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fangdokja · 2 days ago

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🔞Run all you want, little omega—I love the chase.

❤︎ Synopsis. Bound by fear and desire, an omega finds herself ensnared by a cruel, possessive alpha who thrives on her pain and submission, claiming her body and soul as his own. As she struggles to escape his grasp, she learns that freedom may come at a price too terrifying to pay.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Alpha! Wolf Hybrid x Reader

♡ Novelette. #1 - Marked and Mated

♡ Word Count. 10,767

♡ TW. non-con, rape, blood play, overstimulation, forced oral, prey x predator dynamic, fear play, hunting play, permanent bodily injury, slut shaming, objectification, psychological torment, erotic horror elements, loss of virginity, mature language, fingering, humiliation, degradation, forced orgasms, sadism, BDSM, groping, omegaverse dynamics, biting, physical assault and violence, choking / breath play

The forest is alive with the whispers of fear. Your breath comes in sharp, shallow bursts, each one slicing through the silence as you sprint through the thick underbrush. The fading light casts skeletal shadows across the forest floor, turning every twisted branch into a claw and every rustling leaf into the promise of something far worse. Your heartbeat is a wild drum, a desperate cadence that seems to echo the heavy footsteps closing in behind you.

“You can’t hide from me, little omega.” His voice rumbles like thunder through the twilight, a low, predatory growl that seems to wrap around you, suffocating and inescapable.

You don’t look back. You’ve learned by now that it’s a mistake to give him the satisfaction of seeing your terror. Instead, you focus on the path ahead—or what little you can see of it. The forest is dense here, the trees towering and gnarled, their roots eager to snare your stumbling feet. You’ve always prided yourself on your strength, your defiance, your ability to stand tall even when the world tried to bend you. But now, as the alpha’s guttural laugh reverberates through the trees, you feel the first cracks in your resolve.

“Oh, I’ll give you credit for trying,” he purrs, his amusement curling through the air like smoke. “But we both know how this ends, don’t we?”

You grit your teeth, pushing harder, your muscles screaming in protest. You’ve never been one to back down, not even when he first set his sights on you. The cat and the wolf, they’d said. A pairing as impossible as it was inevitable. And yet, here you are, the prey in a hunt you can’t seem to win.

He’s always known what you are beneath the mask. An omega masquerading as an alpha, a fragile shell of dominance that he’d seen through from the very beginning. It’s not your fault, really. Survival demanded the façade. But survival is a cruel master, and it’s brought you to him. The predator who doesn’t just want to unmask you but to rip you apart, piece by trembling piece, until there’s nothing left but the shattered remains of your pride.

The sound of snapping branches draws closer, and you know he’s toying with you now. Letting you think you have a chance, letting you run just far enough to taste freedom before he rips it away. The ground beneath you is uneven, littered with roots and fallen leaves that threaten to trip you with every step. The forest seems to close in, the trees looming, their twisted limbs reaching for you like greedy hands.

“Run,” he commands, his voice a cruel whisper that somehow slices through the cacophony of your pounding heart and ragged breath. “Run faster, little omega. Make it fun for me.”

Your lungs burn, your legs ache, but you don’t stop. You can’t. The thought of what awaits you if he catches you… no, when he catches you… is too much to bear. His scent lingers in the air, sharp and musky, an oppressive reminder that no matter how far you go, he’s always there. Watching. Waiting. Hunting.

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The chase is relentless, and despite your efforts, you feel his breath hot on your neck, his large hands almost grabbing hold of your tail. Panic flutters in your chest, and you know that if he catches you, there's no telling what he'll do. The trees blur together as you sprint, your sides burning with exertion.

You spot a small clearing up ahead, and you make a desperate dash for it, hoping for a moment's respite.

But as you leap into the open, you realize your mistake too late.

The clearing is a trap, surrounded by thorny bushes and a steep ravine, leaving you no escape.

He emerges from the shadows, his teeth bared in a vicious smile. "Looks like you're mine now, omega," he sneers, his eyes flashing with triumph. Your stomach turns to lead as you realize you're cornered, the predator closing in for the kill.

"No, please," you whimper, your voice cracking with fear as he prowls closer.

He stops a few feet away, his towering form casting a long shadow over you. "You know what you need," he says, his voice low and commanding. "You need a strong alpha to show you your place."

You grit your teeth, refusing to give in to his taunts, your eyes flashing with defiance.

But his scent is overwhelming, a potent mix of musk and power that sends a thrill through your body despite your fear.

"I'll never be your omega," you spit out, your voice stronger than you feel.

He laughs, a cold, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "We'll see about that."

As you remain defiant, your eyes never leaving his, the alpha wolf's smile only widens. He seems to enjoy the challenge, his eyes gleaming with a newfound excitement.

He takes a step closer, and you react instinctively, lashing out with your claws and teeth. You manage to scratch his muscular arm with your claws, drawing a thin line of crimson against his otherwise perfect skin.

He grunts in surprise, but instead of retreating, his eyes light up with a predatory thrill. "So you want to play hard to get, huh?" He says, his voice thick with amusement. "Fine, I can do that."

With a sudden burst of speed, he lunges at you, his powerful jaws snapping shut around your neck.

You yelp in pain and surprise as his teeth dig in, the pressure enough to make you dizzy but not enough to break the skin. He lifts you off the ground, your legs kicking wildly in the air. His grip tightens, and you feel the world start to spin around you.

"Struggle all you want, it'll only make it better," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending waves of fear and disgust through your body. You thrash in his grip, trying to break free, but his strength is overwhelming.

His teeth clamp down harder, a clear warning of what's to come if you don't submit. You can feel your energy waning, the fear and pain making it difficult to keep fighting.

He drags you through the thorny bushes, tearing at your clothes and skin. The pain is intense, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream. He tosses you onto the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of you.

Before you can recover, he's on top of you, his heavy weight pinning you down. His clawed hands rip away the remnants of your shirt, exposing your bruised and bleeding skin to the cool night air, as you thrash and squirm in response.

The alpha wolf's grin widens as you fight back with renewed vigor, his eyes gleaming with excitement at your resistance. He grabs your wrists in his massive hands, pinning them to the ground above your head with surprising gentleness.

"Oh, you're going to be so much fun to break," he murmurs, his tongue flicking out to taste the blood that trickles from the scratches you've managed to inflict. His weight shifts, pressing his thick erection against your pelvis, and you can feel the heat radiating from it even through your torn pants.

With a quick, efficient movement, he rips your pants away, exposing your vulnerable, untouched sex to his hungry gaze. You try to buck him off, but his grip on your wrists is unyielding. "Don't worry, bitch," he purrs, "I'll make sure you enjoy this. Eventually."

His other hand moves down your body, his claws tracing the lines of your ribs and stomach with feather-light precision, sending shivers of fear and unwanted arousal through you.

Your hiss pierces the night air, a mix of anger and fear, as you furiously claw at the hybrid wolf's chest. Your nails dig into his flesh, leaving shallow trails of blood behind.

He snarls, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly, but instead of retaliating, he seems to be getting more and more turned on by your resistance. "Such a feisty little omega," he murmurs, his eyes darkening with lust. "But we both know who's in control here."

Ignoring your futile struggles, he lowers his head and runs his tongue along the column of your throat, savoring your taste. You try to turn away, but his jaw clamps down on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to make you whimper. He releases your neck, his eyes locking onto yours. "You're mine now," he growls, "And I'll have every part of you."

“I have a mate already!” You scream a panicked lie, remaining defiant.

He laughs, a dark, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "A mate?" He repeats, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

"You think that means anything to me? I'm going to fuck you until you forget his scent, until you're begging for me to knot you." With those words, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a brutal, claiming kiss. His tongue forces its way past your teeth, tasting the sweetness of your fear and the metallic tang of your blood.

You try to bite him, but he anticipates your move, his teeth clamping down on your lower lip, drawing more blood. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You're mine, omega," he whispers, his breath hot against your face.

With a sudden, brutal yank, he pulls you closer, his erection now pressing painfully against your stomach. His hand moves between your legs, his claws digging into your tender flesh as he rips away the last of your clothing.

You scream into the night, the sound piercing and desperate, but it's swallowed by the forest's indifferent embrace. The cold ground beneath you is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your desperate fight against his overwhelming strength is met with a sadistic chuckle as the hybrid wolf seems to take pleasure in your futile struggles. He pins your arms above your head with one paw, his other hand moving to your breasts.

He squeezes them roughly, eliciting a gasp of pain that turns into a whine when his claws dig in slightly. "You're so delicate," he says, his voice a mix of mockery and lust. "So easily broken."

You manage to free one arm and deliver a weak punch to his jaw, but it barely phases him. He just laughs and captures your wrist again, his grip like iron. "That's the spirit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"But it's not going to save you." His clawed hand slides down your body, teasing over your stomach and finally coming to rest between your legs. You try to clench your thighs together, but his weight makes it impossible.

"Open up," he commands, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You know what I want."

As you refuse to give in to his demand, the alpha hybrid wolf's eyes flash with anger and arousal. He leans down, his teeth bared, and sinks them into your inner thigh, biting as hard as he can.

You scream out in pain, the sound piercing the quiet forest night. Your body arches off the ground, your legs instinctively trying to close, but his weight holds you down firmly. His bite is deep, and you can feel the warmth of your blood trickling down your thigh, mixing with the scent of your fear and his own lust.

He releases your wrists for a moment, only to grab your legs and force them apart with his powerful hands. You kick and struggle, but it's useless. His teeth dig in deeper, the pain unbearable, and your body responds despite your mind's protest.

The hybrid wolf's teeth tear into your sensitive flesh as he forcefully spreads your legs apart, the pain from his bite making your body tense.

He doesn't give you a chance to recover as he dives between your thighs, his hot, wet tongue sliding over your clit with a brutal lack of finesse.

You try to clench your muscles to avoid his assault, but the pain and fear make it impossible to maintain. He laps at you harshly, his tongue rough and uncaring as he tastes your resistance. You can feel the beginnings of an unwelcome arousal building within you, despite the agony of his bite marks in your thigh.

He smirks at your involuntary reaction, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he sees the beginnings of arousal shimmering in your gaze despite your pain. He knows he's getting to you, and it only makes him more determined to claim what he sees as his.

His tongue swirls around your clit, the roughness of his licks sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your body. You try to pull away, but his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, holding you in place as he continues to ravage your pussy.

As he fucks you with his tongue and teeth, your body betrays you. Your hips begin to buck against his mouth, your moans and screams growing louder despite your attempts to stifle them.

Your nails dig into the dirt, desperate for something to hold onto as the pleasure-pain overwhelms you. His teeth graze your clit, and you feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of unwanted ecstasy that you can't escape from.

He pulls away from your throbbing clit, panting heavily, his tongue and teeth coated with your juices. "You're so fucking delicious," he says, his voice thick with lust.

He grabs your face with one hand, his claws digging into your cheeks painfully as he forces your eyes to meet his. "Admit it, omega. You want this just as much as I do."

“N-No…!!!” You stutter out in defiance.

The hybrid wolf's grin turns feral at your continued defiance. He loves the taste of your fear and your unwilling arousal, and your refusal to submit only makes him hungrier.

He dives back between your legs, his teeth and tongue attacking your clit with renewed vigor. You try to turn your face away, biting your lip to keep from moaning, but the pressure is too much. His claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you in place as he licks and bites with a primal hunger.

"You can't hide it," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Your body betrays you."

With a vicious swipe of his tongue, he sends you spiraling over the edge, your body shuddering with an unwanted climax.

The pleasure is intense, as you moan unwittingly loudly, but the humiliation is even stronger.

Tears stream down your cheeks as he laps up your essence, his eyes never leaving yours. "Mmm," he hums, savoring the taste. "You're going to fucking scream for me soon enough."

As the hybrid wolf's tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, you feel your body responding in ways you never wanted. Your pussy clenches around his tongue, and your hips buck involuntarily as you try to push him away.

But every move you make seems to only excite him more, his licks growing more demanding, his teeth grazing you in a way that's both painful and exhilarating.

Despite your mental resistance, your body is succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure, your walls tightening around his tongue as if begging for more.

You can't help but moan, the sound ripped from your throat as you feel another orgasm building. The alpha wolf's eyes gleam with victory as he sees the effect he's having on you, and he doubles down, his tongue fucking you with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

You're so close, so close, and you hate yourself for it. "N-no," you murmur, your voice weak and trembling. "Please, stop."

He chuckles darkly, the vibration of his mirth sending more waves of pleasure through your body. "You don't mean that," he says, his breath hot against your swollen, sensitive folds.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to admit how much you crave it." With a final, brutal swipe of his tongue, you cum again jolting and moaning helplessly; before he pulls away abruptly, leaving you gasping and shaking with need.

The hybrid wolf can't help but growl in approval at your body's betrayal, his eyes locked on the glistening wetness of your pussy, now quivering and begging for his touch. He licks his lips, savoring the sweet, musky taste of your arousal.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust, "Fucking squirting all over me like a good breeding bitch." His eyes darken with possession as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the desperate look in your eyes.

He knows you're close to breaking, and that's just how he loves it.

With a smug grin, he shifts his weight, releasing your legs from his vice-like grip. You try to scurry away, but he's too quick, grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you back towards him.

He flips you onto your stomach, your bruised and scratched body now exposed to the damp, cold earth. "You're going to take me now," he says, his voice a mix of command and promise. "And you're going to love it."

“N-No! Stop! Please!” You scream weakly, fighting back desperately and defiantly.

Your weak screams of protest fall on his deaf ears as the alpha wolf forced you onto your stomach, his strong arms easily overpowering your feeble attempts to escape. The cold, damp earth presses against your skin, making you feel even more vulnerable and exposed.

He straddles you, his heavy bodyweight a stark reminder of his dominance and your helplessness. The sound of him unbuckling his pants is a harsh, jolting reality check, and your heart races as you feel the hot, thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

Your squirming and desperate attempts to fight him off only seem to excite the hybrid wolf more. He uses his powerful thighs to spread your legs apart, his cock sliding against your wet, trembling pussy.

Despite your fear, your body is betraying you, lubricating his shaft with your unwilling arousal. His grip on your ankles tightens as he leans over you, his massive body casting a shadow over yours. You can feel his breath against your neck, hot and ragged, as he whispers, "You're going to take all of me, little omega. Every damn inch."

He pushes forward, the head of his cock breaching your tight entrance.

You scream, the pain searing through you like a knife, your nails digging into the soil as you try to find stabilization. "Fuck," he groans, his voice strained with effort. "You're so tight, so fucking tight."

He doesn't pause, continuing to thrust into you, each movement driving the air from your lungs and sending shockwaves of agony through your body. The hybrid wolf's cock stretches you open, the pain of your hymen tearing a white-hot brand across your consciousness. You feel your body clench around him, desperately trying to push him out, but he's unrelenting.

With a savage grin, he slams into you, burying his cock to the hilt with a roar of triumph. The force of his thrusts sends shockwaves of agony through you, and you can't help but sob into the dirt.

Your vision blurs, the world narrowing down to the searing pain between your legs.

"You're mine now," he growls, his teeth nipping at your neck. "You're going to be my good little omega, aren't you?" His grip on your ankles tightens, his nails digging in as he pulls back and slams into you again.

Each thrust feels like a declaration of ownership, a claim that you can't escape.

You can feel your insides stretching to accommodate his monstrous length, your body trying to adjust to the brutal intrusion. Your breath hitches as he hits a spot deep within you, sending a bolt of pleasure-pain that makes you cry out.

You try to push up onto your hands, but the pain is too much, and you collapse back onto the ground. His hips rock against yours, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the clearing.

The smell of your blood and arousal fills the air, a potent mix that seems to drive him even wilder. "You're going to love being my omega," he says, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to love the way I fuck you, the way I fill you up with my cum."

The alpha wolf's massive cock continues to pound into you without mercy, your body jolting with every brutal thrust. You can feel him stretching you to your limits, filling you completely and claiming you in the most primal of ways.

His hips slap against your bruised flesh, the sound echoing through the night like a twisted mating call.

He's not just fucking you; he's marking you, branding you as his property.

Your own desperate cries are muffled by the dirt as you try to scream through the pain, your voice hoarse from the effort.

"You're mine," he repeats, his voice a deep growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Fucking MINE." He bites down hard on the back of your neck, his teeth piercing the tender skin.

You can feel the warmth of your own blood mixing with the sticky sweat coating your body.

It's a claim, a promise of what's to come.

The pain is so intense that it's almost a relief when the initial agony of your lost virginity fades into a dull, persistent throb.

He's not gentle, not even a little.

His thrusts are deep and powerful, a relentless battering ram against your slick, abused walls. You're not sure if you're crying or if it's just the sweat and tears mixing on your face, but you know you can't keep fighting.

Your body feels like it's being torn apart, and every time he hits that spot deep inside you, you feel a strange mix of pain and something else… something that you hate admitting could be pleasure.

"P-Please," you manage to gasp out, your voice a broken whisper. "P-Please, it h-hurts."

He laughs darkly, his breath hot against your neck. "Good," he says, his hips moving faster. "It's supposed to fucking hurt. It's supposed to remind you of who's in charge."

His teeth graze your skin, and you can feel his knot swelling at the base of his cock, preparing to claim you in the most primal way possible.

As you lay there, sobbing into the cold, unforgiving earth, the hybrid wolf's hips piston into you without mercy. His teeth are still latched onto the back of your neck, his knot swelling with every brutal thrust. You feel his dominance in every inch of your being, a stark, painful reminder that you are utterly at his mercy.

Your body shakes with the effort to withstand his relentless assault, each thrust driving his knot further into you, stretching you to the point of agony.

The alpha wolf's knot swells further, reaching its full size, and lodges itself inside you, effectively trapping him within your body.

You feel a new level of fullness, a pressure that makes you gasp and whine, your body trying to reject the unyielding intrusion.

His movements become more erratic, his growls deeper as he starts to lose control, his hips slamming into you without rhythm or care. "Take it," he snarls, his voice a feral rumble. "Take every fucking inch."

Your own voice is lost in a sob as you feel his knot expanding even further, the pain a white-hot brand across your consciousness.

Your body tenses around him, trying to force him out, but it's a futile effort.

His grip on your ankles tightens, his nails digging deeper into your flesh as he starts to fuck you harder, his knot moving within you, the sensation a mix of agony and something else. Something that makes your body respond despite your mind's screaming protests.

"You're mine," he says again, his voice a harsh growl. "My omega, my wife." His thrusts become erratic, his breaths coming in pants as he starts to lose control.

You can feel the warmth of his seed building, his cock pulsing within you. "You're going to take it," he says, his teeth pressing down on your neck. "You're going to take every drop of my cum, and you're going to love it."

You whimper, your body trembling under the onslaught of pain and unwanted pleasure. The knot inside you is unbearable, stretching you further than you ever thought possible. You can't move, can't do anything but endure as he takes his fill of you, your body his plaything.

His hips slam into your bruised ass, the force of his thrusts making you see stars. "Yes," he hisses, his grip on your ankles tightening. "You're going to milk me dry."

You feel his knot swell even more, the pressure unbearable, and you know what's coming. He's going to fill you with his cum, claiming you in the most primal, irrevocable way. You try to fight, to push him away, but your body is too weak, too used.

Your sobs become screams as he starts to cum, his hot seed flooding your insides, filling you up until you can't take it anymore. His teeth dig into your neck, holding you in place as he marks you, his orgasm a violent, possessive act that leaves you shaking.

The alpha wolf's hips slow, his cock still pulsing inside you. He pulls out slightly, only to push back in, his knot keeping him connected to you.

The feeling is agonizing, but you can't help the way your body responds, your pussy clenching around him, milking him dry. He groans with pleasure, his hips bucking against you as he empties himself into you. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice a dark, sated growl. "Good little omega."

As he cums, you feel something within you shift. The pain is still there, but it's overlaid with a strange, primal need.

Your body seems to crave his seed, your walls tightening around him as if trying to keep him inside you.

It's as if your body knows what he's done, that he's marked you as his, and it's trying to accept it, to submit to his dominance.

You hate yourself for it, but the feeling is undeniable.

He pulls out of you with a wet pop, his knot shrinking until it's no longer lodged inside you. You collapse onto the ground, your body trembling with exhaustion and the aftershocks of your forced climax.

The alpha wolf stands over you, his cock still hard and gleaming with your blood and combined juices. He licks his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. "Look at the mess you've made," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're going to clean me up, aren't you?"

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But, then the alpha wolf's eyes narrow as he watches you pathetically try to crawl away, your body trembling from the intense pain and pleasure of his rough claiming.

His patience wears thin at your continuous refusal to submit, his lip curling in a snarl.

He strides towards you, his massive form casting a shadow that makes you feel even smaller and more vulnerable.

You try to scuttle away faster, your legs shaking with the effort, but your weakened state only makes your escape attempts more pitiful.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snarls, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

He grabs you by the scruff of your neck, his grip firm yet gentle in comparison to his earlier brutality. "You're mine now, little omega. There's no running from that."

His eyes are filled with a mix of anger and hurt, his pupils dilated with desire. He shakes his head, the disappointment in his gaze almost as painful as his earlier bites. "I didn't expect you to be this stubborn," he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. Your body aches from his rough handling, but a part of you can't deny the strange, dark thrill that runs through you at his words.

"Please," you croak out, your voice hoarse from your earlier screams. "Let me go."

He tilts his head to the side, studying you with a predatory gaze. "Why should I?" he asks, his voice deceptively calm.

"You're mine now. You've felt what I can do to you. Why would you want to leave?" He runs a claw lightly down your spine, the threat implicit in the gesture. You shiver, your body responding despite your fear.

"I don't…I don't want this," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please, let me go."

The alpha hybrid wolf's grip on your neck tightens for a brief moment before releasing you entirely. He steps back, watching you with a cold, calculating gaze. "You think you can just walk away?" he sneers.

"You're mine now. You're going to bear my pups, and you're going to do it willingly." His eyes flash with a dangerous intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "If you keep fighting me, I'll just have to get more creative with your punishments."

You manage to push yourself onto your hands and knees, your body still shaking from the overwhelming pain and humiliation.

You spit dirt out of your mouth and look up at him, your true inner will finally bursting out in frustration, your eyes full of defiance despite the tears that stain your cheeks. "I'll never be yours, you damn bastard rapist," you hiss through gritted teeth. "Never."

The hybrid wolf's expression darkens, his eyes narrowing to slits. "We'll see about that," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

He takes a step closer, and you can't help but flinch, your body instinctively remembering the pain he's capable of inflicting. "You're going to learn your place, little omega. And when you do, you'll beg for my cock."

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As you manage to stumble to your feet, the alpha wolf watches you with a predatory gaze, his eyes tracking your every movement. He seems to revel in the power he holds over you, his chest heaving with each breath as if your fear and pain are a sweet scent that fuels his arousal.

With a wicked smile, he steps aside, allowing you to run, his tail flicking in anticipation of the chase.

The alpha wolf's smile widens into a full-blown grin as he watches you limp away, your bruised and bloodied body a testament to his dominance. "Run, little omega," he says, his voice a dark promise. "But remember, I'll be waiting for you. And when I catch you again, I'll fuck you until you can't ever fucking walk again."

You stumble through the underbrush, the pain of his knotting still resonating through your body.

You're not sure how much more of this you can take, but you know you can't just give up. You have to find a way out of this nightmare, a way to escape him and his twisted games.

The forest blurs around you, the pain and fear clouding your vision. You don't know where you're going, only that you have to get away.

The hybrid wolf watches you go, his smile never leaving his face. He knows you won't get far, not in your current state. He's toyed with you enough to know your limits, to know how much you can handle before you break.

But he also knows that the chase is part of the thrill, the anticipation of the hunt making the eventual capture all the more satisfying.

He lets you run, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic glee as he watches the desperation in your movements.

You stumble through the underbrush, your legs wobbly from the rough treatment he's just given you. You're not a fast runner, not with the pain radiating from your torn hymen and the heavy weight of his cum filling you.

But you force yourself to go on, driven by a primal need to escape the monster that's claimed you.

Twigs snap beneath your feet, leaves crunching as you push yourself harder, ignoring the sting of your bruised flesh against the rough ground.

Behind you, the alpha wolf laughs, the sound echoing through the trees like a dark promise.

You know he's not really letting you go; he's just enjoying the thrill of the chase.

His powerful form moves with an eerie grace, his eyes locked on yours, a twisted smile playing across his face. The thought of what he'll do to you when he catches you sends a fresh wave of terror through your body, and you push yourself to go faster.

You stumble through the forest, the pain in your legs growing with each step. Your heart races in your chest, the fear of his pursuit driving you forward even as your body screams for rest.

The moon casts a silver glow through the canopy, lighting your path but also making you feel more exposed.

You can hear the rustle of leaves as he stalks you, his movements deliberate and calculated.

He's enjoying this, you realize with a sickening feeling in your stomach.

He's enjoying making you run.

The alpha hybrid wolf's laughter echoes through the trees, a taunting, predatory sound that sends a chill down your spine. "You can't escape me, little omega," he calls out, his voice deep and resonant. "Wherever you go, I'll find you."

The words are a promise, one that fills you with dread. You know he's not lying; he's a creature of the hunt, and you're his prey.

You push yourself harder, your lungs burning and your legs aching. Your senses are heightened, every sound in the forest a potential threat.

You can feel his presence behind you, a looming shadow that seems to grow closer with each passing second. "Faster," he says, his voice a whisper in the wind. "Or I'll just have to drag you back, kicking and screaming."

You whip around, your eyes wild with fear. The hybrid wolf is closer than you thought, his teeth bared in a feral smile.

You can see the hunger in his gaze, the need to claim and possess you. "You can't do this," you choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I won't be your omega, I won't let you do this to me."

"You don't have a choice," he says, his voice cold and final. He stalks closer, his eyes gleaming with a dark light that makes your heart race. "You're mine now, and I'll fuck you whenever I want. And you’ll just have to damn well take it, you stubborn bitch.”

His words are a promise, one that sends a shiver of dread through your body.

You stumble back, trying to put more distance between you, but your legs are wobbly, your body still reeling from his earlier assault.

He doesn't give you the chance to run again.

With a snarl, he lunges, his powerful body moving with the grace of a predator.

You scream, your voice raw from your earlier cries, and try to dart away, but he's too fast. His massive hands land on your shoulders, pushing you to the ground. "Struggle all you want," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "It'll just make it better."

You squirm beneath him, your body slick with sweat and tears. His weight is a crushing presence, a reminder of the brutal reality of your situation. "Please," you whimper, your voice shaking. "P-Please stop, no more, p-please."

The alpha hybrid wolf chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear. "What's the matter, little omega?" he asks, his voice mocking.

"Can't handle your new life?" His claws dig into your shoulders, his grip unyielding. "You should have thought of that before you decided to play hard to get."

You try to buck him off, to kick and claw, but your body feels like it's made of lead, and his weight is too much for you to bear.

You feel his cock, still hard and slick with your blood and cum, pressing against your thigh, a constant reminder of his dominance. "Get off me," you snarl weakly, trying to push him away. "I'm not your plaything."

He laughs, the sound a low, dark rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "Oh, but you are," he says, his voice dripping with malice. "And I'm going to enjoy breaking you in."

His teeth graze the shell of your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your fear. "You're going to beg for it, you know," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to beg for me to fill you up and make you scream my name."

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the unwelcome spark of arousal his words stir in you. "Never," you spit out, your voice laced with defiance.

The alpha wolf's eyes flash with anger, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "We'll see about that," he growls, his teeth grazing your neck as he pins you down.

You can feel his cock, still rock-hard and slick with your blood and cum, pressing insistently against your thigh. His knot starts to swell again, a sign that he's not yet done with you.

"No," you whimper, your voice shaking with fear and exhaustion. "I won't let you."

His teeth find your neck again, and you feel the sharp pain as he bites down, claiming you once more with a possessive growl. Your body tenses, your weak struggles doing nothing to deter him as he lines his thick, swollen cock up with your sore, bloodied entrance.

You can feel the beginnings of his knot swelling at the base, the promise of another agonizing mating session that you know you won't be able to resist.

Your weakened attempts to fight back only seem to excite the alpha hybrid wolf more, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. His teeth sink deeper into your neck, holding you in place as he starts to push his cock inside you again.

You feel the pressure building as his knot swells, the pain of his previous claim still fresh in your mind. You try to buck your hips, to twist away from him, but his weight and strength are too much.

The hybrid wolf's response to your increased struggle is to kiss you hard and without mercy, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he takes your mouth in a punishing, possessive kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting your fear and the coppery tang of your blood, a flavor that only seems to inflame his desire further.

His kiss is a claim of ownership, a declaration that you belong to him and no other.

You feel his cock, still slick with the evidence of his previous claim, push against your entrance, the swollen knot at its base a constant, painful reminder of the fate that awaits you.

You try to bite his tongue, to push him away with every ounce of strength you have left, but it's like trying to fight a hurricane with a single leaf. He's unyielding, his mouth moving over yours in a violent dance that leaves you breathless and dizzy.

His grip on your shoulders tightens, his hands digging into your flesh as he uses his superior strength to hold you in place.

You feel the tip of his cock breach you once again, the pain sharp and immediate, making you cry out against his mouth.

The alpha wolf's kiss is brutal, his teeth scraping against your lips as he takes what he wants without regard for your protests. His tongue fills your mouth, tasting the desperation and the faint sweetness of your fear.

His cock slams into you, the swollen knot at the base stretching you wider than you ever thought possible, making you scream into his mouth. Your body fights against his intrusion, your muscles clenching around his thick length as you try to push him out, but his strength is overwhelming.

He pulls away, panting heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to learn to love it," he says, his voice a low growl. "You're going to crave the feel of me inside you, marking you, claiming you."

He pushes into you again, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that makes you cry out with every thrust. You can feel his knot swelling, the pressure unbearable as he forces his way deeper and deeper.

You thrash beneath him, your nails digging into the dirt as you try to find anything to help you, to push him away. But his weight is too much, his strength too overwhelming. "Stop," you gasp, your voice breaking on the word. "Please, stop!"

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on your face. "You're so pathetic," he sneers, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Begging for it already."

The alpha wolf's cruel chuckle fills the air as he drives into you, his knot stretching you to the limits of endurance.

Despite the pain, your body starts to betray you again, responding to his rough treatment with unwanted arousal.

Each punishing thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through your abused body, and you feel your walls clench around him, trying in vain to push him out.

He seems to sense your struggle, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he leans in closer, his teeth nipping at your ear.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Take it, you stubborn bitch. Take all of me." His hips move faster, his cock pistoning in and out of you with a brutal efficiency that leaves you gasping.

You can't help but whimper, your body trembling with the effort of resisting the building pleasure. "You're going to cum for me," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to scream my name as I fill you up."

You want to fight it, you want to keep your dignity intact, but your body has a mind of its own. The hybrid wolf's relentless assault sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "No," you moan, the word torn from your lips despite your best efforts. "I won't…I won't…ahh…"

He chuckles again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Yes, you will," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You can't help it, can you? Your body knows what it needs." His hands move to your hips, his claws digging in as he pulls you into his thrusts, each one more powerful than the last.

You whine, trying to deny the building climax, but your body has its own agenda. Your hips buck up to meet him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your bruised core.

He's right; you can't fight it, not when he's so deep inside you, not when his knot is swelling and demanding your submission. You feel the first spasm of your orgasm, your muscles clenching around his cock, and he grunts in satisfaction.

"There it is," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr that sends shivers down your spine. "Give in to it, little omega. Let me feel you cum around me." His thrusts grow more erratic, his knot swelling to a terrifying size.

You can't hold back the scream that rips from your throat as your climax hits you like a storm, your body writhing beneath him. He takes advantage of your weakened state, slamming into you harder, the knot stretching you further than you thought possible.

The pleasure is unbearable, your body a live wire of sensation as he takes you over the edge.

But amidst the waves of ecstasy, you feel a sharp, searing pain as your leg gives way beneath his weight.

You scream in agony, the sound muffled by his mouth as he kisses you roughly, swallowing your cries.

"Mine," he snarls, his teeth digging into your neck. You feel his cock pulse inside you, filling you with his seed, claiming you once again.

Your body convulses around him, the pain in your lower body mixing with the agony of his brutal mating.

"You…you monster," you whimper, tears streaming down your face as your body continues to spasm around his knot.

The pain in your leg is like nothing you've ever felt before, a white-hot agony that sends shockwaves through your body.

You try to kick him off, to fight back with every ounce of strength you have left, but the pain is too much. You're trapped beneath him, his knot swollen and lodged deep inside you, his seed filling you up and marking you as his property.

After riding out your orgasm, the alpha wolf pulls out of you with a smug smile, his cock still hard and gleaming with your blood and cum.

He looks down at your broken leg, the bone jutting out at an unnatural angle, and his eyes flash with a twisted kind of satisfaction. "Looks like you'll be staying put," he says, his voice a dark purr. "It's for the best, really. Less running around for you to do."

You whimper, the pain making it hard to focus, to think. "W-Why are you doing this?" you ask, your voice shaking. "What do you want from me?"

The alpha hybrid wolf's smile widens, his eyes cold. "Everything," he says, his voice a dark whisper. "I want everything you have to give, and then some."

He runs a hand down your side, his claws lightly scoring your flesh. You flinch, but he doesn't stop, his touch a sadistic caress that makes your skin crawl. "I want you to submit, to beg for my cock, to crave my touch."

His voice is low, hypnotic, and for a moment, you almost believe you could want that.

────────────

The alpha wolf's cold, sadistic gaze locks onto your trembling form as he pulls out a set of long piano strings, the metal glinting menacingly in the moonlight.

You watch in horror as he wraps them around your uninjured leg, his eyes never leaving yours. The strings bite into your skin, the tension palpable as he tightens them, his teeth bared in a feral smile.

You try to kick him away, but the pain in your broken leg sends shockwaves through your body, leaving you incapacitated.

The alpha wolf's eyes gleam with excitement as he tightens the piano strings around your leg, the metal biting into your flesh with a cruel precision.

You scream in agony, the pain from your broken leg now eclipsed by the new torment.

He's not destroying it yet, but the threat is clear in his sadistic smile. He enjoys watching you squirm, your fear and pain only serving to fuel his lust.

"Please," you beg, your voice breaking. "Please, don't do this."

The alpha wolf's smile only widens as he tightens the strings further, watching as the color drains from your face. "Why do you keep fighting?" he asks, his tone mocking. "You're only making it worse for yourself."

Through gritted teeth, you manage to spit out through the tears, "Because I'm not your omega." Despite the pain, a small part of your spirit remains unbroken, the fire in your eyes a silent challenge.

The hybrid wolf's chuckle sends a cold shiver down your spine as he tightens the piano strings around your uninjured leg.

The pain is unbearable, your body writhing in agony as the metal digs into your flesh. You feel the warm trickle of blood start to run down your leg, the reality of his plan sinking in with a sickening thud. The strings are cutting through your skin, the tension building until you can feel the bone of your femur grinding against them.

Each twist of his hands sends a fresh wave of pain through you, and you can't help but cry out, your voice hoarse from your previous screams.

The alpha wolf leans in closer, his teeth bared in a sadistic grin as he whispers, "Let's see how much of a fighter you really are, my little omega."

With a sickening twist of his paws, the piano strings tighten, biting deeper into your flesh.

The pain is unimaginable, the strings cutting through your skin and muscles, the bone of your leg feeling as if it's about to snap.

You scream, the sound raw and animalistic, as you feel the strings slice through the last of your resistance.

"Good," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with perverse pleasure. "Scream for me, show me how much you hate it. Show me how much you're going to fight me every step of the way."

The alpha hybrid wolf's chuckles echo through the forest, sending a cold shiver down your spine. "I knew you'd be a fighter," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "But that's what makes it all the more satisfying when you finally break."

He leans in closer, his hot breath against your face as he whispers, "And you will break, little omega. You'll beg me to keep you, to never leave you."

With a final twist of the piano strings, you feel the bone in your leg give way with a sickening crunch.

The pain is so intense, you're sure you're going to pass out, but somehow, you remain conscious, your eyes locked on his.

The alpha wolf's twisted smile widens as he watches the pain etched into your face, the strings tightening until the bone in your leg snaps with an audible crack.

You scream in agony, your body arching off the ground as much as his hold on you allows.

The pain is so intense, it feels as though your entire world has been reduced to the burning, searing heat of the strings digging into your flesh. He releases the tension slightly, watching as the blood starts to pool around the wound, the muscles in your leg quivering with the effort to stay attached to the bone.

"See?" he says, his voice a dark purr. "No more running for you. Now you're just where I want you, exactly how I want you."

He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face, his teeth grazing your cheek. "But don't worry," he whispers, "I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, you're my prize."

His hands move to stroke your side, his claws lightly grazing your skin. The gentleness of his touch is a stark contrast to the cruelty of his words, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

The alpha wolf's hands move with a cruel precision, tightening the piano strings once more. You feel the unbearable pressure build, the strings digging into your flesh like serrated knives. Your screams fill the forest, a desperate, primal sound that seems to echo off the very trees themselves.

You're not just begging now; you're pleading with everything you have, your voice hoarse from the screams that have torn from your throat. "P-Please," you sob, "please don't do this. I'll do anything, I'll be whatever you want me to be."

The hybrid wolf's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "There it is," he says, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "The sweet sound of submission."

He doesn't loosen the strings immediately, though; instead, he lets you squirm and beg for a few more moments, savoring the power he holds over you.

"Beg for it," he says, his voice a low growl. "Beg me not to take your other leg. Show me you're truly mine."

Trembling, you force the words out through your tears. "Please, I'm sorry, I'll submit, I'll be your omega, I won't fight you anymore, just don't take my leg, I'll do anything…" The words tumble out of you in a rush, each one a painful admission of defeat.

The alpha wolf's eyes narrow, considering your plea. He releases the strings slightly, the pressure on your leg easing just enough for you to draw in a shaky breath. "Anything?" he asks, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod frantically, tears streaming down your face. "Anything," you repeat, your voice a broken whisper. "Just don't do this."

He tightens the strings once more, the pressure building until you can feel the bone in your leg starting to give way. You scream, your body jerking in a desperate attempt to escape the inevitable.

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Don't worry," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of the situation. "I'll take good care of you. You'll be my little pet, my personal fucktoy to use whenever I please."

He leans in closer, his breath hot on your face, his eyes glinting with malicious intent. "And maybe, just maybe, if you're a very good girl, I'll let you keep that pretty little pussy of yours."

You whimper, the pain in your leg unbearable as you feel the strings begin to saw through the last of your resistance. Your mind is a whirlwind of fear and desperation, and you know that you've lost. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I-I'll be good, I'll do anything!"

The alpha hybrid wolf leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he considers your words. "Prove it," he says, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. He loosens his grip on the strings slightly, the pressure on your leg easing just enough to let you breathe. "Tell me you're mine," he demands.

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat like bile. But the pain is too great, and the fear of losing your leg too intense. "I'm yours," you whisper, the words a painful concession. "I'll do whatever you want."

The alpha hybrid wolf's eyes flicker with something that might almost be respect, but it's quickly overshadowed by his dominance. "That's better," he murmurs, his voice a dark caress. He loosens the strings a bit more, the pressure on your leg lessening slightly. "Now," he says, "tell me you want me to fuck you."

You can't believe the words are coming out of your mouth, but the alternative is too terrifying to consider. "I…I want you," you force out, your voice shaking. "I want you to fuck me."

The alpha hybrid wolf's smile broadens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's what I like to hear," he murmurs, his hands moving to gently stroke the side of your face, the claws retracted.

His touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the brutality that came before. He releases the strings completely, and you feel the weight of his decision as the pain in your leg recedes to a dull throb.

The alpha wolf's kiss is like a brand, searing into your very soul and leaving no doubt of your newfound status.

His tongue invades your mouth, tasting your fear and desperation, and yet there's something darkly thrilling about the way he claims you, something that makes your heart race despite the pain and horror.

You can feel his cock, still hard and slick with your blood, pressing against you, demanding entry.

Your body reacts traitorously, your arousal spiking even as you bleed out, the pain and fear mixing in a toxic cocktail that somehow only makes the situation more intense.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust and power as he looks down at you. "You're mine now," he says, his voice a low growl. "Say it."

You whimper, the pain from your broken legs making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. "Y-yes," you choke out. "I'm yours."

You scream as he starts to thrust into you again, biting your shoulder without mercy, his knot swelling and forcing your shattered body to accommodate his brutal claim. Each movement sends bolts of agony through your legs, but you're too far gone to do anything but take it, your mind a haze of pain and submission.

He fucks you like an animal, his hips slamming into yours with a sickening wet sound that echoes through the forest. You can feel your body trying to fight back, but it's no match for his strength and dominance. The taste of blood is thick in the air, a testament to the brutality of his mating. His teeth dig deeper into your flesh, and you know that the marks he's leaving will never fully heal.

Your cries of pain are muffled by his mouth, his tongue invading yours in a twisted parody of affection as he continues to pound into you. Each thrust sends waves of agony through your body, your legs useless and forgotten beneath you. You can't even feel the pain anymore, it's just a part of you, a constant reminder of your new reality.

As you lay there, the hybrid wolf's teeth still embedded in your shoulder, the pain from your legs is a constant throb, but it's almost as if your body is trying to adapt to the new reality it's been thrust into.

Each thrust of his cock feels like a hot iron poker being pushed into your core, the pain and pleasure mixing until you can't tell the difference anymore. Your body betrays you, your walls clenching around him, trying to keep him inside you despite the horror of what's happening.

He releases your shoulder with a wet pop, the blood from the wound mixing with the fluids already coating your skin. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice a gruff growl. "So fucking tight, even with all the damage I've done to you." His eyes bore into yours, a challenge and a question in their depths. "Do you like it when I hurt you?"

The question hangs in the air, a silent demand for your truth. Your body is a wreck, your mind a tornado of agony and submission, but somehow, you find the strength to nod. The words come out as a whimper, barely audible. "Yes," you admit, your voice trembling. "I do."

The alpha wolf's hand snaps back, the slap echoing through the clearing like a gunshot.

Your cheek burns with the force of his blow, the impact sending your head spinning and your vision blurring with tears. The sting of his hand is a stark contrast to the burning agony in your legs, a reminder that your submission isn't enough to satisfy his twisted desires.

"Don't lie to me," he snarls, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "I can smell it on you, the scent of fear and pain. Tell me the truth."

You whimper, trying to gather your thoughts through the fog of pain and submission. "I…I do," you repeat, your voice shaking. "It's what you want, isn't it?"

The alpha wolf's eyes narrow, his grip on you tightening. "What I want," he says slowly, "is for you to be honest. To admit that you love the way I make you feel, that you crave the pain and the fear. That you need me to own you completely."

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "But I know you're a damn liar, my sweet omega. I can see it in your eyes. You're fighting me even now."

The hybrid wolf's grip on the piano strings tightens, his hands moving with a sickening precision that sends a fresh wave of terror through you.

You can feel the strings cutting deeper into your leg, the pain so intense it steals your breath away.

With a final, brutal twist, the strings snap tight, and you feel a white-hot agony as your left leg is severed completely. The blood spurts in a crimson arc, painting the leaves and soil a gruesome shade of red.

You scream in wailing agony, the sound echoing through the forest, a haunting melody of pain and despair.

Your vision swims, the world turning to a kaleidoscope of colors as the pain overwhelms your senses. The ground beneath you feels cold and foreign as your body tries to comprehend the sudden loss of a limb.

The alpha wolf pulls away, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he watches you writhe in pain. "Look at what you've made me do," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr. "You've only got yourself to blame for this." His hands come up to wipe the blood from your face, his touch almost gentle, a stark contrast to the horror he's just inflicted upon you.

The alpha wolf's thrusts become even more brutal as he watches the pain and despair play out on your face.

You can feel your body giving in, your consciousness fading as the agony of your amputated leg combines with the overwhelming pressure of his knot inside you.

Each time he pulls out, it's like he's ripping out your soul along with his cock, only to shove it back in with a viciousness that sends shockwaves of agony through your body.

The smell of blood and sex is thick in the air, a heady perfume that seems to drive him to even greater heights of depravity.

Your cries become weaker and weaker, until finally, the world goes dark.

You're not sure if it's the pain or the blood loss, but everything around you fades away, leaving only the pounding of his hips against your mutilated body.

And yet, even as you slip into unconsciousness, you can feel his knot swelling, his seed filling you up. It's a final, vicious reminder of your new role in his life—his pet, his toy, his breeding omega.

────────────

The alpha wolf chuckles darkly as you lose consciousness beneath him, your body limp and broken. He leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to your bloodstained lips, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim one last victory.

His love is a twisted, possessive thing, a perversion of the bond that should have been gentle and consensual.

But as he whispers the words into your unhearing ear, his hips never stop moving, his cock never leaving your torn, abused hole.

Each thrust is a declaration of his dominance, a promise that you will never escape his grasp.

You're vaguely aware of his words, a faint murmur against your skin. "Mine," he repeats, his voice a low growl of triumph. "You're mine now, my beautiful omega. You can't run from me anymore."

His hands roam over your body, his claws tracing delicate patterns in your skin that make you shiver in your unconscious state despite the agony. "I'll take care of you," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of his actions. "I'll make sure you never want for anything—except for my cock, filling you up, making you scream."

The alpha wolf's hips continue to piston into your unresponsive body, his knot still swollen and embedded deep within you. The warmth of your blood coats your thighs and your skin, painting a gruesome picture of his brutal claim.

Despite your unconsciousness, your body continues to react to him, your walls spasming around his cock, a reflexive response to the pain and the presence of his seed. His movements are relentless, a testament to his desire to fully dominate and claim you.

Each thrust sends waves of pain through your body, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play in this twisted mating dance.

With a final, triumphant snarl, the alpha hybrid wolf releases his knot, filling you with his cum one last time before withdrawing completely. He stands over you, his cock glistening with your blood and his own seed.

He looks down at your amputated leg with a twisted sense of satisfaction, the crimson stump a testament to his dominance. "We'll see if you're worthy of having this back," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "But for now, you're exactly where you need to be—under me, bleeding for me."

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rosenclaws · 1 day ago

Text

Stronger || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: after failing your last mission you start to over train yourself in secret but Logan notices the bruises and cuts and wont leave you alone about it.

warnings: angst to fluff, patching up fic, the reader is very hard on themselves, injury, blood, insecurity, sweet logan, reader pushes themself too much.

a/n: I had this idea at like 1:30am last night and I wrote it when i woke up oops. I just love fluffy patching up logan fics what can I say.

There it is again. Logan's nose twitches as you walk by. You smell like dirt and sweat but most of all blood. He locks eyes with you as you walk past the kitchen door.

Theres a limp in your step. It's subtle but there. You're wearing long pants and long sleeves despite it being hot outside and you're hiding your hands in your pockets. There's bags under your eyes and the smiles you give people aren't real.

Logan narrows his eyes at you and you look at the ground. Hurrying away from his pointed gaze. He wants to go after you but he hears your door slam and lock.

No one else has picked up on this except for him. He brings it up in passing but he's brushed off every time. Something is up with you and he's going to figure out what.

You sigh as you lean against your door. Your body aches like crazy and all you want to do is collapse onto the bed and sleep. But you force yourself to the bathroom. You need to scrub off all the evidence of everything from the night before. The blood and grime washed off but the bruises stayed.

"Damn." You mumbled as you took in the injuries from this time.

The person displayed in the mirror looked like a stranger. Your eyes were sunken, bruises on your body, you looked tired and felt worse. But you had to keep going. You needed to be strong, to prove yourself and this was the only way.

At least that's what you think. You crawl into bed and pass out the moment your head hits the pillows. Unfortunately the nightmares start then too.

You're back on your last mission. The whole reason you've been pushing yourself so hard. You were weak, lost, a burden to the team. You weren't like everyone else at the mansion. You didn't come here as a kid.

In fact you were well into your adult life when Professor Xavier found you. You had no training, no experience. You got stuck into classes with kids who had already mastered their powers. You felt silly, a fool to think you could be apart of this world. You didn't belong.

So when you got the chance to go on a mission you were excited. It means they thought you were ready, that you had something in you that could help.

The mission went terribly. You were overwhelmed and could barely keep up. Tackled to the ground you cried out in pain. A sharp blade against your neck caused you to freeze. You tried to conjure your energy blasts but a foot on your wrist stopped you. It was digging into you, crushing you. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for what was to come.

It never does.

The pressure is released all at once as Logan tackled the man who was on you. Digging his claws into him until he's limp on the ground. He runs to you, checking you injuries. You couldn't speak. You couldn't warn Logan that someone else was coming. Then it all goes black. You're too late.

You sit up, Logan's name on the tip of your tongue as you wake up. Fuck. You take in your surroundings and try to calm down. Slowly sinking back into your bed. Reminding yourself that everything fine.

That the last mission didn't really end that way. Logan is okay, you're okay. But what if things had played out different.

If you could have held your own then Logan wouldn't have had to come to your rescue. He carried you back to the jet and while everyone was nice, you knew that you disappointed them.

You haven't been asked to go on a mission since. It hurt, you wanted to go. To be apart of the team. So you took it upon yourself to train. Your powers were trained in lessons with the professor but he never lets you go past a certain limit. So instead you decided to sneak out at night to the nearby forest and train there.

Honing not only your powers but your hand to hand combat as well. Trees were your only partners but it worked. They were strong and sturdy. Every night you'd sneak out. Practice with your powers which drained you and then practiced everything else after. It left you bloody and bruised but in your mind it was worth it.

Glancing at the clock you see that you've slept through most of the day. The sun had already set. Quietly you get dressed and sneak down the hallways. Most everyone was already in bed and if they weren't they were socializing in the living room. All you had to do was sneak by and you were home free for the night.

Laughter is the perfect distraction as you sneak past the doorway. Opening the door slowly and sneaking outside, running to the safety of the woods. What you don't notice is someone following you.

Logan caught your scent the second you stepped out of your room. Whether he wants to admit it or not he's always searching for you. He smelled your shampoo wafting past the door and eyed you outside. You were quick but he could still see you. Enough of this. Whatever the hell you were doing was killing you. Slowly but surely it was ruining you physically and mentally. He slipped away from the rest of the people in the living room and followed you.

As he got deeper in the woods he became worried, just what could you be doing out here? His ears perk up as he hears you. Peaking through the trees he finds you in a small clearing. You were clearly exhausted but you kept pushing. Creating energy from your finger tips and blasting them at a tall redwood.

Logan smells the blood that trickled from your nose. You were pushing yourself too hard. He's about to reveal himself when the loud creaking of a branch stops him.

You were too wrapped up in conjuring another blast that you don't notice a large tree branch cracking from the force of your powers. Logan springs in to action.

"Watch out!" He growls as he launches himself at you. Grabbing your body and wrapping himself around you the best he can. The branch falls right onto his back. It snaps in two as it falls to either side of you.

"Logan?! What are you doing here?" You ask as you stare at the fallen branch. Kicking yourself for not noticing it fast enough forcing Logan to put himself in danger for you again.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing out here?" He yells as he lets you go. Taking in just how bad you looked.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What if I wasn't here? What if that branch fell and hit you and no one would know that you were bleeding out in the fucking woods!" Logan snarls. His fear and worry being masked by anger. How could you be so reckless? So stupid?

"I didn't ask you to fucking follow me!" You bite back. Shame creeping up as he scolds you. Logan scoffs and grabs your face firmly.

"Do you even see yourself right now?" He grabs your wrist and holds it up. Staring at your bloody knuckles. It fucking hurts. It hurts for him to see you like this and it hurts him that you were doing this to yourself.

“You're tearing yourself apart, why?" The anger starts to fade, his real feelings breaking through.

"Because I'm weak." You admit, your voice cracking as the adrenaline starts to drain. Instead being replaced but complete and utter exhaustion.

"What?" Logan asks in disbelief.

"I failed the last mission, I could have gotten you hurt, I was a liability. If I got stronger, If I was better."

"Stop. Just stop. You really think all that?" Logan has let go of you by now, his eyes are looking at all your bruises. All the damage you've done to yourself.

"You don't?" You ask, afraid of his answer.

He doesn't say a word. Instead he takes your holds your hand, you try to ignore the butterflies growing in your stomach as he leads you back to the mansion. Taking you up to his room where he pulls out a first aid kit.

He doesn't need one but every room has one, of course you had already used up all of yours. Silently he patches you up, wrapping your knuckles in bandages and wiping up the blood from your nose.

"If you wanted train you could have come to one of us, to me." He should have noticed sooner, said something. Stopped you from doing this to yourself.

"I thought I had to do it on my own."

"You don't. It took me a while to figure it out too but you don't." He would be a hypocrite to scold you for going off alone but he doesn't really care.

"I'm sorry." You mumble. Logan cups your face and to your shock kisses your forehead gently.

"Don't ever do this again do you hear me." Logan can help you, he can protect you.

"I won't." You promise him. He smiles and picks you up.

"Logan!" You yelp as he drops you into his bed.

It smells just like him and you can't deny the instant comfort that comes over you as you snuggle into his sheets.

"You're going to rest for the next week. Anything you need you just call alright?"

"But what-" He stares at you and you stop talking, he wasn't fucking around about this.

"When you're healed and rested. Then we can train together." He doesn't leave room for argument, not that you wanted to argue with him anyways but still.

"Thank you Logan...You didn't have to do this."

He could have turned his head, pretended he never saw anything. Its what you expected him to do if you were being honest. But he didn't. He saw you struggling, pushing yourself and he couldn't let you hurt yourself any longer. He cared about you, a lot.

"I know." He says simply.

"Will you stay, while I sleep. I've been getting these nightmares and well..." Logan nods his head.

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed with you. Kind of, more like he's half hanging off the edge of the bed. But you're comfortable and that's good enough for him.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. The comforting aura of Logan was enough. He hums as you curl closer to him. Logan chasing away any nightmares that threaten to hurt you and for the first time in a while your dreams are quiet.

A smile on your face as peace finally overcomes your dreams.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff

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sarahsangelicdoll-recs · 12 hours ago

Text

eoooof this is hot !! i swear i love everything you come out with 💞💞

“predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.”

I’ve said this before but i love predator x prey because it has such an underlying hint of trust and playfulness that i just LOVE sm, predator x prey fics are my weakness and i love them SM

“tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.”

Imagining fucking Rafes dick with my tits while i watch his reaction is just unbelievably hot. then watching his expression while he stares down at you while he’s cumming, EUGHH i need himm

“hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.”

i SWEAR i love bitchy!kook!reader and Rafes dynamic so much, they’re both hot and its just, eueeshe

“spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..”

I swear spanking is such a big kink of mine, it’s so hot ESPECIALLY when they’re typically more on the softer side. like just imagining myself laying on my tummy across their lap while they alternate between spanking my ass red and soothing it is just- chefs kiss 💋

“marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss”

i never really thought of marathon sex before but just imagining Rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader fucking in pogue!sweetheart!readers trailer, plus add a lil bit of vanilla + humour, soft hint strawberry scent filling the air and just kind of lovey vibes is just.. i don’t know i need it 🤭🤭

we need to kiss all of these are hot and literally perfection

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

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hungermakesmonsters · 3 days ago

Text

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake.

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk.

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations.

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor.

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club.

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you. He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer.

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame.

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?”

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do.

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?”

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again.

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?”

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?”

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe.

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him.

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again.

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt.

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #trr ff

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erosmutt · 2 days ago

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　★　𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧　⨟　𝗗. 𝗩𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

👥﹐𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ﹒Darth Vader x apprentice!reader

📺﹐𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 ﹒Breaking the rule of two is alright as long as it's his pretty little apprentice - she's the only one Vader will let see him out of his suit.

♰﹐𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ﹒standing sex, sex up against the bacta tank so not really wall sex but eh, Vader refers to reader as "little one" in an affectionate sense﹒

🎼﹐𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 ﹒Angel ⋆ Massive Attack

ਏਓ 𝒃𝒏𝒖𝒖𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 : unrealistic, he has his limbs in the bacta tank and he's managing without his suit for a bit . for @lacebird <3 // MY KO-FI

The stark grey corridors of the Death Star stretch on endlessly, the only color ever added being the occasional stormtrooper on patrol or an Imperial officer making his way to a meeting. It's sterile, oppressive, and you absolutely despise it. The Imperial Palace is where you would much rather reside, and you make a point to mention it every chance you get.

With a low hiss, the door to a chamber hardly entered opens and you step inside, your robes flowing. A massive, cylindrical tank rests on a raised platform - a bacta tank. The green liquid inside churns gently, illuminating the room with a dim, eerie, somewhat ethereal glow. Within is your Master, Darth Vader, his scarred body submerged in the healing fluid, the only time he ever seems somewhat at peace.

You take a moment to compose yourself as you step up to the bacta tank, your robes rustling softly with each step. Your eyes are fixed on him, filled with a mix of curiosity and deep concern. As you reach the tank, you press your soft hand against the glass, feeling the warmth of the healing liquid on the other side. Your heart races as you gaze upon his scarred body, the evidence of countless battles fought and pain endured etched into his very flesh. You've often found yourself wondering about the stories behind each mark, each wound, but Vader has always remained stoically silent when you've dared to ask.

A small sigh escapes your lips and your mouth trembles slightly as you begin to speak. "Master," you whisper, your eyes never leaving his form submerged in the bacta. "Is there anything I can do for you while you rest?" Your hand lingers on the glass, fingers tracing the outline of his form through the liquid, a small, sad smile playing on your lips. "You know you can always talk to me, Master," you add, your voice filled with gentle encouragement and unwavering devotion.

Suddenly, Vader's eyes open, piercing you with their intense gaze. The top of the tank hisses softly, lifting open. He rises from the tank, water cascading down his muscular body in rivulets. He removes the mask and takes a deep breath of fresh air, standing there nude and imposing. "What do you want, apprentice?" He asks, voice a deep, commanding rasp. He takes a step towards you, his presence beginning to overwhelm you in the small chamber. Your breath catches in your throat, equal parts fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins.

"I just wanted to check on you, Master," You murmur, hands coming to fold together in front of you. His eyes rake over your body, taking in every curve and swell, further committing them to memory. "And now?" He asks, closing the distance between you. He towers over you, heat radiating off his body, power emanating off him. Your heart pounds in your chest, your cheeks flushing as your Master leans down, still too tall to come eye to eye with you. "You want something else, yes?"

Vader's hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. As your hands find his biceps, you can feel the hard plane of his body, the strength in his muscles, the heat of his skin. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that takes your breath away. His tongue delves into your mouth as his cybernetic hands roam your body, mapping every dip and curve like a starved man.

His cold hands gather your robes before sliding underneath them, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples. You gasp as he pinches them, robes falling to the floor, leaving you bare and exposed to the cold air. His golden orbs take in your body, his right hand sliding down and dipping into your leggings and between your thighs, his fingers finding your slick heat. "Say my name," he murmurs against your lips.

"Master," you gasp as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he turns the both of you around and puts your back up against the bacta tank. Your eyes meet his, breath coming in short pants, body aching for him. "Master,"

With a swift motion, he tears your bottoms apart, leaving you exposed. A deep, rasping breath leaves his chest as he sheathes himself inside you in one smooth thrust, your tight cunt stretching around his thick shaft. "Maker!" You cry, nails raking across his shoulders and down his thick arms. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust before he starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a harsh rhythm.

"Gods," he whispers, head dipping down to your neck, nose brushing against your soft skin. His hands move down to grip your ass, lifting you higher to change the angle, hitting that spot deep inside that makes you see stars. He pounds up into you with abandon, the bacta tank shaking with the force of his thrusts. A low, guttural moan rumbles from Vader's chest as he buries himself deeper, and he can feel your slick walls fluttering around him, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the small chamber.

His breathing grows heavier, the air in the room growing hotter. As you tighten around him, he can sense your impending orgasm and he redoubles his efforts, chasing his own high. The tank shakes and the bacta inside sloshes, some spilling over and splashing onto your skin. With a final, hard thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his warm seed into your waiting womb. he groans, long and low, body shuddering with the force of his release.

Vader holds you close as you both come down from your highs, his softening cock still inside of you. He nuzzles your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He pulls out of you slowly, the both of you watching as his cum begins to drip out of you. In a daring move, you reach down and gather a bit on your fingertips, bringing them up to your mouth and tasting him before reaching down again and gently stuffing his cum back in.

He sets you down on shaky legs, hands holding your hips to steady you. "Go and rest, little one." He murmurs, making a silent promise to come check on you later. "Yes Master," you respond, tugging your robes down over yourself. You lean up and press a soft kiss to his bicep before turning away and leaving, the door to the chamber hissing shut behind you.

@102hannah @addictedtohobi @literally-izzy @bimbo-baggins17 @brooklynb8by

@jameskellysgirl @lovebunanon @speaknow-sw @anakinstwinklebunny@vrby9

@zapernz @jediavengers @enchant5d @trippyhippywitch @valloos

@piastricentric @gallerygourmet @anakinsbbgirl @ilovekmchenzie @gabsskkk

@s1ck-skv1l @s1aywalker @t03soup @offthethirlwall @tfmerc

@starlmbed @slutforfinnickodair @geekforhorror @necromancerrrs @theladykassia

@thesassypadawan @cocobear18 @anisangeldust @fredswrite @byunnue

@d0llfilth @haydenslittlegirl @lunarnightt @espinathena-17 @fallout-girl219

@mugwump327 @stepdadjameskelly @anisluvrgirl @xhunnybeeex @radiantvader

@urmomsgirlfriend1 @hayden-christensen-verse @rssmary @dreamygirli3 @awhhayden

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apoptoses · 3 days ago

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Armand, Haussmann, and Paris:

The thing about Paris that's not really discussed in the VC books themselves is the Haussmann project.

In 1853 Napoleon III commissioned Haussman to completely renovate Paris. The plan was to tear down all of the old structures and rebuild the city; reorganizing the streets and reshaping them to accommodate more green spaces, and replacing smaller buildings with taller apartment blocks in more uniform style.

The Paris Armand knew when he arrived as the coven master and which he came to know as the theater leader would have looked something like this:

Dark, winding streets leading off wide boulevards and short, leaning buildings.

The Haussman project would see all of these places systematically torn down, occupants removed to other areas of the city while new buildings were put in their place. In some areas workers were destroying and rebuilding things 24 hours a day.

At this time Armand would have been living at the theater on the boulevard du Temple, Paris's street of theaters:

This dagguerotype shows the boulevard in 1838. This painting, in 1862, looks much the same:

But by 1863 all but one theater on the street had been destroyed, and that was only because that theater was on the opposite side of the street shown in the painting. How and why it wasn't pulled down, I don't know- no information on it seems to exist, just like no explanation for the very small handful of other old structures that were left untouched.

That theater, the Théâtre Déjazet, still exists today. But it was established in 1770 by Comte de Artois, so while it could have been Anne's inspiration for Armand's theater it's not the 'rickety wooden rat trap' that seats 300 that Lestat describes in TVL.

Anyways, knowing all of this, I think it makes even more sense why Armand so quickly grabbed onto Louis and was ready to run away with him at any cost.

Armand, who'd been kidnapped from the monks, who'd had his palazzo torn out from under him, who'd established something of an existence under Les Innocents and was then ripped out of that world when the cemetery was destroyed. Who was watching the city he'd finally come to know get systematically torn apart. Everything that was familiar to him was being taken again.

So why not let Louis burn the theater? He arrived in Paris in 1870, just as Haussman was dismissed. But the work of destroying and rebuilding Paris was set to carry on. Chances were the Theatre de Vampires would be next, and if that were the case there's no way the crypts beneath the place would remain safe and undiscovered.

And if he'd stayed where would they go during the renovation? What would they do? What would the point be in continuing trying to run a coven he was bored of and a life he didn't care for in a new location?

Armand was going to have to begin again somewhere- better that be with Louis, out in the world, than roaming a now unfamiliar Paris. And even though he didn't burn the theater himself, allowing/instigating Louis to do it still gave him more control than letting a stranger come in at some unpredictable moment to demolish things all over again.

(And what of Lestat, what does he feel about these changes? He never could have shown Louis the Paris he knew and loved, which existed when Louis was still mortal- that Paris was largely gone)

Chances were Anne might not have known most of this at the time she wrote interview or even TVL. But I think it still makes a lot of sense and brings up a point about Armand and immortality that I don't see brought up much- that not only do vampires lose every mortal they've ever known, but with time they also see the destruction of every place they've ever known or loved.

(ps: I'm not an expert on this topic or anything, so if anyone does know why some buildings were unchanged or has any interesting historical info to add by all means please, reblog and add it on!)

#paris was amazing #but man standing outside boullion and seeing the last theater on the street #made it really hit hard that nothing stays #and those things that do stay aren't at all the same #and knowing now that paris was transformed in just a couple decades #and the paris louis was so amazed by had so little ties left #to the paris that would have existed when he was a boy #it's a lot!!!!!#vc meta #armand #louis de pointe du lac

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thestarlitmidnight · 3 days ago

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✨ Rewrite the Stars ✨

Summary: Being mated to Feyre doesn’t stop Rhysand to seek comfort from his former lover Y/N. One more night, that became their mantra. Fandom: ACOTAr Pairing: Rhysand X Y/N Warnings: Mention of explicit content, be aware of that and consider being 15+ before reading this. Word Count: 3 902 Previous Chapter Master List

Chapter 3

The autumn sun was low and hidden behind a heavy cloud. The air was getting colder.

Perfect weather for outside training. One does not need to sweat their ass out in leathers while the sun is frying you. When it's chilly outside, the fighting leathers are perfect, keeping you warm enough without the need to sweat and smell.

Right now, I was fighting with Az, testing our sword skills.

With Az, it was always so easy to train. He was focused on the training and did not talk a hole into your head. Not like Cass or others, who loved to add to the sound of colliding steel their comment and small talk.

Truth be told, with sword fight, it was impossible to beat Az, he was way too strong, quick and skilled. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat, or even daggers, he gets his ass kicked, but not with swords.

Another reason why I wanted to test my sword skills with him. I need to put my whole focus into the fight to have even a chance to keep up with him. This way my mind does not have any spare time to be bombarded with unwanted thoughts.

And there were a lot of them.

But Azriel decided to break the code today, out of all of the days, and he spoke up.

"Y/n, I am worried," his hazel eyes were glued on my face, but he did place an attack on my right side.

"About?" I gritted through my teeth and quickly blocked the attack with the sword, my wing needed to flex a little into the other side, to keep my balance.

"You," he effortlessly blocked my own attack on his thigh.

I simply rolled my eyes at him and did not reply. My sword started to place attack after attack, trying to break through his defences.

"I know what is happening," he simply said in a low tone, still watching me with these cryptic eyes.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I swirled on the other side of him and tried to place a hit on his left side, but he blocked it once again.

He and his shadows. They always cheat, I am sure of it.

"Y/n, don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you," his eyebrows crushed together with distaste.

I did not reply, waiting for him to elaborate on what he indeed knew about. It can be quite a lot of things, and I prayed he would come up with anything else than the truly concerning thing.

"Tell me, why do my shadows report to me that they spotted Rhysand visiting your house?" He went directly to the point, and I growled as my hands started to shake from the effort to block his now stronger attacks.

"He is my friend; he comes to chat," I lied skillfully, swirling away from him to create a little space between us so I could catch my breath.

"Liar," he said with an even voice, allowing me to get a little break. "Do you guys chat before or after he has you bend over the desk in his study?"

My eyes shot up to him, now full of warning. Those fucking shadows of his.

"You are poking your shadows into things that are not your concern," I replied with a stern voice, dismissing any possibility to dive into this topic deeper with him.

"He is mated, Y/n; this is not going to end well for anyone involved," his face was covered in concern, no distaste or judgment, no, Az would never judge me or Rhys; he was just worried.

And that made me furious. I crossed the space between us and started to dance with our sword clinging once again.

"Do you think, Az, that I am not aware of that?" I growled at him and went with way more force into the attacks than before. "I would love to see you act differently in my shoes."

Azriel, without as much a breaking sweat, knocked the sword from my hands and had me pinned down, his own sword on my neck.

"I would not act differently, but it is not fair to you," he informed me with his eyes glued on mine and his sword still on my neck. "I want you to know that if things get out of hand and you need someone to talk to, I am here for you; you are my little sister, Y/n, you are not alone."

My eyes started to water at his words, and when he helped me back up on my feet, I wrapped my hands around his neck and hugged him, thankful for him. At least one brother still considered me as his sister. Cass was way too invested in his mating bond to still have space for me in his life, but Az was always there for me. When shit hit the fan, he was by my side through the hardest times as much as he was through the best. Just like Rhys and Amren.

"Angel, tell me, why did you start to take your little experiment alongside you to train?" Rhys walked into the rooftop, in his arms my misplaced cat.

"Patchy! What are you doing here, baby?" I let go of Az, but not before I placed a thankful kiss on his cheek and went to snatch the creature out of Rhysand's hands.

"For the love of the Mother, what is this?" Azriel walked closer to us, his eyes taking in the ugly cat.

"Cat maybe? Or something that wandered into Velaris down from the mountains. I am still trying to figure that out," I scratched the head of Patchy. "How did you get here, Patchy? "

"You did not take it up here with you?" Rhys raised his eyebrows, eying the cat with curiosity.

"No, and before you come up with some wildly ridiculous theory, she probably just hide in my training bag," I gave Rhys a pointed look, stopping any wild theories about my cat being able to winnow or something equally stupid.

"It looks all weird," Az poked the bigger ear of the cat with his finger.

"I know, but it gives her a charisma," I laughed at the stunned expression of the shadowsinger; it takes a lot to surprise someone like him.

"It is a mentally unstable thing, which loves to interrupt when it should not," Rhys grumbled, eying the cat like his enemy.

That made me laugh. Patchy indeed had a terrible habit of interrupting us during sex. She would come and go after Rhys' feet, or straight out jump into the bed and slap him across his face. There was an occurrence where Rhys was fucking me over the counter in my kitchen just before the diner, and Patchy, with all the limping, managed to climb up to the shelves and push a glass bowl down on his head.

Safe to say, that Patchy developed a way to make Rhys mighty fate her.

I looked up at Rhys, then at Az, back to Rhys, raising my eyebrows up. This was a kind of comment that I did not expect to hear from Rhys in front of a member of our family.

"Az came to me first," Rhys sighed, brushing his hand over his jaw, where I just noticed a bruise that was fading quickly.

Illyrian males and their inability to talk things out without using their fists.

"Was it necessary to beat him, Az?" I raised my hand and tilted Rhys' head to the side, taking a better look at his jaw. "You know his pretty face is what I like about him the most."

"Y/n, angel, that is a lie," Rhys charmed a cheeky smile, and he greatly enjoyed my fingers brushing across his jaw.

Az just shook his head and laughed. "I forgot how annoying you two can be."

"Don't pretend that you did not miss it," I called after Az, who walked to the weapon rag, placing the sword back into its place and letting Rhys take me into his arms.

"I did not say that," Az looked over his shoulder, giving both of us a warm, pleased smile.

"Does anyone else know or suspect, or is it only you?" I asked Az, while tilting my head to the side because Rhys decided to sneak a few kisses on my neck.

"Amren knows," Rhys replied before Az could open his mouth, his lisp brushed over my neck as he spoke.

That did not surprise me. I knew that Amren at least suspected something.

"Others have no clue," Az added, resting against the wall, his hands came to rest over his chest.

"And it will remain this way till it is handled," Rhys placed a quick kiss on top of my wing and took Patchy from my hands, who shortly after disappeared into thin air. "She is waiting for you back at home; we have things to tend to."

"Rhys! She will be moody! That cat hates winnowing!" I scolded him and stepped on his feet, pissed that I would need to deal with a broody cat once I was back home.

"That cat is not that often present; if you will be lucky, she will be broody on one of her endless adventures and come back home only hungry," Rhys dismissed my scolding and winked, leading me to the kitchen with his hand around my waist, that had tendencies to fall way too low to be considered polite.

That was true. Patchy loved to explore. She spent more time out than indoors. No matter how misplaced and strangely shaped she was, that weird cat was exploring the world all the time.

"I need you and Az to look into something; there are whispers that someone is wielding unknown magic in the Autumn Court," Rhys let go of me and went to sit behind the high table.

"Perfect," I sighed and looked at Az with poorly hidden despair.

I hated the residents of Autumn Court. They were pompous, arrogant idiots with a god complex, always thinking they were better than others.

What was worse, they rarely lent a helping hand, which meant whoever was cursed to tend to a mission there was always on their own accord, with no outside help.

Az had trouble keeping his spy network there, and it is no secret that most of the expenses on the spies were pouring into the pockets of poorly willing people in the Autumn Court, who provided us back with half-truths, twisted information, and unreliable intel. But still, it's better than nothing.

The only person in the whole damn Autumn Court who cared enough to provide us with useful intel was Eris, who might be an ass, but he had his highlight moments sometimes.

In fact, I have seen Rhys in him sometimes. They both had similar qualities. Few differences were there, for example, that Eris did not have a good circle of his trusted friends and family. He was alone in a pretty tight system his father set, and he needed to orient through it all without any backup or outside help.

Feyre walked into the kitchen then, looking over the three of us with something unreadable in her eyes. She carried herself with tension in her shoulders and a way too straight spine. Then her eyes ended on Rhysand, and she went right to him, placing a kiss on his lips.

I fought a need to roll my eyes and chose to look at Az, who provided the two with privacy as well, looking back at me with those knowing eyes. I turned my back to them and crunched my nose at Az, making a face to shake the irritation out of my system.

"What are you three doing?" Feyre asked with a way too light voice.

I did turn only when Az made an effort to discreetly nod for me to turn around, and with a suppressed sigh, I did.

That viper was sitting way too close to Rhys for my liking. A mighty furry raised in my chest at the sight of his arm resting on his thigh.

What did not help me at all was the fact that his hand was wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close to himself. The same fucking way he held me a little ago.

I felt sick.

It took all of my self-control to not walk to that damn thief and not throw her off the cliff. It would do nothing. She can summon wings. I kept reminding myself of this fact. It would only piss everyone off and make this whole situation a lot worse and complicated.

"Az and Y/n will need to go into the Autumn Court. There are whispers about an unknown magic being wielded there, and we need to investigate," Rhys replied, his voice even.

I fought the urge to have my eyes glued to his hand resting around her shoulders. To stop myself from willing it not to move. To not caress her skin.

"Eris will be happy to see Y/n," Az said, his shadows moving around him in calm manners.

I raised my eyebrow at him, a smug smirk landing immediately on my lips. I knew where he was going with this and I loved every fucking second of that.

"He will, won't he? Last time we saw each other, he was promising me the title of the Lady of the Autumn Court," I mused back to him, purposely ignoring the burning stare from our High Lord.

A little fact about Eris. He loved fierce, independent females. Those, he knew he couldn't have. It was like a hunt for him. A challenge that he very gladly accepted and bathed in the thrill of it. He loved hunting, his favourite pastime, so it should not come as a surprise to anyone that he enjoyed hunting his females as well.

"I will bet ten golden marks that he will bring another priceless gift; my guesses are on another dagger," Az noted to me, looking all innocent as he did so.

I always knew that Az would have my back. He must have seen how off track the sight of Rhys and Feyre set me, so he found effortlessly a way to turn this into torture of Rhys instead of me.

"Make it twenty and that he will straight out propose to her at least once," Cassian walked into the kitchen as well.

He came back from Illyria, where he was training with his soldiers, and he looked like that. Sweaty and with messy hair, which stuck out of his bun.

"Not the proposal, please; it was enough the last time!" I rolled my eyes and smiled at Cassian.

"Did I miss something? Since when does Eris fancy Y/n?" Feyre looked between us, her face confused, while her damn fingers darted to Rhys' hair with her eyes ending on me while she brushed them.

"Let me guess..." Cassian made a thinking face. "Az, care to help me? You remember the dates better."

"Since the day she kicked his ass on one of the meetings, I would say at least a hundred years," Az replied right away, a light smile crossing his lips.

"You did what?" Feyre's eyes went wider.

I only raised my eyebrows at her, but did not reply; if I did, only cursed words would fall from my lips at her direction.

"He was ass, talking shit about Rhys, it was only natural she kicked his ass, Rhys would get into trouble for doing that, but nobody would dare to talk shit about Y/n for defending her-," Cass waved with his hand, walking to the sink to pour himself some water.

"Cass, did you forget that it was you, who did not hesitated to push me away and finish him yourself?" I smoothly interrupted him, he and his big mouth can sometimes get tricky to control.

"And you are surprised? Nobody will talk like this about my brother and little sister," he gave me a duh face, completely unaware that he was speaking about things that are not to be spoken of in front of the little viper.

"What did he said about them?" Feyre was now looking between me and Rhys with curiosity.

"Nothing that is your concern," Rhys replied to her, his voice firmer. "I was not aware that it was necessary to meet with Eris at the mission you will have."

Rhys looked tense. His jaw was tightly set and those violet eyes of his were holding frustration that was contained only be the sheer will of his.

"It is certainly necessary. Eris is the only one who has the best intel, if someone is wielding strange magic in his court, he will know it," I said with a light smirk on my lips. "And it will be nice to see him again. Do you think Az, that he practiced those dagger skills?"

"He? Yeah, for sure, he is probably eager to show them off to you," Az smiled fully in return, his eyes shining now with mischief.

"Will you reward him if he did?" Cassian chimed, wiggling his eyebrows. "I always knew you were made for greatness,Y/n, now that the air is clear for him, who knows, maybe you will indeed become Lady of the Autumn."

That made me chuckle.

It was a solid possibility to take and get out of here. My social standing will only benefit and I will get rid of the sight of Feyre clinging to Rhys at any opportunity she gets.

"We will see how things play out," I replied with light voice, my eyes finding the violet gaze.

He got the message. I am sure of it. And I am sure as hell that there will be a nasty fight over this.

"Y/n, Autumn, really? Come one, you yourself know how stupid of idea that would be," Rhys cannot hold this remark to himself and it stirred satisfaction in me, soothed the painful ache in my chest a little.

"Why would it be? If Y/n thinks it will make her happy, she has a free will to decide and do not need to ask for permission from you all," Feyre proclaimed eagerly, surprising me with this.

Is she by any means eager to get rid of me?

"Feyre darling, Y/n hates Autumn, it would be concerning if she would ever choose to permanently reside there, especially with someone like Eris, who doesn't have the slightest idea about how to handle someone like our angel," Rhys' voice was clipped, tightly controlled as he spoke, his eyes now glued permanently on me, ignoring his precious mate wholly.

A thing Feyre noticed and did not liked at all, judging by the shift of her body language. She moved her fingers from his hair down to his neck, stroking the sensitive skin there, hoping to get his attention back.

"Maybe, but did you forget that it is not only Eris, who decided to court our little sister?" Cassian send Rhys a cheeky grin, his chest puffing with pride.

It was kind of endearing. Cass truly thought that me and Rhys split up and it was done. That I accepted the fact he is mated and he probably believed that I will start moving on with my life as well. He was willing to see me go and settle anywhere as long as I will be happy.

"He is not?" Feyre's eyes once again widen and her voice was coloured by poorly controlled irritation mixed with hope.

"Y/n is a hot stuff you know. Last time I spoke with Helion, he was dreaming out loud about finally having opportunity to court her," Cassian's eyes practically shined with excitement. "In my opinion, Helion is better choice than Eris, but who is also in game is Tarquin, but considering how much you hate the sun, he will have little to none chance to get you reside in his shiny palace."

I cannot help and laugh a little.

It was ridiculous. Truly. Once the news that I am no longer with Rhys got out, they all loose it. Males can be sometimes truly precious.

"If they all are so interested in her, why they did not courted her already?" Feyre demanded, her face coloured with strange emotions, ones I cannot put together what they meant.

What? Was she pissed that she is not the one, who is seek out by them? Is she jealous that she is not the one, who stirs this kind of desire from those powerful males?

A little reality check for her I guess. It will serve her well.

"Very obviously because Rhysie would cut theirs dicks if they did?" Cass shoot back, without any hesitation, leaving us no opportunity to stop him from finishing this dman sentence.

"And why would he care?" She straightened her spine and she looked at Cassian with demanding look.

"Are you kidding me? Why would he care? Feyre, he -" Cassian opened that big mouth of his once again, but Rhys stopped him.

"We are getting away from the point of this conversation," Rhys snapped, his voice tight. "Azriel and Y/n are going to Autumn today, I will see you both before you go, we need to clear some things up."

When he said meet you both, his eyes were glued on me. It was clear message that he will have things to discuss with me.

Cauldron, I do not have any desire to argue with him before I will be leaving for a mission. It always brought bad amens with it.

"Well, I don't think any heads up are needed, we can get going right away, right Az?" I turned to look at the shadowsinger, my back turning once again to the pair sitting way too close together.

I cannot have a fight with him before the mission. There will be no time to make it alright again and I know that once I am away, he will be spending time with Feyre. It would keep eating me alive. The whole damn time when I am supposed to focus, he will be all I could think about and that means trouble.

Distraction during mission equal problems. Always.

I would see them together, just like in my nightmares, where he holds her so close to himself, the way he used to hold me. He would whisper sweet words into her ear, while tracing his hands across her body, making her giggle. He would promise her a future, that once was supposed to be ours. He would tell her about his dreams to have family of his own. How he dreamed for centuries about starting a family with his girl after the world will calm down a bit.

No. I cannot do this and so I gave Azriel a pleading look, hoping he will once again back me up.

"Of course, we will report once we know something," Az replied right away, walking towards me, gently taking my elbow into his arms. "Do not worry, I will make sure Eris does not misbehave way too much."

With that, he let his shadows swipe us away from the kitchen. It was a good thing that his little secret of being about to trespass the wards set upon the House of Winds, blew up a few months ago. It allowed him to simply take us away without leaving any space for more pointless chatting and arguing from Rhys.

Tag-List: @sillyfreakfanparty @zou-rs @sttvrdustt @daughterofthemoons-stuff @stonerpersona @j-pendragonx @barb00235 @booksbypisces @thelov3lybookworm @darkbloodsly

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l0v3r666 · 1 day ago

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idk if uve done this before buuuttt.. tsundere idia? 🥺 tyty

good idea!!

Tsundere!Idia that’s gets foul with you, and he’s not the type that’ll just kick your shins and run away all blushy. No chance, because when does the prefect ever get good things? He will INSTAKILL your confidence. Sure he loves you and is this close to just biting the bullet and make a holo-yuu for himself, but there’s no way you’ll EVER know that. Tsundere!Idia that is only so mean because he took himself out of the race before it even started- how’s he supposed to compete with the “prince with a super tragic and sexy backstory”?? He’s just Idia!!! (Ignoring that he’s basically Batman)

Tsundere!Idia has devoted his entire life to preserving his introvert utopia, no shot he’ll let some.. temptress sully his good name! (Read; login streak)

Tsundere!Idia that’s forced to do an alchemy class with you in person!! (“Blah blah can’t google answers, pup!”) smoke is literally coming off his head, and somehow he’s “your favourite partner”?? Are you trying to kill him?? OFC he has to combat this super effective move with a mumbled comment about how “well.. your hair looks really dumb” but how’s he supposed to speak up and insult you to your face when it looks like that!! “nvm!! ctrl z,,”

But with how shy Idia is around you face to face, he “makes up for it” with how degrading he is online (only with text to speech :’) and the poor prefect is left wondering if they’ve been catfished :( sure the conversation’s a little stale, but he’s never this mean when you see him! You’ve just got to get to the bottom of this!

Your introduction to Ortho Shroud is a little awkward, considering your opening line is “your older brother’s totally my type! And I’m pretty sure he hates me!” But afterwards you two click like nuts and bolts! Idia’s left shaking in a corner of his room bc who says that?? You have to be some kind of idiot! Or better yet, he’s the genius because his master “avoid the loml” play is working!!

Atleast it was. Until Ortho gets the bright idea to set the two of you up in his room. You’re trying to see what his problem is, and he’s stuck because he’s had this raid planned for months, he can’t just bail!

What’ll happen? Stay tuned for the results of noob vs hacker next season!! (They beef it out or make out no third option)

#twst yuu #twst x reader #yuu twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #idia shroud #twst idia #idia shroud x yuu #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #ortho shroud

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phantomyre · 2 days ago

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In a morbid sense, it was a twisted yet beautiful sight to see Sephiroth holding the head of Sephiroth in his hand—staring in the face of the man who had both created and tormented him; the true source of all of Sephiroth’s nightmares. Even if Hojo had been the cause of everyone’s pain, including Vincent’s, at least he had tasted the goodness that came with humanity, imperfections and all. Sephiroth, on the other hand, had been robbed of all of it before conception. However, was this truly Sephiroth or Jenova?

Sephiroth’s response gave Vincent that answer, and the gunslinger blinked in a mild confusion at first. So it wasn’t Jenova after all… the shift in essence was curious. But if this was Sephiroth, then what was this powerful sensation he felt atop the mountain? Had Sephiroth truly gained the freedom from Jenova’s control? Vincent didn’t immediately respond to Sephiroth and briefly turned part way to look up at the mountain. The power shook the mountain. He could feel a strong pulse growing steadily stronger. He recognized that pulse… Was this where Sephiroth’s physical body had been entombed the entire time? The one he had witnessed falling into the pool of Mako several years back? Realization slowly crept through his mind, and Vincent turned to meet Sephiroth’s figment once more. Though his eyes were still somewhat harsh, they had softened as he began to put the pieces together. He couldn’t be sure if Sephiroth had yet gained the victory over Jenova, but he could easily test that. At least from what Sephiroth had told him thus far, it seemed as though he hadn’t been speaking to Jenova at all… but Sephiroth’s true conscience. The test hadn’t been conducted by Jenova, but by Sephiroth. Perhaps Sephiroth had already broken free from Jenova long ago and the man with silver hair only feigned it up till now. The power that Jenova wielded was beyond belief—having corrupted and destroyed many planets in the past. For Sephiroth to break free of the most terrifying and manipulative entity known to humanity, it bespoke the power of will that Sephiroth possessed. It was more terrifying than Jenova herself. Who was the puppet-master, now? “I see…” Vincent mused allowed, indicating he had realized he was no longer addressing Jenova as he once thought.

This was very advantageous, yet Vincent was also aware that Jenova wouldn’t simply let go of her most valuable asset—Sephiroth. After all, she took on the form of those who the victim was closest to, someone they hated, loved, or feared. But Vincent would give Sephiroth the benefit of a doubt until those signs once again showed themselves.

Directing his attention towards Sephiroth again, he felt those piercing eyes searching his thoughts. As intrusive as it felt, in a sense Vincent wanted Sephiroth to know the truth. Perhaps it now was the time. There was a strong chance Jenova would try to thwart the effort, or Sephiroth would simply deny Vincent's request. Nevertheless, there was no better time than the present. One thing that kept tugging at Vincent's mind was what would happen if Sephiroth did agree to follow through with his request. What would be the consequences? Would he be putting Lucrecia in danger? There was a strong possibility. But keeping Lucrecia in the dark also seemed equally cruel. Sooner or later, Lucrecia would discover her son was indeed alive. What would she do then if he weren't present to protect her? How could he be sure the one he was talking to wasn't yet again Jenova just playing 5D chess and manipulating the gunslinger? And would Cloud and the others be exempt from what he was about to attempt? 'Let me see him. Just once!'

Vincent could remember hearing Lucrecia's cries towards Hojo from within the mako tank; Sephiroth had been separated from Lucrecia long before she could even hold him. Would seeing her son's face finally put her soul to rest? Or would it rip the wounds anew? Was Vincent going to deprive Lucrecia of her son's audience, also? “There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Vincent began, his pair of crimson colors meeting Sephiroth’s with an equal measure of sincerity.

“In an effort to ensure your success and safety, Jenova made me promise to be your protector. And if I failed to do so…” His brows slightly furrowed, watching Sephiroth’s reactions keenly. “She would take what I cherish most.” Vincent turned in the direction of the cave as he continued to speak.

“Do you recall telling me to venture out? To find ‘my treasure’?” His voice lowered just above a whisper. “Jenova never told you who that was, did she?” Vincent asked, assuming that Sephiroth had been cultivating the seeds of doubt long before he had sensed it. Vincent began to pace and walk passed Sephiroth, looking out in the direction of the cave. “That someone…she wishes to see her one and only treasure, as well.” He then looked over his shoulder towards Sephiroth, only exposing his profile as long black strands hid part of his face. “That treasure... is you.”

A normal human would have probably died several times by now. But even for an immortal with inhuman power, the intense journey, paired with the most violent WEAPON syphoning his energy, had rendered the gunslinger utterly drained. Even worse, the skies were burning up, signaling the end of the world, adding to the mental drain.

“Hmph… is that so?”

By this time, Vincent could feel himself reaching his energy limit. He had traveled with Sephiroth for days, barely rested in between before traveling several more days later on, backtracked for most of the distance, and then high-tailed back in almost half the time. All without resting, except for when Chaos forced him to collapse in sheer exhaustion.

Pathetic…

Moving himself to one of the rocky bordered walls, Vincent leaned his head back, allowing himself the luxury to rest for a moment. He would have to find the others soon and catch up to them. However, the one caveat was Jenova. He couldn’t tell if he was still bound to her whims. It was peculiar with the turn of events. While he had expected the planet to be nearing an end, he hadn’t anticipated for Sephiroth to engage in powerplay. Was this Jenova’s will? Or his own? Could he outsmart even Jenova herself?

The skies rumbled, and the clouds began to stir. Vincent could see the subtle hue shift and what looked to be a very bright orange glow attempting to break through the clouds. So this was Meteor… the terror of the entire planet. All created by a single black Materia. Somehow, Sephiroth had grabbed a hold of it. With how unstable Cloud had been lately, Vincent could only assume the events that took place. But did Cloud manage to escape with the others? He could only hope so. If he didn’t… he would never forgive himself.

Just as Vincent’s mind was beginning to drift into a state of slumber, Vincent’s attention was immediately arrested when he felt a dark presence approach him. There in front of him was Sephiroth—or at least Sephiroth’s appearance.

Recognizing the essence to be of Jenova, Vincent furrowed his brow, his crimson eyes scrutinizing the figure before him. He listened in complete silence. It was only afterwards that a faint scoff escaped his sealed lips. The compliment felt more like mockery.

Without saying another word, Vincent took up the bloody delivery package and sardonically threw it towards the shape-shifter’s feet. The head of Hojo rolled out of the cloth, coming to a stop at Sephiroth’s boots, glazed pallid eyes staring upward into Sephiroth’s face.

Depending on Jenova’s answer, Vincent would attempt ascertain whether or not she had lost control over Sephiroth’s will. Even if there was a good chance she would twist things around, a predator who lost control over their prey was bound to unleash revenge in some capacity.

A blight upon the face of the planet… never to plague the world anymore. How ironic.

“Hojo may be dead. But his work lives on…” The gunslinger narrowed his eyes up at the mako colored pair above him. He didn’t free Sephiroth from the clutches of the past, only. There was more to it than that. If it wasn’t clear before, it certainly was now.

“I merely eradicated your competition. Now, you can reclaim your thrown as the sole calamity upon the world.” Though his voice was measured, his eyes held contempt. He didn’t need Jenova to confirm or deny his words. Hojo had been a nuisance to Jenova, and he had just been a tool to be her hitman as it was most convenient. Sephiroth wanted closure, and a reason to test Vincent’s loyalty. At the same time, Hojo’s obsession with the Jenova project was likely a road-block that Jenova wanted removed. Two birds with one stone.

Eventually, Vincent stood up to his fullest height. Though weighed down by fatigue, he wasn’t going to entertain Jenova any more than he already had.

“The contract,” Vincent pressed, cutting to the chase. He glanced over his shoulder towards the massive barrier where Sephiroth was awakening. “I’ve kept my promise till now. But will you keep yours?” He had protected Sephiroth up to this point and it seemed his job was done.

#.Cycle of Suffering #aonemanarmy #Phantomyre Roleplay #ff7 roleplay #ff7 rp

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heich0e · 10 hours ago

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the suna where he asks if you'd have a baby with him

ask game: a christmas drabble from an established AU AU: wouldn't it be nice?

you've never been particularly good at giving people presents.

not for lack of trying, or lack of care—you want to be good at gift giving, but somehow you've just never quite mastered the skill. you're too indecisive to pick just one thing, so you always end up with a strange mismatched array of little gifts when the time comes, none of which have any particular connection to the other.

and that's to say nothing of your absolutely horrendous gift wrapping abilities.

before you started dating rintarou, christmas was always a real point of stress in your life. from picking out the gift, to tracking the item down, to trying (and ultimately failing) to wrap it in a way that didn't give the impression that a child had done it one-handedly. the stress that built up around the holiday often overshadowed any of the actual enjoyment you were meant to derive from it. and though none of your exes had ever explicitly called you out on being a god-awful gift giver, you knew that it was true.

thankfully, in that way that only rintarou seems to be able to do, that problem just... disappeared when the two of you started dating.

maybe disappeared is the wrong word, but that anxiety that you always used to feel cresting as the holidays drew near just never seemed to swell to the same point of misery as it used to. you never felt the same pressure to pick the perfect thing. to wrap it beautifully. to get it right.

because rintarou has this way of... reassuring you. of sensing when you're struggling and making things... easier. all without ever having to ask.

"i'm not big on gifts," he'd said to you, a full three weeks before your first christmas together. "wanna just go somewhere for the holiday, instead of buying presents? i've got some time off and have been thinking about going to kyoto."

and that settled it.

each christmas since then has passed similarly. either rintarou makes a plan, or very explicitly tells you what he'd like to get as a gift, and when the time comes, any of that stress that used to build up around the day just never even has the chance to take root.

but this year, there's a different sort of nervousness you feel about the holiday.

"my mom sent us a card," rintarou says, coming around the corner of your living room with a little red envelope in his hands. "she invited us to visit for the new year, too."

you shift in your seat under the kotatsu, looking up as he stands over you. "do you want to go?"

he sighs, slumping down onto the sofa behind you. "not really."

"we don't have to, then, if you really don't want to," you assure him, leaning back against the sofa so you're a little nearer to him. he inches forward on the couch cushions to close the gap even further. "but it might be nice to see your family."

rintarou isn't particularly close to his parents, who divorced when he was young. of his family members, the nearest to him is his little sister—and their relationship had largely been built once they both reached adulthood.

"last time we went to see my family my grandma tried to take you to a shaman to get you pregnant," rintarou replies dryly. "you sure you wanna go through that again?"

"i don't think the shaman was the one who was supposed to knock me up," you point out, and rintarou huffs out a laugh. you turn away from him a little. rintarou's grandmother was tired of waiting for great grand children and had tried to use shamanism to speed the process along—it had ended in an argument over a family dinner. "you two really are related, huh?"

"what was that?"

you peek at him over your shoulder.

"i think we should go to see them."

rintarou's brow quirks slightly at your words, and you lean forward so your elbows are resting on the edge of the couch cushion.

his eyes are always so green when you're this close to him, lined with those dark wispy lashes. so pretty. delicate and effortless in a way that would upset you if he wasn't already yours.

"you really wanna go?" he asks you quietly, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips when he speaks. you nod a little, and your lips brush because of the proximity—not quite a kiss, but enough to make him lean forward in search of one.

you pull away before he gets what he's looking for.

"and you can tell grandma that we won't need the shaman this year."

because she's already gotten what she wanted.

he blinks at you, and then his eyes widen, and before you know it he's sitting bolt upright on the sofa with a look of utter disbelief on his pretty face.

just like always, rintarou made gift giving easy this year.

only this time, the present is something you'll both cherish equally, because it's something you've been wanting, too.

#liv got mail

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oliversrarebooks · 11 hours ago

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The Rare Bookseller Part 78: Oliver's Awakening

Previous > Masterlist

tw: aftermath of mind control, discussion of abuse

October 1925

Oliver writhed on the ground, his chest as tight as a drum and tears squeezing from his eyes, as all the fear and pain and shame that had been suppressed the past few months flooded him.

He'd been content, so content to give up his own life to become the servant of a vampire, hardly even struggling as he was taken and confined and ensorcelled. He'd enjoyed the vile feedings, looking forward to the vampire drinking away his blood, pleased to slump over in the vampire's arms as his life was drained, satisfied with the twin scars on his neck. He'd cheerfully allowed the vampire to pass him around like a party favor to his lover, to curl up around him as he slept, to dress him up in ball gowns and take him to vampire dens to show off…

But truly, it wasn't the shame that hurt the most -- that was just the easiest of his emotions to understand. No, the worst of it was the profound sense of emptiness. It was if Alexander's music had filled something within him he hadn't known was empty. It had given him a purpose, even if it was to follow the selfish whims of a monster, and now he was devoid. Knowing intellectually that it had never been a real purpose, just enslavement, didn't ease the sting of his heart.

Vivian crouched down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Oliver, I know it's a lot to process. It might take days or weeks --"

"You don't know!" Oliver wrenched backwards to get away from her, furious. "You don't know what you just took. You can't!"

"I know it must hurt --"

"If you knew it would hurt like this, then why did you do it against my wishes?" Oliver demanded.

"Oliver!" Emily was standing nearby. "She was just trying to help. It's not fair to yell at her like that."

"It's not fair that I feel like this!"

"Leave him alone," said Vivian. "Let him scream at me if he wants. He's coming out of a much deeper enthrallment than you were in, Emily. It won't be easy."

"That's not true," she said indignantly. "I could barely talk, couldn't remember my past, wasn't even literate any more."

"Yes, and that's relatively easy for a vampire to do. What's been done to Oliver is far more precise and insidious, to keep him so intact on the surface while bending his desires and loyalties completely."

"Do you mind talking about me as though I'm not even here?" Oliver hated how angry he was, how he couldn't control the harshness of his voice. He was never angry, never so much as raised his voice at a difficult customer, not before he was captured. Even then, his anger had been weak, easily plucked out of his head by that damned Miss Lily. He felt sick to think of himself drowsing in her company, letting her rummage through his very mind, throw out anything she didn't like, and replacing his truth with a pretty painted facade.

"I'm sorry," said Vivian. "I know you're upset with me, but this is important. Can you still feel the connection with your former master?"

"No. It's been severed. I can't hear him anymore."

"That's good. With a vampire that powerful, it's likely that your connection is actually only weakened, not entirely destroyed. He may try to enter your head again, draw you under his sway."

Oliver nodded, ashamed that a part of him hoped he would, that Alexander's music would dull the pain. No, he would have to resist somehow. He couldn't go through all of this heartache for no reason, to go merrily skipping back into the arms of a vampire. Vivian's magic had stripped away the illusion, revealed the monster behind the handsome face.

"I'll try to resist," said Oliver shakily.

"Good, that's good. If you hear his voice, you need to tell me immediately, all right? I can help protect you, or wash out his influence again if we need to," she said. "It's my fault for not killing him when I had the chance. I was a coward. And now I'll have to plan to go after him again, before he hunts me down."

"Don't kill him!" Oliver's fervor surprised even him.

"Oliver, you'll never be safe until I do."

"I know that, but -- I don't want him to die. Maybe I should want him to die, maybe I'm still under his spell, but I can't bring myself to want him to die," he said, not understanding why he felt so strongly about this when he knew Alexander's true nature.

"He took you from your bookshop, remember?" said Emily. "The whole time we were in those cages -- at least, before Lily warped our minds -- that's all you could talk about, was your bookshop and how you had to return there. Don't you want to?"

His bookshop, and the tiny apartment above. His little safe haven, where he'd spent his entire life. The antique books locked behind the counter, the sagging shelves of the history section, the ratty armchair with the throw blankets that might still be waiting for him.

"I can't go back there," he said. "Alexander was one of my customers. He'd find me easily."

"That's why I have to kill him," said Vivian.

Mounting horror dawned on Oliver. "But even if you did kill him, it wouldn't do any good, because his sire would find out and hunt us both down. I'm sure of it."

"His sire? A vampire that powerful, and he's still beholden to his sire?"

"He's a terrifying vampire." The fear, which had been acute before, was now so much more sharp without Alexander's soothing influence. He could remember the feel of harsh fangs in his neck all too well, the panic of being unable to open his eyes. "Far more terrifying than Alexander could ever be. Alexander once told me that if we ever tried to escape him, he'd hunt us both down and make sport of it, and I believe him."

"It can't be…" Vivian muttered. "Tell me more about him, your former master's sire."

As much as Oliver didn't care to recall those memories, Vivian might actually be able to help. "I'll tell you whatever information I have. I'd be happy to see him die, and Alexander would, too. I don't know his real name, but they all call him the Maestro --"

"You've met him?" She gripped his shoulders like a madwoman. "You've actually met the Maestro?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You've heard of him?"

"He took my mother. He's the vampire I need to kill more than any other. You must tell me everything you know about him."

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I can tell you everything I've learned about him, if you agree that you won't kill Alexander."

"Even if I were convinced you truly meant that and it wasn't just residual conditioning, I couldn't agree to that. Alexander is likely to come after me for taking you, and if he does, I need to be able to defend myself."

"I suppose that's true," said Oliver reluctantly. He didn't want to admit to himself that it would be ideal if Vivian were to kill the Maestro but spare Alexander, so that he would have the option of returning to the vampire without the threat of his sire hanging over their heads.

No, he must still be under the spell. He shouldn't return to Alexander under any circumstances, not if he wanted to keep a free thought in his head.

"You need to tell me," Vivian insisted. "Revenge on the Maestro is one of the main reasons I became a hunter in the first place. It wasn't just my mother who suffered. He's killed at least twenty hunters, and he's believed to have kidnapped a number of musicians and stage performers. He needs to be stopped."

"He does." Oliver sighed, feeling that tiny bit of leverage slip. "All right. I'll tell you what I know."

He tried to recall everything he could for Vivian's sake -- everything Lex had told him, and especially recounting his own experiences with the cruel vampire. Emily sat nearby, her eyes going wide with horror as Oliver described his blinding and the painful feeding. Vivian, on the other hand, was absorbing all of Oliver's words carefully.

"So when he controlled you -- was there any sort of induction he had to perform? Any conditions he had to meet?"

"I don't think so, or at least I don't remember any. Alexander didn't mention any either. He was able to puppet my body as easily as if I were a toy, and there didn't seem to be any way to resist it."

"Hm. That's going to be trouble," said Vivian, deep in thought. "And when he stopped you from opening your eyes again -- how long did it take for that enthrallment to wear off?"

"It didn't. The next day, Alexander took me to Miss -- to another vampire's home, one that specializes in hypnotizing humans, and she reversed the Maestro's command."

"A specialist in hypnotizing humans? Lily?"

"You know her too?"

"Yes, I'm aware of her."

"Are you going to kill her, too?"

"I really should, considering how many people's minds she's destroyed -- or are you going to defend her as well?"

"…No." Truthfully, he felt more conflicted about it than he should, given that Vivian was objectively correct. How many human minds had she stolen? How many lives had she cut short, selling innocent people off to vampires with nothing more than glee about her profits? She was the one who had twisted his mind, and all those feelings of comfort and warmth as he slept in her chair were nothing more than lies to keep him docile.

"So do have any idea where the Maestro lives?"

"No, I'm sorry. Those are the only two times I encountered him, and Alexander never mentioned where he lives, from what I can recall."

Vivian sighed. "It's a pity. But even so, you've given me far more information than I had yesterday, and I'm grateful for it."

"You know… both you and Alexander want the Maestro dead. Could you ever consider working together?" asked Oliver.

"Working with a vampire?"

"Only this one specific time, only to kill an even worse vampire!"

"I can't do that," said Vivian. "Even if we do have the same goal. Fighting a vampire as formidable as the Maestro would leave me vulnerable, and I can't trust that this Alexander wouldn't simply enthrall me afterwards. In fact, he'd be stupid not to, lest I kill him."

Oliver wanted to protest that Alexander wouldn't do that… except that Alexander might actually do that. After all, he had no qualms at all about buying a human at auction, even a human he previously knew as an equal. Why would he hesitate to enthrall a hunter?

"Come on," said Vivian, helping him off the floor. "We can talk more about this later. You've been through a lot tonight, and need more time to shake off the spell you've been under. We have a room that you can use, but I'm going to have to lock you in, and keep you under surveillance for now, at least until we're sure that your vampire isn't going to try and push himself into your head again."

"Fine," he said, accepting that Vivian didn't trust him. He didn't even trust himself. "Why can he still do that, if you've undone the enthrallment?"

"There's a psychic connection established when a vampire drinks your blood. It's not quite the same thing as enthrallment, and it can be very strong. It fades in days or weeks, but until then, you'll still be vulnerable to the vampire's influence."

"I see." He wondered if that applied to any vampire which had fed from him. If it did, that meant -- "But the Maestro, he…"

"Yes," she said grimly. "Has he ever entered your mind before, when he's not there in person?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"I hope not either. I'm not prepared to fight him just yet. If you sense anything, you need to tell me right away."

"Yes, of course."

Vivian led Oliver out of the attic and into a room little bigger than a closet, with a cot and a small chest of drawers. "You should get some rest," she said, herding Oliver inside. "You'll feel better once you have. Is there anything you need?"

"A glass of water, please?" asked Oliver, sitting on the edge of the cot. "And if you have any interesting books…"

"Certainly. I'll see what I can do."

Oliver waited patiently for Vivian to return with the water and a couple of old magazines. As soon as she left the room and he heard the lock click shut, he fell back onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't even be able to concentrate on reading, not with all the thoughts crowding his head.

He was free.

Wasn't he?

It was terribly hard to feel free when he was locked into a small room, the threat of his vampiric master and his sire still hanging over his head like an executioner's axe. The confinement was for his own safety, and he understood the reasons, but he wouldn't actually be free until both Alexander and the Maestro had ceased to walk the earth.

He was frustrated with himself. He shouldn't care so much about the well-being of a vampire who had literally purchased him at auction. And yet…

Now that the initial shock and fear had worn off, he was finding himself gripped by a deep and profound sadness. The cot he lay on was hard and cold, and he couldn't suppress his longing for his bed at home -- no, Alexander's bed. It wasn't ever his. He'd been hypnotized to share it, to cuddle up with a monster.

He'd been hypnotized into affection.

And it was really the only affection he'd had since he was a child, wasn't it? He'd lived such a solitary and quiet life, spending almost every night alone in his small apartment with books for company. Even the simple pleasure of curling up to read next to someone else had been foreign to him until he came into Alexander's possession.

And it had all been a fabrication meant to keep him compliant, hadn't it? He shouldn't miss it. He should be glad to be rid of it.

But the thought of returning to his solitary life, of never experiencing actual tenderness, was crushing him inside. He'd been starving for so many years, but it had been bearable when he didn't know what he was missing. Now that he knew that his choice was between actual loneliness and false companionship, he could only be ashamed at the parts of himself which preferred the lie.

No, he had to press on somehow. He couldn't return himself to a monster, no matter how charming. He should be happy to be freed. He could have his own life back. He could sleep during the night and wake during the day, and walk in the sunshine, and choose to go wherever he pleased.

He could take what little money he had stashed in his bookshop and take a train out of town, or a boat overseas, see the new places that he dreamed about but never got around to visiting. He could start his life over, do something else with it. Live a fuller life in the here and now rather than wait in his lonely little bookshop, wait for something to happen to him. Something had happened to him, and it should have taught him a lesson about choosing what he wants before it's chosen for him.

It was exhilarating. But…

For all his newly gained freedom, he still had no idea what he actually wanted. The desire for fangs in his neck was fake, but at least it was a clear desire. What did he want before, apart from books and safety? And who was he now, now that he knew the dangerous world of the supernatural lurked just behind every streetlamp, just waiting to pull him into it?

Previous > Masterlist

Next week: Oliver is not as free as he might have hoped.

I'll also have a Christmas-adjacent self-indulgent vampire story up tomorrow, so please keep an eye out! And vote in the holiday edition of Sedation Vending Machine!

Thanks for reading this story another year, and happy holidays!

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