#i know the next step is to go punch a tree but all the trees growing here are pretty and i dont want to

[shrapnarl]

.

quick dreamsnso i can find them later

[prael]

Drive You Crazy

Aespa Winter x Male Reader // Quickfire Challenge 2

words: 4,988 Masterlist

"That's it. You're so not getting any tonight. I already told you, it's the lighting." There's an inflexion at the end of the sentence. A little indicator, a warning light, Winter's about to raise her voice - lose her cool - and it'll be the second time in as many minutes.

"Did you shave them off?" you ask, leaning in far too close to her brow.

"What?!" she snaps. "I did not shave off my fucking eyebrows."

"Is it some sort of trend? Are people into that? If it is then I don’t think I like it."

"Not only are you not getting any, you're sleeping on the floor." She's trying not to get angry, trying to make this all into a joke, but the way her lips are pursed - and those are still perfect, as ever - means you've pushed her a little too far.

"I don't want to sleep with someone with no eyebrows anyway."

No words this time, only a punch in your left arm. You yelp in mock pain, rubbing your shoulder as though she's actually done any real damage. You start stumbling ahead of her, acting out a limp, and you know she's staring at you with that 'fuck-off-now-or-I'm-actually-gonna-hit-you' expression on her face. "That did not hurt, stop it."

"I'm pretty sure I've got a bruise, look." You turn around, rolling up the sleeve of your t-shirt to expose the skin below. It's not there, obviously, but you wait until Winter's standing beside you before you start laughing. She doesn't find it quite so funny.

"You're so fragile. So easily damaged," she says, walking past you, bumping your shoulder again. Her dress ripples in the gentle breeze that whips up behind the trees to your right, before flowing through, carrying the scent of pine, earth, and fresh grass. A fitting compliment to the lake on your left, and the setting sun above. The sky is painted a vivid red, with a gradient of pink, orange and purple, and the clouds are thin, like wisps of cotton candy.

You follow a few steps behind, plotting your next move, your next opportunity to annoy her. It's a game you love to play because you know that no matter how much she might pretend otherwise, Winter does enjoy it. And it's easy to wind her up, so easy. "Hey, can we go for a swim? It looks like it's really warm."

"No," she says, not even bothering to look back at you.

"God, you're so boring." You catch up to her, walk side by side, and wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, kissing her on the temple, just below her hairline. "But you are the prettiest girl here, I'll give you that."

"Shut up, I'm the only girl here," she says, though the hint of a smile appears. "I'm boring for not wanting to throw myself in a lake filled with who knows what."

"Fish," you say.

"Exactly."

"And plants, and water..."

"Thank you for clearing that up."

"Don't mention it."

"You're an ass, do you know that?"

"So you keep telling me."

"Yeah, well, maybe one day you'll start believing me."

"Maybe."

The two of you continue walking along the dirt path, through the trees, and out towards the clearing. Winter's arm has made its way around your waist, and now the two of you are walking in time, matching strides, the sound of your steps on the gravel echoing in a pattern that becomes almost rhythmic. You're close to your cabin now, just a few more minutes and you'll be able to throw off your shoes and fall onto the bed, pull her down with you, and-

"I'm gonna take a bath," Winter says.

"Funny, I was just thinking something similar."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, I was thinking you could take a bath right now." You bend and scoop Winter up into your arms, lifting her from her feet and holding her tight against your chest. She lets out a loud, high-pitched scream, but it's followed by a laugh.

"What are you doing? Put me down."

"Nope." You're already moving, already half-running, and as her hands come to rest on the side of your neck, you feel her fingers pressing hard into your skin, trying to keep her balance.

"Are you serious?"

"Always," you reply.

"You're such a dumbass. If you drop me-"

"Gonna drop you alright." You veer left before you reach the cabin, stepping onto the pier and out towards the middle of the lake, ignoring the screams of protest from Winter.

"You are not dropping me in there, I swear to God, if you do, I'm leaving you. I will never-"

You cut her off, letting her drop into the water with a splash, and you stand there, watching as her head pops out from beneath the surface, hair flat against her forehead, sticking to her cheeks. "It's freezing cold, you shit!" She yells.

"What? You were looking a little hot, figured a dip in the lake would cool you down."

"I hate you." She splashes water in your direction.

"Oh, you don't mean that," you reply, bending at the knees, peering over the edge of the dock. She's wiping her hair from her face, and there's a glare, a dark shadow cast across her features that makes you think you've gone a step too far.

"Get in," she says, grabbing your ankles and pulling.

"Winter! Don't-" You're falling before you have time to finish the sentence, and the world seems to move in slow motion, the water approaching as if it's coming to a stop for you, rather than the other way around. You break the surface, spluttering, coughing. "It's fucking freezing."

"That's what I just said."

"Yeah, well," you try to catch your breath, "I guess I was too busy admiring how hot you were to pay any attention."

"Don't start saying nice things after you've already dunked me in here. I'll never believe you again."

"Come here."

"Why?"

"Just, come here." You reach out, grabbing her hand, and pulling her towards you.

"We're gonna get hypothermia," she snaps.

"I'll warm you up."

Your hands meet her hips, and she wraps her legs around your waist, her arms around your neck. It's an embrace that's been repeated a thousand times, but one you know will never become repetitive. The way her lips move against yours is always exciting, always fresh, as if it's the first time all over again. And when you feel her tongue slip inside your mouth, and her fingers tangle themselves in your hair, there's nothing in the world you want more.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Winter says.

"I know."

"But you're my asshole."

"I know."

You kiss her again, and as her teeth gently bite your bottom lip, your grip on her tightens.

"Let's get back to the cabin," she whispers.

"Why?"

"Because," she says, "I want to fuck you."

"I thought I wasn't getting any tonight."

"Shut up already, will you?"

-

You leave a trail of water in your wake. Through the doorway, over the hardwood floor, making a trail to the bathroom. There are puddles on the carpet, droplets of water clinging to your skin, and goosebumps covering both your bodies. You feel them on her as you peel the dress from her body. Light fabric, sodden and made heavy, clinging to her every curve, and every crease, until it's a puddle on the floor.

"You're a mess," she says, and there's a playful grin on her face.

"Me?" You look down, running your eyes over her naked form. "Yeah, right. Look at you. Think we washed off whatever was left of your eyebrows, though."

She hits you with the palm of her hand, and then her arms are wrapped around your neck, her lips pressed against yours. You step forward, pushing her into the shower and then you reach out, palming against the wall and searching for the knob. Water cascades from the ceiling, and your eyes are open, staring straight into Winter's as her hand grips your wrist, pulling it downwards, pressing your fingers against her. You're smiling, and she is too.

"Is this the part where I'm not getting any?" You ask, and her response is a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head.

"It's the part where you stop talking." She kisses you again, and you're more than happy to comply. Her tongue slips into your mouth, your finger into her cunt, and it's hot, wet, and desperate - the kiss and the cunt. It's the latter that has you weak at the knees.

You press her against the tiled wall, her back arching away from the cold surface. The shower's a tight squeeze, and the steam and spray are starting to fill the small space, but the water's warm, and Winter's warmer. And as you slip another finger inside her, her eyes flutter closed and her nails dig into the back of your neck, dragging along the skin.

You're at her neck now, an assault on her senses. Tongue and teeth and lips and hands, all working together to coax out moans, gasps, and whispers. "Don't stop." You hear her say, and it's not as if you could, or would.

It's the little things that make you want to worship her. The way her breath catches when you suck on her pulse point, the way her nails dig harder, her hands grab tighter, the way she starts rolling her hips and grinding against the heel of your palm. You curl your fingers, push in deeper, and feel her clench, tightening around them.

You've got her fucking planted against the wall. Water runs down her naked form. Rolling down those shoulders; a cascade over her breasts; flowing over her toned stomach that tightens ever more by the second; dripping off her thighs, which are spread wide, and shaking with each thrust of your fingers. And, finally, the rivulets of water that stream down her back, her ass, her legs.

You pull her into another kiss, and the noises she's making are driving you crazy. Her moans, her pants, her curses. And the way her lips tremble and her jaw quivers. "Fuck, keep going, just like that," she whispers, and your heart skips a beat, and the throbbing between your legs becomes almost painful.

You know she's getting close. She always gets the same look on her face. That expression of pleasure mixed with pain like the feeling's almost too much, but it's just enough. And when she cums, she throws her head back, and her hands ball into fists. And the only sound she makes is a gasp, and her body goes rigid, her walls tighten, and you feel her cumming against your fingers, and then her knees buckle and you have to catch her, hold her steady.

"You're always so easy," you tease, and her eyes open. She's looking at you like she wants to punch you, or fuck you, or both. Maybe.

"No, I'm not." There's that signature furrow of her brow, that telltale crease.

"So easy," you repeat.

"I'll show you easy," she says, and the next thing you know, your back's against the tiles and her mouth is on yours.

And, oh, does she show you.

-

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

You're lying beside each other, the sheets pulled up, barely covering the two of you. Your bodies are entwined, your limbs tangled, and Winter's head rests on your chest, her ear against your chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of your heartbeat.

"Talk about what?" Winter asks.

"Well, we've never done that before."

"We have sex all the time," she says quizzically.

"That wasn't just sex," you reply.

"My ass?" She looks up at you.

"Your ass." You nod, smiling. "That was.... new. How was it? Did it hurt?"

"You know, the fact that you're asking questions and not making jokes is kinda weirding me out. Don't think it's going to be a regular thing, okay?" Winter rolls off your chest and onto her back, her head resting on her own pillow, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "How was it for you?"

"Unexpected. Hot."

"You can stop trying to play it cool. I saw you back there, losing your mind while you fucked my ass."

"You're the one who came so hard that she nearly passed out."

"Shut up," she laughs. "Go to sleep. And don't even think about touching me in the morning. My ass hurts."

"I could kiss it better."

"Fuck off," she says, slapping your arm, but there's a smile on her lips, and then she shuffles closer to you, draping an arm over your stomach.

-

"Last day," Winter sighs as she looks out onto the lake from the balcony, her arms folded across the railing as she leans forward against it. The metal is cool on her exposed stomach. She's wearing one of your shirts and nothing else, and the way the morning breeze ripples against it sends a chill running up her spine. The sun is already warming her skin though, and the coolness is more than welcome.

"Not ready to leave?" you ask from inside the cabin, still packing the clothes you brought with you.

"I'm not sure," she replies, turning her head, and watching you fold a t-shirt and place it into the suitcase that sits open on the bed. "I do miss my own bed, but I'm not sure I want to go back to reality yet."

"Reality can wait another few hours, don't you think?" you ask as you approach her on the balcony, wrapping your arms around her from behind, your hands resting on her stomach, pulling her closer.

"I guess," she says. "We'll leave and then be replaced by some other young couple that will fuck all day, every day."

"Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?"

"No, not at all," she says, rolling her eyes. "I'm not the jealous type."

"I think you might be," you say, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck, just below her hairline. "Remember when we were in that bar, and the bartender kept winking at me?"

"How could I forget? I wanted to smash my bottle over her head."

"Point proven." Another kiss and your fingers begin to play with the edge of the shirt. "So, we have a few hours left. Want to go for a walk somewhere? Maybe we can see where the trails go today?"

"Maybe you can get down on your knees?"

"You want to waste the last day of vacation in bed?"

"Sex with a view? Yes please." Winter pulls your hand onto her ass, and you can feel her smile when you press your lips against the back of her neck again. "You can't say you don't like the idea."

"That doesn't mean it's not a waste." You reply, trailing kisses on her neck, and along her shoulders.

"So you don't want to fuck me against that balcony?"

"Don't get it twisted. I'm going to fuck you against that balcony." You run a hand up from her hip, over her toned stomach, underneath the shirt, until it meets her breast. It fits perfectly like it was made just for you, and you feel her hardening nipple press against your palm.

"Then stop talking and put that mouth of yours to work."

"I'm gonna eat you until your legs give out," you whisper into her ear. She lets out a soft gasp just before you slide down to your knees, your hands on her ass. "Hands on the railing."

"Why?"

"Just, trust me," you reply. You hear a faint giggle and then feel her shift slightly, the skin of her palms pressing against the metal bars of the railing.

You push up the shirt, bunching it at the small of her back, baring her cute ass to the world. You plant kisses on her right cheek, biting gently, dragging your teeth across her smooth flesh. Your hands run down the backs of her thighs, fingers trailing up the inside until they reach their destination, her wet cunt. You feel the heat first, the warmth emanating from her, the dampness between her thighs. Your thumb runs along her slit and her legs buckle ever so slightly, her grip tightening on the railing.

You start slow, your thumb parting her, the tip running along her folds, stopping just short of her clit before repeating the pattern. She lets out a breathy moan, her body already responding to your touch. You continue to adorn her ass in kisses, your tongue leaving wet patches on her soft skin.

Winter rolls her hips, pushing herself against you. "Not quite the knee-buckling orgasm I was promised."

"You're so needy." You smile and take firm hold of her ass with both hands. "And annoying." You spread her open and run the flat of your tongue from the front to the back. She moans again, her back arching, pushing her ass further out, and you do the same thing once more, and again, and again. Until she's whining, and the muscles in her stomach tighten.

You eat Winter's ass as if you were starved of her like you hadn't already spent days doing exactly that, as if her taste were a drug you'd gone too long without. You lose yourself in her. You forget the world around the two of you. You're barely aware of your surroundings anymore; all that matters is having your face buried between her cheeks, your tongue in her hole, and the sounds coming out of her mouth. You're drunk on her.

"Fuck!" she moans. Her knuckles are turning white, and you know that she's trying to stop herself from reaching behind her, pulling you into her, grabbing fistfuls of your hair, and forcing you deeper.

You take a moment of respite, planting kisses over her soft cheeks. "You're gonna wake up the entire forest if you keep making noise," you say.

"Don't stop," she replies.

"Wasn't planning on it."

You dip back down, running your tongue over her hole, pressing harder this time. Her body shakes and shudders as she fights to stay upright. Her thighs are shaking and she's clenching, and you feel the pressure of her ring tightening as if she were trying to pull your tongue in.

The sun is beating down on both of you now, and the sweat rolls down your back. You can taste it on her too. A sheen on her skin, kissed by the morning sunlight, and there are droplets of sweat collecting in the dimples above her ass, which you make sure to kiss, too.

"Oh fuck, keep going." Winter's head drops and her hair cascades around her face. You reach around her, finding her pussy soaking, dripping. You dip your fingers in, pushing them past her folds. She's tight and wet, and so hot that it almost feels like your fingers might melt. Almost. Her hips buck and her breathing quickens. "Don't you fucking stop."

"Not planning to," you reply, muffled, your face pressed against her.

So here you are, middle of a forest, on the balcony of a rented cabin that feels as if it's a million miles away from society. Your girlfriend is standing with both hands gripping the metal bars of the balcony railing, naked, her head down, hair everywhere, back arched and pushing her ass back against your face. You're on your knees, hands on her hips, fingers inside her. Your mouth, lips, and tongue are worshipping her in a way that feels almost religious. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

She's going to cum. It's some sort of cosmic truth that you can feel, in the same way you know the sun is going to set tonight, and the moon will appear. She's going to cum on your fingers and on your tongue. She's going to shake and scream, and she'll have to sit down when you're done with her.

"Oh, I'm so close," she moans.

You don't respond. You simply redouble your efforts. You curl your fingers and you drag the tip of your tongue over her sensitive hole. Her breathing is ragged, and she's losing her mind. The muscles in her ass and thighs are tightening and her back is arched so hard that it looks painful. You feel her clench, and then her entire body is spasming as if electricity is coursing through her veins.

Winter lets out a string of curses as she cums on your fingers, your hand, your arm, the floor - she's making a mess of everything. And when it finally passes, and she's standing, shaking, you stand too, wrap her in your arms and pull her into an embrace. "I think my legs actually went weak." She's breathing hard and there are tears in her eyes, and she's looking at you with that same expression she always has after she's cum.

"Told you," you say.

"Yeah, well," she breathes hard, looking out over nature's beauty. "I'm still standing." You kiss the back of her neck again and you can't help but smile. It's the smile that only Winter can put on your face, and as the sun climbs higher in the sky, you're happy to be spending your days in this little piece of heaven.

"Good. It would have been a real shame if you gave up already. We have a whole morning, after all." You pull her shirt (Your shirt? The details are meaningless.) up roughly and expose her lithe body to the world. You pull it at her neck, using the bunched-up fabric to hold her in place. You press into the small of her back, bend her over the railing, and your hand wanders down to her hip.

"I'm surprised you have anything left to give after this week." Winter chuckles and pushes her ass against you. "Drained you dry and then some."

-

"Just keep your eyes on the road, will you?" Winter snaps.

"Kinda difficult with you doing that," you say.

"I mean it. Don't you dare crash. I don't want to be in the news as the idol who crashed with her boyfriend's cock in her mouth."

"It's not even in your mouth."

"Not yet." She flashes a mischievous smile as she strokes you.

"We've been on the road for less than twenty minutes and you're already on me," you laugh. "You can barely go an hour without me inside you."

"You weren't complaining earlier when I was riding you."

"I wasn't driving a high-speed hunk of metal down the highway then. , take it easy."

"I don't think I can. I've got my hands on your big cock, how am I meant to control myself?" Winter's hand runs down the entire length, from base to tip. "I just want it in me all the time."

"I'll pull over, okay?"

"Don't pull over." Winter's hand is replaced by her head in your lap. "Eyes on the road."

"Fuck," you say, as her tongue swirls around the tip. You can feel her hand gripping your cock tight. Her lips slide down to meet it. She's wet, warm, and so inviting that you find your eyes drifting down to watch, only to have to look back to the road.

Winter doesn't take your entire length in one go, no, she takes her time, teasing the tip of your cock before licking the entire length, base to top. It's a game for her, a game you love, but a game nonetheless. She wants you to cum, but she wants to drag it out for as long as she can.

Your hands are gripped tightly around the wheel, knuckles white. The urge to grab her head and push her down on your cock, to gag her with it, to have her choke on it, to use her pretty little face for nothing more than her own pleasure, it's overwhelming. "Just let me pull over," you say.

"No time. Eyes on the road."

The next ten minutes seem to last an hour. Winter's mouth is doing its magic, taking you deeper with every movement, taking more and more until the entire thing is down her throat. You hear her gag on it, feel the vibrations against the head, and your cock throbs in her mouth.

She pulls up with a pop and a gasp for air, and then she's at it again, bobbing up and down on it, her spit running down the sides of the shaft.

"Shit, keep doing that," you whisper. Winter's tongue runs over the head of your cock, and you're struggling to concentrate, but then it stops - the contact gone. "Fuck, Winter. Come on, I'm so close."

"I know." She says. "That's why I stopped." There's a glint in her eye, something you recognise.

"Oh come on, are you seriously-"

"Yep," she cuts you off, sitting back in the passenger seat. "My turn." She unbuttons her jeans and shimmies them down off her hips. Just enough so she can slip a hand under them.

"That's it. I'm pulling over."

"No! We'll be late. You have to keep driving," Winter moans as she begins to touch herself. Her legs spread wider and you watch her out of the corner of your eye.

"Winter..."

"I said eyes on the fucking road," she growls, her fingers picking up pace.

It's the most awkward fifteen minutes of your life, and it feels like you spend more of the time staring at her than at the road. Winter is panting, gasping, moaning. She's grinding her hips into the seat and she's thrown her head back, eyes shut, mouth agape. And her fingers are working her pussy like she's possessed.

She puts her leg up on the dash and sinks deeper into the seat. You can see how wet her cunt is from here. It glistens with the juices dripping out of her. Her nipples are poking through her shirt, and you want to pull over and fuck her brains out, but she keeps telling you no, so instead, you watch her finger herself in the passenger seat.

Winter's close, you can tell. Her breathing is shallow and ragged, and she's mumbling something under her breath, too quiet for you to hear. Her body starts to tremble and shake, and you're half-watching, half-driving when she finally cums. Hard. And she screams, and you swerve, and someone behind you blares their horn, and you can barely breathe. She looks like a mad woman. She's still writhing, grinding, and panting, her fingers rubbing circles on her clit, her back arching.

"This is torture," you whisper, eyes glued back to the road, heart thumping, palms sweating.

"I think I'm going to pass out," Winter breathes, slumping down in her seat. "Fuck that felt good."

"Great, now how about a fucking hand here?" you laugh, gesturing at your dick. It's throbbing, and aching, and it needs to be touched.

"Oh, right." She's out of breath, but she manages to pull her pants back on, button them up, and crawl back into your lap, her fingers wrapping around your shaft. "Guess I forgot."

"How convenient."

Winter wraps her lips around your cock again, and this time, she's more eager. Her tongue swirls around the tip while she moves her head up and down. You feel the pressure building in your abdomen, and the world is starting to blur. It's just her and her pretty pink lips wrapped around you. Her tongue is hot and wet and so fucking soft. And she's sucking you. She's moaning with your cock in her mouth, and it's sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"You're hungry," you grunt.

"Mm-hmm," Winter responds. She shifts onto her knees on the passenger seat, her cute ass in the air and her mouth wrapped around your dick. Everyone you overtake could just glance over and see her. Tight jeans and a tighter ass; they'd be hard-pressed to look away. But you're not going to be pressing anything except her face into your cock. Your hand finds its way to the back of her head and you push down gently until the entire length is in her mouth.

"Winter..." you grunt with one hand on the wheel and one in her hair. She bobs her head, and you feel her gag and choke. Spit dribbles down the corners of her mouth and onto your lap, and her eyes water, but she doesn't stop, she just keeps going, and you feel yourself building up, getting closer.

Winter moans around you and the vibration sends shockwaves through you. It's so hard not to thrust up into her. She gags, and you feel the head of your cock hitting the back of her throat.

"Fuck, just like that. Keep doing that." Your knuckles are white, and Winter's eyes are watering. Your fingers grip her hair tighter, pushing down on her, and her eyes roll back, her body trembling.

You cum in her mouth. Your entire body tenses up, and the road disappears. Your eyes are shut, and your back arches off the chair, and your hand grips her head. You fill that pretty mouth with your hot cum. She sucks it down, greedily swallowing it all.

Your eyes snap open. You're lucky. You didn't crash. You're still on the road, and you're alive, and you've just cum harder than ever.

"Better?" Winter asks, popping off of you.

"Much better." You say, trying to regain your composure.

"Good." She smiles at you, wiping at her chin. "How'd you like to get home late?"

"Oh, so now we're pulling over?" You laugh. You find a turn and take it, then another, until you're parked, overlooking a field. Winter's hands are already exploring under your shirt, and she's kissing your neck.

"Gonna ride you so hard that you can't think straight for the rest of the day."

[inseobts]

Bet

sabo x gn!reader

you meet your childhood rival and crush again after thinking you've lost him forever.

words count: 1.2k

tags: spoilers about sabo(?), rivalry, childhood crush, romance, humour, angst, gender neutral

masterlist || ko-fi

The wind rustles through the trees of Dawn Island, carrying the scent of salt and adventure. You stand at the edge of the forest, hands on your hips, glaring at Sabo. He glares right back, that infuriating smirk on his face.

“You’re gonna lose” he taunts, tossing an apple in the air and catching it effortlessly.

“Tch, in your dreams, rich boy” you snap, crouching into position. The goal is simple: first one to reach the river and back wins. But to you and Sabo, this is war.

Ace and Luffy sit on the sidelines, watching the two of you like a live-action play.

“Why do they always do this?” Luffy mumbles, stuffing his face with meat.

Ace snickers “Because they’re stupid kids. And because Sabo’s trying to impress y/n.”

Luffy tilts his head “I thought he hated them?”

Ace shakes his head “Nope. The other day he told me he’s gonna marry y/n one day.”

Luffy almost chokes “What?! But they’re always fighting! And where was I??”

Ace grins “You were sleeping like the baby you are. Anyway y/n has no idea, so it's a secret”

You, of course, don’t hear this conversation. All you hear is the count.

“Three… two… one—GO!”

You and Sabo take off, kicking up dirt. You’re fast, but he’s faster. He always is. It infuriates you. But you push yourself harder, determination burning in your chest. For a split second, you think you might actually win...

Then Sabo’s hand grips your wrist, yanking you back just enough for him to sprint ahead.

“YOU CHEATER!” you shriek.

“Work smarter, not harder!” he calls back, laughing.

He reaches the finish line first, arms raised in victory. You arrive seconds later, seething.

“You’re the worst” you growl.

Sabo winks “And yet, you keep challenging me.”

You huff, turning away. You’ll beat him next time.

Sabo is dead...

The words shatter something inside you. First, he went missing. Then he was gone. Just like that.

You sit on the shore, watching the waves crash against the rocks. You don’t cry, not in front of Ace and Luffy. But at night, when no one can hear, you let the tears fall.

He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to grow up with you, to keep annoying you, to keep winning. You were supposed to beat him at least once.

But now you never will.

So you make a decision. You can't lose another one of your friends, so you’ll fight for Luffy. You’ll help him reach his dream. And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough to at least try fill the hole in your heart.

The world shifts beneath your feet.

You stare, mouth slightly open, heart hammering against your ribs.

Sabo.

Alive.

He grins at Luffy, ruffling his hair, and your chest tightens. This isn’t real. It can’t be. But then his eyes find yours, and the grin falters.

“y/n…”

Your breath catches. He looks older, stronger, but those blue eyes are the same. And they’re looking at you like he’s seeing a ghost.

You don’t think. You act.

With a sharp inhale, you march up to him and punch him square in the face.

Luffy cackles. Koala gasps. Sabo stumbles, rubbing his jaw “Ow. Okay. I deserved that.”

“You’re damn right you did!” you snap, fists clenched “You let us believe you were dead, you absolute asshole!”

He has the audacity to chuckle “Well, technically, I didn’t know I was alive, either.”

You glare “That’s not funny.”

His expression softens “No. It’s not.” He hesitates, then steps closer. “I… I missed you, y/n.”

You swallow hard “Yeah, well. You have a shitty way of showing it.”

Luffy slings an arm around both of you “This is great! Now we can all hang out again!”

Your eyes narrow “I don’t think I want to hang out with him.”

Sabo smirks “Holding a grudge? Come on, I thought you’d grow up by now.”

You scoff “Oh, please. I can still kick your ass.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow “Wanna bet?”

And just like that, it begins again.

It starts small.

An arm-wrestling match at the bar.

“You’ve got noodle arms, Sabo.”

He grins “And yet, I still win.”

A stupid dare.

“I dare you to flirt with the next person who walks in.”

You do. Sabo sulks the rest of the night.

And then the others get involved.

Koala, amused by the whole ordeal, makes a bet with Luffy “I say one of them confesses first.”

Luffy tilts his head “Confess what?”

Franky laughs “About their feelings”

Luffy’s eyes widen “Oh! Sabo’s gonna lose, then.”

Everyone stares.

“Wait” Nami leans in, hoping he knows something that can make her win that bet “why are you so sure?”

“Yeah,” Luffy shrugs “He’s been saying he’d marry y/n since we were kids.”

Silence.

Then, chaos.

You and Sabo, oblivious, continue your stupid challenges. But now, the crew is watching closely, waiting for one of you to slip.

And maybe, just maybe, one of you will.

Sabo leans against the railing of the Sunny, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips “Admit it, y/n. You can’t win anything against me.”

You scoff, tightening your grip on the barrel of sake in front of you “You wish, rich boy” you glare at him, cheeks already warm from the last round “Next bet.”

The crew has gathered around, eagerly watching as you and Sabo go head-to-head once again. This time, it’s a drinking contest, and things are getting interesting.

Luffy, sitting cross-legged beside Franky, grins “Sabo’s totally gonna lose.”

Nami chuckles, taking a sip of her own drink “You think so?”

“He might win the challanges buy he always loses when it comes to y/n, I don't think that changed” Luffy says casually.

Robin smirks “You mean when it comes to his feelings?”

Luffy tilts his head. The crew groans.

Meanwhile, you slam your cup down, staring Sabo dead in the eye. “Still standing.”

He raises an eyebrow “Barely.”

You roll your eyes and gesture toward him “Your turn, hotshot.”

Sabo picks up his drink, but instead of drinking it right away, he grins “Let’s raise the stakes.”

You narrow your eyes “I’m listening.”

“If I win, you do whatever I say for a day.”

You scoff “Please. And if I win?”

His smirk falters for a split second before he recovers “Same deal. I’m yours for a day.”

The crew collectively gasps.

Zoro chokes on his drink. Sanji drops his cigarette. Nami leans forward in delight.

You blink, caught off guard. But then your competitive nature kicks in, and you smirk “Fine. You’re on.”

You both down your drinks at the same time, and for a while, the match is even. But then you see it, Sabo’s fingers tighten around the glass. His eyelids droop for a second too long.

He’s reaching his limit.

You grin triumphantly “You can't win this one, I've trained with Zoro for years... And looks like you’re about to pass out, rich boy.”

Zoro, now at your side smirks.

Sabo felt a feeling of jealousy but he tries his best to stay composed and chuckles, setting his cup down “Nah. Just taking my time.”

But Koala, standing off to the side, shakes her head “He’s done.”

Sabo groans “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

The crew erupts into cheers as you throw your arms in the air “Ha! Suck it, Sabo!”

Sabo sighs, rubbing his temples “Alright, alright. A bet’s a bet. What’s your request, oh mighty victor?”

You pretend to think, tapping your chin. Then, with a mischievous grin, you say, “You have to compliment me every time you speak to me tomorrow.”

The crew howls with laughter.

Sabo groans “You’re evil.”

“You love it” you tease.

His eyes flicker with something unreadable, and for a split second, you swear his smirk softens.

“Maybe” he murmurs, too quiet for you to catch.

The next morning, you wake up to the best sound in the world... Sabo suffering.

“Good morning, Sabo!” you chirp, stretching.

He groans from where he’s sitting, nursing a cup of coffee “Good morning, y/n… my shining spirit of the seas.”

Luffy bursts out laughing “You sound so weird.”

Sabo sighs “I hate this already.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, grinning “That’s not very enthusiastic.”

Sabo pinches the bridge of his nose “You’re breathtakingly annoying.”

Nami snickers “That counts.”

All day, Sabo follows through with his punishment.

“Wow, y/n, your swordsmanship is as graceful as a swan in flight.”

“You’re incredibly skilled at eating three plates of food in record time.”

“I have never met someone as stubbornly determined to make my life miserable as you, and it’s truly awe-inspiring.”

By the time the sun begins to set, he’s exhausted. You, on the other hand, are having the time of your life.

“Admit it” you tease, nudging his shoulder “You’re enjoying this.”

Sabo rolls his eyes, but his smirk is back “You’re impossible.”

“But?”

He hesitates.

But before he can respond, Sanji appears with drinks, and the moment passes.

The crew finally make the bet official: who will confess first?

Koala places her money on Sabo “He’s been head over heels since they were kids.”

Zoro shrugs “y/n’s just as bad.”

Luffy, grinning, throws in his input “But I told you that Sabo already kinda confessed years ago! When we were little, he told Ace who told me that one day, he’ll give y/n their favourite candy ring and make them his spouse!”

Meanwhile, you and Sabo continue your rivalry, completely unaware of how obvious your feelings have become.

But one of you is bound to crack first.

And when that happens?

Well.

The real fun begins.

The next few days on the Sunny are torture.

Things between you have shifted. It’s subtle, but it’s there, the way his gaze lingers on you a little too long, the way your heartbeat picks up whenever he’s near. And, of course, the infuriating way your crewmates won’t stop watching, waiting for one of you to slip.

Sabo, to his credit, acts like everything is normal. You? Not so much.

“Oi, y/n, you okay?” Zoro asks one afternoon, watching you repeatedly stab a piece of meat with your fork.

You blink “Huh? Yeah. Why?”

“You’re massacring your food,” he deadpans.

Sanji, setting down a fresh plate, grins “they’re just distracted. I wonder why~”

You shoot him a glare “Shut up.”

The cook winks “Don’t worry, my beauty, I support you.”

You groan, dropping your fork. Across the deck, Sabo is laughing at something Koala said, and you swear she catches your eye on purpose before smirking.

This is a nightmare.

“Alright, it’s time.”

Nami’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. She and Robin sit around a small pile of gold, each with amused smirks.

“Time for what?” you ask warily.

Koala arrives and grins putting some gold as the others, “Final bets.”

Luffy perks up “Oh! We’re picking who confesses first!”

You freeze “Excuse me?”

Robin chuckles “Come now, y/n. Surely you’ve noticed.”

You open your mouth, ready to deny it, but then Zoro speaks.

“You like him.”

Sanji nods “And he likes you.”

Franky grins “It’s so obvious!”

You sputter “I—what?! No, he doesn’t!”

Nami raises an eyebrow “Luffy literally told us Sabo planned to marry you.”

Your face burns “Luffy told me after we thought Sabo died, but that was years ago! We were kids!”

Brook chuckles “Love has a funny way of surviving, even through death.”

The words hit you harder than you expect.

Even through death.

For a moment, you say nothing. The memory of seeing his boat burn, of grief so deep it drowned you, flashes through your mind. The nights spent staring at the sea, whispering his name into the void. The years spent forcing yourself to move forward, never allowing yourself to dwell on what could have been.

But now, he’s here. Alive. And the feelings you buried long ago are clawing their way back to the surface.

“…I need some air.”

Without another word, you turn and leave.

You don’t realize Sabo follows you until you hear his voice.

“Running away from a challenge? That’s not like you.”

You sigh, not turning around “Not now, Sabo.”

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he steps closer, leaning against the railing beside you “Alright. Then let’s not talk about their bet.”

Silence stretches between you. The ocean glows under the moonlight, waves lapping softly against the Sunny’s hull.

Finally, you break the silence.

“I thought you were dead.”

Sabo stiffens. You don’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the horizon.

“For years,” you continue, voice steady but heavy, “I had to live with the idea that you were gone. That I would never see you again. And it hurt.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.

“Do you know what that kind of pain feels like?” you whisper “To lose someone without a body to bury? To stay up at night, wondering if maybe, just maybe, for some miracle, they survived, but knowing you're just to yourself about it?”

Sabo’s hands tighten into fists “…I do.”

That makes you finally look at him. His face is shadowed, but his expression is raw “I didn’t remember my past before the Revolutionaries,” he admits “Not until I saw what happened to Ace. And when the memories came back…” He swallows “I realised many things. I realised I couldn’t save Ace, that I couldn’t help you and Luffy… that I had left you behind.”

Your breath catches.

“I don’t have an excuse,” he says “But I know this... When I got my memories back I realised that I missed you like crazy, y/n. More than I can ever put into words.”

His voice shakes, and suddenly, the air between you feels different. He isn’t teasing, isn’t smirking... he’s serious.

You take a slow step forward “Then why didn’t you say anything? From the start, you acted like nothing happened.”

Sabo meets your gaze “Because I didn’t think I deserved to.”

Your heart clenches “That’s stupid.”

He laughs, but it’s soft, almost sad “Maybe.”

You exhale sharply “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“I hated you”

“I don’t blame you.”

You take another step “But I also...” You hesitate, then shake your head “Dammit, Sabo.”

He smiles faintly “That’s my name.”

And suddenly, you’re done. Done with the games, the teasing, the bets.

You grab his collar and yank him down, pressing your lips against his.

Sabo freezes.

For a moment, everything is still. Then, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and he’s kissing you back, desperate, relieved, alive.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his. “You’re mine now, rich boy” you murmur.

He grins “And you’re mine. I've dreamed about this since we were kids”

"Oh I know... I want that candy ring one day"

"OMG WHO TOLD YOU?!"

"Ace told Luffy and Luffy told me... but to his defense he just wanted to make me feel better"

A loud whoop makes you both jump.

You whip around to find the entire crew watching from the deck.

Luffy, grinning like an idiot, throws his fists in the air “I WIN THE BET?”

Sabo groans “Of course they were watching.”

You bury your face in your hands “I hate all of you.”

Koala winks “No, you don’t.”

Luffy bounces excitedly “Hey! Does this mean Sabo’s finally gonna marry you?”

“LUFFY YOU TOLD THEM! YOU CAN'T KEEP A SECRET”

The crew erupts into laughter, and as embarrassing as it is, you can’t help but smile.

Because for the first time in years, your heart doesn’t ache.

Sabo is here.

And this time, he’s not leaving.

[alastor-simp]

Demonic Savior - Demon Alastor x Human Female Reader

❥Summary- Who knew that the deer you helped was actually a demon?

❥Tags: Demon Alastor, Human Reader, Caution: Not For Minors, Trigger Warning, Abuse, Child Abuse, Abusive Parents, Deer Form Alastor, Curse Words, Angst + Comfort

❥Notes: Haven't wrote a story like this so I wanted to give it a try. I understand this story might be a bit traumatic for readers who went through something similar, so please skip it this story bothers you. This is 3K words, lets go

❥Credit: Divider from @cafekitsune

❥Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!! NOT FOR MINORS!!!!!!!!!

✪In The Forest✪

"Pant....pant....pant." Holding a hand to your chest, you attempted to calm down after running away from your so-called home. It was never home to you, more like hell, as you had to suffer through everything your parents inflicted on you. Your mom would never feed you, locking you in your room, and whenever you had the chance to leave your prison, your drunk dad would beat you mercilessly, shouting swears at you. It was just plain luck that the time you ran away from your father, the door was left unlocked, letting you escape out into the woods, "GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKING BRAT!!!" screeched from inside the house, as you sped away as fast as you could, limping slightly from the beatings. You took a rest behind a large tree, trying to catch your breath and also soothe your aching body as the more you tried to run, the worse the pain got. There was no sound of footsteps anywhere, letting you know that you were safe for now, but you knew that your father was searching for you, ready to beat you again for disobeying him. Wincing, you slowly got up from the ground, moving slowly to avoid stepping on any branches that would alert anyone nearby.

A few minutes went by and you slowly came across a small river. Oh finally, some fresh water. Getting on your knees, your hands scooped some water, bringing it to your mouth to drink. The river was able to reflect back at you, allowing you to see yourself. One of your eyes was swollen from being punched, cheeks sunken from being starved and your lip was bleeding. It was a surprised that your face still remained the same, even after all the beatings that were inflicted on you. "Rustle..Rustle." A soft sound was heard from a large bush, causing you to jump up in fright. You were waiting for the figure of your father, to come out, but nothing appeared. The sounds continued, earning your curiosity.

Moving closer to the sound, you peeked behind a bush and let out a gasp. A large deer appeared in front of you, its fur a dark crimson red and its antlers black as coal. It was on the ground, hoof caught in a bear trap. It noticed your presence, dark red eyes staring back at you, gazing into your soul. Moving slowly as not to startle it, you sat next to the deer, letting it know you were not a threat. Drawing your eyes to the trapped leg, you placed your hands on the jaws, "I'm gonna try to open this okay?" Using the strength you could muster, the jaws of the trap slowly inched open bit by bit, allowing the deer to pull it out. Once you saw that the deer had freed its foot, you push the trap slowly together, so it wouldn't snap on your hand, setting it on the ground once you had closed it. The deer's foot was bleeding heavily, having been punctured by the sharpness of the trap.

Moving away from the deer, you went back to the river and picked up some water with your hands, carrying it over back to the deer. The water helped removed some of the blood that was on the leg and would help reduce the chance of infection a bit. Grabbing your shirt, you ripped a piece of cloth off, using it as bandage for the cut, to prevent it from bleeding more. Having tied it on, you look at your work, making sure it was all set before setting the foot down. Looking back at the deer, you gave it a smile, "There you go, that should help with the bleeding. Just hope you are able to walk." The deer had remained surprisingly calm when you were helping it, which was quite strange, but you were just glad it didn't run away or else that wound would have gotten infected. The crimson deer, moved its legs, standing up to his full height, apparently able to move on the wounded hoof. It moved slowly, its head coming closer to yours, giving your face a sniff. Its tongue had come out and licked your lip, cleaning the blood that was dripping from it. "Haha I'll take that as a thank you." Giggling at the sensation, your hand raised and rubbed the deer's cheek, which made its ears twitch. "Never seen a red deer before. Quite beautiful."

The moment was ruined when you heard a loud yell, "Y/N!!! YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL KILL YOU!!!" Jumping at the scream, you realized your dad was close. Looking back at the deer, you motioned your hand for it to leave, not wanting your dad to catch it and possibly kill it, "Go now!! Run!" The deer didn't think twice and bolted away, disappearing into the bushes. Hearing more rustling from behind you, you turned seeing your father, face red from anger and the alcohol, as he was holding a beer bottle in his hand. "FOUND YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH!" He rushed towards you, the end of the bottle smashing against your head, causing it to break. "AHH!!", Grasping your head, there was a wet sensation appearing on your hand, making you pull back, seeing blood. A hand had grabbed your hair, body being lifted a bit off the ground, as you saw the hatred filled eyes of your father glaring down at you "YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN AWAY FROM ME?!? I'LL BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU, SO YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE AGAIN!!" He pulled, dragging your body back to the house, your hell. "N-No! Let go!!" Your cries were left unheard, as the rough grip form your fathers hand on your hair continued to yank, dragging you, body scraping against the grassy surface. As you were being pulled away, a pair of glowing eyes appeared from far out of the forest, before they vanished.

✪Next Day✪

Groaning in pain, your hands were motioning left and right in soapy liquid, washing the dishes. This was the continuation of your punishment for trying to escape. Your mom caught wind of your escape attempt and joined in on the beating with your father. When you woke up, body still on the cold floor, your mother came from the kitchen, pointing her finger and yelling at you to do the dishes, since it's your duty to do all the chores and not hers. The tormentors that were your parents, were lazying about on the couch, watching TV as you continued to watch the dishes. It hurt....it hurt so much you could barely stand. Tears were running down your face, drops landing into the soapy water. Using one of your soap covered hands, you tried to wipe the tears from your face, however doing that caused the glass in your other hand to drop to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. The sound alerted both of your parents, the both of them darting off the couch and into the kitchen, faces fueled with anger and malice. "YOU LITTLE SHIT! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! The roaring voice from your dad made you yelp in fear, raising your hands up for some sort of protection. "I-I dropped a glass! I-I'm sorry!" You prayed for mercy, hoping that they would only yell and degrade you. "You're sorry?" The cold tone from your mom, made you shiver, tears still running down your cheeks. "You don't look very sorry. Honey, I believe its time for some proper punishment." The evil smile on her face, made your stomach drop. No..No..NO..NO!!!

Your legs sprung to life, darting from the kitchen, trying to reach the hallway that led to your room. Your dad was quicker, his fist connecting with your face, causing you to fall to the floor, groaning from the pain. Your hands grabbed at your bruised cheek, crying loudly. Your dad stood above you, veins bursting from his face. His body got on top of yours, hands grasping your throat, squeezing. The air you were breathing was caught off, making you panic. You tried to push the hands from your neck, but his grip wouldn't budge, squeezing much tighter at your struggling. Your mouth couldn't utter a sound, faint gasping trying to get some air. Why? Why was this happening to you? Why must the two of these individuals, not even parents, monsters, must torment you so? Black spots popped in your vision, growing more and more weak, as the pressure on your throat continued. "Someone.....anyone.....please....h-help..me", your mind screamed, vision growing more and more hazy.

"Knock..knock..knock" Loud knocking came from the front door. Your dad locked eyes with it in confusion, turning his head to your mom, wondering who the hell it was. His hands had loosen slightly, allowing some air to enter through your mouth, but just barely. The knocking presumed, which got on your mom's nerve as you heard her curse, walking past the both of you to answer it. The ringing in your ears was making it impossible to hear what was going, but you heard the sound of the door slamming shut, and the sounds of footsteps approaching, your moms probably. A gush of wind was felt from behind, and through the ringing in your ears, you heard a voice, "I…….in..yo….daughter," it was broken, but it sounded like static?

✪Alastors POV✪

The door to this humble estate opened, revealing a small petite woman on the other side, wearing a scowl on her face. "Greetings, madam. Apologies for the sudden intrusion, but I acquire your daughter. Is the little darling here by chance?" Bowing a bit, I locked eyes with the miss, who seemed displeased at my arrival. "We aren't interested in what your trying to sell buddy. Take a hike-SLAM!" The door slammed in my face, hmph how rude. Molding into the shadows, my body manifested into the house, appearing in front of the supposed father-figure and the person who I was seeking, "I decided to let myself in, as I did say, I acquire your daughter." The poor darling was laying on the ground, face horribly bruised and neck laced with finger marks. Smile straining at the sight, my eyes locked onto the male on top of her. He soon stood up, walking towards me, attempting to be intimidating. How foolish.

"HEY! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE COMING INTO OUR HOUSE LIKE THAT?! BEAT IT ASSHOLE!!" The man screamed, whiffs of alcohol emanating from his breath. The mother had came around me, crossing her arms as she stood next to her husband, eyes cold, "I don't know how you got in here, but I prefer you leave now before I call the police." As if a measly man dressed in a suit with a gun and badge could harm me. Summoning my staff, I gave it a twirl, before placing it down on the ground. "Now now, all I want is your daughter, who is laying on the floor, next to you." The both of them, looked at each other before returning back to me with smirks. "You want this pathetic waste of space right here?" The man raised his leg, striking the lady with a kick, sending her flying, body hitting the side wall. Her body remained limp, but she was awake enough to let out a groan of pain, grip on my staff tightening. “I implore you not to do that again."

The so-called man wore a smirk, raising his foot again to strike, "Whatcha gonna do about-" He never finished his sentence as the shadows I called stopped his kick, before lifting him up in the air and throwing him down the hall like a ragdoll. "AHHHHHH!" He was able to let out one good scream before his head hit the wall, knocking him out. "I believe I recalled saying,nøŧ ŧø đø ŧħȺŧ ȺǥȺɨn." The air grew heavy, as the dark shadows flooded the walls and floors, glaring at both the mother and father. My antlers grew to massive lengths, and slits changing into radio dials, revealing my true demon form. The mother's face was shocked, collapsing onto the ground with tears in her eyes, "M-monster!" She cried out, as her body shivered with fear. "ĦȺĦȺ-ĦØØ, Mønsŧɇɍ? Ɏøᵾ Ⱥɍɇ sȺđłɏ mɨsŧȺꝁɇn, mɨss. Ɨ Ⱥm Ⱥ đɇmøn, Ŧħɇ ɌȺđɨø Đɇmøn." Bending down, I leaned closer, enjoying the fearful expression coming from the mother. It didn't take long before her eyes rolled back and she fainted from the fear, "Ħmm, ħøw đᵾłł. UsᵾȺłłɏ ŧħɇɏ sȼɍɇȺm fɨɍsŧ ƀɇføɍɇ ᵽȺssɨnǥ øᵾŧ." Returning my attention back to the one I seek, her body floated in the air with my powers, as she floated into my arms, carrying her bridal style. She weighed almost nothing, the poor thing, body lacking any source of fullness, bony from head to toe. She had awoken a bit, moving her head softly to look at me, pupils glazed, "H-h-help." The voice she let out was so soft, before her head collapsed, landing against my chest. Leaning closer, I nuzzled against her head softly, "Not to worry, my dear, I will offer my assistance." My eyes locked on to the two bodies on the ground, smile growing.

✪Your POV✪

"Mmmmm...ughhhhh." Letting out a groan, you opened your eyes slightly, vision blurry. Your neck felt very sore, moving your hand up slowly to rub at it. Something was wrapped around your body, making it hard for you to move. Vision clearing a bit, your eyes gazed up to see trees hovering above you, fireflies flying around. Huh? You blinked again, feeling like it was your imagination. The more you blinked, you realized this was real. Moving slowly with a groan, your head looked down to see that you were on a bed, wrapped in a soft blanket. It took you a minute to realize this wasn't your bed, the sheets looked expensive and the covers were crimson red. Your eyes darted out to ponder where you were. Half of the room was a forest, reminding you of the one near your house, but on the other half, it was attached to a regular room, walls decorated with stag heads, glowing fireplace with green flames, a tall bookcase and a desk where a big cathedral radio was. "This can't be real. I'm dreaming." Pinching your arm, you waited for this all to disappear, expecting the area around you to transform into your real bedroom. Nothing changed once you did that, realizing that this was reality, and you were in a two dimensional room, having no idea where in the hell you were.

The door to the room bursted open, and in came a man dressed to the nines in a red suit, holding a microphone stand. Bright crimson eyes locked onto yours, and his smile was stretched to the max on his face, "Ahh awake now, are we?". He took long strides to the bed you laid on, smiling down at you, as you continued to observe him. He was tall, which made him a bit intimidating, but your eyes scanned him all over trying to figure out who and what he was. "Who-what?" It felt almost impossible to talk, as you were still trying to piece together what was going on. The person in front of you, noticed your confusion, letting out a chuckle that was mixed with static. "Haha, I suspected you must be terribly dumbstruck about your current situation. First things first, I will introduce myself. My name is Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you again." He bowed, while he gripped one of your hands, placing a soft kiss on it, making you jump a bit. "Ummm...nice to meet you. Do you mind telling me where I am?" You noticed the little puffs of hair on his head move after you said that, wait are those ears? "Ah yes, We are currently in the fine establishment of the Hazbin Hotel, run by the Princess of Hell herself. The room we are in right now is my own private quarters." He leaned back to his full height, extending his hands out like he was giving a performance for a big show.

Did he just say Hell? How on god's green earth could you be in hell? Placing your hands on your neck, you rubbed at the sore sensation, as your memory flickered, trying to recall what happened. "Am I dead?" The man in front of you, leaned his head back, letting out a loud chortle, "HA! No! You are not dead, my dear. Just made a simple portal between the living world and Hell to bring you here." Okayyyyyyyyy, that answered your question a bit, but it was still mind-baffling that you were here, in Hell. Feeling a bit awkward that you didn't introduce yourself, you smiled softly a bit at him, "Sorry I'm Y/N. Nice to meet y......wait, you said again, have the both of us met before?" There was no way you have met him before, as you would remember a well-dressed deer man. The microphone stand he was holding disappeared, moving slowly to take a seat on the bed where you laid, lips turning into a tender smile, "Oh my, don't tell me you have forgotten? You treated the horrible wound that was afflicted on my leg by that horrible trap. I also must thank you for the compliment, not many have referred to me as beautiful before."

All the memories started flooding back, remembering the deer you had saved and treated, until your father dragged you away. "You were that deer?" Alastor's ears twitched in amusement, chuckling softly, "Correct, my dear. It is hard to come across good venison in hell, so I often times travel to the human world to hunt. My deer form draws less eyes towards me then this one," He announced, gesturing to himself, as he was explaining. "Is your wound okay?" You asked, concerned eyes gazing down to his foot. His eyes widen for a bit, not expecting you to ask him that, seeing as how stunned you before, you still had the courtesy to ask about his well-being, "It's perfectly alright now my deer, no need to stress. Your handiwork helped control a lot of the bleeding." His hand waved in the air, as the static crackled in his voice.

The pain on your neck was bothering you more, placing both hands on it to alleviate some of the pain. Flashbacks of your father began to play in your mind, recalling the hateful eyes from both him and your mother as he continued to strangle you to death. Sobbing, the tears began to flood your cheeks, alerting the demon next to you. "Oh no! There is no need to cry, my dear. You are safe from them now, they will never hurt you again. I made sure of it," His voice was soft, hands placing themselves on your cheeks, wiping away at the tears. His hands were warm, making you lean a bit into the touch. He made sure of it? What did he mean by that. Alastor was able decipher the question you wanted to ask him, just by reading your face, "I am known as the Radio Demon, most powerful overlord in all of hell. Those who have wrong me or provoked my rage will have their screams broadcasted all throughout hell. I slaughtered your parents in the living world, and found them in hell as sinners, granting them a second death by my hands. Their pitiful screams for mercy were just broadcasted a little while ago, thank Satan, you were still asleep." He said all of this like it was the most causal thing in the world, while your mouth opened wide like a fish.

"YOU KILLED THEM!?!" Finding the energy to move, you jumped out of the bed, standing a good feet away from the bed. Alastor tilted his head, confused at your reaction, "Well yes, Was that not what you wanted? To be saved?" He got you there, as you recalled wanting what was happening to you to stop, but not resulting in the death of your parents. "They were horrible people, but I didn't them to die. I just.....I wanted to leave and never go back, away from them forever." You wanted to roll into a ball, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling super overwhelmed over everything.

✪Alastors POV✪

Oh dear, this is only stressing out the poor darling more. My past sins have driven me numb to any form of guilt, but I have forgotten it's not the same for others. Removing myself from the bed, I stood in front of the little human, hooking their chin softly to gaze up at me. "If you feel responsible for what has happened to them, don't. They were going to kill you either way, even if you had left, they would have found a way to find you. They are the cause of their own undoing, not you." The tears still remained in her eyes, but she seemed slightly calmer now. "Why? Why did you save me?" She whimpered out, making my heart ache a bit. Chuckling to myself, my hands squished her cheeks, she was simply adorable. "Simply returning the favor, my dear. You helped me and I returned it in kind." Her eyes continued to gaze into mine, before they dropped to the ground. Suddenly, her arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into a hug.

The sudden act made me stiffen, being unfamiliar with acts like this. "Thank you....for saving me." The muffled voice against my chest made me relax, returning the hug back, with one hand on her waist, and the other petting her soft hair. I allowed this to go on for a few more minutes before pulling back, "Ahem, I believe its time to head to the lobby. I'm sure the residents will be delighted in meeting you." The little darling in front of me tilted her head, appearing confused, "Residents?" Her cute acts made me shake with laughter, as I poke her nose softly, "Yes! Residents! We are in a hotel after-all." With a wave of my hand, my microphone appeared, allowing me to twirl it with my fingers, before setting it down, I extended my arm out, waiting for her to take a hold, "Come along, darling! Best not to keep them waiting!" There was a bit of hesitation that flashed on her face for a second before it was replaced with a kind soft smile, as her arm hooked around mine. "Lovely! Now! Let us head on down!" The both of us strode over to the door, leaving my humble quarters, as we headed to lobby, where dear Charlie and the others resided, ready for them to meet our new addition to the hotel.

-END-

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

, @aconstructofamind @angiiiiiiiiie

@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,

@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina

@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,

@fckedupandbeautiful , @alaskathestereodemoness , @fries11 ,

@toneystank-3000. , @doll-babe-a-tron-queenthousand

, @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog , @twistedvanillacoffee

@morganodaidiot , @boldlyenchantingfox22 , @verona2314 ,

@angelmoonlight , @thatbadassauthor , @wantondoe ,

@doorknobhater ,

[duskidolsmut]

"Slutty friend fucks her friend's parents in front of her"

An innocent visit turns into a real slutty affair when the hot friend decides to let loose with the parents of the house. She gets sucked, fucked and moaned all over, with the daughter spying on everything and finishing herself off alone in the corner. A hot, limitless and horny night that will leave you wanting more of this naughty mess!

Tags: HornyFriend, FuckingBestie'sParents, SuckingFriend'sMom'sPussy, BigCockInAss, HornyVoyeur, FamilySlut, Mom'sWetPussy, MoaningLoudly, SpyingCumSquirting, ForbiddenSex

W: 4.470

Nayeon’s car smelled like lavender and something sweeter—maybe the cherry lip gloss Tzuyu had watched her reapply in the rearview mirror, all casual, like it was just a quick touch-up. The road to Nayeon’s family home was a winding stretch of curves, swallowed by a fog so thick it felt alive. Tzuyu stared out the window, hypnotized by the trees arching over them like a living ceiling, almost as if they were hiding what lay ahead.

“My parents are gonna love you,” Nayeon said, fingers drumming the steering wheel like she was nervous but trying to play it cool. Her smile was easy, the kind she always wore, but her voice trembled just enough for Tzuyu to notice. She glanced over, and—fuck—Nayeon looked good today. The pink dress she wore had a modest neckline, but when she leaned forward, the curve of her tits was right there. No wonder Tzuyu felt heat crawling up her skin. And those dimples when she laughed? Like an invitation to get lost in them.

“You talk about them so much, I already know what your dad’s gonna say,” Tzuyu shot back, pretending to adjust her skirt just to give her hands something to do. Her thighs rubbed together under the fabric, and shit, it was slick between them. “‘Tzuyu, ever thought about modeling?’” she teased, pitching her voice lower.

Nayeon laughed, the sound so warm it seemed to heat the whole car. “He will say that, bet on it,” she replied, her gaze slipping—fast but not accidental—down to Tzuyu’s long legs. It lingered for a second, all faux-innocence, before sliding back up. “But he’s not the one you need to impress, y’know?”

The silence that followed was thick, the kind that made the air feel heavy. Tzuyu bit her lower lip, feeling it pulse, and wondered if Nayeon would notice if she adjusted her panties—because seriously, the wetness there was screaming for attention. She clenched her thighs tighter, but it only made things worse.

Then the mansion’s gates loomed ahead, iron and imposing, cutting through the fog. Nayeon reached out to punch in the code, and Tzuyu—already on edge—held her breath without thinking. The movement hitched Nayeon’s dress higher, revealing a sliver of soft, pale thigh, the kind that begged to be touched. Or more. Tzuyu swallowed hard, eyes glued there, her whole body reacting.

“Ready?” Nayeon asked, killing the engine and turning to her with a look that said I know exactly what you’re thinking.

Tzuyu smirked, finally catching on to the game. “Always ready, babe,” she answered, her voice rougher than she’d meant, but she didn’t care. The car was a furnace now, and she knew whatever came next would be fucking intense.

The engine gave a final growl as Nayeon swung the door open, night air hitting her face like a slap. Tzuyu followed, stretching her legs like she knew Nayeon was watching—and fuck, she was. Nayeon’s pink dress swayed in the breeze as she grabbed their bags from the back seat, and Tzuyu leaned against the car, eyeing the mansion with a look that screamed trouble.

“Let’s go before my mom scolds me for making you wait,” Nayeon said, trying for casual, but the way she tucked her hair behind her ear gave her away. Tzuyu flashed a sidelong grin—I know what you’re feeling—and followed her inside.

The mood shifted the second they stepped in. The foyer was massive, smelling of old wood and something richer, like the expensive perfume Nayeon’s mother wore. Her father stood at the foot of the stairs, watching them with a this-is-my-domain stare. “You made it,” he said, voice gravel-deep. “Tzuyu, right? Nayeon won’t shut up about you.”

“Hope it’s all good things,” Tzuyu replied, oozing charm as she shrugged off her coat, baring her neck and shoulders. Nayeon’s mouth went dry, but before she could speak, her mother appeared, wineglass in hand.

“Good girl, Nayeon. You brought her right to us,” she purred, dark eyes raking over Tzuyu like she was sizing up prey. “Come, darling. Let me show you around.” Her fingers brushed Tzuyu’s arm, guiding her deeper inside, and Nayeon stayed rooted, heart pounding for reasons she couldn’t name.

The afternoon bled into evening with small talk and glances nobody acknowledged. Tzuyu was too at ease—laughing at Nayeon’s dad’s jokes, answering her mom’s questions with a calm that felt calculated. Nayeon, though? She was a wreck. Every time Tzuyu shifted on the couch, “accidentally” brushing her arm or stretching her legs to flash more skin, heat prickled up Nayeon’s spine. And her parents? They kept exchanging looks she couldn’t decipher, like they already knew what was coming.

When dinner was announced, Nayeon almost thanked the gods for something to do with her hands. She led Tzuyu to the dining room, trying to ignore the way her friend’s hips swayed—just enough to prove she knew she was being watched.

The dining room was too grand for four people, its crystal chandeliers casting dancing light over the militarily precise table setting. Red wine glowed in the glasses like blood, and Tzuyu noticed how Nayeon’s fingers trembled slightly as she lifted hers. She sat close—too close—letting her knee graze Nayeon’s under the table. Just testing.

“So, Tzuyu,” Nayeon’s father leaned forward, his forearm muscles straining against his white shirt as he gripped his fork. “Nayeon says you dance. Ballet, right?”

“Contemporary, actually,” Tzuyu answered, smirking, as the tip of her foot slid up Nayeon’s calf—slow, featherlight, and absolutely deliberate. Nayeon choked on her wine, liquid nearly shooting out her nose, while her mother giggled behind her glass like she’d caught them in something filthy.

“It must be beautiful,” her mother purred, dark eyes glued to Tzuyu, “watching you move. All that… fluidity.” Her voice dripped something that made Nayeon’s skin prickle.

Nayeon clenched her thighs under the table, heart hammering. Tzuyu was doing this on purpose, the bitch—she knew exactly what she was causing. That foot climbing higher, the way she tilted her head back now, baring her throat like an offering—it was all a performance. And Nayeon was playing right into it.

“Want to see?” Tzuyu asked, glancing at Nayeon’s mother but locking eyes with Nayeon in a silent I know you do. Her voice was low, almost a purr, and the air in the room thickened instantly.

Nayeon’s father laughed, a deep sound that cut through the silence as he sliced into his steak. “We all do, Tzuyu,” he said, winking at his wife. “Show us how you move.”

“Yes, show us,” her mother added, tongue flicking the corner of her lip, gaze never leaving Tzuyu. “I bet it’s breathtaking.”

Tzuyu rose from her chair, slow, like she had all the time in the world. Her skirt rode up another inch, revealing those toned, milky thighs, and Nayeon couldn’t look away even if she tried. “Fine,” Tzuyu said, turning just enough to silhouette herself against the chandelier’s glow. “But only if Nayeon helps me warm up first.”

Nayeon nearly dropped her glass, face burning. “I—what?” she stammered, as her dad barked a laugh and her mom clapped lightly, loving the show.

“Go on, sweetheart,” her father said, cutting another piece of meat. “Show us how well you two… sync.”

Tzuyu held out her hand—long fingers, a silent command. “Come on, Unnie. I don’t bite… unless you ask.”

Nayeon froze, heart in her throat, heat pooling between her legs. She was fucked—and worse, she wanted to be.

Her eyes dropped to Tzuyu’s outstretched hand, those fingers pulling her in like a magnet. “You’re serious?” she whispered, voice shaky, forcing a laugh to hide the tremor.

— Of course, Unnie — Tzuyu replied with that smug little smile that made Nayeon want to punch her and kiss her at the same time. — Didn’t you say you wanted to watch me dance? Then come here. Help me warm up. She winked, tilting her head just enough for her skirt to ride up another inch—just to fuck with Nayeon’s head for good.

Nayeon’s father chuckled again, that deep laugh that filled the room. — Go on, baby girl. Don’t leave us hanging, he said, wiping his mouth with the napkin before tossing it onto the table. — Show us how you two handle each other.

Her mother clapped eagerly, eyes glinting with mischief and lust. — That’s right, Nayeon. Don’t be shy now, she purred, leaning forward in her chair. — Tzuyu’s practically begging for it. You just gonna sit there and stare?

Nayeon swallowed hard, her face burning. She rose slowly, legs shaky, and took Tzuyu’s hand. The touch was electric—Tzuyu’s palm warm and soft, her fingers locking around Nayeon’s with a grip that stole her breath. — Fine. But if I trip, it’s your fault, she muttered, trying to sound playful but it came out closer to a moan.

Tzuyu laughed low, pulling her closer. — Relax. I’ve got you, she said, then turned toward the center of the room, dragging Nayeon with her. — Now tell me how you want me to start. She released Nayeon’s hand and stepped back, raising her arms slow and deliberate, like she was about to dance. The movement hiked her skirt up even higher, nearly exposing her panties, and Nayeon bit her lip to stifle a whimper.

— Fuck, Tzuyu. You’re gonna give me a heart attack, Nayeon blurted, half-laughing, half-desperate, as her parents watched with gleeful grins.

— Then lean into it, baby, her father drawled, sipping his wine. — We wanna see how far this goes.

Her mother stood, slinking behind Tzuyu. — She’s right, you know, she murmured, voice sweet but laced with something that sent shivers down Nayeon’s spine. — You move too damn well to just tease. Her hand trailed down Tzuyu’s shoulder to her arm, and Nayeon felt a stab of jealousy mixed with something she refused to name.

Tzuyu turned to Nayeon’s mother, eyes gleaming. — Then tell me how you want it done, she challenged, before flicking her gaze back to Nayeon like a dare.

Nayeon’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her father laughed again, slapping the table. — This is getting too good, he said. — But I think our Nayeon needs a little push, huh, sweetheart? He glanced at his wife, who smirked in agreement.

— Maybe she just needs a front-row seat, her mother replied, yanking Tzuyu against her in one swift motion. — Let’s show her how it’s done, Tzuyu.

Dinner dissolved into chaos—laughter, taunts, and a tension so thick it left everyone on edge. But as the night wore on, the mood shifted. Nayeon was exhausted, her body heavy with unmet need, and her parents noticed.

The house fell silent past midnight, only the antique clock in the living room ticking through the dark halls. Nayeon had been sent to bed early—a rare command from her mother, delivered with a smile that brooked no argument. — You look tired, darling. Go rest, she’d said, stroking Nayeon’s hair in a way that felt affectionate but hid something darker. Nayeon climbed the stairs without protest, her skin still buzzing from the dining-room spectacle, but with an uneasy weight in her chest.

Tzuyu, though? She stayed behind. She pretended not to notice how Nayeon’s father’s eyes clung to her as she stood, or how her mother dragged her fingers over her own cleavage, adjusting her dress in a way that bordered on obscene, before offering: — Another drink, Tzuyu? Her voice was honey, but her eyes were ravenous.

— I think so, Tzuyu answered, flashing a casual smile as she stretched in her chair, baring her neck. She turned to say goodnight, but then she saw their expressions—predatory, synchronized, like two wolves circling prey. Her father tilted his head slightly; her mother’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, quick as a snake’s strike.

Tzuyu smiled at them—a slow, deliberate smile. “Goodnight, Nayeon,” she called out, loud enough to carry upstairs, but her eyes never left the couple.

Nayeon lay sprawled across the bed, her body heavy as if she’d run a marathon, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. Her room sat at the end of the hall, too quiet for such a big house, and the ticking clock downstairs throbbed in time with her pulse. She’d retreated early on her mother’s orders—that “Go rest, sweetheart” with a smile that made her skin crawl—but rest was the last thing on her mind. Dinner replayed behind her eyelids: Tzuyu teasing her under the table, her parents laughing like they knew a secret, and that thick, suffocating tension that left her body feverish and her thoughts scrambled.

She twisted in bed, sheets tangling between her thighs, and squeezed her eyes shut. No use. The heat between her legs only grew, and every time she blinked, she saw Tzuyu—that wicked little smirk, the tease of thighs beneath her skirt, the way she arched her neck like she knew Nayeon was watching. “Fuck, I’m so screwed,” she groaned, dragging her hands down her face—until a sound cut through the dark. A muffled noise from the hallway. A moan? Maybe just the wind. Or maybe not.

She sat up, heart hammering. The clock read nearly 1 AM, and the house was too still, too quiet. Barefoot, she crept to the door, her thin pajamas whispering against her skin as she eased it open—just a crack. The sound grew clearer: low murmurs, tangled voices, spilling from her parents’ room. “What the hell?” But her feet moved on their own, carrying her down the hall like her body knew something her mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

The hallway was pitch-black, save for a thin strip of light under her parents’ door. She froze a few steps away, the floor icy under her toes, and heard it again—a filthy, wet moan, followed by a husky laugh she recognized as her mother’s. Her pulse spiked, curiosity and dread coiled in her gut. Trembling, she edged closer, her hand hovering near the half-open door—then peered inside.

The air left her lungs in a rush.

Tzuyu was there, perched on the edge of her parents’ bed, skirt rucked up around her hips, blouse discarded on the floor. Her tits swayed, heavy and bare, as Nayeon’s father knelt between her spread thighs, his broad hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. His face was buried in her cunt, eating her out like a man starved, lips and tongue working in obscene, sucking strokes. Above them, Nayeon’s mother straddled Tzuyu’s lap, her red robe gaping open, tits spilling free as she fisted Tzuyu’s hair and bit down on her throat, leaving dark marks in her wake.

“Holy fuck—” Nayeon’s knees buckled. She wanted to scream, to rip Tzuyu away, but her body wouldn’t obey. The wet slap of her father’s tongue, Tzuyu’s ragged moans, her mother’s low, throaty laughter—it all wrecked her. Heat flooded her veins, and she clamped her thighs together, soaking through her panties as she watched.

HOW IT STARTED…

Tzuyu knew she’d had control the second she stepped into that house. Dinner was just the warm-up—the hungry stares from Nayeon’s parents, the way Nayeon flushed every time Tzuyu teased her, the thick tension you could slice with a knife. When Nayeon’s mother sent her to bed early, Tzuyu already knew what was coming.

She stayed downstairs, pretending not to notice Nayeon’s father drinking her in as he stood up from the table, or her mother adjusting her cleavage like a goddamn invitation. “Another drink?” the mother offered, and Tzuyu said yes, just to see how far they’d go.

Their gazes were pure lust, perfectly ("synced up like fucking clockwork") in sync, and Tzuyu felt her blood pump faster. She climbed to their bedroom after midnight, her body already warm with anticipation. The slightly open door was all the confirmation she needed. She stepped inside slowly, their eyes burning into her as the door clicked shut behind her.

“So you came,” the mother said, toying with the silk robe’s tie. It slipped loose, baring most of her chest. Tzuyu licked her lips, her gaze dragging shamelessly down the woman’s body.

“Knew you weren’t just a pretty face,” the father growled, shirtless now, his chest glistening with sweat. He stepped closer, his heat hitting her like a wave.

“Will Nayeon hear?” Tzuyu asked, baiting them with a smile that said she didn’t give a fuck, as she peeled off her top slowly. Her breasts swayed slightly before she tossed the fabric to the floor.

They laughed, low and dirty. “She always listens,” the mother replied, yanking Tzuyu’s wrist toward the bed. “And tonight, we want her to hear everything.”

Tzuyu landed on the mattress, legs slightly parted, skirt riding up as she stared them down. The father moved closer, his pants already half-open, while the mother climbed onto her, thick thighs grinding against Tzuyu’s as the robe fell away completely—full breasts, smooth stomach, her ("pussy already glistening") under the dim lamplight.

“You’re a filthy little slut, aren’t you?” the mother whispered, fisting Tzuyu’s hair and yanking her head back to expose her throat. Before Tzuyu could answer, the woman licked a stripe up her neck, ending with teeth scraping skin. Tzuyu moaned low and rough, wetness pooling between her legs.

“Let’s see how much you can take,” the father grunted, dropping to his knees. He gripped Tzuyu’s thighs, forcing them wider, his big hands leaving marks as he shoved her skirt up. “Fuck, you’re already dripping,” he laughed before burying his face between her legs. His tongue went straight for her clit, sucking with pressure that made Tzuyu arch off the bed.

“Oh fuck, yes!” Tzuyu gasped, clawing the sheets as he ate her out like he wanted to devour her. Two fingers slid into her without warning, stretching her as he sucked harder, wet sounds filling the room. Her body trembled, pleasure coiling tight, but she wouldn’t break that easily.

The mother laughed, crawling up to face her. “You like his tongue, huh?” She palmed Tzuyu’s breasts, pinching her nipples until another moan escaped. “These tits are delicious,” she murmured before taking one into her mouth, swirling her tongue before biting just to make Tzuyu squirm.

“You’re both fucking monsters,” Tzuyu groaned, laughing as the father crooked his fingers, hitting that spot that made her see stars. She was soaked now, the sound of his fingers fucking her downright sinful, and the mother responded by sucking her other nipple harder, leaving red marks.

“And you love it, you whore,” the father shot back, pulling his fingers out just to lick them clean before diving back in, his beard scratching her thighs as his tongue plunged deeper.

Tzuyu was close, her body pliant, but then—instinct. She glanced at the cracked door and saw Nayeon there, wide-eyed and flushed. Tzuyu’s arousal spiked. Knowing Nayeon was watching, she threw her head back with a loud, filthy moan. “Eat me out harder—make me come on your face,” she demanded, hips grinding against the father’s mouth, her eyes locked on Nayeon the whole time.

The mother noticed and laughed against her chest. “You see her, Tzuyu?” she whispered, biting her nipple hard before lifting her head. “She can’t handle it, but she won’t leave. Let’s give her a show.” Her hand slid down to Tzuyu’s clit, rubbing in circles as the father kept licking, working together to unravel her.

The father lifted his head, chin glistening. “Fuck, she’s soaked,” he muttered before fingering her again, spreading her open as the mother laughed against Tzuyu’s skin. But then the mother shifted the game. She released Tzuyu’s hair and sat up, eyes dark with mischief.

“You’ve got such perfect tits, Tzuyu. So fucking fun to play with,” she rasped, guiding Tzuyu’s hands to her own full breasts. Tzuyu moaned loudly, the sound echoing, and Nayeon shivered. Tzuyu kneaded the mother’s soft flesh, pulling her nipples until they pebbled.

“God, these are amazing,” Tzuyu murmured, eyes half-lidded. Nayeon swallowed hard, her pajamas sticking to sweaty skin as she watched Tzuyu grope her mother like it was nothing.

— "Why don’t you suck them till they’re nice and hard?"

Her mother moaned, tossing her head back and thrusting her tits forward. Tzuyu didn’t hesitate. She leaned in slowly, her mouth capturing a nipple with a wet pop, sucking firmly as her tongue swirled in tight circles. She moaned around the stiff peak, the sound vibrating against it, then switched to the other, sucking harder, her teeth grazing lightly. Her ass—round and pert—stayed arched on the bed, and her father took full advantage, landing a sharp slap that made her skin flush red.

Nayeon nearly let a whimper escape. "What the fuck is happening?" Her face burned. She wanted to turn away, to bolt to her room and forget everything, but her eyes were glued to Tzuyu—to her mouth working their mother’s tits, to her marked ass swaying from the slap, to the way she seemed to relish every second. The heat between Nayeon’s legs was unbearable now; she clenched her thighs, feeling slickness trickle down.

— "That’s it, you filthy slut. Suck me just like that,"

Their mother groaned, fingers tangled in Tzuyu’s hair before yanking her lower, guiding her head between her spread thighs. — "Now eat me out. Come on." Tzuyu dove in without hesitation, her tongue lapping slow, then devouring, the wet sounds filling the room as she worked.

— "Christ, you know how to fuck a pussy with that mouth,"

Their mother panted, hips grinding against Tzuyu’s face. — "Bet you’ve done this before—bet you fucking love it."

Tzuyu pulled back just enough to smirk, chin glistening. — "I lived for this—for making girls scream all night, for getting eaten out for hours," she rasped, voice raw with lust. — "But my partners? They never wanted to fuck me right. God, I’ve missed it. Seeing girls at the gym, in the showers—dripping but holding back… Fuck, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me now." Her tongue plunged back in, fingers digging into their mother’s thighs.

Nayeon’s knees almost gave out. Tzuyu’s words hit her like a punch—imagining her in the locker room, thighs slick with sweat, staring hungrily at the other girls… — "Fuck, Tzuyu—" Her hand slipped between her own legs, rubbing her pajamas against her throbbing cunt. She hated herself for it, but the heat was winning.

— "This bitch is a dream,"

Their father laughed, gripping Tzuyu’s ass and spreading her wide. — "See, Nayeon? She was made for this." He shouted it toward the door, knowing she was there. Tzuyu just locked eyes with Nayeon, moaned loud—an invitation—as she rocked back against their father’s cock, already nudging her entrance.

Nayeon bit back a whimper, fingers pressing harder, soaking her pajamas. She was drowning in the urge to step into that room and ruin herself.

— "You like the show, baby girl?"

Their father taunted, still buried inside Tzuyu. Their mother laughed, lips glistening as she came up for air. — "She’s falling apart out there."

— "Join us, Nabong,"

Tzuyu gasped, hips writhing between their mouths and hands.

Nayeon broke. Fingers shoved inside her own panties, she came against the doorframe, muffling a scream into her wrist. She hated how much she wanted to say yes.

Tzuyu’s mom went down on her clit like her life depended on it, tongue swirling fast before sucking hard, her slick lips glistening under the lamp. “Yeah, you filthy slut, cum in my mouth again!” she moaned, fingering herself as she ate Tzuyu out, her groans muffled against Tzuyu’s skin. Tzuyu screamed louder, body shaking. “OH FUCK, I’M CUMMING AGAIN!” she howled, hips jerking as she squirted all over her mom’s face, hot juice dripping down her neck.

Her dad never let up, pounding her even faster, his balls slapping hard as he gripped Tzuyu’s ass with both hands. “Goddamn, this pussy’s addictive,” he growled, pulling his cock out just to rub the head against her asshole, testing the waters. Tzuyu whimpered, arching her back higher. “Fuck my ass, c’mon, I can take it!” she taunted, laughing between moans. He didn’t hesitate—spat in his palm, slicked his dick and her tight hole, then pushed in slow, her ass stretching to swallow him inch by inch.

Nayeon almost fucking collapsed, eyes wide. “In her ass? Seriously?” Her heart raced as she watched Tzuyu writhe and scream, her dad’s cock burying deep in her ass. “Holy shit, Tzuyu, you’re insane,” Nayeon breathed, fingers rubbing her own pussy frantically. A shiver shot up her spine, body burning up, and a moan tore loose—loud enough to echo down the hall. “I’m cumming just watching this,” she admitted, clutching the doorframe as her legs gave out.

“See, baby? She can handle anything!” her dad grunted, laughing as he rammed Tzuyu’s ass, the slap of skin filling the room. Her mom lifted her dripping face, licked her lips, then climbed onto the bed and sat on Tzuyu’s mouth. “Eat me out while he fucks you, you whore,” she ordered, grinding her soaked pussy against Tzuyu’s tongue. Tzuyu moaned into her, lapping hungrily as her hips rocked with every thrust.

“Fuck, you two are perfect,” Tzuyu managed between licks, voice muffled as she sucked her mom’s clit and took it up the ass. She glanced at the door, locked eyes with Nayeon, and flashed a dirty grin, mouth shiny with her mom’s cum. “Join us, Unnie—I know you wanna,” she purred, moaning louder as her dad sped up, balls-deep in her ass.

Nayeon was fucking wrecked. Another moan escaped—too loud to choke back—and she felt a second orgasm cresting, fingers slipping in her soaked cunt. “Jesus, Tzuyu, you’re killing me,” she whimpered, body convulsing against the door. Tzuyu’s mom cackled, riding Tzuyu’s face as she came again, hips stuttering. “She won’t join, but she’s getting off alone out there,” she mocked, gaze locked on Nayeon.

Tzuyu’s dad yanked his cock from her ass, her hole clenching around nothing as he jerked himself fast, balls tight and ready. “Open wide, slut,” he ordered. Tzuyu turned, tongue out, as her mom fisted her hair. He came with a guttural roar, thick cum blasting across her face, dripping onto her tits as she licked up what she could, giggling between gasps.

Nayeon collapsed to her knees in the hall, weak-limbed after cumming again, eyes glued to the scene—Tzuyu dripping, her parents grinning like they’d hit the jackpot. “I can’t believe I fucking watched that,” she muttered, voice thin, but heat still throbbing as Tzuyu wiped cum off her cheek and shot her a look that promised more.

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 3-

pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - before jenna ortega became a huge actress and held the world in her hand, she only had you

warnings - drunk teens(all 18), party w/ alcohol, smut(again, all 18)

an - forgot i had the next few chapters sitting in my docs >:)

————————

Usually when you hear the name Jenna Ortega, you would get all jittery and your eyes would light up like a christmas tree. But ever since she ditched you to go fuck around with Houston Moores , all you feel is pure disgust.

You and Theo had just arrived at the party, parking outside to see at least fifty drunk teens hanging around. You stepped out of the car, stretching your arms as you walked towards the house. Theo trailed after you, already reading a model-man magazine full of shirtless guys he found irresistible. You squeezed through a few sweaty guys in leather jackets before reaching the front door. You gently knocked, and opened it to reveal the house full of more drunk people.

"Did you seriously knock on the door?" A girl asked, leaning on the wall.

You blushed in embarrassment and ducked your head down, shaking it. The girl laughed and shoved your shoulder playfully.

"I'm only messing around, please come in." The girl said, pulling you inside.

Theo followed you, the two of you standing to look at the sigh in front of them. The room was full of teenagers from your school, some passed out drunk, most dancing and talking, and some just making out. You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, looking around the room with a slight frown on your face.

The girl noticed, and threw her arm over your shoulders, leading you to a table full of cups and containers with mysterious liquids.

"I know it probably looks terrifying but if you came here, you're probably looking to loosen up, just relax." She said, holding out a red solo cup full of a cherry drink, “I’m Allie by the way.”

“Y/N.” You said, taking the drink from her.

You brought the cup to your lips, tilting your head back to cause the liquid to seep down your throat. It burned, causing you to cough and sputter.

“You’re Y/N?” Allie asked, giving you a look of pure surprise, “No wonder Jenna always yaks on about you.”

She bit her lip, letting her eyes trail down your body. You felt a little uncomfortable with her checking you out, but the sound of Theo gagging on a drink stole both of your attention.

“This shit tastes like ass!” He cried, pouting at the cup.

You scrunched up your face at him when he took another sip, watching him swirl the liquid in his mouth before swallowing. He coughed slightly and stuck his tongue out at the drink, unimpressed. You were about to reply, when you heard a female voice ring out.

"Get off!"

"You've had enough today."

"Screw you!"

You spun around, hearing the familiar voice of the girl you knew so well. There she was, Jenna Ortega, drunk and arguing with Houston Moores.

"Jenna I'm serious, it's enough." He snarled, trying to take the cup out of her hand.

"No I'm serious!" She retorted, her words slurred.

You watched from afar, a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach. You wanted to run, to lunge forward and separate Jenna from Houston, but your feet were rooted to the floor as you watched the scene unfold.

"Put it down." Houston commanded, his voice harsh, “I won’t ask again.”

Jenna scoffed, "No!"

"Jenna, don’t make me-.”

Before you knew what was happening, the cup full of fruit punch vodka flew onto Jenna’s white dress, covering it in a sticky red. The whole party had gone silent, pardoning the faint music and yelling from outside. You watched as Jenna slowly looked up at Houston before running off to the bathroom, him following close behind.

"Those two will never get along." A guy said to the door girl as he rummaged through the fridge.

"I know, they should stop messing around." The girl replied, playing with her hair.

"Agreed, Houston needs a girl that is better than him to shut him up, and Jenna needs someone to just dick her down." He said, making the girl laugh.

"I actually think she just needs someone to love her."

The words were out of your mouth before you could have stopped yourself. The two party goers by the fridge slowly turned and looked at you with an inquiry that made your breathing get caught in your throat.

"I-I mean uh, like a-" You stuttered on your words.

"Relax Y/L/N, everyone knows you have a thing for girls." The girl said, giving you a gentle smile.

You returned the smile, but was sent stumbling backwards as a very angry Houston stormed past you. He kicked the front door open, stepped outside but paused to turn around, glaring at you.

"I advise talking to her, she prefers you anyways." He spat before shutting the door and walking away.

You stared at the door for a second until Theo smacked the back of your head aggressively. You turned to look at him, squinting when he was smiling.

"Don't look at me like that, go get your gir!" He shouted, pushing you towards the bathroom.

You scowled at him but walked to where Jenna was, your heart beating a mile a minute with every step you took. You were about to push the door when it was opened for you, Jenna standing there looking up at you with watery eyes.

"Oh, Y/N. I didn't realize you were here." She mumbled, tearing her gaze away from you.

“Well here I am.” You responded, nervously playing with your hands, “I saw what happened with um…Houston.”

Jenna hummed, rocking back and forth on her heels. You glanced around, before reaching down to intertwine your fingers and tugging her to follow you outside.

Never would you find yourself sitting next to a beautiful girl who was covered in fruit punch and crying on your shoulder, yet here you were. You weren’t the best at comforting people, but you still placed you arm around Jenna’s shoulders when you both sat down, which caused the latter to lean into you.

"I'm sorry." Jenna whispered, hugging herself with her arms.

"For what?" You questioned, turning your head to her.

Jenna sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve as she stared at the ground. You noticed that the moonlight fell perfectly on her face, making her features glow every so slightly like a dull blue lightbulb. You blushed, tearing your eyes away to choose to look at the stars instead.

"For canceling on you, constantly. I’ve been busy with work and I just felt overwhelmed." She said, swaying her feet back and forth.

“It’s okay, I knew it had to have been something important like that.” You said, resting your cheek atop Jenna’s head.

She giggled, causing you to smile. The few times that you would hang out, you would always try to get Jenna to laugh, which was quite easy as she really only laughed at your humor. Her laugh was one of the most warm yet so refreshing sounds ever, and you always tried your hardest to get some sort of chuckled out of her.

It was quite peaceful where the two of you were sitting, your legs hanging over the porches edge. Jenna was tucked into your side as she leaned her head calmly on the your shoulder. You on the other hand, well you were a mess. Your feelings were running a muck, and you definitely felt like you were sweating through your costume while your heart was leaping inside of you.

"Y/N..."

You turned to her, just to find a pair of beautiful brown eyes looking at you. You froze up, and you could have sworn you saw love in her gaze.

"Yea?"

To this day, you never knew if it was the alcohol or if it was an impulse, but the way Jenna Ortega’s lips felt never left your brain. They were soft and warm, tasting faintly of fruit punch and bubblegum and just oh so delicious.

You weren’t sure if it was because she was drunk, or if it was the taste of weed in the air, but how you ended up upstairs naked with her never set correctly in your mind.

Her body was a piece of art, sculpted to perfection by a god. Her skin was beautiful, tanned and covered in even more freckles when you had her under you, and you made sure to kiss each one as you made your way down her torso. The curve and shape of her hips were gorgeous, easily holdable and squeezable when your face dipped in between her soft thighs.

She had called your name, a beautiful hymn that sliced through the silence of the night air. Her hands threaded in your hair, tugging and pulling while you drank in her essence. Your tongue had dragged through her, pulling delicious and addictive sounds out of her lips that compelled you to go back for another round each time she came to.

When you were finally through with her, she pushed your head back, pulling you up to hold her and keep her close. You had pressed small kisses to her head, whispering and mumbling about how gorgeous she was and what a wonderful job she did. Jenna fell asleep in your arms, and you followed soon after, dreams of her filling your brain.

———————

hiya!

[megapteraurelia]

TWO-WAY STREET. — part 2.

🫧 SUMMARY; — how is suna rintarou ever going to get over you? or: having a hard time not thinking of begging you on his knees to give him a second chance.

🫧 WARNINGS; — graphic smut; angst; fem!reader; pathetic!suna/sweet talker!suna and fem!receiving oral; mentions of weed and alcohol; second chances (except they're still stupid)

🫧 WORD COUNT; — 3122.

🫧 AUTHOR'S NOTE; — how to angst...? ( part 3 in the works!)

please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

pt. 1 | pt. 2

“if this keeps up, yer gon’ be labeled a stalker.”

atsumu held the bills between his fingers, and suna snatched it, stuffing the money into his back pocket and the rest of the mary jane in the side pocket of his jacket, “how about minding your own business once in a while?”

“nah,” atsumu grinned, “where’s the fun in that?”

his fingers were quick in rolling the joint, crumbling the buds into a neat line before closing the paper with a swipe of his tongue. when he searched his jeans pockets for a lighter, suna’s eyes found your presence amidst the many people at the party, fitted between dancing, sweating bodies. 

the party he hadn’t wanted to stay at once he finished up his deals, but that he couldn’t help but prolong his visit more once his sweeping gaze over the masses found the light you were radiating.

so there he stood, in the shadowed corner of the room with his shady business, several couches and tables between you both, basking in your light even though he knew you didn’t like him to. he knew, he knew, and yet he stood there while the fake blonde next to him clicked his thumb against the lighter, watching you dance.

his hoodie and the jacket thrown on top of it felt heavy and too hot on his shoulders, but he didn’t bother shrugging any of it off.

because he hadn't planned to stay.

“so — “ atsumu dragged a deep breath, and that shit stank up this pathetic little corner suna rintarou was standing in, “ — what do ya say, i try my luck with’er?”

suna froze, but said nothing. maybe if he pretended that the music thrumming through the air was too loud, then he could ignore atsumu and his cocky exclamation of stupidity. 

but as blonde as atsumu was, he wasn’t as gullible.

an arm draped over suna’s shoulder, he leaned in, and smoke curled up into the air, the scent as penetrating as ever, “oi, come on, rinnie, what’s with yer stoic attitude, huh? you can hav’er right after, hn? jus’ wanna see what the fuss is all about. so, how abou—”

suna rintarou did not fight. he really didn’t. he wasn’t the type to, and punches hurt his knuckles.

if anything, he was more the underhanded type to deal with things, maybe a bit of blackmail if they wouldn’t let up, but fighting? smashing any of his body parts into somebody else for violent reasons? not really his style.

but atsumu asked for it. 

so leaving behind a doubled over blonde whose joint had fallen down from his open mouth onto the wooden floor, suna had to get out. it was hot, it was stuffy, it was so fucking unbearably close to where you were, with annoyance pumping through him at every turn because fuck— not even sending him a glance or leave any crumbs of recognition that you had seen him, that you had felt his presence in the same way that he did when he stepped into the goddamn house.

the air outside was fresh, cooling the sting on his knuckles, and he grit his teeth when he bent at the knee, sinking, leaned against a tree in the backyard of the house. the knuckle of his uninjured hand rapped against the space between his eyebrows, trying to pound back some sense back into his head. 

he should leave, ignore that atsumu would get up from the ground and would pursue you out of spite, and just go home. he may had been joking but the venomous way those words left his mouth, painting you like an usable toy, when suna couldn’t even fucking help but let you slip through his fingers, when all he wanted was to lose himself in you, keep a grasp on your essence, selfishly own all that you had to offer.

“rin?”

his head snapped up so fast, he felt his neck protest, but that didn’t matter, because—

fuck. 

the way you were rubbing your arms at the cool air, the hesitant look on your face when he had gotten so used to the look of disdain you used to send his way the past weeks, the absolute wreck that was your hair from running your hands through them while dancing. 

you were breathtaking. 

“what happened with miya?”

“nothing.”

you didn’t believe him, but that was because you knew him. you knew the way his face settled in the slightly bored expression when nothing was going on, the way his shoulders would relax because there was nothing to be tense about, the way he would roll his eyes, the sharp lines of his features laid-back.

suna rintarou looked up at you from where he was seated on the ground, and his face painted a clear picture for you. the tension in his jaw, the deep set of displeasure as his lips pressed into a thin line, the twitch of his ears whenever he lied, the red on his knuckles — he was pissed.

“it’s not nothing.”

what did you want to hear? that he couldn’t bear to hear somebody talk that way about you? as if you were dismissable? at the insult hurled your way and his? 

that he had no right to feel any way about you anymore, not when he fucked up and lost you?

you leaned forward, and a couple of strands of your hair slipped from your naked shoulder, littered in goosebumps. god, he wanted to exist within your confines.

“why do you care?” he settled on that question, a note of bitterness entering his voice, “last i checked, you were too busy dancing with some lame idiot.”

your silence was icy, and suna thought that he might be stupid. at last, your hands resumed rubbing your skin, and your voice sounded almost tired, “because you’re injured, rin. because you look like you’re gonna make some bad decisions.”

then, you huffed, just as bitter and full of resentment as he felt when he breathed next to you and could not call you his, “but i guess i’m the lame idiot here, whatever.”

you turned to leave, but movement rustling behind you and a warm hand on your legs stopped you. half-crawled, half-supported on a knee and a foot, suna rintarou’s fingers squeezed your flesh, and he looked up at you with eyes that spelt out too many hidden emotions, too many hidden desires, too many words unsaid.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that,” he leaned his forehead against your thigh and your leg twitched at the contact, “i’m annoyed. this shit’s annoying. i fucking miss you, and you’re dancing and you don’t care and god, i’m so fucking pissed—”

a hot kiss placed on your thigh, his hand warm; tendrils of guilty and embarrassed pleasure shooting from where he had touched you to your lower stomach. 

“rin, i don’t—”

his other hand coming up to grip the back of the leg he was leaning against shut you up, and his fingers felt so familiar, the press of the tips against your flesh, marking you in the way they used to. the trace of his lips against you spelt out a dirty secret that he kept hidden in the sleeves of his jacket, in the confines of his pants, in the innermost window of his soul.

those eyes looked at you, half his face covered by the skirt from where you were watching him, pleading, another swipe of his tongue on your skin, tasting you, asking for you to give in.

“i can’t without you,” he murmured against your leg, hot and wet, a bite, “fuck, please. tell me you miss me just as much.”

your ribcage heaved up; rin at your feet, his hands spelling out his desire, the press of his face so comfortable and everything you wanted. your chest hurt, the arousal pooling low, “i hate you.”

he couldn't help but notice that you still didn't deny him.

“i know,” another kiss, and god, he was going to make you go—, “i know, babe, i know. but i’m— crazy, i’m going crazy.”

his nose was searching, a trail he could follow with his eyes closed, leading him under your skirt with ease, tracing the edges of your panties. his groan rumbled in his chest against your leg when he found the proof that you wanted him just as much, the vibration sending shocks through you and you couldn’t help the little pant escaping your mouth.

“fuck, you don’t even know,” suna mouthed against your clothed pussy, the desperate raw edge in his voice kissing you you through the material. your legs trembled, tiny little flutters at the way suna rintarou disappeared under your skirt so naturally, the way the hood of his sweater draped over his back peeped out from underneath, his hands steading you as he licked the wetness of your panties until his saliva drenched all of it.

“r—rin,” your hands found his shoulders to support yourself on, legs spread a little further, hair tickling your innermost skin, “i hate you, a—ha-nd i hate all those s—stupid girls you had with you, an— rin.”

his finger had wrapped around your panties, pulling it to the side, mouth latched to your pussy freely now, tongue tracing your folds like he had forgotten the look of you, the feel of you under his pink muscle, all the little things that had your breath hitching, that had you moan, that had your hands grip his thick neck to press him up further.

“i hated seeing those assholes at your arm,” he snapped against you, mouth growing forceful, and two of his fingers coating themselves in your wetness, teasing you, pushing in slowly, deliberately, “what do they fucking know about what type of sounds you make, huh? how to treat you? how to love you?”

suna knew you; he knew the spot to curl his fingers against, knew the rhythm of his tongue against your clit, knew the erogenous zones to stimulate with his other hand to have you panting, knew the tell-tale sign of you coming undone underneath his touch. and with each stroke, with each kiss, with each gasp of air he forces down his throat before diving back into you, he missed you.

“i want you,” the squelch in the air was obscene, so fucking vulgar, “i need you. please.”

your nerves coiled and crashed on top of him, dissolving into an onslaught of lust, of love, of hate, of cum, of his tongue ever-lasting, of his voice begging, and had he not been holding you up, you would have lost your footing and fallen down, too.

“rin, rin, rin, rin,” name chanting, hands sweaty on his jacket, the pull of your panties, the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you through the orgasm.

“tell me,” his hips were moving against the air, desperate for reprieve, “tell me there’s no other, babe. there’s me, hn? i’ve got you.”

another orgasm was on the edge of your perception at the continuous stimulation, at the continuous plea to give suna what he had to miss out on for the past weeks. brain drunk on you, yours drunk on him, fingers slipping, “rin, there— ah, never wa—ha-as. fuck, you make m’feel soo goo—oood.”

his cock pulsated in tandem with his heart, aching, your words beelining straight down, fuelling the haze surrounding his mind. his mind couldn’t help but conjure all the times other men’s hips snapped into your heat, imagining you opening your mouth wide to fit them. it was like a disease; his thoughts revolved around you, jealousy rushing hot through his veins. 

the way his fingers turned harsh, curling deep had your nerves tingling with an excitement that you hadn’t felt in so long, and your tongue flicked out to moisten your lips. he had leaned back, face exposed to the cool air, lower half of his face glistening in the night and the soft backyard lights. he kept you in his gaze, eyes following the movement of your tongue. his other finger joined to take over the featherlight touches to your clit, so in contrast to the filthy way a third finger joined to wedge itself into your cunt. 

he huffed, “look into my eyes.”

suna's eyes were like a maze that drew you in, the way they had from the first night you had found yourself in his bed. it kept luring you in, even when he paused to stand up in one swift move, balance found quickly, chest pressed against yours, his fingers slowing down from the pace you couldn’t keep up with. so close to you, in the familiar embrace, your head came forward instinctually to rest on his shoulder. 

“eyes up. look at me,” he repeated, nudging your head with his shoulder and you lifted it slightly to recapture the storming grey. his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, eyes half-lidded as he drank you in.

their usually sharp lines having softened, yet his voice remained rough, “nobody compares. you fuckin’ get that?”

his touch became more like a caress; the strokes plunging in deep but not with any less of the needy passion. it drew from you trembles, little moans meant for him, his name tumbling from your lips as you asked for another release; the brewing of feelings in your chest accompanying the heat pooling low.

suna’s head dipped low, found your sensitive skin littered with goosebumps and had his tongue brushing over your flesh to taste your scent. his teeth bit down lightly, a sharp canine digging into your skin; a certain intent behind the marking, possessive and pissed off. the pressure of his clothed cock rubbing your stomach had you clinging to him, and when you opened your mouth, amongst tiny mewls leaving your mouth, another inquiry did as well.

“w—what did a—ah-tsumu say to you?”

he inhaled sharply, surprised, his teeth sinking in deeper and harder for a second, and a painful gasp escaped you. immediately, suna ripped his head back at the sound, half an apology in the depth of his eyes, half fogged confusion, a lot of annoyance.

he stilled, because why the fuck were you taking another man’s name into your mouth when he was knuckles deep inside you?

“who the fuck cares about that guy?”

you visibly recoiled from the sharp tone and the way his fingers felt anything but nice anymore, yet when you stepped back, the inner walls of your pussy quivered at the loss, “why are you reacting like that?”

suna knew from the way your hands came up to hug yourself that you felt a little lost, and the way his pruney fingers grew cold, exposed to the air, squeezed his heart. he didn’t want to be apart from you, but when he stepped forward, you stepped back and suddenly, he thought that the jacket wasn’t enough to keep him warm anymore.

something licked at his heart; something ugly and anxious, clawing through his ribcage like something trying to escape a prison, “you don't get that it kind of wasn’t the time?” 

just stop asking. stop caring about that fucking miya guy. why are you so interested in what miya said? just sto—

“it never is the time with you,” another step back, your voice bitter and regretful, and suna had half a mind to try and step forward again, “you know, i didnt come out here to fuck around with you. i was genuinely concerned and there you go again, completely stuffing whatever fucking emotional connection i want to start.”

suna swallowed poison; tongue bitter and words even more so, “i didn't ask for your damn sympathy, alright?”

he was lying. 

sunarin was lying through his goddamn teeth. he wanted your sympathy and more. he wanted you to have the same interest, the same suffocating need for his presence the way he craved yours; so badly that he could vomit. yet you stared at him like he had never made you happy once, and drawing up the same old walls felt safe, a routine he had perfected, felt like something he couldn’t fuck up no matter how much he tried.

he didn’t want to mention atsumu, didn’t want to think that saying his name might prompt you to go look for that guy. because why wouldn’t you? 

you knew atsumu from before, doing god knows what. goddamn it, you weren’t even his.

suna wanted you for himself, wanted you to not even entertain the idea of hearing atsumu express any kind of interest, jest or not, couldn’t bear the idea that you might take the fake blonde up on his offer. 

he couldn’t. he couldn’t. 

he wanted you to never hear that name again, but he supposed that he had a funny way of expressing that. because what escaped his numb lips was not the love confession he yearned to say, but accusation after accusation. because he didn’t know and he needed to know and he couldn’t rest until he knew.

his palm hurt where his nails dug in harshly.

“if you just came out here because you’re scared for your miya fucking shitsumu, don’t bother. you already have his number, no? no need to go through me then.”

suna regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. because he did mention the guy. he did mention the number that would help you bridge the distance. did what he didn’t want to do because jealousy and sorrow and anger swirled in his chest and the gravitational pull of his heart for all negative things was too great. suna hated that he was the reason you looked like you were going to cry. 

he thought he was stupid. he was so goddamn stupid, and he wanted to get back down on his knees and ask you for forgiveness, but when he stepped forward, you took not one but two steps back. 

the silence stretched between you seemed to be more of a measurement of distance, and you were so far away.

“you’re messed up,” is what you replied, quiet, hands rubbing your arms. you wanted to turn around, wanted to leave and curl up because you felt so used, but he stood there with his stupid hoodie, with the stupid slanted eyes that always observed you so sharply, with the stupid glistening of his lips from where his mouth had met your body feverishly; and it was difficult to breathe because he was still the most beautiful guy you had ever met.

you turned around to leave and this time, sunarin didn’t stop you because maybe he did deserve to be alone.

TAGLIST | @takes1

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Money Trees

Fluff

Req

Megan Skeindal x Broke!Boxer!freader

A/n: Stationed in LA. Reader is a puncher and a punching bag. Megan is the caring ginger labradoodle she is.

Sypnosis: You love being a fighter, the feeling, adrenaline and its the only thing that helps you get by. But Megan hates it, knowing she could give you want you need and more.

Another jab to the side has you wince in pain. The opponent goes for another headshot but you duck below it, landing an uppercut on them and sealing the win.

After the winning announcement is made you go back to your dressing room and look into the mirror. A bruise on your temple, a busted lip and a bruise on your side. Megan wasn't going to be happy.

Boxing made you feel content in a way. You get to let put your anger on other people and you get payed, it's an all win situation, especially since you need the money.

You get a good amount of money per win, a few hundreds and if you're lucky, a thousand or two. Megan has persisted on and on that she gets enough as an Idol and can take care of you, but you refuse each time.

She hates seeing you hurt, seeing the bruises and cuts every other day makes her sulky, not liking the sight of you hurt.

You change into your training clothes and step out of the room with your duffel bag slinged over you shoulder. Your coach hands you an ice pack for your lip as he congratulates you.

You walk out to your car, sitting in the driver's seat as you open your phone. A missed text from Megan. A smile comes to your face as you open the text, she's asking for you to come to the kats house.

You set the ice bag in the passenger seat as you start the car, soon pulling out of the venues parking lot and driving to the kats house.

You park the car and wear you face mask, and cap, not wanting to alert the kats, they knew you were a fighter, but it didn't mean you didn't get scolded by them for having bruises every other day.

You knock on the door, waiting till you're met with the familiar Red hair of Lara. "Megan, you're wife's here" she yells into the house as she let's you in. You hear a loud shut up before a body crashes into yours.

"Nice to see you too Yoonchip" you chuckle, your voice a bit muffled by the mask. "Another fight" Sophia asks as she walks around the living room, seemingly fixing some things. You hum as Yoonchae let's go of you and Megan finally get downstairs.

She wastes no time grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs to her room. Obviously you follow like a lovesick puppy. "Sit" she says, her voice stern as she nods her head to her bed and walks to her closet grabbing the medkit she kept with her ever since she started dating you.

You sit on her bed and she walks back to you, taking off your mask and cap. She frowns at the bruise on your temple and the red swollen corner of your lip. She gets a gauze pad from the med kit in next to her.

She presses it to the corner of your lip, almost with zero care, causing you to wince. "Meg, I know you're mad-" you start just to be cut off by her pressing the gauze pad harder to the wound.

"How many times have I told you, you don't have to keep fighting, I could take of you" she mumbles, removing the gauze pad from your lip and finally looking in your eyes after staring down your bruises.

"I know but-" you start, just fo be cut off again. "No, do you think this getting you small amounts of money is a justifiable reason?" She cups your face in her hands. "Please stop, I don't like seeing you beat up, what if one day you lose and it's bad, maybe even fatal? What am I gonna do then" her voice wavers as tears build in her eyes.

You sigh heavily, pulling her into your lap as you hug her. "Fine, I'll stop" you mumble into her shoulder. You hear her exhale shakily as you agree to stop fighting.

Megan finishes dressing your wounds, the one on your side being the most painful, you may or may not have a fractured rib bit that can be dealt with when Megan isn't clinging to you like a koala and definitely when it's not night.

Night had fallen in LA. You decided to stay in the kats house, playing video games with Dani and Manon and helping Sophia and Lara control them two. When everyone had retired to their own rooms you found yourself next to Megan in her bed.

Both of you dozing in and put of sleep as you make pointless conversation and laughter.

"Were you being for real" she mumbles as she looks in your eyes in the dark. "About the fighting? Yes, ill stop for you love." You respond, your eyes drooping as you answer. She smiles, her hands wrapping around your waist as she nozzles her face into your neck.

"Goodnight" she mumbles. "Goodnight love" You respond as you both fall asleep in the comfort of each other's arms and presence.

[awkward-tension-art]

Order 66 (tbb x Jedi!reader)

Ok, so i’ve had this idea in my head of the clones with a Jedi S/O during Order 66. I don’t mean they act on Order 66, I mean if everything sorta played out similar in canon (Chip doesn’t work)

Idk, I like me some protective boys.

CW: minimally proofread, jedi!S/O, Reader, Gender neutral pronouns, Order 66, violence, death, swearing, Hunter trying his best, Wrecker being a sweetie, Echo is ready to fight, Tech is the only one who is level headed, and Crosshair being somewhat emotional

You were following Caleb when the order came through. Your steps stumbled and your knees hit the cold ground. All around you, the Force was being ripped apart. Hands were on your shoulders. 

your lover. You barely realized through the haze.

With absolute horror, you watched helplessly as clones gunned down Depa Billaba. “Run Caleb!” You heard her scream through the overwhelming grief and death you felt. The padawan turned, lightsaber ready. 

“Get away from us!” he barked, calling your name, “Get up! Please!”

He was panicked, confused. So were you. 

You managed to look up, seeing the clone troopers across the field standing over Master Billaba’s smoking corpse. They were prepping to kill you and the padawan next.

Without another word you bolted, grabbing Caleb’s hand and sprinting to the trees. You didn’t look back. You had to make sure the kid was safe.

Hunter

“Wait!” He’ll give chase before stopping at the tree line. He had never seen you look so devastated and afraid. 

He’s going to follow you. Of course he is. He’s just as confused as everyone else. 

Until Tech finally finds out what's going on

“The Jedi have been ordered to be executed.” “Which one?” “All of them.”

“What!? Why!?” Hunter is panicked at this point. The troopers behind him have orders to kill. They won’t show you mercy. 

“Apparently they’ve committed treason.”

By the time he finds you, Caleb had already jumped across the ravine and was waiting for you. You turned, tears in your eyes.

“I can feel it…everyone is being killed.” 

“We’re going to figure this out,” He’s going to try and calm you down, “I promise, we’re going to figure this out.” His arms are around you. 

It wasn’t safe for you. Not anywhere near him and the others. He knows this. You know this. 

The two of you come up with a hurried plan.

“Go to these coordinates. Once we know what's going on, I’ll come find you.” He’ll kiss you passionately, “Get the kid and hide.” 

Hunter won’t go with you. He’s the squad leader. He can’t just go missing. 

Despite the fear that you’ll be found out, he trusts you and your skills to stay alive.

Once you jump across, he’ll watch, make sure no one follows or tries to shoot at you. 

Once he’s questioned on your whereabouts, he’s going to lie, “I managed to stab the kid and shoot the Jedi. both of them fell into the water.”

I will say, his nerves are shot until he gets to you again. 

But in the meanwhile? He’s antsy. Anxious and a tad distracted.

Also a hairs trigger from snapping.

Crosshair badgers him at Kamino and Hunter barely holds back a punch.

Hunter loves you, so damn dearly. And right now he can’t protect you because he needs to figure out what the fuck is going on.

But, after finding the truth and getting Omega, he makes a damn beeline for the coordinates he gave you.

Plus side? Caleb and Omega become friends.

Echo

What the FUCK just happend!?

He sprints into the trees to keep up, ignoring how Hunter is calling his name. 

“Echo, get back here!” 

“No.” He will cut off his comms. 

He’s an ARC trooper, he can track you to a degree. He’s not like Hunter, but he gets to the general area where you are. 

He manages to get to a clearing where you and Caleb are hiding in the trees. 

“Cyare!” Echo is clearly confused, worried and he swears he feels the same amount of death that’s overwhelmed you. 

Once you reveal yourself, his helmet is off and his arms are around you so tightly.

“I don’t know what's going on, but I’ll keep you and Commander Dume safe.”

Hunter and Crosshair catch up to you, and once Crosshair aims his blaster at you and Caleb, Echo is ready to brawl. 

He stands protectively in front of you, gun aimed at the sniper, “If your skinny ass doesn’t put the fucking gun away I swear to-!”

“Both of you stand down!” Hunter will have to get between them, because Echo is 100% willing to shoot Crosshair if it means you stay safe. 

He’s not aware Crosshair doesn't exactly have a choice at the moment.

Really no one is aware.

But he’s lost domino squad, he’s lost Fives, he's lost legion, right now his former general is probably being killed…He’s lost so much already.

He refuses to lose you too.

So Echo pulls the trigger first, settling on stunning him and making a dash towards the ravine. Hunter has to keep up.

Once Caleb is across, he’ll get meetup coordinates from Hunter.

Echo goes with you. He doesn’t return to Kamino. The moment he's across the ravine with you and Caleb he’s a deserter. 

He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

He’s a strong, determined guard, and one who didn’t let you or Caleb get hurt.

Wrecker

He casts a glance at Hunter before running off after you. 

He has no idea what Order 66 is. Nor does he care.

The guy saw you so…out of it. So scared and confused.

His protective instincts have geared up to 11. 

Hunter goes with him, while Crosshair is the one who remains behind to stall.

Once Tech informs everyone that the Jedi have been named traitors and should be executed on sight, Wrecker gets serious. Very serious. 

He becomes so unlike himself, even Crosshair is surprised.

Honestly? I see Wrecker as someone willing to gun down any ‘reg’ if they’re threatening his squad or s/o. 

Even this early into the Empire.

When he sees you, he’s immediately grabbing you into his arms which causes Caleb to attack.

Admittedly he’s gonna tackle Caleb, only adding to the poor kids terror. 

“Wrecker, you're scaring him!” 

But after a strong bear hug and an “Easy kid! I’m tryna help you!” The padawan calms down enough to listen. 

He puts Caleb down, rips off his helmet and gives you one hell of a kiss. 

He’s worried. He’s scared. And he wants to protect you. 

Hunter will have to talk him down from running off with you.

The sergeant has to keep his squad together. It sucks but they need to figure out what the heck is happening at the moment.

Wrecker desperately wants to go with you but he can’t abandon his squad.

However, he feels much better once Hunter gives some safe coordinates to lay low and hide.

He’ll get you to the ravine and stand guard until you and Caleb are across and out of sight.

You bet your ass when he meets up with you again he’s not letting you go. 

Tech

He isn’t as emotional as the others at the moment. He’s actually focused on gathering as much information in the least amount of time.

He waits, listening to the comm chatter. What is going on? why?

“Execute Order 66.”

After a second, he shares a look with Hunter.

“Tech, go after-”

No more words need to be said. Tech is gone and going after you.

He’s smart. He knows your patterns. He knows where you’d most likely hide. So he focuses on that.

Once he’s confident he’s in a broad area where you and Caleb are, he’s going to call out to you, “Cyare? There’s something called Order 66 on the comms.” 

Tech gives you information first. He won’t make you reveal yourself if you don’t feel safe enough. 

When Echo announces that the Jedi have been charged with treason, he’ll relay that to you. 

“The comms say the Jedi committed treason against the Republic,” He’s going to keep looking around for you, “I know you. You’d never do such a thing. I’m here, Cyare. I can help you.”

Once you reveal yourself, Caleb behind you, he feels the biggest amount of relief. 

He pulls off his helmet, giving you a small smile.

“Tech…The Jedi…” your voice cracks, “They’re being killed…I can feel it.” 

“I know, Cyare…I’m sorry.” He tries his best to comfort you, but he knows he can never understand. 

The amount of Jedi he’s worked with can be counted on one hand. 

But he knows this is your family. Your friends. Your very life.

Once Hunter meets up with you guys, a plan can be put in place. 

He gives you coordinates for a location to meet-up and hide. You’ll lay low with Caleb.

In the meantime, Tech will return to Kamino, figure out what's happening, and from there a better, more long term plan can be made.

Before you leave though, he’s going to give you the longest, most passionate kiss he's ever given you.

He’s well aware that there's a chance you can be found and killed. 

Tech is the only one who has accepted that you may not make it out of this.

But he’s going to keep his mind occupied, distract himself until he’s by your side again. 

Crosshair

As soon as the order goes out, Crosshair is under the influence of the inhibitor chip.

He just doesn’t know. No one does at this point.

He watches you run away with Caleb and the drive to hunt you down is hard to ignore.

He needs to find you to kill you, to protect you.

But, the sudden headache he has is damn near blinding.

Crosshair follows Hunter, keeping his comms on.

He freezes when Tech finds out the Jedi have been marked for execution.

The Inhibitor Chip in his skull is contending with his feelings for you.

He needs to execute save you.

When he spots you he pulls his rifle and aims but barely manages to stop himself.

He can’t hurt you. He needs to kill loves you.

Crosshair draws some sort of conclusion that Kaminoans had conditioned all clones to follow specific orders.

He doesn’t know of the chip. He just assumes it comes from the troopers' conditioning.

When his arms are around your body, for a brief moment he thinks of snapping your neck.

Good soldiers follow orders.

He hates orders.

This is the point where Crosshair knows something is seriously wrong with him.

But he’s not going to say anything yet. He can still fight if need be.

“You need to run…hide…get away from here.” it's a rare moment that he’s scared.

The sniper is desperate to shoot protect you.

The headache is persistent, and it’s somewhat distracting.

But he’ll power through.

Crosshair will wait for Hunter to come up with…something. 

His eyes are on the area around you, gun set to kill in case any reg tries anything.

The plan? Clone Force 99 returns to Kamino while you and Caleb go into hiding. 

You have coordinates. He can find you later. 

But…well Crosshair doesn’t like that. At all.

Hear me out. Like Echo, Crosshair goes with you. He knows somethings up with him, but he trusts himself more than he trusts anyone else.

“Tell Kamino they killed me.” He instructs Hunter, “That I died trying to stop the Jedi and you managed to get justice.”

He crosses the ravine with you, only looking back to nod back to Hunter. 

By the time Crosshair, you and Caleb safely get off the planet, his headache is a small annoyance that goes away with time.

Crosshair sticks with you until he reunites with his squad and notices Omega

Welp, you got Caleb, what's one more kid?

[maxispixels]

HANDPICKED

PART FOURTEEN.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

3k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around (more) 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy ? (very)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve. Part thirteen. Part fourteen.

The bell rang over your head, welcoming. It felt like spring inside of four walls, the smell of flowers and a herbal blend of tea greeted you almost as warmly as Rose, a nice break from the cutting wind drying your skin. A lot of boxes and other deliveries were still unopened. When she saw the scratches on your hands and the bruising around your brow bone though, her soft smile got replaced by tight lips.

 “What happened to you?” she asked eagerly, stepping around the counter surprisingly fast for a limping lady, her wrinkled hands cradling your face. “Did that punk do that?” Her voice rose, gingerly squishing your cheeks.

“What?” You blinked at her. “No. No, not at all!” You were so offended by her accusations, you lost all ability to remember and tell the lie you had prepared for this. “I got in a fight and punched some guy at a bar—” You blurted out so honestly that she could only believe you, no matter how surreal you getting in a fight in a bar seemed.

“You? Punched some guy at a bar?” She repeated in a mix of awe and disbelief, before shaking her head. “You know what? I’m not going to ask. We got all of our deliveries for Christmas, unpack it, I don’t pay you to stand here.”

“I just got here!” you protested, but she scolded you like you’d been lounging all day.

“With 30 minutes lateness.”

That got you. You groaned, defeated, feeling your face flushed at the memory of your reason for being late, the mere thought reminding you of the lingering warmth of Hobie’s arms around your stomach. 

Without any more playful bickering, you kneeled to the cardboard boxes, precision knife in hand as you carefully unravelled beautifully red poinsettia trees, small pine trees and other branches and wires. 

You had a few commands for Christmas wreaths and decorated small Christmas trees. So you sat in the back and mostly worked on that, as Rose was more fit to handle customers than crafts, her trembling hands making it hard to carefully use secateurs. 

You weaved together flowers, red ribbons, stars and angels on pine branches, your hands roughened and smelling like cedar. You had gotten a few small cuts, but you often did when you had to work like that. It didn’t really hurt, you had gotten used to your hand stinging.

Rose checked on your progress a few times, dropping pieces of advice, that were really just orders said nicely, for your arrangements. 

You helped her out a few times with hanging decorations around the shop, until she left earlier in the afternoon, leaving you to tie the ribbons behind the counter.

By the end of the week, you were ready for December, christmas wreaths nicely arranged on the shop’s shelf, flowery christmas trees at every corners of the room, red and white ribbons, mistletoes, and the sweet smell of the sugar cookies Rose left for you. 

When the bell above the door jingled again, a sound familiar and so harmless, you thought it was Rose finally coming back for her purse.

“I put it in the back, next to the kettle.” You mumbled without much more thought, working on an intricate knot.

And when you were met with nothing breaking the silence but a rumbling breath, you had to look up. Your breath caught in your throat, choking you silent. 

Bob, Rob, Robert, whatever his name was, stood in the doorway, his silhouette blocking out the gray light from the street behind him. He looked rough, bruising still faint along his jaw, a split lip healing ugly. 

You weren’t ready for this, not now. Not alone. The last time you saw him, there had been fists, anger, the taste of blood in your mouth. Hobie wasn’t there. No security, no one to pull you out if things turned ugly . You gripped the counter, legs unsteady.

“Unsure what you got in the back, but I assume you didn’t expect me.” He mumbled, in a feeble attempt at humor. 

You weren’t sure how to react, your eyes wide as cold sweat ran down your back. You were expecting him to pounce at any time, your fingers even discreetly reaching for scissors or something in case of emergency.

But he didn’t move. And then in all his rough, awkward glory, Robert sighed, scratched at the stubble on his chin, and muttered, “D’ya have flowers for a tosser needin’ to apologize?”

It broke the tension like a stone through glass. You blinked, and if you weren’t shaking in your boots, you would’ve scoffed.

“What?”

He shifted, looking uncomfortable under your stare. Like a child getting scolded. “I dunno. Somethin’ that says I was a proper arse, but, y’know, with petals.”

You didn’t move. Your body still buzzed with the echoes of fear, of old instincts telling you to get ready to run or fight. But he just stood there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes flicking around like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Are you trying to apologize to me? Is that a joke? Or have you been visited by the three ghosts of Christmas or something?” You muttered tentatively, a hint of something mocking in your tone, despite the shakiness of your voice. 

He rolled his eyes, before exhaling sharply. “Ain’t here to fight. Swear.” 

It was supposed to reassure you, but it didn’t, not yet. You stayed still, watching him step closer, waiting for the punchline of whatever cruel joke this might be.

He reached for a small ceramic trinket, a tiny, painted poodle, and turned it over in his fingers, gently rolling his thumb over it. A habit, a nervous tick, something he needed to fidget with for a moment.

Just like Hobie.

Your stomach twisted and you swallowed hard.

They had the same sharpness, the same exhaustion, the same anger buried under layers of bitterness. But where Hobie had fire, Robert had something hollowed out inside him. Something that made him mean, something that made him lash out inside of pulling people close.

“I was a real prick to you,” he muttered, looking down at the old poodle. “Said shit I shouldn’t have.”

You stiffened. “You don’t say.”

That almost  got a laugh out of him. Almost.

Silence settled again, but it wasn’t the same as before. You studied him, still wary, still unsure. You should hate him. Maybe you did. But it was hard to look at him now, bruised and tired, and not think of Hobie. Of how easy it would’ve been for things to go differently, for Hobie to be the one standing here with more anger than love left in his chest.

Finally, Robert sighed and set the tiny ceramic pup back down. “Hobart pulled my arse out of a real mess the other day. Coulda let me get nicked. Shoulda, probably.”

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders, like the memory was physically uncomfortable. “Were to the same protest. T’got bad. Couldn’t get out quick enough. Hobie could. But he didn’t.”

You could picture it too easily. Hobie, exasperated but unwilling to leave someone behind. Even Robert.

You crossed your arms, heart still pounding, but something about the situation was shifting.

Robert sighed again, like he hated what he was about to say. “I guess I owe him a little now. But that doesn’t matter, whatever went sour between us—shouldn't have taken it out on you.”

That caught you off guard. Your grip on your arms loosened just slightly.

For the first time since he walked in, Robert met your eyes. There was something that wasn’t just cruelty or smugness or a need to twist the knife.

Regret.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You really buying flowers for an apology?”

He shrugged. “Actually, I hoped the intention would’ve been enough. Don’t got a single coin in me pocket.”

The bell above the door jingled again, with Rose’s cheerful voice breaking the tension. Seemed like she finally remembered her purse.

“Hello hello,” she greeted.

Suddenly, you had an idea. Something petty, and wicked. You pointed an accusatory finger up to Robert’s confused face, and, with all the annoyingness of a child denouncing another… “He was trying to steal flowers!”

No matter what happened next, the expression on the idiot’s face was worth it. “What? No, I wasn’t—I didn’t-”

Rose’s face fell in exaggerated disappointment, and you had to bite back a laugh. In a follow-up of events you couldn’t keep up with as all your focus was on not cackling, Robert found himself forced to leave his precious cowboy hat on the counter, and to hang all the tinsels, fairy-lights and garlands where you got too tired to do it yourself. You didn’t exactly mean for Robert to linger any longer, but you had to admit it was delicious to see him obey an old lady with his tail between his legs. Rose could be scary.

For so long, you’d imagined him at this towering threat, something sharp and cruel, something you couldn’t face. But now, watching him sulk under Rose’s orders, scowling at tangled Christmas lights, he wasn’t some nightmare anymore. Just another lost man. A mean one, yes, but maybe not as bad as the only parts you got to see. 

When she was done retrieving her bag and gone for good, Robert shook his head. “That was low. And petty.” He grabbed his hat from the counter in a swift movement, tipping it back on his head.

The irony wasn’t lost on you considering the things he did. He deserved it, you thought. And there was something profoundly healing about seeing the man that scared you so much, to the point you’d almost wake up in cold sweat if he visited your dreams, pouting like a child.

From Hobie’s point of view though, as he approached the shop, the scene wasn’t one of reconciliation. All he saw from behind the windows was your glossy eyes and trembling lips—which he couldn’t imagine were from your laughter—and Robert’s fussing.

He stepped inside quickly, almost slamming the door. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” 

You saw it all unfold in a split second, the way Hobie strolled dangerously, jaw clenched, fingers curling tightly around the paper bag in his hand like he was resisting the urge to throw it at Robert’s head.

“You’re tellin’ me I saved your sorry arse just for you to come bother us again?”

Before Robert could open his mouth, you stepped between them. 

“It’s okay—Everything is fine.” You said, and the humor lingering in your tone confused Hobie more. His eyes switched from you to Robert, holding his hands up as to show how innocent he was in all this.

You put a hand on his chest, grounding. “He came to apologize.”

Robert scoffed. “Didn’t say I was good at it though.”

Hobie shot him a look so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. “Lucky for you, I don’t give a shit.”

Robert exhaled, shaking his head. “Right. ‘Course. This was dumb.” He turned back toward the door, hands back in his pockets. “Forget it.”

You hesitated. You shouldn’t feel bad for him. But you did. 

“Robert.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

You swallowed. “For what it’s worth, I forgive you.” You mumbled tentatively, eyeing Hobie in fear of his disapproval. You couldn’t forgive in his name, it wasn’t your place, and he clearly didn’t seem ready to. But unless something else you were unaware of got out, you didn’t hold a grudge against the man.

His mouth twitched, almost a smile, almost something genuine, but he didn’t say anything. Just nodded once before stepping out into the street, the bell jingling behind him.

The second he was gone, Hobie exhaled hard through his nose, muttering something under his breath before turning to you, scanning your face, your stance, looking for any sign that Robert had rattled you.

“He didn’t do anything.” You reassured him. 

Hobie grumbled, still clearly pissed. “Shouldn’t have to deal with his shit at all.”

You sighed. “Maybe. But… I think he needed to say it. And… It felt good. To hear it.” You paused, looking in the distance for a short moment. “Plus, wait till I tell you all that happened—” You smiled, already chuckling at the mere thought of recounting Robert sheepishly following Rose’s orders.

Hobie studied you for a long moment before his shoulders finally eased, the tension draining just slightly. He sighed, handing you the paper bag. “Got you something sweet. Figured you earned it.”

You smiled, taking it, letting the sweet smell of baked goods warm your soul. “Thank you.”

“I’m stealin’ half of it though, I earned it too for dealing with this.”

You chuckled. “Fine. I’ll get some tea.” And just like that, you disappeared in the back.

Part of you was a little disappointed everything couldn’t just be alright with Robert. Maybe you had hoped for a moment that they would be fast friends again, but considering their history—or rather what little you knew of it–it was a bit unrealistic. 

You watched the bubbles in the kettle, the bruises healing on your hands. For a minute, you let yourself sit with it. The simple fact that you had stood your ground. Twice. The fear hadn’t vanished, not completely, but you hadn’t let it win. And that was something new.

What you found funny a minute ago left a strange taste in your mouth. Not bitter, not sweet. Just like the tea currently infusing, you’ll need to sit for a little while longer with the feeling before finding the true flavor. 

For now, it was a strange mix of new-found confidence and uneasiness at something you weren’t used to yet. 

Hobie eventually followed you there. You felt his warmth against your back as his hands found your arms, and his nose the back of your head. “I closed the store.” He murmured mischievously.

“But it’s still early?” You turned to look at him, confused.

“I wanna enjoy my tea time in peace.” He argued, pulling a chair for you, just wanting to chat and relax.

You smiled and sat down with him, your hand searching for his, kissing the palm.

“So, should I tell you everything now or?...”

“Depends. Did you punch ‘im again?”

“Better.” You bit your lips and he raised an eyebrow.

“Now, I have to know. Spill.”

And so you recalled the events to him. From uncomfortable apologies, to false accusations of flower theft to him doing your work as reparation. 

“Flower theft? Seriously?” He scoffed. “Don’t go givin’ him credit for my work—” he joked in disbelief of you randomly snitching on the man. For something he didn’t even do. “I’m glad it was you I had to deal with instead of Rose.” He laughed at the old woman’s way of dealing with thiefs. 

In turn, Hobie told you about the protest a little more, how he almost left Robert to deal with the cops on his own but couldn’t really bring himself to. 

You were supposed to open the shop again after your tea break, but neither of you moved. 

The warmth of the back room wrapped around you both, the scent of cedar and old leather curling in the air, mingling with the soft hum of the kettle. Hobie stretched his legs out, his hand still loosely tangled with yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in absentminded circles. The world outside kept turning, but none of it mattered right now. 

No fear, no running, no fighting… Just this. Just him.

———

That night, his body felt warmer, his hold tighter, his voice softer.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there, tangled up in each other, listening to the faint hum of the city outside. The occasional siren in the distance. The quiet creak of the radiator. The steady, rhythmic sound of his breath.

Hobie was never still, not really. Even now, his fingers traced absentminded patterns against your back, like there were some invisible guitar strings along your spine. It made you shiver. 

You weren’t even sure who spoke first. But at some point, in the warmth of the covers, in the soft glow of streetlights spilling through the window, it just happened, inevitable, like a thought waiting too long to be said.

“You know what you are?” His voice was hushed, low, like a secret meant just for you.

You hummed against his collarbone, pressing your face into the curve of his neck. “Do tell.”

“A flower bloomin’ in the cracks.” His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, resting there. “Right in the middle of all this concrete and shit, still standin’. Still thrivin’.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing the line of his jaw. “You wanna know what you are?”

He smirked, teasing. “A proper pain in the arse?”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “A dandelion.”

His brows lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Now that’s just rude.”

You bit your lip, hesitating, then admitted, “I used to be scared of you. Scared you’d just… scatter in the wind. Be gone before I could catch you.” Your voice was quieter now, barely there. “But you’re still here.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “‘Course I am.” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb gently running along your cheekbone, right under your eyes.

You swallowed, your fingers curling into his shirt;

“I love you.” Your voice barely made it past your lips. It felt strange, like stating something obvious, something that should’ve been said earlier.

Hobie stilled. Just for a second. No teasing remarks, no witty deflection. Just that look. Like he had been waiting to hear it, but hadn’t dared to hope for it.

His forehead pressed against yours, his grip tightened, and his voice was steady when he finally spoke.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I love you too.”

It was simple, certain. He kissed you then, slow and lingering. Like he hadn’t a hundred times before. Like he had all the time in the world. And you were sure he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Tags: @hoe-bie @kittenjujusblog

hey haha so um yeah this is over I guess and I'm completely normal about it *sobs uncontrollably* no sorry it's fine it's just i never did that before (finishing something)

I'll do some tidy up eventually, a navigation system will probably make it easier,,, also just some tumblr formatting to make things neat

[angstywaifu]

Forgive Me - Brennan Sorrengail

Request: "Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.” (enemies to lovers vibe)

Summary: In a matter of moments, the man you thought you knew becomes someone you barely know. Desperate to get your attention again, he corners you to find out why.

Warnings: 18+, smut, NSFW, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight praise, angst.

Kinktober MasterList

I avert my gaze as his eyes meet mine across the throne room. All week he’s tried to catch my eye, try talk to me, do whatever he can to get my attention. But having the identity of someone I thought I knew completely flipped definitely had me questioning a lot.

I always knew he kept things from me, unable to tell me everything that was going on with the rebellion. But somehow this hurt more. I remember the way my heart dropped as Mira reacted to seeing him. The recognition in her eyes before anger took over and punched him. And that’s when it clicked. I’d barely seen him around Violet when we’d brought her here. And when I did, I had clearly missed their reunion. But seeing all three of them together had made the pieces all click into place.

I remember the panic in his eyes as he’d looked over and seen me, seen my reaction to what I had figured out. I’d quickly turned and run off, not wanting to talk to him incase I said something I would come to regret later. That was over a week ago.

”We’ll need a volunteer to leave right after this meeting and scout out these locations.” His voice breaking me out of my thoughts.

Garrick goes to raise his hand to volunteer like he always does. “I’ll go,” I call out as I push off the wall, drawing the attention to me.

It wasn’t uncommon for me to go out on patrol when I was here, but I never volunteered first. Usually waiting to see if they needed extra riders.

Brennan goes to object but Xaden cuts him off as he pushes past him to hand me a scroll. “All the locations are listed in there, as well as what we want to confirm. I’d recommend memorising it and disposing of it before you go.”

I don’t meet Brennan’s eye as I take the scroll from Xaden and return to my position on the wall next to Bodhi and Garrick. I feel them eyeing me, clearly noting something was up. But they know better than to question me, knowing it was better to leave me be till I talked to them. Which wasn’t happening any time soon. Not till I was back at least.

As soon as we are dismissed I bolt out the door to go grab my pack from my room. Luckily it was already packed and ready to go, deciding it was better to have it ready in case I needed to leave at a moments notice. And right now I was very much thanking past me for that decision.

My door bangs closed behind me as I kneel on the floor, reaching under my bed for my pack, fingers curling around the leather strap as I pull it from under the bed. I quickly unlatch the top, making sure everything is still there. Satisfied I have everything I need I fasten it closed before grabbing the flight jacket I’d left on my bed this morning.

With both items secured in my hands, I turn to leave the room to make one last pit stop at the kitchens to grab some food and water to tide me over for a day or two. But as I open the door and step into the hallway I collide with something very solid, strong hands grasping my arms to stop me from falling over.

The familiar smell of parchment, mint and a smell I’ve now associated with trees meets my nose. I don’t even have to look up to know who stands in my way, who is holding my arms so tightly it hurts a little.

”You’re not going anywhere till we talk,” he says softly, as if scared I’ll run away. Impossible seeing as he’s blocking the entire doorway, no way for my to sneak past him.

I should have known he would follow me, or at least come here to find me. I should have forgotten my pack and headed straight to the kitchen and my dragon. But I’d come here, just like he knew I would.

He pushes on my arms, guiding us back into my room as he kicks the door closed behind him. I swear I hear it lock into place as I turn and sit on the edge of my bed.

”There’s nothing to talk about.” I mutter, casting my eyes downwards to the floor as I drop my pack next top me with a loud thud.

I hear him exhale loudly, almost like he’s laughing. “I beg to differ love. You’ve been ignoring me all week. You’ll barely look me in the eye.” I feel the bed sink slightly as he sits next to me. “So we need to talk. Please.”

I don’t know why but my anger flairs, more than it has all week. “You want to talk?” I snap back as I stand, turning to look down and meet his eyes for the first time all week. “Fine, lets talk about how I had to find out you aren’t who I thought you were and if it wasn’t for seeing how Mira reacted to you I would have no idea. To me you would still be Brennan Aisereigh, the Lieutenant Colonel I’d started stupidly falling for. But no, you’re the long lost, thought to be dead son of General Lilith Sorrengail, who also happens to be one of the reasons my parents are dead!”

The silence is deafening as we stare at each other, my chest rising and falling heavily as a tear rolls down my cheek. His amber eyes following it as it trails down my cheek before dropping to the floor. I see the sadness and guilt in his amber eyes as they look back up at mine. It makes me want to run into his arms, go back to normal or as close as we can, go back to whatever it was we were doing. But my brain screams at me not to. Feeling betrayed at what I’d learnt.

”I wanted to tell you, trust me I did.” His voice wavering slightly as I scoff at his words, shaking my head in disbelief as I turn away. “But I couldn’t risk it getting out who I really was. Especially if someone got captured.”

I know he’s right. With signets like Dain’s out there, it wasn’t safe to know that kind of information. You could withstand all the torture in the world, and they’d still find out. All that training we get put through would have been for nothing. But it still hurts so much.

I startle as he lays a hand on my shoulder. I go to step away but his hand tightens as he turns me around to face him. Being this close to him makes my heart scream to forgive him, to pull him into an embrace, to take him to my bed and to forgive it all.

”Can you forgive me? I can’t lose you.” He pleads, his hands reaching up to cup my face.

I clamp my eyes shut, releasing a shaky breath as I prepare myself for the words about to leave my mouth. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t.” His hands twitching slightly. No, they’re shaking. And he’s trying to stop it.

He leans his forehead against mine, his head shaking slightly. “Open your eyes.” A slight shake in his voice. “Just look at me.”

I slowly open my eyes, a tear escaping as I look up at him. He must see something in them, the corners of his mouthing curling upwards ever so slightly. A slight spark of hope visible in his amber eyes.

“You can. I can see it. Your eyes are already saying yes.” His thumbs caressing my cheeks. “Now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

I open my mouth to object, to tell him no. But my words get lost as he brings his lips to mine. At first the kiss is slow, cautious, as if testing out who I’ll react. If I’ll push him away. Or if I’ll pull him in. I feel his body relax, as if sighing with relief when my lips move against his, my hands grabbing onto him. My brain screams at me to stop, but I was gone the second his lips touched mine. The kiss quickly becomes heated, his hands sliding from my face as he starts pulling at my flight leathers, loosening them with ease. I quickly become putty in his hands as his lips leave mine, kissing down my neck so delicately it has me shivering with each kiss.

I go to start removing his clothes, but Brennan’s strong hands grasp mine tightly, halting my movements as he looks down at me, shaking his head slightly. “Not tonight love, this is all about you ok?” All I can manage is a nod, my words lost. “Now take off your clothes.”

Despite halting my attempts to remove his clothes, he removes a few layers before walking backwards, laying down in my bed as his amber eyes wander over me. I do as he says, shrugging out of the leathers he had started to undo, before kicking off my boots to remove my pants, leaving me in just my underwear. I go to remove it, but he shakes his head, motioning with a hand to walk over to the bed.

I walk over to the bed, stopping at the edge as I wait for Brennan to tell me what he wants. He reaches out and takes my hand in his as he pulls me onto the bed, his other hand guiding my leg so I straddle him over his chest. I look down at him confused, unsure why he’s positioned me so high up. My confusion doesn’t last long, Brennan shuffling down on the bed so he rests right between my legs. I go to protest, but my words die on my tongue as he rips my underwear, tossing them aside before he dives between my legs.

”Oh fuck.” I exclaim loudly, a hand fisting in Brennan’s curls as his tongue delves between my folds.

He lets out a deep groan as my fingers tighten in his hair, the vibrations sending shivers through my body, amplifying the feeling of his tongue between my legs. His hands grip my hips tightly, pulling me further onto this mouth, giving him better access.

It’s not long before I succumb to the pleasure, my hips grinding down on his face earning another deep groan from Brennan as his fingers dig more into the flesh of my hips as he feasts on me like a starved man. His tongue swirling and flicking over my sensitive spots in the best way, obscene sounds filling the room.

”You taste so good my love.” He mumbles against me as he pulls back slightly, placing a kiss to my inner thigh.

I feel him chuckle as my hips seek out his mouth again, wanting to feel him between my legs again. This time his mouth seeks out my clit, his tongue flicking across the sensitive nub causing a shiver which nearly as me clamping my thighs around his head.

”Oh gods, yes!” I cry out as his fingers join the mix, pumping in and out of me.

I feel the it building inside of me, the coil building up tightly, ready to uncoil at any moment. My walls clamping down around his fingers as he curls them in just the right way to have me gasping and moaning. I whimper as Brennan removes his fingers from inside me, slowly circling around my entrance as he teases me, denying me of the climax I now desperately want as I try to sink back down on his fingers.

”P-please Bren.” I plead as he moves his fingers away again as I try seek them out.

”Only if you forgive me.” He teases, turning his head to nip softly at the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

I nod feverishly down at him, desperate to finish. Desperate to feel his fingers inside me. “Yes. I forgive you.”

”That's my girl.”

I gasp loudly as his fingers push back inside me, pumping in and out faster than before, his lips latching around my clit as his tongue resumes the familiar rhythm I’ve grown to love. My body is quick to respond, the coil tightening in me again, my hips grinding back and forth to chase more. And as he curls his fingers inside me, the coil unravels. Clamping down around his fingers as my orgasm rips through me. His name falling from lips as I fall apart above him. His tongue and fingers not letting up as they milk my orgasm from me. Slowly my orgasm subsides, Brennan sliding back up the bed as he pulls me against him, cradling me against his chest as his hands rub up and down my back.

”Told you I’d get your mouth to forgive me.”

@strangeeaglepost @puttyly @kyl13sm1l3y @wildflowermooon @oliviajm21 @honethatty12 @lesehexe @violent-little-thing @softodettes @marrianena @idkimjusthere100

[theocddiaries]

Rouge: And all this? Are you on the run? Can I join? Sonic: No. Shadow is taking Cream to the countryside for a class project. Knuckles: Is that sensible? Sonic: It’s nearby— Knuckles: No, I mean leaving Shadow alone with an innocent soul. Sonic: I'll let you know, Shadow is great with kids. Shadow [coming from the hallway]: Tails, if I catch you lurking around here again, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll lose that extra tail. Tails: If you don’t like it, you know where the door is! Sonic: …Except with mine, because that's just my luck. Rouge: Hey, are you practicing the voice volume so you can be found if you get lost? Tails: Huh? Oh, I’m not going. I already had to do it once, and it was awful. Besides, I deserve to rest too. Sonic: People usually go to the countryside to rest, you know? Tails: There are some real weirdos out in the world. Rouge: Knuckles, why don’t you go with Shadow and Cream? Some fresh air might do you good. Knuckles: I don’t know, Shadow is weird. Shadow: I’m right here. Knuckles: I wasn’t trying to hide it. I thought it was common knowledge. Tails: If Knuckles goes, I’ll go too. Shadow: Didn’t you say you hate the countryside? Tails: Yeah, but watching you suffer is worth the sacrifice. Rouge: Knuckie, come on, Tails will be there too. Sonic: Shads, it’d be a good chance to bond with my brothers. Shadow: And why would I care about that? Sonic: Because they’re my family? I get along with your siblings. Shadow: That's hardly an accomplishment or an argument; everyone prefers you over me. Rouge: Come on, if you go, I’ll give you bubble wrap. [shows it to him] Knuckles: Deal! [snatches it] Sonic: Come on, do it for me. Shadow: Fine… [grabs his things and heads for the door]: Tails, grab your stuff and meet me at Cream’s house. Knuckles? Knuckles, we're leaving. Sonic: No, no, don’t push him. Just walk, and he’ll follow. He’s like a duckling. [Shadow hesitates but takes two steps, keeping his eyes on Knuckles. Knuckles follows, mesmerized by the bubble wrap.] Shadow: …Well, at least I know he won’t get lost. --- Knuckles: We’re lost! We’re gonna die here! Shadow: Knuckles, we just got here. [shows him the entrance sign, snatches the bubble wrap]: Give me that, I don’t trust you. Knuckles: Oh… Cream: The trees are so tall! It’s like they’re touching the sky! Picture, picture! Shadow: Don’t wander off, Cream. The first thing we need to do is get our bearings. Knuckles, give me the compass. Knuckles: The what? Shadow: The one-handed clock. Knuckles: Oh. I didn’t bring it. I decided to pack only the essentials. Shadow: Right… like your microwave. [Tails comes, struggling while carrying the microwave, setting it down while rubbing his lower back.] Knuckles: Hey, I agreed to come to the countryside, not to give up my afternoon chocolate milk. Shadow: And where exactly do you plan to plug it in? Knuckles: In an outlet, obviously. Shadow: There are no outlets in the countryside. Knuckles: Oh, listen to Mr. Smarty-pants… then how do fireflies recharge?? Shadow: You know what, fine, there are outlets. Let’s pick a route from the map. [pulls it from his backpack]: It’s divided into three colours based on difficulty— Knuckles: The red one! The red one! Red is always good! Shadow: That one’s too hard. We have kids with us. Knuckles: Fine, let the kids choose. Cream, Tails, what do you prefer? The snot-green route or the Echidna-Warrior red one? Tails: Let’s go with the red one, or he won’t shut up. Shadow: Cream, what do you think? Cream: I know nothing will happen to us with you around. Knuckles: See? Sharp kid. She already knows I’m a true countryside echidna. Shadow: Alright, then. We’ll take the red path, but don’t stray from me. Give me your hand, Cream. Knuckles: Tails. [Tails takes his hand.] Knuckles: No, I can walk on my own. Carry the microwave. Tails: …

Next

[reesereadsalot]

𝐹𝒶𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒶

previous chapter - next chapter

Pairings: Finnick x pregnant!reader Johanna x reader (platonic)

Warnings: refer to series masterlist

Desc: Your 7 months pregnant with Finnicks baby. When your the happiest you were in your life, your whole world comes crashing down. You were reaped for the 3rd Quarter Quell.

｡𖦹°‧masterlist

a/n: short chapter but after this chapter we’re going into Mockingjay!! *cheers*

After Beetee had told everyone the plan we set to work immediately. We stayed up until the lightning strike the tree for 12pm. Then, we drew a new map because we knew where 12 o’clock was. We got some bread delivered to us and Finnick suspiciously counted it. Weird. You thought. You looked at Katniss—she thought the same thing.

When it was past 10 o’clock we got to work. We headed over to the tree and when we got there Finnick and Peeta helped Beetee wrap the coil around the tree. Johanna and Katniss were going to go walk the coil to the beach when Peeta protested.

“I’m going with them too.” He said and you looked at him and Katniss. They were planning to leave. You knew it. Finnick knew it. Everyone knew it.

“No stay here and bodyguard Beetee.” You say gesturing to Beetee.

“But they need a bodyguard too.” Peeta says. He pauses then tells you “Also, you and Finnick are here.”.

“Do you see the state I’m in right now?” You asked raising your eyebrow and gesturing to your belly which you had one protective hand over.

“Okay, fine.” Peeta said. Johanna and Katniss started walking to the beach.

It was almost midnight. You stood near Finnick, holding his hand. He was tense but his hand was slightly shaking. You didn’t say anything though as you were shaking too. He was planning something. What upset you was the fact that he wasn’t telling you anything. Beetee shared a glance with Finnick and nodded at him. Finnick cut the wire. Beetee started to wrap the wire around his knife.

“What the hell!” You basically shrieked. “How are we going to kill the tributes now?” You asked Finnick getting up in his face.

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” He said then getting close to your ear and whispering “This is all apart of the plan.”. You were getting red from anger.

“I don’t ca—” You started before you were interrupted.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Peeta yelled pushing Finnick. Finnick got close to his face. Now you were even more mad. You stepped between them.

“Peeta.” You paused. “Walk with me.” You grabbed his hand and started walking. You looked back at Finnick mouthing “Give us a moment.”. He smiled. This isn’t funny. You thought. When you and Peeta were further into the jungle you talked to him. Then, Finnick remembered where you guys were. The arena. You can’t go off by yourself and he wants to stop you but you’re already gone.

“Listen, I’m mad too. Okay?” You paused “I know they’re planning something. I don’t know what it is or why but I know they are. Finnick won’t tell me crap.” You say then you hear it. The bushes making noise. Well not the bushes, someone pushing the bushes. “Shh. You hear that?” You whispered and put a finger over your mouth signaling for Peeta to not talk. You didn’t have your spear with you.

Brutus appeared out of the bush and you scream, throwing a knife into his bicep. He lunges at you but Peeta steps in between you. They start fighting and it’s all a blur. Then, the lightning strikes.

“Peeta!” You scream as Brutus punches him in the face. You grab a knife and throw it into Brutus’ head, killing him. You grab Peeta. “Are you okay?” You ask and he’s about to answer when the arena starts breaking. “What the hell?”. You and Peeta look for cover and hide under s tree.

“We need to move!” Peeta sys grabbing your writst and running back to the tree. “Katniss! Katniss!” Peeta yells. You want to tell him to shut up but you can’t find the words.

“Peeta!” You hear in the distance.

The arena is breaking around you. Pieces of metal are falling from the sky and you see stars. Oh stars. How you’ve missed them. You think back to the moment the arena broke and you remember seeing an arrow hit the force field. The long coil was connected to it and when it hit the arena it glowed with energy. You and Peeta are ducking from falling things and running when you hear it. The capitol jet. No. No. A claw reaches down for you and Peeta. Peeta looks at you.

“Listen, Peeta. When we get to the capitol, don’t let them break you and don’t die, please. Katniss needs you.” You say as the claw gets closer.

“What about you?” Peeta asks. The claw is closing in now. You can’t think.

“I will fight my hardest.” You pat his cheek and you can see he’s on the verge of tears. A tear rolls down your cheek. You put a hand on your belly as the claw grabs you then another one grabs Peeta.

Part 6

[ssa-dado]

7 - Cogito, ergo Sum

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, sad just sad stuff, angst

Summary: On a train to Riverhead, you confront buried memories of your father’s death and the complex emotions stirred by Peter’s welcome back party, where Hotch’s past with Haley left you feeling like an outsider. Hotch, haunted by memories of his abusive father and first love with Haley, grapples with his choices and regrets. Meanwhile, Hotch and Peter clash over your safety and personal boundaries on the job, discovering the next target of a series of poisonings. Warnings: Grief, domestic violence, emotional abuse, anxiety, CM case. This is quite sad

Word Count: 4.5k

Dado's Corner: Not me sobbing like a kid while writing this haha. Poor Aaron you deserve a hug. That said, I experimented a bit with the style of this chapter - it's quite cinematic. I drew inspiration from Suits' 2×08 where Harvey goes to visit his father's grave and the narrative interlaces flashbacks, present and the characters' point of view so beautifully. Also - this has a sister chapter coming up next so don't worry.

previous chapter ; masterlist

The train rattled gently as it made its way toward your hometown, Riverhead, each passing mile pulling you deeper into a past you had long avoided. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the tracks was a steady, relentless metronome, marking each second that brought you closer to face your father’s grave.

You glanced up to see a little girl holding her father’s hand, her tiny fingers wrapped tightly around his as they made their way to a seat just past yours. The sight was simple, ordinary - something that happened every day - but today, it felt like a punch to the chest.

Watching them, you felt the train become a catalyst for everything you’d been trying to bury; the pain surged, raw and unfiltered, hitting you all at once. The easy affection between them, was a reminder of what you could never have again. Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill as you stared at the floor, trying to swallow the ache of everything you’d lost. In that fleeting moment, the emptiness of your own hands felt unbearable, as if the absence of your father’s presence echoed a thousand times harder in the quiet hum of the train.

You stared out of the window, but the passing trees and fading buildings blurred into the background, their muted colors mingling with the fog of your thoughts. You’d taken the rare step of taking a day off to make this journey, a day that was supposed to be about finding some semblance of closure, or at least confronting the loss you’d tucked away behind your work.

But you hadn’t been able to think only of your father. Your mind kept drifting back to Peter’s welcome back party the previous week. Where you sat at the table, Gideon’s words lingering in the air, the concept of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis feeling painfully apt in that moment.

“Everyone, this is Haley,” Hotch said, his voice carefully controlled. “We… we go way back.”

Only now you could clearly see at how Haley smiled, but her eyes were constantly on Hotch, her presence radiating a sense of ease that only came from years of knowing someone deeply. “It’s been a long time, Aaron,” she said, her tone gentle but layered with unspoken memories. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You watched the interaction with a heavy heart, feeling like an outsider in your own team. The connection between them was undeniable, and for a moment, you felt a pang of jealousy, a sharp twist in your chest that you hadn’t prepared for.

You had just started to let your guard down with Hotch, to allow yourself to see him not just as your stoic coworker who would crack a joke every once in a while - but as someone you could trust, someone who understood you. And now, here was a piece of his past that you hadn’t been privy to, thrown in your face without warning.

As the evening wore on, you tried to engage, to laugh at Rossi’s jokes and nod along with Gideon’s stories, but your mind kept drifting back to Hotch and Haley. You couldn’t help but feel the sting of not knowing this part of him, of realizing that no matter how close you’d gotten, there were still walls between you.

At one point, Hotch caught your eye from across the table. His expression softened, a silent question in his gaze, as if he could sense your discomfort. But before he could say anything, Haley leaned in, pulling his attention back to her, and the moment passed.

Gideon, ever observant, leaned closer to you, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over you.

“You know, Y/N,” he said thoughtfully, tapping the cover of the book you’d bought for Hotch, “Hegel’s all about finding balance. Sometimes, the only way forward is to let go of what you thought you knew and embrace the contradictions.”

You nodded, but the words felt too close to home. You weren’t sure how to find balance in this moment, how to reconcile the sudden wave of emotions crashing over you. All you could do was hold on and hope that, somehow, things would make sense again.

Now your mind was buzzing with a mix of emotions: shock, confusion, and a sinking feeling of being completely blindsided. It was in the way Hotch and Haley exchanged glances, the comfortable proximity, the shared history etched in every small gesture. It hurt more than you’d ever thought it would, making everything sounded distant, muffled, like you were underwater.

The gathering had been a lively affair, full of laughter and shared stories, but a specific moment kept replaying in your mind: Haley’s warm smile as she said goodbye to Hotch, “It was really good to see you, Aaron, I’m glad you’re doing well. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”

Hotch nodded, his expression warm yet tinged with a hint of sadness. “Yeah, Haley. Take care of yourself. See you around.”

With that, she gave a small wave to the table and headed back to her group of friends, leaving Hotch standing there, momentarily lost in the past. As he returned to his seat, you could see the way he was grappling with the emotions stirred up by the unexpected reunion. He caught your gaze briefly, offering a small, almost apologetic smile that only deepened your sense of uncertainty.

As she walked away, Rossi had thrown a smirk Hotch’s way, raising an eyebrow as he quipped, “So, old flames burning bright again?”

Hotch rolled his eyes, though there was a faint, embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Rossi, don’t start,” he warned, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“Oh, come on, Aaron,” Rossi continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Haley’s quite a catch. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little lovestruck.”

Hotch sighed, but there was a softness to his demeanor that hadn’t been there before. “It’s not like that, Dave. We… had our time. It just didn’t work out. She wanted a family, a stable life. I was too caught up in my career, trying to make it into the Bureau. We were just… heading in different directions.”

There was a pause as the table absorbed his words, the rare glimpse into Hotch’s personal life catching everyone a little off guard. You could see the flicker of understanding in his eyes, the acknowledgment of choices made and paths taken, and it resonated deeply with you. It wasn’t just about Haley; it was about the sacrifices, the regrets, and the constant pull between duty and desire.

You had stood on the sidelines, listening, and telling yourself it wasn’t jealousy you felt, but something else entirely. Hotch and Haley’s history was full of things you couldn’t touch, memories you couldn’t rewrite.

The ease between them that felt unreachable, at least for you. It highlighted your own struggles, the way you and Hotch danced around each other’s guarded edges, each too closed off and too stubborn for way too much to admit the walls you’d built were anything but necessary. You had worked hard to break through those barriers, inching closer to something that resembled real friendship with Hotch, but seeing him with Haley made it clear how far you still had to go.

One of your coworkers, ever the instigator, smirked and raised their glass, turning the conversation light again. “Ah, first loves. We’ve all been there, right? High school sweethearts, college crushes, and then… life happens.”

They nudged Peter playfully, their grin widening. “I bet you’ve got some stories, too. You and Y/N? Seems like you two have your own history.”

The comment, though playful, struck a chord. You could feel all eyes momentarily on you and Peter, the unspoken insinuations hanging in the air. Peter chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface. “Oh, come on, let’s not dig up the past. Y/N and I? We were just kids. We studied, we got into trouble, and then we grew up.”

Rossi, always enjoying a chance to stir the pot, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? ‘Just kids,’ huh? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Seems like more than just studying to me.”

Peter shot you a sideways glance, his smile both teasing and sincere. “Well, you know me, Dave. Always mixing business with pleasure.”

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your ears. “Please, don’t encourage him. Peter was more like the annoying older brother I never asked for.”

The table erupted in laughter, and for a moment, the awkwardness eased. But underneath it all, there was a thread of unspoken tension, a reminder that you and Peter’s relationship, much like Hotch and Haley’s, was layered with complexities that no amount of jokes could untangle.

Hotch watched the exchange quietly, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it understanding? Regret? You couldn’t quite tell, but it was clear he was processing his own thoughts amidst the lighthearted teasing. The parallels between his past and what was unfolding now weren’t lost on him.

Then memories shifted, drawing you deeper into the party’s ambiance: the clinking of glasses, the chatter of old friends reuniting, and Peter’s infectious laugh as he moved through the crowd.

You remembered the moment he found you in the corner of the room, handing you a glass of wine with a casual, “So, are you ever going to let me take you out on that date?”

You had laughed it off, deflecting with a joke. “You’d have to catch me when I’m not buried in case files.”

Peter’s smile had softened, and he leaned against the wall beside you, his eyes searching yours in that disarming way he had. “I’m patient. You know that.”

There it was, an offer that seemed perfect on paper. Peter was kind, funny, and someone you could talk to for hours without feeling the need to perform or pretend. He had always been a constant, someone who understood your messy family dynamics and never judged you for them. Yet, for reasons you couldn’t quite name, you had hesitated.

It wasn’t just fear that a relationship might ruin your friendship, though that was part of it. No, this hesitation was something deeper, something that had started to shift within you over the months you’d been at the BAU.

The job had changed you, had made you see the world differently, and maybe that change had rippled into the way you saw Peter, too. He was familiar, a comfort you could rely on, but when he looked at you with that earnestness, you felt a strange dissonance, like you were two notes that no longer harmonized as they once did.

You shook off the thought and turned back to the scenery, trying to refocus. The landscape outside shifted, becoming a blur of rolling hills and scattered houses, but all you could see were memories of the afternoons you’d spent with Peter.

He was a piece of your past that felt safe, steady, and uncomplicated. You remembered the day he’d chosen your mother as his thesis supervisor, the excitement in his eyes as he explained why.

“She’s brilliant,” he had told you, sitting at your kitchen table, his hands animated as he spoke. “I mean, I’ve read everything she’s published. Working with her is like… I don’t know, getting to play with a master.”

Your mother had smirked from the kitchen, where she was brewing tea. “I’m not sure if ‘play’ is the word I’d use,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “But I’m glad you’re eager. I could use someone with your enthusiasm.”

Those afternoons felt like moments frozen in time, filled with academic debates that stretched into the evening. You would sit with Peter, surrounded by books and papers, discussing everything from human behavior to obscure psychological theories. Your mother would occasionally join in, her sharp insights cutting through Peter’s eager optimism, and you would feel an odd sense of belonging, of being seen and understood in a way that was rare. You and Peter fit so easily then, like two pieces of a puzzle that made sense together.

So why now, when Peter had finally asked, did you feel that familiar comfort turn into something that almost felt suffocating? It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was something more complex, more tangled.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but whatever it was, it had kept you from saying yes. Part of you wondered if it had to do with the person you’d become at the BAU, the person who had learned to live in the shadows, to thrive on the unspoken and the unsolved. There was a distance between the you that Peter knew and the you that existed now, and you weren’t sure how to bridge that gap.

As the train chugged closer to Riverhead, you let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of your own thoughts settle in your chest. This trip was supposed to be about your father, about facing the memories you’d buried along with him. But as the scenery continued to blur outside your window, you realized it wasn’t just him you were here to confront. It was yourself, and all the tangled, unresolved things you’d left behind.

.

Back in his apartment, Hotch stood motionless in front of his closet, the faint hum of the city outside barely reaching his ears. It was supposed to be a simple, mindless task: changing out of his work clothes, slipping into something comfortable to signal the end of another long case. But that morning, the weight of the past lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, refusing to be ignored. Seeing Haley again had shaken something loose inside him, memories that he had tried to bury beneath layers of duty, responsibility, and the unyielding armor of his carefully crafted stoicism.

He stared at the closet door as if it were a portal to another time, a past version of himself that he had spent years trying to forget. His hand hovered over a hanger, hesitating before he finally pulled the door open. He reached for a pair of sweatpants, the movement automatic, but his fingers brushed against something unexpected, something soft and familiar. He pulled it out, holding it up to the dim light of the room. It was an old pirate hat, worn and faded, buried at the back of the closet like a forgotten relic.

The sight of it was enough to send a rush of emotion coursing through him, his heart tightening with the weight of memories long left untouched. It was a small, silly thing - a costume piece from a high school play - but it held the echoes of a time when life had felt simpler, when love had been a lifeline rather than a distant, unattainable dream.

Hotch turned the hat over in his hands, his thumb tracing the worn edges. It felt lighter than he remembered, the fabric frayed but still holding the shape that had once made him feel like someone else - someone braver, someone who didn’t wake up every day terrified of what the morning might bring.

Holding it now, he was transported back to those days in high school, when he had first met Haley during their school’s production of The Pirates of Penzance. He could still remember the nerves that twisted his stomach into knots as he stepped onto the stage, feeling every bit the awkward, shy boy who never quite knew how to fit in.

His father’s presence loomed over every aspect of his life, a dark, volatile force that made every day feel like a minefield. Mornings were the worst; he’d wake up before dawn, his heart pounding with the dread that his father would already be up, the stale stench of whiskey on his breath and anger simmering just below the surface.

Every morning, Hotch would lie still in his bed, his ears straining to hear the slightest sound - a creaking floorboard, the clink of a bottle, the unmistakable thud of something heavy being thrown against the wall. He’d close his eyes tightly, his breath catching in his throat as he braced himself for the inevitable: the harsh sound of his father’s voice, slurred and laced with venom, cutting through the stillness of the house like a knife.

“You worthless piece of shit,” his father would sneer, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched. The insults were always the same, a relentless barrage of contempt that felt like punches to the gut. And sometimes, they were. The bruises left behind were easy to hide, but the fear lingered, seeping into every corner of his mind.

But then there was Haley.

Haley, with her bright smile and infectious laugh, had entered his life like a beam of light piercing through the darkness. She was everything his world was not: warm, kind, and unafraid to be herself. He could still see her as she had been that first day, standing backstage with an easy confidence that seemed to light up the entire room. He had been fumbling through his lines, tripping over words as he tried to keep his hands from shaking, feeling the familiar grip of anxiety clawing at his throat. But then she had turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Not bad, Hotchner,” she teased, her voice light and teasing, breaking through the wall of his self-doubt.

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, her touch gentle but grounding. “But if you’re going to be a pirate, you’ve got to look the part.” She reached up and tilted the hat on his head, adjusting it with a flourish. “There. Much better.”

He had laughed then, a rare, unguarded sound that felt almost foreign to his own ears. It was a laugh born of something deeper than humor - it was relief, joy, and a sense of being seen in a way he never had been before. That moment had been the start of everything: the stolen glances, the whispered secrets shared between classes, the way she’d lean in close, her eyes bright with something that made the whole world seem less terrifying.

Haley became his first thought in the morning, replacing the dread that had once greeted him when he opened his eyes. Instead of the anxiety that his father would be there, ready to strike, his mind was filled with thoughts of her: the way she smiled, the sound of her voice, the softness of her lips whenever they kissed, the easy way she’d tease him about his nervousness on stage. She was his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he wasn’t drowning in his own fears.

Every morning, instead of waking up with his heart racing at the thought of his father’s rage, he’d wake up thinking of Haley. He’d think of their rehearsals, of the way she’d roll her eyes when he messed up a line but would always follow it with a grin that told him she was proud of him anyway. She had made him feel safe, like maybe, there was more to life than the fear that had defined his every waking moment.

Hotch hadn’t just fallen in love with Haley; he had clung to her like a lifeline. She was the first person who had shown him what it felt like to be cared for, to be valued for who he was, not for what he could endure. She was his sanctuary from the storm that raged inside his home, and for a while, she had made him believe that he could have something good, something real.

But as he stood there now, holding the hat, those memories were tinged with the bittersweet realization of what he had lost. The love that had once saved him had crumbled under the relentless weight of his ambition and the demands of his career.

He had chosen the Bureau, chosen to bury himself in the pursuit of justice, thinking that if he worked hard enough, if he dedicated himself to the job, he could finally be free of the shadows that haunted him.

But in the process, he had lost Haley. He had lost the last piece of innocence that had made him believe he could balance it all: love, career, and a future untangled from the pain of his past. Now, the hat felt like a symbol of everything he had tried to bury, a reminder of the boy he used to be and the love that had once made him feel whole.

Hotch closed his eyes, a wave of grief and regret washing over him as he placed the hat gently back in the closet. The memories of Haley, of the warmth she had brought into his life, were still there, but they were shrouded in the painful truth that he had let her slip away. He had spent so long running from the fear of his father, trying to replace it with something brighter, but in the end, he had pushed away the very thing that had saved him

The shrill ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present. “Hotchner,” he said, masking the turmoil beneath his usual calm.

Gideon’s voice came through the line, urgent and clipped. “We’ve got a situation. A series of poisonings in Long Island, targeting public spaces. Libraries, parks, shopping centers. It’s escalating, and the unsub’s leaving messages. We need you here, now.”

Hotch glanced back at the pirate hat before slamming the closet shut. “I’ll be there in twenty,” he replied, shoving the memories aside as he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. There was no time to dwell on the past; the present demanded his full attention.

At the BAU, the team gathered around the conference table as Gideon outlined the details of the case. The poisonings were strategic, each attack aimed at places where people gathered, spreading panic through the community. The unsub’s taunts came in the form of cryptic messages, each one hinting at the next target.

Hotch’s jaw tightened as he scanned the crime scene photos, feeling the familiar pull of duty override everything else.

“We’re splitting up,” Gideon said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Hotch, you and Peter will head to the latest crime scene. Rossi and I will cover the first.”

Hotch nodded, his face impassive as he gathered his things. He was already mentally mapping out the approach, compartmentalizing the emotional weight of the morning. But as they drove, Peter, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, tried to break the tension.

“You know, about that bet I won,” Peter began, glancing over at Hotch with a hint of a smile. “The date… with her. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it special.”

Hotch’s eyes stayed fixed on the road, his expression tightening at Peter’s words. The mention of you - the team member who had started to break through the cracks in his own carefully guarded exterior - sent a surge of conflicting emotions through him. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Have you really thought this through?” Hotch asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “You and her, both in the field, both seeing the worst of what people are capable of… it’s not as easy as you think.”

Peter shrugged, trying to maintain his casual demeanor, but there was a defensive edge creeping in. “We’ve always been good at separating things. She gets it - she’s smart, one of the smartest people I know. We can handle it.”

Hotch’s frustration boiled over, his tone sharpening. “It’s not about being smart, Peter. This job… it changes you. It gets into your head, your heart. And you’re fooling yourself if you think it won’t affect you both. What happens when you’re forced to make a choice - her safety or the job? How do you keep that from clouding your judgment?”

Peter’s smile faltered, and his eyes flicked toward Hotch, the beginnings of anger flashing across his face. “You don’t think I know that? You think I haven’t thought about it every damn day since I realized I wanted more with her? At least I’m honest about where I stand. I’m not hiding behind this job like it’s the only thing that matters.”

The tension between them was palpable, the car’s interior charged with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. Hotch’s gaze remained fixed on the road, but his mind was racing. Peter’s words hit closer to home than he cared to admit, scraping against wounds that had never fully healed. Peter’s willingness to embrace his feelings, to take the leap Hotch had always hesitated to make, stung in a way that was hard to articulate.

“You don’t get it, Peter,” Hotch said finally, his voice quieter, more resigned. “You have no idea what it’s like to live with the consequences of those choices. I’ve seen what it does to people, how it tears them apart. This job… it doesn’t let you have a normal life, no matter how hard you try.”

Peter stared at him, searching for something in Hotch’s expression that he couldn’t quite find. “Maybe not. But I’d rather take the risk than spend my life wondering what could have been.”

They lapsed into silence, the argument left hanging between them, unresolved. Hotch felt the weight of Peter’s words settle heavily on his shoulders, mingling with the guilt and regret that had been simmering beneath the surface since seeing Haley again.

He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if he even had the right to. Peter’s defiance, his willingness to fight for what he wanted, was a painful reminder of the choices Hotch had made and the things he had lost in the process.

When they arrived at the crime scene, Hotch pushed all of it down, shoving the emotions into that familiar place he rarely let himself go. The crime scene was chaotic, with officers milling about, evidence markers scattered across the library floor.

Hotch’s keen eyes scanned the room, piecing together the unsub’s method, the subtle clues left behind. But something caught his attention: a bulletin board crowded with flyers and notes, too chaotic at first glance, but hiding something.

He moved closer, pulling back layers of paper until he found it: a cryptic message, written in neat, deliberate script. As he read the words, his blood ran cold, the implications settling like lead in his stomach.

The riddle painted a clear picture of the next target. Hotch’s hands trembled slightly as he stepped back, the reality sinking in.

Riverhead.

The place you were right now.

Without a word, Hotch turned and sprinted out of the building, his heart pounding with a fear that went far beyond the professional. This wasn’t just another case. It was personal, and every second mattered.

[thewritergx]

Caught: Evil!Sam x Demon!FReader

Summary: Blood-drinking Sam Winchester chases you through the woods and fucks you to death (literally).

Warnings: Evil Sam x Demon F!Reader. Smut Containing: Knife/Gun play, running through the woods, NONCON, Anal, Size Kink, Blood drinking, Choking, Crying, Spanking, Forced Orgasms, Death of Reader at the end. Pet Names: Princess, Slut, Whore, Bitch.

Word Count: 3K

Do not read if you are sensitive to the warnings. This is very much a non-consensual interaction. I cannot say this any plainer, do not read this unless you're into some weirdo freak shit.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, steps pounding at the wet dirt and grass. You weaved through trees, stepping over sticks and rocks. You couldn't stop. Stop and you are dead. Sam Winchester was hot on your trail, and if he caught you…You didn't even want to think about what could happen. 

“Can’t run from me forever, little demon,” Sam yelled, his voice a good distance away. 

Your chest was on fire after running for what felt like hours. Maybe you could take a break, his voice sounded pretty echoed. He must be far, you thought. 

You leaned behind a tree, weight on your knees as you bent down trying to slow your panting breaths. You stayed quiet, trying to regain your composure when you heard a stick break a few feet away from you. Fuck.

How was he so fast?

You took off again, running deeper into the forest. 

Sam knew he was close. He could fucking smell your blood. He listened for a while, hearing your quick steps as he chased you into the thickest part of the woods. He knew there would be no one out here. When he caught you, you would be powerless and all his to play with.

You tried to keep running, but you were so exhausted your pace involuntarily slowed with each passing minute. Fuck, you weren’t fast enough. He was going to catch you, you thought.

“Ah, there you are, princess,” Sam growled, watching as you ran right into his chest, hitting him like a brick wall. 

You fell to the ground, hands landing on sharp sticks. 

“Told you, you can't get away from me.” Sam raised his gun, shooting the ground next to you before you could try to run again. You gasp at the sound, the bullet landing a few inches from you. 

“Stay down, bitch.” Sam walked closer, grabbing you and pushing you onto your knees.

“Sam, wait. Wait. Y-you don't have to do this”, you pleaded, fear filling your mind and body. 

Sam hovered over you, his tall frame engulfing the moonlight. His eyes were dark, stoic in the night air. “I know. I don't have to do anything,” Sam huffed, his chest expanding with each breath. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him before throwing a hard punch on your face. Your ears rang and you hit the ground hard, your lip busted and bloody. 

You tried to get up, tried to run but your vision was so blurry you couldn't stand. Sam dropped his gun before grabbing his knife, shoving you on the ground again. 

“Ow, fuck you”, You spit, dirt on your lips as Sam slammed his fist into you again, your face landing hard in the soil.

Sam lowered himself, pushing himself over you as you lay helplessly on your stomach.

“Yeah, you’re about to,” Sam laughed, the smell of your blood thick on his mind. “Fucking slut”. Sam held the cold blade to your throat, watching as you wiggled under him, his thighs on either side of your legs. 

“You know the best fucking part? No one will hear you, no one can save you.” Sam laughed. “You’re stuck out here with me, all mine to completely destroy and devour.”

“Don’t fucking move”, he growled, sliding the knife down your back. Sam lined the cold metal to the hem of your jacket, roughly cutting through it to expose your delicate skin. 

“W-what are you doing”. Your voice was littered with fear, shaky as Sam placed a hand on your bare back, circling his thumb on the delicate skin. 

You struggled under Sam, trying to buck your hips and legs as he pulled your arms back, forcing your jacket and shirt off you. The air was cold, and goosebumps formed on your skin. 

"Cute little bar. Might keep it for later" Sam gently unhooked the clasp, folding it nicely before placing it safely on the ground.

“Stay fucking still or this is going to be a lot worse”, Sam breathed into your ear, biting at your skin. Your skin was on fire, wet dirt and leaves spreading on your tits and stomach. You tried to stay calm, tried to break away from his grip but Sam was double your size. You were completely powerless against him, the weight of his body easily pinning you down. 

“Please,” you cried, the cold metal blade pressing against your back. 

“Bet you taste so fucking good. Such a nice little vessel you're in.” Sam dragged the blade down your spine, cutting into your skin. “Wonder if she can feel this right now”.

“Stop! Get off me!” You screamed, hot blood running down your back. 

“Usually, I would have killed you already”, Sam whispered into your back. “But God, this girl you're wearing, she looks so pure. So nice that I just can't stop myself from ruining her little body.” He leaned down, licking a thick stripe through your blood and sucking at the skin, cut open and dripping for him. “Think I’m gonna leave you alive a little while, fuck you til’ your blood runs dry”.

“No, no, no. Please, y-you can’t” Sam’s teeth dug into your skin, biting at the wound he had just created. 

“Aw, is my little demon scared?” Sam smirked, blood spread across his face. He cut at you again, the knife on a sinister mission.

“Perfect,” Sam whispered, admiring the S.W., carved into your skin. 

The foreign sound of a belt buckle unclicking echoed in the quiet woods. Sam became eerily quiet and mute as you continued to cry and plead for him to let you go. Sam shuffled over you, pulling the belt through his pants loops before dropping it next to you.

“Shh, play nice and I might just let you out of this at the end,” Sam whispers in your ear, lightly caressing your hair and kissing your neck. 

You nod your head, finally accepting the situation you found yourself suffering in. 

“Good. Good little whore.” Sam’s voice is now soft and relaxed. His hands travel to your ass, cupping your cheeks over your jeans. He scoots down, pulling himself off your body so he can rip the thick denim material down, leaving them bunched up under your knees. 

Cold air strikes your now bare skin and you swallow hard, heart pounding harder than your earlier footsteps. His hands traveled to your waist, pulling you back on him and arching your ass off the ground. 

“Look at those pretty panties,” Sam hisses, dragging the knife to your folds. “What’s this huh?” Sam’s jaw clenches and he presses the dull end of the blade in between your lips, pointing out the wet spot created by your dripping arousal. You feel him grab the thin material, ripping it off your body with his bare hands. 

“You must like this, fucking dirty girl” Sam pulls you harder against him, grabbing your hands and placing them behind your back. You can’t help but rut against him, the large bulge in his pants pressing against your clit.

“I-I d-don’t. Please just let me go”. Tears stream down your face, your back stinging and leaves crunching with every movement you make. 

“Why would I do that? You’re nothing”. Sam’s fingers work quickly, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. "Nothing, but my little cum dump".

Your breathing hitches as he pulls his jeans down, pulling his dick out. 

“No! D-Don’t, please. Please don't put that in me.” You scream, kicking your feet as Sam grabs his dick. He snakes his hand under your waist, pulling you off the ground as he teases your clit, rubbing the head of his penis against your clit. 

You clench your eyes shut and push your hands back, placing them against his stomach. 

“Shut the fuck up. Move your goddamn hands before I fucking break them,” he growls, pressing the tip of his penis against your tight little hole.

“Pl-please,” you whine, quickly removing your hands and returning them to their previous position on your back. You feel Sam press against you and your eyes widen, the feeling of his thick tip already stretching you out. Fuck, he was huge. 

“Oh fuck,” Sam presses against you, opening your legs wider as he sinks in deeper, bottoming out inside you completely. 

“Stop, please”, you cry, tears streaming down your soft rosy cheeks. 

“Aw, pretty girl doesn’t like my dick?” Sam laughed, quickly leaning down to wrap his thick fingers around your neck. He thrust into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size. “You may not, but I bet your vessel is loving this. Do you feel how wet she is? She’s already creaming my fucking dick, painting it all white.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth, each thrust landing hard on your cervix. 

“Sam, p-please just l-let me go. I-I won't tell. I swear, I'll do-” Your eyes shoot open in fear as Sam squeezed around your throat, pressing so hard you couldn’t breathe in or out.

“S-s” You tried to speak, his grip growing tighter and tighter until you were seeing stars, all dizzy and the light in the room fading. 

“Hey, no passing out on me,” Sam growled, quickly removing his hand. “How would I be able to hear those pretty cries if you're knocked out?” 

You breathed heavily, coughing as he finally let go, his fingers leaving dark bruises behind. You try to calm down again, but the way he was thrusting into you was driving you crazy. 

“Fuck!” you screamed, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. 

“See, I know you fucking love this cock. Feel you tightening around me. You're about to cum, huh? Go ahead. Cum on my dick, you stupid fucking slut”, Sam leaned down, biting your neck so hard you felt him drawing blood. His sharp teeth pierced deeper into your skin, hot breath on your neck as he licked and sucked the open skin. 

“Ahh, ow!” You scream, your voice echoing off the trees. You hated that he made cum, hated that you couldn't stop the pleasure forced through you. 

“That’s a good little whore. Like when I fucking rape this cunt, huh?” Sam shoved himself deeper. “Say you fucking love it.” He yelled, slapping your ass hard. 

“Fuck you,” You cried, voice filled with venom. 

Sam grabbed the belt from your side, quickly slapping it hard against your asscheek. “I said, say you fucking love it”. He slapped you again, your skin screaming for help, bright red lines marking you. 

“I-I l-love it,” you whispered into the ground, tears falling into your mouth, leaving behind a taste of salt. 

“Louder. Like you fucking mean it,” Sam hissed, slapping the belt against you so hard it drew blood. 

“Ow! Okay, I fucking love it! I love your huge dick fucking me,” You wailed, throat dry and voice hoarse from running. 

“Such an obedient fuck slut.” Sam threw his head back, eyes clenched as he pulled comply out of you. 

“Wonder if you’d like it that much…here” Sam pressed against your ass, your tight hole clenching as he shoved a thick finger inside. “I bet this vessel never got her ass fucked before.” Sam laughed, pumping his finger in and out, stretching you like you never had been before. “She’s fucking tight, huh.” He laughed, shoving another finger inside you. 

“No, y-you can’t. It's too big”, you yelped, trying to pull yourself off the ground again. 

“Stop”, Sam demanded, his tone littered with anger and hatred for you. He grabbed his gun, placing it against your temple as he lined his dick up with your ass. 

“Stay fucking still and I won't shoot you,” The cold metal pressed against your skin hard. You trembled, your legs shaking and you swore you were going to throw up.

“Yes sir,” you nodded, forcing yourself to arch your back again, perfect position for him to sink inside you. 

“Good”, Sam’s voice is plain, emotionless as he presses into your tight puckered hole. 

“OW!” You yelp, his thick cock stretching you. Your skin burned and it felt like he was ripping into you.

“F-fuck” Sam slammed into you, your freshly used walls clenching around him so tight he almost couldn't move. “Yeah, this ass is all mine. Never had anything like me before,” he smirked, watching as his dick disappeared inside you, balls pressed against the soft fat of your ass. 

He snapped his hips, a hard slapping sound echoing in the air. Your eyes rolled back, and the feeling of him pressing so deep, practically in your stomach, was too much. Fuck, it was torture but you craved more, your body easily opening from him to pump in and out of.

“Please, j-just take it o-out.” You were exhausted completely. Even at full strength, you would have never been able to fight him off. “P-please, Sam. Ju-just c-cum”. You begged and pleaded for him to finish.

Sam gripped the gun tighter, pressing it against you impossibly harder. He dragged it down your body, finger on the trigger. He thought about not shooting you, he really did. But he knew it would be so pretty watching you bleed out on the ground as he fucked you. So before he could think, before he could stop himself, he was pressing the trigger, a bullet ripping through your smooth skin and into your chest. 

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Your only thought about how stretched out and deep Sam was fucking you as you choked on your own blood. You couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the orgasm ripping through you as you bled out, your legs shaky and week.

“That’s it,” Sam growled, his hips spurting out of rhythm but still impossibly deep. “Dumb fuck toy, letting me do whatever I want to her”. 

Sam huffed, throwing the gun on the ground and digging his fingers into your sides. He watched as your blood pooled, your choking sounds sending him into euphoria. 

“Fuck” His grip tightened around you and he bit his bottom lips hard, thrusting deep and finally painting your walls white. 

“Such a shame.” Sam laughed, pulling out of you roughly, his cum dripping from your stretched-out hole. “Could have kept you around, but what would be the fun with a slutted out whore?” Sam watched as you withered on the ground, blood smearing all over him as he leaned against your ear.

“You were a good little fuck, though. Don't get me wrong.” He whispered, pressing his fingers inside the whole left by the bullet, pushing through your skin with a squelching pain. He watched as blood soaked his fingers, quickly licking the hot liquid clean. “Hmm, should have fucked that whole,” he mumbled, before stabbing you with his demon blade. 

Your eyes shot open and white light shined from your body, killing you and leaving your vessel in the woods. 

[batneko]

okay, time to actually type up my thoughts on this AU! With some new art to make it worth it.

for context, here's part one and part two.

so the basics are, Bowser is continually trying to conquer the city and being fought off by the bros, who do have superpowers (I thought about drawing lightning around Luigi's fist but I don't know how to make that look good in lineart) and costumes and "hero names," but don't hide their faces so they don't exactly have secret identities. It's more like being an actor with a stage name. Since they're fairly average-looking dudes they don't get recognized all the time, especially when they're apart, but Mario definitely does more often than Luigi.

But even when they're not recognized by the starbucks barista, people expect a lot of them. Not just stopping Bowser, but stopping everyday problems, rescuing cats from trees or standing in for a broken TV antenna. Eventually the pressure gets to Mario and he decides to fake his death and make a run for it. He's not really thinking clearly at the time and he regrets it almost immediately, but he can't bring himself to go back and face everyone's disappointment. He needs to figure himself out first.

He does at least contact Luigi as soon as he's out of the city to reassure him he's not dead. He doesn't tell him where he's going though, and Luigi can't contact him back, he has to wait for Mario to call, so Luigi does genuinely miss him and can fake grief when he needs to without too much prompting.

Bowser, meanwhile, was genuinely not expecting to "kill" his greatest rival. He never really wanted Mario dead, he just wanted the city! But he's not going to let this opportunity pass him by- Or so he thinks, until he's beaten into a pulp by the other hero that he usually forgot about.

Okay, fine, Bowser can still work with this. Heal up, regroup, give it another try- Aaaand this time he's ganged up on by three heroes he's never even seen before. What the heck is happening?

Turns out that without Mario's charismatic leader act keeping everyone reassured (and complacent), a bunch of people are stepping into the gap. Luigi, Peach, Daisy, probably more than one Toad or Yoshi... Bowser can't plan for this! They all have different powers, different strategies, different types of banter. He's overwhelmed.

So Bowser gets the idea that he needs just one hero to fight. Maybe with a sidekick, but still. That way he can time his cool speeches and minimize the amount he gets punched in the face. He already killed one of them, maybe if he works his way through the others one at a time he'll finally win. Eventually. Someday.

He gets the super crown disguise watch (I still haven't decided if there's a real guy whose appearance and name he is copying) and finds his first hero. Mario's sidekick. Should be the easiest one to fight, right? Bowser just needs to convince him that it's better for everyone if the city only has one hero at a time. It's about continuity. It'll reassure them. Give them a symbol.

Unfortunately for Bowser (and fortunately for us) Luigi is way too nice a guy to chase off some random bear person just for recognizing him and having Opinions about all this hero stuff. Luigi talks to him, addresses his concerns, answers his questions, and the guy is actually surprisingly willing to listen. Most people who try to tell him how to do his job don't care about facts and logic!

Next thing Bowser knows, he's been invited for coffee next week. That's... fine, right? This is progress! It's not a date, it's just getting close to his target! And it's definitely not a problem that Luigi is really cute and sweet and patient and has big blue eyes and a nice smile and the warmth of his handshake lingered for the rest of the afternoon...

Everything is totally fine! 👍