#don’t force your feet into shoes that don’t fit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

running-with-kn1ves · 1 year

Note

Got me awe struck how you write so well kinda wish i had that skill too! Anyway, how about boyfriend praising reader(who felt insecure) starting from sweet then getting creepier. Like something in the lines of "praising their kindness, so lucky to have them" to "he knows , he will kill for them."

A/N: A/N: sacrificed my soul for this one and it didn't turn out as slayful as I wanted.. Anyway, I hope this is what you were thinking anon :D sorry for any mistakes and thank you!

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's compliment goes a little too far when he tries to cheer you up.

T/W: Mildly graphic threats of violence, forced kissing, manipulation, insecure reader, yandere themes/behaviors

WC:3000

You found yourself in a bathroom stall for the fifth time in one evening, sitting on the toilet with your head in your hands. You just wanted it all to go away: the people, the drinks, the music that boomed in your ears. You had already stained your sequined clothes with spilt champagne earlier that night, the stickiness of it on your chest beginning to mix with the thick sweat crawling down your neck. It was too damn hot in here, the buzz of the bathroom fan making you claw at your updone hair.

The mass amounts of club goers here were far more accustomed to this lifestyle than you. Which was intimidating, to say the least. They all looked so perfectly dolled up-- not a smudge of makeup out of place, delicious scents of colognes and perfumes mixing together. Not to mention, they could hold their alcohol far better than you could.

One bitter cocktail and you were already hazy-eyed, your face warm and balance a little loopy. You were by no means drunk, but the contents of your drink had certainly offered a level of instability to your emotions and movements.

The image of men in their chic dress shirts that showed hours of gym time and girls in their tight party dresses made you want to curl up in the corner and marinate in self-pity. It was hard not to compare yourself, not when you spent hours searching for the right clothes that would fit with your boyfriend’s stylish accents, constantly perfecting your concealer to hide the dark bags beneath your eyes.

And yet, even with your hard work, you still felt out of place, still felt the pinch of hundreds of passing stares and biting grins of condescension as you stood next to your overly charismatic significant other.

Through your pounding headache and shaky breaths, You could hear the winding creak of the bathroom door being pushed open.

Narrow-footed shoes echoed on the white tile floor, slowly passing each bathroom stall and sink basin.

“Sweetheart?” A voice questioned. “You in here?”

You stayed silent, covering your mouth and lifting your feet from the floor. You didn’t want him to know you had spent the past 20 minutes in here wiping away stinging tears from your eyes, shoving paper towels down the front of your dazzling shirt to soak up champagne. You smelled like alcohol and whatever cleaner they used to permeate the bathroom with, and it certainly wouldn’t be a sight that you wanted your boyfriend to see.

However, despite your attempts to make yourself disappear, you saw his clubbing shoes patiently make their way to the front of your stall. You looked within the separating crack of the door and the wall, seeing a blur of black clothes and sun-kissed skin. Your eyes focused and without warning you made eye contact with him, his face showing a worried, yet sly grin. He was waiting-- peering in on you sitting there in ruin.

You jolted in surprise, your foot slipping from the toilet seat as you looked away. You hoped if you moved fast enough, that maybe he would think you were someone else.

“C’mon, let me in.” He pressed against the door, trying to open it from the outside.

Well, seemed like tricking him didn’t work.

“Don’t come in here Ezra! I--” You weren’t sure how to convince him to go away. “I don’t want you to see me.”

He went quiet, keeping his hand atop the door handle and watching the door.

“Why not?”

Panic rose in your chest again, forcing you to try to come up with a way to get him to leave you alone, atleast long enough to make yourself look presentable.

“I-... I just--”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t make fun of you or anything, just open the door,” He raddled the handle, pressing his face against the crack of the door.

“Don’t!” You shout, trying to cover the crack with your hands.

Your boyfriend let out a low grunt, annoyed at your stubbornness.

He tried rattling the door once more, pulling hard enough to make the hinges creak. You feared that if he pulled any harder, he might rip the entire door off.

“You’ve been in there for almost a half hour,” Ezra impatiently replied, putting his hand on the top of the stall door. “If you don’t open up, I’m going to force my way in there.”

He began to pull, jerking the door hard enough that the other stalls began to clatter.

“No-- wait okay okay okay!” You panicked, trying to pry his hand away from the top of the door.

Instantaneously he grabbed your wrist, pulling it upward to get a good handle on you. His fingers were warm, as if he had his hands clenched for a long period of time.

“I’m not letting go until you do.” He said coldly, squeezing your hand. He was serious, holding your wrist securely enough to show he meant business: he’d stand there all night if that's what it took. Your several disappearances had worried him enough.

His thumb moved up to caress the dip in your palm, turning your hand to face outwards. Ezra’s face was still pressed up against the door crack, looking to provoke you further out.

Stomping your foot, you wracked your brain for something-- anything, to deter him away. But the lingering threat of his hand left your mind to draw a blank.

“....Fine.” You mutter, pulling the paper towels out of your chest. You try to wipe away any leftover tears, but you know it does little to lessen the redness of your eyes.

With a shaky breath, you ask him to stand back, and slowly unlock the door. Purposely taking as long as possible, you keep your feet moving at an inchworm's pace, hardly stepping away from the stall.

Your boyfriend tears open the stall door now that its unlocked, not yet releasing your arm.

You see his figure in front of you but refuse to look up, instead turning away and allowing him to drag you out of the small confines of the stall. He pulls you to the large sink basins, reaching for your chin. You flinch a little as he turns your head, looking at your tear stricken face. You felt like a mess, but he didn’t seem to change expression as you stared back.

“Now, what’s been the matter sweetheart?”

You feel the cold of his rings against your balmy cheeks, his thumb running over your wet eyelashes to brush away unfallen tears.

“I just don’t feel good…” You say, relishing in the affection, even though it makes your stomach churn.

“What doesn't feel good?” He asks, letting go to inspect the rest of you.

You relax against the low counter, feeling it hit your tailbone.

“Did someone hurt you?” He searches your body for marks. “Are you feeling sick? Had too much to drink, baby?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a child answering to their mother.

“You’re going to have to tell me what it is, then. I can’t read your mind.” He lightly scolds.

There’s a gentleness in the deep vibrato of his voice as he bares the blunt words, looking at you with an expectant gaze.

You fidget a tad, beginning to pace in a small two-step dance.

“I just--” You turn away, fidgeting with your fingers. “I feel, ridiculous.”

You move to grasp your forehead, avoiding your boyfriends gaze.

“Dressed up in this stupid get up, surrounded by these people who-- who I don’t belong next to, who make me look like a fool for being here…!”

You fold your arms over your chest defensively, turning away from the man.

“Did you see the way everyone was looking at me? I looked so stupid, standing next to you! Or even next to them, as if I could convince them that I belong here, next to someone of their own.” You turned to stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person who stared back. “I just.. I don’t belong here, with you… with these people… I feel absurd for even trying.”

You hear your voice shake at the last few words, not realizing you were getting worked up enough to cry. But then there it was, that burning in your nose and the blurriness of tears in your eyes. You felt your face scrunch and tense up, the ugliness of your cries breaking out to make you feel even smaller.

Putting a hand to your mouth and turning away from the mirror, you hoped your boyfriend hadn’t seen or heard the way you appeared ready to sob.

But a heavy, commanding hand pulled your shoulder back, turning you around with ease as you let your body fall to whatever whims he desired.

Your nose was shoved against Ezra’s chest as he pushed your head against him, wrapping his arms around you. He stroked your hair, pushing it off your sweaty skin. It was almost suffocating, the way he trapped you against him. But it made you feel secure, knowing that he couldn’t see your face full of tears and shame, that you didn’t have to continue to spill your heart out to him.

“Baby….” He said. It was in such a soft, understanding tone that you didn’t think it came from his lips at first. “How could you ever, ever, compare yourself to these… strangers?”

You sniffled against his dress shirt, hiding yourself in his chest and expensive cologne, a scent so familiar and potent that it put your body at ease.

“I mean, you? Versus them? These half drunken idiots who can barely hold themselves up?” Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking slightly against you. “Darling why would you ever want to be like them?”

You wiped your eyes, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“I thought thats what… you wanted. How else am I supposed show up when I meet your friends.” You mumbled.

Your boyfriend pulls your chin, lifting you to face him.

“I brought you here to meet everyone because I wanted them to meet you, not whatever persona the rest of the assholes here portray.”

You looked away, letting his words sink in.

“Besides, they were only looking at you because you were the most captivating thing in that room,” He ran his pointer finger over your bottom lip, the cold of his rings hitting the bitten skin.

“The most,” He cut himself off with a kiss to your neck. “Stunning,” kiss, ” “kind,” another kiss, “and amazing thing in that room. They were just how awestruck I was when I first saw you.”

He softened as he saw you squeeze your lips shut, preventing a smile from escaping.

“Though I won’t let them make the same moves on you like I did.” He joked, laughing as he saw you roll your eyes.

Brushing his thumb on your cheek, Ezra took away the remnants of tears. A pit of shame grew in your stomach when you saw him frown at your saddened state.

“But listen,” He bent closer to your face, shifting his warm hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, hands down. And I wouldn’t trade any of the bastards in here for you, so enough self-loathing.”

Your cheeks squish as he pressed his palms against them, forcing your head to nod as you went limp.

“Good.” He smiled, grinning at how you seemed to wait for his next response.

You let him let go, even though you wanted to stay in that position of safety for longer.

He ruffled your hair back in place, fixing the few scraggled strands that he could. Ezra talked while fetching a paper towel to clean the goo beneath your eyes, originally from your tears.

“I mean, honestly, do you think I wouldn’t kill the bastards in here if they tried to look at you wrong? Come on, no way I would let that slide.”

You smiled at hearing that, thinking he was just being dramatic.

Paper towel in hand, Ezra lifted you up from the ground slightly. He put you down on the sink counter, keeping his hands planted to the sides of your abdomen.

Letting out a low laugh, he continues to wipe away at your eyes. His demeanor shifted to be quieter; something you aren't used to from your blab of a boyfriend.

Dark hair covers to his eyelids, sticking to his skin as the heat from the bathroom has begun to her to him.

The humming of the bathroom fan is all that fills the room for a few moments, Ezra’s concentration on your eyes leaving you both quiet. Though, you could tell he still had something he wanted to say.

"I mean, you don't understand how many times I've had the urge to mutilate the men in this club for staring at you, just from tonight alone" he licked his lips, curling his unmoving hand beside you. He seemed to be… nervous. "I'd pull their teeth out first, working my way down. Tearing each fingernail off one by one, pulling the veins from their wrists… I'd remove anything they have to witness you with."

He looked back up at you, staring within your eyes as if he was lost in them, as if he was looking inside of you. Despite his tender look that seemed to crave your cooperation, that should have made you blush– your smile fell. The warmth once spreading in your chest was now going cold, sinking to your stomach.

"You captivated the whole room, and I can't stand it…" he didn't seem to notice your fallen expression, or the shaking in your hands on the counter. "I hate the way they can hear your laugh, sit beside you and feel your warmth… how you can smile at them and let them make you feel as if you aren't the best thing to ever walk into this club. I hate it so fucking much."

Your boyfriend trailed his finger down the sequins on your clothes, trying to hold himself back from getting too close.

You shifted uncomfortably as your he leaned up close to your mouth, just far away enough to where he couldn't indulge in how badly he wanted to kiss you. There was this suffocating desire inside his chest to paint his claim violently upon your body in this bathroom right now, to let you walk put of this club with everyone staring at the little pieces of him only, forcing them all to know who you really belong to.

You didn't know what to say to his confession…. Should you thank him? Run away? Beg him to go to therapy?

Instead you stayed quiet, searching for the right words to not tick him off, now that you knew what he was potentially…. Capable of.

"They want to hurt you, to use you and then throw you away like some brainless sex doll. They only have bad intentions, baby."

Your boyfriend slid down to your knees, crouching down as you sat on the counter above him. He pulled your left leg toward him gently, kissing up from your ankle, to your shin, to your knee.

"But i'll take care of you, I won't let you be tricked.."He looks up at you with fluttering lashes, raising your leg ever so slightly to press his lips against your inner thigh.

"You know how much I adore you… right?"

Your skimpy clothes gave him even more access than you felt comfortable with, seeing the adoration pulsate within his eyes and the desperation in his hands.

"Of course," you reply, hesitantly bringing a hand up to his cheek, hoping he wasn't thinking of murdering you too in this bathroom.

His warm, damp hands molded the flesh of your bare thighs in his fingers, pushing in between the tight layer of where your tiny shorts and your skin meet, trying to dig beneath them. He wanted to hold all of you, to keep you in his arms so you couldn't even think of leaving, of running to someone else.

"You know that I'd never hurt you… that I only want what's best for you… that I'd kill for you--…" he mumbles the last bit, pressing your hand deeper against his cheek as he looks up from below at you, giving a cheeky grin.

You nod your head, hoping his homicidal thoughts were just that-- thoughts.

He was quick to fool you again with that sweet, lovely smile that seemed to bask in your presence, the smile that made you feel like the most desirable person in the world. No matter how many threats he gave out they never seemed to deter the fact that his soft, adoring expression made you feel like he'd choose you in a room full of thousands.

Your small assurance gave him the confidence to press his head further between your legs, running kisses back up from your knee to your thigh.

He trailed up your skin, kisses growing hungry. Pulling your sequined shorts, your boyfriend buried his head between your thighs– trying to get where he knows he'll have full control over you.

"Not here," you said breathlessly and bewildered, trying to push away his head. "We can't do that here–!"

His hair was soft, even with the thin spread of gel that kept it in place as you ran your hands down to his neck. Tugging at tufts of his hair and using your legs to push him away, you found little to nothing dispirited him.

"Just let me show how much I love you..."

Each time you tried to use your knee to push him, Ezra pushed it against the sink countertop with the heavy weight of his hand. He looked up at you with a sick grin that meant: “just try and beat me.” A part of you felt panicked, not just from the compromising position-- but from how insistent he was. Like he was trying to prove something to you.

It wasn't until the echo of the bathroom door swinging open and hitting the wall, did he lift his head. His eyes went wide, jaw clenching as he whipped around to look. The fearful expression would've been funny if you weren't just as scared.

You quickly jumped off the counter and pulled your shorts back into position, watching to see someone peak around from the corner. But the sounds of drunken laughter faded away, and no one made themselves apparent.

You and Ezra sighed simultaneously, the heat from the stuffy bathroom showing to have been too much for the both of you.

He reached for your hand, pulling you towards him. Ezra goes quiet, and you keep your gaze to the ground. He had shown sides of himself tonight that you weren’t exactly sure how to process.

“Lets just go home, okay?” Ezra says after a few moments, whispering with a grin.“I wanna finish what we started.”

What were you to say? You stuttered, thinking to protest, to run away or maybe even admit how afraid you were.

But with a kiss to your sweaty forehead, your boyfriend slung his arm over your shoulder and began leading you to the exit of the bathroom.

Your feet had moved on your own, your mouth still lingering to form words. As Ezra opened the door, the stench of alcohol and cheap perfume hit you once again.

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trivia-yandere · 1 year

Text

paid in full

"all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired. masterlist | @darkuni63 @momnomnom writer: lyse word count: 10.116 warning: step-siblings, smut, blackmail, kissing (f on f), nipple sucking, wet dreams, alcohol intake, intake, kissing (m on f), fingering, dirty talking, praising, squirting,

“Sit straight.” your mother hisses quietly to you but her smile never falters. “They’ll be here any minute.”

You do as you’re told quietly, seething in your seat. You feel uncomfortable in the dress you were forced into by your mother and your feet are killing you - also thanks to your dear mother.

Your mother - back a few months ago - had met a man. You were less than surprised by that fact. Your mother has never not been single throughout your life. She assured whatever she or you needed that a man would be the one providing it. Boyfriend #19 had taken you to a father-daughter dance before she left him for the next.

Your father was once in the picture, but was later chased off by your mother; her claiming that neither of you needed a man with less income than her. It was laughable - because her income was never her own.

Now, the two of you are seated in a lavish restaurant with high ceilings equipped with chandeliers and classical music. Your mother is now going to introduce you to one of her latest catches - a man named Joon-sik. You rarely remember the names of such men, you would rather categorize them by Boyfriend, Fiance and Husband and whatever number they were. Your mother was married only twice, both marriages ending after a year. She was engaged a handful of times and the boyfriends were endless - and you counted the ones after you were born.

“He’s here.” your mothers tone is one of excitement and nervousness. “Stand up.”

You’re robotic. Your eyes scan whoever was strolling towards the two of you - and you’re left confused. A man is walking towards the pair of you, a light smile on his lips. He fits the part - elegant suit tailored to his size, dress shoes that you’re sure you can see your reflection on and light jewelry but not enough to be flashy.

“Who is that behind him?” you murmur the question to your mother and she only giggles in response, waving at the man.

“His son.”

Your throat goes dry when both men approach closer. Joon-sik’s son is tall, even taller than him. He stands out in this environment. Tight fitted black shirt with light blue jeans. Hi. His compact boots stood out just as the rest of his appearance did. Your initial thought was that he wore an undershirt with graphic sleeves, but as they came closer to your table, you realized that it was a sleeve of tattoos.

You gulp at the sight of the taller boy - man, because a boy could never look like him. His hair appeared soft; black and wavy. Was that a lip piercing?

“Joon-sik.” your mother cannot contain her excitement when he reaches the table. She rounds it and engulfs him into a hug, but you don’t watch. It’s difficult to remove your eyes from the unnamed man behind Joon-sik.

“This is my daughter.” your ears hear your mother say and finally you’re released from your trance.

Your reactions are robotic once more. You’ve been through this countless times. You smile at the man and bow slightly.

“This,” the man turns slightly to his son. He ushers him closer. “Is my son Jungkook.” he introduces proudly.

Jungkook offers a smile and you feel hot. His teeth are straight and pearly white and his lips appear gloss-like - not a crack in sight.

Your mother appears happy. You’re unsure if it’s genuine or if Joon-sik has a large enough bank account and will that causes her to smile. Nonetheless, Joon-sik is seemingly a nice man. He’s speaking with the two of you normally, asking you questions about your life - even if your mother does answer for you.

Jungkook doesn’t speak much but the relationship with his father was pure. His father speaks of his achievements proudly and you feel envious. It was obvious that Jungkook was not forced to be someone he wasn’t - forced into fancy clothes like you and to “sit politely” or “engage in the conversation”.

“Y/N-ah.” Joon-sik speaks. “I heard you’re applying to several universities.”

You nod your head while sipping your water.

“She applied late.” your mother sighs. “She wished to take a break after high school.”

You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your mother didn’t approve of the couple of years you took off to focus on yourself and gain work experience. But of course, this is a woman that hasn’t worked in years and opted in having others pay for whatever was needed.

“Jungkook had, as well.” Joon-sik smiles at you. “He’s actually going in the next few months.”

You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you. Panicked, you looked away.

“Oh!” your mother clasps her hands together. “You should apply to the same one.”

“It’s an amazing art institution.” Joon-sik nods. “Jungkook is into photography mostly, but he also dabbles in dancing from time to time. Paintertry, videography.”

You’re impressed and allow your eyes to glance at Jungkook. You wouldn’t take him for a man that dances, but you don’t wish to judge a book by its cover..

Jungkook chuckles lowly, a soft tint on his cheeks.

“That’s amazing.” your mother compliments and you want to scoff. She told you from her own mouth that pursuing art was a waste of time - but that couldn’t be said to the man she was pursuing.

“What are you into, Y/N-ah?” Joon-sik asks you.

“Y/N also into…art.” your mother giggles and gently taps your thigh. She doesn’t know what type of art, she hasn’t bothered to ask or appear interested.

You nod your head and your ears pick up on light chuckling.

You feel your body grow hot with embarrassment. Was he laughing at you?

“I see.” Joon-sik's smile doesn’t falter. “If you’d like,” he glances between you and Jungkook. “You can go to the same institution. I know people and getting you in wouldn’t be an issue.”

Your eyes widen and you turn to your mother. She slightly nods her head and you return your eyes to Joon-sik. “That would be amazing.” you respond.

Jungkook takes a sip of his drink and hums lowly to himself. His eyes flicker between you and your mother and he’s positive that you were nothing but a puppet and had been since your childhood; possibly even birth. You hadn’t had the chance to speak until now with permission.

“Now that introductions are out of the way.” Joon-sik raises his glass - a wine glass that had gone untouched since a server had poured it. “We have to tell the two of you something.”

You swallow.

Joon-sik grasps your mothers hands. “We’re getting married.”

You weren’t shocked at the news, but Jungkook stiffens visibly.

“And we’re moving in together!” your mother squeals.

That was new in a way. The men your mother dealt with never had children, and if they did you never met them. You moved from house to condo, apartment back to house throughout your life. But never with a “sibling” figure.

“That’s kind of fast.”

Jungkook’s voice is deep, but not shockingly so.

“It is.” Joon-sik agrees. “But I’m not as young as you, son. When you find the one…” he nods at your mother. “...you do what it takes to keep her.”

You’re uncertain how Jungkook feels. This wasn’t new to you. You dealt with your mothers shenanigans your entire life. However, you’re unsure how Jungkook spent his life. Was his mother involved unlike your father? Did Joon-sik have countless girlfriends, fiance’s and wives?

Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Y/N begged me for a sibling once upon a time.” your mother giggles. “Now you have a brother!”

You’re embarrassed once more but you don’t allow yourself to say anything.

Jungkook connects his eyes to yours. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, it’s pink and wet and you’re disturbed that you’re even watching it coat his lips.

“Step-brother.” Jungkook comments low and you’re positive it’s more to you than to your mother’s comment.

The large estate Jungkook and Joon-sik called home was massive and the biggest you’ve ever seen; and you’re seen a lot.

By the following month your mother and you had moved into the estate and called it your home.

The estate was so large that you rarely saw your mother - she and Joon-sik occupied the right side of the estate while you and Jungkook occupied the left. The two of you shared a kitchen and dining area, a large sitting area and you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom connected to your room. It was as if you had your own apartment away from your mother.

Your eyes follow the amount of cereal options displayed and hum. You were hungry and wanted nothing but a quick and light snack - you decided on cereal.

You decided on a box of marshmallow cereal. You grasp the box and pry it open, licking your lips with anticipation.

You’ve come to realize that everything in the estate was fit for a tall man such as Jungkook. The bowls are inside of a cabinet high up. You always need to climb the counter just to get it, which is what you do. Your knees are planted onto the cold marble counter tops and your hand reaches for the bowl when another one shoots out and grabs the same bowl you were reaching for.

You yelp in surprise, body turning until you’re seated on said countertop.

Jungkook stands behind you, dangerously close. He holds the bowl in his hands, eyes watching your face for a reaction.

You swallow.

“Good girl.”

You feel hot at his words, but you shake your head. “W-what?”

“Your nickname.” Jungkook mumbles. “Good girl suits you.”

Jungkook places the bowl beside you on the counter, but he doesn’t step away from you.

You open your mouth to speak, but you cannot release any response.

“You’ve been here for a month now and you do nothing but stay home.” Jungkook continues. He comes even closer and now, he’s directly between your legs. “You allow your mother to speak for you constantly. Even as an adult, you listen to her commands.”

You’re taken aback. Was Jungkook…reading you? He had met you a month ago at dinner and since then, had clocked everything that has happened in your life - and he kept it to himself until now.

“You’re a good girl that does what she’s told.”

Your eyes stare into Jungkook’s, neither eyes blinking. His words replay in your mind nonstop.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “Or do you need permission to speak?”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond to your question.

“It’s easy for you to say.” you quip. “Your father lets you do whatever you want.”

Jungkook furrows a brow.

“You don’t have expectations to live up to.” you continue.

“Good girls talking back now.” Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. “Have you ever done anything she didn’t like?”

You don’t respond but instead ponder on his question.

No, you haven’t. Your mother was strict when it came to her rules and you’ve done your best to always obey them.

“That’s a no.” Jungkook snorts. “There’s a party tonight.”

You raise your brows at his words.

“At a college that a friend of mine attends. You should come.”

You have never been to a party like that. You’ve gone to birthday celebrations and business gatherings with your mother - to mingle, she says - but never to a college party.

Jungkook watches your face twist and contort in confusion. You were struggling and now he understands this is probably your first real party - not something your mother would be there for.

“Or do you need mother’s permission?” Jungkook teases.

You gulp, feeling your cheeks redden. He was teasing you and you didn’t like it.

“I don’t…have a way there.” you attempted to turn down his invitation.

“You can come with me.” Jungkook shrugs. “I want to introduce you to a few friends.”

Seems like you need them, Jungkook wants to say, but he keeps it to himself. He never met anyone so sheltered before. Sure, he heard a mouth full from his father that he needed to become more “brotherly” towards you, but that didn’t mean his intentions were counterfeit.

“Would there be…” your words trail off and Jungkook waits for you to continue. “...drugs?”

Jungkook is silent at your question, but at your serious face and large curious eyes, he cackles.

“W-what’s funny?”

“You watch too much TV.” Jungkook laughs. “I don’t take drugs…but if you-”

“No!” you hiss with a head shake. “I don’t-”

“Relax.” Jungkook places his hands on your thighs - you're soft, he notes, bare thighs sitting against the counter. “No drugs. Alcohol and weed, yes. But there's water and other refreshments.”

You nod your head. You were skeptical of agreeing to this party. You and his friends had to be different and you were more than positive that Jungkook pitied you more than anything. But, this would possibly be your chance at a real college party. With drunk party goers and dancing with loud music - maybe even the police would come and shut it down because of how intense it would be.

“No.” your mother scoffs and walks around you. “We don’t do college parties.” she shakes her head once more. “How would that benefit you?”

You had gained enough courage to ask your mother for permission to go to a party. Jungkook had insisted that you didn’t need to because, of course, you were an adult. However, you had never gone against your mother before and there couldn’t be a reason for you to suddenly start now.

“Exactly.” your mother quips. “Instead of a party, why don’t you mingle with someone that can elevate you?”

You gulp at her words.

Your mother doesn’t dwell on the question and you don’t bother to answer. Nor do you bother to dwell on the party. You ate dinner alone in the large kitchen, not bothering to occupy the dining room.

You decided on a late night shower to hole up in your own misery. You should have listened to Jungkook when he stated that you didn’t need your mothers permission, but going against her terrified you. It peaked your anxiety that there would be a chance that you’d disappoint her.

A knock sounds at your door when you turn off the shower faucet. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer it, and Jungkook is standing behind it. His arms are crossed and he offers a slight smirk when you open the door. He’s sporting a dark shirt with a matching dark leather jacket. His jeans are light washes with rips at the knees with a pair of compact boots - you ponder if they’re the same one or a different pair.

“I’m glad you’re getting ready.”

You release a shaky breath.

Jungkook frowns. “Oh.” he hums. “Mother dearest said no.”

There’s a tone in Jungkook’s voice, you note. A teasing tone, a “I told you so” tone.

“I’m saddened, Good Girl.” Jungkook places a hand above his heart. “I told my friends that my step-sister will be making an appearance.”

You feel small beneath his gaze. Your hair is wet and droplets of water are dripping down onto the robe and onto the floor.

“I-I…I’m sorry.” you apologize, having nothing else to say.

Jungkook licks his lips. “Don’t be.” he assures. “There’ll be more parties. This one was going to be at one of my friends' homes. Taehyung is his name.” Jungkook uncrosses his arms. “Well, goodbye Good Girl. I’m having the drivers take me now.”

Jungkook turns away from your door and you call after him. “You don’t drive?”

“Of course I do.” Jungkook calls back, not bothering to turn around. “But I don’t drink and drive, Good Girl.”

Jungkook’s words replay in your mind. He told his friends about you - that you’d be coming. You were amazed that you truly wanted to go to this party and see how people your age were. You didn’t have many friends, mainly acquaintances that your mother deemed “profitable”. You only ever had one boyfriend who, again, was chosen by your mother and that ended horribly.

You dry your hair and add a product, a leave-in conditioner so your hair wouldn’t become frizzy. You take a deep breath while adding lotion to your exposed skin while watching your reflection.

An hour had since gone past and you were tip-toeing outside of your room and outside of the estate. It was quiet and the sky was dark and starless. Your feet dragged you outside the estate and towards the large gates.

You knock on the large SVU window, the tints made it hard for you to look inside.

The window rolls down and an older man sits behind the wheel. He furrows a brow at you.

“Can you take me to…Taehyung’s house?” you ask, unsure how to ask the question without becoming more confused. “Where Jungkook is.”

“Get in.” the man nods his head and unlocks the door. You quickly got into the backseat and put your seatbelt on. Your heart is racing and your eyes watch the estate as if your mother would be coming out any moment.

You never snuck out of your home before. There wasn’t a reason to, not until now.

You were a young adult and cannot say you’ve gone to a party or had a taste of alcohol. Your mother assured you that you always appeared on guard, that someone was always watching even when you assumed they weren’t.

The drive pulls up to a large estate and now you feel even more out of place than before. Loud music is playing and hundreds of people are outside of the estate.

You thanked the driver and made your way towards the estate. You stood out like a sore thumb - you wore a loose fitted button up shirt and a skirt that stopped a few inches before your knees. The party goers dressed more scandalous than you and there was evidence of drinking. The girls swayed with the music while the men stood close behind them.

Your eyes trailed around for a familiar face - Jungkook didn’t appear to be anywhere.

You were just glad to be here, even after 30 minutes of not finding Jungkook. You held your cup of juice close to you and lightly nodded your head to the music.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook catches you from up the stairs. He was tipsy when he caught your figure - the only person dressed as if she was going to the library. He had left a drunk Jimin nodding off against the wall to make his way towards you.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, a sigh of relief releasing for your lips. “I…I made it.”

Jungkook snorts. “You did. Mother dearest decided to let you leave?”

You shake your head. You lift your head higher. “I snuck out.” you murmur, a sense of pride.

Jungkook fights back his laughter. He doesn’t want you to think he is laughing at you, because he’s not. Or he doesn’t want to, at least. But sneaking out to go to a party as a young adult appears completely childish. But here you stand, eyes shining with such mischief and delight that Jungkook couldn’t help but feel your excitement.

“What are you drinking?”

“Apple juice.” you raise the cup slightly. “I never had alcohol.”

“Never?” Jungkook raises a brow and whistles lowly. “You’re actually a good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to be drunk. Five shots to be exact. You were introduced to Jungkook’s friends, the majority of them already drunk and overly friendly. They were kind to you, speaking with you as if they’ve known you just as long as they’ve known Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t hide his laughter when it comes to you any longer. You’re loud - louder than he’s ever seen you be in the last month - and you appear happy. You let loose, no longer uptight and constantly checking to see if your mother is around the corner to scold you.

Ji-ah, a friend of Jungkook’s, wraps a hand around your wrist once she see’s you stumbling off. She’s tall with a slender build. Her hair is long and dyed a rose-gold color and you envied how confident she was upon meeting her.

“Where are you heading?” she asks. She’s drunk, but has enough liquor throughout the years to know how to function just fine.

“I have…to pee.” you sigh out and Ji-ah laughs.

“Follow me.” Ji-ah keeps your wrist in a firm hold. “I’ll transport you there safely.”

Ji-ah speaks as you’re peeing, her face in the mirror to check her makeup all the while you’re a few feet away. You met her tonight, as well, but she was comfortable enough to accompany you inside the large bathroom. She talks to you; so fast that you miss a few words - or sentences. But you’re just glad that you had to experience your first college party.

You’re washing your hands when Ji-ah asks you. “What do you think of Jungkook?”

Your mind is blurry and appearing to be in slow motion, yet fast paced.

“He’s cool.” you murmur to her, shaking your wet hands. “Hot.”

Your eyes widen dramatically at your words and at this, Ji-ah cackles. She’s seated on the bathroom counter and hops off of it to stand besides you.

“I won’t tell.” she winks and lifts her index finger to her lips. “Jungkook calls you good girl. Are you a virgin?”

Your cheeks redden but you shake your head.

“Ah,” Ji-ah moans. “You slut!”

You’re taken aback by her tone. Once more, Ji-ah cackles. “I’m just kidding.” she assures. “You reach slut status when you’re on my level.”

You blink a few times. “What’s slut status?”

“Depends.” Ji-ah responds. “What have you done sexually?”

You feel like you’re under a microscope at Ji-ah’s intense stare. “Okay. How about this,” Ji-ah leans against the counter. “I’ll ask yes or no questions.”

You nod.

You haven’t done a lot, Ji-ah notes, and she’s astonished that she’s met someone that hasn’t. She notes that you had a boyfriend who you lost your virginity to back in high school, but the things you’ve done with him were limited.

“So you went down on him but he didn’t do the same?” Ji-ah hisses with a head shake. “This is why I’m a lesbian now.”

Ji-ah had heard you speak of your past sexual adventures and needless to say, there wasn’t any adventure. Or excitement.

“You need to live a little.” Ji-ah exclaims. “Luckily for you, you and I are going to be best friends.”

Your eyes widen at her words. You never had a best friend, as sad as it was.

“And I can teach you the in’s and out’s of sex.” Ji-ah places both hands on your shoulders.

Jungkook opened every door in sight, not bothering to apologize if someone was behind it enjoying their privacy. You were gone and he had not seen you for close to an hour. You were obviously drunk - and already being an inexperienced, shy and naive person, you were bound to be taken advantage of. You were exposed to this world and if anything happened to you, he’d be ridden with guilt.

Jungkook pushes open another door and sighs in relief before knitting his brows.

Ji-ah and you were both seated on the floor of the large bathroom, lips placed upon one another.

“Are you two making out?” Jungkook asks, genuinely questioning. He didn’t know you were into women, yet Ji-ah also had a habit of having women in her grasp that never went that way.

You turn several shades of red and Ji-ah only giggles.

“I was teaching Y/N how to kiss.” Ji-ah declares. “Can you believe such a hot piece of ass has never had a good sexual experience?”

“J-Ji-ah!” you hiss. You were already embarrassed upon having Jungkook find you in such a position. You were positive that he thought you were nothing but a loser that hasn’t experienced the basic life like they had.

Jungkook flickers his eyes between you and Ji-ah. He was glad you’re okay and not (seemingly) taken advantage of. You were safe with Ji-ah and now he and you could go home before your mother found out.

“Good girl.” Jungkook places a hand for you to take. “Let’s go home before mother dearest comes searching for you.”

Ji-ah frowns.

“You have hundreds of girls here to kiss, Ji.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once he helps you up from the bathroom floor.

“I was just helping out your sister.” Ji-ah scoffs. “You men could never satisfy a woman like a woman can.”

You wish Ji-ah would shut up. Jungkook didn’t need to know anything else about your sex life - or lack of.

Jungkook snickers at Ji-ah, but he turns and takes a step out the door. “Step-sister.” was all he responded to her.

You and Jungkook stumble through the door. Your mother was asleep still and that was good - not like she would have noticed. She occupied the opposite end of the estate and you and she didn’t speak unless it was necessary. Still, your anxiety of her finding out lingered on your sober mind and only when you began to drink was when you felt safe.

Jungkook opens up the freezer and takes out a large tub of ice cream. He grasps two spoons from the cupboard and makes his way towards you. Opening it, he doesn’t hesitate in digging his spoon in and downing it.

“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asks after the third scoff of ice-cream.

You nod your head, humming when the cold sweet reaches your throat. “It was so much fun. I don’t really remember it all.” you scoff. It hasn’t even been a day yet and your mind is already hazy.

Jungkook chuckles. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ji-ah and her words. You didn’t look like the type to have sexual adventures - not like Ji-ah at least. But now he finds himself wondering what you did experience - he cannot imagine seeing you in such a way. You, a shy girl who blushes at everything and has to ask mother dearest for permission for nearly everything.

“What would mother dearest think if she found out you snuck out?”

“She’d kill me.” you respond without missing a beat. Of course not literally, but her wrath would be insane. It would bring out her disappointment in you and that’s not what you desired to experience.

“I see.” Jungkook places the spoon of ice cream in his mouth and swallows. “What if I told her?”

You freeze in your spot, eyes slowly lifting to Jungkook.

Your breath hitches.

“What?” you murmur.

“What if I told her you snuck out and got drunk?” Jungkook questions, voice deep and serious. You feel your heart beat outside your chest.

“Why would you?”

You were beginning to think that Jungkook and you could form a friendship. That the two of you could be close as he and his friends were, that maybe even his friends would soon be yours.

But that’s not what Jungkook wanted - that was never his intention.

Was his intentions were to trick you into sneaking out so he could blackmail you? To publicly embarrass you to your mother to see what she would do to you.

“I won’t tell your mother. But you’d be indebted to me.” Jungkook eats the sweet without hesitation. “And all debts must be paid in full.” says Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.

Of course, Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. He wouldn’t take advantage of you in the slightest - but he wanted you to live. He wanted to see the same woman he saw last night; the woman who laughed and danced without looking over her shoulders.

Jungkook also had no plans on telling your mother anything, but in order to see the you he saw a few hours prior, he would hold this “debt” over your head.

You inhale, dropping your spoon. Was Jungkook blackmailing you?

“I-I-”

”I want you to have fun and be a normal young adult. Come to more parties with me. Hang out with my friends and I. Stand up to mother dearest.” Jungkook explains. He didn’t need you thinking he wanted you to offer yourself to him in exchange for loyalty. “Live your own life the way you want to and not the way she does.”

You cross your arms, ears ringing as they replayed his words over and over again.

You enjoyed your time at the party. Jungkook’s friends were good people and Ji-ah appeared genuine and true to herself. For the first time, you felt content with going somewhere not having to mingle and social climb - to just be yourself and have fun.

“What do you say, good girl?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I know you had fun tonight. There’s always something to do.”

You slowly exhaled the breath you were holding. Jungkook’s words were convincing and he didn’t seem to be a bad person.

You nod your head in agreement and it causes Jungkook to smile. He nods his head. “Good. Starting first thing tomorrow.” he drops his spoon and claps his hand. “You should drink some water and get some rest. You might have a hang-over tomorrow.”

A hangover was correct. You woke up with your head pounding. Details of the night before replay in your head - the little you remembered. You decided that a hot shower would have to do the trick before you swallowed any medication. You were a mess, dried up saliva on your cheeks and your eyes were puffy. Your hair was a mess, appearing more like a bird's nest than anything.

The water was hot against your skin and it was exactly what you needed. Steam surrounds the bathroom and you begin to hum low to yourself as you lather your skin with body wash.

“Good girl.”

You yelp loudly at the words. Your eyes open to find Jungkook outside the shower - a standing shower with see-through doors. You go to hide your body, but there isn’t much to hide without a towel or curtain.

Jungkook is shirtless, arms crossed over his bare chest as his eyes rake your body.

“J-J-”

Jungkook makes his way closer to you and you feel yourself ready to die. He opens the door to the shower and pushes himself inside. He takes off the sweats he wore along with his underwear and throws them aside.

You push yourself away from him, your back hitting the cold stonewall of the shower.

“You’re such a beautiful, good girl.” Jungkook’s words murmur. He comes closer, his body getting just as wet as yours. “Such an innocent girl. Tell me, are Ji-ah’s words true?”

Jungkook’s hands reach out to you. He places both of them onto your shoulders, his chest against yours. He’s close, so close that you could feel the vibrations of his chest inhaling and exhaling.

“I…” your throat tightens at the closeness.

“Have you ever had an orgasm, good girl?” Jungkook asks you. “Has a man ever made you cum so hard you screamed and begged them to stop?”

Jungkook’s words are dirty. You feel hot being so close to the naked man. Jungkook’s hands begin to travel down, engulfing your bare breast. His thumbs play with your nipples as his palms grope them.

“Such lovely nipples.” Jungkook hums. “You have such a slutty body. Good girls like you always have the sluttiest bodies.”

Jungkook brings a nipple into his mouth and sucks. You moan out, the feeling of his teeth tugging at your nipple sends shockwaves through your body.

Jungkook is moaning now. His left hand lowers to between your legs, feeling your throbbing clit. He rubs at it at an alarming pace, but you don’t tell him to stop. You never felt a sensation like this before, you swear you can explode.

“Good girl.” Jungkook hisses, his fingers rubbing your clit harder. “My good girl. Say it.”

“Your good girl.” you moan out, eyes snapping close at the feeling.

“Good girl.”

Good girl.

“Good girl!”

You snap your eyes open, jolting out of your slumber.

Jungkook’s eyes are wider at the sudden outburst.

Your throat is dry, your head is pounding and you feel a sticky feeling between your legs.

Jungkook is holding a glass of water in his hands and a bottle of medication in another. He places them down on your nightstand.

“I tried knocking to wake you.” Jungkook says. “But you weren’t awake. You were tossing and turning when I walked in.”

You cough.

DId Jungkook hear you and your wet dream of him?

You felt sick to your stomach. You were a slut - an idiot slut to have such a dream of a man you barely know. Your soon to be step-brother at that.

“Thank you.” you murmur quietly to Jungkook. You take the water in your hands, trembling with nervousness.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions. “Did you have a bad dream?”

You wanted to laugh. Your dream was a bad one - as bad as a wet dream can be.

“Something like that.” you say after you take the pills. “I feel like I've been ran over by a truck.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Hangovers are always like that.” he places a hand on your forehead and you freeze. “Breakfast should cure your hangover. Ji-ah is coming over, too.”

Ji-ah. You remember the tall beauty of a friend Jungkook had.

“Maybe you and her can make out again.” Jungkook teases.

You widen your eyes in horror.

“Kidding!” Jungkook laughs, eyes squinting as he does so. “I’ll let you freshen up for breakfast.”

Jungkook makes his way out of your bedroom, but he stops at the doorway. “You sure you’re okay, good girl?” he asks you.

You nod your head, trying to smile for reassurance but you’re sure it came out more of a grimace.

Jungkook nods his head back at you before walking out of your room and closing the door behind him. He would pretend - for your sake - to not know that you were moaning in your sleep, calling yourself his good girl.

Ji-ah lifts up a shirt to show you. “This is cute.” she says and you nod.

Two months had passed since your mother and you had moved in with Joon-sik and Jungkook. You had come out of your shell more when it came to Jook-sik. He was different from your mother’s last partners. He engaged more in your and Jungkook’s lives. He assured that there was a family dinner at least once a week where he’d often asked questions.

Ji-ah and you had become closer and you saw her nearly everyday after meeting her at the party. She would come over most nights and the two of you would talk and laugh for hours until Jungkook would infiltrate the scene.

Jungkook and you had also become close as friends. Most mornings you would come out of your room and stroll down the hall to find Jungkook cooking in the large kitchen. He would have two plates - sometimes more if his friends would be attending - set down on the island. If you weren’t eating dinner with your parents, he would bring in take-out and the pair of you would binge watch whatever tv show was on.

You tried to keep your mind at bay when it came to Jungkook. You couldn’t control your dreams, and the wet dream you had two months prior wasn’t the only one. It disgusts you each time you wake up sweating with the familiar wetness between your legs. Jungkook was attractive, of course, and that frightens you. There were too many times in which Jungkook would walk around without a shirt and it takes everything in you to not stare too long.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Ji-ah waves a hand in front of your face. “You’re spacing out.”

You blink a few times. Ji-ah has a handful of clothes in her arms - dresses, shirts with graphic designs and some crop tops and even the shortest shorts and skirts you’ve ever seen.

“Try these on.” Ji-ah pushes the clothing into your arms.

“I thought these were for you?” you exclaim.

Ji-ah shrugs. “We need to change up your wardrobe, Y/N. You promised.”

You sigh. You did promise that Ji-ah could add a few pieces to your wardrobe, but the amount of clothes she threw into your arms were more than a few pieces.

You and Ji-ah are the only two in the dressing room. You try on a few pieces, all in which Ji-ah forced you to do a walk and turn so she could see it fully.

You were growing exhausted after 30 minutes of trying clothes on. You took a seat inside the dressing room to take a quick break.

Jungkook takes a seat besides Ji-ah who’s gently tapping her foot waiting for you to come out.

“Jimin went to grab our tickets.” Jungkook says. “Are you two still shopping?”

Ji-ah nods. Her stomach churns and she stops tapping her foot to rub her stomach. “Shopping always makes me hungry.”

Jungkook snorts. “Tae’s at the food court. If you go now you’ll make it before he leaves the line.”

Ji-ah's eyes widen and within seconds she’s strutting out of the fitting room and out of the clothing store.

The door opens and Jungkook's eyes trail up to greet you.

“I think this skirt is too short.”

Jungkook hums, you have not noticed him yet. Your eyes were in the mirror. You wore a skirt - a short fitted skirt that hugs your body. Your shirt was just as tight fitted with a deep v-neck cut.

“What do you think about-”

You turn and freeze seeing Jungkook behind you where Ji-ah should be.

“I think it’s nice.” Jungkook responds. “Are you getting it?”

You feel small under Jungkook’s gaze.

“I-I’m not sure.” you respond. “It’s too…”

“Tight?” Jungkook snorts. “Mother dearest wouldn’t approve. More reason to get it.”

Jungkook stands from the chair in the fitted room.

“I don’t think I have anywhere to wear the clothes Ji-ah gave me to try on.” you admit with a short laugh.

Jungkook tilts his head. “I wasn’t going to go,” he begins. “But there’s a group performing at a club. You can wear it there.”

You widen your eyes slightly. “I never-”

“Been to a club.” Jungkook finishes your sentence. “Good girls don’t go to clubs.” he teases.

You rolled your eyes but you were offended.

“I guess I can go.” you say. “Are you sure it isn’t…to much?”

You didn’t want to be an odd one out. You weren’t one to show the amount of skin, and though your mind told you that you looked hot, you still felt conscious.

You turn to look back into the mirror.

“You women do that a lot. You over analyze everything until you no longer think you look good.”

Jungkook is behind you now. Your eyes connect with his in the mirror.

“Do you think you look good?” Jungkook questions.

You nod slightly.

“Say it.” Jungkook quips. “Gain that confidence. Say “I look good.”

“I look good.” you repeat robotically and Jungkook shakes his head.

“Say it like you mean it!”

“I look good.” you repeat, a little louder.

“Good. How good do you look?”

You inhale deeply before exhaling.

“I look…”

Jungkook waits for your response.

“...hot?”

“Is that a question?”

“I look hot!”

You do, Jungkook notes, but he doesn’t want to have his eyes linger on your breast in the reflection.

Jungkook's lips twitch in amusement. “That’s it.” he nods. “That’s my good girl.”

Those words cause you to freeze once more. Your eyes connect to Jungkook’s through the mirror. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you, but the both of you know the power of his words.

You gulp, flashbacks of the wet dream of you and Jungkook in the shower.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench at his words, but he’s unsure what he’s doing. He didn't forget you the following morning when he came into your room. You were a moaning mess, hair disheveled and voice low and raspy. “I’m your good girl.” replays in his mind over and over again that day - so much so that he had to pump his cock in the shower to just get his cock to deflate.

Ji-ah enters the fitting room loudly, munching on a large pretzel.

Jungkook and you push away from one another.

Ji-ah watches with a raised brow as neither of you say anything. You enter the fitting room and Jungkook excuses himself.

Ji-ah’s mind wanders and slowly, a smirk forms onto her lips, ideas flashing into her mind.

Jungkook downs the shot effortlessly, eyes wandering to the club entrance. You and Ji-ah had yet to arrive and the majority of the group was already tipsy. The music is loud and the lights are flashing non-stop. He sits at the bar with Namjoon and Hoseok, both men chatting amongst the group.

“Waiting for someone?”

The voice belongs to Taehyung that is shouting over the loud music. He leans against the bar, eyes following Jungkook’s line of vision. “Maybe that sister of yours?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Step-sister.”

Taehyung scoffs. “You say that a lot.” he notes. “Would it be weird if you did call her your sister?”

Yes, it would be- because Jungkook doesn’t constantly think about any of his family members like he does with you. You being his sister would mean he couldn’t jack off to the thought of you calling yourself his good girl anymore - no matter how creepy it sounded; because technically, you were asleep. His eyes couldn’t linger on the way you’d lick your lips or the slight way your breast would bounce when you’d laugh.

Damn, Jungkook was a creep. But it was only justified (slightly) because he doesn't consider you his sister.

“I met her three months ago.” Jungkook shrugs.

“True. But Y/N is always around.” Taehyung adds. “You two hit it off quickly.”

Jungkook agrees. You were slowly coming out of your shell and made friends with his friends. Ji-ah and you were growing closer by the day and he was thankful that you didn’t shut down completely with her outgoing personality.

But, that’s all you and Jungkook could be - friends. He couldn’t allow his desires and intrusive thoughts to take advantage of your shyness and naivety.

“So you don’t think of her as a sister?” Taehyung leans closer to Jungkook. “So it would be okay for me to…dance with her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes glance at Taehyung's face that’s illuminating in the light. His eyebrows are raised, waiting for an answer.

Jungkook lowly hums to himself. Was Taehyung interested in you? Were you interested in Taehyung? Did Taehyung ever make advances on you before?

“Are you asking for my permission?” Jungkook questions. “Y/N is her own person.”

Taehyung nods. “She is. But she is also someone who you introduced to us in the guise of her being your sister.”

“Step-sister.” Jungkook murmurs.

“Yes.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “So as your friend and she as your step-sister. Would you be alright if I danced with her?”

Jungkook wanted to say no. That you were far too innocent for the likes of a Taehyung - someone who had girls in his bedroom nearly every night and never settled for a relationship. But that would make him a hypocrite. He also brought home women from time to time and rarely thought of seeing any of them as more than a simple fuck.

“Do as you please.” Jungkook shrugs and Taehyung offers him a boxy smile.

“I’m going to talk to her now.” Taehyung points towards the door and Jungkook's throat tightens. He instantly regrets his decision to be nonchalant.

Ji-ah and you had just gotten through the door. You sported a short tight dress, stropping at your thighs. It was black as were the heels you were wearing that tied perfectly up your calf. Your hair was in a ponytail, brushed back so smooth that no flyaway would be present.

Jungkook feels his heart tighten when your eyes catch him and soon you’re strutting over to him.

You don’t make it. Taehyung has gotten to you first.

“What do you think?”

“Huh?”

Ji-ah has taken a seat beside Jungkook and had been for the last ten minutes. She watched as Jungkook seethed as he stared at a laughing Taehyung who tried to get you to dance with him.

“Does she look hot?” Ji-ah wiggles her eyebrows. “Took me almost an hour to get her into that dress.”

Jungkook looks away from you. “Good. I guess.”

Ji-ah sighs. “It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to her.”

Jungkook’s head snaps to Ji-ah. “Who-”

“I’m not an idiot.” Ji-ah interrupts with a wave of her hand. “The sexual tension between the two of you are killing me. I say fuck and get it over with.”

Ji-ah was always blunt.

“You’re insane.” Jungkook hisses.

“You’re insane for letting Taehyung beat you to it.” Ji-ah retorts. “But what do I know?”

Jungkook bites his lip. What did Ji-ah know? You surely talked to her about your former sex life. Have you talked to her about him? Did you have the same intrusive thoughts as he did?

“What do you know?” Jungkook caves and Ji-ah smirks.

“I know enough.” Ji-ah shrugs.

Jungkook seethes.

“I know our little good girl thinks you’re hot.”

Jungkooks eyes widened.

“But she’s far too afraid to act on her attraction.” Ji-ah groans. “I’m sure she thinks it’s taboo.”

Jungkook swallows. You thought he was hot - that was a start.

“That’s all you’re getting from me. Girl code.” Ji-ah stands from her bar stool. “Jimin and Taehyung are coming. Jimin’s fucked. I’m not going to be on babysitting duty.”

Jungkook groans as a drunk Jimin sits beside him, slurring his words.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Taehyung questions, a look of sorrow on his face. Taehyung was put to be the “sober” one of the group tonight. Jimin was already drunk and Hoseok was close behind him. “I’m taking him home and coming back.” he curses beneath his breath at his unlucky night.

But for Jungkook, this was his lucky night. Taehyung was gone and now you wouldn’t be another one of the women who he brought into his bedroom.

“Good girl.” your ears catch the voice instantly, even with the loud music. “I’m glad to see you’ve made it.”

Jungkook is behind you when you turn. You smile and nod your head. “Where has everyone gone?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Jimin is done for the night and Hoseok is on his way there.” he snorts. “Ji-ah is probably looking for someone to makeout with as we speak.”

Jungkook comes closer to wrap and arm around your shoulders. “Shot?”

Ji-ah claps her hands together, Taehyung and Jimin huddled in the corner with her. “Okay, the first part of the plan is in motion.”

Jimin nods as does Taehyung.

“I’m not really sure what the plan is.” Jimin adds. All he recalls is Ji-ah texting him to act drunk and he’s done that part thus far.

“Ugh, you didn’t fill him in?!” Ji-ah snaps at Taehyung.

“I thought you were doing that!” Taehyung snaps back. “This was your plan after all.”

Ji-ah sighs in frustration. It was her plan - to get you and Jungkook to hook up. If anything else blossomed after that - like a relationship or even a “friends with benefit” (or step-siblings with benefits) - then it’d be a win-win for the both of you. Jungkook was attracted to you, even if he would never admit it aloud. You had already admitted your attraction towards Jungkook, but your shyness and obliviousness would get you nowhere without her help.

“She’s trying to get Kook and Y/N to fuck.” Taehyung explains vulgarly. Jimin widens his eyes. “Oh.” he hums. “Is that why he was giving you death eyes earlier?”

Taehyung nods with a cackle.

“Idiots to lovers.” Ji-ah shrugs her shoulders. “They’ll never get there without my help, of course.”

“Are you sure we’re not just interfering?” Jimin questions. “I mean, they are step-siblings who have to see their parents in a relationship.”

Ji-ah shrugs. “They aren’t related nor were they raised together as brother and sister. I say they fuck and get it out of their systems.”

Jimin nods in agreement.

“What’s the other part of the plan?”

Plan B - get both parties tipsy - not drunk. You were looser when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. You danced freely like no one was watching and you were more social. Jungkook was already there but you needed to match his cool.

Ji-ah poured you two shots after shots until she noticed your flushed cheeks and uncontrollable laughter. That was her cue to disappear again into the corner of the room with Taehyung and Jimin.

“I think Hobi and Joon are actually drunk.” Jimin notes, eyes flickering to the dance floor where both men were dancing - Namjoon appearing more disorientated.

“Shit.” Taehyung hisses. “I’m on sober duty.”

“Plan B is in fruition!” Ji-ah cheers. “We can leave them be. If anything happens tonight I can pry it out of Y/N tomorrow.”

“So that’s it?” Jimin ponders aloud.

“Yes. We let them do them for now.” Ji-ah takes her phone out of her crossbody purse. “I’m telling them we’re leaving to take the drunklings home. The rest is up to them.”

“I hope they’ll be okay.” you say to Jungkook after receiving the message from Ji-ah.

“They do this all the time. Get drunk and act a fool.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry if this isn’t the night you expected.”

You shake your head. “I’m having fun!” you declare. Your eyes wander to the sea of people dancing without a care.

“You should go dance.” Jungkook says. “No one is going to be watching you like your mind tells you.”

You don’t feel nervous as you once were. Your body is hot thanks to the alcohol in your system and your mind is repeating Jungkook’s words.

“Dance with me.” you say, getting up from the stool and making your way towards the dance floor.

Jungkook follows you. The flashing lights illuminate your skin and he finds it difficult to take his eyes away from you. The music is energetic and it’s easy for you to follow the floor of everyone else's dance moves.

It was fun, you note, dancing with Jungkook. The both of you laughed as you nearly tripped on your heels and he had to catch you swiftly. You would take your hands in his and bring him closer, especially when the area became stuffed with even more people - all dancing carefree.

You’re close to Jungkook, so close that you can smell his cologne mixed with another smell.

“You smoke?” you shout at him and Jungkook nods hesitantly.

Jungkook had smoked before he came alongside Taehyung.

“Have you ever smoked?” Jungkook leans down to say into your ears, but he knows the answer. Mother dearest would never allow you to smoke.

You shake your head and suddenly, Jungkook’s mind wanders. “Do you want to try?”

You watch with curious eyes as Jungkook rolls the greenish purple substance onto the small paper. You and he sit on his bed as he does so. The club was long forgotten about and there wasn’t a need to stay when you were offered to smoke - it felt scandalous in a way.

Jungkook brings out a lighter and passes you what he had just rolled. “You can try first.” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

You’re nervous, palms sweaty and heart pounding with excitement. Jungkook places the joint between your lips and lights it. “Inhale.”

You do as you’re told, and suddenly you’re a coughing mess.

Jungkook cackles. “First time is rough for everyone.” he assures.

Your throat burns and it’s difficult to stop yourself from coughing. Luckily, Jungkook was preparing for this. He recalls his first time smoking and how he was sure he was going to die.

Jungkook hands you a water bottle that sat on his bedside table. You down the water hastily, moaning in satisfaction as it heals your throat.

“Better?”

You nod, but your throat burns still. But you’re glad Jungkook allows you to smoke with him. You watch as Jungkook smokes, inhaling the smoke and exhaling it with ease - no coughing or choking like you had. You wonder just how long he’s been smoking for but you don’t ask.

“Want to try again?” Jungkook passes you the joint, raising his eyebrows. “This time try not to inhale so hard.”

You do as you’re told and you’re surprised to find that you do not end up coughing as hard as you had.

Jungkook and you take turns smoking until the joint is gone. You lay beside him on his bed, feeling euphoric and free. Your anxiety is long gone and you remain relaxed. This feeling was not the feeling you thought being high was like - and you were certain you’d want to feel this way again.

The bed shifts and you’re finally remembering where you’re at. You turn on your side to face Jungkook, who had already turned to face you.

Jungkook studies your face. Your eyes are slightly red and low. You look tired and ready to sleep at any moment but your eyes blink constantly to not do so. You were having fun - even if it was just relaxing and not doing anything in particular.

“I’ll have to give you a new nickname.” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve corrupted your good girl image ever since we became friends.”

You giggle. “I can still be your good girl.” you say without a thought. It goes past you, but not Jungkook.

“My good girl.” Jungkook hums. He likes how it sounds, but he’ll blame his intoxication for now. “Tell me…”

You feel a hand upon your cheek and your eyes open slightly wider.

“Is what Ji-ah said true?”

You’re unsure which part Jungkook is speaking of. You’re said a lot to Ji-ah and only could imagine what she’s told him.

“That you’ve never had a good sexual experience?”

You mentally curse at Ji-ah. You almost forgot that she had told him at Taehyung’s party.

You slowly nod your head. There wasn’t a point in denying it. It had to be obvious - hell you never touched a drink until recently. How would you know how to pleasure a man the correct way or had a great sexual experience?

Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He’s silent for a few moments, possibly pondering on his next statement.

“Has anyone ever touched you?”

You release a shaky breath. You want to pinch yourself to see if this was another dream, but you’re positive that you have not fallen asleep.

You shake your head.

Jungkook halts outlining your lips with his thumb.

“So you don’t know what cumming feels like.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Ashame.”

You and Jungkook are close - so close that you can hear him breathing.

“Have you ever made someone cum?”

Jungkook likes you like this. You aren’t shying away from him in embarrassment.

“Of course.”

You lick your lips. You’re unsure where the two of you were going with this. This isn’t a conversation you should be having with him, but it’s as though you’re paralyzed.

“How’d you do it?”

Jungkook leans closer. “I could show you.”

You gasp lightly. The room is completely silent and still. Jungkook and you are even closer, nose touching as you and he speak.

“Push me away.” Jungkook commands suddenly. “If you’re uncomfortable…push me away.”

Jungkook wasn’t sober, but he was coherent enough to know right from wrong. You were clearly under the influence more than him and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though he was taking advantage of you.

Your hand clenches Jungkook's shirt and you push your lips upon his. It causes Jungkook to flinch as if you burn him, but he doesn’t dwell on his shock. He deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He can taste a bit of alcohol on you, but he doesn’t mind.

The kiss becomes hotter - more dominant. Your tongue dances along his and you can say you feel content. This feeling was euphoric and unreal - a feeling you never wish to end.

“Let me make you cum.” Jungkook heaves when the kiss is broken. His tone is needy - he was begging you. He wanted to feel you, to taste you. He desired to watch you cum undone because of him - for your first time.

“O-Okay.” you agree.

Jungkook and you continue to kiss. His hands trail lower and lower until they reach the hem of your dress. Your dress is already dangerously short so it doesn’t take him long to reach his hand upward inside your dress and feel the cotton underwear you wore.

“My good girl’s already wet.” Jungkook breaks the kiss to moan into your ear. Your underwear was soaked through and he hadn’t gotten the chance to touch you the way he wanted yet.

Jungkook rubs his fingers against your clothed clit. He needed you to be comfortable first.

You moan, buckling your hips against his fingers. You bite your lip just as Jungkook trails kisses along your neck.

“I’m going to make you cum.” Jungkook nibbles into your neck, biting and sucking gently on the skin.

You feel Jungkook’s fingers dip into your underwear. He moans along with you when he touches your wet clit - how could you be this wet already? He shivers. The thought of you being this wet excites him. He ponders how it would feel if his cock rubbed against your bare pussy - how it’d feel if he fucked you into oblivion.

Jungkook’s fingers stroked your clit. He was becoming rougher with how he handled you. His free hand yanks your dress down so that a breast could fly it. He catches a nipple into his mouth, suckling on it like a madman. He had a desire to do so since you strolled into the club with such slutty attire.

You arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook showed your nipple no mercy, nor did he show any to your clit. He rubbed at a ferocious pace and sucked and nibbled on your breast. The scene before you felt dirty and taboo - but you didn’t want him to stop. You had never felt so great in your life.

“I’m going to fuck my good girl with my fingers.” Jungkook grunts, fingers already dipping inside of you. “You’re so wet that they fall easily inside.”

Jungkook’s dirty words mixed with his deep voice is music to your ears.

Jungkook pumps his fingers inside of you. Your pussy squelches as he does so, but he doesn’t mind. The only thing on his mind right now is getting you to cum all over him.

“How does my good girl feel?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper.

“I…I feel good.” you moan out. Your stomach feels tight and you feel as if you’re about to explode. “I feel something coming.”

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re about to cum.” he says to you. “Let go. Cum all over me, good girl.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You’re breathing heavily and Jungkook shows no signs of stopping until you’re cumming.

You do, a gush of liquid squirting out and onto Jungkook’s wrist and bed. You’re jolting, cursing lowly under your breath all the while attempting to catch your breath.

Jungkook revels in the sight of you squirting all over him. You were truly a beautiful sight - so innocent and new to this life. He wants to make you cum over and over again - but there will always be a next time.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and brings them into his mouth. He licks them and sighs, wishing he could sink his cock into you right now.

“Let’s go to sleep.” you hear Jungkook say. “My good girl looks tired after cumming so hard.” he teases but you don’t have it in you to deny the slumber that consumes you.

#btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #step siblings au #bts step sibling #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #bts writing #trivia-yandere #paid in full #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook fic #jungkook step brother

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sarawritestories · 5 months

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I Wanna Be Yours Chapter 1

Xaden Riorson X Lydia Aetos

Summary: Lydia Aetos Longs to be a Ballerina, her father has other plans, and has conscripted her to the rider's quadrant with her childhood friend Violet. Reuniting with her brother he only gives her two orders. Do not bring up wanting to dance and stay far away from Xaden Riorson. Both of his orders go ignored.

Content Warning: Violence.

A/N: Here is the first chapter I hope you all Enjoy! 🩰

Word Count: 4.9K

If you want to Read on AO3 click Here

I Wanna Be Yours Masterlist

Ashes. I’m watching my pointe shoes turn into ashes. I can’t help the tears that roll down my face. “Maybe now you will understand that no child of mine will be a performer in a traveling freakshow. My children are riders; they will serve their country with pride.” My Father’s voice grates against my skin as I watch the one thing I treasure most burn my dreams with it. “Come, Lydia, it’s almost time to go.” My legs refuse to move, as the pop of the wood makes me jump.

Hearing Colonel Aetos sigh grates my skin, he’s sending me to my death, with a first-born son like Dain, he didn’t need a second child. Correction he didn’t want one. Yet here I sit to his dismay. His feet move quickly as he places his hand in a vice-like grip around my arm; yanking me from the hearth, I writhe in his grasp as he pulls me away as I see what is left of the pink silk turn black. “That’s enough, Lydia.” He pins me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send a message, “You are going to cross that parapet, and join your brother, you are going to become a rider. Do you understand me?”

I school my face into something soft as if my life isn’t being turned upside down, swallowing the tears. “Yes, Colonel,” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, but my mother’s and my father realizes it too as his complexion pales slightly.

Regaining his composure, “Get dressed, back your rucksack and let’s go we are supposed to be in General Sorrengail’s office in 10 minutes.” I jerk out of his grasp and head to my room, trying to even out my breathing. As miserable as it sounds, I’m glad I will have Violet. The two of us have been inseparable for our entire lives. We are both being forced into the Rider’s quadrant today, at the hands of our parents. I tuck my hand under my mattress and pull out a piece of paper. I sit on the edge of my bed and re-read words I have memorized at this point.

My Dearest Lydia,

My little twinkle toes. I’m so sorry, I had to leave. The life your father leads can feel like a cage. I’m suffocating, little one. I cannot be controlled or maintained like a rabid beast. I’m sorry, I know what this means for you, what your father will make you do when you turn twenty. Just know that not a day goes by when I won’t feel guilty for putting you in that cage to take my place. Just know that I love you and if you get anything from this letter. Don’t stop dancing. Whatever you do, continue dancing through this life. Let dance be your escape from the cruelty Basgiath has to offer. I hope one day we will be reunited, and you will have found a way to break out of the chains that hold you in Navarre.

I love you more than you know,

Mom

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every time I read the letter of my heartaches; she knew that the father would force me into the Rider’s quadrant. Why couldn’t she take me with her? Couldn’t we both be free? Why couldn’t she have stayed just long enough for me to find a way for me to pursue my dream? Anger bubbles up in my core, why was she so selfish to fucking leave me here, knowing that I would be sharing the same feelings she had.

Not wanting to keep The Colonel waiting I put on a black, long-sleeved shirt and tightly fitted leather pants from an old riders uniform my father found. I fold the note into a small square and tuck it into my boot, not wanting to risk him finding it. Grabbing my bag, I step out of my room that has been my home for seventeen years of my life and meet my father. As we begin to walk, I shut my eyes and I allow myself one more moment to mourn over the dream I will never be able to fulfill.

Violet and I stare up at the tower familiar with the trek we will have to make to reach the parapet, the first trial we will receive before ever becoming a cadet. Violet takes my hand, “At least we have each other.”

I give her hand a comforting squeeze as we move up the line. “Name,” The lady calls out not bothering to look up from the parchment. Violet moves to talk to the older gentleman as I heave a sigh.

“Lydia Aetos.”

The woman blinks after scribbling down my name and looks up to meet my eyes and I notice the flinch she gives when she notices that they are two different colors. “Are you related to Colonel Aetos?”

I nod my head, “He is my father.” I see Violet is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, “I turn and look at her. “Have a nice day,” I give her the best smile I can, which in turn might be a grimace as I move to meet my friend.

She is conversing with a taller girl, with dark skin and her hair had been pulled back in small rows of braids. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement as I came closer. The woman paused and tilted her head at me. “Hello,” I give a small wave, shifting under the weight of her gaze.

“Your eyes.” She begins and my mind starts filling in the gaps with words my father has used in the past.

Ugly.

Disgusting.

Defective.

“Beautiful.” The word shakes me out of my spiral of negativity.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked.

“You’re eyes, they’re beautiful. I have read that some are born with two different colored eyes, but to see the beauty of it in person.” She holds out her hand, “Rhiannon Matthias.”

“Lydia Aetos.” Taking her hand and shaking it a genuine smile creeping up on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m General Melgren, now move. We don’t have all day.” A man’s voice quips behind us. I turn to find piercing blue eyes and a full head of blond hair; he is wearing a scowl that contorts his face into something heinous. He gives me a playful wink, that makes my stomach churn, “Let’s go, Princess.”

Not bothering to give him a response, I turned back to my friend and new acquaintance. The three of us begin our ascent up the stairs. The smaller man in front of us- Dylan- keeps babbling about how excited he is to be in the Rider’s quadrant. As he and Rhinannon discuss their dreams and goals, I let my mind wander.

Twirling across the stage, each pirouette clean and precise just as Seraphina has taught me. My tulle skirts billowing around me like a shield. I don’t need to remember the next move, the music seeps into my bones and as if in response my body knows what to do next. I grin as the warmth of all the mage lights, illuminating the stage, kisses my skin. Twirling into a solid form, Large tan hands grip my waist as my partner steps in time with the beat.

We move as one as he spins hoisting me up in the air. I am certain my toes are pointed, and my arms are sharp in an elegant pose. I feel myself being lowered and looked at my partners face, familiar hazel eyes and a toothy grin in plain view, twirling me once more to the crescendo of the music and when my twirls end, He dips me low, my one leg stretched out in between his, the other bent my foot tucked behind my knee cap. His forehead presses mind as my arms move around his neck in time with the end notes of the music. My eyes close as the smell of Cinnamon, Vanilla waft my nose, as the thunderous applause ruptures through the theater. Lips press against mine and I can’t help the giggle that erupts from my throat.

“Lydia.” His warm voice calls for me.

“Lydia. Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Violet shouts giving me a shove, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look to see that Rhiannon and Dylan are giving me looks of concern. I pressed my hand to my cheek to find them wet with tears. Shit. Violet’s eyes held worry and an undertone of understanding. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” She whispers low enough only I can hear, as our hike up the concrete steps was nearing a close as the daylight was beginning to peak through.

“Yeah. I guess I’m missing everyone a little more today.” It’s a severe understatement that I’m making but Violet has her own things to worry about, no need to add more to her plate.

Violet, Dain, and I grew up together, she is basically my sister in all forms of the word. We have been inseparable, even more so when Brennan died and Dain left last year for the Rider’s quadrant, me, and her against the world we always teased. I never felt that more now, she gripped my hand in hers and gives me a squeeze as if she is thinking the same thing. “Thank you for always being there when I need, you Vi.”

Violet snorted, causing Rhinannon to turn and smirk, I look down at her feet briefly and notice the woman has one of Violet’s shoes and Violet in turn has one of her slippers on her feet. When did they do that? Violet’s voice causes me to face her, “You sound like you’re going to die today.”

“I am pretty sure that was the plan.” I murmur as Dylan and Rhiannon reach the top of the stairs. “He wants me dead, Vi.”

“Too bad. You and I. We are not going to die today, Lydia.” Violet was the first to reach the open expanse of the turret. The breath of fresh air is welcome to the stench of sweat and body odor. The warmth of the sun kisses my skin, a large gust of wind whipping my hair across my face. Violet seeing this her eyes widen. “I almost forgot. In my bag there is a little gift from Mira.” I quickly open her bag and pull out a package with my name on it and a little note.

Hey Kid,

A little gift from your favorite sibling. Don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true!

Just something that can keep that crazy mane of yours up and to remind everyone not to mess with you.

Mira

Unwrapping package to reveal two long gold hair pins, little gold dragons at one end the pointed end sharp as knives. “I love your sister; did you know that?”

Violet laughs as I shut her bag and quickly put my hair in a tight bun. “You and me both.” There is a pause as we make our way closer to beginning. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dain.”

I roll my eyes, about to retort when a man’s voice, “You ready for the next one, Riorson.”

I pause my movements, my hands still in my hair, looking at the broad chest in front of me my eyes trail up and I am met with a set jaw and alluring onyx eyes, and in the light little gold flecks shine through. I roll my shoulders and drop my hands from my hair. His eyes graze my body and back up to my eyes and shiver down my spine. “Aetos, Sorrengail, you two, okay?” Pulling away from the man’s magnetic gaze, I meet Rhiannon’s stare. I dip my chin in silent confirmation.

“Sorrengail and Aetos?” The low rumble of Xaden Riorson voice pulls my attention back to him. This man is the definition of beauty, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, even with the scar cutting across his brow that drags down to the top of his cheek bone. His tan skin gleams with perspiration from the midday sun no doubt, and I catch a glimpse a tattoo on the side of his neck that disappears with the neckline of his shirt. The clearing of his throat makes me meet his eyes once more. There is a knowing smirk on his face, and he quirks an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

I remain silent and avert his stare. “You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” Violet’s voice sounds from behind me.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s Daughter.” He retorts, “Your mother had my father executed.”

I can feel Violet’s anger bubbling behind me. “Your father killed my brother I think that makes us even.”

Xaden snorts, “Hardly.” That perks my head up, to find his eyes were already on me. He tilts his head his eyes assessing me, like I’m a prize mare, “And you. I wasn’t aware that Dain Aetos had a little sister. He never talks about you.”

I bite my lip the only indication I give that his words bother me, “I can’t say. I’m surprised.”

Xaden takes a step forward and try to focus on the floor once more, “Why’s that, Kitten?” A finger hooks under my chin forcing me to meet his gaze and my heart rate quickens, out of fear or sheer arousal, I’m not sure.

One thing I do know: This man is dangerous. Yet I fall for his beautifully set trap and answer honestly, knowing I should not give him any of my weaknesses, “No one likes talking about the disappointment in the family.” For extra measure I take a step back, away from his touch and he lets me, dropping his hand.

“Hurry it up. Some of us are becoming riders today.” The ass hole from before speaks, his words grating my skin. A distant scream comes from the death trap in front of me. When looking over to the parapet I no longer see Dylan and my heart sinks. Rhiannon is still moving, and Violet begins to walk across dark storm clouds rolling in followed by a rumble of thunder. Fucking. Wonderful.

Xaden chuckles and I meet his stare, “Good luck, Kitten.” He gestures for me to the entry point of the parapet.

I glare at him, flaring my nostrils, “My name is Lydia.”

He smirks, “I think my name suits you better.”

I don’t know how the dagger got in my hand but the minute I throw it, the steel passing about 3 people before it hits its mark. The dagger sinks into the crack of the concrete a half an inch from the jack ass who has been making smart ass comments all morning’s shoes. Looking back at those gold flecked onyx eyes I give him a wink, “I think you’ll find, it doesn’t.”

The guy next Xaden laughed, “Looks like the kitten has claws. I hope you make it, Aetos,” He nods his head and I begin to walk. The drop of rain pelts my skin the moment I take my first step. When I take the next few steps, the sky opens as rain cascades down. I can hear Seraphina’s instructions in my ears.

Arms out, straighten that back. Get into second position.

I straighten my posture and extend my arms out, placing my feet outwardly giving myself the optimal balance and proceed to move. I focus on Violet’s pack in front of me as I keep moving. I imagine myself on stage, the music once again whisking me away. The low rumble of drums meets the contrasting sounds of the piccolo and various string instruments to create a melody that makes my movements lighter. I trust in my training, my balance, the music that for years kept me rooted. The music drowns out the sound of the rain colliding against the brick. My mind transforms the stage into a whimsical forest, and I am balancing on a fallen tree trunk to reach for my lover on the other side. His smile warm as the lights pressing against my skin. I’m not in old leather, I’m in a white gown with billowing layers that makes it easier to move in when I dance.

I twirl my feet finding purchase on the log once I complete the spin with flawless precision. A smile emerges on my face as I gear up for my flip the finishing move, I need to do before reaching the halfway point to him. I run and leap, my legs flipping over my head with the elegance of a gazelle. Landing with a pointed toe and my arms reaching for the sky my balance slips slightly but not enough to keep me from moving toward my goal. To keep me from returning to his arms. I allow myself a glance at his eyes and his face contorts into something unrecognizable, evil.

“I’m coming to get you, Twinkle Toes.” The voice is not his and I blink as the music abruptly stops and the reality, I am in comes crashing forward. The cool kiss of rain rakes a chill down my body. The voice came from behind me. I turn to find the blonde from earlier coming at me with full speed. The person that was behind me in line is blocking him from me and still is a good distance aways. That does not deter the Blonde-haired menace, as he grips the arm of the girl and throws her off. My eyes widen and my instincts overtake my body and I sprint. I focus ahead of me and try to think of music that would be appropriate for this. Something fast paced with horns and fast-paced drums, trying to keep my mind on anything besides the absolute menace behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thudding over the pattering of the rain and I quicken my base trusting in the traction of my boots. I can see the end and Violet reaching it. The is gaining on me and I have enough distance that I pause, briefly and take the risk I prep for my jump and slip. Regaining my balance and looking back to see he is still far enough for me to recover. I get in position once more and take a deep breath.

I will not die today.

I sprint into a run once more and when I have enough distance I take my leap, my feet pointed, my back arched in perfect form even Seraphina wouldn’t have anything to say. When I land the ground is slick and I lose my footing. Fortunately, Violet is there to hold me still. “Lydia! We made it!”

I nod and turn to the cadet with bright red hair, she smirks, “Name.”

“Lydia Aetos.”

“Welcome to the Rider’s Quadrant, Lydia. That was one hell of a performance.”

I walk further down the steps and notice that Violet winces, “Let’s get you taken care of.” I loop her arm in mine before we are both grip in a bone crushing hug.

“We did it!” Rhiannon beams and she looks at me, “You definitely made a name for yourself, what you did on the parapet was amazing.”

“What did I do?”

Violet blinks, “You’re kidding.” Before Violet could elaborate.

“Name.”

“Jack Barlow.” His eyes meet mine and there is a snarl on his face. The look promises one thing. Trouble. Thankfully he stalks in the other direction

“Lydia.” Only one man’s voice makes me groan knowing a lecture is brewing, I turn and see Dain standing there his mouth formed in a tight line, his eyes shift over to the silver haired woman next to me and his face shifts into shock, “Violet?”

Violet smiles, “Hi Dain,” Dain looked to his left then to his right before he grips both Violet’s and mine’s wrist and drags us away from Rhiannon.

“Dain,” I hiss, “She’s hurt take it easy.”

As if on cue Violet begins to dry heave. “Shit.” Dain mutters as he takes her to a bench hidden in an alcove where no one could see. “What the hell are you doing here, Violet?” As he tucks her head between her knees.

“General Sorrengail, refuses to have a scribe in her family. Like someone else we know.”

“Scribe is a respectable job. Dancing is not.” Dain deadpans and I clench my fist. A hand touches my shoulder causing me to jump. “What the hell were you thinking, Lydia? Dancing on the parapet like that?”

I blink, and clear my throat, “I didn’t realize that is what I did. I was trying to put myself in my happy place. To keep me from over thinking about what I was doing. My instincts went into overdrive.”

“What you did was showboat and it’s going to cause me problems.” He scowls at me, and I get a good look at him at him, he’s grown a beard since I last saw him. But he still has our father’s brown eyes, and his hair cut short and his curls sitting atop his head. “What?”

“I can’t look at my older brother. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.” He rolls his eyes and presses me into a hug.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in my hair as he notices the new pins, “Let me guess.”

“Mira.” Violet, Dain and I say at the same time.

Dain smiles, “They suit you.” His small drops, “You must promise to never do what you did again. There are only two rules that I need you to follow, I expect you to follow them. No talking about dance, or dancing and stay away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see somethings never change.” Dain sighs and moves back to Violet.

I felt a hand gripped my shoulder causing me to jump, “It’s just me.” Rhi’s voice calms me as she gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I wanted to swap shoes back.”

Dain looks between Violet’s shoes and glares at Violet. “Make it snappy.” He glares at Rhiannon, “Who are you?”

Rhiannon looks between me and Violet, “I am their friend.” She slips off Violet’s boot and sighs in reprieve as Violet removes the slipper from her foot and grabs her boot, which Dain helped her put it on.

“I am a squad leader.” He looks over to me and Rhi. “You two go tell the red head recording names that you three are going to be in my squad. I’m going to help Violet and will be right back.” I nod my head and turn on my heal.

“Is that your brother?” Rhi asks.

“Yup.”

“He is something.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh

We have been placed in our squads. I’m grateful that Violet and I ended up together and not in Xaden’s Wing. Not a fan of the fact that he is one of my superiors. His eyes meet mine and he smirks, those eyes look at me like a predator watching his prey. He whispers to our wingleader and then. “Second Wing Flame Section, you will be moving to Fourth Wing.” My stomach sinks, avoiding the stare of my new wingleader.

“Cadets, move.” Dain commands his jaw sets the only indication that he is upset. We move to where our new wing is standing as the one that is now apart of Second Wing move to where we were just standing.

Once everyone settles Xaden begins to speak. I try to zone him out as best as I can, exhaustion is beginning to take over my body. The adrenaline from crossing over the parapet but his voice rings out, “You all feel pretty bad ass don’t you,” Cheers erupt around me and Xaden nods, “Feeling invincible?” I do not feel that way. “You think you’re worthy of a dragon.” More cheers erupted and Xaden crossed his arms. The sound of thunder erupts.

No. Not thunder.

Wings.

As if on Xaden’s cue a horde dragons’ approach, the noise begins to build as a regal blue dagger tail lands on the edge of the wall as if it’s a perch for them. Her claws dig into the brick, pieces crumbling down under her weight. I notice the cadets around me are frozen in fear. A few were shaking and their pants had dark spots that trailed down their legs. Terror racks through my body but I focus on my breathing.

Thump, Thump

The blood curdling scream of another cadet rattles me as a young man from the first wing runs heading back toward the parapet. The dragons all shift as a few more cadets scatter. I blink and feel hands around my waist tugging me down before the dragons unfurl their tongues and fire erupts from all different angles. The hands around me tug me close to the lean chest and I place my own hands around the mystery person’s, their fingers lacing theirs through mine I squeeze my eyes shut as anguish screams fill my ears and will certainly give me nightmares. The fire ceases and the smell of burnt flesh is left in its wake. The figure behind me moves and helps me up. I turn around hoping I would see Dain’s face behind me.

Thump, Thump

Instead, I am met with warm brown eyes and a goofy grin. A man with tan skin, a curly mop of brown hair and handsome face looks back at me, “You, okay?”

I nod my hand, “Thank you…” I lead of.

He holds out his hand, “Ridoc Gamlyn.”

I took his hand, “Lydia Aetos.”

Before Ridoc can comment on my name Dain turns, “Quiet both of you.” Ridoc Mimics him and causes me to giggle as Xaden continues his speech.

“Anyone still feel invincible now?” He questions his brow quirking as his eyes loom over the entire Quadrant, locking onto mine.

Thump, Thump.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His eyes pin me to the floor incapable of moving. Out of the corner of my eye I see the blue dagger tail moving her head back and forth. It’s the gasp of the crowd that pulls me from Xaden’s gaze.

Thump, Thump.

The blues dragon takes a step down and my squad parts to make room for her. Her yellow eyes are looking directly at me as she takes another step forward. Dain’s face paled as he watches on, but its movement to my left that catches my attention. Xaden moves from where he is standing, his face is unreadable. It’s the quaking step of the dragon in front of me and my heart rate quickens as her yellow eyes take me in.

Thump, Thump, Thump

Despite the paralyzing fear, that I may very well die in the next few seconds I take in the creature before me. Her large horns curve on the top of her head. Her scales up close shimmer with various hues of blue and hints of black near the base of her scales, which makes her eyes stand out. Her nostrils flair, it feels like a challenge, as if she is begging for me to turn and run.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I will not die today. I take a glance at where Dain is and spot Violet right beside him, terror on her face. She knows dragons better than I do, though I know enough, she knows my rate of survival is potentially slim here. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even. My heart erupting in my ears.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I get down on my knees, my hands remaining at my sides. “What the fuck is she doing?” Jack Barlow’s voice carries over the silence that has fell amongst the court. No one else says a word as I bend forward lowering myself until my forehead touches the cool brick, the small grooves pressed against my skin. I close my eyes and I mentally recite different dance positions in my head trying to ease the fear.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

My breathing begins to even out when I feel the warm steam pressing against my neck. I take the risk and lift my head; the dragon nods her head. Is she giving me the okay to rise? Another dip of her head, and I slowly rise to my feet. As I do I meet her gaze once more, it’s just her and I, the world around us since forgotten. The dragon does something to my surprise, she cranes her neck where the tip of her snout touches the floor. She is bowing to me. The message is clear, a sign of mutual respect.

Thump, Thump.

She raises her head but keeps it low as she cranes her neck out for me. I cannot even see her eyes as she comes near and presses her snout to my chest. The chatter amongst the crowd is indistinguishable. I press my hand to her snout, her scales feel like leather under my touch, a smile forms on my cheeks, fear suddenly turning into elation. “Hello, Beautiful.” My voice was unable to reach above a whisper. She huffs in response and moves back to where she was perched before.

Adrenaline must be widdling from my body fast because I grip Ridoc’s shoulder tightly as my world tilts.

Thump, Thump.

I just survived my first encounter with a dragon.

Chapter 2

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @marvelsmylife @sherayuki @misslady246 @thelov3lybookworm @a-frog-with-a-laptop @randomperson1234sblog @garricks4thwingqueen

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x oc #xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #ridoc fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #dain aetos #violet sorrengail #slow burn #xaden x oc

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izvmimi · 1 month

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cw: angsty. breakup mention. based on this song.

Everyone wishes they could go back to the beginning of a love affair, and perhaps if you were ever afforded the opportunity, you’d rewind to many years ago, when Suo first smiled at you and asked for your name. Perhaps you would have smiled just as politely and given him an alias or a nickname that wouldn’t grow as familiar as your name did eventually in his mouth, or come up with some sort of false appointment to help you leave the soiree.

It's not like you could have known.

Your friend had told you he was a good man, and by all intents and purposes, he is one - kind, considerate, devoted to serving the community he’s a part of, perhaps at a time devoted to you - but now you are trying to erase desperately every memory you’ve shared, as if the endless harsh scrubbing of your body touched by him, as if rough fingers on your scalp and searingly hot water will melt every mark of him on your soul.

This is a no-fault end to a love affair. He assured you it was him, not you, and plus, you both wanted different things, he’d reminded you, holding your fingertips the entire time over the coffee table so you wouldn’t shake or cry in public. You’d nodded, as if in a trance, his lips forming words that you had no choice but to agree with, even if soon you could barely hear what he was saying from the rushing of blood in your ears.

Suo doesn’t want you anymore. Did he ever want you? Did he ever love you?

No fault. You did nothing wrong, you just grew apart, and adults do not force square pegs into round holes, they let each other be free to explore and be nurtured by the communities they serve and fall in love again, as many times as it takes to find the connection that fits and lasts.

It doesn’t matter how long you scald yourself under hot water, the love won’t fade away.

…

You hear your now ex has left the country from your friends a couple of weeks later, and you’re none the wiser. You don’t stop to think more about why, because you’ve cried enough times that the part of your brain that processes him and his person is now numb, and all you can do is nod, even if people are surprised to know you weren’t aware.

You have no details to share.

It’s not you, it’s him, after all.

A year passes, and six months prior to this has you trying to date again by incessant coaxing from your friends, but the curse of being dumped with no explanation and the love of your life disappearing without a trace seems too daunting to move past. You call a crush Suo by accident and don’t even realize until he’s frowning at you as he pays the check, and finally you give up, wondering if something about you has been permanently altered.

It’s been a year and radio silence. No social media updates to even stalk (he always thought private life should stay private) and you had too much pride to ask his friends (if even they knew).

Only time would fix this and in your late 20s, you wonder if eventually you’d run out of time.

…

Suo resurfaces in the middle of the night, dry despite the rain, save for his cloth shoes. He looks like he’s finally come up for air once he’s seen you, and it’s a miracle you’ve even opened the door, but he’s like an apparition, and you need to reach out and touch him.

You haven’t thought about him all week.

Men like him always appear when you’re trying to move on, don’t they?

“I missed you,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and you know he’s telling the truth. You don’t reply, and he doesn’t say anything further, as if he’s waiting for you to slam the door on his face.

You don’t. All you do is say, “It’s not me, it’s you.”

His face turns to steel for a moment, and you can see him turn into the ghost you were expecting for a moment.

He whispers your name and you look down at his feet.

“Take off your shoes. You have exactly ten minutes.”

When your eyes meet his again as you look up, they’re filled to the brim with thankful tears, more emotion than you’ve seen in years.

Indoors, tonight, you’ll decide if there is still a fate that connects you, while the breeze and the moonlight outdoors remains constant.

#suo x reader #hayato suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #wind breaker x reader #daydreams: wind breaker #cw angst

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circeyoru · 6 months

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Unwanted Soul _ Part 10 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 — Part 10 (here)

You’re sure it didn’t take a second after Alastor heard the introduction to immediately grab Kat with his many black tendrils that appeared under Kat’s feet. Her high-pitch screams made you cover your ears and and squeeze your eyes shut. At your discomfort, Alastor had a tendril wrapped around her mouth

You watched while Alastor had that raging murderous smile on his face while his eyes turned back. He threw Kat from building to building, never letting go and giving her a moment to recover. You timed a good 10 minutes before you placed a hand on Alastor’s arm to snap him out of his rage

It was considerate of him to not personally deal with her because you were still near and you two were out in the open so anything could happen. Normally, he would have torn her limb from limb and chomped down on her flesh like a piece of meat. Now this was a new method of torture

At your touch, Alastor’s head snapped to you. You pointed to a spot on the side of your head and told him Kat was marked by Vox’s servant symbol, meaning the contract she was mentioning had been one with Vox. Alastor’s grin widened even more and gave one final throw into the ground, creating a crater before releasing her from his hold

Kat gasped and groaned, trying to get up but fell back down. Slowly, she crawled her way out of the crater and ended up at your feet. You watched her with distain and pity. You honestly can’t understand why she’d take Vox’s deal, she was taken advantage of, possibility due to her having just arrived in Hell at the time and didn’t know the importance of a soul contract

“How dare you die…” Kat hissed, his hands clenched to fists. “You have no idea what I went through after that f**king stunt you pulled!”

“I’m assuming you meant you stealing My Darling’s work as your own?” Alastor glared sharply at Kat.

Kat laughed, “Hahahahaha! What kind of lies did you feed him?” She pointed a finger at you, “This f**ker let me! The b*tch was happy to write for me! I take the credit cause you don’t want the attention, remember?”

Your eyes narrowed. That’s what you told yourself all those time. You told yourself it was fine because you didn’t like all this publicity and attention. Yet the fact that you felt anger towards it meant you didn’t want to give your work to another. At least not when all this was given to someone like her

Honestly, how can she blame her later misfortune on your death? She was your best friend, shouldn’t she feel something about it? Anything? Even the slighty sadness before all this?

You gripped onto Alastor’s hand, feeling a headache and dizziness growing. You whispered that you wanted to go home

Alastor understood and with a final slap at the poor excuse of a friend across the face with his end of the cane, Alastor brought you two back to your shared room. Alastor asked if you needed anything but you merely said you needed some time alone

“If you require anything, Love. Just call me.”

“...”

Back at the crater, before Kat could recover from the blow or curse. She was swiftly pinned to the ground by the neck, a situation that was all too familiar. Sharp blade like needles stabbed into her hands and knees. Dread filled every fiber of her body as she tried to get out of the hold she’s under but her body was frozen in fear

Just like before

“Aww, The Dear Writer left so quickly… What a thoughtful bodyguard too. Nothing less will be fitting for the Dear.” The new figure cooed, their shoes applied more force on Kat’s neck, grinding her into the ground. “Don’t you agree, Faker?”

“How did you find me?” Kat shivered against the hold. “Ce— Ahhhhh!”

“Ah ah~ I think it’s only right that I have a new name down here, I’m Nemesis now.” The demon chuckled, “Not hard considering your new boss is quite infamous around the city. What with all the technology he sells, you appearing on TV was just an easy guess. Though my services aren’t required when you have this.”

Kat screamed when a sharp blade pierced into the place where Vox’s contract mark was implanted.

Nemesis’ lips curved into a twisted smile as they continued to slowly torture the screaming female. “So where can I find the Dear Writer?”

“Hazbin… Hotel…”

“Many thanks.” Nemesis’ tail pulled out the blades without warning one by one, their ear flickering at the screams while they pulled out their phone. They grinned, pressing on something, “I think you were in the spotlight of fame a bit too long down here. Let’s return you to the nothing you are.”

Over the past few days, you’ve been working non-stop making all those TVs and speakers that you promised Vox. While doing so, you tried not using your pages and used your quill to write in the air like Lucifer suggested, it took some time since the mechanism was more complex than what you tried before. Though it offer as good exercise for you

Smoothly, you somehow managed to slowly not use your quill as well and changed to using your finger to scribble words in the air before flicking at it to summon your written object. That took way more energy that you can manage because the word required energy then the conjuration required even more energy

But you managed because you needed something to distract yourself from the recent train of events and emotional burn out

Alastor’s been trying to get you to pause in your work and relax. You ignore it all together and continued, even when Alastor pulled you away and into his arms, you were motionless and repeated told him to let go so you could work. All he could do was continue to provide you with meals and reminders to rest since you were practicing and needed energy to continue

At least that got you to pull away from work. The light in your eyes was soft and dimmed, but it was better than when you were first on the verge of breaking down like a broken doll

Like before, Charlie and the others asked about you from Alastor when he was cooking your meals. It was like the time when you first arrived in the hotel, that was when you were doing it of your own volitation with Alastor as your excuse. Now, it was because you were helping the hotel and got unwanted attention

When all of Vox’s devices were being ddelivered by Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk with a hypnotic resistance charm casted on them by you, you covered yourself in a blanket and drowned yourself in music

You were exhausted physically and mentally, you wanted to push yourself even more but you knew Alastor would be against it all the way and you don’t want to push him to do forceful thing just to make you see reason. You know Alastor would feel worse than you do because of his love and devotion towards you

At the thought of that, you feel even worse that you were treating Alastor do badly. Even worse, he’s seeing this pathetic side of you. What if he leaves you? What if he thinks you’re not worth it? What if—

A familiar rhythemic knocking on your door brought you out of your thoughts. Alastor’s muffle voice came through, “Beloved.” That nickname that melted your worries and comforted you, “I think there’s someone you should meet.”

You wondered who Alastor would just let into your room, even the hotel members didn’t get that luxury and that includes Niffty because Alastor handles the maintainance of your room all on his own. You trust Alastor, “Sure, come on in.”

The door opened and someone you’re unfamiliar with rushed in while Alastor stood guard at the door after closing it shut and locking it. “I’m Nemesis, I’m a big big fan of your work! Completely obsessed really! Oh my god! Or is it oh my Lucifer now? Anyways! It’s so good to finally meet you in the flesh! Well, not flesh flesh, but this afterlife is like another life, so~”

“Nemesis. As in like revenge? Enacting retribution?” You blinked at the name, it reminds you of Alastor’s since his meant tormentor, avenger, and persecutor.

They got real close to your face as their smile spread, “Woah, truly the mind of a writer. You got my name reference.” They straightened up as they shrugged, “Other people, oops, demons only got that it’s Greek and hard to remember. Urgh, no class at all. They remember you by title too! Can you guess mine?”

Your eyebrow raised in confusion, you don’t know why this demon, Nemesis, was this causal with you. Though you figured that they had a talk with Alastor beforehand, that’s why Alastor even allowed them to be in here and talking with you. Even with close promixity

You observed Nemesis as they wanted. They were a snow leopard type of demon, with the fluffy ears on top of their head and tail behind them swishing like that of a cat’s. But you can’t tell whether it was just because it was their favourite animal, something they’re interested, or death related. Maybe something that they hate too, there was a sick irony in Hell

Your eyes traveled down to the row of white stielett-type weapons on their sides, they looked like giant dagger-sized needles but to you, they looked more like a pen. When Nemesis noticed your gaze, they took one from each side and started demonstrating to you how it was used like a performance

“The Dancing Needle.” Your lips moved and words came out before you knew it. At Nemesis’ frozen state and Alastor’s shocked face, you covered your mouth. “S—”

“How did you know?” Nemesis raved with shock, “You only observed too!”

You looked away, “It was nothing…”

Nemesis shook their head, “No way! It was amazing! If only I realized earlier…”

“Realized what?”

“That you’re the real author of that best selling novel that got so much attention.”

Nemesis went on to tell you. In the living world, they were Cecil and the editor for Karolina

During then, Cecil as an editor fell in love with the novels that Karolina had written. By some miracle, Cecil was given the chance to work as Karolina’s editor in the future and somewhat manager and caretaker since authors needed someone to ground them and since both were female, it was perfect

Over the years, Cecil noticed that Karolina was always attending public events and activities to boost popularity. It was normal, but to Cecil, it was weird that Karolina never actually sat down and written anything or researched for ideas. There was no burnout or ridiculous sleep schedules to follow and adapt to just to write a novel

Yet the requested writings were always provided and they were nearly to perfection, with minor grammar and some careless mis-spelling probably due to tiredness or being in the moment. It was an editor’s dream to work for someone like this. An author that’s famous and lively, and mostly punctual so nothing was forced or rushed to complete and do

But Cecil noticed the odd teachings and advices that Karolina would give to other people. There was nothing solid about it, it was all either the same old same old or just plain out weird to say. She had no accounts to retell, no personal examples to list. Yet she never asked Cecil for help

There was an interesting meeting that Karolina would always do. Whenever a deadline was near, Karolina would visit a friend of hers. Cecil thought it was for comfort and causal chatting at first, but every time she returns, there was more to tell on interviews and talk shows

To Cecil, it felt like someone was providing for Karolina

And Cecil was right. After the death of that friend, Karolina seemingly lost creativity and motivation. She lied on news channel that the novel was written for that friend to get through depression, she lied and painted herself as a caring and loving friend that wanted what’s best for that friend

Isn’t it odd that Karolina continues to sign contracts and appearances on screen regarding the novel? Some people requested for some detail clarification, but she denied them and said it was all secrets saved for her friend

Her friend this, her friend that. Everything was her friend, every excuse was her friend. So Cecil did some digging

Back when the first novel of the series was released, there was a buzz of a copycat that tried to steal Karolina’s work but failed. Cecil got her hands on that copy and read through it, the writing style was identicial to the later volumes that was published, the ideas that were cut off in this copy was in the later volumes

Cecil checked the statistics and comments, the first book had plotholes here and there, some even said it feels like things were missing here and there. But overall, it was still a good story. So there was a push to continue sequel to the first novel

Pages all dropped to the floor at the realization. That friend… That friend that Karolina was caring for… That friend had to be the real author of the books. It all made sense! Cecil searched online and found that that friend died, not by accident or sickness. No… Suicide…

An unfathomable rage and need for justice overtook Cecil and she was determined to see that Karolina suffers a slow and painful down. It was hard to pull it off, but somehow it was managed

Cecil pinned Karolina down with pens and cutters, then used daggers to stab all over her body without hitting any vitals. Cecil sliced words into her skin, ‘copycat’, ‘faker’, ‘liar’, ‘abuser’, and ‘murderer’. Then, Cecil decapitated Karolina’s head off of her body

Courtmeeting was given to Cecil where she used her chance to reveal it all. Who was the real author and who was the fake. Who was in the victim and who was the perpetator. Cecil announced that she is aware and admit that she done wrong, but if she could do it again, she would

The death sentence was passed down

Nemesis kneeled on their knees, looking up at you, tears flowing. “You suffered so much and no one knew or cared. Now they do, I’m included.” They held one of your hand, “So don’t knock yourself down, My Writer.”

Alastor took your other hand, placing a kiss on it, “We will deal with all your troubles so you can relax~ My Beloved.”

You can’t help but chuckled with a carefree closed-eye smile, “Oh you two…” But then your eyes snapped open and eyed the two, then focused on Nemesis. “Oh… There’s two of them now…”

Alastor and Nemesis eyed each other and smiled widely. “Whatever do you mean?”

Note: And that's the end of this arc~ Okay okay, I heard you guys loud and clear. No end yet cause you guys are willing to wait and read more. I'm taking a break from this series for a while to do other ones. But what do you think of this one?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist @cyannese-rose @type-ink @saccharine-nectarine

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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asirensrage · 7 months

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Unrepentant

Title: Unrepentant Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Explicit Pairing: Sano "Mikey" Manjiro x Fem!Reader, Bonten x Fem!Reader Word count: 3599 Warnings: Dark!fic. Dub-con. Wearing a collar and leash as punishment. Talk of ownership. Edging. Coercion. Public Sex. Swearing. Drug Use. Threats. Choking. Orgasm Denial. References to drug addiction. Unbeta'd. *warnings are not exhaustive*

Notes: I had the urge to write something while listening to Poison from Hazbin Hotel on repeat. This is the result. It is a dark fic. Consider yourself warned. Reader is not described in looks or size. Please let me know what you think. (It's one of the many fics/oneshots I have planned or started for TR lol.) Enjoy!

HEED THE WARNINGS

How did it come to this?

You’re kneeling at his feet, eyes on the ground as the bass of music in the club thumps in time with the headache in the back of your skull. It’s punishment.

Not the headache. That’s the ache that comes with withdrawal, the same way your fingers twitch as you try to hold them in place. But the position you’re in. The collar tight around your neck that’s attached to a chain he holds. The tension is loose as if it’s not there, but you know if you even shift out of your position, you’ll feel it.

Feet come to pause in front of you, clad in expensive shoes. You don’t move, don’t look to confirm your suspicion about who it is.

“Look at you,” he coos. You can hear him clearly over the music, but it’s only when he bends down and tilts your head up to look at him, that you know you’re right. “You look like a fragile thing like this, doll. What’d you do to earn this?”

He knows. They all know. It’s just another test. Ran grins at you as you drop your eyes, knowing you can’t respond right now without permission.

“Answer.” The man holding your chain demands, yanking it slightly in warning.

You don’t flinch, don’t make a sound at the way it jars you. “I made a mistake,” you say, just loud enough that they both can hear you.

Ran laughs at that. “Yeah, baby? A mistake?”

It was more than that. The reason Mikey collared you and kept you chained tonight at his feet was a lesson in humiliation and obedience. In a fit of sobriety, you had attempted to escape. You didn’t get far.

“That what you’re calling it?”

You look up at Ran. He looks as handsome as ever, but you know the truth of what’s behind his good looks. You know how much blood is on their hands. You nod and drop your eyes again.

His hand grips your jaw tightly, fingers digging into your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Such a pretty thing, baby. Open your mouth.”

Fear sparks up your spine. You’re in public, even if it’s the VIP area of the club. There are others around. The hesitation makes Ran dig his fingers in tighter, pressing your cheeks against your teeth as he forces you to open your mouth. He leans in and lets a lob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. You swallow, taking the revulsion with it. He smirks, letting go of your jaw before he pats your cheek. He looks up to Mikey who has the chain you’re attached to wrapped around one of his hands. “Let me know when you’re done with her. She can keep the chain.”

The worst part is that you can only blame yourself. This was a choice you made. Even if you didn’t know it would turn out this way.

⛓️

It had been chance that led you to them. A bad day, week, year…it had all added up to the moment when you found yourself stumbling into a firm chest. You had dropped the paperwork you had been holding and could only watch helplessly as it fell into the rain. You were crying before you realized it, the dam of stress finally breaking. You kneel on the wet ground, tears falling and mixing with the rain that had started to soak into your skin.

He could have left you. He should have left you, but the stranger you ran into paused and bent down, helping you pick up the papers. He made some ill-timed joke about it not being that bad, and before you knew it, you were telling him about how this was going to get you fired. The admission that you were struggling to provide for your family. A younger sibling, a mother in the hospital…you were their last leg of survival. And it was ruined.

Until he offered to help.

You should have run in the other direction and never looked back.

⛓️

You hear his laugh first.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” Sanzu says, leaning against the chair behind you. You can practically feel the heat of his body against your back. It’s not surprising. The outfit you’re in can barely be called a dress. “Shit, Mikey…you like her like this? You look like you belong there, sweetheart,” Sanzu says. You ignore the jeering. He likes to get a reaction.

“Maybe we should keep her like this all the time.” A foot nudges the side of your leg. Rindou. It wasn’t often the two of them were together, but it was a dangerous combination. Like the Haitani brothers together and in a competitive mood.

You try to ignore them, but then Rindou moves in front of you. He doesn’t bend down, but he slips his foot between your legs. You watch as he steps a bit closer before pressing the top of his foot up against you. You tremble, trying not to react as he purposefully tries to make you break, to make you beg, to do anything that counts as breaking Mikey’s rules tonight. You try to focus on your breathing instead of how he rubs his foot against you and how the laces on his shoes cause nearly enough friction on your clit through the lace of the underwear you wear.

It’s torture trying to keep yourself from grinding down on it, seeking a release you know they can give you if they’re feeling generous.

Finally, he pulls back and you let out a shuddered breath.

“You must really be sorry,” Rindou says.

A hand digs into your hair, pulling your head back until you’re looking up at Sanzu who’s staring down at you, cerulean eyes narrow in their glare.

“Are you?” he demands.

You nod quickly, tears prickling in your eyes at the pain of your hair being pulled with the motion. “It was a stupid mistake. I’ll be good!”

He drags a drag of whatever he’s smoking and leans down, blowing it in your face. The familiar scent of marijuana engulfs you and you breathe in quickly, chasing the tease of a high. Anything for an escape. “You better fucking hope so,” he says.

⛓️

Kakucho offers you two things when you finally get out of the rain. He’ll smooth over the issues at your job, follow you and explain that the destroyed paperwork was his fault…or he’ll get you a job. One that will compensate you far better than anything you’ll do in an office that doesn’t appreciate you. He can help you protect your family, to give them a better life and better healthcare for your mother.

You’re not stupid. You question his motives first.

He shrugs. “Maybe I just can’t stand to see a pretty girl cry.” There’s something in his eyes that warns you, but you ignore it...and ask what the job entails.

⛓️

Mochi doesn’t kneel in front of you.

He doesn’t do anything like trying to edge you or blow smoke in your face. Instead, he rests his hand on the top of your head as he speaks to Mikey. He stands in front of you, but in a way that feels more like he’s blocking you from the others. A small kindness.

Until he bends down and gently tilts your head up to look at him. He looks at Mikey before offering you a sip of his drink. You agree instantly, letting him tilt it to your lips. “You look good like this, princess. But I prefer you unchained. Hope you learn this lesson. You try it again and one of us just might have to break something.” The drink spills over your lips, making you cough as you choke on the sudden increase of liquid. You bend forward before you can stop yourself, coughing harder. The collar tightens as the chain doesn’t give any further leeway.

You hear someone laugh in the distance. You think it might be Sanzu but you ignore it, well aware of the pleasure they’re taking in your penance. Mikey had given you a choice when you were dragged back in front of him. Your life or your family’s. It was the same one that got you into this situation in the first place. Only this time, if you chose to leave them in the manner they picked, they’d go to your family and drag them deeper into the depths you were submerged in. Your mother was recovering. Your younger sibling has a future ahead of them. You couldn’t bury them in your regrets and bad decisions. You made the same choice you did last time. The same one you’ll make every time.

You go back to your kneeling position once you can breathe again.

⛓️

The job that Kakucho promises is a simple office job. One where you keep your head down and don’t ask questions. It lasts two weeks. Two weeks of learning the systems, of ignoring the small things you start learning about who you’re working for. Two weeks of dealing with the confused looks other people send you, of the way Kakucho appears occasionally to walk you out. Until he kisses you.

He doesn’t apologize when you reel back in surprise. His mismatched eyes watch you, hand grabbing your wrist before you get too far. It’s just a kiss, he tells you. Don’t forget why you’re here.

A reminder that you owe him. You nod and he lets you go, but the next day, a strange man is waiting at your desk. One of the other executives, you quickly learn.

⛓️

The pain in your head is growing.

You want silence or at least something stronger than a puff of smoke shotgunned into your mouth. You never used to do drugs. Funny how fast that all changed. Now you’ll take anything to forget.

Your legs have gone numb under you and you’ll be lucky if you can walk when he finally decides to take you home. There’s no other place for you. You lost your own apartment ages ago and while all the men have used you, Mikey holds you as tight as he does now, whether or not there’s a physical chain that links you. You owe him your life now. He was gracious not to kill you when you ran from them. This is a small price compared to what you could have owed.

“You gonna let her up?”

Takeomi. You don’t see him, but you hear him. If Mikey says anything in response, it blends too well into the background.

“Least he chose you a good outfit. Look up at me, darling.” They each have their pet names for you when they’re being kind…or wanting to mock you and your fate.

You wait for the tug signalling permission before you look up at Mikey’s advisor. He’s smoking a cigarette and standing there, looking down at you. He’s older, a scar on his face like some of the others. Different and yet so similar that it makes you think of Kakucho who’s either not attending or has been ordered away from you.

“You’re fucked up, aren’t you?” he asks. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth before turning to offer it to you. It’s not as strong as you want, but the nicotine might be enough to help ease some of the headache you’re feeling. He lets you inhale twice before he takes it back. An indirect kiss that’s tame compared to some of the other stuff you’ve done together.

“Thank you,” you say, knowing it’s required.

He smirks at you, taking another drag before he turns to Mikey. “You should keep the collar.”

“I know a place,” a new voice interrupts. Koko leans down as he steps up next to you. “We could get one of the ones that she can’t take off. With our symbol carved into it.” He looks at you carefully before lifting your head to look at him. “Thought you’d be crying.” He lets out a small sigh as if he’s disappointed. “You’re prettier when you’re crying.”

You look away, unsure of how to respond to that. Koko likes to spoil you, but he also likes to see you overstimulated and begging for him to stop. Every gift comes with a price and you pay the most with Koko’s.

“You should have come to me,” Koko says softly. “Would have fucked that mistake out of your head.” He uses your term, informing you that they’re talking about you. It’s nothing new. You’ve been with them all, separately and together. They’ve all seen you breaking apart around them and each other. It’s only everyone else that doesn’t get a taste of you.

⛓️

The first time you meet Mikey, you’re outside a club you never wanted to go to. It was some party for the employees and the entire floor had been invited. It had been made clear to you, not only by Kakucho but Ran and the others as well, that your attendance was mandatory.

You’re in the middle of eating one of the snacks you picked up at the convenience store on the way here, leaning against the wall of the club. There’s no line tonight and you’re in no rush to go in. You’d rather not drink on an empty stomach.

It’s not long before you realize someone’s watching you.

You turn to look, but when you finally catch them, it becomes a little more apparent that they’re not staring at you, but at the food in your hand.

“Want one?” you ask. He looks thin, his outfit too large on him. You’re not particularly charitable, but you’d rather get rid of the food and garbage before walking into a club. You offer the bag to him.

He stares at you, finally meeting your eyes, for a long moment. “Why?”

You shrug. “I’m full…and I don’t want to carry it. You can throw it out if you want, but it’s still sealed. I just bought it down the street.”

He takes the bag, pulling the pancake treat out and staring at the package. He looks back at you. “You here?” he asks, nodding towards the club. When you nod, he leaves and you watch incredulously as he walks in with the plastic bag in one hand. The bouncers don’t even ID him.

⛓️

Mikey pulls at your collar until you’re stumbling in front of him, leaning into his legs as you try to ease the pressure. He shifts his position before pulling and you’re left struggling as climb up into his lap at his silent demand.

You straddle his thighs, waiting until he directs you. You’re not usually this calm, this submissive, but the threat of your family’s lives hangs over your head. Regret for your own choices sits heavy in your gut. It’s your own fault.

“Look at me.”

You lift your eyes to meet Mikey’s. His gaze is dark, but it’s not empty like it used to be. Not like when you met. He stares at you for a long moment before his hand slips between your legs. Your breath hitches as his fingers shove your underwear to the side, pressing in. He doesn’t look away from you as he swipes up before pulling his fingers out. They shine slightly, slick with the wetness that gathered from Rindou’s foot and the way the men have come to tease you, to try to make you react to them to exacerbate your punishment.

He holds them up between you before moving them to your mouth. You open instantly, letting Mikey press his fingers down on your tongue. You close your lips around them, sucking softly and trying to clean yourself off of him.

“Trying hard to earn my forgiveness, aren’t you?” he says.

You nod, moving your tongue over his fingers until he shoves them further down your throat until you choke. Tears build up in your eyes instantly. He keeps them there as you struggle to breathe before he pulls them out.

You gasp for air, tears falling down your cheeks. A sharp smack against your ass makes you take a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from crying.

“You want my forgiveness. Earn it.”

⛓️

Your back is to his chest as you face the room. The music thumps in along with your heartbeat. You’re not sure where one stops and the other begins at this point. Smoke hangs in the air, a hazy mix of tobacco, marijuana and fog from the machines. It’s not enough.

You rock your hips, trying to build the pleasure for both of you. Mikey is hard inside you, stretching you deliciously, one hand looped around the chain attached to your collar while the other rests on the side of the couch he sits on. You’re doing all the work, trying your best to get him off, to ignore the eyes of the Executives on you. You’ve seen some of them palming themselves already, trying to ease the tension building from the sight of you fucking their leader.

You’d be more embarrassed if you weren’t so focused on this. It's not the first time they’ve watched you, but you’re usually somewhere more private. Not in the VIP section of a club, a open balcony where anyone could see you if they actually wanted to. The crowd would be able to hear you whining, desperate and needy, if it wasn’t for the music. You’re surprised but you don’t question the choice. None of them like sharing you and the last time someone else other than any of them walked in on you taking care of one of them, they ended up dead.

“Mikey–” you groan, grinding your hips back into his. “Mikey, please,” you beg. You’re not allowed to cum until he lets you.

The chain pulls suddenly, yanking your head back until you’re arching your back and your face is next to his. It hurts but you don’t dare complain. Not when you’ve managed to avoid it so far.

“You ordering me?” he asks. “You think you deserve to cum?”

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, hands reaching to the collar, trying to ease some of the pressure. You deviate before you touch it, hearing one of the other men groan in disappointment that you’re still coherent enough to not get yourself into more trouble. Instead, you cup your breasts over the slip of a dress you wear. “‘m sorry…” you whine, trying to move your hips, to chase the high that’s building.

“Look at them.”

Your eyes try to find the other men watching the two of you but the angle you’re currently forced into makes it difficult.

“The only reason you’re not being fucked by them is because of me. Because I haven’t given them permission.” He thrusts his hips up, making you cry out in surprise at the sudden change. “I own you. You gave your life to me and here you are, fucking yourself on me, begging me for a release you don’t fucking deserve. You want to cum? Fucking beg for my forgiveness.”

“I’m sorry!” You say quickly, tears burning in your eyes from the pain of the position you’re in. “Mikey, I’m sorry! I’ll never run again! I swear! I’ll be good! Please, Mikey! I was wrong! I’m yours!”

“Hmm..” he doesn’t say anything else, but the pressure on your throat finally eases and you’re able to lean forward, breathing like normal again. You put your hands on his knees before going back to moving your hips, to using him to fuck yourself on at his orders.

It doesn’t take long before he tires of your pace. His hand is on your throat, his other arm wraps around your waist as he thrusts up into you. He pulls you down, slamming you onto him. There’s nothing you can do but hold on, begging for a release he’s continued to refuse you.

He breaks, pulling you down onto him, cock twitching as he cums inside. You moan at the feeling but it’s still not enough, not to get you off. You’re left on the cusp of your orgasm, feeling needy and desperate in a way that you’ve long gotten over hating yourself for.

“Mikey, please..” you beg quietly.

He pulls you back, hand stroking softly against your hip as he presses his lips against the spot behind your ear. “You ever try to leave again, I’ll gift you to my men. All of them.” The threat freezes in your chest. It was one thing to be shared amongst the top men of Bonten. It was a whole other to be given to the men who made up the layers of the organization. You wouldn’t survive it.

“I’ll be good,” you promise.

He kisses your neck again before holding up the chain that’s attached to the collar around your neck. “Ran.”

You turn, looking to see the eldest Haitani grin before getting up to fetch you. There’s a prominent bulge in his pants as he takes the leash from Mikey.

“Come on, baby. You gotta apologize to all of us,” he says with a smirk. “Think you can make it up to me too?”

“I expect her back when she’s done.”

You carefully climb off of Mikey’s lap, ignoring the feeling of Mikey’s release slipping out of you and trailing down your thigh, and follow Ran as he leads you by the chain toward the others. Regret churns in your stomach and you quickly shove it down.

After all, you can only blame yourself.

everything tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores

#dark!fic #bonten x reader #mikey sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #bonten smut #bonten x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #fem reader

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arteastica · 3 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (28)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27) | (29)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.7k

Romance authors often portray dancing with one’s beloved as an endless joy, something that could easily last well beyond nightfall. Yet your throbbing feet, bound and constrained by the white straps of your low-heeled shoes, silently resented them for such a lie. That’s why, when lunch was served, you eagerly welcomed the opportunity to sit down for a moment or two and catch your breath before inevitably dragging him back to the dance floor. After all, when else would you have the chance to slow dance against his chest, your chin resting cozily on his shoulder, and his arm wrapped protectively around your waist?

When you savored the first mouthful of peppercorn stuffing you realized that the Koch’s definition of good food was remarkably similar to yours. Everything, from the velvety gravy soup, the endless procession of assorted biscuits, the indulgent servings of steamed pudding, and the generous dollops of raspberry jam you coronated each of them with, prompted contented hums from your lips whenever you took a bite.

“I don’t recall ever seeing you this happy during a meal, not back at the base at least,” he noted from the seat next to yours, a playful smile on his lips and a forkful of roast venison in his hand.

“Well, that’s because you’ve never actually seen me during a meal. Have you, Commander Smith?” you responded casually, eyes completely focused on the extra dollop of jam you were serving, while your mind wandered to all the times you urged him to put his pen down and join you and the others in the dinner hall, even if just for a piece of bread. “Maybe if you graced us with your presence at dinner from time to time, you would see that I enjoy the Survey Corps’ food just as much. But you insist on eating alone in your office so...” you shrugged nonchalantly before bringing a spoon loaded with pudding to your lips.

“Have I upset you, my lady?” he asked with a smile that denoted he wasn’t the least bit concerned, and then, lifting a napkin, proceeded to wipe red jam off the corner of your lips.

And what an absurd question it was. No one with that shade of blue in their eyes and that disarming smile on their lips could ever upset anyone. There was no possible way, especially not when his face was this close to yours; his caring gesture, as sweet as it was unexpected, completely dazzling you, disorienting your senses until you found yourself nodding dazedly, your own eyes hopelessly lost in his.

“How very rude of me then,” he concluded, softly brushing the cloth against your skin, and you honestly couldn’t tell which was softer: the silk or the back of his fingers.

“Mother!” you exclaimed abruptly, springing up from your chair the moment you discovered her poised frame standing beside you. “We w- I mean I was- how do you do, Mother?”

“Darling,” she sent an acknowledging nod your way. Her usual composure, evident in both her assured demeanor and controlled voice, masked any hint of what she thought or felt, and at the same time, sent your heart into a flurry. Her gaze flickered to the Commander, who rose with practiced ease, a stark contrast to your own fumbling attempt from a few seconds ago.

“Madam,” the Commander offered your mother a warm smile along with a welcoming hand, a silent invitation you desperately hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

“Commander Smith,” she replied after a stretch of silence, which you wished had been shorter, placing her hand in his with ladylike charm.

Although your heart still pounded and raced inside, a flicker of relief found its way within when you saw the genuine smile blooming on your mother’s face as the Commander helped her into the vacant seat beside him.

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” she declared in that regal tone she reserved for social occasions, and it dawned on you: how long it had been since you last heard her speak that way. At home, her voice was always so mellow, less measured, especially around you and your father. And a sting of longing shot through you, a sudden wish for more of those casual evenings shared around the dinner table. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Commander Smith,” she added.

“Not from the press, I expect,” he said, earning a hearty chuckle from your mother. And you lowered your head, trying to resist the childlike smile shyly tugging at your lips as you watched the scene unfold.

“Rest assured, Commander Smith. Despite the occasional critique about the Survey Corp’s overbaked tomato pie, my daughter’s letters are otherwise filled with glowing reports about her days under your leadership.”

“So, Mother! Where’s Father?” you blurted out abruptly as soon as the Commander turned to look at you, a questioning eyebrow raised above a widely amused smirk that spelled ‘I knew you didn’t like our food!’ on his lips. “I was hoping he could meet Commander Smith today.”

“Your father? I was under the impression that he was right behind me,” she sighed in disappointment, glancing around in an attempt to find him among the partygoers. “Guess I shouldn’t have assumed. Maybe one of his… secret society buddies snatched him, or maybe the government finally got him,” she spoke with a touch of nonchalance that made you huff, shaking your head in playful disapproval of your parents’ bickering as you exchanged a smile with the Commander, who seemed downright entertained by your mother’s presence.

“If those bureaucratic buffoons you call ‘our government’ were to find us, color me surprised,” a masculine voice emerged from behind, and you didn’t need to turn in order to know who it belonged to. “Let's just say, Hansel's neck would be on the chopping block way before mine. We can worry about this head above my shoulders after they scrape his off the floor,” with that, your father materialized beside you, snatching a piece of bread from your plate and biting the best part off.

“Father,” you rose to your feet in greeting, gesturing towards the Commander with your hand, “This is Commander Erwin Smith.”

“You bet he is!” he yelled enthusiastically, the bread he had previously shoved into his mouth now getting in the way of his words, so he tried to wash it all down with an indulgent sip of his apple toddy. “What a momentous occasion! Today will go down in history as the day we finally crossed paths, my Commander,” he declared, a wide grin splitting his face.

My Commander? Since when? You thought, a silent snort almost escaping your lips. You wouldn't dare say it aloud though, not wanting to disrupt the moment or make the Commander uncomfortable. You knew time had softened your father's stance on the Survey Corps, especially towards their leader, but it was just too comical: to think this was the same man who, not too many seasons back, used to rant every week about the government wasting their funds on the Scouts.

Regardless, you were glad he had come to see him in a new light. Because Erwin Smith, his people, and the sacrifices they constantly made deserved nothing less than the utmost respect.

“Well met, my lord,” the Commander replied with a cordial smile. Standing right by his side, you blushed at the height difference between you two. There were moments when you felt genuinely small next to him, and this was one of them, but it always brought you a strange sense of security. And suddenly, you found yourself longing to experience that comforting feeling again, to be held in his strong embrace once again today, like the first time, that late summer afternoon in the forest of Giants Trees… To feel even smaller and overpowered by him, his solid muscles, his manly scent... Yes, that would be the perfect ending to a truly fantastic day.

“I have heard a great deal about you from your lady daughter,” he added, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine warmth. “She even mentioned your... unique ability to interpret nature's signs.”

“Is that right?” your father turned to you, pride shining in his round eyes. “Do you know what wisdom Augusta’s azaleas are revealing today?”

“Unfortunately, my lord, I wouldn’t be able to interpret such… botanical pronouncements,” the Commander replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. You weren’t surprised by his skepticism. By now, you had made peace with the fact that a man of science like him would, most likely, always remain in disbelief, no matter how many times nature proved you or your father’s predictions right.

A hearty laugh erupted from your father. "Ah, but perhaps they whisper of blossoming relationships today! Maybe even lifelong bonds taking root, huh? Wouldn’t you want to know, my Commander?" he winked at you, causing you to immediately duck your head in an attempt to hide the kaleidoscope of reds your face had become.

The things he says! Since when did he even-

You took a deep breath, exasperation and affection wrestling within your chest. Classic Father, you thought, always saying what’s on his mind, even if his comments leave everyone a little flustered. You mentally made a note to apologize to the Commander for not warning him about this side of your fa-

“Lifelong bonds. An interesting interpretation, sir,” you looked up, his blue eyes choosing to share a moment with yours even though his words were aimed at your father. “They are a treasure worth cherishing, indeed,” he said, warmth blooming in your chest the longer his gaze lingered on you. And… was that longing in his eyes?

Was he thinking about those days too?

We used to spend hours collecting wildflowers by the stream near our cabin, drinking fresh lemonade in the summer, making love with the bedroom door ajar and the rainiest of mornings ahead of us…You reminded him in silence, surprised by the sudden urge to share with him the memories of your future together. And you swore you saw a ghost of a smile touch his lips before he chose to replace it with words.

“Perhaps some things are best discovered through experience, rather than foretold.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning, tightening your throat with bittersweet nostalgia, and blurring your vision with vivid pictures of memories you were yet to create. Blinking back potential tears, you looked away, a blush creeping up your neck as you realized it was probably your turn to respond. So, taking a deep breath, you hid your longing with a smile.

"Perhaps they are, Commander Smith," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the backdrop of laughter surrounding you.

“Are you enjoying the reception, sir?” The Commander asked, and you knew him well enough to recognize this as his way of diverting attention from you, giving you space to steady yourself.

“Greatly,” your father replied, taking a hearty gulp of his drink to freshen up his throat. “And now that they've started serving apple toddies, this whole thing’s gotten a lot better! Ha ha! Although, to tell you the truth, the food can’t hold a candle to my wife’s cooking,” he added, trying to appear unassuming as he swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully, and you could vividly picture the discreet eye-roll your mother had answered him with. “Her green tomato pie is absolutely heavenly… Tell you what, Commander?!” he suddenly looked up, a mischievous glint appearing in his face, and while you didn’t know exactly what idea had crossed his mind, you certainly recognized the sparkle it had ignited in his eyes. “How about I show you my sincere appreciation with a proper dinner? Consider it a thank you for looking after our precious daughter.”

Your heart skipped a beat, hammering completely off rhythm against your ribs, the butterflies in your stomach swirling uncontrollably, creating a wave of nervous excitement that destructively washed over you. Surely, he couldn't be suggesting...

“I’m sure you’re a busy man, but I also know you are a highly intelligent one, which makes me think you have already assessed the situation, and identified this as probably the only opportunity you’ll have to enjoy my wife’s phenomenal cooking. In the nearby future, at least,” your father declared, leaning forward, his proposal making your stomach clench tighter.

Your gaze flickered to the Commander. He was about to respond to your father, but paused to steal a glance at you, a silent question exchanged between your eyes, unspoken… yes, but you believed you understood.

"Father, that's not necessary! Commander Smith is much too busy—" you blurted out, the memory of the Commander’s dismissal of Angelika Wald’s invitation still fresh in your mind. And you weren’t brave enough to risk facing the same rejection. “He has a long journey back to the base and… needs to leave shortly after the reception.”

“Is that so?” your father asked crestfallen, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to the Commander, and you had to admit he wasn’t the only one feeling dejected over the situation. Even though it may seem you were a little too eager to discourage the dinner, in truth, you were just doing your job, making it easier for the Commander to decline unnecessary appointments.

“My duties require a swift return to the base indeed,” he interjected, his words awakening a dormant discomfort in your chest, a faint ache you felt guilty for even having. Of course, he had responsibilities waiting, a mountain of paperwork and a whole base relying on him, to be more precise. Not only that, but he had already generously given you Sunday free, insisting you spent the entire weekend with your family. What else could you ask of him? Nothing. Doing so would be selfish, an indulgence you couldn’t justify.

“But perhaps…” he added unexpectedly, leaving you momentarily breathless, “Perhaps I could manage to find a way to fulfill both my obligations and experience your wife’s legendary cooking?”

Your chest rose and fell in rapid motions, trying to keep up with the beating of your heart, which had been hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs just moments ago, and now soared with a lightness you had only felt when you were together with him… secluded in your imaginary cabin in the woods.

“Only if it wouldn’t be an inconvenience for her, of course,” the Commander clarified, gesturing towards your mother. “I wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality, sir, madam."

A radiant smile bloomed on your face, threatening to split your cheeks in two, as the weight of your earlier anxieties now seemed to melt away slowly, getting gradually replaced by a giddy anticipation that bubbled up exactly like the fizzy contents of the bottle you knew your father would pop open for dinner tonight. And you couldn't help but steal a glance back at the Commander, the warm smile he gave you in return held a knowing glint, a silent confirmation of your suspicions: He knew exactly how happy he was making you. And suddenly, although still a little guilty, you felt the uncontrollable need to hold his face in both hands and kiss him. Yet the image of what your mother would do following such events, quickly destroyed that notion.

“Nonsense. Allow us to treat you to the relaxed evening a hardworking gentleman like you deserves every now and then. Right, pumpkin?” your father said, turning to your mother for confirmation.

“Consider yourself most welcome this evening, Commander Smith,” she replied promptly, a subtle smile gracing her lips, and an inviting warmth unfolding in her voice, both very reminiscent of home. And you hoped the Commander could feel it too, you hoped he could understand: Just how welcome he was.

“Lovely! We shall expect you at the entrance within the hour, my Commander,” your father concluded, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. “Until then, please enjoy the remainder of the festivities.”

With that, he walked away with your mother for a final indulgence in refined mingling. As you watched their backs blend into the crowd, a soft smile played on your lips, cherishing the heartfelt kindness they had enveloped the Commander with. Maybe he needed it, maybe not, but you definitely wanted him to have it.

“So…” he leaned in to whisper in your ear once your parents were out of sight, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We overbake our pies…”

“I never said that,” you countered with a hint of innocence, meeting his gaze with the unwavering confidence typical of someone who has no secrets to hide. Although a mischievous grin betrayed your amusement. “I called it ‘enthusiastic baking.’ Mother may have taken some creative liberties with her interpretation,” you added, wrapping several biscuits in a cloth napkin for the carriage ride home.

“Surely, my Commander, the situation is as clear as day," your father's booming voice resonated from the tearoom at the other end of the hallway. Even if by the time it reached the kitchen, it had softened to a murmur, neither you nor your mother needed to understand the exact words in order to know what he was talking about. The sheer excitement in his tone was a dead giveaway. "The true power lies with a hidden hand, content to manipulate a puppet king while they themselves remain hidden in the shadows. Their motives you ask? One can only speculate.”

The conversation, which at this point risked becoming your father’s monologue, sharpened as you neared the end of the hallway, the crinkling of porcelain against your fingertips accompanying the sound of your heels against the floorboards.

“However, unlike that old gossip Hansel," your father chuckled, a hint of disagreement lacing his tone, "I believe the answer lies in preservation."

“If the public, or some foreign power were to set their sights on this so-called king…” your father continued, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper.

“The true royal family, whoever they may be, could remain untouched, veiled in secrecy and free to continue their reign… from the shadows,” the Commander interjected, and you arrived just in time to see a flicker of genuine curiosity cross his face. “I see your point, sir, a most intriguing notion indeed. This 'so-called king' would serve as a convenient buffer, deflecting any public discontent or potential threats aimed at the true power behind the throne.”

The Commander, you knew, had a liking for devouring dusty tomes on royal history. Did he, perhaps, find amusement in the conspiratorial air of the conversation? Or was there a spark of something deeper behind his words, a thirst for uncovering the truth about the hidden hand your father, and his own late father perhaps, believed controlled the Walls?

“Precisely, Erwin. I may call you by your given name, right?” Your father checked again, his question painting your cheeks warm shades of red. At some point between Lord Koch’s front door and your own, the Commander had been promoted from ‘my Commander’ to just ‘Erwin’, as if sharing a carriage ride automatically granted your father the right to address him by his first name.

As you placed the silver tray on the small table in front of them, you stole a glance at the Commander, curious to see his reaction, which came in the form of a smile, quietly playing at the corner of his lips as he inclined his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of your father's request.

“It’s a solid theory, wouldn’t you say?” the mischievous glint in your father's eyes hinted at a newfound understanding between them, perhaps forged over their shared interest in royal intrigue rather than whatever gratitude your father claimed he held towards the Commander for saving your life in the Forest of Giant Trees. “Now, here’s where Hansel and I disagree,” he continued, leaning forward in his chair with a conspiratorial air. “He thinks it's all about keeping information locked away, some dark secret they desperately want hidden,” he paused, clearly for effect, his gaze flickering around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers.

“A dark secret, sir?”

Your father nodded, leaning in even closer, his voice now a low rumble. “Hansel believes it’s about manipulating the very fabric of history itself. Imagine," he said, his eyes widening with a dark intensity, "rewriting the past to suit their needs, erasing any trace of their true origins or some terrible deed they committed."

He leaned back again, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Think about it. Controlling the past is the ultimate power, wouldn't you agree, Erwin? By messing with the records, they control what everyone knows, they keep people blind to the truth, forever dancing to their tune. Thank you, buttercup,” your father said when you added two cubes of sugar to his tea. You mockingly mouthed a silent ‘buttercup’ at the Commander across the table, who tried to hide an amused chuckle behind a raised teacup.

Despite his apparent amusement, however, you recognized the struggle flickering behind his eyes. Concern, perhaps. After all, royal calumny was supposed to have claimed the lives of many, including his own father. Or was it an even heavier burden? A reminder of all the unanswered questions he had voluntarily inherited from him, those haunting mysteries he had vowed to unravel on his behalf.

“Aren’t my daughter’s pastries fantastic?” your father boomed, switching the mood with a hearty laugh. “I think the Survey Corps kitchen could’ve used her talents more than your squad, wouldn't you agree, my Commander?” he joked, a proud smile splitting his face as he dunked the corner of a freshly-baked biscuit in his tea, “no dangerous expeditions for her, just pastries and biscuits for everyone at the headquarters. A win-win situation for each one of your soldiers, wouldn’t you say?”

The Commander dipped his head slightly, a barely perceptible smile gracing his lips for a fleeting moment before it vanished. He took a measured sip of his tea, his eyes locking with yours across the table before he murmured, in a voice so low it brushed only your ears, “Everyone except for one.”

A faint smile, almost imperceptible, tugged at the corner of your lips. Two. You answered in your head, a conversation flickering between the two of you without a single word spoken.

It was a secret message only he could decipher, similarly to how the hint of affection now hidden in his gaze was something only you could see. This was your secret language, born from shared peril on the field, one you had perfected through stolen glances, clandestine touches, and secretive moments like this.

“Goodness! I should invite Erwin more often!” your father jumped excitedly, his eyes widening at the sight of the overflowing platter your mother brought in. “I'd ask what the occasion is for all this hospitality, but it’s not every Saturday we have the Survey Corps commander over for dinner, is it?”

You chuckled as you carefully arranged the small pies your mother had brought on individual saucers, each one holding their very own miniature piece of sunshine: the vibrant yellow slice of tomato you had placed on top.

"Don't forget your vegetables, everyone," you teased, placing a dainty silver fork beside each pie.

Though they weren't exactly an everyday treat, tomato pies were a familiar comfort you enjoyed quite often. They were simple, nourishing, not particularly difficult to make, and your mother could practically whip them up in her sleep. Today, however, you understood your father’s surprise. His favorite treat was still familiar in taste, yet transformed in appearance, which you had taken special care with this afternoon, an unusual twist meant to be a delightful surprise for the Commander.

"These look fantastic, Madam," he remarked, taking the plate your mother was offering.

"All credit goes to her," she replied, her hand gesturing your way.

You met his gaze in the middle of the tearoom, another silent exchange passing between you as your lips offered him a small, furtive smile in return.

"A delectable surprise, indeed," the Commander said, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes before they returned to the pastry, his gaze leaving a lingering warmth on your skin as some sort of ‘thank you’ note, perhaps. And then, when he took a bite of the buttery, brandy-infused crust, and the taste made those same lines beside his eyes deepen, a quiet yearning started to bloom within your chest.

Here, in your parent’s tearoom, bathed in the gentle afternoon sunlight and the comforting scent of baking, he seemed a world away from the horrors he faced daily. This was the kind of life he deserved, wasn't it? Quiet, comfortable, a far cry from battles with flesh-eating giants and the mangled pile of bodies they left behind. An afternoon tea with a nice conversation, and a plate of perfectly golden, tomato-topped pies – these were the simple pleasures he rarely, if ever, experienced.

As you watched him savor the pie in quiet appreciation, a sting of possessiveness, sharp and unexpected, twisted in your gut, as you found yourself desperately wishing that you could be the one to create these peaceful moments for him, not just this once, but for a lifetime.

"Sir, Madam," he began suddenly, bringing you back from the sea of thought you drifted to ever so often, "your daughter has a real talent for making the simple appear..." He paused, letting his deep, husky voice please not only your ears, but a secret, sensitive path down your body—a path that, though hidden beneath your dress at the moment, he happened to know very well "...utterly delightful."

The steam escaping from the teapot wasn’t a match for the eager summer now burning between your legs; his lips, as well as the smirk tugging at them, acting as a delicious reminder, both tempting and frustrating, of a desire you couldn't indulge, not while your parents were present at least.

"Thank you, Commander," You answered, your eyes still indulging in the sweet curve of his bottom lip, “but it's truly not difficult when the produce is this beautiful," you said, gesturing towards the vibrant yellow decoration atop the pie. And it was true. The Lemon Blush were a gentle variety. Sweet, sunshine-colored things, their bottoms blushed in lovely sunset pink. “Truly a pleasure to work with," you finished, your smiling lips tainted with a bit of mischief that betrayed you weren’t referring to the fruit exclusively.

A soft chuckle escaped his in response. Like honey on a summer afternoon, you loved the way it lingered in the air: the sound of his laughter, a sweet reminder that beautiful things still existed, a melody you always replayed in your head, long after it was gone.

Still wearing the same smile on your lips, you settled beside your mother, whose vigilant eyes you suddenly became very aware of, and when you turned to face her, you were not met with her characteristic warmth, but with the unreadable mask she now wore over her features. Your entire face started to mirror the blush of the tomatoes themselves upon realizing she had been watching you intently, it was unclear how long, but it was certainly long enough to make your joyful demeanor falter, your smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Luckily for you though, your father, always blissfully immune to any type of awkward tension, unknowingly came to your aid with a hearty chuckle. "Don't let her fool you, Erwin. Most nights, it's a way simpler fare in this household."

You flashed him a playful glare, his intervention momentarily making you forget about the weight settling within you.

“Seems ages since my darling daughter graced us with her culinary flair. Last winter, wasn’t it? Can you believe it? Ha! How long must a poor old man wait for his sweet buttercup to spoil him again!” your father continued, a touch of mock-hurt in his voice, and your eyes involuntarily rolled at his words.

“Admittedly, it was a special occasion back then too,” he conceded, his voice adopting that pretentious tone he reserved for embellishing stories, for making them grander than reality. The playful glint in his eyes gave away the exaggerated version of whatever tale he was about to tell, even though his lips were yet to utter a single word. “Hansel’s nephew, a fine young lord, came to formally request my daughter’s hand in marriage,” he finished with a conceited smile, his mouth blissfully stuffed with cake and a large crumb clinging to his beard, sweetly oblivious to the way his words had dragged your heart to the very pits of your stomach.

next chapter

buy me a ko-fi☕️? ^^

taglist: @mysticalnightbeliever @aliasrising @elnyrae @mchlist @apts2000 @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @lucifers-nipple-piercing @karmabyfernando @thicc101q @shittyprofilebutfuckit @dilfenthusiast-union

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legend-the-dumb-jock · 10 months

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I'd love a transformation.

I'd fucking love to turn into a huge young bodybuilder with a tendency to reek of sweat and belch uncontrollably.

There's only upsides to a transformation like this

You're wanting a change that so many others are wanting. The problem with your request is that your already doomed for this lifestyle anyway. You're just wanting to speed it up and i am more than happy to make that happen. You think its hard finding shoes o fit those clown-like feet now just wait till I am done. You'' wish for these days of the past.

A wave ripples through your apartment. Chairs becoming workout benches. College study bookings becoming a pile of weights. A sit up bar hanging on the wall and in the middle of the room is a bar for doing pull ups. Instantly the wave has transfers your apartment from being normal into an industrial style apartment that is more of a gym than anything. There are no chairs anymore. Only weight benches. Tv? Forget it. That’s turned into a punching bag. You’re kitchen. That’s going to be the smallest thing in your apartment. Now. You’re going to live off protein shakes and store bought grilled chicken and rice. Anything and everything g will be in the microwave for you. Anything to save space from the at home gym that is going. To be your home. Bed? Nah you’re going to sleep on gym mats now.

You may think it harsh but all these changes are necessary for you to become the muscle addicted muscle beast destiny is going to force on you now.

You’re not even aware that all this happened to your apartment. You’re in the middle of a college exam when your vision gets slightly blurry. Going slightly off and you chuckle slightly. Drool slips from your mouth and you don’t even notice that time is ticking by while your head only gets foggier and foggier. You aren’t even aware that your body begins to pack on muscle. You’re terms quickly splitting the sleeves on your shirt while you abs bulbs from your stomach. Your chest form a perfect shift while you are shifted pears as not only your spine lengthens but your butt plumps up. Your shoulders round out and your jaw begins to square while the your hair begins to get blonder. You can’t even help when you start to burp. Stumbling to the front of the glass to hand you test i while your shoes split open and you pants split. Your shirt rips off your body and you belch in the teachers horrified face. Yeah. You’re getting kicked out for good this time.

You have to walk back to your apartment in your underwear. But the whole time your body is still changing. You made a wish to be young. Muscled. Roided. And you’re going to have just that. Being 21 and having enough roids in your system to power a football team should do it. Your back spasms as it grows even wider than it was before. Every muscle all the way down to your butt pulsating as it growing larger. Making you an absolute freak of a muscle mass.

Your feet spasm as they finally break free of the remanned of the socks and shoes. Bursting past the size 15 enclosures they were stuck in before and only stopping when then reach a massive size 20. And boy do they itch. Sweat. And smell. Your dumb brain so overloaded with all the muscle and smell you’re not even sure what to do with your self as you continue to burp nonstop. And it’s disgusting protein burps. Protein bar wrappers litter the floor of your apartment and stick to your massive feet while you walk across the floor to the weight machines and begin to workout. You’re finishing your chest pump and you head to a machine when you feel some pressure building from your stomach. And without warning you belch the louder and hardest you ever have. When doing so you stomach bloats out into a roided muscle gut. You try to suck it in but you can’t.

Working your abs only proves to make the muscle gut harder and stick out more. You can barely bend down to reach you large clown like feet now just to pull the dirty food wrappers of them. Your gut churns. Demanding you feed your massive roided frame and in the makeshift kitchen you make a whole blender full of protein shakes. Moaning in ecstasy as the protein makes the pain disappear. In a mirror you’re flexing and looking at your massive 7ft tall roofed body. You continue drinking your shake until it’s done and you let out a loud nasty protein burp. You make it to the counter just in time though because then your body began to tense again. You could feel it. You look down and you muscles your bulking bigger! Wonder. Making your heavier than you can have ever imagined. At this point you can even see your feel anymore from your chest and gut being in the way. You’re breathing heavy from all the mass weight you down. All the mass making you struggle to walk. Making you struggle to do the simplest tasks. And what worse is that you’re already hungry again. And only the protein shakes that make you larger will be able to make the pain go away.

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

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Hearrrrrrr me out...a steamy, smutty Eddie fic based off of "Fire Up the Night" by New Medicine. Every time I hear it, I think of reader just...ruining Eddie 🫠

A/N: I'm sorry it took me awhile to get to this. It takes me time with certain requests. I hope this fits what you imagined. I started writing one thing and then went the other way and then started over again lol Idk.

Warnings: Passionate (slight rough) smut, choking, spanking, daddy kink (cause I'm me), edging, etc :)

Word Count: 1395

Eddie Asks

Eddie groans, pulling at the handcuffs that have him chained to your headboard as your tongue runs along the tattoo on his chest.

“Aw. What’s the matter, rockstar? You don’t like a little baby like me teasing you?”

“Keep on playing, little girl, and I’ll make you regret it.”, he threatens as he leans forward to capture your lips right as you giggle and pull away.

“How are you going to do that in this position?” You smile as you dip your fingers into the waistband of your panties and begin rubbing circles against your clit. “I don’t need you to make me cum, rockstar. See?”

“No one, not even you, can make you cum as hard as I can. You need me, sweetheart.”

You continue to laugh as you lean your forehead over his, your moans warming his lips.

“Prove it.”

Eddie wakes up with a start…and a massive hard on.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”, he growls as he searches for his sweats and some shoes. “This girl is going to fucking kill me.”

***

You didn’t hear the front door open but you vaguely caught the pounding of feet on the stairs before the bathroom door flew open and your shower curtain was pulled back.

“Eddie! Jesus Christ! What are you—”

His lips cut you off as they feverish dance with yours and he wraps you up in his embrace while climbing in. The metalhead’s tank and pants stick to his skin but he doesn’t care. All that matters is the taste of your tongue as it glides along his own. Resting his arm on the tile beside your head, you both moan as he grinds his bulge against your core.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his heated kisses trail to your neck.

“F-Fuck, Eddie, baby. Please.”

Roughly, he spins you around, pressing your face against the tile as he digs into his soaking sweatpants to pull out his cock. You both groan as he teases your folds with his tip, gliding it through your slick as he watches with pure delight. Abruptly, he smacks your ass but before you can even register it, he guides himself into your entrance.

With one hand grasping your shoulder and the other resting on your stomach, he sets an animalistic pace. With no foreplay, he’s stretching your walls more so than he normally would but you can’t help to enjoy the slight sting as it’s followed by him hitting your sensitive spot with just as much force.

“Eddie, that-that feels…oh my god. It’s too much.”

The metalhead’s breath warms your ear as he leans his chest onto your back.

��You can take it, baby. Tell me how good my dick feels.”

“So…so good. Eddie, PLEASE! I’m gonna…”

The hand on your tummy slides down between your legs making you whimper as he rubs circles against your clit.

“What are you gonna? You gonna cum, baby girl?” Nodding, you roll your hips back against his own, your mouth falling open as you came. “Fuck—that’s a good girl. Make a mess on my cock.”

He continues to pound into you till he feels your body stop trembling against his. Hastily, he pulls out and you whine at the loss. After turning off the shower, he yanks off his wet clothes, leaving them behind as he collects you in arms and carries your dripping wet frame to your bed.

Falling back first, he maneuvers your body till your knees are on either side of his head and he pins you still with his limbs securely wrapped around your waist.

You jolt as his tongue licks a stripe between your lips and you feel him smirk at your sensitivity. As Eddie’s mouth wraps around your clit, your eyes roll as you lean back into his hold.

“Honey…I…”

When your eyes opened again, they met his as he watched your body shake and move above him.

“Look at you…fucking falling apart…on just my tongue.”, he teases between long flicks. “No one can make you feel as good as I do, baby. Not even you.”

Your breathy giggle catches his attention as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair and lightly tug it back.

“Aw. Was poor rockstar feeling insecure? Needed to prove to his baby that he’s better than a vibrating machine?” A wicked grin spreads across your face before you say the one thing you know will rile him up more. “I didn’t know my Daddy needed that validation.”

Those beautiful brown eyes you love promptly set ablaze as he pushed you up and climbed on top of you, pinning you to the mattress by your wrists.

“I don’t need validation, sweetheart. I just need to make sure you understand that all your pleasure comes from me.” There’s a defiance in your gaze that, if possible, makes him harder. He enjoys picking you apart and you know it allowing him to any chance you get.

You both groan as he guides his cock into your body and thrusts into you with a rough abandon that has your toe curling. Eddie’s teeth dig into that sweet spot on your neck making you whimper as you push back against his hold.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t stop.”

As the coil in your stomach winds, he feels your pussy tighten around him and he grunts at the feeling before abruptly pulling out of you.

“Shit.”, Eddie moans as he taps your bundle of nerves with his length causing you to jump.

“Please…Please, Daddy. I want to cum again.”

With a big tooth filled grin, he glides his tip through your arousal watching with a giddy pride as you beg and tremble in front of him.

“Kind of greedy, sweetheart. Didn’t I make you cum in the shower?” Gripping the base, he slides his cock into you before pulling all the way back out, chuckling as your cunt constricts trying to keep him inside of you. Leaning over you, his palm takes hold of your throat and lightly squeezes as he grinds his dick between your legs. “You know what Daddy wants to hear, baby girl.”

“No one—mmm—no one can make me fell as good as you. Not—fuck—not even me.”

With his free hand, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and pushes it to your chest as he enters you once again.

“Who do you belong to, Y/N?” In this position, he’s so deep inside of you that you can’t even fathom words to respond. “Come on, princess. You can do it. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Y-You…Eddie.”

“Good girl, sweetheart.”, he coos as he slams his hips into yours. “Good girl. You feel so fucking good. Cum for me pretty girl.”

His pace quickens, his eyes never leaving your face as your pussy tightens around him and you cum hard around him. Releasing his hold on you, his head falls into the nook of your neck as he chases his high, grunting expletives as he fills you up.

Eddie doesn’t immediately move, panting against your skin as your arms circle around him and he feels you run your fingers through his hair.

“So, do you want to talk about it or was I just lucky?”

His belly shakes as he laughs, pushing up on his elbows as he looks down at you with nothing but care.

“I had a dream about you.”

“Oh? A good dream?”

“Always when it comes to you.”

Grinning, you crane your neck to kiss his lips. You wince as he pulls out, collecting you in his arms as he takes you back to your shower, and moves his damp clothes out of the way.

Standing under the hot water, he holds you to him as his he tenderly kisses your lips.

“You know if you moved in with me, I wouldn’t have to break down your door so late.”

“Eddie Munson, is that your way of asking me to come live with you?”

“Maybe.”, he teases making you giggle. “I miss you when you aren’t with me. And not just sexually. I mean…I just I love you…I feel less lonely…happy.”

Hearing him stumble over his words has you blushing as you guide his lips back down to yours.

“Ok.”

“Yeah?”, his voice cracks in excitement as he hugs you close.

“Of course. I’m yours until you die, rockstar.”

#eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn stranger things #fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #writing requests

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corpsebasil · 4 months

Note

Oooh I’d love an arranged marriage au where the reader hasn’t been married by any other foreign princes (she’s a princess on her grand tour) and she comes to ravka jaded and bitter. (This can be set during the original trilogy in a version where the sun summoner has never come back). She meets Nikolai at a ball during siege and storm and the two of them go from enemies to lovers…. 👀. Along the way it could turn out that she’s the sun summoner but because of her severely internalized trauma, she *cant* show her powers.

Ooooooh Pookie

^^ sorry but this man is so Nikolai coded it’s insane . No offense Patrick Gibson but these blond men are starting to get to me

This one’s gonna be short but I want to get to the point, sorry. Your backstory was good just pretend mine fits. LOL

Warnings: none just fluff

Months on tour. Months. That’s how long you’ve been gallivanting around the continent in search of a future King consort. The only option, it seems, to your chagrin, is the wild, witty, and annoyingly gorgeous Prince Nikolai.

“Come running back?” He asks nonchalantly one evening after he casually burst into your chambers like he owns the place. Your eye twitches from where youre sitting at your vanity, the blond collapsing dramatically on top of your bed. “Miss me too much? I missed you, too.”

“Please keep your shoes off the bed.” You snap, applying moisturizer with violence as he toes off one shoe, then the other, and props his chin on his hands, kicking his feet in the air like a child. “Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Sure, but you’re the most fun.”

“Saints, save me.”

“No Saints here, love. Just me.”

When you turn and throw a makeup brush at his head he dodges, grinning like a fiend as you roll your eyes.

You’ve known Nikolai for years. Since you were children he taunted and teased you, pulling on your pigtails and stealing the last bites of your desserts. Now though, he seems different. Sure he’s still annoying but, after forcing yourself to deal with him courting you, you noticed the changes.

Instead of pulling on your hair, he holds your hands when helping you out of carriages, off horses, and up or down any flights of stairs. He keeps a hand on the small of your back when you move through crowds, his witty remarks kept low so only you can hear them. Instead of stealing your desserts he saves you the last bite, casually sliding his plate an inch or so towards you without even glancing over.

He plays with your hair during meals or boring meetings, wrapping a strand around his finger and tugging twice, gently, as if a signal that he’s thinking of you, that he’s by your side, that he takes this tour seriously.

“Can we end the theatrics and admit you like me?” He asks from the bed, stretching out like a lazy housecat as he watches you finish up your skincare and stand. His serene smile grows as you approach, planting your hands on the bed to peer down over him.

“I do not like you.” You say sweetly, then gasp when he hooks an arm around your waist and tugs you down next to him, practically nose to nose.

“Stop lying.” He groans, amused when you wiggle and squirm (you’re barely trying to escape) before you finally let out a huff and collapse, head propped on his bicep when he tugs you closer. His blue eyes are glittering with something like adoration when he pokes your cheek, marveling at the smoothness. “You look like a snail ran all over your face.”

“How sweet of you.” You scoff, poking his cheek in return. “Your skin is dry. Who’s taking care of you?”

“Hopefully you.” At your raised brow he grins again, rolling you on top of him so he’s lying beneath you, gazing up. Shockingly enough, though his grip has loosened, you don’t move away. “Come on, Y/N. We both know you’ll be happy with me. I make you laugh.”

“You give me stomach pains.”

“That’s love.”

“It might be a tape worm.”

“Y/N.” He sighs and pulls you closer, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “This is no way to treat your future King.”

“Consort. King Consort.”

“So you agree.”

“Nik—”

“Hmm?” He lifts his head a fraction of an inch, touching the tip of his nose to yours. When your breath hitches, he smiles. “There she is..” he murmurs, satisfied, and pulls your mouth down to his.

You melt into the kiss.

He’s mine mine MINE

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfic #fluff

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narcissarina · 7 months

Text

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon ||

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 873

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 3:

THE MOON

I sat on my chair, legs crossed and seeing Mr. Parfez all beaten up, nose damaged and a severe cut on his legs. As far as I could count, my men stabbed him twenty-eight times on his thigh, used a knife and cut his cheeks—making his smile much wider and disturbing. Blood all over the tiles and how he is pleading for his life. Cigarette in hand, I puff out a smoke and stood up, using the end of my shoe—I lift his chin up.

Holy shit he looks horrible, this would be very horrifying for my girl.

I puff out another smoke and tilt my head to the side, his eyes met mine and I tap an excess cigar on him, he yells in pain and I push my remaining cigar into his eyes as he bleeds out in my hand—he tried to back out, lift my feet up and step on his chest to make him fall back in to the cold tile full of his blood. His screams can be heard in every corner of this fucking torture chamber of a room. I love how it’s also soundproof, no one can hear his cries for help and how much he pleads for mercy.

But I show neither sympathy nor mercy.

This if the price he must pay after making a fool out of myself, after scamming and breaking our contract like that. He fucking deserves it.

After pushing my remaining cigar to his eyes, he neither moves or struggles. He was dead, I killed him and I don’t feel a thing.

I stood up, and oh my fucking god. Blood all over my attire, fuck!

“Clean this up, and if you all fucked up cleaning this corpse, you all will ended up dead like him.” I snapped and they started moving.

Snapping my finger and one of my men came to me, “Report.” I spoke, he has a mullet cut and ash blonde hair, his tone flat as he speaks, he tells me her full name first and I smiled wickedly.

A beautiful name equals to a beautiful lady.

“She just recently graduated college and with her and her friends family support, they put up a café. She also has two siblings, she’s the middle child.” He reported, his tone loud and clear. I gave him a nod as he handed a file to me, I flip and turn pages full of her personal background.

Her birthday, her hobbies, favorite colors, pets, names of family members, her exes, what degree she graduated, who are her enemies, and more. A picture of her when she’s a child captured my attention, my fingers glide to it as if I were caressing a little girl that grown to be a wonderful and carefree woman.

Too bad she wouldn’t be carefree when she discover who I am.

Hacking one of her cameras are too easy, her surveillance in the café and her own home. She lives in a butt-fuck nowhere where forest surrounds her house. In her papers, it said that she has deep love for nature and how the smell of the leaves brings comfort to her.

Naughty girl, doesn’t she know that many people had gone missing because of houses like this? Tortured, raped, harassed, and more. Tsk, tsk, luckily she’ll have my protection every now and then. I don’t want someone lying their hands on my girl, no one.

There she is, lying on her bed with phone in hand—she doesn’t know that I’m watching her. Why did she install a camera in her bedroom? I laugh on how oblivious she is, hackers can easily hack her cameras then they either can sell her or their footage on the dark web.

I see her, in only in her thongs and fitted shirt, she walks around almost naked in her own home—well, she is surrounded by the green trees, no one can see her—she thought she is free exposing herself in just thongs.

My eyes lingers on the screen, I could feel my cock twitch and throb under the fabric of my pants. How it begs to be buried deep in her pussy, how much I want to penetrate her—to fuck her senseless.

Lost in wild thoughts, a voice came into my small earpiece, “Sir?” it called, I turn away from my computer screen, lean back and light up a cigar.

“speak.”

“I have reports on the missing children, and a leaked video.” He spoke, my attention snatched and my body stiffen, “leaked video?” I repeated and he confirms.

“These fuckers are sick in the head, even targeting helpless women aren’t enough.” I curse under my breath, my blood boils knowing that they even target little kids.

Sick wild motherfuckers.

“There is also an update for sir Niro, would you like me to send it to you?” he asked, I sigh and clenched the light up cigarette in my hand. It burns but it didn’t hurt I have my gloves on.

I nod and turn back to my computer screen, I nodded and have my mind relax when I see her lovely face in the screen, checking the surveillance.

I should probably keep my distance… for now.

Link:

Chapter 4: THE SUN

#genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #Mafia!Scaramouche #Mafia!Scara #genshin smut #Darkened Desires Series #dark romance #Sorry if the this chaoter is short TT #I'll try harder next time:(

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ellethespaceunicorn · 6 months

Note

Helllooooo!!! I hope you're having a good day!! 💕💜✨

Can I submit a prompt where Lloyd calls in his normally mousey assistant on one of her off days and is blown back by her casual attire? Maybe she's on her way out of hang with the girls and she's got her hottie/freekum dress/attire on.

Bonus if she is as completely I bothered as she normally is and even teases him a bit for his audacity 😈😈

I appreciate you're brain and the time you spend sharing it with us!! ☺️💕💜

Hi nonny!! So sorry this took so long, but here it is! And just as a warning, this one is a doozy and I will not be earning bonus points based on your ask.

Is getting negative points a thing?? (Because this thing went off the rails...)

Title: Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

Warnings: horrible boss Lloyd, pet name (Mouse), power imbalance, multiple threats of violence, non-con, forced oral sex (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, forced hand job (m receiving), dub-con p-in-v intercourse, vaginal creampie, forced oral sex (m receiving), oral creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: I apologize to nonny who asked for something (I think) completely different. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’re at home getting ready to go out with the girls. It has been ages since you had a free night to let your hair down. But tonight was the night.��

You made sure to ditch the wool sweaters, drab colors, and sensible shoes that you usually wear to work. Instead, you opt for a form-fitting pinstripe dress that ends just above your knee. Large hoop earrings push through your hair and demand attention. Your feet are covered in strappy heels that are cuter than they are comfortable.

But beauty is pain, no?

Just as you are exiting your apartment and entering your car, your phone buzzes. You pull your phone from your purse and growl at the text message from your boss.

Your boss, your reason for migraine medication, the bane of your existence. Lloyd Hansen. Getting an internship with Hansen Government Service was supposed to be a summer gig to help you pay for odds and ends during your last year at college. But no, you had to go ahead and impress the CEO with your problem-solving and the way you covered your former boss’ ass one too many times.

And now here you are, the personal assistant to this deplorable caricature of a human being. Amazing vision and dental benefits aside, you were the glorified babysitter to a sociopath with an inferiority complex. But you keep your mouth shut and your head down because you know where your bread is buttered.

The text from Lloyd is still sitting in your inbox unread one minute later when your phone starts to ring. You were hoping he would think you were asleep or something, but you remember Lloyd doesn’t observe normal business hours. And he doesn’t give a shit if you have a day off either.

“Yes, Sir,” you answer with Lloyd’s preferred moniker.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” he asks, his annoyed tone unmistakable.

“I apologize for not being available to you, Sir. What can I help you with?” you acknowledge, wanting him to get to his point of bothering you.

“Hmmm. I’m gonna ignore you being rudely polite. For now. Need you to get my dry cleaning, Mouse,” he advises, using that nickname that boils your blood.

“Sir. It’s almost 9 p.m. Are the dry cleaners still open?” you wonder aloud.

“I called them, and they agreed to re-open so that I could get my shirts. Wasn’t that nice of them? You don’t wanna keep that sweet old lady waiting this late at night, do you?” he persuades, a sinister chuckle sending a chill down your spine.

“I will pick up your shirts for you, Sir,” you question.

“Had to pull a late night at the office, but I’m leaving now. Meet me at my place, Mouse,” he replies.

“Yes, Sir,” you say, holding back the urge to scream in his ear and ending the call.

By being at the office, he is within walking distance of the shop where his clothing is being held.

Deep breaths. Don’t let him take your joy.

You pass your office building and veer into the small shopping center. Stepping into the shop, you realize you don’t have a ticket, but you also know that the place is staying open for only one reason.

“You here to pick up Hansen?” The old woman behind the counter smiles at you and you nod stepping over to her, “Very particular, that one. Don’t let him work you too hard, honey.”

“Oh, thank you,” you greet, smiling when she handed over the hangers of shirts covered in plastic material, “May I just apologize for him keeping you open past your hours?”

Before you can apologize, the sweet woman comes around the counter and pats your hand.

“How long are you going to apologize for him? Just go home, honey. And good luck with that one,” she reasons, and she scoots you out of the store before you can tell her that you’re only his assistant, not his long-suffering wife.

You give up trying to explain yourself and turn around to get back in your car. With the shirts hung in the back seat, you speed until you get to Lloyd’s gated community. Pushing in the code to the outer gate, you squirm in your seat as the gate slowly opens.

Driving through streets with pretentious names, you end up at the cul-de-sac where his McMansion sits center-stage among the other Stepford homes. You park next to his vehicle in the spacious driveway, a BMW M8 Competition Convertible in Alpine White. Not a scratch on her sparkling surface.

You stuff down the urge to put a scratch on his car because he will notice it. He notices everything. And with the level of neat freak that he is, he probably would notice a single fingerprint on the car’s hood.

Walking up to the door, you see the Ring camera and press the doorbell. The porch light comes on and the door opens to reveal your boss talking on the phone with one earbud in his ear. He pauses and looks you up and down before letting you walk in around him.

“I’m gonna have to go, something just came up,” he purrs, adjusting himself in the two seconds you were looking away from him. He pulls out his earbud, ending the call and turning his attention to you, “Mouse, glad you could make it, but you didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“I didn’t. Here are your shirts. Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you explain, holding his dry cleaning out so he can take them.

Once he reaches out, he bypasses the shirts, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. “Maybe there is one thing you can do for me, Mouse. It is quite a big job though,” he dares, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.

“Hmmm. Sir, I didn’t come all this way to do whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you warn, putting your hand on his chest to push him away as you feel his increased heart rate.

His eyes are dark, with barely any blue left in the iris. You can almost feel how hungry he is for you.

“Well, I was gonna say I wouldn’t mind a blowjob from those perfect glossy lips. But I think I wanna hear your mouth moan for me while I eat that pretty pussy instead,” he admits, taking the shirts out of your hand before hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Sir! No! Put me down, you fucking psycho. What are you doing?” you demand, pounding your hands on his back and landing a harsh blow directly to his ass.

“Fuck, Mouse! Hands to yourself, or I won’t keep my hands to myself, ok?” he cautions, surprising you with a hard slap to your ass, “And you got that wrong anyway, I’m technically a sociopath, not a psychopath.”

You’re in a state of stunned silence as he walks up the grand staircase in the room and brings you into a bedroom down the hall. You don’t have time to wonder what all of the other rooms are used for as you are dumped on his bed. The silk sheets underneath you are comfortable, but they seem creepy once you think about being thrown down on top of them. Before you can scramble off of the bed, Lloyd grabs you by the hips and traps you under his weight.

“Mouse, mouse, mouse. Why don’t you ever dress like this for me?” he breathes, his clothed erection nestled against your hip, “You wearing this for some asshole? Should call him up and tell him I got to you first.”

“Sir, please. I was just going to hang out with my girls. I promise I won’t say anything about this if you just let me go,” you whimper, your hands going to his chest again trying to push him away.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed. His nose takes in your RiRi perfume as it glides along your neck. Kicking your legs open, he nestles himself in between so he can rock his hips into you. Feeling his hardening dick against your panties as your dress rides up, he groans as he feels the heat coming off of you.

“Kinda funny you want me to let you go. But I bet if I dipped a finger into that cute snatch I know you have, I would find a little honey pot full of delicious sweetness waiting for me. Shall I test that out?” he counters. Holding both wrists in one giant hand as he trails a hand down your body until it disappears between you.

You feel his bruising fingers pushing your panties out of the way to find his prize. His touch turns almost delicate as the tips of his fingers find your wet pussy; your body’s betrayal is evident in the puddle forming on your netherlips. The look in his eyes when he finds what he’s looking for is bordering on sheer joy.

“There it is, Mouse. Just like I knew it would be,” he beams, pulling two fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and sucking them clean, “Fuck. I knew it would be delicious. You’re gonna sit on my face and give me all your sweet cream.”

He rolls your body over so that you are straddling him. You debate trying to scramble off of him, but he pinches your thigh and brings you back to the task at hand. You crawl up his body and hover over his face until he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down over his eager mouth.

Looking down at him, he looks serene with his eyes closed as he goes to work on your sensitive folds. For a while, you feel nothing when he licks up your slit. Circling your nub with his tongue, he moans when your clit twitches. When kitten licks against your clit turn to sucking it into his mouth, you can’t restrain the urge to grab a handful of his hair.

If he wants to hear you moan pretty for him, he’s gonna need to do better than this. You grind your pussy into his tongue and sigh when he sticks his tongue directly into your hole. Fucking into you with his tongue is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You tighten your fingers in his auburn hair, unable to hold back your orgasm for much longer. Visions of all the times he looked at you like you were a piece of meat flash before your eyes. The way all of his other assistants quit the job after short stints. And you just about gift-wrapped yourself for him tonight.

You should have never answered the phone. But it’s kind of hard to think about that now with the way your resolve is slowly slipping away. You feel the metaphorical rubber band being stretched to within an inch of its life. Until pop!

The wave of your climax washes over you like a warm blanket. Your keening whine is music to Lloyd’s ears as he holds you tighter when you try and extricate yourself from his grasp. He laps up everything you have to give him and makes obscene sucking and licking noises. Once he lets up on your pussy, he lets your weak body roll to the side on its own. You don’t notice you are crying until he licks away one tear.

He looks down at you as he wipes his mustache clean of your juices. “Every part of you tastes amazing, Mouse. Even your tears. Fuck, that’s so hot I got you crying for me,” he hums, wiping away your tears with a thumb as he lays next to your limp body.

You’re quiet as you lay in your boss’ bed, him having just defiled your body with his tongue. Not knowing what to think, your brain just replays everything trying to find where you went so wrong. Because not only was that an Earth-shattering orgasm but it was given to you by your boss. That kind of thing is frowned upon in most companies. But Lloyd is the CEO, are the rules different? You don’t have the time to keep thinking when Lloyd chimes in.

“Now, Mouse, I’m sure your brain is going a mile a minute. But let me make one thing clear: I am going to need you to come into work dressed just like this from now on. You wear something tight, something that shows off this body, something that I can pull up or down and fuck you in while we’re in the office,” he chuckles as you look over to him with tears in your eyes at your new fate, “We’ll put that into your contract. What do you think? From Personal Assistant to Fuck Toy. That’s a step up, huh?”

You say nothing, content to shed tears and wish that the Earth would open up and swallow you.

“Don’t be so gloomy. At least you got to come, unlike some of us. You can help me with that, can’t you Mouse?” he pleads, as if he didn’t just change your job title to fit your new duties. He unzips his pants, pulling out his thick length and reaching for your hand to wrap around it, “I won’t need much help. I could’ve blown in my pants like a fucking teenager when you came in my mouth.”

You wish his mouth would just fucking stop. You don’t need the commentary. You unenthusiastically jerk him off until he spills rope after rope of jizz painting your hand and his pants. At least he was right, he didn’t need much help.

“Good fucking job, Mouse,” he gushes, throwing an arm over his brow as he catches his breath, “Can’t wait to take that cunt for a test drive but I can wait until my balls are not so fucking empty. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”

You rise and walk into the attached bathroom all without a single thought in your head. You use the toilet, wash your hands, and splash water on your face. You avoid the mirror like the plague.

Coming back to the bedroom, you are greeted by Lloyd lying on his side and crooking a finger at you. You swallow your spit and take a deep breath, moving to join him on the bed.

Once there, you let him manhandle you in every position he wants. You close your eyes, wishing you were somewhere else. Until he has you on your back. He makes you stare into his eyes as he fucks you like the little puppet you are. When he takes you over the edge again, he doesn’t stop his onslaught until you beg him to stop.

But begging only drives him to go harder. Flesh slapping against flesh painfully until he pushes himself deep within you and stills. Every twitch and spurt felt inside of you like a slap to the face. You’re not on birth control and you fear asking if he is snipped but he speaks up before you can ask.

“I pay you enough to afford the morning-after pill, right?” he asks, his dick softening and sliding out of you.

Fucking asshole. The thought of murder crosses your mind more than once, but you know people might come looking for him. And the thought of having to trade in your freedom for a life behind bars makes you rethink killing this nutcase.

So, instead, you just say, “Yes, Sir.”

“Right. Good. Alright, well it’s not too late for you to go out with your friends. Don’t stay out too late, you have work in the morning. Bright and early, Mouse. I expect you to be there tomorrow,” he remarks, acting like he didn’t just use your body for his sick pleasure, “That means you’re good to go home now, Mouse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets off you, climbing off the bed and adjusting himself, pulling you up and escorting you to the front door. He all but pushes you out of the door into the night, as if you were trash. When you get back inside your car, your phone has tons of messages from your friends wondering where you are.

You send a mass text that you weren’t feeling well, and you needed rest. It wasn’t entirely untrue anyway. You make it back home, shedding your clothes as you walk to your bedroom. You pull back the covers and wrap yourself in warmth, willing the events of the night to just go away. But they don’t go away.

The next morning, you shower and dress like Lloyd wants. The looks of your coworkers cause heat to rise to your face. You don’t usually get this type of attention. Or any attention when you think about it.

When you get to Lloyd’s office, he is sitting behind his desk on a call, and he waves you over. You walk around his desk and see his pants are already unbuttoned and his half-chub is sticking out. You spare yourself the embarrassment of being asked and go right to work on him with your hands. Unsurprised when he puts a hand on the back of your head, you just lower yourself and take him in your mouth.

Little does he know; your head game is strong. And within about three minutes, you have him spasming down your throat. His softening cock is sensitive as you tease him by swirling your tongue around the head. He ends his phone call and holds your face in his hands.

“What’s my soul taste like, Mouse? I’m sure you sucked it right out,” he praises, his dazed eyes focusing on you while he catches his breath.

“If you had a soul, I’m sure it would taste as bitter as your cum,” you snap, uncaring of whether or not he was offended.

“Good point. Watch that pretty mouth, though. My precious feelings might get hurt. And then you might get hurt. So, play nice, Mouse,” he cautions, lightly clapping his hand against your cheek, just hard enough to jerk you out of misbehaving.

“Yes, Sir,” you sass, putting on a fake smile and Lloyd rolls his eyes, shooing you away.

You can do what he says, doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him in the slightest. And isn’t that the best way to get back at him? Give him everything he wants but with no enthusiasm. Of course, you know this little plan of yours won’t last long. But when you’re faced with a demon like Lloyd Hansen, you’ll take any little victory you can. As few and far between as they may be.

A/N: This got way out of hand. I don’t know what happened. Um, I’m not sorry though. Because I love this and if it ends up being just for me, then so be it.

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 3 months

Text

Flower power pall mall

A/N: Benedict’s flower waist coat made me do it… I mean look at it, don’t you just want to poke the embroidery? Set during season 2, episode 3. The Sharmas are visiting the Bridgertons and while everyone is set to win in a family with eight brothers and sisters, (Y/N) and Benedict are especially ruthless. (In my mind, (Y/N) is called Fleur which might give further context for the flower references.)

“Miss Edwina, you must know,” Benedict felt compelled to say with the typical crooked smirk on his lips, “that you should never place your ball anywhere near the one of (Y/N). Eloise is eager to win, but (Y/N) doesn’t even take notice of any one ball that is not her own.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at your brother’s comment. “Oh, please!”

“She’s already managed to make balls disappear on the roof,” Benedict continued, while he was circling you lazily. “And through certain windows.” The way you rolled your eyes at him merely made him pinch your nose.

“Once,” Colin added, “she even cracked mine in half with the force of her mallet.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” A slight blush crept over your cheeks as you glared at your two smirking brothers, quite embarrassed by them displaying your ruthless pall mall side in front of the Sharma sisters. To your surprise, they did not seem shocked in the least. Kate even nodded approvingly. “Then I shall manoeuvre your eldest brother’s ball quite close to yours at all times.”

You bit your lip to keep from barking out a laugh at Anthony’s expanse, but he was too busy glaring holes in your guest anyway. Benedict’s grin grew wide enough to reveal his “vampyre teeth” as Hyacinth tended to call them – quite the fitting description in your opinion, but one that had also incited your brother to attack his younger sisters in a fittingly vampiric manner. You had to smile at the memory of Hyacinth’s squeals whenever Benedict managed to blow a raspberry under her chin.

A mallet pushing against your shoulder blade brought you out of balance and made you stumble two steps forward, right into Benedict’s back. Exasperatedly you turned around to see Daphne put on an angelic smile. She merely raised her brows at your burning glare and put her mallet back down by her feet. “Would you make some space for Miss Edwina, sister! She gets to open the game.”

Grumbling, you made two extra big steps away from the field – and from Daphne – and pulled a disobedient strand of brown hair behind your ear. “You’ve definitely gotten meaner ever since you moved out!”

“Well, she no longer gets to tease you as often as we do,” Benedict pointed out, stepping closer to you and looking on as Miss Edwina Sharma got into position, exceedingly supported by Anthony.

“That must be really hard on her!” You said in a mocking tone, grabbing some of your dresses’ fabric to pull it out from underneath your shoes which almost led to you falling over had it not been for your brother’s stabilizing hand.

“I know it would be for me,” Benedict replied earnestly enough to make your lips twitch as you turned your head to look at the younger Sharma sister opening the game. He pulled you back slightly when the noise of mallet on ball rang over the grass and Miss Edwina’s ball got rather close to where you were standing.

“Are you holding her back?” Eloise chuckled, when she saw his hand on your arm. “Too scared she might run straight after the ball?”

With a disbelieving face you look looked up at him. “Are you??”

The laughing sound your brother made almost sounded a little scared. He let go off your arm immediately and raised his hands next to his head to show how innocent his intentions had been. “Of course not, I was trying to pull you out of harm’s way – the one you always somehow end up in! But by all means, get yourself knocked out by a pall mall ball next time!”

Benedict quickly moved away when you had to laugh at his words and tried to reach for him to restore the peace between you two. You chased after him for two steps, before you gave up, simply letting him jump back to Colin’s side, shaking your head at his antics and moving yourself to Eloise’s side.

The game had begun. And what a game it was. Daphne was too good to not earn her the conjoint mocking of you and Eloise, while Anthony was precise and focused as always, making everyone shake their heads at him. Benedict was too busy daydreaming and fooling around to have any real chance at winning, which was never truly his goal anyway. Colin was good enough at the game, but never gloated like Eloise did. You were getting on everyone’s nerves since you continuously held up your thumb for way too long to calculate the forces of the wind. You weren’t sure whether Edwina was having a lot of fun, while Kate seemed to be having the time of her life – especially, when Anthony was failing.

When you had the audacity to stretch out your thumb again the next time it was your turn, Benedict leaned over to blow air on your hand. You sent him an unimpressed look over your shoulder.

“Strong wind today,” he concluded with a shrug, making you extend your arm and push him against the chest.

“Remove yourself!”

Colin let out a surprised laugh. “That’s a bit harsh!”

“Are they always like this?” You heard Kate laugh, when Benedict tried to disturb your sight by holding a strand of your own hair in your face.

Anthony let out a long humming noise of agreement that managed to express not only many years of frustration caused by having you as his siblings, but also the deep affection that went with it. Kate sent him a curious glance.

“Stop it,” you protested and extended your hand to defend yourself, managing to brush a soft spot on Benedict’s stomach. He reacted with a little huff and quickly turned his upper body to the side, raising your attention. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit one of your flowers?”

The many flowers that were embroidered on Benedict’s waist coat had already given enough reason to ridicule him all morning, but they came especially in handy now that he was getting on your nerves. Actually, you thought them to be quite beautiful, but there was no reason to feed your brother’s ego all too much by telling him that. Instead you extended your hand again and aimed for another one of them, hitting your target and poking it with precision. Benedict’s “vampyre grin” expanded on his features as he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ticklish sensation your little attack provoked on his torso.

“(Y/N)!” He giggled, slapping your hand away, but immediately seeing himself forced to bend over again, as your fingers continued to single out every single flower available on his waist coat to subdue him to a continuous attack of pokes all over his middle. It made your heart feel warm inside your chest to hear cheerful cackles pour out of him like leaking water. “Stop it, that tickles!!”

“Aww, does it?” You taunted, fully aware of how ticklish your brother was and not exactly eager to stop your attack on his huge body that shrunk in on itself more and more. Besides, he didn’t seem particularly set on escaping himself; more like he was seconds away from falling over and curling up into a ball on the grass. Benedict was truly just a playful child, no matter his actual age.

Anthony looked on fondly, but cleared his throat meaningfully. “May we get on with the game then, dear sister?”

Your eldest brother’s voice kicked you out of the meditative state Benedict’s giggles had put you in. “Oh, uhm, sure!” You called out, noticing how everyone was looking at you expectantly. Of course, it was your turn and they couldn’t simply continue the game without you having done your shot. Benedict was shaken by a few more giggles after your hand had ceased its attack and slowly unbent himself to stand back up to his full size. To be safe, you took advantage of him still being tickle-wobbly on his knees and pushed him once more to make him stumble a few steps away from you, before you took your mallet into both hands and quickly aimed at your ball.

Kate chuckled good heartedly and called to you. “Make haste, (Y/N)! I think your brother seeks revenge!”

That didn’t exactly help you focus on your shot; and it got worse, when you recognized a very familiar growling noise behind you. A hysterical sound left your lungs, when you dared a quick look over your shoulder and saw Benedict roll up his sleeves and come closer to you again. “That demands satisfaction!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, inching forward ever so slightly to get some distance between you two, without losing the control over your ball.

“Ugh, just hit it, (Y/N)!” Eloise sighed loudly, knowing exactly how this would play out.

But her advice actually made you act. You did as she said, you hit the ball. But in the wrong direction – towards your brother. Anthony and Colin burst out laughing, when Benedict got hit by your shot and took to wailing loudly. His mouth agape, he held his arm where your ball had stricken him and stared at you disbelievingly. “I cannot believe you just hit me!!”

Eloise had to hold on to Daphne’s arm to keep from falling over with laughter and Benedict’s glare in her direction promised certain retribution in the aftermath of this game. But for the time being, his gaze fell back on you. You, who were wise enough to having taken off over the field, before he could realize it.

“Oh ho ho, I see how it is!” Benedict yelled after you, a chuckle colouring his voice. Rubbing his arm, he turned around to the guests as formally as his playful soul allowed. “Excuse me, Myladies, I must quickly go after my sister and … retrieve her.” Anthony and Kate both raised a brow with amused expressions on their faces, as your brother turned around and immediately started chasing after you with a fear inducing sound.

You were already laughing too much to make wise steps on the grass with a dress that was constantly getting between your legs and underneath your shoes. The race that looked more like a stumbling newborn – you – being chased by a feral leopard – Benedict – could only have one possible outcome. The wind blew your hair in your face when you turned around to hold out your mallet and protect yourself against him. You saw Kate grinning at you two, while your siblings were getting on with the game, well acquainted with situations like these, where one brother would chase a sister.

Benedict’s blue eyes were glowing playfully as he extended his own mallet in your direction. “En garde!” Knowing full well that all that mattered was to keep him at a distance, you stumbled further backwards and threw your mallet at him to make him stay where he was. But he merely blocked the projectile with one arm and chuckled darkly at the attempt. “Now what?

You held up your hands and tried to form a normal sentence through your breathless laughter. “Now, let’s just talk about this!” But your brother preferred to snarl and bend over in a predatory way, before he ran right into you with his shoulder knocking against your middle to lift you off the grass. You squealed when you felt your feet leave the ground, your body slung over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you a sneaky little flower,” He chuckled as he turned around himself a few times, making your hands grab for the fabric of his jacket as the world whirled around you. Then he made himself fall on the grass on purpose, dropping you before him and rolling over you. “Let’s see how she likes being tickled!”

You kicked, hit, smacked, pushed and twisted as hard as you could, hysterical laughter taking your breath away, but Benedict managed to jab his fingers into your sides nevertheless. He knew exactly where it tickled the most, having put you in a similar position many times in your life. It was truly not fair, how you were already wheezing with laughter after two seconds. “NO PLEASE NO!”

“I protect you from pall mall ball attacks and this is the thanks I get?” He shouted over your bubbly laughter, smirking down at you, as his hands danced over your sides.

“You’re a – BABY!!” You exclaimed through your helpless laughter and tried to pull his hands away from your sides, which only led to Benedict searching for more ticklish spots on your ribs.

“You really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?” He gasped, quite impressed by your willingness to provoke him even further while he was in the perfect position to make you pay for it. You threw your head back and tried more frantically to push his hands away, when they started crawling over your belly, hitting mean spots that made you shriek with laughter.

“StOOOHP!!”

“Oh no, I don’t think my little flower has already had enough!” He taunted, trying push his head past your flailing arms to make his teeth’s nickname proud yet again. You protected your neck at all costs, but the fingers that wiggled into your weak spots distracted you too much to be successful. The laughter seemed to come straight from your heart when his lips made contact with your neck.

“BEN PLEASE NO!!” You squeaked with mirth, your feet hitting the ground behind your brother. He was ruthless with his raspberries, while your hands were pushing helplessly against his immobile chest. Benedict used that to his full advantage and let his hands wander to poke your sides untethered alongside the ticklish treatment of your neck. You were lost to helpless laughter. Benedict’s head moved up and away from your neck, a smug, tickle-drunk smile on his face. “Do you give up?”

You tried to free your hands from where they were pinned between the two of you, tossing your head from left to right to negate his question, but regretting it immediately when he shrugged good-naturedly and blew another raspberry under your ear. “OKAY!” You squealed. “PLEASE, I GIVE UP, I DOO!!”

You gasped in relief when your brother’s fingers finally slipped away from your sides and his weight shifted off you. Groaning he rolled over on his back and squinted his eyes against the sun to smirk at you wheezing next to him.

“Flowers,” he mused, “they are so delicate and sweet!”

You turned your head to glare at him and proceeded to hit his shoulder with your fist, but you had to laugh nevertheless. “If that were true, you could have never tickled me that hard!”

“Oh,” Benedict scoffed, tilting his head meaningfully, “that wasn’t hard. I was being gentle!” He poked your side again, making you yelp and grab for his wrist. You were about to protest, but then you recalled the times Anthony had tickled Benedict and you had to agree that Benedict had in fact been gentle with you…

Huffing about the two of you, you kept his wrist in your grip and put his hand on your stomach, wrapping both of yours around his. “What would I do without you?” You sighed, inching closer to his side and pulling at his arm to get it to move around you. He chuckled softly and did as you wished, pulling you close to him and keeping you there with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“You would probably do just fine, (Y/N).”

“Yes,” you replied, before resuming the poking of the embroidered flowers on his waist coat, “but I would miss you terribly!”

Benedict twitched and threw his head back against the ticklish sensations that you were spreading over his middle again, little titters of laughter shaking him as he tried to get a hold of your hand. “No no, I can’t! Truce, truce!!”

Anthony’s voice rang through to you from the other end of the field. “Ben, (Y/N), are you giving up, or what?”

You stilled your hand and found your brother’s gleaming blue eyes.

“Never!!” You exclaimed simultaneously and stumbled to your feet, grabbing your mallets and returning to the others to resume the game. You would show him how delicate a flower you were.

But the way Benedict looked at you with fondness actually made you understand quite clearly: you would always be his little flower.

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