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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Greenwashing set Canada on fire

On September 22, I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

As a teenager growing up in Ontario, I always envied the kids who spent their summers tree planting; they'd come back from the bush in September, insect-chewed and leathery, with new muscle, incredible stories, thousands of dollars, and a glow imparted by the knowledge that they'd made a new forest with their own blistered hands.

I was too unathletic to follow them into the bush, but I spent my summers doing my bit, ringing doorbells for Greenpeace to get my neighbours fired up about the Canadian pulp-and-paper industry, which wasn't merely clear-cutting our old-growth forests – it was also poisoning the Great Lakes system with PCBs, threatening us all.

At the time, I thought of tree-planting as a small victory – sure, our homegrown, rapacious, extractive industry was able to pollute with impunity, but at least the government had reined them in on forests, forcing them to pay my pals to spend their summers replacing the forests they'd fed into their mills.

I was wrong. Last summer's Canadian wildfires blanketed the whole east coast and midwest in choking smoke as millions of trees burned and millions of tons of CO2 were sent into the atmosphere. Those wildfires weren't just an effect of the climate emergency: they were made far worse by all those trees planted by my pals in the eighties and nineties.

Writing in the New York Times, novelist Claire Cameron describes her own teen years working in the bush, planting row after row of black spruces, precisely spaced at six-foot intervals:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/15/opinion/wildfires-treeplanting-timebomb.html

Cameron's summer job was funded by the logging industry, whose self-pegulated, self-assigned "penalty" for clearcutting diverse forests of spruce, pine and aspen was to pay teenagers to create a tree farm, at nine cents per sapling (minus camp costs).

Black spruces are made to burn, filled with flammable sap and equipped with resin-filled cones that rely on fire, only opening and dropping seeds when they're heated. They're so flammable that firefighters call them "gas on a stick."

Cameron and her friends planted under brutal conditions: working long hours in blowlamp heat and dripping wet bulb humidity, amidst clouds of stinging insects, fingers blistered and muscles aching. But when they hit rock bottom and were ready to quit, they'd encourage one another with a rallying cry: "Let's go make a forest!"

Planting neat rows of black spruces was great for the logging industry: the even spacing guaranteed that when the trees matured, they could be easily reaped, with ample space between each near-identical tree for massive shears to operate. But that same monocropped, evenly spaced "forest" was also optimized to burn.

It burned.

The climate emergency's frequent droughts turn black spruces into "something closer to a blowtorch." The "pines in lines" approach to reforesting was an act of sabotage, not remediation. Black spruces are thirsty, and they absorb the water that moss needs to thrive, producing "kindling in the place of fire retardant."

Cameron's column concludes with this heartbreaking line: "Now when I think of that summer, I don’t think that I was planting trees at all. I was planting thousands of blowtorches a day."

The logging industry committed a triple crime. First, they stole our old-growth forests. Next, they (literally) planted a time-bomb across Ontario's north. Finally, they stole the idealism of people who genuinely cared about the environment. They taught a generation that resistance is futile, that anything you do to make a better future is a scam, and you're a sucker for falling for it. They planted nihilism with every tree.

That scam never ended. Today, we're sold carbon offsets, a modern Papal indulgence. We are told that if we pay the finance sector, they can absolve us for our climate sins. Carbon offsets are a scam, a market for lemons. The "offset" you buy might be a generated by a fake charity like the Nature Conservancy, who use well-intentioned donations to buy up wildlife reserves that can't be logged, which are then converted into carbon credits by promising not to log them:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/12/fairy-use-tale/#greenwashing

The credit-card company that promises to plant trees every time you use your card? They combine false promises, deceptive advertising, and legal threats against critics to convince you that you're saving the planet by shopping:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/17/do-well-do-good-do-nothing/#greenwashing

The carbon offset world is full of scams. The carbon offset that made the thing you bought into a "net zero" product? It might be a forest that already burned:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/11/a-market-for-flaming-lemons/#money-for-nothing

The only reason we have carbon offsets is that market cultists have spent forty years convincing us that actual regulation is impossible. In the neoliberal learned helplessness mind-palace, there's no way to simply say, "You may not log old-growth forests." Rather, we have to say, "We will 'align your incentives' by making you replace those forests."

The Climate Ad Project's "Murder Offsets" video deftly punctures this bubble. In it, a detective points his finger at the man who committed the locked-room murder in the isolated mansion. The murderer cheerfully admits that he did it, but produces a "murder offset," which allowed him to pay someone else not to commit a murder, using market-based price-discovery mechanisms to put a dollar-figure on the true worth of a murder, which he duly paid, making his kill absolutely fine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy

What's the alternative to murder offsets/carbon credits? We could ask our expert regulators to decide which carbon intensive activities are necessary and which ones aren't, and ban the unnecessary ones. We could ask those regulators to devise remediation programs that actually work. After all, there are plenty of forests that have already been clearcut, plenty that have burned. It would be nice to know how we can plant new forests there that aren't "thousands of blowtorches."

If that sounds implausible to you, then you've gotten trapped in the neoliberal mind-palace.

The term "regulatory capture" was popularized by far-right Chicago School economists who were promoting "public choice theory." In their telling, regulatory capture is inevitable, because companies will spend whatever it takes to get the government to pass laws making what they do legal, and making competing with them into a crime:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/13/public-choice/#ajit-pai-still-terrible

This is true, as far as it goes. Capitalists hate capitalism, and if an "entrepreneur" can make it illegal to compete with him, he will. But while this is a reasonable starting-point, the place that Public Choice Theory weirdos get to next is bonkers. They say that since corporations will always seek to capture their regulators, we should abolish regulators.

They say that it's impossible for good regulations to exist, and therefore the only regulation that is even possible is to let businesses do whatever they want and wait for the invisible hand to sweep away the bad companies. Rather than creating hand-washing rules for restaurant kitchens, we should let restaurateurs decide whether it's economically rational to make us shit ourselves to death. The ones that choose poorly will get bad online reviews and people will "vote with their dollars" for the good restaurants.

And if the online review site decides to sell "reputation management" to restaurants that get bad reviews? Well, soon the public will learn that the review site can't be trusted and they'll take their business elsewhere. No regulation needed! Unleash the innovators! Set the job-creators free!

This is the Ur-nihilism from which all the other nihilism springs. It contends that the regulations we have – the ones that keep our buildings from falling down on our heads, that keep our groceries from poisoning us, that keep our cars from exploding on impact – are either illusory, or perhaps the forgotten art of a lost civilization. Making good regulations is like embalming Pharaohs, something the ancients practiced in mist-shrouded, unrecoverable antiquity – and that may not have happened at all.

Regulation is corruptible, but it need not be corrupt. Regulation, like science, is a process of neutrally adjudicated, adversarial peer-review. In a robust regulatory process, multiple parties respond to a fact-intensive question – "what alloys and other properties make a reinforced steel joist structurally sound?" – with a mix of robust evidence and self-serving bullshit and then proceed to sort the two by pantsing each other, pointing out one another's lies.

The regulator, an independent expert with no conflicts of interest, sorts through the claims and counterclaims and makes a rule, showing their workings and leaving the door open to revisiting the rule based on new evidence or challenges to the evidence presented.

But when an industry becomes concentrated, it becomes unregulatable. 100 small and medium-sized companies will squabble. They'll struggle to come up with a common lie. There will always be defectors in their midst. Their conduct will be legible to external experts, who will be able to spot the self-serving BS.

But let that industry dwindle to a handful of giant companies, let them shrink to a number that will fit around a boardroom table, and they will sit down at a table and agree on a cozy arrangement that fucks us all over to their benefit. They will become so inbred that the only people who understand how they work will be their own insiders, and so top regulators will be drawn from their own number and be hopelessly conflicted.

When the corporate sector takes over, regulatory capture is inevitable. But corporate takeover isn't inevitable. We can – and have, and will again – fight corporate power, with antitrust law, with unions, and with consumer rights groups. Knowing things is possible. It simply requires that we keep the entities that profit by our confusion poor and thus weak.

The thing is, corporations don't always lie about regulations. Take the fight over working encryption, which – once again – the UK government is trying to ban:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/feb/24/signal-app-warns-it-will-quit-uk-if-law-weakens-end-to-end-encryption

Advocates for criminalising working encryption insist that the claims that this is impossible are the same kind of self-serving nonsense as claims that banning clearcutting of old-growth forests is impossible:

https://twitter.com/JimBethell/status/1699339739042599276

They say that when technologists say, "We can't make an encryption system that keeps bad guys out but lets good guys in," that they are being lazy and unimaginative. "I have faith in you geeks," they said. "Go nerd harder! You'll figure it out."

Google and Apple and Meta say that selectively breakable encryption is impossible. But they also claim that a bunch of eminently possible things are impossible. Apple claims that it's impossible to have a secure device where you get to decide which software you want to use and where publishers aren't deprive of 30 cents on every dollar you spend. Google says it's impossible to search the web without being comprehensively, nonconsensually spied upon from asshole to appetite. Meta insists that it's impossible to have digital social relationship without having your friendships surveilled and commodified.

While they're not lying about encryption, they are lying about these other things, and sorting out the lies from the truth is the job of regulators, but that job is nearly impossible thanks to the fact that everyone who runs a large online service tells the same lies – and the regulators themselves are alumni of the industry's upper eschelons.

Logging companies know a lot about forests. When we ask, "What is the best way to remediate our forests," the companies may well have useful things to say. But those useful things will be mixed with actively harmful lies. The carefully cultivated incompetence of our regulators means that they can't tell the difference.

Conspiratorialism is characterized as a problem of what people believe, but the true roots of conspiracy belief isn't what we believe, it's how we decide what to believe. It's not beliefs, it's epistemology.

Because most of us aren't qualified to sort good reforesting programs from bad ones. And even if we are, we're probably not also well-versed enough in cryptography to sort credible claims about encryption from wishful thinking. And even if we're capable of making that determination, we're not experts in food hygiene or structural engineering.

Daily life in the 21st century means resolving a thousand life-or-death technical questions every day. Our regulators – corrupted by literally out-of-control corporations – are no longer reliable sources of ground truth on these questions. The resulting epistemological chaos is a cancer that gnaws away at our resolve to do anything about it. It is a festering pool where nihilism outbreaks are incubated.

The liberal response to conspiratorialism is mockery. In her new book Doppelganger, Naomi Klein tells of how right-wing surveillance fearmongering about QR-code "vaccine passports" was dismissed with a glib, "Wait until they hear about cellphones!"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

But as Klein points out, it's not good that our cellphones invade our privacy in the way that right-wing conspiracists thought that vaccine passports might. The nihilism of liberalism – which insists that things can't be changed except through market "solutions" – leads us to despair.

By contrast, leftism – a muscular belief in democratic, publicly run planning and action – offers a tonic to nihilism. We don't have to let logging companies decide whether a forest can be cut, or what should be planted when it is. We can have nice things. The art of finding out what's true or prudent didn't die with the Reagan Revolution (or the discount Canadian version, the Mulroney Malaise). The truth is knowable. Doing stuff is possible. Things don't have to be on fire.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/16/murder-offsets/#pulped-and-papered

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solaireverie · 1 year ago

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cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?

summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions

request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!

warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending

author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it

5,891 likes

ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞

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user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?

↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬

user i hope she's okay...

Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone.

“Do you have news yet?” she asks.

“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you.

“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”

“Yeah?”

“She better be okay when I get there.”

Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1.

“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.

There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him.

“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?”

Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open.

Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.

“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”

Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?”

The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.”

Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests.

After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.

Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.

“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”

Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.

He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.

“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”

Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants.

He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.

He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you.

Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.

Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.

“Where do I sign?”

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smau

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aedearly · 3 days ago

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✎ . . . 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹.

₊˚⊹ a collection of loose poem verses, quotes or lyrics from various books and chansons. most were written originally in portuguese or french, and were translated to english by me. some are extracted from personal poems, as well! they all have some type of religious reference/motif. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst and suggestive! feel free to edit as you see fit.

❝ i never felt more alive than when you called me your angel. ❞ ❝ saints above help me… don’t look at me like that. ❞ ❝ admit it, you’d have taken a bite out of eden, too. ❞ ❝ what are you waiting for? pray. ❞ ❝ confess. repent. repeat. ❞ ❝ for you? i will be any believer you want me to be. ❞ ❝ run away with me, where no gods can find us. ❞ ❝ i begged for a miracle. instead, i got you. ❞ ❝ you smell like the devil. ❞ ❝ where is your faith now? ❞ ❝ call me a sinner. ❞ ❝ the way you call my name sounds like heresy. ❞ ❝ in your gaze, i find my prayers answered. ❞ ❝ your lips are scriptures i long to memorise. ❞ ❝ even silence feels sanctified like this. ❞ ❝ when you embraced me, i felt like i was cradled by divinity. ❞ ❝ i do not wish for the stars to hear us now. ❞ ❝ meet me at our shared altar, where our ghosts can dance. ❞ ❝ kiss my hand. make me feel holy. ❞ ❝ your love feels like a fallen angel’s curse. ❞ ❝ please, can’t you be my sanctuary tonight? ❞ ❝ should i kneel and beg you to look at me again? as if you’re a saint? ❞ ❝ worship does not come cheap. ❞ ❝ must i pay for my sins? cry for forgiveness? ❞ ❝ hate me, blame me, crucify me; just please don’t walk away. ❞ ❝ i do not know how else to love you if not like a sinner. ❞ ❝ you were my redemption; now you are my ruin. ❞ ❝ the weight of your absence is my penance to bear. ❞ ❝ i built cathedrals of dreams, and you razed them to dust. ❞ ❝ you’re a hymn that haunts my mind at midnight. ❞ ❝ you left me bleeding for you, devoted—abandoned. ❞ ❝ i prayed to forget you, but even the heavens refused. ❞ ❝ do not tempt me with your promises. ❞ ❝ hellfire has nothing to your touch. ❞

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crazyunsexycool · 2 years ago

Note

stucky x reader, where reader didn't present at a certain age so she lived most of her adult life with no designation, alpha stucky who could be mated alr, accept her into their small pack regardless and are v protective of her. One day though, during their mission she suddenly gets her heat; and not a bearable one, like heat heat. And she just smells so good and irresistible which drove the alpha's absolutely feral.

ps. i love your writing!!💗😍

Present

Pairing: alpha!stucky x reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warning: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!) p in v, fingering, canon level violence, mentions of blood, a/b/o dynamics

A/N: I had most of this written a while ago and idk why I never posted it but it’s here now. I’m so sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy it anyways. I love receiving requests for one shots or dribbles so please feel free I promise that I am working on them they help when I get stuck on other things

Never having presented the way all of your classmates, friends and family had made you an outcast. Did it hurt to be rejected by your family for not presenting? Yes but it didn’t stop you from achieving your goals. It’s how you entered Shield and became an agent. Your lack of scent was an advantage over the people you were fighting, with no alpha, beta or omega needs to tend to you easily became one of the best agents. It’s how you ended up working with the Avengers.

It’s also how you met them, Steve and Bucky the mated alphas. At first you had been extremely intimidated by them and anytime you had to interact with them you referred to them by their ranks. Little by little they showed you they were big softies. It’s how courting gifts started, your favorite coffee on your desk in the morning, a book you had mentioned delivered to your room. It was all so sweet but you had to tell them you didn’t have a designation and you didn’t want to lead them on if they wanted an omega.

“What if we just want you? We don’t care about designations.” Bucky asked as he held your hand.

“Me?”

“Mmhmm, we want you sweetheart.” Steve says as he stands behind you, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear.

“Even though I don’t have a designation?” It was almost too good to be true. The most desirable alphas wanted you, with or without designation. The thought of being theirs and them being yours made you shudder.

“We don’t care about that, we care about you.” Bucky says confidently but hopeful. “What do you say?”

A smile appears on your lips as you nod.

“We need you to use your words Sweetheart.”

“Yes. I-I would like to be with you.” Steve turns you around and immediately connects his lips to yours as a small but deep growl rumbles from deep in his chest. He doesn’t get a chance to deepen it as Bucky pulls you away and begins to kiss you.

You having no designation didn’t stop them from continuing to court you. In the short three months you had been with them they always had small gifts for you when they came back from missions or they took you out on dates. Steve and Bucky never made you feel less than for never having presented. On the contrary they were very protective and anyone who even dared to make a comment about you had to deal with them. The super soldiers were caring, protective and sweet which made you fall fast, this was the first time in a long time in which you wanted to have a designation so that they could claim you properly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You loved going on missions with Steve and Bucky, it was always amazing to see them working. Sure they went toe to toe with other alphas but nothing compared to the Super Soldiers. This mission you were headed to was supposed to be easy. Bucky was supposed to set up with his sniper rifle not too far away, while you and Steve headed inside. Your job was to extract information from the servers after you, but mostly Steve, cleared the building.

Since starting as an agent you were always confident in your abilities but you knew there was something off today. You felt warmer than usual and your body ached, not to mention that whenever Steve or Bucky so much as walked by you wanted to pounce on them. Their scents were driving you crazy and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together to try and get any type of relief. This didn’t go unnoticed by the alphas, they weren’t sure what was going on but they kept a close eye on you during the flight.

The mission was going off without a hitch for the most part. Steve cleared the building while you got to work on the servers. It was easy and if you hadn’t been preoccupied with the shooting pain that spread low in your belly you would have considered that it was way too easy. A whine escapes your lips as you try to focus on the task at hand before a growl gets your attention. It sends shivers up and down your spine and the bitter scent that hits you is just as unpleasant.

“Well what do we have here? I see they left me something to play with.” his lips turned into a wicked grin.

You put your hand up to your earpiece. “Alphas” is all you manage to say before the one before you lunges towards you and pins you down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky had made his way down to the building from his position at Steve’s request. The building had been cleared and he had left you to do your part. They were both well aware that it was too easy to get into the building, it had minimal security considering the information it housed. Steve preferred to have Bucky close in case there were more issues especially if he considered that you were behaving a little out of character. They both had agreed on that and the fact that if they didn’t know you didn’t have a designation it felt like you had a scent. One that was sure to send them into their ruts if it had been stronger. Steve and Bucky were doing one more sweep of a lower level when they heard it. A faint growl but enough to make them turn back around and when they heard your voice through comms calling them alpha they nearly lost it. You had never referred to them by their designation.

By the time they get up two floors to your location the scent in the air hits them. It was intoxicating but laced with fear and both super soldiers knew they had to act fast. When they got to the hallway where the room you were in they felt pure rage. The door had been ripped off its hinges and there was a faint smell of blood in the air. But as they got to the room they only found your ear piece and a dead alpha on the floor. Their enhanced hearing alerted them to movement further down the hall and close to the stairwell.

They split up with Steve following the footsteps and Bucky trying to find you. At any other moment they would be calm and focused but you were in trouble and the men that had promised to keep you safe would stop at nothing to do so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N.” he says with his voice lowered so as to not scare you. His scent reaches you and you relax slightly. Bucky found you in a room hidden away from the others that Steve was following.

“Alpha, it hurts.” you whine from your spot in the corner of the room.

“I know, doll but I’m here. I’ll help you.” he coos as he finally gets closer to you. He’s fighting his instincts to claim you right on the spot, the sweet scent made stronger by your heat is driving him crazy. Instead Bucky focuses on using his own scent to soothe you.

As soon as he is crouching in front of you, you launch yourself into his arms. Bucky holds you close as he tries to find any injuries. The only thing he finds is a rip on your uniform and he’s furious, if the alpha wasn’t dead already he would have ripped his head off. But then Bucky feels the tip of your nose brush up against his mating gland and up his neck and he shudders.

“Omega.” When Bucky pulls back his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen and completely full of lust.

“Is everything ok?” Steve’s voice comes through the comms.

“Kind of. She isn’t hurt but she’s starting her heat, we have to get her out of here.”

“Meet me at the entrance. The jet isn’t too far and- fuck. Bucky you have to move her to a safer room. We have more guards coming in.”

“Fuck. Ok, moving now.” Bucky scoops you up and rushes out of the room trying to ignore the way you keep nipping and licking at his neck. He moves quickly until he finds a room he deems safe enough for you. He listens for footsteps on the other side of the door after setting you down on the table, at least he doesn’t have to worry about a sniper since there aren’t any windows.

“Bucky, what’s happening to me?”

“Doll, you’re presenting. You’re an omega.”

“Your omega?” you whisper, afraid that he’ll say no.

Your question makes his breath hitch. He turns towards you, his eyes dark and lust blown.

“Mine.” he says as he walks towards you with purpose. Standing between your legs as he pulls you in for a filthy kiss. He felt you trying to undo his belt and then the button on his pants but he stops you. “We can’t doll, you aren’t safe.”

“Please, need you.”

“You’ve got me.” He says as he moves to undo your belt and pants. With every passing moment your scent got stronger and so did your heat. Bucky knew he had to do something to help.

He pops the button on your suit pant open and then lowers the zipper, slowly his hand makes its way between your thighs. Running his fingers through your fold he groans at how wet you are. “This all for me ‘mega. Is this for your alpha?”

“Yes, alpha please.” you moan as you feel him circle your clit slowly. Your hips move on their own accord to try and get more friction. He captures your lips with his as he starts to pick up the pace, swallowing all your moans. “More, Bucky more.”

“I got you doll.” he says as he moves from your clit down to your dripping entrance and slowly pushes two fingers in until he’s knuckles deep. You whimper at the feeling. “Look at you so greedy, gripping my fingers so tight.” Bucky begins to pick up his pace before adding another finger. He curves his fingers stroking that spot that has your eyes rolling back, your mouth open in a silent scream. Your hands gripping on to his shoulders as the knot in your belly tightens.

“That’s it doll, be a good girl for me and cum.” Bucky starts thrusting his fingers faster until he feels your walls clench and he hears you scream his name as the knot in your belly unravels. “Good girl.” he praises as he slowly removes his fingers from your pussy. You whine at the loss while you rest your forehead against his chest as you try to catch your breath. He puts his fingers in his mouth and groans at the taste of you, Bucky freezes before he can say anything to you. His attention is on the footsteps rushing towards your position.

The door is kicked open and Bucky goes feral as the scent of the other alphas hit him. He hears all of them inhale and their eyes are fixed on you. Bucky moves so that his large frame keeps you hidden from them.

“We just want a little taste of your omega. She smells delicious.” One of the men says as he steps into the room. Bucky orders you into the corner of the room before he starts his assault on the men that dared even look in your direction. He’s fueled by pure rage and his need as an alpha to protect his omega.

As soon as the last of the guards hit the floor Bucky fixes your uniform before grabbing you and carries you out of the room as Steve tells him it’s all clear.

They rush from the building, Steve leading the way in case anyone else tries to stop them and Bucky has you in his arms. During this whole ordeal your head is fuzzy and all you want to do is strip your clothes and be close to them, taking in their scent. Somehow during this mess you ended up on Steve’s lap, while Bucky handled getting the jet off the ground.

“Alpha.” You call out to Steve. He growls when he hears you call him by his designation. Steve would never admit it but he’s wanted to hear you say that word for a while and hearing it along with your sweet scent and the slick that is pooling in between your thighs he’s sure to go into a rut.

“Omega?”

“Please, need to feel you.”

“You want my knot, sweetheart?” he coos. All you can do is nod. “Use your words baby.”

“Yes, I want your knot.” as you shift to straddle him. Steve rips your clothes off, your inner thighs covered in slick. He lifts you slightly so that he can lower his pants and boxers enough to free his already hard cock. In one swift move Steve buries himself in your wet heat, causing both of you to moan. No matter how many times you’ve been with them it always took you a moment before you could start moving. You relish the stretch and feel of him as you begin to move, His hands around your waist to keep you steady as you grab the straps on his shoulders. Rolling your hips a couple of times you moan as he captures your lips with his. Needing more, you begin to bounce on his cock.

“So needy sweetheart.” Steve groans “take what you need omega. Just like that.”

You mewl at his words as you try to move faster. Steve’s hands move to your hips and he begins to take control as he thrusts up into you. You throw your head back unconsciously baring your neck for him. “Fuck, you feel so good. I’m gonna mark you right here.” His teeth grace the junction between your shoulder and neck right where your mating gland is. “Do you want that omega?”

“Y-yes alpha, please.” You say in your lust filled haze, your eyes half lidded and glazed over as you hold onto his shoulders straps tighter. He continues his fast pace as one hand moves from your hip to your swollen bundle of nerves. The added stimulation causes you to clench around Steve’s cock. Pressure begins to build between your legs, you realize it’s his knot.

“I can feel you’re so close sweetheart. Let go baby.”

His words are all you need for your orgasm to wash over you with a moan of his name, his teeth sinking into your neck. You can feel the bond come to life as he laps at the mark he made. Then you feel his knot catch as his hips start to stutter. With one final thrust Steve spills into you as his knot locks you both into place. Exhaustion creeps over you and you lay with your head on Steve’s shoulder, drifting off into sleep as you hear him praise you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes flutter open and taking in your surroundings you realize you’re in bed just not yours. There’s a slight ache on your neck and you feel almost guilty but you’re not sure why. When you sit up your head feels fuzzy and you groan because of your sore muscles. The sheet that had been covering falls and reveals that you're naked and you’re flooded with confusion. As you look around the room you see a water bottle on the nightstand and you grab it, drinking half of it immediately.

The door opens slowly and you cover your chest unsure of who will walk in but you only see Bucky standing at the door. He smiles at you but as his woodsy scent, mixed with Steve’s warm and comforting scent, permeates through the room a small whine bubbles up and escapes you.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in a safehouse, doll. You presented during the mission.” He tells you as he sits at the edge of the bed. Bucky is breathing heavily as he fights against his most basest instinct to mate and claim you.

Steve stands in the doorway with a tray in his hands but he doesn’t walk in. Instead he hovers around the door, guilt floods the bond. It’s a foriegn feeling to you and your hand goes to your neck as you trace the almost healed mark left there by the blonde alpha.

“Steve, are you ok?”

His smile is small, your question enough to get him to move and he places the tray on the bed opposite Bucky.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?”

“Fuzzy and hot… and really sticky.” you say and they chuckle.

“Eat first omega and then we’ll get you cleaned up ok?”

“Will you stay with me?” you mumble as you look at Steve.

“Of course.”

Steve moves to rest against the headboard and you immediately crawl on his lap. Steve and Bucky take care of you, doing exactly as they said they would, you eat a bit of the fruit that was brought in as well as some yogurt. Then Steve takes you into the shower so that you can wash up. With your new bond set in place though you want to cling to your alpha and he won’t say no to you. Even before you dated there was nothing neither him nor Bucky wouldn’t do with or for you. This moment was exactly what you needed, as you washed each other, it was intimate and comforting. You reassured Steve that you did want him to claim you and to hear you say those words lifted a weight off his shoulders and you felt relief wash over the bond. Once you were both done you headed back into the bedroom as you began to feel slick start to coat your inner thighs again.

This time Bucky would help you through it and you assured him that you also wanted him to claim you. It’s how you found yourself presenting for your alpha. A needy whine spills from your lips when you feel Bucky behind you.

“Alpha please.” you say as you look at him over your shoulder.

“It’s ok ‘mega. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Bucky takes his already hard cock and slides it through your folds. The head of his cock hits your clit and the sensation has you mewling. He groans as he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. You wiggle your hips once he bottoms out, needing that friction more than anything.

“Please alpha, need you.” you beg over and over until he finally starts to move.

Bucky’s pace is slow at first, he wants to feel all of you. The way you flutter around him when the angle is just right. But the moaning and begging mixed with your sweet scent are all consuming and his pace quickens. Bucky keeps you in place by gripping your hips, the area will be sore tomorrow you’re both too far gone to care.

“Feel so good omega. Like you were made for me.” He growls as he snakes an arm around your body and up to your throat.

The hold isn’t tight but it’s enough for him to pull you against his chest. You take hold of his forearm and your nails dig into his flesh as he begins to tease your clit. The coil starts to tighten again low in your belly as Bucky continues to push you further into unbridled bliss. His breath hits your cheek as he begins to whisper in your ear.

“Such a good girl. Look at you taking me so well. Are you gonna cum for me? Show your alpha how good you feel?”

You nod as a strangled moan escapes you. Your head lolls to the side as pleasure takes over you. The only thing you’re aware of is Bucky claiming you just as Steve had. His hips falter for just a moment and you feel his knot swelling, locking you in place. Bucky sings sweet praises in your ear as he moves both of you into a comfortable position. You try to fight off the sleep, you want to bask in the joy of this new development but you’re too tired and the warmth Bucky provides is your undoing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked back into the tower a week later hand in hand with Steve while Bucky offered to carry your bags. Their ruts had started a few hours after your heat began and the week at the safe house was spent being tangled up with each other. At first you had been caught off guard when they said they wanted you to claim them, it was almost unheard of. But you did it and it was one of the most thrilling moments of your life.

Once the elevator opened up to the shared floor the rest of the team slowly filed out to meet you. It was a series of congratulations and hugs for the three of you. Tony had been the most excited about the new development. He was your closest friend and you had confided to him that you wish you could have presented.

Your childhood hadn’t been easy, being rejected by so many people made you doubt what your purpose was. But being in Steve and Bucky’s arms you realized you were meant to be more than just an omega. Never in your life did you imagine that not only would you become a highly important member of a team dedicated to saving people but that you could still be an omega and kickass. You were more than elated that you didn’t present until now because you found alphas that valued you for more than your heat. They gave themselves fully to you so you gave yourself fully to them. And you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

#alpha!stucky x omega!reader #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader #omega!reader #alpha!stucky smut #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader imagines #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #stucky x reader smut #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Steve rogers x reader smut

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sparklingblu · 2 months ago

Text

Pulse

Sohyun X Xinyu

P.S: I'm trying a new style of writing here.

- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

There's something calm and comforting about the crowded coffeeshop. The hissing of the espresso machine, the bustle of human conversation, the clinking of ceramic cups - they all seem to blend together to create a new yet totally familiar world. That's the reason I've come here. To be swallowed by this background noise and extract myself from reality if just for a moment.

I sit in my usual corner, my elbow against a cup of cappucino which has long since gone cold and a textbook opened but largely ignored. I have read the same line for the last thirty minutes but none of it seems to stick. I'm too distracted by the noise and my own thoughts, adrift in this place.

University is supposed to be a place where you "find yourself" but I seem to have lost my sense of direction as soon as I step my foot here. Everyone around me seems so sure of what they are doing, raised chests and energetic steps. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to keep my head down, pretending like I belong while I don't even know who I am yet.

Outside, the leaves are just starting to turn yellow - the afternoon light casting a lazy red glow on them. It's the start of a new season though I barely feel like anything have changed in this new life I'm settling into. It's just a struggle to fit in from day to day.

I bring my lips to the rim of my cofee cup, grmiacing as the bitter taste washes over me. It doesn't come as a surprise. The only reason people come here is for the atmosphere - to mingle and jingle . The cofee is just a necessity to stay.

I glance at the moving world from my seat near the window. A steady flow of students rush past the platfrom on the otherside, their laughter echoing through the glass. It's as if they know a secret I have yet to understand.

I pull the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles, retreating into the soft fabric. Nearby, my phone buzzes with a notification from a group chat that I never have been a part of. I don't bother to check and it becomes one of the many sounds that fills the place.

I used to think university would be different - a total contrast to my mundane high school life. That I'd step into the place and everything will click into place. Like the rest of my life have been a prelude to this. But here I am. Already chickening out in the first week.

I chug down the remainder of my cold coffee, shove my books into the bag and was about to leave when a burst of cool air sweeps through the place, followed by the jingle of the bell above the door. And I happen to be one of those people who instictively gawk at the newcomer.

There she is, waltzing into the room like she owns it. The energy of the outside world seems to radiate from her body. There's nothing loud or brash about her but she draws attention anyway - an easy confidence that ripples through the place. She brushes a stray strand of hair our of her face, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

She stands out naturally,moving as if she's utterly home in her skin, in this place. It's the kind of self-insurance that seems totally foregin to me. I can't even imagine what it's like to be in her shoes. Not like I will have a chance. She's everything I'm not.

Her hair is slightly tousel, falling in loose waves that looks almost intentional. She's wearing a plain white shirt, its crispiness a total contrast to her slouch jeans.

She orders a cofee - espresso, no sugar- and while she waits, she cracks a joke at the waiteress, painting her cheeks red. All this time, my eyes linger on her with a strange sort of fascination, watching like she's the only form of enteratinment I have had in a long time. And it's true in a way.

She takes the plastic cup and the change from the waiteress with a smile. She turns and that's when the trouble starts. I have expected her to leave as swiftly as she has come. Someone like her probably have more important businesses than slothing around.

Her eyes dart around the café and it takes me a moment to realize she's looking for a seat. So she's staying. But luck doesn't seem to be on her side today beacaue every single seat has been occupied. Well, except..

"Hey" she says, and it's casual, like we have been friends forever. "Mind if I sit there?"

She's gesturing at the seat across from mine, which I have strategically left empty to create a distance between me and everything else. I hesistate a tad bit too long before I response.

"Sure" I mumble, nodding towards the chair.

She sits, sliding the cup of coffee on the table with a soft thud. I have expected her to pull out a phone or do anything a stranger sharing a table with another stranger would do. But instead, she leans back and scans the room before her eyes come to rest on me.

"I have seen you before" she speaks, offering a slight smile as if she can read my thoughts.

I blink, caught off-guard. No 'hello' s. No 'hi' s. Straight to the point.

"Have you?" I say, sounding awfully stiff.

"Yeah. You have been in the same corner for the last week. You come here a lot?" She sips her coffee, eyes still on me.

I shrug. "Not always. But yeah. It's quiet"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the packed café. "Quiet?" she repeats, half laughing. "Compared to the dining hall, perhaps"

Just then, I realize how rudiculous I must sound. "Well, not today" I admit, lowering my gaze back to the books. "But usually"

She laughs again, but not mockingly so. "I get where you are coming from. Sometimes, it's good to be alone even though you are not truly alone" She couldn't have worded it better.

"Exactly" I say, nodding slowly.

A brief silent passes between us. She sips from her cup again. If the cappucino here is strong, I can't imagine what espresso would taste like. But she shows no sign of distaste.

"So, what do you study?" she asks, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

"Literature" I answer, shifting in my seat. For some reason, talking about my major always make me feel like I'm giving something away. Like I'm exposing myself.

"Ahhh Literature" She repeats the word, as if she's trying to decipher its meaning. "That must be....intense. Lots of complicated story about lots of different stuffs"

I nod, still unsure where she's headed. "I guess so. It's more about trying to understand them through their words. Deep fry your brain sometimes"

She huffs. "I can imagine. That's why I try to understand them through their heads, it's less exhausting that way. I'm in psych"

That makes sense. She has this way of speaking, as if she knows what the other party will say before they even open their mouths. But at the same time, respecting their boundaries.

I'm still trying to think of a valid response when she lifts her cup and stare at the remaining coffee like she's studying it. Then her gaze lifts back to me, eyes bright.

"You know, espresso reminds me of people"

I blink, surprised at the strange comparison. "Espresso? Why?"

She beams, leaning in. "Espresso's small right? Concentrated. If you take a sip, there's this rush - sharp and intense. It hits you so intensely that if you are not prepared, it can be overwhelming"

She takes a sip, as if giving me time to register her words. "But if you take it in bit by bit, the taste changes. The bitterness mellows out and you can feel each layer of richness underneath"

I stare at her, my tired brain struggling to understand what she's implying. Why espresso, out of all things?

She leans back and continues. "People are like that. Emotions, life, they come at you in the most unexpected times - swift, chaotic. Sometimes it can be too much to handle. But if you give it some times, let it breathe, you start to see the little parts that makes it up. That's when you start to discover yourself"

I can't help but smile. "You have thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just obsessed with espresso"

"Not the one here, I hope"

She smiles, instantly getting what I'm implying. It seems she's a regular customer too. "You gotta work with what you have. But you get the point"

"So....people are like espresso? Is that why you study them?" I question as she finishes up the last few drops of her coffee. This girl really likes espresso.

"Exactly" she snaps. I'm not sure if she's joking here. "It has always been my dream to do a thesis on espresso and emotions"

"Are you....?" I drift off and she bursts into laughter.

I feel the slightest hint of joy, like by asking that stupid question, I have contributed to her amusement in some way.

"Serious? No way. I'm not risking my degree for my unhealthy addiction. The last person I explained this to leave the table as soon as I'm done"

"Well, I'm still here"

Does it sound too cheesy?

"I can see that" She glances at the clock on the wall, frowning slightly. "I should get going. I have a class to prepared for"

I nod, feeling that familiar twist that comes with endings. "Right. Of course"

She stands, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you" she says, her voice warm. "You can call me Sohyun"

"Xinyu" I reply. It sounds so much easier to say my name now.

"Xinyu" She lets the word roll off her tongue. "I like it"

"Thanks" She's already walking to the door when I response.

With one last glance, she re-enters the reality outside of this comforting bubble. I feel a strange sense of anticipation, like the conversation I just had have dropped some hint to solve this puzzle called life.

Sohyun and Espresso and People.

How peculiar.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The walk back across the campus was pleasant. The scene that welcomes me when I enter my room is not.

As I enter, I'm greeted by the familiar chaos of Yooyeon's world - clothes draped over the chair, a half eaten bag of snacks spilling out on the desk and music playing softly in the background. The mess have become such an essential part of the space that without it, you doubt you will recognize the room.

Yooyeon looks up from her bed, where she's lounging with her phone. She's dressed causual with a twist as usual - an oversized grey t-shrit with the words "You Shall Not Pass" emblazoned across the front and swetpants of the same color. As soon as she notices me, an infectious grin spreads across her face

"Xinyu! You are back!" She exclaims, eyes bright. "Did you finally make a friend or are you still on a first name basis with the library?"

"Ha ha. Very funny" I retort sarcastically as I shove my bag on the bed. "But yeah. I guess so"

She immediately sits up, her attention solely on me. "Wait, what? For real?"

I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. That's the thing about Yooyeon. It's like she has her own respirator of dopamine. Always on her feet. Not a hint of worry in those blue eyes.

"Her name's Sohyun. We met at the café" I answer, keeping my tone casual. One wrong octave and Yooyeon would immediately detect it.

"Ooooh, a café conversation, huh? Sounds like the opening to a great novel" She laughs, flopping back down to her bed. "What did you two talk about?"

I shrug, though I have anticipated the question. "Just espresso and....people"

Yooyeon grins even wider. "Don't tell me you spill your heart out. Cuz that would be really really-"

"It's nothing like that" I quickly interrupt. "It was just small talk. She's really easy to talk to"

"Easy is good. You need easy" Yooyeon bounces off her bed and start rummaging through her cupboard box of numerous books and posters. It has been a week and she still hasn't bothered to arrange her stuffs.

Not a moment sooner, she pulls out two bright blue mugs. "We should celebrate your burgeoning social life. I have got hot chocolate mix somewhere"

I roll my eyes. "You are impossible"

"Impossibly fun" Yooyeon winks as she pours the hot chocolate mix into the mugs and adds some hot water, the steam curling up. "You are on your way to becoming a social butterfly. Next thing you know, you will be hosting literary salons"

"Sure. After I finish this semester's readings" I reply lightly though the idea terrifies me.

Yooyeon hands me the steaming mug with a triumphant grin. "Here's to new friends and the magic of coffee! If you ever need a social coach to take you on this emotional espresso journey, I'm always available"

I take the mug from her, the warmth of it seeping into my palms. "No thanks"

"Aww come on. I can be the Ron to your Harry. Or the Peeta to your Katniss. Wait, nevermind. That's not a good idea" Yooyeon says, never failing to showcase her obsession with fiction. If Sohyun wants to do a thesis on espresso, Yooyeon would probably make one on Hunger Games. But her dream is closer to being a reality, given how she's in media studies.

"Isn't that the guy....who got like brainwashed or something?" I try to recall the memoies of the movie from time immemorial.

"Yeah. Poor Peeta..." Yooyeon says with a dreamy tone before she brings the mug to her lips.

"Fuck! It's hot" She yelps, immediately recoiling and almost spilling the hot drink.

"Who? Peeta?" I ask.

"No. The hot chocolate. Wait, no. I mean yes. Peeta, not this god awful drink" Yooyeon says while she furiously fans her mouth.

I can't help the chuckle that escape my lips. "I have always liked that Gale guy better"

Yooyeon's eyesbrow knit at my remark. And I already know a debate is headed my way.

"For starters,..."

And so it begins. I participate anyway although I know Yooyeon would win in the end as she always does. I'm not geeky enough for this.

But it doesn't matter. Because she's the only friend I have for now. Debating on fictional man not to be the odd one out doesn't seem so bad of a trade.

Would Sohyun like Gale better than Peeta?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

I'm up early the next morning. The kind of early that makes the world feels like it's still deciding whether or not it should go back to sleep. I look at the bedside clock - 5:55 am. Ha. I beat the alarm today.

Soft gray light shines through a hatch between the curtains, the world outside still enshrouded in the morning mist. All is quiet except for the occasional footsteps and soft snores of Yooyeon , whose face is half buried in the pillow. I smile, knowing she won't be up for at least an hour. The girl's have been up all night finishing an assignment.

I shiver slightly as the cool air grazes my skin when I pull the covers off. The mornings are getting colder, the first hints of autumn sneaking in. And it means I will have a harder time exiting the warm embrace of my sheets.

The chill in the air clings to me as I head towards the common bathroom. The hallways are empty at this time of the day. Not much early risers here. This building, Bradford Hall, is one of the older dorms on the campus. The floors creak with each step I take and the white paint on the wall have faded with age. For no reason, the place indulges a sense of legacy in me. Like I'm a part of something greater. Maybe it's the smell of chamomile that always hangs in the air.

The walk to the bathroom doesn't take long since my room's on the first floor. There's no burden of stairways. It takes five minutes tops for me to clean up - brush my teeth, wash my face and a couple arrangement of my messy hair that will stay the same way after. I still don't understand how some people manage to spend hours in the bathroom. Making yourself presentable shouldn't be that hard.

When I come back to the room, Yooyeon has tossed over, almost draping off the bed and murmuring something that sounds like a spell. She might be visiting middle-earth, Hogwarts and god knows where.

I cross over to my side of the room, the territory determined by an imaginary line Yooyeon have drawn on the first day. The room is barely big enough for two twin beds, a couple desks and a shared closet. My space is plain, simple. Almost empty except for the small lamp and the stack of books. It works fine by me.

Yooyeon's, however, is a total contrast. Her walls are covered with posters of whatever fictional book or movie you cam name. Not to mention the figurines that line her desk. "They give me motivation" Yooyeon has said. In my opinion, I wouldn't want an inch tall Darth Vader monitoring me all night. I bet Yooyeon would consider that 'hot' too.

I rummage through my closet without any initial dress code in mind. There isn't a need to worry. People wouldn't be up yet. There's no one to impress. I decide to go simple pulling on a bright blue sweater over my shirt and pulling on a pair of jeans. I slip on my worn-out sneakers, their familiar creaks greeting me. After a glance in the mirror, I decide to let my loose locks fall freely. I grab my bag and leave, careful not to wake Yooyeon, who's on the brink of falling off the bed.

The campus seems almost unrecognizable at this time of the day - the morning light bathing it in a warm glow that makes everything looks like it belongs to a painting. The air is still, undisturbed by the usual hustle of students. I take a deep breath as I make my way down the brick path.

The clues of autumn are scattered here and there - the air crisp and the leaves tinged with green and yellow like they haven't decided their favorite color yet. To my left, the towering main library roses like a cathedral, fog clinging to its ebony walls. The arched windows reflecting the sun rays.

Further down, the old lecture halls rise up on either sides of the path. They look like relics from the ancient past, a time unbeknownst. The ivy covered walls adding into its timelessness.

They weren't joking about this place being 'old'.

Ahead, the dining hall comes into view, no less younger than its confidants. With the dark wood beams and the high ceiling, it looks almost like a castle. The stone steps leading to the entrance are worn smooth by countless steps and the wooden doors, though thoroughly polished, creaks slightly as I push them open.

Inside, the place is most empty, save for a couple students scattered around. The smell of coffee and pastries fill the air, comforting in a way that makes me want to stay for hours. I grab a tray, throws on a couple of sandwiches and a glass of juice. My morning appetite have never been impressive.

I takes my usual place near one of the stained glass windows, spots of light showering on the table. I love this place. It's quiet and peaceful. Maybe except when Yooyeon's accompanying me.

I'm haflway through a cheese sandwich when the door swing opens.

Sohyun.

She walks in with a group of friends, at least five of them, talking and laughing. Their energy seemingly announcing they belong here.

Sohyun's dressed in almost the same way at our first meeting - a loose white shirt and cargos. And she strides across the hall with the same confidence from that day.

I didn't mean to stare but my eyes follow her, weaving through tables with her friends trailed behind. Like maybe our encounter was an interlude to something more.

I know I should go back to my sandwhich but when the soul craves, the body has to suffice. She turns my way just for a split second and without thinking, I give her a small smile. It's nothing special, really - just a 'Hey. I remember you from yesterday' kind of smile.

But Sohyun's eyes sweep over me as if I'm not even there and soon, she's swept up with her friends again, laughing at something they said.

It stings. Though it has no reason to. It's like a tiny blow that leaves you off-balance but not strong enough to knock you off your feet. Before I even realize it, my lips have pursed into a tight line and I'm already staring down at the unfinished plate of sandwiches. Maybe, yesterday was just a fever dream.

I didn't expect much, really. A nod, a wave, a smile - a sign of acknowledgement. Anything. I tell myself not to care. It's rudiculous to yearn for approval from someone you shared a coffee table with. But I can't help the cold weight settling in my chest.

I glance up at her again. She's still at the counter, taking her sweet time choosing her breakfast. The way she holds herself is so natural, like she belongs anywhere she goes. I envy that about her. I have always been needed to prove to earn a place in society while she just waltz through everything without a care.

Why is it bothering me so much?

Maybe I should be grateful for her brief cameo in my life. Or maybe it would have been better if we never met. Then she will just be another student who comes to eat breakfast. Not Sohyun.

But now, it's infecting me.

I take a sip of my orange juice, focusing on the cold liquid that wash down my throat. It's nothing, I tell myself. It's jst a stupid plea for attention. It doesn't matter. I have always been good at finding meanings in small thing but sometimes, small things are just......small. There's no more meaning to them than what they are.

Maybe that's all this is.

I watch her from the corner of my eyes as she settles down at a table with her friends, her laughter ringing out across the hall again. And for a momet, I almost want to laugh. Not because anything is funny but beacause how easily she moves through the world, through life.

And how easily she has forgotten me.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Over the next week, autumn have crept in like a quiet exhale. The trees have turned amber and yellow, their leaves falling in slow spiral onto tbe brick paths. The air has become sharp enough to sting my skin when I go out. It's the season of change, like people say. But this year, there's something unsettling about the sudden shift. Like I'm not ready for new beginnings.

Most of my time is spent surrounded by books and notes. Despite the constant pressure, it's nice to finally have a rhythm to life again. The rhythm that my fear of rejection have indulged. I have recovered quick and Sohyun has faded into nothing but another human whose life happen to cross ways with mine.

It's nothing to dwell on.

I sit at my desk, my table lamp casting a faint glow on the pages of 'Jane Eyre'. The word file opened on my laptop is still in the same state as it has been in the last hour - celan and empty. The syllables for the essay due tonight doesn't seem to be manifesting anytime soon.

I tap my fingers idly on the edge of the desk, glancing at the clock. It's nearly midnight now. The campus has gone still save for the ocassional laughter and footsteps of latecomers from the corridor. Peaceful. Quiet. But still not helping me collect my scattered thoughts.

I'm about to give up for the night and go to bed when the door suddenly flies open with a buest of energy and Yooyeon, in all her chaotic glory, stumbles into the room. She's panting, yet she has this wide grin plastered on her face.

I look up from my desk, startled by the sudden enteance. "Hey"

"Hey" she says, plopping down on the bed. "Guess what?"

I raise an eyebrow, bracing myself for whatever dramatic new she has to deliver. "What?"

"Yeonjun wants me to meet him at one of those fancy clubs. And he asked me to bring a friend" She grins even wider. "Guess who that friend's gonna be"

I blink. "Not me"

Yooyeons gives me a look, the kind that says she's not giving up until I give in. "Yes, you. Come on, Xinyu. You have been locked up here for so long. You need to get out"

"I've been studying" It's not enitirely a lie but it's not the truth either.

But Yooyeon's having none of it. "Studying, hiding, same difference. You are coming with me. Plus, it will be fun. Who know? Maybe you will even find a cute boy" She winks, then whispers. "Or a girl"

I'm not quick enough to surpress the blush that creeps up my cheek. "Yooyeon!"

"What? Don't tell me you still can't forget Ms. Espresso"

"This has nothing to do with her" To my surprise, my voice comes out shrill. "I'm just-"

"Blah blah blah. More excuses" Yooyeon cuts me off. "Come on, Xinyu. You will be doing me a huge favour. Yeonjun thinks I have no friends"

"You do have friends"

"Yeah. But no one would be available this late. And I'd rather go with you. You are....less dramatic"

Despite myself, I can't help but chuckle. "You mean 'naive' "

She shrugs, throwing a pillow at me. "You know what I mean. I don't need to worry about you throwing up or passing out or sleeping with the wrong guy"

"You just wants a wingwoman who will behave"

"Exactly" Yooyeon snaps. "So, what do you say? We'll go meet Yeonjun, hangs out for a bit. Then, we can come back to your books if you want"

I glance at my laptop, ths text cursor blinking in and out of existence as if reminding me of the marks soon to be lost. It's tempting to stay here but Yooyeon's right. Perhaps, I can take a breather just this once.

I sigh, pushing my chair back. "Fine. But don't expect me to drag your drunk ass back here"

Yooyeon lets out a triumphant squeal, practically bouncing off the bed. "Yes! You won't regret it"

She's already heading to the door when I throw a sweater over my shoulder. Yooyeon's dressed in her usual fit - jeans and a Lord of the Rings shirt, the one that says "You shalll not pass".

"Seriously? You are wearing that shirt again?" I ask, eyeing her.

Yooyeon shrinks away in mock offense. "Excuse me? Have some respect for the classics. Everybody loves Gandalf"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Let's go"

As soon as we step out of the building, we are hit by the cool night air. The campus is fast asleep, the street lamps casting long shadows across the brick paths. It feels peaceful, almost serene.

Yooyeon immediately starts chattering about this new Draco-Harry fiction, her hands waving animatedly as she speaks. I listen, half-distracted, my thoughts finding their way back to a topic unexplored for some times - Sohyun.

Maybe that morning in the dinining hall doesn't mean anything. It's jut a moment, and moments pass.

Despite the countless convincements, a part of me still wonders. What if she had smiled back? What if things have happened differently?

"Earth to Xinyu. Helloooooo" Yooyeon's voice break through my thoughts and I realize she has been talking to me this whole time.

"Sorry" I mumble, recomposing myself. "What were you saying?"

"I said, what do you think of Yeonjun?"

"He seems...nice" I answer, though I barely remember the guy.

Yooyeon grins, clearly pleased. "I know, right? He's the sweetest. And he's really into Harry Potter too, so that's a bonus"

I hum in agreement. Yooyeon's world seems so simple - vibrant, full of energy. Meanwhile, mine feels like the polar opposite. I'm always overthinking, second-guessing.

"Hey" Yooyeon nudges me with her elbow. "You are being all broody again. Stop it. We are going to have fun"

"Yeah, okay" I say, offering her a small smile.

I breath in the autumn air, hoping that mayb, I can stop cllinging onto a loose thread.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The club is a short walk off campus, tucked into a narrow street line with food trucks and cafés that come alive at night. As me and Yooyeon approach, the distant music grows louder, the rhythmic bass reverberating beneath our feet.

A small line of people snaked out of the entrance, marked by a neon sign displaying its name "The Tavern". The building itself is unassuming, with dark brick walls and small windows dimly lit from the inside.

When we step in, the place opens into a large space with low lighting. The bar run along one side while the rest of the room is a dance floor, dotted with tables around the edge. The air is buzzing with music and energy - people pressed close together, shouting whatever on their mind over the DJ's beat. It's an enitrely different world from the quiet, orderly campus.

"There he is!" Yooyeon yells over the music, wavibg wildly at someone near the bar. I follow her gaze and find a guy leaning against the counter, already grinning like a madman. Yeonjun. I recognize him from the first (and the only) time Yooyeon introduced me. He seems to reflect Yooyeon's restless vigour - a match made in heaven (or Hogwarts, whatever).

"Yeonjun. You remember Xinyu, right?" she says, taking her place next to him. He offers me a smile, not too over the top, but friendly enough. "The one who's always drowning in books?"

I give him an awkward wave. "Hey"

"Nice to meet you again" He says, his voice smooth. "Yooyeon's always talking about you"

"Only good things, I hope"

He laughs. "All good. Don't worry"

Yooyeon reaches for Yeonjun's half-finished shot of whiskey on the counter but get stopped by a firm grip on her wrist.

"Eh eh eh. You are ordering your own drink, miss"

Yooyeon pouts at Yeonjun's remark. "You don't even want to share a drink with your girlfriend?"

"You see. The reason it's called a 'shot' is that it's meant to be savoured by a single individual" Yeonjun's voice has gone unsettlingly serious.

"And they say Xinyu's the smart one" Yooyeon says, punching his arm.

"And they say men are the agressors" Yeonjun retorts. "How do you even deal with this witch, Xinyu?"

Before I can think of anything to say, Yooyeon grabs his arm. "Before I cast a casual Crucio on your sorry ass, we should get to the dance floor"

Yeonjun didn't argue with that. The banter is just their way of communicating. "Xinyu, you should come too" he invites.

"Uh.....no. I'm good. You two go ahead"

"Are you sure?" Yooyeon asks, despite knowing nothing can budge me. "It wil be fun, I promise"

I shake my head, smiling. "I will pass. I think I will just....get a drink"

Yooyeon is silent for a moment, then she's off, dragging Yeonjun into the sea of bodies. I watch them disappear, Yooyeon's laughter echoing back, carefree and loud, like she's exactly where she belongs.

Me, though? Not so much. So, I head to the bar,sliding onto one of the stools and order a Coke. There's no need for anything stronger. I can barely tolerate anything that have the slightest bit of alcohol and that's speaking from experience. The bartender barely looks at me as he hands it over, already moving on to his next order.

I take a sip and glance around. The place is packed, bodies moving in rhythm, couples tangled up in each other and some loners who are just swaying, lost in the music. It's loud, chaotic and I feel totally out of place. It's not that I don't want to have fun - I just don't know how to in place like this. Maybe my definition of 'fun' is different from everyone here.

I lean back against the bar and take another sip. The girls here are all glitter and glamour - tight dresses, high heels and bold colors, shimmering under the disco light. Like the night is made for them.

And then there's me in my oversized sweater and faded jeans. My white sneakers seems an imposter to their sleek heels. I have been so eager to get out of my comfort zone for once that I forget to do the necessary preparations.

I search for Yooyeon's familiar face in the crowd, but she's lost in the restless horde, probably twirling around with Yeonjun. I'm happy for her but all I feel is...detached. It's pathetic. I know. I'm too old not to know my constant fear of being the outsider, of being denied.

I'm halfway through my coke when I feel someone slide into the seat next to me, the barstool creaking under the weight. I didn't look up, hoping that it's just another stranger who comes to mind their own business. But then, he clears his throat, loud enugh for me not to ignore.

"Hey" a voice rings out, smooth but with a cocky edge.

I glanced over and there he is - perfect hair, gleaming jacket and a gold chain around hid neck. I might not be the best at socializing but I recognize the type immediately - the kind that's used to getting everything he wants. I can see it from his look, like he spends too much time in front of the mirror. He gives me a lazy smile, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Come here often?" He ask, leaning a bit too close. His cologne is strong and mixed with the sour stench of his breath, it's impossible not to flinch

"No" I say flatly, taking a sip of my coke.

"That's a shame. You should. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting alone"

I bristle at that, the compliment feeling more like an insult. "I'm not really into clubs" I reply, my lazy tone desperately showing my lack of interest.

He either doesn't know or care. Instead, he leans closer, his elbow casually resting on the bar next to me. "You just haven't found the right sort of people. I could show you a good time, you know"

I swallow a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm fine, thanks"

But he only smiles wider, as if my rejection is part of a game he's used to playing. "You sure? Cuz I don't see anyone with you here. How about I buy you another drink? Something better than coke"

"No, really. I'm good" I say, more firmly this time, hoping he will get the message. But the bastard won't take his eyes off me.

"You are playing hard to get, huh?" He tilts his head. "You wouldn't believe how many girls like you I have seen. Acting all tough, only to end up in my bed at the end"

That did the job for me. I straighten up in my seat. "Can you just leave me alone?"

"Oh, come one. I'm just-"

"Fuck off, Taeil"

A voice cuts through the tension and I instinctively turn my head toward the source. Sohyun stands a few feet away, arms folded. Her shirt has been tucked into her dark jeans, casual but sharp. Her eyes narrow onto the guy who is now known as Taeil, as if she's used to seeing the scene plays out.

Taeil straighten up, his smile wavering. "Relax. We are just talking"

"No, you are not" Sohyun steps closer, gaze hard and unblinking. "Here's what's gonna happen. You are going to walk away and leave her alone.

Taeil's smirk returns but it's not so sure as before. "And what exactly are you going to do if I don't?"

Sohyun's lips curve into a smile, one colder than any I have seen from her. She pulls out her phone, holding it up for him to see. "Let's see. I don't think your parents will be so happy to see their son acting like a druggie. Plus, it wouldn't be good for either you or your parents if the video end up in the wrong hands"

All the color drain out if Taeil's face, leaving him gaping. "You are blaffing" He protests, though the panic is clear as day in his voice.

"You know I'm not" Sohyun smiles like a predator who has cornered its prey. "So, fuck off"

For a moment, there's silence, the music filling in the temporary gap. Taeil shifts on his feet, his confidence all gone and finally, he lets out a sharp breath. "Fine. Whatever" His eyes flash with fury. "But this isn't over yet"

Sohyun gives him a mock wave, wriggling her fingers as he strides out of the club.

I exhale, realizing I have been holding my breath. I look over at Sohyun, who's still standing there with her phne. A neutral look has returned to her face. Like the Sohyun just a moment ago was a totally different person.

"You ok?" She asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"I - yeah. Thanks" I reply, still a little stunned.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile, genuine this time. "That guy's a creep"

I nod, processing everything that has happend in the last few minutes. Sohyun, the psychologist. Sohyun, the saviour. What isn't she?

She pulls up the stool next to mine, the one Taeil has occupied just a moment ago and settles in. I shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of her presence, of how close she is. The bar light cast little shadows on her face, illluminating the little details on her face I haven't noticed before. The tiny mole on her nose catches the light first, then the one under her left eye. They are so small, barely there but they stand out now that I'm seeing her up close.

"First time here?" She asks. How she knows, I have no idea. Maybe it's my my clothes that give it away.

"Yeah" I admits, a little sheepishly. "It's not really my kind of place"

Sohyun raises an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "Yeah, I figured. You don't exactly look like you are having the time of your life"

I let out a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

She smirks, her eyes flickering over to my outfit. "Just a little"

I glance down, fidgeting with the edge of my sweater, suddenly even more aware of my appearance. "It's not really.....I don't usually go to places like this"

"So, not a party person?" Sohyun's voice is more curious than judegemental.

"Not really" I admit. "I'm more of a...stay-in and read type"

Her smile grows and for a moment, the chaotic sounds of the club faded as if we are alone. "Well, you are here now. So might as well try to enjoy it"

She's so easygoing, so at ease with herself it makes me want to throw caution to the wind too. But then, I remembered that morning in the dining hall and my stomach twists. The memory is still nagging at the back of my mind. I bite my lower lip, debating whether or not I should bring up the subject.

Sohyun takes a sip from my nearly empty can of coke and before I can stop myself, the words spill out. "I saw you the other morning. At the dining hall"

Her eyebrows knit together in curiousity. "Oh?"

"I smiled at you" I say. "But you didn't see me"

Or act like you don't, I thought.

Her eyes widen for a moment before she speaks."Wait, really? Xinyu, I'm sorry. I didn't see you"

I blink. "You didn't?"

She shakes her head. "I swear. If I'd seen you, I would have smiled back. I promise. I guess I was just in my own head then. I'm sorry"

Her words are soft, delicate and sincere. It unravels the knot in my stomach I have pretended to be non-existent. Still, she could be lying but I decide to trust her,realizing how much I care about what she thinks of me.

I galnce away, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "It's okay" I mumble, sipping from the empty can of coke. "I just thought....maybe I'd misread things"

Sohyun gives me a small, warm smile. "You didn't misread anything. I'm sorry if you feel like that"

She's apologizing too much now it's starting to get uncomfortable. So I dismiss it with a nod.

Sohyun shifts in her seat, her eyes flickering down to my sweater, which have bunched up awkwardly from the way I have been sitting. Before I can fix it myself, she reaches over. Her finges gently tug at the hem of my sweater, smoothing it down without a second thought.

"There" she says, her hand lingering a moment longer more before she pulls it back.

I'm still processing the gesture when almost absentmindedly, she reaches out and brush a stray strand of my hair out of my eyes. Her fingertips skim the side of my face and for a moment, time slows down - just enough for me to notice the way her eyes soften.

"There you go" she says, leaning back. "Now you are perfectly suited for the night life"

We both smile at that and for a heartbeat, I swear I can feel something shift between us. Something I can't quite name. Something that might as well be a misinterpreted signal.

The air settles into a quiet lull, the ghost of her fingers still tingling on my skin. The warmth of the moment hangs awkwardly between us and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, actuely aware of the silent between us.

"So..." I clear my throat. "Do you come here alone too?"

The corner of her mouth quriks up like she finds my question amusing. "Alone?" she repeats. "No. Not really. I'm here with my friends most of the time"

I nod. "So, are they here tonight?"

She glances towards the dance floor. "Yeah. They are somewhere out there" she says with a small laugh. "I kinda slipped away for a bit. Needed a break"

A break. From what, though? The noise? The people? The club?

I hesistate for a second. "Not really your scene either?"

She gives me a sideway glance. "It's fun but...sometimes, I don't know. It can geta little old. Same people, same music"

"Yeah" I agree. "I get that"

She taps her fingers against the bar, thoughtful for a moment. "What about you? Do you come here yourself or did Yooyeon drag you here?"

My eyes widen. "You know Yooyeon?"

Sohyun chuckles softly. "We are friends on instagram. She followed me first, I think? She seems fun"

I can't help but laugh at that. "Yeah. She's definitely fun"

Sohyun tilts her head, as if searching for Yooyeon in the crowd. "She told me she's your roommate when I mentioned I see you in one of her stories. She's been hyping you up"

"She -what?" I stare at her, feeling the panic rising in my chest. "Hyping me up?"

Sohyun greans, leaning in just close enough for me to catch a faint scent of her perfume. "Yeah. She says you are a lot cooler than you let on"

I shake my head, laughing under my breath. "That's Yooyeon....being Yooyeon"

"Well, she's not wrong" Sohyun adds, her eyes catching mine for a split second before she goes back to staring at the dance floor.

The silence settles in again, like an early intermission. Sohyun's eyes flicker back to me and I try to ignore the way she's watching me like she's considering something. I sip at the can of Coke that has been emptied long since.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" She asks so casually, like it's something she asks anyone alone in a night like this.

"What?" I ask, unsure if I've heard it right over the loud music.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "It's too loud. And hot. Let's do something fun"

I hesistate, unknowingly squeezing the coke can flat. "Like what?"

Sohyun gives me a small smile, laced with certainity and mischeif. "Trust me. You will like it"

There's something in her voice that disarms me. Perhaps it's because this night has already been so surreal, with Yooyeon dragging me here, the drinks, the noise and then Taeil's annoying persistence. And now, Sohyun, who had seemingly ignored me is suddenly offering to whisk me away. It feels like too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

I find myself nodding faster than my brain can catch up. "Okay"

Sohyun stands, sliding a couple bills on the counter before I can protest. She doesn't say anything, just gestures towards the door, and I follow her out of the club.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The air outside is sharp and cold and for once I'm grateful for my out of place sweater. Sohyun, however, doesn't seem to be fazed. If not, she seems to be enjoying it.

The music fades into the distant as we walk in silence, winding through the quieter streets near the campus. I don't ask where we are going and she doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, we fall into step beside each other, our shoulders brushing ocassionally. My pulse is still racing, though I don't know if it's from the club or from the cold.

Sohyun's pace is unhurried, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and I keep my arms wrapped around myself, pulling my sweater tight. After a while, we reach one of the taller campus buildings, its ivy covered walls bathed in the moonlight. During the day, these buildings always looks heavy, weighted down by unknown legacies. But under the silvery gloom of night, it has all been replaced by a strange sort of calm.

"Come" Sohyun gestures towards the side door as she leads me in. The hallway is dim, lit only by the low, humming lights overhead. She doesn't say a word as she climbs up the stairs, up and up until we reach the top floor. I'm breathless by the time we come to a stop in front of an old, rusted door, with a faded sign that reads Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only.

Sohyun gives me a quick wink as she pushed open the door with a soft creak. "Not like anyone ever come here" She mutters to herself as she steps out into the night.

I follow her onto the roof, and for a moment, I'm stunned. The sky stretches out above us, a blanket of stars scattered across the black canvas of night. The city lights flicker below and I can still hear the distant sound of traffic but for the most part, it's quiet. Like the rooftop itself is another world within this world. The wind tugs at my sweater and I pull it even tighter around me, bracing against the sudden rush of cold.

Sohyun is already sitting at the edge of the roof, her legs dangling over the side, her gaze fixed on the stars. She pats the spot next to her and I sit, careful to keep a distance between us.

I tilt my head up, admiring the stars, feeling the enormity of the night settling down on me. "You come here often?"

"Yeah" Sohyun says, her voice soft. "Whenever I need to think. Or when I just need a breather"

I nod, unsure what to say. This isn't what I expected when she said something fun. But in a way, it's better.

We sit in silent for a moment, the only sounds the wind and the distant hum of the city below. This calm, it's peaceful and stirring at the same time. As if there's a deeper meaning to it that I can't quite grasp.

"It's funny" she says. "Back in the country, I used to lie out in the fields and just....watch the stars. Sometimes, I would stare at them for hours. It never fails to soothe me"

I watch the way her eyes trace the sky as if she's searching for something. To be honest, I have expected someone like her to be from a big city. An image of her anywhere else is unimaginable.

"Must've been nice" I murmur. "Being able to see them so clearly"

She nods. "Yeah. It's not the same here. The city kinda takes over. Light pollution and all"

I can hear the nostalgia in her voice and for a moment, I imagine her as a little girl lying under that wide country sky, her face lit by starlight. There's something tender about it, something that makes me want to reach for a fragment of her from a different time.

After a pause, I point up at the sky. "Well, we've got stars here too. Not as bright, but they are still there"

Sohyun tilts her head, following where I'm pointing and I can't help but smile a little. "Okay, bear with my nerdiness for a second"

She chuckles. "Go for it"

I lift my hand, tracing an invisible line through the air. "That's Orion. See the three stars right there, in a row? That's his belt"

Sohyun squints, trying to follow. "Oh, I think I see it"

"Orion was a hunter" my voice dropping slightly as I tell the story. "A really good one too. Some says he fell in love with the goddess Artemis but her brother, Apollo, wasn't too happy about it so he tricked Artemis into killing Orion" I pause. "She realized her mistake too late and heartbroken, she placed him among the stars so she can always see him"

The story hangs in the air when I finish. I glance at Sohyun, her face bathed in a soft glow. She's quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

"That's kind of sad" she says quietly.

"Yeah" I whisper. "It is"

I shift slightly, turning to face her and she does the same. Our eyes meet and for a moment, the world stills. I notice the way her hair flatters with the breeze, the city lights reflected in her eyes and the faint smile tug at her lips.

"You are really something, you know that?" she says, her voice low. "Is this your revenge for my espresso lecture?"

I blink, then smiles, feeling the tension melt away. "Maybe" I say, my voice almost teasing. "But instead of coffee, I use tragic mythological hunters"

Sohyun tilts her head, her smile widening. "Touché. You really know how to open-up someone"

"It's a natural talent" I shrug, although my sarcastic tone gives away the bluff.

"So, this is how you get back at people?" She continues, her voice still teasing. "By making them feel guilty for their ignorance about constellations"

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Please, you are not the first person to endure my mythology rants. Consider yourself lucky it wasn't longer"

"And I thought my espresso thesis was bad enough"

It's like we are back in the café except that now, I'm the one doing most of the talking. But we are still the same two people with their own crazy obsessions.

Then in the lightest of gestures, Sohyun reaches out. Her fingers find the sleeve of my sweater, gently tugging at the cuff, as though fixing it, like she did earlier. She looks at me, eyes warm and amused.

"Revenge or not" she says, letting her hand fall back to her side. "I think I like your stories"

I swallow, trying not to lose my footing in the closeness of the moment. "Well" I managed to say, my voice uneven. "Next time, I will make sure to pick a happier story"

Sohyun chuckles, leaning back, although her eyes never leave me. "I will hold you to that"

The air around us suddenly become charged with something unspoken. There's a quiet, almost reverent pause in the conversation as if neither of us wants to break whatever delicate thread is holding this moment together.

Sohyun shifts slightly, inching just the slightest to my side. The stars seem to burn brighter, and I find myself leaning into the silence, into the space between us that feels both heavy and light at the same time.

"Do you ever feel like....." Sohyun starts, her voice quiet, like she's speaking into the night as much as to me. "Like everything around you is waiting for something to happen?"

I blink, her words sinking into the stillness. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze flickers back to the stars. "Like....right now, for instance" Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something in her expression, like she's trying to find the right words. "It's like we are on the edge of something"

Her words send a shiver through me, not from the cold but the hidden meaning underneath. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's one I've been pushing aside ever since we met. The strange pull towards her, a quiet fascination that has grown into something else entirely, something that's so wrong and so right at once.

I glance at her and find myself staring at the mole under her left eye, like I'm seeing her for the first time.

"I know what you mean" I finally say, my voice almost too quiet like I'm afraid to break this fragile peace between us. My hands tighten around the railing and I glance down for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's like.....something have changed"

She moves an inch more closer, the space between us nearly non-existent now. I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat now. My breath catch in my throat as she leans in, enough to cover the remaining space distancing us.

"You are right" she says softly. "Something has changed"

It's so quiet, her voice almost swallowed by the night. MY gaze flickers to her lips for a second - a brief unintentional moment that I quickly pull back from. But I wasn't quick enough.

Sohyun notices. I can see it in her way her expression shifts. And she knows that I know that she knows. Her hand, resting casually on the railing, moves slightly, her fingers brushing against mine in the lightest of touches. It's barely a graze but it's enough to send electricity tingling through my nerves.

The moment stretches, suspended between us, as if we're waiting for something to happen or maybe just waiting for one of us to make a move. The tension is palpable now, not uncomfortable, but thick, charged with possibility.

I can't tell who moves first, or if we even move at all. It's like an invisible force has suddenly drawn us together. Her face is so close now, I can see the way my breath mingles with hers in the cool night air.

Then slowly - so slowly it feels like the world is holding its breath - Sohyun lifts her hand. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my sweater, smoothing a wrinkle near my shoulder like she did the last two times. But this time, it's different. There's an unspoken intentionality to it that makes my breath quickens.

Her hand lingers, tracing the fabric for a moment longer than necessary. And then, without breaking eye contact, she lifts her other hand, gently tucking a strand of stray hair way from my face and tucking it behind my ear. The tender touch send a warmth through me.

Suddenly, everything feels sharper, more vivid - the sound of the wind, the soft glow of the city lights, the way her fingers linger near my cheek, as if she's waiting for my permission to go further.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, not even sure what I'm trying to say, but needing to say something, anything, to break the tension between us.

But she doesn't move. She just watches me, her eyes searching mine, her hand still resting gently on my cheek. "Is this okay?" she asks as if it's a secret we only know.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak without stuttering, unable to think of anything but the way her breath feels against my skin.

And then so so slowly, it feels like time has stopped, she leans in.

Her lips brush against mine in the lightest of touches, barely a kiss at all, more like a promise, like she's testing the waters, waiting for me to pull away, to tell her to stop.

But I don't. I won't.

Because in that moment, everything have ceased to exist - the city, the stars, the quiet night around us. All that's left is the warmth of her lips, the way they press against mine, gentle but certain.

I kiss her back, just as softly, just as tentatively. And for a moment, it feels like my life has reached its epitome.

Sohyun's hand, resting near my cheek, slides down to cup my jaw, her fingers warm against my skin. She tilts her head slightly, pressing her lips more firmly against mine, and I feel a soft sigh escape me before I could stop it.

My hands, awkward at first, find their way to her waist. I hold her there, not too tight, but enough to feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric. She responds by pulling me closer, her fingers slipping into my hair, tugging me gently, deepening the kiss.

Her hands move from my jaw, sliding down my neck, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. My heart is pounding louder than the wind around us, around the city below. The kiss becomes more insistent, more desperate, as if we are trying to say something through it, something words can't describe.

Sohyun's lips parts with mine and for a moment, I think she's finally pulling away. But instead, she moves closer, her breath ghosting against my jawline. A soft shiver runs through me when I feel the first press of her lips against my neck, light and teasing.

Her mouth moves slowly, gently exploring, like she's savoring the taste of my skin. Her lips trail down the side of my neck, and when she presses a firmer kiss jut below my ear, I can't stop the quiet gasp that betrays my lips.

Sohyun hears it. Of course, she does. And I feel her smile against my skin.

"You are so sensitive here, Xinyu" she whipsers before her lips continue their path lower, her hands finding the back of my neck.

When she presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my neck, her tongue barley flicking against my skin, I feel my whole body tense with the intensity of it. My hands tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer, yearning for more.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice and her response is to kiss me harder, her lips hot against the sensitive skin of my neck.

The world won't stop spinning, I reduced to nothing but the sensation of her mouth, the warmth of her body against mine and the quiet, breathless sounds that fill the space between us. It's overwhelming and yet, I can't imagine it stopping anytime soon.

When it finally does, I can still feel the ghost of her lips lingering on my skin. I feel her breath, close to my neck for a second longer before she pulls back. The cool night air rushes in where her lips had been, but the heat she left behind stays, radiating beneath my skin.

I open my eyes, barely realizing I have closed them and glance at her. Sohyun doesn't say a word. She just leans in, her dark locks scattering as she rests her head on my shoulder. Her gaze is fixed on the stars, unblinking as if she's trying to imprint them to memory.

But then, without looking away, she lets out a quiet breath and says, so softly I almost miss it.

"Fucking Apollo"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

#triples #park sohyun #zhou xinyu #kpop fluff #girl group fluff #kpop fanfic

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writers-potion · 1 month ago

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this is a little hyper specific lmao but i was wondering if you have any advice on writing a pov character being mysterious? tyyy

Writing A Mysterious POV Character

Thanks for the question!

Here are some characteristics that I think makes a POV character "mysterious"

The reader is not meant to understand everything the POV character says, describes or alludes to.

The POV character actively holds off information from the readers either because (1) it's hard for them to talk about it or (2) they don't think it's important, somehow.

They reconstruct the narrative in the way they perceive it, not following the chronological order of events and often providing piecemeal information that only (if ever) comes together at the end.

The POV character simply has a wholly different perspective that a human reader will have difficulties understanding (i.e. story told from an animal or alien's POV)

I think the best way to portray this is to provide examples, which I think qualify as mysterious narrators. Note that not all mysterious narrators are unreliable narrators, although they could be. Here are the selected narrators and a few extracts for illustration purposes, divided by loosely defined subcategories (there can be overlaps!):

Incomprehensive Jargon & Allusions

Given that you can do this without boring or genuinely pissing off the reader, using lots of jargon, making allusions to things your target audience will probably not know to create atmosphere can be effective.

I recommend having a strong thematic core to justify all that jargon and reference, though.

Richard Papen from <The Secret History> by Donna Tartt

The characters talk and make references to Greek/the Classics. Arguably, it is not "incomprehensible", but the entire book is tirelessly full of them and unless you are a scholar in a related field, very unlikely to know all the Greek/ancient works being referenced all the time.

by M.L.Rio

Interesting style where the characters talk and even think in Shakespeare. They literally quote lines from Shakespeare to talk to each other. Not as difficult to follow as <The Secret History>, given that these are q famous plays (Hamlet, Macbeth, etc.) but it certainly adds well to the mystery at the heart of the book's plot.

---

Witholding Information

Have your narrator subtely refer to a large event in their past (a murder, a traumatic memory, etc) but never telling the reader upfront, making them only make implied guesses.

The only reservation I would have for this option is to not annoy the reader by letting them know the narrator has information, but is somehow not telling them. It would help to have a clear reason for them to not talk about it: e.g. they haven't accepted the past themselves, they're too scared to talk about it, etc.

by Eliza Clark

In here, the narrator has killed someone in the past - a fact that only becomes kind of clear at the end. Even then, the murder is never referenced because this narrator has some serious mental issues, but when you look back with this knowledge at the end of the book, her behavior starts making more sense.

---

Reconstructing the Narrative

Don't go in chronological order. Use time skips, or invent a new system for the narrator to arrange their memories and thus, retell the story. This gives the narrator power over the narrative because they've seen the whole thing play out, but the readers are getting bits and pieces, trying to get the puzzle pieces to fall together.

Other options:

POV character has amnesia

POV character has dementia

Using narrative interruptions that are in a completely different style (can work for 3rd person, look at Olivie Blake's work referenced below)

Olivie Black's <Alone With You in the Ether>

Using screenplay-like interruptions to the narrative that limits the reader's access to the characters' minds. Also creates interesting tone.

Kim Youngha's <Diary of the Murderer>

[I don't have pictures for this because I only have the Korean version....but really worth mentioning]

Here, the narrator has dementia and cannot fully remember the murders he has committed in the past. He is also an unreliable narrator who can only remember things in bits and pieces - thus the typical chronological order is interrupted.

---

"Non-Human" Perspectives

Give yourself a narrator that is not human, or is "dehumanized" in some way (lack of emotion, inability to relate to others, etc.) to view the entire world from a perspective not often experienced by the average human.

Death as a narrator from <The Book Thief> by Marcus Zusak.

Zusak inserts these little "pronouncements" or "interruptions" to the narrative and the calm but transcending tone constantly raises questions.

---

Do note that the overall tone of the novel contributes significantly to how the narrator comes across to the readers. Many of the works above also deal with "reality vs. unreality" as a theme, which is augmented by the use of a mysterious narrator that prompts the reader to challenge

Hope this helps, Happy writing :)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

Note

Do you write pregnant sex?👀 If so, gentle Dom Grandmaster Bi-han x self conscious pregnant reader?

If not, do not feel pressured to write. Sending love💖, your blog is great!🙂

꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧 ꒰ ♡ ꒱

꒰ ♡ ꒱ TW: afab anatomy, lactation!kink, v!sex, soft sex, fingered, not revised, pregnant sex, mother/father used to refer to the reader, praise, soft dom!bi han, bi han!husband.

Bi Han was never a gentle man, your sex was always aggressive and practically animalistic, with Lin Kuei grandmaster growling and fucking you anywhere he could - however, upon discovering your pregnancy, he forced himself to be the more gentle.

He loved watching your belly grow slowly over a few weeks, knowing that it was his seed in there, you noticed his change, especially in bed... Your husband helped you relieve the pressure of pregnancy - in addition to generating a strong desire in helping to alleviate the milk heaviness of your breasts.

That night, he admired you in the dim orange light, watching you with your dress loose from your growing pregnancy.

"-I wouldn't want anyone to carry my child but you." Bi Han spoke cutting through the silence, standing up from the armchair while putting away the book she was reading-and reaching between your legs to caress and squeeze your growing belly.

"-Besides, you look even more beautiful with that belly, you know?" He continued with a playful growl, it was the few times in years or months that you saw him smile sincerely, he was anxious... But mainly, with such strong desires for you like that, round, pretty and so... Delicate.

Your partner noticed the milk leaking from the cleavage of your thin fabric, hurting them while you complained about the weight and pressure applied to your body by the natural process, so, he soon had an idea that could satisfy your needs and his as well.

"-Just lie down and I'll take care of it for you."

His voice was steady despite the growing lust emanating from him. Bi han reached out, gently grabbing one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, applying pressure to help release more milk. As he did so, he couldn't resist moving closer, his lips brushing your shoulder blade before moving down towards your neck.

"-You smell so good my bunny... And that little one inside you is already very strong... I promise to be the best father I can be." He whispered, practically moaning, his hands moved down, caressing your belly, feeling its softness and warmth.

"-I can't wait to see that belly grow even bigger and bigger, you just make me proud (Y/N), I'm the happiest fucking man in the world to have you." Bi Han spoke with his eyes focused on yours, his cold fingers traced a pattern on your nipples, until he completely removed your dress, his eyes widened in admiration when he saw your naked form, admiring how incredible you looked pregnant with his child.

"-You... will be the most beautiful father/mother anyone has ever seen" He then moved his mouth to your skin, sucking and teasing your breasts vigorously, he moved on to the other breast while his hand continued its obscene exploration of your regions bottom, finding the sweet channel of your swollen pussy, massaging the aching folds. With each thrust of his tongue against your sensitive bud, he slowly pushed two fingers inside your tight cunt, slowly stretching it. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced; more intimate, but equally forbidden and beautiful.

"-You taste... so delicious..." Sub zero moaned, sucking harder on your nipple, extracting all the possible milk he could - it hurt slightly, but the sensation was extremely comforting compared to the pain you felt all day. His hands held your waist tightly as he looked into your eyes, looking for any sign of discomfort.

"-You are the most beautiful little thing I have ever seen, no lin kuei treasure, silver, gold or diamond compares to you my sweet little thing." Bi han whispered in your ear, lightly pinching your earlobe, he leaned forward, kissing you passionately, your tongue tangling with his, while his free hand went down between your legs, massaging your clit harder.

"-Let me know if I'm hurting you or if you want more." The combination of pleasure and intimacy was driving him crazy. His shaft contracted violently in his pants, stretching the fabric, with every angelic and chaste sound that came from your lips because of him, he knew how to relieve you-and most of all excite you.

"-Fuck, you really look like an angel now..." He murmured, unable to resist any longer; Standing right above you, he grabbed your hips and lifted you up until both your legs wrapped around his waist comfortably, he rested both muscular arms under you, as he lightly and slowly thrust his cock into your wetness, he was never so gentle with you... But the cyromancer had changed, with a slow and careful thrust, he closed his eyes, opening his mouth as he thrust himself inside your warm body, your walls swallowing every inch he had to offer.

You could look directly at every furl, every expression of his above you, how his length was only half inside you, how he didn't want to hurt you and just loved and adored you, every hot yet cold kiss placed on your face, every whisper of approval calling you "good boy/good girl" that he said between moans between cuts, was like a damn dream that you never wanted to end.

"-Ah- Fuck! So tight baby- Mmm-" Bi Han panted between each thrust, you could hear the wet sound and rhythm of his balls hitting your ass, how he was sighing beautifully as he controlled himself from slamming you into the mattress.

His hands gripped your ass tightly, lifting it a little before slamming back onto his dick, claiming ownership over you, he sped up but at a point where you felt pleasure, moaning his name loudly and cum - he loved you seeing it like that, pouring out compliments about how beautiful you were, how perfect you were, how you were his and his alone, his hips rocked back and forth rhythmically, creating a mesmerizing soundtrack for their intimate dance, however, even if he wanted it to last forever, he really needed to cum and especially to make you cum.

Sub zero grunted a few things, bending over again and sucking the sweet, thin milk from your breasts, pushing the head of his dick right into your G-spot, while you screamed that you were going to cum, he just sped up, being careful with your body and belly, encouraging you to let go of everything on him. He was there with you, teetering on the edge of release.

"-J-Just Tell me when... tell me when... Baby... Oh Yes- Fucking hell-" was all you could hear before milking his cock hard as you held on to one of his arms, your side in bed. Bi Han couldn't hold back any longer, the load erupted from him, filling his belly and breasts with hot seed.

His thrusts gradually slowed down, finally stopping inside you, he remained buried inside you, feeling every contraction of your pussy around his member. "-Ahh... That was... fucking incredible my love..." The grandmaster managed to say between panting breaths. With a groan of satisfaction, he pulled out of you slowly, his cock leaving trails of cum behind it. Wiping away some of the excess on your belly with the tips of his fingers, he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and remained sitting on your side, breathing heavily, Absorbing the consequences of the lustful and loving encounter between the two of you, Bi Han's mouth was dripping with your milk, as he sighed heavily, brushing away some stray strands of your hair, as he returned to massaging your stomach and pussy, you could see the love and careful with his brown irises.

Bi Han looked at you, marveling at how beautiful you looked, even covered in sweat and cum - He reached out, running his thumb along your cheek, catching some of the remaining beads of sweat. "-We did something special together, didn't we?"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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spilledinkandtears · 1 year ago

Text

no matter how loud I scream "I love you", it doesn't seem to matter

#spilled ink #spilled words #extracts from a book i'll never write #3am thoughts #excerpt from a book i'll never write #excerpt from a story i'll never write #spilled thoughts #extract from a book i'll never write #excerpt from my life #spilled tears #unrequited feelings #unrequited love #drunkposting #i love him #i love you

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willalove75 · 9 months ago

Text

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 24 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: The interrogation of the prisoner begins and tensions rise as the truth unfolds.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Some canon violence, angst that melts into sweet fluff.

Notes: Part 24! I'm so sorry this look literally forever! I don't know why, but I had such a hard time getting through this chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! The next few chapters will be more light-hearted and fun and I'm excited to finally be able to get to them!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

Alcina runs her gloved fingers through your hair before she steps out of the shadows towards the prisoner, leaving you out of sight but within earshot. The girls had dragged him out of his cell and seated him in an old wooden chair.

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela are taunting the prisoner, unaware of their mother's presence. The moment sound of Alcina's heels hit the stone floor with a "CRACK" the girls immediately fall in line.

The prisoner looks up with a terror in his eyes that grows as he takes in the sight before him. The small space of the dungeon makes Alcina look even taller, more imposing, more terrifying. She confidently and unapologetically takes up the space she occupies which makes her all the more intimidating. Never in his short life has the prisoner felt smaller, weaker and as helpless as he does in this moment.

"Well, well. If it isn't our little hunter." Alcina says, her grin widening as she leans into the prisoners space. "Daughters, has he given you any useful information?"

"Not yet mother." Bela says.

"We were just about to start playing with him." Cassandra says with a sadistic smile.

"There will be plenty of time to play with him later girls. Until then, let the interrogation commence." She says as she stands to her full height and raises her arms, signaling for the girls to take over before stepping off to the side. Alcina takes a seat in a larger chair and crosses her legs. She pulls out a lighter and lights the cigarette sitting at the end of her quellazaire before taking a deep inhale. The smoke dances around her as she exhales, curling almost beautifully as it glides through the air.

"We're going to start off with an easy question." Bela says with a sickly sweet tone of voice. "What's your name, little one?"

The prisoner stares at Bela with a blank look on his face, too terrified to respond.

"It will do you well to participate." Alcina says. "I make no promises that my daughters won't do all that they can to extract an answer from you."

The casual tone of her voice is unsettling. Cassandra steps in front of him, gently dragging her sickle down the side of his face but doesn't break skin.

"Or you can keep that mouth of yours shut. I do love being able to dig the answers out of our prisoners."

She presses the sickle harder into his face and a trickle of blood begins to run down his dirty skin.

"Cassandra." Alcina warns.

Cassandra pulls away with a dissatisfied grunt and returns to her spot next to Daniela.

"Shall we try again?" Bela asks, spinning her sickle in her hand. "What's your name?"

"D-dorin."

"See how easy that was?" Bela says with a wide, bloody smile. "Now, how far away was the base from where mother found you?"

"Less than a quarter mile."

Bela walks over to one of the tables with a book sitting on it and writes something down.

"Wonderful. Did they attack mother as soon as they found her?"

"N-no." He says, his eyes shifting from Bela to Alcina. "They noticed her following two of the members and led her away from the base before attacking."

Bela writes in the book and turns to Cassandra, nodding for her to take over.

Cassandra circles Dorin for a few moments before stopping behind him and leaning into his ear.

"BOO!"

Dorin yelped, jumping in his seat as Cassandra laughed at him; Bela and Daniela joining in on the laughter. Alcina even chuckled as she took another drag from her cigarette.

She rounded the chair and leaned in, her face becoming uncomfortably close with his, enough so that he winced and pulled back a little.

"Tell me, what were you all planning?"

"Th-they want to attack the four lords."

"When?" Cassandra growled.

"I don't know, they didn't say-"

Cassandra presses her sickle against his neck.

"Do not lie to me."

"I'm not! I promise! I really don't know when, they never told me a date! I wasn't a high enough rank to know things like that. All I knew was that they wanted to attack all four of the lords at once, I swear!" He says as tears run down his cheeks.

Cassandra withdraws her sickle and circles the chair again.

"And just how many of there are you?"

"Well, there were maybe fifty of us, but at least half of them were killed."

"Fifty? That's all?"

"They were recruiting more."

"How many more?"

"Hundreds."

"How?"

"From nearby villages and other countries. Sixty of them were coming in next week."

Cassandra grills him for the next few minutes on exactly where the hunters were coming from, what weapons they were supposed to be bringing and an overall layout of the base. When she was finished she stood next to Bela and Daniela.

"Daniela, darling, do you have any questions for the prisoner?" Alcina asks.

Daniela walks up to him and circles him a few times. She brushes his messy hair out of his face and squishes his cheeks between her hands.

"No, he's cute though, mother!" She says with an excited smile.

Alcina raises an eyebrow towards her daughter and with a huff, Daniela walks away and stands next to her sisters. The sound of heels on the stone floor fill the dungeon once more as Alcina walks up towards the prisoner.

"Was that all of the information you know?" She asks.

Dorin swallows hard and nods his head.

"Yes."

Alcina growls and leans in towards him.

"It would be in your very best interest not to lie to me."

"I-I'm not. I swear! That's it!"

"I will give you one more chance. I know you are not telling me everything." Alcina hears his heartrate grow faster and faster, not only is he lying through his teeth, he's more terrified than he was before. "What more information are you keeping from me?"

In the shadows you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. "Just tell them you idiot!" You scream in your head.

"Nothing. I've told you everything I know."

In that moment you knew he sealed his fate, but a tiny bit of you held out hope that he's either just too stupid or too scared to say the rest. He's just a kid after all, isn't he?

"LIAR!" Alcina screams in his face, causing him to flinch. "If there is one thing in this world that I detest most, it is a liar. And I will make sure you spill every ounce of truth." She says as she elongates her claws.

"I swear! That's everything! Please!"

Alcina retracts her claws and stands back up. She puts out the cigarette at the end of her quellazaire and lays it down on the table.

"Would you like to know how I know you are not being truthful?" Dorin doesn't respond, he just stares at her. "Because a little fly told me you had a visitor yesterday, one you poured your pathetic little heart out to."

Alcina walks over towards you and places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you out from the shadows. If Dorin had any color left in his face, it would have drained right then and there.

"You- you told them?" He asks in disbelief.

"I told you to tell them everything!" You say, as you walk towards him.

"You promised-"

"Enough!" Alcina says. "I know you are leaving out a very important piece of information. She told me everything."

You see something inside Dorin snap.

"You fucking bitch!!" He screams.

He lunges forward at you and you notice the glint of something sharp in his hand. Alcina quickly grabs your arm and pulls you backwards with such force you nearly fall over. You can feel the rush of air pass by as the object in Dorin's hand just misses you as you're pulled away. Cassandra jumps forward and sinks her sickle into his shoulder and pulls him back down into his seat. Dorin cries out in pain and you hear the sound of something hitting the ground. Alcina catches you before you fall and in an instant she's on her knees in front of you patting you down, checking for injuries.

"Draga, draga mea are you alright? Are you hurt?" She asks as her eyes scan every inch of you.

"No, no I'm okay, I promise. He didn't get me." Looking over her shoulder, you see a jagged piece of scrap metal laying on the floor. He must have found it in his cell and kept it up his sleeve as a makeshift weapon.

Alcina exhales a breath of relief before fury takes over her eyes. Her head snaps in Dorin's direction, all of her rage pointed directly at him.

"How DARE you try and lay a hand on what is MINE."

A look of confusion crosses Dorin's face until he registers that Alcina now has a protective arm around you and the interaction the two of you just had.

"I knew I never should have trusted you!" He screams at you. "You lying fucking bitch! You tricked me!"

"No! I didn't! I promise I was trying to help you!" You say as Alcina's grip around you tightens ever so slightly when she hears your voice shake.

"You told them everything! About the base, the hunters, about their cold weakness!" The three girls freeze in place when they hear him say that, their eyes go wide as they look over at Alcina and you. Each girl had a different look in their eyes. Cassandra was absolutely furious, Bela was shocked and Daniela was fearful. All three of them shared a look of disappointment and maybe even a hint of betrayal when they realized you both kept this information from them. "I bet you even told them about my mother and sisters in the village you traitor!" Dorin screams.

Alcina's head slowly turns to look at you, her eyes wide. With her still kneeling next to you she's much closer. So much so that you can see the flecks of grey and a small ring of red around the iris of her eyes.

"His what?" She hisses.

As you look up into her eyes tears begin to roll down your cheek. Alcina's eyes are filled with rage and disbelief. Looking back towards Dorin his eyes are wide as saucers.

"I didn't tell them that." You say softly, defeated.

"Well girls, it seems a little trip down to the village is in order." Alcina says with such ice in her voice it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"No!" Both you and Dorin cry out.

Alcina's gaze snaps down to you.

"Al-" Her gaze at you hardens. "M-my lady, please, please don't, they're innocent in all of this."

"They had nothing to do with this! It was all my dad and brothers and you already killed them!" He yells.

Alcina looks over to Dorin and stands back up. She runs her fingers through your hair as she steps away from you, a subtle hint of comfort as she walks closer to him.

"You see, all of this could have been avoided if only you were honest from the beginning. Your carelessness, your selfishness is going to be the cause of the rest of your family's demise."

"Please! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt them!" He cries as he tries to stand up but Cassandra sinks her sickle deeper into his clavicle, causing him to yelp in pain as she pulls him back down.

"I'm sure the women in your family will make a nice vintage for next season." She says all too casually before letting out a deep, dark chuckle.

"You're all fucking monsters! All of you! You're all going to burn in hell!"

The laugh Alcina lets out is chilling. She leans in towards Dorin and says with a sickly-sweet smile, "you're already here." Before standing up to her full height and laughing out loud once more.

"Daughters, I believe we've heard enough from our prisoner. You're free to do what you want with the man-thing." The smile on the girls' faces grow wide, sending shivers down your spine. Alcina turns and stares down at you. "And you, you are coming with me. You and I must have a conversation."

She begins to guide you away from Dorin and you hear him yell out "I hope she fucking kills you!"

You stop and turn back towards him, his eyes are filled with hate and they're directed right at you. Alcina places her hand on your shoulder and continues to guide you out of the dungeon.

The moment the door shuts you hear the girl's laughter and the sound of Dorin screaming in pain. The sound of a sickle slicing through him makes it to your ears and you freeze as your stomach twists violently. He starts to gurgle on his screams and you feel the blood drain from your face.

Alcina looks down at you and sees you frozen in horror. The tears flow down your cheeks faster and you begin to tremble as the girls' laughter gets louder and louder.

"Come, draga." She says, putting a hand on the back of your shoulder and begins to guide you away from the dungeon.

It felt like you and Alcina were walking for an eternity. The screams from behind the door seemed to follow you as far as possible. As the awful sounds ring in your ears the memory of Alcina's claws punching through Stefana's body resurface. At the time you were too dazed to register any noises but your mind put the sound you heard just after the door closed to that visual and you begin to tremble more. Alcina kept a firm hand against your back - it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Every so often her thumb would rub against your shirt, providing a silent comfort while the two of you made your way out of the basement.

It wasn't until you began to walk up the stairs did the horrible sounds finally begin to fade out completely. When the two of you emerged from the basement a few maids stopped and stared at your disheveled state. Mixed looks of fear, pity, and disgust crossed their faces for a brief moment before the low growl Alcina let out sent them scurrying from the room.

With a large hand still resting on your shoulder, Alcina led you up the stairs towards her chambers. As you walked through the halls you looked up to steal a glance of Alcina's face. Her chin was held high as usual but you noticed the slight furrow in her brows and that her jaw was clenched tight. She seemed focused on where the two of you were going but you could tell at the same time she was deep in thought. Quickly you averted your eyes before she caught you looking at her.

Upon reaching her chambers, Alcina led you into the room before shutting the door behind her and guided you towards the chaise lounge in the corner. Once you were settled she walked over to her vanity and opened one of the drawers, taking out a case of cigarettes and a lighter. Neither one of you have uttered a word since the dungeon and you weren't about to be the one to break the silence.

Luckily, you stopped trembling. Only your hands had a slight shake to them as you tried your hardest to forget about the noises and thoughts plaguing your mind.

Alcina took a deep drag of her cigarette, her shoulders dropping some of the stress sitting on them as she exhaled. After a few more silent drags she stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and made her way across the room, taking the spot next to you on the lounge.

There were a few tense moments where you weren't sure if you were going receive the brunt of Alcina's anger and frustrations or if she was going to be the soft, caring woman you've grown to love. It seemed that Alcina contemplated that thought herself before sighing and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Hesitantly, you turned towards her and met her gaze. In her eyes you could see the frustration, but more than that, you saw the concern she had for you.

Alcina cupped your face and wiped away the tear streaks with her thumb.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

"Mhm." You say, nodding into her hand. "The noises brought me back to when I fell down the stairs and, I don't know I just-" you trail off as your anxiety begins to build again.

Alcina immediately picks up on it and wraps her arm around you, pulling you close. Her lips meet your temple and she places a light kiss against your hairline. Instead of pulling away, you feel Alcina lean her head against yours.

"Shh, it's alright draga. We don't need to revisit that day. It's over." You nod against her and she moves to rest her chin on top of your head. "I did instruct the girls to wait until we were much further away before they began... playing with our prisoner. However, I think hearing him discuss their cold weakness set them off. I was half expecting Cassandra to go after him right then and there."

"I'm surprised she didn't, she was so mad." Fresh tears begin to prick at your eyes. "They all looked so hurt that we didn't tell them. I hate that that's how they found out. I told him to tell you everything, I told him!"

Alcina pulls you into her lap as you start to cry again, gently shushing you.

"You did everything you could draga. There was nothing more you were able to do. You risked your life to help a stranger and he repaid you by lying and then trying to kill you. Everything that happened to him after that was deserved."

"Is it naïve of me to think he only reacted like that because he's a kid and that he was just terrified?"

Alcina exhales from above you before lifting her head and bringing a gloved finger underneath your chin. She lifts your gaze to meet hers and tilts her head, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Do you truly need me to answer that question?"

"No."

"Draga, he tried to kill you. If I didn't pull you back, if I took just a second longer to react he would have-" Alcina's grip on you tightens and she shakes her head. "I don't even want to think of what could have happened." She says softly.

"Thank you for saving me." You say, burying your face into the soft fabric of her dress.

"I will always protect you, iubirea mea. Always."

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before feeling a shift in the air. Stealing another look up at Alcina you notice her staring off into the distance, a pensive look on her face. Her eyes drift down and lock onto yours for a moment before she looks ahead once more.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask.

Alcina lets out an almost exaggerated exhale and looks down at you. She steels her expression in a way that makes her completely unreadable and you feel your heart sink in your chest. Alcina leans down and places a kiss to the top of your head before shifting you off of her lap and onto the chaise lounge.

"No." She says as she stands up and makes her way over to her vanity. "But that does not mean that I am happy with you."

You drop your gaze down to your lap, nodding in understanding as you fiddle with your hands. Off to the side you hear the metal cigarette case snap shut and the sound of the lighter flicking a few times before it lights. The faint crackle of the end of her cigarette is the only sound that fills the room until she exhales a cloud of smoke into the air.

"You do understand why I am not happy with you at the moment, yes?" She asks as she turns towards you.

"Yes, I think so." Alcina tilts her head at you, silently telling you to continue. "Because I didn't tell you about his family in the village?"

"Yes. Precisely." She says before taking another drag. "What I cannot seem to wrap my mind around is the fact that we spoke just last night about being completely honest with one another. Again. And again, you were not honest with me. Can you tell me why that is? Because I am having quite a difficult time understanding why you lied to me, again."

Peeling your eyes away from hers, you look down at your hands in your lap while you squirm under her gaze.

"I - I didn't think it was important." You say quietly before looking up at her again.

You can see the anger that flashes in her eyes, it almost makes you wince but stop yourself from reacting.

"That is not for you to decide." The iciness of her voice sends a shiver down your spine that you try to suppress. "You do not get to deem whether or not the information my prisoner gives you is important. Unless you've forgotten your place? In case you have, let me remind you. Just because we are in a relationship in no way means that your word outweighs mine. This is still my castle, my domain. It is my word that is law here, not yours. If he told you as little as when he last sneezed, I expect you to relay that information to me because it is not your place to decide what is and what is not important. As deeply as I care for you, you are still my maiden. I am your countess, your mistress and you will obey the rules I have in place. Do I make myself clear?"

Part of you wished she would have just yelled at you because the steady, controlled tone of her voice was far more intimidating than when she yells. You know she's angry and you can see under her hardened exterior that deep down she's scared, but her words cut into you and make you feel incredibly small. All you can do in response is nod, not trusting your voice to crack or for the tears that were building to not fall.

"Speak." She commands.

"Yes ma'am. I understand." You say with a shaking voice.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I - I'm sorry."

Looking down into your lap you see the tears fall onto your dress. Never before have you felt so small, so insignificant. Her words felt like a sharp slap across the face. Was that how she looks at you? As something that belongs to her? Will she ever consider you an equal? Were you just looking at your relationship through rose colored glasses this whole time?

"Is that all?" You ask. Alcina pauses mid-drag and looks over at you with an unsure look on her face but you don't look up at her. "I apologize for overstepping my lady. I will make sure it never happens again. If that's all, I would like to retire to my chambers now."

It took Alcina by surprise hearing you call her "my lady" and speaking to her like every other maid in the castle. Before she could register the words coming out of her mouth she heard herself say "y-yes, that's all."

She watched you in near disbelief as you walked out of her chambers with tears streaming down your cheeks and your eyes trained on the ground. Her eyes closed as you shut the door behind you and she felt tears roll down her cheeks, the gravity of her words finally settling in.

The harsh words she spoke were out of fear. Fear for her daughters, for you, for her staff. Who knows what the prisoners family knows or how involved they really were in the hunters group. For all she knew they were regrouping in the days the prisoner has been sitting in the dungeon, getting a head start on their plans. It hurt her finding out that even after the conversation you had last night that you didn't tell her everything he said. Of course it meant a great deal to her that you told her all of the most crucial details, but such a small detail such as his family in the village going under the radar could end up being a much bigger issue in the future.

But how could you possibly know that? Alcina crushed the cigarette in her hands as she put herself in your shoes. You have no experience with groups such as these, you have no idea the true danger that they could impose if not dealt with properly. In your mind, the women in the village were just innocent lives you were trying to spare - just as you were trying so hard to spare the life of the prisoner. Alcina curses herself for being so cold towards you, for making you feel like you were her property. Like you were so far below her. Meanwhile in reality, your thoughts and opinions meant so very much to her.

She snaps out of her thoughts when she hears you crying in your bedroom. Her heart breaks once more knowing how deeply she's hurt you. She debated for a moment whether or not she should go and comfort you or give you space; but last time she did that you barely left your room. For the first time in decades Alcina feels nervous, unsure of what to do. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she questions whether or not she'll be able to look herself in the eye if she left you in such a state again. Would she be able to forgive herself if she didn't go and try to right her wrong right this minute? Before she could even finish the thought she knows what her answer is.

Alcina removes her gloves, setting them down next to her hat and stands up, making her way out of her chambers and to your door. She debates on knocking but forgoes it and slowly opens your bedroom door. Seeing you curled up in your bed in tears breaks her heart and she makes her way to the edge of it before removing her heels and lays down behind you, wrapping herself around your tiny figure.

The sound of your door opening pulls you from your thoughts but the tears continue to fall. Soft clicks of Alcina's heels on the wood floor reach your ears before she stops at the edge of your bed. A few moments later the bed dips behind you and you feel her lay down, wrapping her arm around you and curling her knees up, cuddling you in her embrace.

Laying here in her arms feels like the complete opposite of the harsh words she spoke to you just a few minutes ago. The push and pull of emotion is almost too much to bear and you cry harder as she comforts you.

"What am I to you?" You ask through tears. "Am I just your property? Just something for you to control?"

"No." Alcina says with a heavy exhale. "You are everything to me my love."

"Then why? Why did you say those things? Will I ever be enough for you?" Alcina's grip around you tightens at your words.

"Oh, draga. You are, you are more than enough. I fear I will never be enough for you. I am so sorry for being so cold, so unloving towards you." She sniffles behind you and nuzzles into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent. "I was scared when I said those things."

There was a vulnerability to her voice that you're not sure you've ever heard before. It was like you could feel her walls crumbling as she laid behind you.

"What scared you?"

"All I could think of was that that man-things family has been continuing to plan their attack the days he was in the dungeon. That they are more involved than he said. That my girls could be in real danger. That you could be in real danger."

"But he said -"

"Darling," Alcina breathes. "One of my favorite things about you, one of the things I love most about you is that you always, always try to see the best in people. Even if it's just the smallest piece. For so many years I only ever looked at how awful, how horrible the world is. I forgot to look for the beauty, for the positive things even if they weren't the most obvious. My world has blossomed in front of me because you showed me that there is beauty everywhere, that there is always a bright side, even when it's dim."

Alcina nuzzles into the back of your neck, placing a kiss behind your ear before continuing.

"But my love, you cannot believe everything that you hear, even though you may desperately want to. I know he said they weren't involved but what if he lied? What if they were involved and play a vital hand in this attack they're planning? Maybe they weren't involved but now that half of their family has been slaughtered they decide to join in? I know you wanted to protect them, because in your world they are just innocent bystanders. That if they aren't involved then they're not a liability. When I said those things I did not take your perspective into consideration, and I am so sorry for that. But you have to know that in my world, in this world that you're in now, there are rarely such things as innocent bystanders. There are so many variables and even the smallest, most innocuous detail may seem irrelevant but could end up being a large threat to all of us.

I realize that there are so many things you don't know about what really goes on in our world and it was not fair of me to be angry with you for not knowing things you could never have possibly known. I promise that I will do better and that I will teach you more about this world we are in. But my love, I need you, from here on out, to be completely honest with me, especially about things like this. Our lives could very well depend on it."

She exhales and pulls you tighter against her chest, almost as if she's afraid that if she doesn't hold you close, you'll slip through her arms and never return.

"I may be your countess and mistress, but I am also your partner, your lover. Yes I have the final word but your thoughts and opinions hold more weight than you know. I love you so much draga mea, so, so much. And I am so sorry for hurting you again." She says as a few tears roll down her cheeks.

"I never thought of those things." You say quietly.

"I know, my love. I never should have expected you to know. After decades of dealing with these issues I forgot that not everyone that comes into this castle sees things the same way that we do."

"I'm sorry, Alcina."

Hearing her name fall from your lips brought a smile to Alcina's face. Part of her worried that her words set back so much of the progress the two of you had made. Hearing you call her "my lady" before terrified her, thinking that her harsh words broke the trust the two of you recently regain in one another.

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for, draga mea. It is I who should be apologizing to you. I am so sorry." Alcina kisses behind your ear and nuzzles into your hair again. "Will you ever be able to forgive me?" She asks quietly.

There's a hint of fear in her voice, fear that she's pushed you too far and that you won't be able to forgive her again.

Turning in her embrace, you look into her golden eyes. It surprised you to see that they were tinted red from her crying and to see the dried tears and mascara tracks down her cheeks. You wipe away the smeared makeup and place your hand on her cheek. Alcina covers your small hand with her much larger one and closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of your skin. When her eyes open again there's a hint of apprehension.

"I can't stay mad at you, even if I wanted to." You say, echoing her words from last night.

A beautiful smile crosses her face as her eyes fill with tears once more. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you into her before pressing her lips into yours and you happily kiss her back.

The two of you laid together for the rest of the day, cuddling and talking. Alcina kept her promise and talked about how even the smallest things could lead to potential disaster. She used Dorin's family as an example frequently, explaining how much of a threat they could truly possess to the castle. It surprised you just how important even the smallest details could be, especially after Alcina told you about the hunters that successfully breached the castle walls not long after she was infected with the cadou and what she had learned from each experience. The whole conversation was truly eye-opening and you understood why she was so scared when she found out about his family. By the time the conversation wrapped up you realized how truly dangerous they could be, although you still held so much guilt knowing nothing was going to stop Alcina and the girls from "taking care" of the problem.

The best thing to come out of that conversation, however, was the fact that you felt more like her equal, like the two of you were in it together rather than her ruling over you as if you were any other maid. When you expressed that thought to her, Alcina smiled and kissed you deeply, holding you close to her.

"I promise draga, one day you will be my equal. I look forward to the day you and I can rule over the castle together. It's going to take time, but I have no doubts in my mind that you are going to be more than capable of it and I know you are going to do a wonderful job."

She kissed you deeply once more, grazing her tongue across your bottom lip. You couldn't help but smile as her large tongue slipped between your lips as she poured all of the words she didn't know how to say into the kiss.

When you parted she rested her chin on your head and ran her long fingers through your hair.

"When are you going into the village?" You ask.

"Tomorrow night, most likely."

"What if there are children in the house? You won't, would you?" You ask, afraid of the answer she's going to give.

"If there are young children in the house, no. I won't bring harm to children if it can be avoided. Children are rarely a liability because they are so small and useless."

You let out a breath of relief. It would take a lot now to look at Alcina as a monster, but you would find it almost impossible to deal with knowing she would hurt an innocent child like that.

"What's going to happen to the rest of them?"

"Well it depends, if they put up a fight, which I expect them to, we will do what we have to to handle it. However, I try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum if possible so we can get a better harvest once we bring them back to the castle."

"Will you bring them back alive?"

"Perhaps, it depends on how it all happens."

"I know I'm in no position to ask for favors, but can you just try not to make them suffer?"

Alcina gives a lighthearted chuckle, shaking her head at how big and tender your heart still is.

"I promise I will do what I can to not make them suffer, draga mea. Alright?"

"Thank you." You say, cuddling into her.

"Of course, iubirea mea."

The two of you lay together, Alcina tracing the features of your face with a gentle touch, combing her fingers through your hair as the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. Just enjoying being together.

The dinner bell rings and Alcina lifts her head and looks towards the door and back to you. You look up at her golden eyes as they crinkle at the corners when she smiles down at you. Leaning down, Alcina places a kiss to your lips before you both start to get up. Alcina puts her heels back on and the two of you make your way downstairs.

The girls swarm into their seats as you walk into the dining room and you're more than a little relieved that they changed clothes and washed their faces before dinner.

"Good evening daughters. Did you enjoy the rest of your day?" Alcina asks as she takes her seat.

All three girls reply with a "yes" and start talking over each other, saying how much they enjoyed themselves. Your stomach churns when they start to talk about what they did to Dorin but Alcina cleared her throat and eyed the girls.

"Girls, I appreciate your excitement, and I am very glad that you all enjoyed yourselves, but can we please forego details?"

"Yes mother." They say in unison accompanied by apologies aimed at you.

"You know, the man-thing did say something interesting while we were tor- playing with him." Daniela says.

"And what was that draga?" Alcina says.

"He said something about how he's not going to see his youngest sister grow up and how her birthday was soon. But it got me thinking," she says, looking at you now. "when is your birthday?"

"Mine?" You ask.

"Yeah!" Daniela says.

"Uh, it's next month."

"REALLY?!" Daniela yells.

"Yeah, why? When are your birthdays?"

"We don't celebrate our birthdays." Bela says.

"Really?"

"Yeah, well none of us except for mother remember our lives before the cadou so we don't know when our birthdays are." Cassandra says.

"We have 'rebirthdays', the day that we were reborn, but we don't celebrate them." Bela says.

"Why not?"

"When you're immortal and don't age, birthdays kinda lose their excitement." Cassandra replies.

"That's fair I guess."

"But you're not immortal!" Daniela says.

"That is correct, I am not."

"So it would be so much fun to celebrate your birthday!!" Daniela says, looking over at her mother, buzzing with excitement. "Mother can we throw y/n a birthday party?! Pleaseeeee?!"

"Oh! Yes! We haven't had a proper party here in decades!" Bela says.

"That would be so much fun! Please mother?" Cassandra asks.

"I don't know girls, it's been a very long time since we've had a celebration." The girls respond with a disappointed whine and Alcina looks over at you. "It also depends on whether or not she wants us to throw her a birthday party."

"Can we?! Pleaseeeee?!" Daniela asks, giving you puppy dog eyes.

"I don't know guys," the girls groan. "I don't think I've had a birthday party since my parents were alive."

"Why not?" Bela asks.

"Because my aunt and uncle never threw me one, after a while my birthday became just another day I guess."

"That's bullshit." Cassandra grumbles and Alcina is quick to reprimand her. "Sorry, but it's true!"

"Pleaseeeee let us throw you a birthday party?! We promise it'll be the best most fun birthday party you'll ever have!" Daniela exclaims.

"I mean," you look over at Alcina who smiles back at you.

"If you are alright with the girls and I throwing you a party draga mea, I will allow it."

Looking back at the girls they look at you with excitement in their eyes. It melts your heart seeing them like this, you don't think you've ever seen them this excited before. They said they haven't thrown a party in decades and they seem so excited to have a reason to have one. Who are you to disappoint them?

"Sure, if you want to throw me a party you can. But you don't have to!"

"YEAH!!!" The girls cheer.

"Oh! Should we pick a theme?!" Daniela says.

"Themes are for children's parties!" Cassandra says.

"They are not!" Daniela argues.

"We can finally use the ballroom again!" Bela says.

"Fine if we can't do a theme can we at least do a color theme?!" Daniela asks.

"As long as it's not a stupid color like pink." Cassandra says.

"Why not?! Pink is SO pretty!"

"Pink is a terrible color theme for a party!"

"It is not!"

"Is too!"

"Oh! We also need a guest list!" Bela says. "Y/n, can you give us a list of your friends you want invited?"

"Oh, you're inviting people from the village?"

"Of course we are! It's a party!"

"Alright, alright. I didn't have a lot of friends so it'll be a small list anyway."

"The color should be black!" Cassandra says.

"Black is so dark and boring!" Daniela argues.

"Not if it's a black tie party, idiot!"

"I'm not an idiot!"

"Then stop acting like one!"

Before the argument between the girls can escalate any further, Alcina puts an end to it, telling the girls that they can all come up with ideas together, but since it is her castle, she will get the final say on everything.

"Oh here we go." Cassandra says.

"What?" You ask.

"Mother is going to take the whole thing over."

"I will not, I just want to make sure this party will reflect well on House Dimitrescu. It will be the first time in over fifty years that we will be having such an event and I will not allow it to reflect poorly on us." Alcina says.

"So she's going to take the whole thing over." Cassandra grumbles.

Alcina shoots her a look while she drinks her wine and the conversation surrounding the party continues as the girls throw out theme ideas, who will attend, what foods will be served and so-on.

Even though you haven't been a big fan of your birthday since your parents death, you have a feeling that this party is going to change that, at least for this year. Part of you hopes the girls will get it out of their system so you're not the center of attention every year for the rest of your life, especially in front of such a big crowd since the girls seem hellbent on inviting nearly everyone from the village.

As the whirlwind of the day winds down, you look forward to curling up with Alcina in bed and falling fast asleep. Much to your pleasant surprise when you walk into her chambers, Alcina is already in bed with a book in her hand. Quickly you get yourself ready for bed and climb in next to her. She puts her book down, turns off the light and pulls you into her.

"Goodnight draga mea. Te iubesc atat de mult." (I love you so much).

The purr from her chest quickly lulls you to sleep and you can barely mumble out "I love you too." before you're fast asleep in her arms.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #wlw fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #re8 alcina #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 village #re8 fanfiction

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mostlysignssomeportents · 11 months ago

Text

Kickstarting “The Bezzle” audiobook, sequel to Red Team Blues

I'm heading to Berlin! On January 29, I'll be delivering Transmediale's Marshall McLuhan Lecture, and on January 30, I'll be at Otherland Books (tickets are limited! They'll have exclusive early access to the English edition of The Bezzle and the German edition of Red Team Blues!).

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to last year's Red Team Blues, featuring Marty Hench, a hard-charging, two-fisted forensic accountant who spent 40 years in Silicon Valley, busting every finance scam hatched by tech bros' feverish imaginations:

http://thebezzle.org

Marty Hench is a great character to write. His career in high-tech scambusting starts in the early 1980s with the first PCs and stretches all the way to the cryptocurrency era, the most target-rich environment for scamhunting tech has ever seen. Hench is the Zelig of tech scams, and I'm having so much fun using him to probe the seamy underbelly of the tech economy.

Enter The Bezzle, which will be published by Tor Books and Head of Zeus on Feb 20: this adventure finds Marty in the company of Scott Warms, one of the many bright technologists whose great startup was bought and destroyed by Yahoo! (yes, they really used that asinine exclamation mark). Scott is shackled to the Punctuation Factory by golden handcuffs, and he's determined to get fired without cause, so he can collect his shares and move onto the next thing.

That's how Scott and Marty find themselves on Catalina island, the redoubt of the Wrigley family, where bison roam the hills, yachts bob in the habor and fast food is banned. Scott invites Marty on a series of luxury vacations on Catalina, which end abruptly when they discover – and implode – a hamburger-related Ponzi scheme run by a real-estate millionaire who is destroying the personal finances of the Island's working-class townies out of sheer sadism.

Scott's victory is bittersweet: sure, he blew up the Ponzi scheme, but he's also made powerful enemies – the kinds of enemies who can pull strings with the notoriously corrupt LA County Sheriff's Deputies who are the only law on Catalina, and after taking a pair of felony plea deals, Scott gets the message and never visits Catalina Island again.

That could have been the end of it, but California's three-strikes law – since rescinded – means that when Scott picks up one more felony conviction for some drugs discovered during a traffic stop, he's facing life in prison.

That's where The Bezzle really gets into gear.

At its core, The Bezzle is a novel about the "shitty technology adoption curve": the idea that our worst technological schemes are sanded smooth on the bodies of prisoners, mental patients, kids and refugees before they work their way up the privilege gradient and are inflicted on all of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

America's prisons are vicious, brutal places, and technology has only made them worse. When Scott's prison swaps out in-person visits, the prison library, and phone calls for a "free" tablet that offers all these services as janky apps that cost ten times more than they would on the outside, the cruelty finds a business model.

Working inside and outside the prison Marty Hench and Scott Warms figure out the full nature of the scam that the captive audience of prisoners are involuntary beta-testers for, and they discover a sprawling web of real-estate fraud, tech scams, and offshore finance that is extracting fortunes from the hides of America's prisoners and their families. The criminals who run that kind of enterprise aren't shy about fighting for what they've got, and they're more than happy to cut some of LA County's notorious deputy gangs in for a cut in exchange for providing some kinetic support for the project.

The Bezzle is exactly the kind of book I was hoping I'd get to write when I kicked off the Hench series – one that decodes the scam economy, from music royalties to prison videoconferencing, real estate investment trusts to Big Four accounting firm bogus audits. It's both a fast-moving, two-fisted crime novel and a masterclass on how the rich and powerful get away with both literal and figurative murder.

It's getting a big push from both my publishers and I'll be touring western Canada and the US with it. The early reviews are spectacular. But despite all of this, I had to make my own audiobook for it, which I'm pre-selling on Kickstarter:

http://thebezzle.org

Why? Because Audible – Amazon's monopoly gatekeeper to the audiobook world, with more than 90% of the market – refuses to carry my work.

Audible uses Digital Rights Management to lock every audiobook they sell to their platform. Legally, only an Audible-authorized app can decrypt and play the audiobooks they sell you. Distributing a tool that removes Audible DRM is a felony under Section 1201 of the 1998 DMCA.

That means that if you break up with Audible – delete your Audible apps – you will lose your entire audiobook library. And the fact that you're Audible's hostage makes the writers you love into their hostages, too. Writers understand that if they leave the Audible platform, their audience will have to choose between following them, or losing all their audiobooks.

That's how Audible gets away with abusing its performers and writers, up to and including the $100m Audiblegate wage-theft scandal:

https://www.audiblegate.com/

Audible can steal $100m from its writers…and the writers still continue to sell on the platform, because leaving will cost them their audience.

This is canonical enshittification: lock in users, then screw suppliers. Lots of companies abuse DRM to do this, but none can hold a candle to Amazon, who understand that the DMCA is a copyright law that protects corporations at the expense of creators.

Under DMCA 1201 commercial distribution of a "circumvention device" carries a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that if I write a book, pay to have it recorded, and then sell it to you through Audible, I am criminally prohibited from giving you the tool to take it from Audible to another platform. Even though I hold the copyright to that work, I would face a harsher sentence than you would if you simply pirated the audiobook from some darknet site. Not only that: if you shoplifted the audiobook in CD form, you'd get a lighter sentence than I, the copyright holder, would receive for giving you a tool to unlock it from Amazon's platform! Hell, if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CD, you'd get off lighter than I would. This is a scam straight out of a Marty Hench novel.

This is batshit. I won't allow it. My books are licensed on the condition that they must not be sold with DRM. Which means that Audible won't sell my books, which means that my publishers are thoroughly disinterested in paying thousands of dollars to produce audiobooks of my titles. A book that isn't sold in the one store than accounts for 90% of all sales is unlikely to do well.

That's where you come in. Since 2020, I've used Kickstarter to pre-sell five of my audiobooks (I wrote nine books during lockdown!). All told, I've raised over $750,000 (gross! but still!) on these crowdfunders. More than 20,000 backers have pitched in! The last two of these books – The Internet Con and The Lost Cause – were national bestsellers.

This isn't just a way for me to pay off a lot of bills and put away something for retirement – it's proof that readers care about supporting writers and don't want to be locked in by a giant monopolist that depends on its drivers pissing in bottles to make quota.

It's a powerful message about the desire for something better than Amazon. It's part of the current that is driving the FTC to haul Amazon into court for being a monopolist, and also part of the inspiration for other authors to try treating Amazon as damage and routing around it, with spectacular results:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dragonsteel/surprise-four-secret-novels-by-brandon-sanderson

And I'm doing it again. Last December, I went into Skyboat Media's studios where Gabrielle De Cuir directed @wilwheaton, who reprised his role as Marty Hench for the audiobook of The Bezzle. It came out amazing:

https://archive.org/details/bezzle-sample

Now I'm pre-selling this audiobook, as well as the ebook and hardcover for The Bezzle. I'm also offering bundles with the ebook and audiobook for Red Team Blues (naturally these are all DRM-free). You can get your books signed and personalized and shipped anywhere in the world, courtesy of Book Soup, and I've partnered with Libro.fm to deliver DRM-free audiobooks with an app for people who don't want to mess around with sideloading.

I've also got some spendy options for high rollers. There's three chances to name a character in the next Hench novel (Picks and Shovels, Feb 2025). There's also five chances to commission a Hench short story about your favorite tech scam, and get credited when the story is published.

The Kickstarter runs for the next three weeks, which should give me time to get the hardcopy books signed and shipped to arrive around the on-sale date. What's more, I've finally worked out all the post-Brexit kinks with shipping my UK publisher's books to EU backers. I'm working with Otherland Books to fulfill those EU orders, and it looks like I'm going to be able to sign a giant stack of those when I'm in Berlin later this month to give the annual Marshall McLuhan lecture at the Canadian embassy:

https://transmediale.de/en/2024/event/mcluhan-2024

Red Team Blues and its sequels are some of the most fun – and informative – work I've done in my quarter-century career. I love how they blend technical explanations of the scam economy with high-intensity technothrillers. That's the the same mix as my bestselling YA series Little Brother series – but these are firmly adult novels.

The Bezzle came out great. I hope you'll give it a try – and that you'll come out to see me in late February when I hit the road with the book! Here's that Kickstarter link again:

http://thebezzle.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/10/the-bezzle/#marty-hench

#pluralistic #kickstarter #audible #the bezzle #bezzles #prison tech #disciplinary technology #crowdfunding #wilw #wil wheaton #audiobooks #publishing #science fiction #marty hench #martin hench #red team blues #shitty technology adoption curve #reits

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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Greatest Fan of your Life

➪the one where you get your wisdom teeth removed and bradley takes care of you.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of a bad past dental experience, mentions of teeth being removed...because, you know, mentions of blood, anesthesia, use of an iv, mentions of not eating properly, reader is going through it, bradley being the best boyfriend ever, literally wrote this because i just had three of my wisdom teeth removed and needed some comfort

Word Count: 5.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You were nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced up at the sign of the best dental office in San Diego. As you read over the sign a couple of times, Bradley reached over from his place behind the wheel and grabbed your hand. “How are you feeling?”

Tearing your eyes off the logo that resembled a tooth, you give him a weary smile. “I’m nervous,” you state the obvious in a quiet voice.

Bradley raised your hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it before rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. “You’re going to be fine, pretty girl,” he said in hopes to provide you with some much needed comfort. “I’m going to be waiting right here when it’s over, and then we’ll go home and I’ll cater to your every need.”

You give him another smile and lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I like the sound of that,” you murmur and he smiles back before placing another quick kiss to your mouth.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” He asks when he saw you reach for the handle.

“Please,”

And with that one word Bradley was hopping out of the Bronco and grabbing your hand as you both walked up to the door. He could feel just how tense you were and he wished there was something he could do to ease your nerves, even a little bit. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to help you, as having anything done to your mouth, from a filling to a simple clean, made you beyond nervous.

You had never liked the dentist, ever since you were a kid and they had to hold you down while extracting a tooth that was no good. They hadn’t given you enough freezing for it to numb properly, so you felt pretty much everything. Safe to say you never went back to that dentist office.

Maybe that was why you had waited so long to make an appointment to have your wisdom teeth removed. You were told back when you were twenty one that you should get them extracted as soon as possible, but that was ten years ago, and you still hadn’t booked the appointment.

You were fine, for the most part, up until a few weeks ago. You were barely able to chew tough foods because your gums ached beyond words, and you had resorted to drinking shakes to get you through the day. That was fine, until Bradley noticed you had lost a concerning amount of weight due to the lack of actual food you were getting into your body.

He went ahead and booked the appointment for you pretty much instantly after that. He had to sweet talk the lady on the other line, who was insisting that it should be you who was making the appointment, but she eventually gave in when he told her about your fear of the dentist.

Bradley still wasn’t sure how he had gotten away with that, but he was grateful nonetheless, even if you didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day after he informed you of your upcoming extractions.

While you were upset and scared, you were also glad you would be able to go back to eating solid foods in about a week after today.

That positive still didn’t help tune out all the negatives you were feeling.

As you walked up to the front desk of the office, you didn’t loosen your hold on Bradley’s hand once, not even when the lady behind the desk handed you a clipboard with papers you needed to sign since this was your first time in this office.

You both sat in the waiting room, and you were shaking so badly you were afraid your writing was so messy that you’d have to ask for a new page. With a nervous glance up at your boyfriend, he just pressed a kiss to the side of your head and took the clipboard from you, filling out your information for you. Most he knew off by heart, thankfully, and he handed it back to you so you could scribble down your signature at the bottom of the page.

It was only a few minutes after he handed the board back to the lady when your name was called. Bradley could tell that you were beginning to freak out once again, so he took your hand and walked with you over to where the procedure will be done.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you, his hands tilting your head up so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “It’ll take an hour at the most, and then we’ll be back home.”

You just nodded and allowed him to kiss your forehead. “I love you,”

“I love you, too,” and he watched as you were guided into the room by the assistant.

You hesitantly sat down on the chair and kept your eyes on the blank wall in front of you. Off to your left were various paintings, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at them, despite them probably being there to calm down the patients. You were so nervous, you couldn’t even voice your opinions on the decor of the waiting room. This was by far the most elegant dentist office you had ever seen in your life.

The assistant took a seat next to you and began wiping down your forearm, and you began mentally preparing yourself for the eventual puncture of the IV. “How are we doing?” She asked softly. “Are you nervous?”

You give her a tight smile as she tosses the wipe into the trash can. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only a little bit,” she teased as the Doctor came in. “Your boyfriend mentioned that you have had some pretty tough times in the past regarding previous procedures. I want you to know that you have nothing to be afraid of. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You nod at her as the Doctor gently picked up the IV. “Hi, Y/n,” he smiled at you. “I’m Doctor Brown.”

“Hi,” you nearly whisper back.

He asked you the standard questions, like; are you taking any medication currently, are you a smoker, is there a chance you’re pregnant, when was the last time you had something to eat or drink. All that fun stuff you were barely able to answer.

“I’m going to insert the IV now, okay?” He asked and waited until you gave him verbal consent before gently piercing your skin with the needle. He looked at the fluid bag before sitting down on the other side of you and grabbing gloves. “I hear this is your first time with us, is that correct?”

You nod as he adjusts the chair so you are laying back. “It is,”

“And you have a reliable ride home?”

You nod again. “Yeah, my boyfriend,” you answer, wondering when exactly you were supposed to start feeling sleepy.

The assistant, whose name tag read Alia Clark, grabbed her own gloves as she asked, “What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s in the navy,” you mumble with a small smile. “He’s an aviator.”

“Oh, wow,” she replied and smiled down at you before checking over your chart. “And what is his name?”

For some reason, that took you a bit longer to answer as you felt your eyes begin to feel heavy. “Bradley,” you were finally able to say. “His name is Bradley, but he also goes by his call sign, Rooster.”

“Rooster, huh?” Doctor Brown hums and you were only able to nod as you felt your eyes close.

“Don’t worry, Y/n,” you hear Alia say. “You will be back with Bradley, or Rooster, in no time.”

And that was all the assurance you needed before you let yourself fall asleep.

Bradley wishes he was able to stay in the room with you, but he knew he couldn’t, so he finally made his way back out to the Bronco once he saw the Doctor enter your room.

Once he was back behind the wheel, he sighed as he had an hour of time to kill.

He had taken the week off work, after informing Mav of your fear of the dentist. The older man seemed to have taken pity on you as he had no problem letting Bradley skip this week to look after you.

As he began to wait, he pulled out his phone and typed a quick message to you, knowing you wouldn’t see it or read it until you were back home. You told him beforehand to take your phone away from you until the effects of the IV wore off completely, nervous that you would embarrass yourself if you were to go on it in your drug induced haze.

After typing out a sappy little message, Bradley ended it with a simple red heart before sending it, hearing the buzz of your phone from where it was on the center console.

He debated on whether or not he wanted to stay in the parking lot the whole time, or run out to the store to get some things that would help make the next few days easier for you.

He reluctantly chose the second option, as he knew you wouldn’t want him to leave your side once you were back home.

Bradley drove to the nearest store and bought a few packs of pudding, apple sauce, ginger ale, yogurt and even some more of those shakes you had been living off of, something he was still mad about as he hated the way you turned to practically starving yourself to avoid this appointment, before stopping by the pharmacy to pick up more painkillers.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the smallest bit excited to be the one taking care of you. Usually it was the other way around, with you being the one to look after him every time he returned home from his deployments. Whether that be with making him his favorite foods, giving him some much needed massages or simply just laying with him in bed for a few hours, it all made the welcome home much nicer than it would have been if he was still living alone and single.

This time he got to be the one to look after you, and he couldn’t wait to cater to your every need. He couldn’t wait to spend the whole week with you, even though you would most likely be miserable and uncomfortable due to the pain in your mouth. Still, he would do his best to make things better for you.

Your surgery should be over soon, so with twenty minutes left on the timer he set for himself on his phone, he drove back to the dental office and was back to waiting for you.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go in and wait for you inside, or if they’ll call him to come walk you out, but he decided to go in a bit early, anyway, and wait for you in the waiting room.

Bradley remembered when he got his wisdom teeth removed, back when he was still a teen. He remembered just how uncomfortable he was during the recovery days, and how he didn’t really have anyone to look after him. He got his aunt to drive him there and home, and she stayed with him for a few hours after the surgery, but eventually had to return to her own home.

He had to stick to sucking on popsicles and protein shakes until he was feeling well enough to go back to eating normal food.

He was completely on his own back then, and he’d make sure that wasn’t the case with you.

A few minutes go by, and when he heard the assistant call his name, he paused the latest newscast that he was watching on his phone and pocketed it before standing up. “How is she?” He asked as Alia getsured for the lady behind the desk to ring up the receipt. “How’d it go?”

Alia smiled at his multiple questions as she watched him insert his credit card into the machine. “It went well,” she answered and gave him another smile when he slipped the card back into his wallet and took the receipt from the receptionist. “She’s just resting now, but is able to go home since most of the anesthesia has worn off.”

He nodded and followed her back to where you were. She stepped aside as he entered the room and found you still laying on the chair, your eyes barely open as you stared blankly at the TV that was hung from the ceiling. “Hi, pretty girl,”

At the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you look over and tear up. “I don’t look pretty right now,” you mumble and try to avoid moving the cotton pads that were stuck to either side of your mouth.

Bradley hushed you and quickly walked around the chair so he could press his lips to your forehead. Your mouth and cheeks were swollen, and he could see a bit of blood on your bottom lip, but other than that, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. “You do,” he said and grabbed your hand when you reached it out to him, careful to not touch the bandage from where the IV was inserted. “Mouth full of gauze and all.”

“You’re Rooster, I’m assuming?” Doctor Brown asked as he held a few pages of paper in his hand.

“She told you my call sign, huh?” Bradley shook his head while you avoided eye contact with him and instead decided to stare at the wall.

“She was the perfect patient,”

Bradley looked over at you and gently rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “I believe it,”

Doctor Brown went over what exactly he and Alia did to you, before handing him a small bag that held antibiotics inside. The whole time you remained silent as you tried not to cry in front of the Doctor and assistant, squeezing Bradley’s hand whenever you felt the pain beginning to form.

“She should be okay now,” the Doctor finished with a smile at the two of you. “There should be no more pain from having them in. If there is still a bit of discomfort after about two weeks, come back in and we’ll check up on the healing process.”

“Sounds good,” Bradley answered and gently pulled you up from the chair. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you mutter as he guides you back towards the exit, with him carrying most of your body weight. He led you back out to the Bronco and helped put your seatbelt on before he was getting in on the drivers side.

“I know this will be hard for you to do,” he began, checking you over once more before putting the car in reverse and beginning to back out of the parking space. He puts his right hand on the back of your headrest and gives you a teasing smile before continuing, “But I looked it up and Google says you shouldn’t talk too much. It might interrupt the healing process.”

Despite him really wanting to hear all the odd things you’d say in your daze, he didn’t want you paying the price later by having a sore throat.

You send him a dirty look and raise your brow, as if to say, really?

He just winks at you after taking off his aviators and reaching over to gently place them over your eyes, sacrificing his own in hopes you would appreciate the gesture since you had forgotten your own during your rush to leave this morning. It was nearing the afternoon, so the sun was shining down on the both of you, but he would deal with it to make you more comfortable.

He was right about you appreciating it, as you give him a closed mouth smile, your cheeks puffed out due to the gauze. “Tell you what,” he says as he pulls out onto the main road, his right hand instinctively reaching over to trace random shapes onto the skin of your thigh. He keeps his left one on the wheel as he glances over at you, seeing your eyes already on him from behind the glasses. “Once we get home and you rest for a few hours, maybe we can go out and get milkshakes if you’re feeling up to it. Might help with the soreness.”

You instantly perk up at that and nod, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your mouth. Bradley held back a laugh at your attempt to kiss the back of his hand, your lips clearly still numb as you couldn’t seem to get them to move properly.

He just gave you a grin when you looked over at him in defeat.

The swelling had gotten worse as the time went on, and your throat was dry beyond words. Bradley had guided you towards the couch as soon as you got home, flipping the TV onto one of your favorite shows and making sure you were comfortable before he was leaving to tidy up the small mess you had made in the bedroom a few hours earlier, when you couldn’t decide what to wear and had thrown multiple articles of clothing onto the floor.

Within minutes he was back at your side, your head resting on his lap as you stared at the screen of the TV. Bradley ran his fingers through your hair as you both watched the show, listening to your uneven breaths as you fought back grunts of pain.

He looked down and gently held your chin in between his fingers, squinting down at you as you opened your mouth. “I think it might be time to change the gauze, baby,” he murmurs and you wince in at the thought of seeing the bloody cotton leave your mouth.

Bradley gently sits you up before reaching over and grabbing the bag from the dentist and pulling out a fresh set of gauze.

After damping them with water, he sets them aside before mumbling a quiet, “Come here,” and he watches as you lean towards him and slowly open your mouth. Bradley caresses your jaw with one hand and uses the other to slowly pull out the bloodied gauze. He does it one by one, murmuring a soft, “I’m sorry,” when he sees the tears form in your eyes. He places both pieces of gauze on the palm of his hand before handing you the clean ones.

He sits with you until you’ve successfully placed the new cotton into your mouth, and then stands up to throw away the blood filled ones.

Once Bradley returns back to the living room, you move over and give him space to sit down before laying your head in his lap again and trying to focus on the show instead of the throbbing in your mouth.

With your head still feeling fuzzy and the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingers running through your hair again, you give yourself a bit of relief and fall asleep.

When you woke up alone a few hours later, you noticed that Bradley had left the TV on and had also put your phone on the coffee table beside you. You could hear him doing something in the kitchen as you reached for it, and knowing him, he was probably making something to eat as his stomach was like a bottomless pit.

You sat up with a groan, still a bit groggy from the anesthesia, and unlocked your phone. Instantly, you were met with a couple of texts from your friends and family, and you smiled as you read them.

Mom: I heard from Bradley that it went well and you’re resting now. Call me when you’re feeling up to it. Love you x

Nat: I told you that there was nothing to be scared of. Have fun being stuck with Rooster for a week ;) Text me when you can!

But the one that had you smiling a little bit more was the one from Bradley.

Bradley ♡: I love you, pretty girl. I promise I will be there with you as soon as it’s done. I’m all yours for the next week, and after that.

You send him a heart emoji back, then realize that the gauzes are all soggy in your mouth, and you once again had to hold back a gag as you leaned over to put your phone back down.

When you bite too hard down on your cheek through the cotton, you wince and accidentally drop your phone onto the floor. It landed on the rug with a thud, and you heard the sounds coming from the kitchen stop.

Seconds later Bradley was standing in the doorway to the living room, a cloth in his hands and he was still chewing something as he asked, “Are you okay?”

You give him a thumbs up before pointing down at your phone.

He looks at it and shakes his head as he tosses the cloth back into the kitchen to find later, before crossing the room and picking up the device. “I knew giving you back your phone would be a bad idea,” he teased as he sat down next to you and gently ran his fingers along your still swollen jaw. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and blinked away the remaining sleep from your eyes. “Dry,” you said and wince at how raspy your voice sounded.

Bradley nodded, murmuring a quiet, “Okay,” as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Do you feel like trying to drink something?”

You look up at him with a small smile. “Milkshake?”

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “We can go get milkshakes,” he says as he gently tugs on your lower lip with his thumb. “But first we need to change those again.”

You groan as he helps remove the stained gauze from your mouth again and wonder how he wasn’t grossed out by holding them in his hand. You supposed he’s seen and done worse, and he’s not exactly new to having your saliva on him.

He uses his free hand to grasp your chin between his fingers and tilts your head so the lamp next to the couch was able to shine somewhat into your mouth. “It doesn’t seem to be bleeding much right now,” he hums and stands up to toss the gauze away. “Do you want to see how it goes without them for a bit? Just until you get something into you. If it starts to bleed again after the shakes, I’ll help you put new ones in.”

You agree instantly, happy to be rid of the uncomfortable cotton for at least a little while. After he throws the used gauze out, he returns back to the living room with his keys and phone in one of his hands, the other free for you to hold as he held it out to you.

He pulls you off the couch and guides you back out to the Bronco, making sure to grab the bag that holds the gauze and meds that you would need to take afterwards. He knew it would be an early night as the medicine would most likely make you sleepy again, and that was why he waited until it was nearing eight before taking you out for milkshakes, so you could go back home and go to bed at a reasonable time.

Bradley couldn’t do much for your discomfort, but he could sure as hell keep your sleep schedule on track.

You leaned your head against the window as he drove into town, your eyes hazy as you listened to his quiet humming of the song that played on the radio. “I like your singing,” you murmur as you look at all the lit up shops that passed by. “You should do it more often.”

Bradley laughed from beside you as he pulled into the drive thru. “I sing all the time for you, baby,”

“I know,” you say and lift your head, looking over at him while he eyed all the flavors to choose from. “But I can never get enough of you, you know that.”

He lifted his hand and ran his knuckles along the bone of your cheek, admiring the way your pretty face looked in the dim lighting of the Bronco. “The feeling is mutual,” he grinned at you when you turned your head to place a kiss to the back of his hand. “What kind are you wanting to get?”

You hum as you lean over the center console, reading over the various flavors. “Strawberry,” you decide and run your nose along the sharp angle of his jaw. “Please.”

After ordering two shakes, and asking for a spoon, Bradley pulled into one of the many available parking spaces. He pulled off the lid of your shake and stuck the plastic spoon in it before handing it over to you.

He watched you carefully as he sipped on his own shake, holding back a laugh at how puffy your face is. Of course, you saw him shift out of the corner of your eye and turn to him with a raised brow. “Sorry,” he grinned and set his shake down in the cup holder. “You look like a chipmunk.”

You just shake your head at him and slurp on the spoon, waiting until the cold substance dripped down your throat before saying, “You’re laughing at me,” you state and hear him snort and cover his mouth. “I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me.”

That just made him laugh harder, and you found yourself smiling at the sound. “I’m sorry,” he says and reaches over to gently caress your swollen cheek. “You still look as hot as ever.”

You roll your eyes and bring another spoonful of the milkshake to your lips. “Liar,”

“I mean it,” he promised, running his fingers over your jaw in a feather light touch before pulling away. “You’re the sexiest chipmunk I’ve ever seen, baby.”

When you laugh loudly, you wince immediately after, and Bradley quickly decides that you’d most definitely be a lot more comfortable at home.

“Alright, I think we should get going. Are you okay to…eat that while I drive?” He asked as he sipped on his chocolate shake. You wave him off and take a much smaller amount on the spoon, knowing that Bradley would go off on you for spilling anything in his precious Bronco, but you also knew he’d wait until after you were feeling better. The thought had a warm feeling spreading all over your body, as did his next words, “Okay, we’ll head home. You should take one of the antibiotics, first.”

You agree, and he holds your shake as you take the pill into your mouth. After rummaging around in the back with his free hand, Bradley hands you a warm water bottle, and he puts a reminder in his head to put the bottle in the fridge once he got home.

“Okay?” He asked when you took back your milkshake.

You nodded and have him a half smile, “It’s probably going to make me tired,”

“I know, that’s a good thing. You should be pretty tired by the time we get back home, and then you can go to bed and sleep off a bit of the pain,” he pointed out as he put the Bronco in reverse. Before he actually started moving, he gave you a serious look. “Do not spill that shake, pretty girl.”

You laugh quietly and give him a side glance as you sipped a bit of the milkshake from the cup.

“I mean it, baby,” he was only half serious in his warning as he started the short ride back home, one hand on the wheel while his other one held his plastic cup. “That cute face will only get you so far.”

You just shake your head and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek that you couldn’t feel yourself do. Your lips were still numb, so you were really trying to be as careful as possible with not spilling your milkshake.

Luckily, you arrived back home without letting a drop hit a single spot in the interior of his Bronco, and Bradley gave you a chocolate tasting kiss as a reward as he led you back up to the house.

Once you were in your room, he helped dress you in one of his shirts and sweats. After concluding that the bleeding had stopped, he decided there was no need to shove move gauze into your mouth, as that would most likely make it start to bleed again.

He pulled back the covers and sat down next to you, smiling down at your emotionless face and tired eyes. “You doing okay?” He asked as he brushed away some of your hair.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, taking his hand in yours and trying to kiss it. He just grinned at your attempt. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Bradley leaned down and kissed your forehead gently. “I always will, you know that,” you nodded as he pulled away and stood up. “Do you want an ice pack for the night? Might help with the swelling.”

After thinking about it, you nod and wait for him to return back into the room with the ice pack. He wrapped it in a dish towel and gently placed it against your jaw before stripping down into just his boxer briefs.

He settles down in bed behind you, hesitant to touch you at the moment in case you needed space. When you just laughed quietly and grabbed his hand so you could wrap his arm around your waist, he inched closer to you and allowed you to rest the ice pack between his shoulder and your jaw. He was glad he put the towel around it, but he also wouldn’t have minded having to feel it unwrapped against his bare shoulder. He’d suck it up for you.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” you mumbled back, snuggling closer to him as the effects of the antibiotics began taking over your body.

As Bradley held you while you slept, he felt glad that he was the one you wanted to look after you. He loved you beyond words and he felt as though this was the beginning of his attempts to even out the balance in your relationship. It was you who constantly looked after him, and though he loved it, he also felt guilty that there weren’t many occasions where he was the one who looked after you.

After spending the day taking care of your every need and being the one person you wanted to see you vulnerable, he decided that after this he would put more effort into showing you how much he appreciated and adored you.

He was ready to move onto a new chapter in his life with you by his side, if the small box tucked away in his box of collectable cards was anything to go by.

All he had to do was hope you’d say yes.

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demonbanger · 2 years ago

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𝔇𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℑ’𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 |

ft. sex demon ! 𝗘𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗗 | 🌶 🔞 MDI

“𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.” — E. Kid, to you

synopsis: on a lonely night you decide to get a bit buzzed and think, fuck it, why not try to summon a sex demon? Turns out to be either the biggest blessing, or biggest mistake you’ve made in a while.

♫: click for inspo song

pairing: Incubus! Kid x Fem! Reader (no physical description of reader, except hair that can be pulled)

cw: *inhales* demon summoning, bully Eustass, brat taming, blood + pain play, cunnilingus, drinking mention, predator x prey, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, belly bulge, overstimulation, praise + degradation, size kink af with our 6’7 king, use of pet names, insane stamina, gets softer at the end

tags: @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @nikos-a-clown @pinkcrystal-rose

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You stuff your fingers in your dribbling pussy, but just could not get yourself full enough. You felt like such a horny bastard tonight, with so much sexual desperation, and finally decided you wanted to start masturbating again. But nothing worked like when you first started; you’ve just been single for too long and miss the feeling of real cock.

Even a dildo couldn’t do the trick anymore. You needed the real thing, with pumping veins and harsh thrusts, attached to a heavy man that pressed you into the mattress, with low grunts and dirty words moaned lowly into your ear.

You sigh in frustration and set the toys down, taking a swig out of some whiskey to let it take over more of your senses. The liquor burns so beautifully going down your throat…too bad there wasn’t another hot liquid also sinking down your oral cavity.

The familiar floaty headspace seeps in like an old friend that you keep away at arm’s length, as your heartbeat drums in your warm chest. Buzzed you feels like a dragon waking from a slumber, with old runes in the form of dumb ideas filling your brain.

“Might as well fucking summon a sex demon at this point,” you mutter. The idea rolls over in your head for a few minutes, and the curiosity of trying something crazy and reckless like this gets more and more appealing to your buzzed brain, until eventually you think: Wait. Fuck it, what if I tried it at least? You laugh to yourself.

What would you have to lose anyways? Just your soul? You don’t even feel like you have one these days until you drink good old caffeine.

You tap the safari icon on your phone, to research how one would even go about summoning an incubus, and take another swig to invite the madness more.

A few forums say the same thing. People asking if you actually want to invite such a thing into your life, some dude talking about how his wife cheated on him with one of those entities and was never the same after that. Hahah…cuck.

You scoff. You have existential crises every day, no sex demon can fuck your life up like you feel you can. Demons, where you at? It’s ya boi. You think about the meme and cackle way too hard for something so unfunny and possibly life-threatening.

Then you scroll over a comment that is long with a lot of upvotes on it. It looks serious. Seems legitimate. There are no comments underneath, but it reads like a serious spell book.

Eh, why not? You laugh again. The comment warned against masturbating beforehand to make sure your sexual energy was at its peak to really invite any sexual spirits. Welp, already fucked that up, so if this doesn’t work at least you could have something fun to do and then tire yourself out and call it a night.

Then you read how it involves extracting blood from a few…sources such as the tongue and pussy and you wonder if there’s a better way. A paper cut on any of those things sounds gross. Eek.

You look over YouTube and find the first video that pops up. The speaker sounds experienced, and says that it’s much simpler than any methods. Just make a request to the demon Asmodeus by reaching a meditative state, and adamantly focusing on his name.

Simple enough. You try and make sure your room is a little tidy, burn a couple of cutesy candles, and dress in a black spiked collar and a cute, lacey red lingerie set you got yourself a little while back. Scarlet garters hold up soft thigh highs that bring out your thighs and make your lower body look extra luscious. You take in this moment of feminine confidence. What are you? You’re a bad bitch. And what are you about do? Get fucked.

You sit prettily on your bed, take another swig of the burning drink, shake your hips in excitement, close your eyes, and make the signature meditation pose. You even put the sigil of Asmodeus on your laptop to better reach him. Look at you, doing the most. Then, you bite your lip in concentration and your buzzed brain is slow enough to focus on one thing slowly.

Asmodeus. Asmodeus. Asmodeus, are you with me? You think with intention.

Just as you thought. No answer. You continue.

Asmodeus, I know I never spoke to you in my life. I’m Y/n, I know this is silly but I don’t mind giving up some of my energy to get fucked voraciously by a demon boy. An incubus please. Is that ok?

You wait for an answer, peep at the candles. They’re just flickering normally. You try not to psych yourself into micro analyzing the movement of the little flames. Drunk you could do that all night. But you need to keep focused. Then you continue.

Hopefully it is ok, Mr. Asmodeus. I don’t know if I need to give up my blood n shit. I’m just a little drunk girl and honestly I’ve given up so much life energy to toxic exes at this point, you don’t need to warn me,, I know I’m rambling, but uh, yeah. I don’t give a fuck. But also, respectfully, make sure he wants me too. That shit’s hot. Do you even hear me at this point?

A chill up your spine stops you from thinking further. It’s such a chill that you shiver. It’s the same sensation in your nerves that you’d feel if someone ran a finger along your entire sensitive spine. Your window isn’t open.

There’s no way.

Good talk, you think. Don’t know what the fuck that was.

You sigh, keeping yourself open for answers. Maybe he’s thinking? Who knows. For a second you almost feel a little silly for getting all dressed and stuff.

Then you feel a chill up your spine, only more intense. Your hairs stand on end. It’s kind of spooky. You’re drunk though so you’re in more of a relaxed, “oh no!!! anyways” sort of mindset. But none of your windows are open and you haven’t turned on the AC all day.

You take another swig out of the bottle and your face burns. You’re sure your eyes are a bit bloodshot, face flushed. You think about what a male demon would say if he saw you. Probably something like—Put the bottle down, sweetheart.

You cackle in your mind. Sorry about that, daddy, gotta have fun.

Keep calling me that, I like it, the thought says a bit louder in your mind, purring more sexily than you’ve ever imagined a man sounding. Wait, did you make that up or are you tripping?

Dumbass.

You open your eyes again. So that was your imagination…or was it? There’s a little bit of doubt in your mind. Either way your imagination is vivid and you crack yourself up.

Damn it, you play too much, now your drunk ass can’t even tell what’s someone telepathically communicating to you and what’s you imagining someone telepathically communicating to you.

You clear your throat a little.

“Oi, am I wasting my time? Am I making this up? Give me a sign or show yourself , but don’t like scare me, or else I’m just going to sleep.” You try to speak clearly and confidently.

Your head whips around to the wall at something suddenly in your peripheral, and you notice a little area starts to glow, brighter and brighter. It’s a sigil. The same one you put on your computer moments ago. It’s very slow. Your heart feels like it’s in your fucking throat as you blink extra hard. Nope, still there. Holy fuck??

You swallow, slightly nervous besides your sense of fear being dulled down.

A gasp leaves your throat at a sudden tapping noise coming straight from the sigil. A fist punches through your wall, except not actually punching through its material. The glowing sigl must be some sort of portal. You let out a shocked squeal as the fist shakes around the air of your room. The clawed hand opens and the body attached steps out.

“The fuck was that?”

Oh lord. He’s huge. And above all else, irresistibly sexy.

The demon stands before you, towering over most of your room proudly, a wild crown of red hot hair adorning his head. The candlelight flickers wildly as he looks directly at you. His handsome features complete with sharp eyes like glowing amber surrounded by darkness, almost dragon-like. Is that…lipstick? And guyliner. Another shiver runs through you at how attracted you are to this creature from hell. You must’ve made Asmodeus laugh and scored the jackpot in return. That sharp nose.. with the pretty bumps on the side…you wonder how it would feel riding it.

He’s wearing a coat trimmed with maroon fur, that still leaves little to the imagination as his entire muscular, giant torso is bare with a sheen that accentuates carved abs, perhaps sweat because hell is hot. Black pants with chains hang low on his hips. You don’t see visible wings but are sure he can make them appear if he wanted.

Just, holy shit.

Dark maroon lips smirk. His voice is raspy, a little tired, a little indifferent, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “So…you gonna just keep staring at me all night and get off that way, or?”

You bite your lip. He’s so fucking smug. Your pussy starts pooling more wetness than already built up.

“I-well, yeah, you just appeared through my fucking wall,” you roll your eyes, not submitting so easily. “The hell did you expect?”

The demon flashes a mouth full of beautiful, dangerous teeth.

“Pretty little minx, and a smart mouth on ya too. I guess he was right it’d be worth bothering the admiral of the legions, can’t wait to fuck the brattiness out of you.”

Black, ornate trousers that appear punk and shredded to bits sway as he steps closer to your bed.

“Oh, Careful—” you warn but one of his beautiful, tall, twisty horns hits your ceiling fan, and you find it comical how a 7 foot tall demon is cursing at hitting his left horn in your room.

His eyes squint at you. “Fucking brat. Laughing at me, not even telling me your name. I could drag a rude little mortal like you to hell and eat you alive for lack of manners,” he drawls, little to no venom in his words, his voice so deep and rich you almost get lost in it for a moment. Little does he know you want him to eat you alive.

“Oh—, I mean you’re right, sorry sir,” you spit out the sorry as sarcastically as possible, “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

He eyes your thighs clenching together and a mocking chuckle bubbles in his chest. “Name’s Kid. But you, little thing, can call me Eustass for tonight when I’m impaling you on my cock.”

A little whimper is forced out of you at how dirtily he spoke, like he made an incantation to turn you on instantly. “Eustass,” you try out, making precum drip out of him more than he’d like to admit. Your eyes flit down to his cock that he mentioned, then back up. He knows you were staring. And he’s so damn smug about it too, because the big guy’s bulge looks absolutely huge.

He looks over at the toys on your bed and scoffs, picking up your dildo, and eyeing it snarkily. Your face burns in indignation at his wolfish, leering smirk.

“Oh princess. Might as well throw these—“ he locates your trash bin, “right here. Because I’m gonna fucking ruin them for you. And you can kiss any man’s dick goodbye.” He drops your sex toys into the trash like a mic drop.

And you’re not even mad. Your thighs shift against the fabric of your bodysuit to gain any sort of friction, so turned on from imagining what’s to come.

“Yeah? You like that? I can just smell how much that turned you on. Such a pathetic, needy, desperate slut. You in heat or something?”

You can only nod your head.

He makes his way back to the bed, walking like he has all the time in the world, and you eye him for how beautiful and dangerous he is, oozing sex appeal. He also eyes you hungrily, like a starved carnivore eyeing its new living meal. Heat from hell radiates off of him, and he smells otherworldly; almost sweet; with notes of pure musk, steel, blood, leather, sweat, and desire.

(You don’t know that the pheromones you’re releasing have a similar effect on him, but he wants to make you beg and whimper; mewl, cry, break).

You take in shaky breaths, not because those fangs could rip chunks out of you if he wanted to…well, that’s hot too.

Kid grabs your bottle of whiskey from your mattress, eyeing you with pure hunger as he gets so close to you, and sets it on the floor. “That’s gonna break if it stays on your bed.” He dips his head closer to you, inhales again to smell your arousal, and his eyes roll shut.

“A-are we gonna have a safeword? I’m not paying any hospital bills if you break my body,” you finally speak up, voice pitch heightened from horniness.

He scoffs. “How fucking adorable, such a needy stupid baby, you didn’t even think before making a contract with someone who could do whatever he wants with you no?” the redhead strokes your thigh as he sounds so mean and condescending, large clawed hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing your supple flesh. His breathing is heavy. Fiery eyes peer down into your soul as he pauses.

“Spikes.” He feels your collar, humming in approval. “But just know, you signed up to be fucked. And drained.” His blackened thumb traces over your bottom lip as he holds your chin. “If you can’t handle the heat, you should know better than to booty call hell.”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding in his hold, tongue darting out to caress his finger. Kid snarls.

Just like that, a large palm presses on your sternum and shoves you down onto the bed. He yanks you by the hips to the edge of the mattress with a bruising grip, and bucks his clothed hips into yours sharply, trouser-covered bulge slapping your pussy roughly, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Gonna keep your neighbors up with us all night just like this,” he growls, bucking onto you, hands tracing your hips, fingers dipping under your bodysuit to caress your soaking core.

“Wet kitty, so fucking sinful.” He pulls out his fingers, separating them and admiring how your slick strings up and drips down his hand. Then, glowing eyes gaze into yours as a long, sharp, forked tongue licks your essence up, cleaning them in one stroke. You throb. He tosses his trench coat to the floor and you admire his giant, muscular body. Thick neck you want to scratch up. Giant muscles carved of porcelain and littered with scars that you want to bite and paint even prettier. A fallen angel of vermillion, ready to stab you in the dark, drag you down in lust and weeping to your personal circle of heavenly hell.

Without another word, he dips his head down and snaps the crotch of your bodysuit open leaving you with no room to think. He flattens his large, forked tongue and licks a broad, wet stripe over your sopping cunt.

“ ‘s cunny’s mine,” he breathes, and begins his attack on you with his mouth, squeezing your thighs, large tongue teasing into you.

“Yes it’s all—, ohhhh~” He pulls out and shoves two huge fingers with painted fingernails into your entrance, stretching you out and making you arch your back from the sudden stimulation, pussy smushing into his face further. He growls again, feral in nature, the vibrations going straight to your clit as he intently watches your reactions. Wide tongue lapping at your clit, swirling, making you speak in tongues and whimper at how full you are. You do not regret summoning a demon at all.

He adds a third impossibly thick finger and scissors them in and out of you, then impatiently thrusts his tongue back in to fuck you, massaging every little nook and cranny of your textured walls. Swirling up, and up, and up until your brain rots inside your skull and you’re roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair.

You hear him groan a prideful, muffled “Good girl,” as his nose bumps into your clit so snugly. Your eyes roll back at the praise. It’s too much, all of it is too much. And yet, you need more, more, more, please, please, please. His tongue hits a tender spot that makes you jolt and begins to attack it in a full-fledged assault, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and buck your hips greedily into him.

Greedy. He likes that. He likes how greedy your cunt is, because he’s just as greedy for you. Your thighs clench around his head when he shakes his face, soaked in your juices, side to side to rub your clit with his nose pressed tightly to you. “E-Eustass!” you call out for him, all strangled, and a purr rumbles in his thick chest.

In response, he only clenches your thighs tighter around his face, continuing to torture you with his pink tongue that’s long and mobile like a fucking tentacle.

You cry out as talonesque nails dig into your thighs and little pricks of blood come out, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. You grind on him, head swimming in lust, probably only worsening the pinprick wounds. He leans back with you and completely sits down on the floor beneath, holding the entire weight of your body on top of his face with the strength of a powerful war demon.

He slides you up and down, and you tremble, spots of white flecking your vision as you ride his face, smearing your never ending slick to his insatiable delight.

His amber eyes glare at you, urging you to let go and come undone on top of him. Yet mocking you for needing to cum so soon.

And that’s what you do, shaking violently, curling over him, death grip on his scarlet tresses, as he groans at how delicious you taste. The orgasm washes over you so hard you almost fall slack, almost, as your moans fall silent from your circuits sparking. He drinks up all the essence you have to offer, lips smacking at how delicious you are, deep “Mmmhfuck” causing your nipples to perk.

He stands back up and sets you back down on the bed, unzipping his pants.

You’re lightheaded from the most amazing orgasm of your entire life, gazing at the ceiling as static fills your brain in ocean waves of dumbified pleasure.

Then your mouth gapes open at the sight in front of you. Beautifully red pubes trail right over his giant hand, fisting the biggest cock you’ve seen.

“Ngh, t-too big,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m shocked you can speak,” he laughs darkly.

“Barely,” you try to prop yourself up on your elbows, but it’s so difficult and you fall back down.

He laughs at you, humiliating you in his stare. “Such a weak kitten,” the demon mocks you in faux sympathy.

You feel as though you nutting just now made you so insanely tired.

“Just lay back, dollface, you’re giving daddy life energy as a snack. Gonna make you even prettier, so dumb you can’t even speak.”

Before you can protest, he’s spearing you with his cockhead, ripping a loud moan from your throat.

He’s merciless, as no god has shown him, a fallen angel, any mercy. So why should he, an incubus leeching off of your sexual energy, show any mercy to a cunt that’s all his and swallows him in just right.

He continues to sink into you, and your nails pay him back by digging into him now, in his meaty forearms.

Kid’s tongue darts out over his crimson lips.

“Keep,” he thrusts out slightly, admiring the way you grip him, “fucking,” he thrusts back in all the way, making you shriek, “taking it.” The pain is so much, too much, the stretch fucking burns at how large of a cock is intruding you, but he hammers into you without regards to your comfort or pleasure. He’s the one using you, fucking you like you’re his breathing flesh light, like you’re the one working for him though he’s the escort demon. Ramming in, threatening to fuck right into your cervix, overload. You’re clamping down, your walls are rejecting him. It makes him curse loudly at how hard it is for him to move, but he’s stronger than a mere human, so ever the sadist, Kid pumps in regardless.

The pain of his unrelenting, selfish thrusts starts to turn slowly into pleasure, and the fullness and overwhelming stretch feels delicious. Your mind turns dumb and you start to whine.

“M-more,” you moan, and he grabs your tit harshly, twisting your nipple painfully, making tears rush to your eyes. He does so to the other tit, then slaps them roughly. You whimper his name, back arching like an exorcism in progress. Except exiting you, this demon is not.

“Yeah? You need some more, you selfish brat?” He growls, pace deepening and quickening. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere, not until the sun is up.” His hips snap against yours, and his nails rake down your body to fold your thighs against your chest, his crushing weight pinning you to the bed. Your mattress hitting the wall. You struggle to catch the breath that’s knocked out of you in this position.

“Fucking look at me,” he suddenly jibes, and you obediently make eye contact with him. “Now don’t you dare fucking look away or quiet those pretty noises. I want to make you scream.”

He’s going at an inhuman speed, and so fucking deep in this mating press, and hits the spot that made you cum before. His balls slapping against your ass, making you scream.

“Eustass! Eustass! Please, please, please, yes, Nnnn! Please!” You beg him to keep going, as he growls, “fuck yes, beg, princess, beg for this fucking cock,” his thrusts getting sloppier as your cunt tightens around him. Your eyes roll back a little, as he’s fucking you dumb.

“Ah!!!” You yelp, as he roughly slaps your ass.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Eustass snarls, and you bite your lip, face flushed as he glowers at you.

“T-to, to uh, look at you,” you say dumbly, gasping for air.

“That’s a smart girl,” he rubs your clit, making you squirm, and he condescendingly coos down at you, “so why don’t you look at me as I wreck you, hmm?”

His body is so big, so hot, he’s so heavy and wide as your poor legs stretch to accommodate his wide shoulders while he opens you like a flower and pounds into you. He smells so fucking good, you think, and you want him to cum inside of you and claim you as his, and you struggle but do your best to keep looking into his wild eyes. He’s absolutely feral, so intimidating, and your body rocks at his severity so you grasp the base of his horns. A little moan leaves him, and if he wasn’t pressed up so close to you, flooding up all of your thoughts and walls and senses, it would have gone undetected.

A darkness takes over his eyes. “Now you’ve fucking done it,” his voice drops ever lower, and he pulls out. Flips you over onto your hands and knees, pulls your hips to face the ceiling, and bottoms back in in one thrust. The new angle has you screaming and moaning his name, “EU—fuck!!!!” You whimper loudly, and he pushes your head down into the covers.

“Yeah—this pussy—is all—fucking mine—you hear that?” he rumbles in between thrusts, slapping your ass again as he arches your back impossibly, balls slapping your cunt. You’re too dumb to understand what he’s saying and he knows that. Your slick is everywhere between the two of you and it’s making him absolutely drunk and feral.

You’re unable to speak real words, you’re babbling and you claw the sheets as he batters your insides over and over like a battering ram. Tears and drool are soaking the covers beneath you, as you moan while you let him use you. He kneads and slaps your ass again. “Look at me.” He reminds you harshly.

You weakly turn your head to look back at him, blubbering, and his pointy, evil grin sends a jolt straight to your core again.

“You’re my fucking pet, and any man you let have this,” he makes a slicing movement with his finger over his throat. “Got it?”

You’re so gorgeous, hair plastered to your forehead and all wild, face flushed and teary, eyelashes fluttering up at him, gasping, as you whimper, “y-yes, Eustass, I belong to you,” and his deep thrusts slow luxuriously.

“Good girl,” he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up until your back meets his sweaty inferno of a chest. He rubs more circles on your puffy, abused clit and you squirm from the buzzing overstimulation of another impending orgasm. He eats up how you clench around him, and as your head spins dizzily from him still thrusting up into you deeply, he sinks his teeth into your right shoulder, claiming you.

You cry out weakly from the pain, and spasm around him like a voodoo victim and he lazily fucks you through your second orgasm, enjoying how you make a mess all over his hand.

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” he groans, lapping at the blood on your shoulder, as you squirt all over his arm, and his cock is absolutely drenched, dripping down to his balls. He moans and with a few more thrusts, stills. He fills you up with hot cum.

The giant incubus turns you both around, you still out of breath, dumb, on his cock. “Look here.” He says, like Virgil from Dante’s Inferno showing the writer the lustful circle of hell.

You peer at your reflection in the mirror. You, so fucked out, almost unrecognizable, crying, glowing, lips plump from biting them. A huge bite mark on your shoulder. Bruised hips. Both of you scratched up with a little bit of blood. Legs shaking as you’re sitting pretty on his cock, a bulge evident in your tummy. His huge hands encircling you, him, possessively overshadowing you. He’s so much bigger than you, his width eclipsing you in the reflection.

You lean your head back tiredly. He whispers lowly into your ear. “ ‘M only just getting started with you, but look at how pretty you are as my pet, yeah? This is what I’m gonna see every single night, aren’t you excited?”

You tiredly turn your head to smoosh into his pillowy chest, his smell overpowering your senses, and you look up to him. “This is all I need,” you whisper back.

He sets you down on wobbly legs and holds you up a little. He cups your jaw in his giant hand, and the white of his canines shines. His lipstick is slightly smeared. He looks gorgeous, sinister, a glowing star of red, black, amber, and pale skin.

Then he kisses you, in a way that’s startlingly soft and passionate, in his ferocious way because Eustass is, well, Eustass. He pulls away, eyes glittering darkly.

“That’s the right response, darling.”

———————————————————————-

TO BE CONTINUED 🏴‍☠️ -> part 2!

#[✏️] speaking in tongues #demon papí draws #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x fem reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #op smut #zoro smut #sanji smut #law smut #ace smut #Luffy smut

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