despite everything you’d done – all of the times you’d let luffy fuck you senseless – you’d never let him kiss you. that was, however small and insignificant, the one thing you wouldn’t take from zoro. 

this detail was not lost on the swordsman, who moved from where he’d sat admiring you drunk on luffy’s cock to press his lips to yours hungrily. it was far from a romantic kiss, but something carnal and possessive; a claim that you were still, and would always be, his own – even if he decided he wanted nothing to do with you. 

you could feel his hard cock pulsing against your thigh. “don’t think you’re done yet,” he huffed, pressing himself further against you before releasing his thick length from its constraints, leaking with pre and flushed red with the need to feel your walls tightly around him. “let’s put on a good show for the captain.” 

there was little more you could do than stifle a moan and nod pathetically in response. you didn’t know if you could take him, still far too sensitive from luffy, but you desperately wanted to feel his pretty cock inside you nonetheless. 

zoro pressed his tip against you and you groaned at the sensation. slowly, he pressed himself further into you though still without giving you the pleasure of feeling him stretch you completely. you wanted to beg him to move faster, but you were afraid all you would be able to do is mumble incoherences. regardless, you knew zoro was well aware of your desperation; the swordsman always knew exactly what your body desired, often before you knew yourself. 

a smirk spread on his lips as he leaned forward, biting gently at your earlobe. “no one can fuck you like i can.” he whispered. 

threat or gentle reminder, you weren’t given time to process zoro’s words before he thrust roughly into you, bottoming out without warning. zoro took only a moment to indulge in the familiar feeling of your soaking cunt clenched around him, hissing at the pleasure, before thrusting into you at a pace rivaling the captain’s in ruthlessness. 

the swordsman, however, was more precise, more intentional with his movements. he rolled his hips against yours, purposefully hitting all the places he knew would draw out the most sinful whimpers from your lips. 

his hands, too, moved along your body, touching you in ways that consumed your senses; cupping your breasts in his hands, toying with your nipples; inching one hand slowly down your torso as it found its way to your clit while the other moved to your neck, not applying any pressure but making your breath hitch anyway. no, he knew to wait until he felt your walls squeeze around him after his cock took a couple of rough hits against your favorite spot; until you let out a guttural moan cut short by his fingers tightening around your throat. 

“how’s my babygirl feel?” zoro hummed, pulling you into his arms as he repositioned you both so that you were seated on his lap. “think you can fuck yourself on my cock like a pretty little whore?” 

part of you wanted to shake your head, but you were too close to your climax to argue. holding onto zoro, his face buried in your chest as nibbled and sucked on your chest, you moved your hips against his, slowly despite yearning for the intensity of the swordsman’s thrusts. 

“look ‘t how you’ve got luffy fucking his fist just watching you. it’s no wonder he couldn’t keep his hands off a slut like you,” zoro said, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he left a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. 

“zoro, ‘m close,” you whimpered, a tight sensation growing in your abdomen as you bounced on his cock inconsistently, fighting to keep your thighs from giving out. 

“ride it out, baby, you’re doing so well.” zoro held your waist for support, restraining himself from fucking the lights out of you. if you couldn’t come on your own then that would be part of your punishment. 

“please, daddy, let me cum with you.”

you knew well that this word would flip a switch within the swordsman; that he would groan at the sight of your eyes pleading him to fuck you as you halted your movements. you knew well that his eyes would darken and he’d press your back against the floor again as he pushed your thighs up to your chest, thrusting into you hard as he neared his high. 

“fine. in that case, you’re gonna take every last drop of daddy’s cum. got it?” 

you nodded desperately, wanting to feel him empty himself inside you, shoving his cock into you mercilessly to make sure you didn’t let any of it drip out. 

“fuck. you might be a dirty slut but this pretty pussy’s still all mine,” zoro groaned, giving his last few thrusts before pressing his lips to yours. you held him close, legs wrapped around him, your body aching at the mere thought of him pulling out. 

he was right; no one could fuck you like he could – no one could make love to you like he could. but you’d been too much of a whore to think with your head (or your heart, for that matter) instead of your cunt. and you’d have to let go, sooner than later.

─────────────────────────────

taglist: @zorobraun @maaarshieee @lyriczhou @tinkywinky27 @dimimyth @gaby-chwan @tk6uro @zoros-4th-sword @idiotlittleme @zoronnoa

masterlist | taglist

[thebramblewood]

Caleb finally eats some good food and hears some hard truths. Now shall we join him on a trip down memory lane? 👀

Previous / Next

Grace: Stop snacking! You’ll ruin your appetite.

Caleb: Oh, how I wish that were true.

Grace: I don’t know how you can stand to eat those things raw.

Caleb: By necessity. I’m afraid I still lack any culinary finesse.

Grace: They’re certainly a finicky fruit. Nothing that can’t be fixed with a sprinkling of magic, though.

-

Caleb: Exquisite as usual, Grace.

Grace: I’ll trust your taste. Even cooked, I don’t quite have the constitution for the stuff.

Caleb: And for that you should be grateful.

Now, I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to lately.

Caleb: Well… [heaves weary sigh] How much time do you have?

-

Grace: So let me get this straight. You turned her, you passed her off as dead, you dumped her unconscious body in a graveyard, and you haven’t spoken to her since?

Caleb: [mutters weakly] I wrote her a letter.

Grace: Caleb, no! You’re even more dramatic in writing. You probably scared the poor girl to death. And now she’s out there all alone!

Caleb: [defensively] I’d never done it before, and there was no time to plan. I left her some things…

Grace: You know the literature frontwards and backwards! The sire/newborn relationship is vital to the development-

Caleb: It seemed more important to protect her from Lilith.

Grace: [softly] The best way to protect her would be to leave Lilith in the dust. You managed it once.

Caleb: Which ended so well.

Grace: What happened to Morgyn wasn’t your fault, but you used it to justify going back. You deserve better.

Caleb: The difference between us, Grace, is I’m not sure I deserve anything at all.

Grace: God, you and your eternal self-loathing! You’ve risen above what she tried to turn you into. You have more humanity than almost anyone I know. Why can’t you extend a little compassion to yourself?

Caleb: Because I failed to protect the person I loved when it mattered most! Yet I was able to save this girl I barely know. It doesn’t make sense.

Grace: Some things are just senseless, Caleb. There was nothing anyone could have done. I hate how they went out as much as you do. But the Sages had been staving off death for decades. They were vulnerable despite their power, and the universe was eager to take them. This girl is young, full of potential. Frankly, I’m not sure you have moral ground to stand on with your sister or anyone else if you don’t help her.

-

Grace: You aren’t upset with me, are you?

Caleb: Of course not. You never mince words, and I never take your advice lightly.

Grace: I hope you’ll come by again soon. Emilia and Tomax would love to see you.

Caleb: [noncommittal shrug] They were always more Morgyn’s friends than mine.

Grace: That may have been true at first, but we all grew quite fond of you. I know we didn’t come up with much before, but we could always start looking into cures again if-

Caleb: That’s a conversation for another time. Good night, Grace.

Grace: [crestfallen] Good night.

[miguelsslvt]

miguel o'hara x cheshire cat! spider! reader drabble

word count: 580

TW: angst, fluff, literally makes no sense

A/N: basically as i'm writing a goth girl! reader smut, i was listening to the playlist 'alice by heart' and i just thought of a cheshire cat! spider! reader comforting a lost in grief miguel? i dunno, it probs dont even make sense. but maybe when i'm free next i'll write a smut fic of miguel going to wonderland to capture an anomaly and she ran into cheshire cat who offers him some 'distractions'? ;) anyways posting goth girl! reader smut soon!!! welcome to the club!! ^^

y/n l/n. alias? cheshire spider. from earth-444, also known as 'wonderland'. you were a skilled spider, but very irritating to miguel. he had allowed you into spider society purely for your good agility and strength. agility of a cat, powers of a spider. and the fact that you could disappear and reappear whenever you please was useful too.

on a day you wanted to bug and annoy miguel, you walked in at a bad time. he was looking through past images and videos of his daughter.

'..who's that?' you asked, as miguel's eyes widened in shock and anger. 'get out.' he said bluntly. 'no. who is that?' you asked. 'get out cheshire!' miguel snapped. 'no miguel i want to know who that is.' 'didn't curiosity ever kill the cat?!' 'tell me.' you snapped back. 'i'm sick to death of you cheshire! you just dk nothing but bug everyone, i'm sick to death!!' miguel yelled angrily, as you looked completely unphased. in fact, you smiled.

'looks like i hit a soft spot.' you said, smirking. you disappeared suddenly, your smiling disappearing last until it first reappeared beside the current video of miguel and his daughter playing together. '..y'know i'm actually good with grief?' you said. miguel raised an angry eyebrow at that. 'what?' he said, confused slightly. 'what, you think none of us cared when alice left us?' you said, raising an eyebrow. '..that's nothing compared to my pain.' miguel spat coldly. 'senseless, heartless. you won't ever give this girl's soul up?' you asked, tilting your head, miguel gave up arguing. he sighed, frustrated. '..my daughter. gabriella. i..i killed her.' miguel said quietly.

you looked down, nodding as you listened. '..was it a multiversal collapse?' you asked, as miguel nodded, looking down. '..some things fall away. you just have to accept them.' you said. 'how am i supposed so accept something so devastating?' miguel asked, sounding offended. '..just cry and it's a crisis. if you let your grief sink in, you'll be able to move forward. losing a loved one is incredibly hard, the mock turtles told me all about that, but you're living in shock here. your heart is cold. how can you protect the multiverse if you're so cold and distant on yourself, let alone your team-mates?' you said, raising an eyebrow.

miguel was shocked. for once, what you said made, some sort of sense. no mockery, no jokes, no riddle. did you genuinely want to help him..?

'i may not know how you feel,, but i'm sure that i can try to help you out of this rut.' you smiled softly. '..why are you so.. different?' miguel asked wearily. 'you're so mischievous, so snarky and sneaky, why?' miguel asked. 'hm.. i suppose that's how i was raised. wonderland is very different to nueva york.' you stated, sitting on his desk table.

'you mustn't grow up, you mustn't disobey the queen, you mustn't be late for tea..' you rambled, before smiling again. 'you mustn't hide within your shell of grief.' that caught miguel off guard. he let out a small chuckle.

'you're right, wonderland is very different to nueva york.' he said, looking down. you two sat in silence for a few moments, but it was.. comforting. the silence spoke thousands of words. it was a.. good silence. miguel hadn't heard of a 'good silence' in a while.

'..maybe you could come visit wonderland?' you offered, smirking. 'no way, cheshire.' miguel replied, breaking a small smile.

[emblemxeno]

Chapter 13 of Fates Revelation is a writing highlight for me.

Corrin: What's going on? They're both blaming each other for this carnage.

Azura: Of course. Kingdoms at war will always twist things to benefit themselves.

Ryoma and Xander-representative of Hoshido and Nohr as a whole-uphold the conflict and status quo of the world they live in. Even if it makes no sense, they accept that they're enemies and an enemy must have done something awful to harm the peace.

Even parts of their battle quotes and end of chapter dialogue emphasize this.

Ryoma: It doesn't matter, Kagero. Anyone who doesn't side with Hoshido is the enemy. What will you be?

Xander: Trust her? Don't be a fool. I won't listen to any more of your lies. You've chosen your side—opposite me. Prepare yourself, Camilla.

-

Xander: This isn't over! We'll fight to the very last man!

Ryoma: You won't see Hoshido waver! We'll fight until there's no one left!

Xander: Whoever retreats now admits defeat! Nohr will never lose to Hoshido.

Ryoma: This war will continue until we take our last breath!

They are unable to see any part of a conflict as something with them or against them. Nuance and rationality don't sit well in minds stubbornly steeped in years of animosity. War, hatred, and reinforcing the way things are is something both of them are willing to do, because they see no other path or choice for themselves.

Corrin and Azura meanwhile, actively disrupt their world views.

Corrin: ...You may be my brothers, but I won't go easy on you if you try to stop me! Come, everyone! ... Ryoma! Xander! Please, you both have to listen to me! We've defeated the real enemy—you don't need to fight each other now!

Azura: Ryoma, Xander... It wasn't Nohr or Hoshido who destroyed this town. It was done by the invisible forces that we just defeated. Now that they are gone, I will not allow any more senseless violence. I will sing my song as many times as necessary to restore peace. Do you still insist on fighting?

And it's not empty words or cries that fall on deaf ears. Corrin is strong. Her will is iron-clad, and she will ensure her vision of peace is made a reality, no matter who she makes an enemy of. Azura is strong as well. What she lacks in directing a path on her own, she makes up for with raw resilience and no qualms about using her song-something that risks her life-to end things on her terms.

They force their stubborn older brothers to look at things in a different perspective; to stop trying to hack and slash their lives away and consider a bigger threat to what and who they care about.

While they aren't swayed immediately, they're undoubtedly shaken. After that, it takes personal introspection and uncomfortable truths for each of them to swallow their pride and admit their ways are wrong, and to follow Corrin to end a senseless war.

And I love this exchange at the end as well:

Scarlet: Ryoma's talked my ears off about what happened to you as a kid. You sound like an idealistic brat to me. You want to bring peace to the world? Ha!

Corrin: There's nothing idealistic about ending this horrible war.

REJECT 👏🏽THE 👏🏽 STATUS 👏🏽 QUO 👏🏽!

Accusing others of being naive or idealistic for things like this, in my opinion, shows cowardice, or even ignorance; a life that's been beaten down by other upholders of a terrible state of the world until they agree.

Why is it naive to trust people? Why is it idealistic to want something like endless warring to stop?

We're fed a lie as children: "Life's unfair, you can't do anything about it." Says who!? Why accept that life is cruel and unyielding, when there's so much capacity for good in the world? Is life actually unchangeably unfair in its nature, or is it simply malefactors taking advantage of innocent people in order to rise up to slake their own greed?

Once terrible people get in power, they beat down any forms of resistance and feed this very same lie to them. Worse still, they can even convince the masses to discriminate, fight, and kill each other all so they can swoop in during the aftermath and reap the benefits. And people, at their lowest point, take solace in any explanation-no matter how untrue and no matter who it's coming from-in order to have some semblance of control or direction. That forms their new view of the world.

It takes people who haven't been exposed or raised to believe such nonsense (Corrin) and people who are wise enough to recognize the true problems of the world (Azura), to push against this normalized destruction between two innocent groups of people and direct their ire towards the actual oppressor (Anankos).

It's succint, but scathing. The word choice-in both JP and localization-is too deliberate to consider it a coincidence, I genuinely think it's a good criticism of how our modern world works as well. From a philisophical standpoint it is basic, but Fates as a whole also tackles issues of ignorance/discrimination, xenophobia, the boundaries and meanings of family, who defines justice, the belief of many versus the will of the few, embracing consequences instead of running away, and exploring the concept of leadership in general.

For a game this big, IMO, it meets the mark more often than not when considering the points it wants its audience to hear.

[perfinn]

let neptune strike ye dead

merman!din djarin x lighthouse keeper!reader - chapter two

wc: 4.4k

summary: you confront the inevitability of your insanity, and finally meet the elusive entity that's been leaving you gifts

cw: nsfw, female reader, DUBCON based purely on lack of communication, paranoia, isolation, oral (f receiving), once again lighthouse keeping inaccuracies, biting, ummmm... monsterfucking?

chapter one, read on ao3, divider by cafekitsune

You hadn't thought too much about the mythosaur since Captain Fett had told you about it. It had been a short conversation, really, something easy to forget. But you remembered it, always clinging to his stories to think back on later when you truly have nothing to do. 

“That? That’s pounamu,” he’d said initially, gently picking it up to show it to you. “Greenstone, if you like. It was my father’s.”

“Ah,” you’d responded, not disinterested in the material but more focused on the carving itself. “What's the symbol?”

Captain Fett had given you a vague huff of amusement. He handed it to you, and you’d gently trailed the calloused pad of your thumb over the surface. “It’s a mythosaur.”

“A mythosaur? That's creative.”

“A great sea beast,” he’d continued on. “Said to be extinct. But the story goes that when they were running amok, it was merfolk that tamed them, or culled them to extinction. Spared both the land and the ocean of their dominion either way. The skulls are supposed to be their symbol now.”

“Merfolk?” You’d echoed with a chuckle, handing the mythosaur back to him. “So it’s not real then?”

“Well, now, I wouldn’t rule it out completely. Can’t say I’ve ever seen a mythosaur myself, but then they’re meant to be extinct.”

“What then? You’ve seen a mermaid, captain?”

He had smiled, that mirthful chuckle that had been plaguing your late night fantasies rumbling in his chest. “Never can be quite sure what it is you’ve seen out there. Sailors are a mad lot.”

You remember blithely telling him that you must be a sailor too, then. 

You stare intently at the cowrie shell cradled in your hands, trying to force yourself out of what surely must be some sort of hallucination. But you can feel it, you can trail your fingers over the carving and feel every little notch that seems to have been etched with such care. 

(You think tactile hallucinations are a thing, aren’t they? But you’re not certain they're meant to manifest like this.)

There’s obviously the potential that it belonged to another sailor, that it had dropped off their ship and washed up onto your dock in the chaos of the storm. That’s perfectly reasonable. Maybe it’s the answer you would settle for if not for the seaglass and the fish and that tail you’d seen in the water.

With all that in mind, and the echo of Fett’s words in your head, you know there’s only one answer. 

You don’t know if you can let yourself accept that, though. It would be an irreversible acceptance of your complete insanity. There’d be no calling your mother to trick your brain into believing you have company. No satiating the lonely ache with Captain Fett’s occasional company. You’d be well and truly cracked.

But even so, even if you accept that there may be some degree of merperson out there, that doesn’t explain the offerings. You’re not exactly an expert on the extensive lore regarding merfolk, but from what you can tell they’re elusive and solitary creatures. It doesn't seem exactly in their nature to leave gifts to a human. You briefly consider the option of some sort of siren– but then why not just sing to you, drag you to your watery death and be done with it? 

No, it feels like… you’re being wooed. 

This doesn't feel at all like a creature baiting you into a horrible death so they can store you away in their lair and eat you. It feels borderline romantic. Pretty gifts to decorate your home, fish to feed you. 

(The cowrie shell feels a bit like a proposal, doesn't it? Or is that your fractured mind, making sense of the senseless?)

The morning after the storm, the weather isn't much improved. Though the wind has died down some, it still rains lightly and the sky remains overcast. It’ll be clear enough for the fishing boats to go back out, so it's clear enough for you to get to work. No doubt the storm has wreaked some havoc, and you’ll need to tidy up and ensure everything is still in working order. 

So you tuck the shell into the pocket of your raincoat, pull on the matching hat that always makes you feel a bit like a toddler, and head out into the pattering rain. 

You wander through the mud and down the hill that the wretched tower sits on, watching as your boots get covered in the muck. Sometimes there are puddles, and you indulge yourself by jumping in them. But today it's all just sludge, begging for you to step wrong and slip right onto your backside. 

You make your way along as carefully as you can bear, feet carrying you to one of the cliffs at the edge of the island. One of the shorter ones, short enough that you could probably jump and the only risk would be rolling your ankle if your foot landed wrong between the rocks. It's the same cliff the seaglass had been on. 

You gaze out at the watery horizon, hoping to catch sight of any passing ships. A fishing boat, maybe. None would be so close as to be able to see the people aboard, but the implication of their presence would be enough.

At this point, just the notion of other people existing would ease your mind. 

You don't find anything but the empty horizon and the somewhat tumultuous waves and you sigh, lowering your gaze to the bank of water beaten rocks below you.

Sometimes there are seals there. You like to throw fish to them, enticing them to come back and entertain you with their ridiculous little behaviours. You’d like to start naming them, and you would if you could get close enough to tell them apart. 

You think that's something that people on the mainland would call crazy in a quirky way. In an ‘I’m so crazy, I talk to my cats!’ way, a way that indicates they have no understanding of what it actually is to descend into complete and utter madness. 

You can be assured that you know exactly what an actual descent into madness is, because there's no seals on the rocks today. 

There's a merman.

You’d be inclined to think he hasn’t noticed you, or else he’d have disappeared back into the waves to avoid detection, if he weren’t looking right at you. He’s staring, eyes intent and boring right into yours. 

He’s gorgeous, mind you. His skin is tan and his wet brown hair is slicked back by the rain – and presumably the ocean. Though you hadn't been able to make out a face from high up in the lighthouse, he’s almost certainly the head and shoulders you’d seen last night in the water. His tail, huge and strong, lays against the rocks, and as your gaze trails down to his tailfin, you recognise it as the very same one you had thought you’d hallucinated off the dock. His body of his tail is massive, about three times the length of his upper half. The whole thing might even be longer than you. It’s a dark, teal colour– it’s really no wonder you were hardly able to spot it in the waves. His top half looks almost entirely human, the only deviation being the gills that cut along his ribcage.

Slowly, on the edge of the cliff, you crouch, closing the distance between you both by a few meagre feet. It feels too close, and at the same time it feels like miles apart. You move slowly, wary of spooking him and scaring him away. Even as you inch into a crouch, he shifts, looking as though he’s about to make a break for the waves. 

(You’re not certain why he’s so shy if he’s the one that’s been offering you all these gifts for so long. Though, you suppose you’re much the same when it comes to flirting. And generally, you don’t flirt so much with species that have a mythology of hunting and killing your own either.)

You still when you’ve fully crouched above him. He’s close enough to touch now, if both of you were to reach out. You’d like to. To touch him, to know that he’s real. 

(Tactile hallucinations, you remind yourself. It would feel just as real as any visual and auditory hallucination might.)

The two of you stare at one another in silence for a while longer, and you assume that he’s trying to take in the sight of you up close as much as you are to him. You feel a bit jealous, knowing that he must have been watching you so long, getting to enjoy the sight of you when you didn’t even know he was there.

If this had happened maybe six months ago, you’d still have been sane enough to be frightened by this prospect of a silent watcher, leaving you dead fish and most certainly hearing you pleasure yourself loudly at night. Now, the horror you should probably feel doesn’t even occur to you.

“You’re the one who’s been leaving me gifts,” you say, quiet as you can manage in the pattering rain, wanting to be heard but not wanting to startle him. “Right?”

The merman gazes up at you, and there’s only a slight incline of his head in response. You’re not sure how to take it, but it’s not really a question you needed much answer to. More of a conversation starter than anything. Otherwise, he doesn't reply. You wonder if he even speaks your language, if he’s even capable.

You reach into your pocket, movements slow and cautious. You’re petrified of startling him as you take the cowrie shell from your pocket, turning it over in your hands before holding it out to him. He seems to perk up at the sight of it, shifting slightly so he’s propping himself up on his arms. You look down at the shell again, running your thumb over the mythosaur, before stretching your arm out, offering it to him.

His expression shifts minutely, into a frown. His dark eyebrows pull together, and he reaches up a hand. You think he’s going to take it back from you, but when his webbed fingers touch yours – he’s so warm, part of you expected him to be cold blooded – he closes your fingers back around the shell. You meet his eyes, and his intent gaze has never left you. His hand lingers on yours, and for a moment his thumb rubs over the side of your hand. His gaze finally drops, taking in the size of your hand cradled in his. His fingers are tipped off with dark talons that brush over the calloused skin of your hands.

He feels so real. Something so real, so warm and wet and rough and perfect, your brain couldn't make that up. He’s here, in front of you, touching you. It has to be real. 

Then, he murmurs something so quietly that you almost don’t catch it over the soft patter of the rain.

 “Mesh’la.”

Your eyes dart to his mouth, you catch a glint of sharp teeth behind soft lips before they pull into a smile. And his smile… God, unsurprisingly it’s made him even more gorgeous. It may be the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. 

Mesh’la. It’s certainly not any language you know, but it’s a sound you could make. So he is capable of speaking human tongues, maybe he just doesn’t know any of yours. You think briefly that mesh’la might be his name, but the way he said it doesn’t seem that way. It seemed like he was saying it to you, about you. On his tongue, it must mean something. 

“Mesh’la?” you say back to him, unsure of how to convey your confusion without overwhelming him with words he doesn’t know. 

He only offers you a hum in response, still trailing his fingers over your skin, as though he fears the thought of pulling away. 

“What’s your name?” You ask him softly, clearly as you can manage. You place a hand to your chest and slowly recite your own name, hoping he’ll understand. 

(You think, if it turns out he’s perfectly able to understand you, you probably look like a complete idiot. But then, with how long you’re certain he’s been watching you, he’s likely watched you make a fool of yourself several dozen times.)

He seems to catch the hint you’re throwing and after a moment’s hesitation, he speaks again, “Din.”

You breathe the name in a murmured echo, adoring the taste of it on your tongue. You dart your tongue out to wet your lips as though you might catch a lingering taste of the syllable. Part of you had expected something difficult to pronounce, using sounds you’re not even able to make, but Din is simple. It’s beautiful.

You think you hear a soft rumble from his chest, but it’s hard to tell over the rain. He lowers his hand, leaving droplets of water on your skin. Instinctively, you go to follow him, tilting forward a bit and losing your balance. You yelp, and wave your arms around as you desperately try to avoid toppling onto the rocks below. 

You manage to regain your balance and fall onto your backside, but when you look back down Din is backing away, slithering across the rocks and toward the water. You startled him, just as you had so desperately hoped you wouldn't. Foiled by your own centre of balance. You scramble to get back on your feet as he pulls himself away, eyes wide. 

“Wait!”

He glances back at you just once before he disappears into the foamy waves, leaving you alone on the edge of the cliff. Leaving you reeling, and suddenly desperate for his return. Din, the merman.

Part of you is imagining telling Captain Fett what you’ve seen, but a bigger part of you knows that you can never tell a soul, lest they think you a madwoman. 

(Which you most certainly are, but they don't need to think it.)

You stand back up as the waves crash over the rocks, erasing all traces of Din except for the droplets on your hand and the memory of him that you’re sure is reflected in your eyes. You’d love to dwell on it, to wish him back and stare out at the waves forever, but there’s still work to be done. So you have to go about your day as though you haven't just met a merman. 

Din makes no more appearances for a week. He leaves you no gifts, and drops no hints that he’s there at all. It’s devastatingly lonely, even with a phone call to your mother. It only lasts fifteen minutes this time, as you have nothing to update her on and the drama with your aunt has simmered to a cool cold shoulder stage.

(Of course, you could update your mother on the merman, but you would like for her to think you’re only slightly unhinged at most.)

You’ve completely integrated Din into your fantasies, at least, and that's added an impeccable spice to your nights. There was even one night, when you were fighting particularly hard to reach a new record for amount of orgasms, when you included both Din and Captain Fett. You went blind that night with how hard you came. 

Funnily enough, it's the next day when Din finally makes another appearance. You’ve got a spool of rope heaved over your shoulder and you’re trudging up to the shed when you spot his head at the end of the dock. It takes all the dignity and sense you have not to drop the rope and sprint toward him like he’s your long lost lover. No, this time you won't startle him. So instead, you wave to him and calmly make your way down the old dock. 

He seems to hesitate before he waves back, as though he’s unfamiliar with the gesture. You surmise that he’s seen it before and guessed that it's a human greeting, but he’s simply never had the need or opportunity to use it. 

“Din,” you greet as you make it to the end of the dock. Today’s a clear day, the clouds are sparse and the sun is blessing the both of you with its warm shine even in the frigid salty air. 

He murmurs your name, webbed hand resting on the dock. He looks infinitely more stunning in the clear sunlight, his skin somehow sunkissed, despite his dwelling somewhere with so little sunshine. You crouch slowly and set down the rope, smiling at him. 

“You disappeared,” you say, thankful when your sudden proximity doesn't make him retreat. “I’m sorry I scared you last week. I guess I got excited, and… you can't understand me, can you?”

Din smiles at you again, giving you a full view of his sharp and pointed teeth. They’re almost sharklike. He reaches up, taking your hand carefully, like he’s nervous. 

You think he might be– you think that might be the explanation for his strange behaviour. Maybe it isn't just the nature of merfolk, maybe Din is just shy. The thought makes you smile, the idea that this gorgeous, dangerous creature could be shy or nervous. It's more than a bit endearing.

Then he speaks again, and even the rough timbre of his voice can’t ease the shock at the word coming from his soft lips, “Fuck.”

Your brows knit together as you tilt your ear toward him, certain you’ve misheard. “Sorry?”

He says it again, seeming insistent. He gently grabs your ankle, guiding you to sit down on the dock. You’re still reeling from his sudden cursing, too shocked to stop him as he moves you so your legs are dangling off the edge of the dock. 

“Where did you learn that?”

(He probably learned it from you, shouting it late at night while you touch yourself, but you don't really have the brain function to piece that together while you're still reeling from the fact he's learned it at all.)

He says it again, and as he begins to tug your shoes off you begin to think he may know exactly what it means. He sets your boots down on the dock and looks intently at you, resting his hands on your clothed thighs. For a creature you’ve decided is shy, he’s being awfully bold. You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, willing him to suddenly know your language so he can confirm your suspicions. 

“Yes?” He prompts, and it's well enough. 

And really, you should probably say no. You don't know him. You don't know where he’s been. You don't know his actual intentions. He could be asking permission to drag you under and eat you. But it's obvious what he’s asking, right?

And god you want it, you want it bad. It's been so long since anyone else touched you, and at this point you’d take it even if it meant drowning. Especially coming from such a gorgeous creature. There are worse ways to go. 

So you nod, hurriedly undoing the clasps on your overalls and shifting away from him so you can take them off, leaving you only in your t-shirt and panties. They’re not exactly sexy, but judging by the lust darkening Din’s eyes, your fishy partner doesn't much mind. 

He trails his wet hands over the expanse of your thighs, taking in every inch of them. It takes you a moment to realise that he's probably never been this close to any legs before. He’s admiring them and amazed by them, and you shiver when he drags his tongue over the skin. 

(Or, he’s seen plenty of legs before from drowning and eating people, and he’s savouring the taste of them before he bites a chunk out of you. He’s got those sharp jaws for a reason. Still, you somehow don't mind if that's your fate.)

His tongue is long and wet, noticeably longer than any human tongue. It would be easy, from this angle, to forget that he has the bottom half of a fish until he opens his mouth. But his tongue laving over your thighs and the slight scrape of his teeth wrenches you back to the reality that you may be about to let this supposedly-mythical beast eat you out.

Or… maybe you’re just letting him lick your thighs. He doesn’t seem to be paying much mind to your pussy at all, actually. You think it’s possible he may be fooled by the concept of underwear. So as he damn near gnaws at your thigh, you shift slightly to tug them aside. Din sees your movement and pulls away from your leg, brown eyes filling with lusting curiosity. 

His eyes are on your fingers as you pull your panties aside and tuck the crotch of them between your pussy and your thigh. Din’s eyes dilate, and you can tell he recognises just what it is. It's just what he was after, to eat in one way or another. 

Before you can do much else Din grabs your legs, talons digging ever so slightly into your thighs but not breaking skin, and tugs. 

You yelp, scrambling for purchase as he yanks you off the edge of the dock– this is it, you think, you’ve just invited this creature to drag you to the depths to your unfortunate wet death. 

As you begin to come to terms with your imminent end, though, he stops, leaving your top half still above the surface. You’re distantly thankful that it's a somewhat warm day so you won't get hypothermia from the water if you end up surviving this. 

With more careful hands, like he heard your frightened yelp, Din turns you around so you can brace your arms comfortably on the surface of the dock. 

Oh, you realise. He wasn't trying to drown you. He was only trying to do this in his domain. If you had the brain for it you might think it were some territorial thing, which it is, but any thoughts in your head are melted away by the sudden drag of his lengthy tongue through your folds. 

A strangled sort of noise leaves your throat, and your eyes pop open at the hot muscle dragging appreciatively along your pussy. Even if he hasn't ever seen a human pussy before, it evidently can't be much different from a mermaid’s from the way he seems to know what to do with it. His arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, and you’re left digging your nails into the worn down wood to hold you up. 

Because you’ve forgotten how to be, you’re far from quiet. You cry out when his tongue brushes over your clit, the strange feeling of it being played with underwater like this heightening the feeling. 

(Somehow it's so much more than when you touch yourself in the bath, maybe because the water is cold, or because it's a foreign body, or maybe because the man doing it is used to doing it underwater.)

His tongue is rough, like wet sandpaper (but of a low, worn-down grit), and it laps reverently at your clit. Din’s mouth refuses to leave your pussy, and the delighted shouts of pleasure refuse to stay in your mouth. You think that he can probably hear it beneath the current, because he only begins to suck at it more fervently. 

“Fuck!” You hear yourself scream, before Din finally leaves your clit so just his nose bumps against it. He gives you barely a second of soft licks at your hole before he’s plunging his tongue into it. Your nails drag against the dock as your scream of delight is trapped in your throat. 

How is it that Din’s tongue delves so much deeper than your fingers ever have? It prods deeper than anything that's gone in there in months, fills you more perfectly than several of your fingers ever have. It’s like his tongue was made just to fit in your pussy, to find the spot that drives you insane with such little effort. You can't even begin to wonder about his cock. 

He laps at your hole, his large nose prodding against your clit as your entire body goes tight. Your thighs clamp around his head and you sob his name. 

“Din!” You scream, body trembling. “I’m-”

There’s no sense in warning him when it hits you so suddenly, probably more surprising to you than it is to him. Your vision goes white and you let out a guttural groan, forehead banging down against the wood as you writhe in pleasure, pussy trying to milk Din’s tongue. 

(You won’t have the cognitive function to realise it until hours later, but his tongue has stopped moving for how hard your cunt is clamped down on it.)

When your vision returns in spots and you find the ability to breathe again, Din’s tongue continues. You whine, scrambling against the dock to pull your oversensitive cunt away from his mouth. His arms only clamp down harder on your thighs, holding you in place. 

You gasp, tears blurring your vision as you manage to reach down into the water and tug harshly on his hair. That seems to give him the hint he needs to give your poor pussy a moment to breathe. In a second, his mouth has pulled away and left you dreadfully empty. With gentle hands and strong arms, he lifts your body back onto the dock and rolls you onto your back. 

You stare at the blue sky, panting. His hands trail gently over your thighs again, rubbing them in soothing circles. You lift your head just in time to see him press a kiss to your sensitive pussy, like a kiss to a lover. You can't help but feel a bit charmed by the gesture, until he suddenly clamps his jaw down on your inner thigh. You yelp in an odd mix of pain and offence, but before you can say anything, he’s slithering off the dock and back into the water.

You want to scramble after him, but your limbs feel like lead– which is quite the accomplishment considering you’ve built up the stamina for several orgasms in one go. So, instead of fruitlessly trying to draw him back to the surface to tell him off, you flop onto your back and close your eyes, too pleased to really process that you just came on a merman’s tongue.

[ppenguinpperson]

canine girl in all her doggy glory!! already posted her design and profile the other day, but i updated her profile and i want all her images in one post.. speaking of her profile, warning warning for talk of violence there more on canine (+ lyrics?!! Woah!!) under the cut:)

canine girl is inspired/an au of my oc alík, but i don't think it'd be wrong to say she's a different character alltogether? while the things she struggles with are things that alík does, too, she's more like.. idk ❤️only i can understand this ...

as you may have guessed by her warning, canine girl has violent intrusive thoughts, and feels extremely guilty for them, even if she never acts out on them. her profile doesnt get too into this .. since she feels that guilt and shame, i don't think she'd wanna share the details online .. or with anybody ever.. you know how it is 💥

her design is smth i struggled with greatly .. her mask is this

and as soon as i saw it on alíks pinterest board i was set on using it and im sooo happy i did!! i think it works greatly..!!! other notable things about her design, that im happy with, are mostly to do with her hoodie. her hoodie-ears are actual ears, shes just hiding them:) and its made to resemble a service dog vest!

you can't really see it in the 'fake screenshot' art, the first one, but she's got a kind of belt (harness ?) around her chest !! its around her shoulders too.. and her chain hanging from that could be interpreted as a leash ig ?? idk 💥💥you'll never understand sinister minds inner workings... another design-y thing is !! shes got her arms around herself in the fake screenshot, which is bc she's hiding her claws from you 💥her eyes are also made to resemblea wolfs:)

her pants are just like that bc its alíks fashion sense 💥and bc i think they fit! and i like them!! a little treat just for me:)

another thing that i wanna talk about is her profile!! its so !! chill !! the colours are warm and inviting, her info there is silly, she invites you to talk with her if you're struggling, shes got fun blinkies.. !! shes just having fun on a site hanging out and chilling .. its like that bc i wanted to show, even if in a little way, that intrusive thoughts arent indicative of a persons identity. canine's intrusive thoughts don't make her a bad person, they don't make her a rabid dog like she thinks, they just make her somebody with intrusive thoughts. shes more than her intrusive thoughts, you know ??

anyhow! the lyrics !! i wrote lyrics for a theoretical song that she would have, but Wont, because im not a songwriter. i might make a silly littly tune for her one day, like a minute long at most, most likey shorter, so these lyrics are what you get !! and also it was my second time writing actual lyrics (first time was 10 minutes before when i was writing lyrics for another tptm oc, unknown girl) so Dont be meanies... Ok... treat me niceys... her voice for this would be kohaku merry btw :3

warning, again, more specified this time: themes of violent intrusive thoughts, talk of violence, vague references to generational abuse

That I’m just like a dog, I know Got the leash and collar to show Tug it one way, then another I’ll obey you like no other

But obedience doesn’t cut it With teeth sharper than a razor blade The only way to be is afraid That’s what I say, anyway

Can’t say I’m sorry, not to you That’d scare me, letting you know  About your mangled body on the floor Still just a fantasy, nothing more

(Violent thoughts suppressed) Ineffective muzzle helps little (Violent needs repressed) ‘Cause my razors make it brittle It’s not on purpose, just my spittle Can’t help my second nature

(BEAT ME, FLAY ME, LEAVE ME DEAD PLEASE DO YOUR WORST, I BEG IT WON’T BE UNDESERVING TO BEAT A WILD DOG SENSELESS

GIVE IT YOUR ALL, YOUR EVERYTHING WE BOTH KNOW I’D DO WORSE WERE I NOT A DOG BUT SOMETHING LIKE I AM NOW, JUST SHAMELESS)

The carpet floor’s forever stained A family heirloom of violence and hate Trying so hard to reject that norm Can’t help but feel it’s all I’m destined for

Gotta stop myself with only a collar Can’t be like my father’s bully father So as long as you hold my leash I swear I’ll hide my deepest needs

Even if it’s not real, I fear You’ll reach into me and see All these sinful fantasies Of your bloody arteries I don’t mean them, believe me It’s just that this is all I know how to be A mutt that doesn’t know any better Only to claw and dismember

(Violent thoughts excessed) Maybe it’s just natural selection (Violent needs processed) Can no longer deny this connection That I’m just like a dog, I know Got all this shame to show

Your hands are only ever kind A stark contrast to my mind It’s not real, just thoughts, I know Adrenaline still fills me though

My collar thins, soon it will snap Go away, don’t want you here for that Your kindness is naivety My impending misery Your outstretched hand is prey Don’t say I didn’t warn you  Here comes the prophesised day Where the hand feeds no more

(WITH MY LEASH AND MUZZLE GONE YOU MISTAKE FOR A FAWN YOU THROW MY COLLAR TO THE FLOOR I BEG, PUT IT BACK ON NOT YOUR FAULT, BUT C’MON DON’T BE SO CRUEL AND SHOW ME I’M THE ONLY VICTIM TO MY FANTASY)

[brabblesblog]

Reek.

As Ban spends a night with Halsin, Astarion discovers a new benefit to being the Ascendant. Set before the events of 'Whither is thy beloved gone?'

Smut, angst, accidental voyeurism.

(Note: Astarion's in-game reaction if you kiss Halsin.)

Beta'd by the ever-amazing @leomonae For my consort coven, @marimosalad and @pursuitseternal

Read on AO3.

He had not talked to Ban directly about Halsin after that conversation, telling himself it was beneath the Ascendant’s concerns; in truth, it would have hurt him too much to hear. He remembers seeing Ban walk back into their room after that night, smelling like arousal and him. How he had barely been able to let himself think about it, much less have talked to her about it. 'Whither is thy beloved gone?' Chapter 16

He watches them leave. He watches her, always, and this moment is no exception; there is nothing new about that. 

The pounding in his chest, however, is.

Astarion sits on the bed, picking up Necromancy of Thay . He’s reread it a few times since the ascension, hoping it would provide information about the changes in himself he would be encountering. So far that has proven fruitless, despite him understanding the book more and more with every attempt at divining its secrets, but right now the words swim in his vision much like the first time he opened it. The book’s voices are thankfully silent, but there’s no making sense of this tonight.

Are his hands shaking? Are his eyes wet? Is he breathing too hard?

Gods. I’m meant to be better than this , he thinks.

In any other circumstance Ban asking to sleep with Halsin might have been fine, other than for some jealousy;  a little uncomfortable perhaps, back when he couldn’t give her the same pleasure, but he knows he did well enough in the Shadow-Cursed lands: Fingers deep inside her curling into hooks, his crooked touch enough, just enough to bring her to ecstasy. And then later on there were her own hands, her mouth, wrapped around him, sucking every last drop he had to give. There was so much lov-

He shakes his head. He can’t afford to think of that.

The parchment stares back at him, the text seemingly mocking him. Astarion snaps the book shut with an annoyed sigh.

It’s his fault, isn’t it? Like how everything seems to be nowadays - the rite, even though there was barely a word of protest amongst his companions at the time. This.

“It doesn't concern me. You are mine. No one can change that.”

“Go right on with Halsin. Far be it from me to hold your hunger against you.”

Words that were so easy to say at that moment, the absolute certainty that Ban would not dare provoke her sire all the reassurance he’d needed; so effortless to let them slip, his countenance not even the slightest bit perturbed - that is, until she turned away from him and walked in the direction of Halsin’s bed. “Fuck! ” he growls, throwing the book with one hard flick of his wrist; Necromancy of Thay sails farther than he intends it to, the extent of his new strength still unfamiliar to him. He watches it hit the wall with a dull thud , then looks away. That’ll serve the damn book right.

Without the book, there isn’t much else to distract him from his thoughts; he could head out of their room and seek out the company of their other companions; however, they have all been avoiding him since the rite. A drink, then, he figures. Considering his new ability to consume mortal food, it may help dull his mind and take the edge off. Hopefully. Astarion heads for the door of the room, intending to drink himself senseless at the tavern. If that is possible.

His mind, traitorous as it has always been, inevitably begins circling the thought of his consort and Halsin. A bottle of their best vintage later, paid with coin from Cazador’s stash, and he’s back in the room, sitting yet again on their bed; he’d seen Gale and Shadowheart dining in the tavern and had no willingness to be seen drinking alone in a booth.

He figures he could try peering into Ban’s mind; see everything for himself, scratch that itch. No doubt Halsin has her on the grass, much like Astarion himself had her, back in that clearing. No doubt she’s moaning Halsin’s name, cock deep inside her where his own should be instead, hands grasping what is his and no one else’s, except he’d been too weak yet again, too weak to seize what belongs to him and hold onto it -

Is it weaker to ask her to stay? Or weaker to goad her like he did, to test her and thereby drive her into the arms of another man?

He isn’t sure; he thinks the spawn inside him, that pathetic creature, is laughing right now. She wouldn’t have left me, it would have said. I would have been strong enough to ask her to stay, would have been unafraid to trust her with my heart - oh, sorry. 

Do you still even have one?

The hammering in his breast seems to indicate yes, but he stamps the thought down before it takes hold. Astarion sincerely hopes the alcohol takes.

The man on top of her is too large, his cock stretching her to what feels like her limits as he pushes in; pleasure and pain intermingle in such a dizzying storm that she’s out of breath, even if she doesn’t need it. As Halsin slowly inches in, the pain ebbs, replaced bit by bit by that feeling of being filled, of her cunt being wholly taken. She can hear Halsin’s heartbeat pick up as he fully buries himself in her. His hips begin to move, a gentle, careful thrusting that still sends tendrils of lust unfurling from her core outwards; the sheer size of his cock ensures that even with such small movements he inevitably still hits all the right spots.

Her eyes fly open, the first time they have in a while. For a second she admires the night sky, then shifts her eyes lower to look at her partner for the evening.

In another life, she thinks she would have fallen for him. He’s honest, sweet; there’s no shortness of physical attraction - a quick jerk of his hips reminds her of this - and kind. 

He always smiles at her, as if her mere presence brings him joy. He’s uncomplicated, uncompromising in his beliefs, understanding. There is, she thinks, nothing to dislike. 

He begins fucking her harder and she gasps, snapped out of her thoughts by the building pressure between her legs; his cock seems to go on endlessly, filling her channel and stretching it with every pass. 

A beautiful man. She wishes she could have loved him instead. 

Halsin’s form hovers over her, muscles rippling everywhere and skin smelling of musk and honey; she traces a hand over his chest, feeling the swell of it as it shifts with every thrust. He looks at her, quizzical, slowing the movement of his hips. 

“What is it, my heart?” 

She frowns at the sound of his voice, considering how much to tell Halsin. A low groan escapes her as he thrusts in again; gods , as much as she is loath to admit it, he’s just as good. 

He had alluded to the presence of some romantic feelings for her, feelings she knows she can never return. Not when she’s bound to someone else eternally; blood of her blood, soul of her soul, literally - as her sire she very well knows there would be no escaping him. Not that she’s even sure that’s what she wants at the moment. 

All she wishes for is for her beloved to return to her; just that, and she thinks she can ignore everything else. For now. Eventually his refusal to turn her into a full vampire will put them at odds, she’s sure. 

“It’s-“ she begins, pushing past the discomfort at the idea of breaking his heart. “This can’t happen again.”

His hips still and she feels a twinge of regret for speaking up mid-fuck. “We can stop whenever you wish.” He looks pensive for a moment, then continues. “Did Astarion not give you his approval?”

“He did. It’s me. I can’t…” She trails off. Astarion had given her approval, and seemed to not care at all. And why would he, when she’s utterly his, when the threat of being compelled is an actual possibility? He’s never done so, Ban thinks, never done more than raise his voice when they argue, but still. 

In some ways tonight is a test. How far can she push him, and how far his patience lasts. 

How much of him is still him.

Halsin smiles at her, a little wistful, cupping her cheek and making her meet his gaze. That breaks her from her reverie. “He is in your thoughts, the only one in your heart. I can see; your hands run through my hair, expecting curls where there are none. You search for a body that isn’t mine. Your eyes glaze over, seeking crimson ones.”

“Yes,” she chokes out, feeling guilty. “I am sorry, Halsin. I still want this, but it wouldn’t be fair to make this a long-term thing.” 

“Then it shall not be.” Halsin’s voice carries no hint of resentment, but his face betrays his pain. His lips move to meet her own, the taste of honey filling her mouth as his tongue pushes in. She fights the urge to nip, to bite, to feed on that blood of his that must be oh-so-delectably sweet . 

Another thrust, one that buries his cock to the hilt inside her; she’s still honestly shocked that she’s able to take him so well. Her mind wanders to when she first saw it: large and thick, much like the man himself, not without any veins but far less than Astarion ’s, and oh gods she shouldn’t be thinking of him right now, not when this feels so, so good, Halsin’s cock fully stretching her walls, mercilessly hitting her spot and everywhere else. 

She’s here to forget about him, not compare him to Halsin, but it seems like her mind has other ideas. A deep breath and she focuses on the physical instead, on the feeling of Halsin inside her, all around her, comforting, and not what she needs, but enough.

Ban feels her climax begin to build, despite herself. Everything feels wrong - the loud, breathy moans, the large calloused hands gripping her, the weight against her body, and even that cock that arguably might be even better. Because she didn’t want better. She wanted him , and he was gone, taken from her in one foolish move, one moment where her own strength faltered and she failed him. Halsin thrusts in and out of her again, his pace increasingly frantic, whisking that train of thought away; it commands most, if not all of her attention. The sweet pleasure of being filled to the brim with every stroke, of being speared on something so large it almost feels too much - she finds herself keening, asking for more, harder, Halsin, harder, fuck me hard so I forget-

“Ast-”

Her climax takes her by surprise, hand flying to her mouth to muffle the rest of the word. Halsin’s relentless thrusting doesn’t slow; if anything it only intensifies as he chases his own release, the body above hers heavy and hot and beautiful in its own way, caught in his own throes of passion. She feels him start to come, a loud, guttural groan emanating from him as he joins her, spilling his seed where it shouldn’t be, where it should have only been -

“-arion.”

His eyes open, hearing his name, seeing for a second not the darkness of their room in the Elfsong, but a sky filled with stars. He feels pleasure: immense, stretching him to the brink and yet filling him with a deep satisfaction. His hips jerk once in response before he manages to cut off the link, cursing himself as the realization of what he had experienced sinks in.

He had figured he daren’t try peering into her mind. What was the point? She will be back on the morrow, his consort , bound to him for eternity whatever else she chooses to do, whoever else she chooses to fuck; the thought was cold comfort. But having it thrust upon him reminds him exactly why he had thought better of it - because it would hurt. Knowing she’s found bliss with some other man, a bliss that should only come from him, stings, especially when he can feel her slipping away from him with every single day that passes. Damn Halsin. Damn him for asking her, for daring to even try to steal her away. As if he ever had a hope against the Ascendant, as if -

As if he needed any more reminders he’s losing her. 

Ban opens the door to see the Ascendant sitting on the bed, a bottle of wine in hand; he’s in his nightclothes, shirt unbuttoned. His nose wrinkles, face contorting into a sneer as she walks in, as if he’s smelled something unpleasant.

“You’re back, pet.” he says, not even looking towards her. Another swig of wine; she notices his hand trembles as it lowers the bottle from his lips.

“Didn’t think you’d stay up waiting for me.” She immediately brings her walls back up, walls that have been in use since the day of his ascension. It’s almost second nature now to let the hatred and indifference shine through when all she really feels is longing.

He scoffs. “I’m drinking, not waiting. Where you went and how long you took are not my concern, as I mentioned.” Astarion finally meets her gaze. To her shock his eyes are glassy - drunk. She’s never seen that before, which made sense: he’d never been able to, before. “I know you wouldn’t wander far, little love. How could you?”

The soft bark of false laughter that follows his words are a challenge she’s tempted to meet. Her gaze hardens.

“I might as well just leave then, no? You’re obviously drunk.”

“No.” Astarion stands, swaying on his feet. “You… will stay here.” A slight slur in his normally smooth timbre, and he takes several steps towards her, each one more unsteady than the one before.

Ban moves, instinct and love winning out, wrapping her arms around him; he seems to melt into her arms, pressing her against his chest; he nuzzles the top of her head, though whether through sheer drunkenness or affection, she doesn’t know. He’s warm, a feeling she still finds unnerving, and his heart races against her ear, a fact she dismisses as irrelevant.

Given the severity of his condition, however, she thinks she should stay. 

“Let me get you to bed. You’re - gods.” In one move she sweeps him off his unstable feet, arms lifting him effortlessly. It takes a moment to wrangle the Ascendant to bed, given that he’s making a rather futile attempt to fight back.

“I’m not - you don’t -” He glares, although the effect is lessened by his condition, “-go. You don’t go.”

Please don’t go. 

“Fine.” Ban dumps him unceremoniously on the bed, dropping him from a little higher than she probably should’ve; he groans as he lands and fixes the same angry look at her. “Rest. You’ll be your dear old self in the morning. I’m going to bathe.”

Astarion’s scowl deepens, still looking as if he’s smelling something distasteful.

“Thank the gods,” he hisses. “You reek.”

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind@pursuitseternal@youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann

[argisthebulwark]

Breathing & Grasping

summary: their favorite positions fuck you. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Miraak, Vilkas, Brynjolf, Erandur, Farkas warnings: explicit sexual content. minors should not read or interact with this post, this is 18+ only. reader is kept as gn as possible, but this is written by an AFAB person and this may influence my interpretations of these positions.

Miraak craves you on top of him. The weight of your body holding his hips in place, your lust filled eyes staring down at him, your seamless ability to take complete control without leaving him feeling powerless. There’s reverence in the way he gazes up at you, something like worship when your name falls from his tongue. He feels a sense of holiness at the sight of his scarred hands sliding over your thighs and up your sides, thrilled at the way his touch urges you on. 

Vilkas wants your legs over his shoulders, chests pressed close and lips hovering just inches apart. Rough hands grabbing your hips when he pounds into you, dark eyes devouring each little expression you make. He never wants to hurt you but there’s something addicting about those sounds you make when he gets rougher, seeing your hands grabbing for him and face flushing with each filthy word that slips past his lips. He’s hungry for every reaction you give him, carefully keeping your legs around his shoulders while he does all the work. 

Brynjolf wants to face you, to feel each inch of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and hands buried in his hair while he leaves a trail of marks down your chest. He needs to be close to you, to feel each erratic beat of your heart while he makes you beg for more. He’ll pin your wrists to the bed just to feel you writhe, your hips bucking into his in a silent command nearly enough to send him over the edge. 

Erandur wants nothing more than to worship you. The gods may have failed him but never you, you are the only one worthy of his praise. He cares little for his own release when he hears you moaning his name, nails digging into the headboard as your hips grind against his face. He can lose himself in you, senses full of nothing but the one he loves more than all else. He wishes to give you nothing but pleasure, to relieve all that tension you carry and let you come undone just for him. 

Farkas, always so sweet and gentle, wants to bend you over and fuck you senseless. His control slips just a tad when he sees you clutching the bedsheets, hips slamming back into his as your hoarse voice goads him on. There’s just a hint of the beast lurking within him that reveals itself when you bend over for him, practically begging him to fuck you. He relishes in the sight of his hands fitting so nicely around your waist and the way you throw your head back, the sound of his name a rhythmic plea when you’re close to orgasming. 

[oskea93]

Tis the Way the Wind Blows, Hummingbird (One)

Caleb Sykes x OC Horizon universe

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ Story will contain moments of physical, sexual, emotional, and verbal abuse, cursing, murder, suicidal ideations, childbirth, scalping, death, etc. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. If you've seen the film or just read about it online, you already know that Caleb is a bad guy. He will remain a bad guy throughout this story as well. He will not be liked and will be vile in every way. Just a heads up if you were looking for a happy Jamie story.

A/N: Oh my goodness guys, thank you so much for the love for this story! I am so glad you all are enjoying it so far! It's only gonna get more extreme and downright dirty from here. Also, if you have any questions about the story, just wanna talk, or whatever, just drop me a message!

● If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ●

Taglist: @austinswhitewolf, @carriewritesblog, @isla-bell-blog, @jcbbby, @eve18ahs

His touch would burn like a batch of fire ants each time he laid hands on me.

The searing pain as his grip would tighten – his cold blue eyes staring into mine as I would beg and plead not to hurt me in front of our children. I would like to say it hadn’t always been this way with Caleb but that would be a lie straight from the devil’s mouth. I would love to tell you that he was once a gentleman who was corrupt by the bottle – that his hands were once full of love and joy but for some ungodly reason I actually held feelings for the man.

I remember the first time I saw Caleb, standing in the dimly lit corner of the saloon, a shadow of a man with haunted eyes that seemed to mirror my own loneliness. His smile was a twisted reflection of charm, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. Despite the warnings that whispered in the back of my mind, I found myself captivated by his words, his presence filling a void I hadn't even known existed. In his arms, I felt a fleeting sense of belonging, as if for a moment, the world made sense and all the broken pieces of my heart were whole again. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the cracks in his facade began to show, revealing a darkness that chilled me to the core.

He was the youngest child of the vile woman who birthed him all those years ago – his father a philanderer who only arrived home when necessary. Rumor had it he had spawn all over the territory – the short woman he married long ago idly standing by as she knew there was nothing that could be done. The Sykes family were notorious among the Montana Territory – the fear they placed upon those wanting to settle was enough to make settlers treck along elsewhere. Some would say even the Indians feared the Sykes men – I would argue that on a heavy bible.

 Caleb’s anger more than likely rising from the hits of his mother and brother – always on the receiving end of a hand, foot, or even the butt of a gun at one point. I remember watching in the shadows as Junior almost beat him senseless for some measly reason – no reason good enough to knock your kin unconscious for hours on end. I was the one that had to drag him out of the snow that night – into the little shack that his mother had “gifted” us to make house in. The winter’s wind whistling through the loose logs, the fire barely staying lit as the snow floated through the home. When he awoke, he knew that there was no use in going after Junior, his hatred and fury landing upon my skin throughout the night.

I guess you may be asking how I even came to be with the blue-eyed devil – having enough dimwits about me to stay with a man like that. Well for one, it was an act of rebellion. I thought I could change him, hell, maybe even overpower him. I took the blows that he gave me each night, going to bed with tear-stained cheeks as he stepped out to go drinkin with his brothers. The other reason I stayed was because it was a sense of security. I had a leaking roof over my head, but it was covered none the less. I wasn’t wondering the land like the others out there, subjected to the harshness that the land was giving forth. The Sykes fortress was clear of any Indians – the dangers of being ambushed by them pushed at the wayside – unlike those that were travelling to their new homes.

I had married Caleb on the 24th day of January in the year eighteen hundred and fifty-two. The justice of the peace in the town below reading from the holy book as he weaved back and forth from the whiskey coursing through his blood. No kiss was shared – no joyous voices from our closest relatives. Just an empty room. I had run off from Grady’s house – my only bag packed – his best horse trotting underneath me. I had only known Caleb for a number of days before his hands slipped under my dress – the piece of me that I was savin for future husband taken away in a matter of seconds. I guess all’s forgiven in the eyes of God since I ended up marrying the bastard…

I watched as the snow swirled around the open air like paper scraps sent from the heavens above. The fire had long gone out several hours ago – my breath seen clearly as I exhaled in exhaustion. I hadn’t seen sight or sound of him in nearly four days – nothing uncommon nowadays. The wood burning smoke from the big house filtered through the cracks in the wood, the scent causing me to long for a warm room just for a moment of two.

Soft coos broke me out of my thoughts as I turned my attention to the little bundle in the center of the room. I had every blanket and article of clothing I could scrounge up piled atop her, trying to keep the cold off her small body.

“What’s wrong my sweet?” My feet carrying my body towards her.

She had her daddy’s eyes – bright blue and able to look right into your soul. Sprouts of red hair could be seen beneath the bonnet she wore, her little cheeks red with the touch of the cold. Emily was the daughter I longed for – a true gift from the Lord above. She was the second child – one that no one but me cared to have. She was the light of my life – the reason that I never gave up on myself against her father or his family.

I had given birth to Rory – our son – the first-born Sykes grandson seven years ago. Mama Sykes was at the head of the bed as he was born, quickly whisking him off before I could hold him. Caleb was celebrated for once in his life – having the workings to produce a strong male offspring – a male that would carry on the Sykes name and lineage. The Sykes women kept Rory at an arm’s reach from me during his infancy – only pushing him in my arms when it came time for him to eat. They would bring me into the big house as he fed and pushed me right back into the small shake once he was through. This was Mama Sykes dream to have another son she could mold and make her own. It was obvious that she wanted another son like Junior – Caleb being the lowest branch that she so badly wanted cut.

I watched as the years passed as my son shaped into a typical Sykes male. James and Junior would make sure to take him out, teaching him how to trap and hunt, something that a little boy at his age didn’t need to worry about yet. Caleb would just sit back and watch, the fatherly instinct never truly kicking in. He was seen more as Rory’s uncle rather than the his father. I’m almost positive that’s what Mama Sykes even taught Rory to call Caleb.

I would try my best to push my way into his life, only to get shoved back by the Sykes women. They didn’t trust me to be his mother – I was simply the woman that gave birth – not his mother. Hannah, Junior’s wife claimed that spot. Her evil glares cutting right through each time I would look at my son. Mama Sykes and Hannah would mutter awful words about me to Rory, finally breaking through to him. I watched as the baby boy I carried for nine months, suffering 10 hours in agony as I labored, just kicked me away like a speck of dirt on the floorboard.

I slowly picked my daughter up, bouncing her around in the quilt my mother had made before she passed.  “Flee as a bird to your mountain – thou who art weary of sin – go to the clear flowing fountain – where you may wash and be clean.”

The sudden sound of a shotgun going off cutting off the lyrics as my grip tightened on the baby. Stepping towards the window, the site in front of me causing my heart to thump against my chest. Gently placing Emily back into her bassinette, I tore open the wooden door, racing over to where my son laid.

“What the hell is happening?” My knees digging into the hardened dirt as I brought his limp body into my arms. His face bloodied and bruised as Robert and Junior stood above – Mama Sykes and Hannah watching from the porch steps.

Junior let out an annoyed sigh, “This doesn’t concern you, Elizabeth.”

“Like hell it doesn’t, Junior.” My tone biting back, fire raging through my eyes as I looked down at my little boy. My hand softly trailing down his cheek, his chest slowly rising and falling.

“He started the whole thing.” Robert, Junior and Hannah’s youngest son scoffed. “Ain’t my fault that he don’t got no fightin skills.”

My eyes cutting up to the younger Sykes, “That’s enough, Robert.” Junior sounded. “Go get cleaned up for supper.”

The boy followed his father’s direction, Hannah smiling at him once he reached the steps. Her last glance finding mine as she walked into the home. Mama Sykes stood stoic on the porch, her eyes dull and full of spite. “Junior, get Rory and bring him in the house.”

“No!” My arms wrapping tighter around my son’s unconscious body. “You will not touch another hair on this child’s head –“ My eyes piercing towards Mrs. Sykes. “None of you are touching my child again.”

“Ain’t your child, Elizabeth.” Mama spoke clearly. “Hasn’t been your child since the day he was born.”

I could feel tears of anger spiking in my eyes, “Oh yeah –“ A sarcastic chuckle slipping, “And who’s idea was that, huh?” Junior stepped closer. “You bunch of monsters took him away from me – turned him against his own mother for what? You see how well his father turned out – think I could’ve done a hell of a lot better than you, Mama Sykes.”

Junior’s large hands pried my arms apart, Rory slipping back onto the ground as he dragged me feet away. His grip like that of Caleb’s but only stronger. My words of pain going by the wayside as his foot kicked into my ribs, a guttural cry releasing deep from my body.

“Get that boy in the house before he catches a death of cold.” Mama’s raspy voice sounded.

Junior looked up to the matriarch, “What about her?” My body still curled into the cold ground. “Whatcha want me to do with her?”

The only sound could be heard was that of the winter birds around as the wind blew – Mrs. Sykes body staying silent for a moment. “She can find her way back.” Her eyes connecting with mine briefly as she turned to enter the home.

I stayed silent, face still pressed against the snowy ground as Junior lifted Rory into his arms, stomping his way up the stairs to the main house. The door slamming behind him once he crossed the threshold.

I waited a few moments before moving – the sharp pain of where his foot had landed making it hard to breathe as I slowly walked back to the building. The echo of Emily's cry reverberated in my ears, piercing through the chaos that had engulfed us. Each step felt heavy, burdened not just by the weight of my own injuries but by the fear and uncertainty that loomed ahead.

With a shaky hand, I pushed the door open, the hinges creaking in protest. Emily's tear-streaked face turned towards me, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and fear. My heart ached at the sight of her, so small and innocent in the midst of such turmoil.

"Shh, it's okay," I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely above a broken murmur. I knelt beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form. The warmth of her tiny body pressed against mine offered a brief respite from the cold reality that threatened to consume us both.

"It's okay, baby," I repeated, the words a mantra to soothe not just her but myself as well. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the world around me. In that moment, I felt the weight of responsibility crushing down on my shoulders, the knowledge that I must be strong for her, no matter how broken I felt inside.

I thanked God silently that Emily was so young, her innocence a shield against the harshness of the truth…

“How dare you disrespect my mother and brother like you did, Elizabeth!”

I sat in the corner of the room, the metallic taste of blood lingering on my tongue as I dabbed away the fresh crimson droplets that fell from my split lip. The throbbing ache in my jaw served as a painful reminder of the altercation that had just taken place, but my focus remained unwavering on the man standing before me.

"I was protecting my child – our child," I asserted, my voice steady despite the underlying currents of anger and frustration that simmered beneath the surface.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation, his movements agitated as he paced the confines of the cramped room. "That boy was two steps away from killing Rory, he wa-"

"Robert was teaching him how to act like a man – not some pansy whipped little girl," Caleb interjected, his voice tinged with defiance. The words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the deep-seated differences in our beliefs and values. "Junior and I did the same thing growing up – plus it’s not your word that matters anymore, Lizabeth."

I shook my head, a bitter taste of resentment flooding my senses. "Yeah," I muttered, my voice tinged with sorrow and anger. "You and your goddamn family took that right away." His eyes darkened as he advanced towards me, each step a menacing echo of the power dynamics that had long defined our relationship.

"I was just used as a cow to make sure he was fed and then put back in the pen like some kind of barnyard anim-" My words were cut short by the sharp crack that resonated through the home, the impact of the blow sending a searing wave of pain from my jaw to my temple.

“Always running that damn mouth of yours,” Caleb's voice was heavy with frustration as he hastily unclipped the holster from his waist. My body already knew what was about to happen as I scrambled to get off the floor, the urgency pulsing through my veins. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough. Caleb's strong grip closed around my ankles, his fingers digging into my skin as he yanked me across the dirty wood.

His dirt-stained hands pushing up the material of my skirt as his body straddled mine – my arms pinned to my side as my cries mixed with those of Emily’s in the corner of the room…

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 10

Part 10/18 | Ao3

Biggest, bestest thank you as always to @witch-and-her-witcher and @cauldronblssd. Love you both <3

For as far as Feyre could see across the lush Spring property of Tamlin’s manor, there were massive structures propped up and ready to be set aflame come nightfall.

There was a rich smell of freshly chopped wood in the air, overwhelming the normally floral and woodsy scents, and something about that combined with the excitement set Feyre’s blood buzzing. Her magic seemed to dance within her as she leaned against the rails of the porch, watching people scurry around to set up the massive event that was coming as soon as the sun went down.

Calanmai.

Tamlin had explained a bit of it to her, stammering his way through it as they made their way back to the library with one of the two empty shelves she had picked.

“It’s a way of replenishing the magic of Spring each year. It helps to ensure a good harvest and flourishing land. There is a large celebration on the first night with some ceremonial things, then a smaller, less formal celebration the next night.”

Feyre had thought it sounded fun. She’d gone straight back into the library to make a plan for finishing shelving the following day, then found the first book she could on Calanmai. By the time she was finished, she was well aware of why Tamlin had been stammering while trying to get through his explanation. He’d left out a rather important piece about him painting his nude body, letting some ceremonial magic overtake his senses, and then spending the night rutting some maiden senseless in a cave.

Feyre was blushing up to her ears by the time she was done, laughing a little as she shoved the book a little too forcefully into its place on the shelf and trying not to cringe while she imagined Tamlin’s inevitable “celebration”.

So, when Tamlin told Feyre and Calla over dinner that they were not to leave the manor under any circumstances during the Fire Night celebrations, Feyre was torn. Truly, it had been a long day of training, something in the vibrating magic of the incoming event thrumming along her skin and making her power and emotions go wild. She’d been holding back all day long, and she was exhausted from the effort. But that little voice in her mind that hated being told what to do whispered to go. Still, she knew this was important to Tamlin, and frankly the thought of being around any males other than Rhys during such a sexual celebration held no appeal for her.

“That’s fine. I’m looking forward to settling in with a big book and a large stack of those desserts I saw them making in the kitchen earlier. Calla, do you want to join me? You could stay in my room and help me consume a senseless amount of sugar.”

“Why can’t we come?” As always, Calla was ready on the defensive.

“It’s not safe for humans. Once the magic begins, the fae lose a bit of their sense, their control. If something were to happen–”

“It’s not like we can’t take care of ourselves,” Calla snapped back. Every time the two seemed to be making progress, it would take almost nothing to have them at each other’s throats again. She could see Tamlin fighting against the urge to grit his teeth, his talons making the smallest appearance across his knuckles. Again, some part of Feyre couldn’t help but echo the sentiment, but she knew how important it was to smooth things over between Calla and Tamlin. Seeing him wild and rutting in the hills of Spring might not be the best course of action for that.

“That may be so, but tonight you will stay inside. This is not up for negotiation.”

“It’s alright, Calla. We’ll have fun!” Feyre tried to inject excitement into her voice as Calla pushed back from the table and left with a huff of frustration. Lucien rolled his eyes and Tamlin let out a long suffering sigh, his eyes falling to Feyre.

“Please stay indoors.” Feyre lifted her hands in a placating gesture and lifted her brows.

“Hey, I'm not the one you need to worry about. I'm perfectly content inside with the apple tarts.”

“And please try to make sure she does too.”

“Now that will be another story. Have you tried to keep her from doing something?” Lucien snorted, giving a pointed look to Feyre who stuck out her tongue at him.

“Please, Feyre.”

“I'll try my best to keep her indoors.”

He’d looked mildly relieved, but Feyre was making no promises.

Now that the night was upon them, she wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to convince Calla to follow through. She owed it to Tamlin to try, but Calla was an entirely different animal. Once she set her mind to something, there was rarely any talking her out of it, consequences be damned. Feyre certainly understood how it felt to dig her heels in, and she wondered how she might appeal to that stubborn part of Calla that echoed so strongly within herself.

Especially when the inexplicable draw of Fire Night was calling to her, too.

+++

As the sun set on Spring, Calla and Feyre settled down into Feyre’s room. To Tamlin’s credit, he had specifically instructed the kitchens to set aside a massive dinner and unrealistic portions of dessert for the two of them to be brought up to Feyre’s room. It all smelled heavenly, but even from her room, Feyre’s senses were overwhelmed by the scent of the fires popping up all across the rolling hills.

It was a beautiful view as night emerged, the sparkling, tall fires dotting the horizon as far as the eye could see. She felt a small pang of jealousy at the inability to celebrate with her friends, but she was more concerned with how she would keep Calla inside and safe. Feyre tried to shove away the part of her that was irritated. Calla had done nothing but complain and be miserable since she’d come up to Feyre’s room, and Feyre was finding it hard to bite her tongue. She had been mostly okay with listening to Tamlin and staying indoors, but now she couldn’t even relax with Calla’s deep sighs and complaints nagging at her every free moment.

“I can’t believe they’re making us stay in here. What an absolute joke.” Calla had been notably irritated since breakfast, skipping her writing and reading practice in the library in favor of sulking around the gardens and biting off the heads of anyone who tried to speak with her. After years of freedom in which her parents had depended on her for survival, Feyre guessed she wasn’t used to being told what to do anymore.

“It’s for our safety, Calla. You’ve seen what fae are capable of.” Calla swallowed audibly, likely remembering the sawed off wings of the blue fae.

“It’s still stupid.” Feyre sighed as Calla folded her arms and went to work on making new arrows for her bow. Feyre went back to staring out of the open window, the faint light from the dwindling sun nearly gone now.

Come. Come see.

The feeling rang out like a voice in her ears, as it had all day. It tugged and pulled at her in the same place her magic wrapped around her ribs.

I cannot come see. I tragically have a job as a nanny.

She laughed at herself, but couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she’d been here before. Not in Spring at Calanmai, but at an event where something, someone, had called her outside.

She remembered the pull to something bigger the night of the masquerade ball, that gentle urging that had her nerve endings alight and had ended with her in Rhys’s arms beneath a willow tree. Truly, it hadn’t ended there, but instead brought her here, to this moment, with her staring out across the fires dotting the hills of Spring.

She’d ignored the voice that first night, and she’d met him anyway. Had it been fate whispering to her and trying to speed things up? Could it be doing the same now?

She shook her head. She wouldn’t risk it, and she had promised Tamlin that she would stay. Plus, she’d ignored it last time and ended up where she needed to be anyway. Perhaps it was wise to follow that pattern again.

“They’re leaving,” Calla called to her, looking out through the window on the opposite side. Surely enough, Tamlin and Lucien strolled out across the property, Tamlin half-naked and covered in dark swaths of paint. “God, what’s he wearing?”

“Something ceremonial, I would assume.” It occurred to Feyre that Calla might not know what tonight signified for Tamlin. “Did they tell you what he does?” Calla shook her head, and with great mischief and pleasure, Feyre explained.

Calla was left looking a bit flushed. “Of course. I’m sure he’d be happy with any little tart. He has his pick of the litter.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall, looking surly.

“Jealous, Calla?” Feyre seized the opportunity to work absolutely any advantage she could.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“You had me fooled.”

Feyre smiled as she picked up her book. She’d just begun the large tome on Day that morning, finding that yes, their High Lord had also been a recent addition, though by the numbers he was much older. The magic of Day had been easy enough to play with, and Feyre found she had a proclivity for winding and unwinding wards once she’d figured it out. She enjoyed the repetitive and soothing nature of it, laying down and picking up the glowing strings one by one to see through them. In fact, she’d spent a good bit of her afternoon wandering the property, plucking at and investigating the wards laid by Tamlin.

“I am not jealous,” Calla growled. Feyre did not look up from her book, pretending to be absorbed in the pages.

“I think you are protesting an awful lot for someone who isn’t jealous, Calla.”

“Well, I’m not.” Feyre let the silence fill the room in hopes that Calla would continue on. She did. “It’s not that I don’t find him attractive. Certainly.”

“You’d be hard pressed to not find these males attractive.”

“Are you and Lucien…” That did make Feyre lift her eyes with a look of abject disgust.

“Lucien? Gods, no.” Calla laughed at her reaction. “Just friends. There’s someone I have already given my heart to. Lucien is like a big, annoying brother that never knows when to shut up. He’s the one we have to put away at the family functions.”

Calla laughed. “Do you miss him? The one who has your heart?”

Feyre felt that magical tug of the Fire Night magic again, a bit forlorn in her chest this time. “Every single day.”

The two ate desserts until their stomachs ached and the moon was high and bright in the sky. They could hear the wild beating of the drums outside, and Calla punctuated the silence with sporadic, deep sighs of annoyance.

Feyre could feel each drum beat pounding in her veins, her chest, her head. The call of the magic was overwhelming, and she understood why Tamlin had warned them away. It would be easy, she thought, to get caught up in it all and lose sense.

“Alright, I’m going to bed.” Feyre knew Calla was most certainly not going to bed. But Feyre was tired, and she wanted to sleep to block out the endless thrum of her magic begging to be released to play.

“Calla, I would encourage you to go to your room and nowhere else.” Calla’s eyes flashed but she nodded, grabbing her bow and new arrows off the floor.

“Of course. See you in the morning, Feyre.” She probably should have stopped her, but frankly, she was certain Tamlin had warded the house to keep them in anyway. Calla likely wouldn’t get far, and if she did, at least she had her bow.

Sleep was already overtaking Feyre as she turned out the lights and crawled into the bed, that endless tug and exhaustion pulling down, down, down on her eyelids and her consciousness.

Then Feyre’s body slammed into something so hard that she swore she felt her bones rattling.

She tried to open her bleary eyes, but all around her there was darkness, save for the light of the moon that was coming into focus. Had she fallen out of bed?

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a groaning on the ground next to her.

“Calla?” She whispered frantically, wondering if somehow she’d returned to her room once Feyre had fallen asleep.

“Feyre?” The voice whispered back, but it definitely wasn’t Calla who responded.

“Rhys?” She tried to find him in the dark, those drums of Calanmai still thrumming in her ears and that accompanying magic swelling violently in her chest while she tried to orient herself.

There were leaves beneath her hand.

A dream. She was dreaming.

Her eyes began to adjust, the shape of him next to her crouching on the ground coming into focus. He shuffled towards her on his knees, his hand coming to cup her jaw as though by memory, and her cheek turning to meet it the same.

“Hello, Rhys.” She closed her eyes and let that beautifully spiced citrus scent wash over her, inhaling greedily as his thumb stroked her face.

“Feyre, where are you?”

She was barely lucid enough to remember herself, her eyes already heavy with the draught of feelings swimming in her chest for him. Adoration, lust, and anxiety all writhed within her in an overwhelming cacophony. She placed her hands on his chest. “I’m here with you.”

She cracked her eyes open, risking a glance at his beautiful face, marble hewn in its regal nature. He was so handsome, even with his brows furrowed in concern.

Perhaps she’d been right in ignoring the call, just as she had the night of the masquerade ball. It seemed that they were always finding each other regardless. She leaned in, her lips barely ghosting across his, the barest hints of touch sending shivers down her spine and goosebumps over her skin.

“I went to your home tonight, and you were gone.”

“You went to my home?” She needed to buy time. Whether it was a dream or some other form of connection, she needed to distract him from prying. He could not come to Spring.

She averted the path of her lips to his jaw, then his neck, the pulse jumping beneath them as she let her mouth rove, his fingers finding her sides and gripping lightly.

“So you admit it then? You aren’t there.” His voice was more desperate than she’d heard it before, a barely restrained groan in the words. She unsheathed her teeth, running them along the curve of his neck and feeling an almost imperceptible shudder roll through him. “Feyre…”

“I came here for you,” she whispered before biting gently down. Not entirely a lie. He groaned, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and imprinting themselves into her very soul. She wanted to pull that sound from him again.

“Feyre, please tell me where you are.” The words were breathless now, pleading.

She tried to remember how she did it last time, the mindspeak. It had seemed as easy as breathing, but he had instigated it. Could she push her thoughts to him simply by willing it?

I want you to touch me, Rhys.

The words rang out around them in the woods, but also within her mind. He gasped at them, clearly not expecting it. Either the demand or the delivery seemed to snap some sort of tether within him, and his hands were grasping her, lightning-fast he had her pressed against the ground, his lips on hers in the most luxurious push of heat. His tongue swept across the seam of her lips, hers opening without hesitation to meet his own. It wasn’t a battle, but a dance, their mouths moving in tandem as she buried her fingers in his hair. She could feel him slotted between her thighs, each press of his body into hers thrumming in time with that ancient magic that beat through the air.

It was everything like the kiss they’d shared beneath the willow, and yet nothing like it at all. He’d clearly been holding back, then, for whatever reason. The feelings rushing through her now were pure heat, meeting each touch of his with one as equally passionate. She wanted all of him.

I’ve begged to dream of you every night. Prayed for your hands on my body, your mouth on mine.

Just on your mouth, Feyre?

Her name was sinful on his tongue, in her mind, everywhere around her. She could only close her eyes and tip her head back as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat.

Everywhere. I want you everywhere. Every time. Mine, mine, mine.

She swore she could hear him sigh in her mind, the contented noise echoing through the chamber of her thoughts as he pulled her nightdress down her shoulders, her back tensing and arching as those strong lips took her breast into his mouth, teeth dragging softly across her nipple.

It felt more real than anything ever had. Whether it was that strange magic of Calanmai or something greater, she desperately hoped she wouldn’t wake so soon this time.

A gasp left her throat unabashedly as he pushed her nightdress from the other end, bunching it around her hips and ripping her underwear entirely off in one swift movement.

So beautiful.

She let herself whine, his breath against her bared sex. She’d never been close like this with anyone–never been so intimate, so exposed. But it felt as natural as breathing. She was on the edge of a cliff, ready to be pushed off to fly or fall.

Yes?

There was no hesitation. Yes.

And the stars exploded behind her eyes as his mouth closed around her, laving precise, lovely kisses across the part of her that only her own fingers had ever touched. He groaned into her, the vibrations nearly shattering her entirely.

“Gods, Rhys.” She had said it aloud.

Talk in my mind. Only you. Only ever you.

The sentiment was enough to have her writhing against his face again.

Only them, the two of them.

She felt his fingers below his tongue, rolling through the wetness of her and pushing inside, first one, then another as she sighed with the fullness of it all. The rightness of them joined in this way, in any way.

You’re perfect, Feyre.

His fingers moved in and out, touching some deep, sweet spot inside of her that not even she had ever found. She jolted, feeling undone at the ache inside of her and looking down at him as he consumed her, those vibrant, violet eyes staring up as he grinned against her.

He nipped at her, causing her to buck forward. It was exactly what he wanted, immediately taking her into his mouth and sucking on her, gently but firmly, and Feyre was lost.

She felt like she’d shattered into a million pieces there on the ground– like she’d erupted into shards of glass and reflected moonlight and was now dancing around the stars. Her vision was blurred and shaky around the edges, and she could distantly feel his hands on her.

Let me touch you, she begged as he came to lay beside her, his hands pushing her sweaty hair away from her forehead.

Not tonight, love. Just lay with me.

He tucked her into his side and she curled in against him, exhausted and boneless with the pleasure of it all.

Her breath evened, slowing in the cooling night air.

“Feyre, please tell me where you are.” She could feel something tugging around her, a stirring at the very edges of her awareness, and she knew their time was coming to a close. She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping his shirt in her fingers as he pulled up the straps to her nightdress, begging to hang on a bit longer.

“Is this real?” she whispered, the smell of him fading as the scents of her room re-emerged.

“As real as we are.” And when she blinked, only the rising sun of Spring through the windows was there to meet her eyes.

She closed them again, not wanting to move or break the spell that the dream had cast around her. She still felt sated, loose and boneless in her ebbing pleasure. She was sure if she reached between her legs she knew what she’d find, but she didn’t need to. The only way she could be more satisfied is if the dream itself had lasted longer.

She supposed she should be thankful; it had been longer and far more vivid than most. But that painful sense of longing–of missing– haunted her even more so for it. She gave up the fight of going back to sleep, choosing instead to take a bath before going downstairs to seek food. It was already later than she normally woke, but she was certain everyone would be sleeping in today regardless. As she rose from the bed, she noticed Calla’s form passed out on the floor in a pile of pillows and blankets. She must have come back in at some point during the night, but Feyre hadn’t heard her.

Feyre laughed to see her, splayed out, mouth wide open, and – a massive bruise on her neck. Feyre crept closer to examine her. It looked like…teeth marks?

Good lord.

She’d need to get the full story once Calla awoke.

She padded softly into the suite with the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and turning to look in the mirror.

She had to stifle the gasp that left her mouth with her hand.

Her wild golden hair was filled with leaves.

Feyre ran a bath and sat silently in it until the water grew cold.

+++

“So tell me again what happened?”

“He bit me. Like an animal.”

Feyre was cackling as they left her room, choosing to focus on the massive hickey on Calla’s neck and not her own inexplicit traveling through space she’d been possibly doing.

“He cornered me in the hall like some sort of prey.”

“Did you tell him to stop?” Calla paled.

“Well, not exactly. But I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to!”

“Well, did you want to?”

“Feyre! How can you even–” The laughing of the males from the dining room broke through their conversation, and Feyre saw Calla stiffen her spine and put a grin on her face. “If he wants to act like a brute and a savage, perhaps seeing what he’s done will make him feel bad.” She gave a grin as she turned and walked through the dining room doors.

“Good afternoon,” she said cheerfully, aiming a wild, challenging grin at Tamlin. They both sat down to fill their plates.

“What is that bruise?” Lucien all but gasped, pointing at Calla’s neck with what appeared to be abject horror.

It did look pretty horrendous.

Calla pointed to Tamlin. “Ask him. He did it.”

Lucien looked from Tamlin to Calla to Feyre and then back again. “Why does Calla have a bruise on her neck from you?” he asked with no small amount of amusement.

“I bit her,” Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. Feyre choked a laugh into her tea at his tone. “We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite. She seems to have a death wish,” he went on, cutting his meat. Calla glared at him like she was ready to pitch him into one of those great bonfires herself.

“So, if Calla can’t be bothered to listen to orders, then I can’t be held accountable for the consequences.”

“Accountable?” Calla sputtered, slamming both hands on the table as Feyre and Lucien both watched amusedly. “You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!”

Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. Feyre, too, was struggling to hide her laughter.

“While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room. Feyre managed the whole night indoors. Why couldn’t you?”

Feyre felt a flash of worry at the thought of her jaunt in the woods, but was immediately distracted by Calla erupting.

“Faerie pig!” she yelled and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. Calla stormed out of the dining hall, not having had the conversation she’d wanted to.

Feyre pointed at Tamlin. “You’d better bring her some flowers or something later. She might burn the manor down.”

The three talked about the success of the night before while they finished breakfast, Tamlin leaving to go look into something on the western border while Lucien and Feyre walked out to train.

“Tonight’s still a celebration, right?”

“Yes, less magic involved than Fire Night, but the music will be playing and the wine will be flowing.” Feyre saw Calla starting towards them on the training fields with her bow.

“Perfect,” said Feyre. “I have a plan, starting now and extending into tonight, and I would like you to play along.” He nodded, waving to Calla as she approached.

“I hope you both don’t mind. I wanted to blow off some steam.”

“No problem at all. Lucien and I were just talking about the kitchen maid that Tamlin was flirting with before he left.” Lucien choked on the big swig of water he’d taken.

“What?” Calla gritted out, the word clipped and harsh.

“Oh yes. This happens every year. News of his...feats…on Fire Night always spread quickly. He usually has a busy few weeks afterwards.” The sly fox caught onto her game immediately.

“We’d better start a queue outside the manor for his many lady callers,” Feyre joked.

Calla muttered something about pigs while she stomped off to the targets.

“She’s jealous.” Lucien seemed startled by the realization.

“Yes, and we’re using it to our advantage tonight.”

+++

The second evening of Calanmai felt like an entirely different celebration. Though there were still bonfires lit for miles, the feeling in the air itself was less intense and more vibrant. All around the Spring manor, massive tables had been brought out to celebrate, and people both from Spring’s own kitchens and the nearby towns brought food and drink.

As dusk descended, music could be heard echoing across the soft valleys, the fae around them eating and drinking and dancing. Tonight, there was none of the violent thrumming of the magic in Feyre’s veins, no yanking pull to the powers that left her feeling lost for breath. In a way, it was a relief, but there was the smallest feeling of aching emptiness to it that she couldn’t quite place.

Calla had spent the day sulking and making herself scarce again, though she had said she wasn’t missing the celebrations tonight. Feyre just hoped that the seeds she’d been sowing would be the final push that the two needed to see past their own noses.

The celebration was already in full swing by the time Calla and Feyre approached. Though Lucien and Tamlin had both warned them not to drink the faerie wine, Calla was already grasping at a goblet when they turned up at the first table.

“Easy with that,” Feyre admonished gently, but she wondered if perhaps one drink couldn’t hurt.

Calla rolled her eyes, but slowed her drinking, looking around at the revelry around them. “Sometimes I’m a bit taken aback by how lovely things can be here.” It was like music to Feyre’s ears.

She couldn’t help but smile a bit as Calla swayed to the music.

Not long after, Tamlin and Lucien joined them, and Feyre only hoped that Lucien had had success in passing on the message of her plan to Tamlin. Though the brief flash of mischief in his eyes as they met hers told her that he had.

“My ladies.” The males both sketched dramatic bows as the women laughed, the firelight glinting brightly against their gilded masks making them look even more ethereal than normal. “Would you honor me with a dance?” Tamlin held his hand out to Feyre, much to Calla’s very obvious chagrin.

Feyre laughed. “Of course, High Lord. Your reputation on the dance floor precedes you.” She placed her hand in his and let him sweep her away to the dancing group of fae nearby.

“How does she look?” Feyre whispered as they began to dance. Tamlin chuckled.

“Mad as a wet cat.”

“Perfect. We told her this morning that you were flirting with the kitchen staff.”

Tamlin’s eyes whipped to hers. “What?”

“Just wanted to gauge how well this might work. The answer was reassuring.” They spun around and Feyre caught sight of Calla. Lucien was talking to her animatedly, as they had planned. Calla looked like she was seething, so Feyre moved one of her hands up to Tamlin’s neck.

“Don’t panic. I think we’re almost there,” she laughed, and his eyes sparkled.

“You know, Feyre, I wasn’t sure what to think of you when you arrived at my court. But you’ve turned out to be a great investment.” Her eyes whipped back to his and she had the awareness to at least pretend to look offended through a smile. “And an even better friend.”

As always, the truth bit at her insides like an angry snake, writhing and hissing to be let out. Had Lucien told him what they’d discussed on the porch? How much could Tamlin know? She wanted so badly to tell them both the entire truth, but what would she be risking? Was it selfish to continue to hide from these people that she’d begun to care so deeply for?

She was so close to getting to Rhys now; she knew that it wasn’t long. What if Tamlin felt so betrayed by her that he kicked her out? She had nowhere else to go, and she wouldn’t chance it.

“You, too, Tamlin. Thank you for giving me a place to stay. And for all the rest of it, too.”

Despite her secrets, Feyre was truly happy here. She would be sad to leave it when the time came, and all she could do was hope that, somehow, she would be able to pull through and maintain the friendships she’d made here.

Suddenly, Calla was walking towards them with purpose, a maelstrom of emotion and determination on her face. Feyre gave Tamlin two quick pats on the chest.

“It’s working. She’s coming.” She hissed as his eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“It really worked?”

“Yes, shut up. Act normal.”

The two pretended to be surprised when Calla asked if she could cut in with a little more bite to her voice than normal. Feyre acquiesced with a smile.

“He’s all yours. Enjoy the festivities!” She found her way back to Lucien with a self-satisfied smile on her face.

“Feyre, you are truly diabolical. Perhaps we need you on the court of advisors for Spring with strategies like that.”

Calla and Tamlin were mid-dance, much closer than he and Feyre had been and looking far more intimate than she’d ever seen them.

“He may not ever say it, but I will. You don’t know what this means to him. Tamlin has spent the better part of his life feeling as though he’s done everything wrong and that people don’t want to be in his corner. Having someone else who truly wants to be his friend…well, I am certain you can figure out the impact of something like that.”

Feyre nodded again. “I know his family is gone.” Lucien looked down at her sadly. “ He’s the only one left.” Lucien nodded.

“They were all killed the same night. I didn’t know him yet, but all of Prythian knows the history.”

The same night.

Feyre couldn’t imagine the heartbreak. “What happened?”

“A messy story. Tamlin’s father ordered the wife and daughter of another High Lord killed–their son was Tamlin’s closest friend, and Tamlin’s father tricked him into betraying their location. In retaliation, the High Lord and his son came to kill Tamlin’s family. He got through Tamlin’s father, the Lady of Spring, and the two eldest sons before Tamlin killed him with the powers thrust upon him as the new High Lord.”

All his family gone, a new title and powers he didn’t understand or want, and the starting point being his own unwilling betrayal. No wonder he didn’t trust easily.

“And the other High Lord’s son?” Feyre wondered if the brief moment she saw Lucien’s jaw pulse in irritation was a trick of the light.

“He became the High Lord of Night.”

Night. The only court Feyre still knew next to nothing about. That High Lord, with his powers of darkness and ability to turn others into a spray of bloody mist at the flick of his wrist. She had wondered if he might allow Rhys to bring her back to the Night Court with him if she managed to get him out from Under the Mountain, but now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps he hated humans.

A massive log from a fire nearby cracked and exploded into a show of sparks as everyone in the crowd whooped and hollered, the festivities beginning to ramp up.

“Shall we dance, Strategizer of Spring?” Feyre laughed and took Lucien’s hand, allowing him to lead her back into the revelry and pushing out all thoughts and worries of inter-court relations.

+++

They danced and drank until nearly dawn, Tamlin and Calla quietly disappearing as the night went on. Though Feyre was exhausted, sleep wouldn’t find her, and the gray light on the horizon creeping into the room signified that she wasn’t going to.

She stepped out of the warm comfort of her bed, padding across the still-dim room to her table by the window. She used her favorite power that she’d learned from Day to illuminate herself, grinning as she became her own lamp, the soft glow washing over the reading table. It was a good way for her to practice doing magic while focusing on other things. Though she’d improved in her stamina, using too much magic still exhausted her. Lucien had told her it would be like working a muscle, and she felt proud at how much stronger she’d become.

She put the book on Day aside, instead grabbing the large, dark book on Night Court from the other side of the table. After her conversation with Lucien, she wanted to know more about the High Lord of Night and how plausible it might be for her to one day take up residence in his court. Did he hate humans? Would he even allow her there?

If she could help break everyone free from the curse, perhaps he would make an exception if Rhys could argue to his High Lord that she was a special case.

How could Rhys live in a court under such a terrifying ruler? At least he hadn’t been the one to slaughter Tamlin’s family, but if the tension was still so high between them that even Lucien felt tense discussing it, perhaps it was good she’d left Rhys’s court out of it when she’d told Lucien about him.

She flipped through the first sections: trade routes, powers, landscape. The geography of Night was interesting. Unlike the other courts, Night seemed to ruled over a vast expanse of nothing in conjunction with two smaller courts: Illyria and the Court of Nightmares. It didn’t sound particularly promising in terms of a warm welcome. Was she to break Rhys out from Under the Mountain only to have him trapped under another? Would Tamlin perhaps let him stay, too? Maybe they could lie and say he’d been from a different court originally.

Surely, Feyre could explain the situation to him–if she even made it that far.

She kept getting ahead of herself in that regard. Who was to say she’d ever even see the light of day again after going Under the Mountain? And that’s if Calla and Tamlin didn’t manage to break the curse first. They’d certainly seemed more intimate than ever tonight.

She sighed, rubbing her temple as she flipped forward onto the powers imbued in the line of High Lords. There was a strange manipulation and control of night and darkness, winnowing, and misting of enemies with a thought. There, below it all, was what appeared to be a hastily scrawled note.

Upon the installation of the most recent High Lord, the abilities of flight and daemati have been added to this list circumstantially.

Daemati.

It was the High Lord of Night that she drew that dark power from, then. On top of all the other terrifying powers he had, he could manipulate minds, too.

She turned the page and the soft glow of her light guttered out.

There, plain for all to see, was the High Lord of Night in all his glory.

Familiar violet eyes, raven’s-wing dark hair, and lips that had explored her mouth and body more intimately than anyone else ever had.

Rhys was not a subject of the High Lord of Night. There would be no convincing him to allow the two of them to live there should they survive.

Rhys was the High Lord of Night, and if he hadn’t been able to defeat Amarantha, what hope did she possibly have?

Taglist: @cauldronblssd @buttercupcookies-blog @witch-and-her-witcher @yeonalie

[letters-unsending]

No. 46

////

“You left. You chose to leave. Not many get to, you know that?”

“I should let you have this. I should let you have your peace–your normal life with those fake papers and fake memories. I think it would be the kind thing to do. But you asked me to find you once they..removed you and I honor my word, if nothing else. I owe you this, [Hero]. I owe you so much more.”

Hero sipped their coffee as they flipped through the notebook. When they’d returned from the library, they’d noticed an extra notepad in their backpack, wedged between their [class] textbook and laptop. It was slim and black, like a misplaced slip of shade. Hero assumed they’d accidentally snagged it from the neighboring desk, but as they peeked at the first page, they discovered their name, penned in their own handwriting over the top line. The date beside the signature was more than four years ago.

The initial pages were full of diagrams. There were outlines of armor and weapons, fringed by impossible chains of numbers and equations. Deeper into the book, the math grew tangled and senseless, sprouting nonsense conclusions and diverging into page-long tangents. Rants spilled over sketches.

After pages of slantwise and ragged scrawl, the neat lines of text came as a surprise. They were written by a different hand, one characterized by tight loops and impeccably even spaces.

“You can choose to stop reading. If you care about this normal life of yours, if going to college and getting a job fulfills you, you should discard this book. Burn it. Shred it. Tossing it leaves too much risk.”

“I know you won’t though. You’re curious. You always asked questions and pushed limits–that’s what got you into trouble. It’s also what made you the best. You were are a hero, [Civilian Name], and you should’ve never needed me, of all people, to remind of you that. But I will. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to remember.”

A few of the next pages were ripped out, leaving shredded tufts. Hero traced the paper’s ragged edge and set their coffee down. They looked over their shoulder, then out the window, and then down the hall, as if expecting someone to break through the woodwork and declare this was all a ruse. The dining room clock ticked. The din of passersby and cars warbled stories below.

“None of the books you gave me make sense. There’s no answer. You told me there was an answer.”

“I wrote down a few memories from the missions we shared. I never knew you as a person…I didn’t know your name or face, not until the night before you left. But I hope my recollections may jog your memory. There are also some pictures, a summary of your missions as a Hero, and a list of the few things you did share with me when we were together.”

“If you do remember, there’s a place we used to meet–”

“I can’t figure this out without you. We were so close to an answer. I don’t know why you left, but we’re the city is running out of time.”

[eldritch-spouse]

Having Rinx cum all over my belongings and overestimulating him to the point he passes out sounds incredibly hot to me + I'd love to read a scenario of it 👉👈 also RIP Nena when she has to clean all of that 😔🙏

[Fem reader.]

" HHNGH-! "

He climaxes just as hard as the first time, curving forward, abdomen flexing with each throb of his overstimulated cock as ropes of it cover the personal desk you've asked to install in this room. Thick and pretty, dripping off the cases, pens and markers obscenely. You stroke over his length faster, making sure you get the most out of his orgasm, even when Rinx starts to whimper and inflate his chest in a desperate attempt to keep air in his body, when he's got nothing more than pitiful dribbles to offer.

" Fuck yes, good job! " You coo, releasing his flushed girth. " Look at that mess, Rinx. Look at it. "

He may have an orb-like head, but you can tell he's looking. " Now everything here belongs to you too. "

He makes a low, guttural sound, very pleased, if the jolt of his slick cock has anything to say about it. A fluff-tipped tail coils around your leg while large green hands clench and unclench, he's grounding himself. " Mmn, are- Are we doing the entire room? "

" Duh. "

This is proving itself to be much more fun than you anticipated. Although, you had to come to Vesper to make it a reality -Even if he doesn't need to know about every spicy thing you and the King get up to- Because, obviously, at some point Rinx would start to shoot blanks. And that would very quickly put an end to the fun. The offered concoction Rinx ingested not only sped his metabolism but made it so he'd feel pain if he didn't orgasm systematically. So really, it's the perfect brew. You think Vesper might have exaggerated, but your self-proclaimed husband is a demonlord, so you'll assume he can handle it like a big boy.

You look around, thinking, fingers leisurely wrapped around the other's girth. A good chunk of your belongings are already coated in a degenerate shine, the smell of musk and sex is spreading in the air.

Naturally, you're the one doing most of the work here, Rinx's massive hands don't make for very efficient handjobs. In a way, that's to your favor, he masturbates less often and you can exchange something as simple as stroking him off for a reward. It's not as if the Icon of Greed can blame his wife for being greedy, right?

" Hm... Do you want to do the closet or the bed now? "

Rinx sways slightly, he's more busy trying to get you to rub circles over his cockhead than he is making sense of the words. You squeeze to get his attention.

" O- Ahn- The... " A chubby finger points vaguely in the direction of the closet. The grin spreading on your face is almost sick.

Taking the fancy sliding doors from the beast of your new closet, you open it wide, revealing a plethora of clothes, a forest of them really, all neatly organized and ironed. Rinx wastes little time, fumbling until one of the shelves is pulled forward, the panty one.

Ah yes, a man of culture.

" Hahah, of course that's the first one you'd pick. "

Nonetheless, your pumping increases in speed, approving the demonlord's choice. Rinx makes low, satisfied noises, shivering hard, massive paws gripping onto the top of the wardrobe while he tries to piston in tandem with your motions. You have to slap his thigh when he gets too rowdy and nearly slips out your grasp. Senseless animal...

The urge to rile him up is immense. " You know what? If you do a good enough job, I might just pick one of them to wear. "

" Ffuck- Really? Nng... " His grip makes something audibly splinter.

" Yep, but you have to give me what I want first. " Both hands work at him now, merciless and thorough. You pay close attention to his tells, giggling when the greedy one's legs tense and he starts to curve again, twitching.

He comes with an embarrassingly loud cry, hips snapping forward. Every subsequent glob of seed smears grossly on your pretty undergarments, ripping quieter panting moans out of Rinx. Just like before, you make sure he holds nothing back.

The demon sighs, looking at the results, having to brace himself on the wall for a couple of moments. The King looks winded and spent, but the member between those green legs is nowhere near ready to retreat into its slit.

Studying his work with pervy, almost childish glee, you fish a pair of ocean blue panties out, watching it drip his cum to the floor before sliding the fabric on, a disgustingly pleasant shudder racing up your spine as the sensation of his warm tribute spreads on your privates. You can't resist palming yourself a little, and when you look back at Rinx, he's observing intensely, a stream of precum hanging.

The shelf is pushed back in, another one pulled out. Bras. Ooh yes, that's next.

Grabbing your "lord" by the weeping cock, you drag him back into position and lick the seed off your free hand. Rinx tries to formulate a sentence, but you're already jerking him again. He settles for groaning, almost pained.

" Hurry up, Rinx! You still have to come on me before this is over. "

You don't know what language he's swearing in, but the words apparently motivate him to fuck your hand like a madman.

What a fun evening.

" My Queen? " Nena wipes her glasses, maybe in disbelief, maybe because the humidity in the air might be fogging them.

" Yeah? "

" Am I getting a raise for this? "

She has to step around carefully not to step on fluids and smear them. The imp takes in the ruined state of the room and twitches her nostrils at the scent of cum and fresh lust in the air. It's alarming. Her King lies static on the ground, one hand cupping his genitals protectively, the other curled over his chest. For a second, she thinks he might have ejaculated to death in what must be the most bizarre way for a royal of Greed to die- But then she sees his chest rise and fall smoothly, relaxing.

You seem chipper, cheeks heated and a bright smile on your face. Your front is no less decorated than the rest of the room... Nena can only curiously wonder if this is the type of recreational activities royal couples are into these days. Far be it of her to judge.

" Eh, I dunno. " You shrug. " Ask Rinx when he gets back up. I'd help you out, but my arms are sore, you see. "

This must be what it's like for Lacai, Nena thinks to herself.