#janes true form

[bacchuschucklefuck]

it just idea .......

[junebudgie]

GUYSSSS!!!!!!!!🩵🩵

MY JANIE SHIRT CAME!!!🩵🩵🩵

witewally me^^

[sn0wcake]

Comphet ace gay tavros u will always b canon to me <3

[chansdoll]

방찬 x 한 x you ─── needy

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] dom!bangchan x sub!han x sub afab!reader . hard dom!chan, brief sub x sub , praise kink , degradation kink , degrading praise , dirty talk , name calling , teasing , oral (m. & f. rec) , face fucking , hair pulling , overstimulation , cunt slapping , use of sex toy , aftercare at the end ♡ ♡ synopsis ― bored and horny, you decide to play with jisung while you wait for chan. however, it doesn't go as planned. [ 5.6k words ] ♡ ― this took me so long because i got caught up with work n had motivation problems.. im so sorry if this is bad jfdklsjgkflf semi proofread. ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

you lay sprawled on your bed, fresh from a warm shower. the soft scent of lilies clung to your skin, and your pretty nightgown flowed loosely around you, paired with fuzzy socks that added to your cozy look. it was a quiet, almost too quiet, night. jisung was in his room across the hall, unusually silent, and chan was still at the studio, leaving the house with an air of emptiness that made you feel a bit lonely.

as if sensing your mood, han peeked into your room. his soft footsteps barely made a sound, but when his gaze landed on you, lying on your stomach with your phone in hand, his expression melted. you looked up at him, your face lighting up with a warmth that made his heart flutter.

“hi, sungie!” you chirped, sitting up on your knees and smiling brightly.

“hi,” he replied softly, stepping inside and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. his hands fidgeted slightly as he glanced at you. “what are you doing?”

“just scrolling,” you said, holding up your phone. without hesitation, you shifted closer, curling up beside him as you opened the app you’d been browsing. “look at these shoes! aren’t they cute?” your eyes sparkled as you showed him a pair of pastel pink platform mary janes, your excitement contagious.

han’s lips curved into a small, fond smile. “you’d look adorable in them,” he murmured, his hand drifting to rest gently on your thigh. his fingers brushed the hem of your nightgown as he spoke, the tender gesture warming you further. “i’ll tell chan to get them for you when he finally gets home—if he ever does.”

you huffed, a playful pout forming on your lips as you set your phone on the nightstand. “he’s been working late too much lately,” you grumbled, leaning back into the pillows dramatically.

han laid down beside you, propping his head on his hand as he watched you. “at least he warned us this time instead of waking us up at 3 a.m. banging around the kitchen,” he teased, his tone lighthearted.

you giggled at the memory, your pout giving way to a smile. “true. that was the worst. i almost threw a pillow at him.”

han chuckled, his face softening as he rested his cheek against the pillow. his fingers absentmindedly spun the silver ring on his finger while his eyes lingered on your face, admiring your playful demeanor. 

“still, he’s so mean for making me wait!” you whined, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of han’s shirt. the soft fabric twisted between your fingertips as your pout deepened. “especially when i’m so…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as the words caught in your throat.

han tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his gaze as he waited for you to continue. a sly idea sparked in your mind, and you bit your lip before finishing your thought with a quiet, mischievous tone. “…horny.”

han’s face flushed instantly, his eyes widening as if your words had jolted life into him. he blinked, struggling to process, his gaze flickering over you before landing back on your face. “you’re… but channie isn’t…” he began to stammer, his voice soft and unsure.

you placed a finger to his lips to shush him, your grin widening with playful mischief. “what if,” you suggested, crawling closer to him, “we played a little? just while we wait for channie to come home.” you knelt beside him on the bed, your eyes glinting with anticipation as you watched him wrestle with your proposal.

han’s face was a shade of pink that rivaled the shoes you’d shown him earlier. his gaze traveled down your form, hesitant and thoughtful, before he looked back up to meet your eyes. “but what if he gets mad?” he whispered, as if chan could somehow overhear your scheming.

your grin turned into a smirk, a spark of daring lighting up your features. “that’s what makes it more fun, hannie!” you teased, your voice bubbling with excitement.

han’s lips parted as if to protest, but he quickly closed them, his blush deepening as he fidgeted with the hem of his own shirt. “um… okay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “but i’m not really feeling, uh, dominant right now…”

you nodded, leaning down so your face was close to his, your voice soft and coaxing. “me neither. but we can make it work, right?” you tilted your head, your expression hopeful as you sought his approval.

han swallowed hard, his fidgeting slowing as he considered your words. finally, he nodded, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “mhm. yeah, w-we can.”

without another word, you leaned down, running your soft hands along his chest, and giving him tender kisses on his lips. he let out a soft moan in response, leaning into you immediately. 

you felt a spark of exhilaration coursing through you, a mixture of excitement and mischief that left your heart racing. the thought alone—breaking from your usual routine, giving in to this shared craving without waiting for chan—was equal parts thrilling and nerve-wracking.

usually, the three of you would play together. it was a dynamic you were used to, one that felt safe and familiar. you and han would put on a playful show for chan when he got home, teasing and coaxing him into joining. but now, this was different. you weren’t waiting.

the idea was so naughty, so completely against the unspoken rules you’d all naturally fallen into. it sent a shiver through you, equal parts apprehension and desire. the risk made it even hotter—knowing that chan might come home at any moment, that he might catch you in the act, might see how you and han had caved to your shared need before he could take control of the situation.

han seemed to be feeling the same rush, his nervous fidgeting giving way to a subtle shift in his expression. he wasn’t bold by nature, but there was something in his eyes now—a flicker of curiosity, of shared rebellion—that matched the spark in your own.

this wasn’t your first time playing with jisung, not by a long shot. the two of you had shared plenty of intimate moments before, exploring each other’s desires under chan’s guidance or as part of your playful trio. you were no strangers to each other’s touches, no strangers to the way your chemistry crackled when the mood struck.

but this? this was different. you’d never done this together when both of you were feeling like this—soft, shy, hesitant, both naturally leaning toward the same submissive energy. there was no one to take the lead, no steady hand or commanding voice to guide you.

in a frenzy of passion, you and jisung were already intertwined and touching each other. your movements were needy and hurried, driven by an insatiable desire for each other. you clung to him, wrapping your body around his as you straddled him. whimpers escaped your lips as you ground against him through his sweatpants.

jisung was already achingly hard, unable to resist the urge to touch and be touched by you. "y/n," he whispered desperately, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he guided your movements. "sungie," you moaned in response, leaning forward and clinging onto the pillows in an attempt to steady yourself.

his hands roamed upwards, pushing up your nightgown to reveal your light pink panties that were now rubbing against his hardened member with fervent urgency.

his voice was laced with sweetness as he asked, "can i see you, y/n?" you nodded eagerly, a giddy excitement bubbling in your chest. his hands clenched the bottom of your nightgown, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.

now clad only in fuzzy socks and panties, you resumed grinding against him, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his clothes. with each movement, he grew more flushed and his hands became bolder and more eager, exploring every inch of your skin with an intoxicating fervor. his fingertips dug into your breasts, pinching and teasing your nipples, while his palms kneaded and caressed your flesh.

lost in your heated touches and kisses, both you and jisung missed the text from chan, announcing that he’d be leaving a couple hours early. “lemme taste you,” han said shyly, slight pleading laced in his voice. he tugged a little on your panties and you whined at his words. “mmh, okay, hannie.” you giggled, rolling off him for a moment and pushing your panties off. 

he laid back against the bed, head by the foot-end, waiting eagerly for you to sit on his face. you crawled up, your soft, velvety thighs on either side of his head as you hesitantly hovered above his waiting mouth.

 he wrapped his arms around your thighs and impatiently yanked you down, immediately latching his mouth to your sopping cunt. his mouth worked urgently, his tongue swiped over your wet folds quickly, drinking you in. 

you let out a shocked moan, watching him bury his face in your mound. he flicked his tongue on your clit, the lewd noises making you both blush. “oh-oh, hannie, right there!” you cried, reaching down and gripping his hair in an attempt to hold his head still. 

lost in pleasure, you began to desperately ride his face, grinding your clit onto his tongue, your hips rolling quickly. you didn’t even notice that one of han’s hands left your thigh to pull his leaking cock out and stroke it. he whimpered against your cunt, his hand pumping furiously around his length as he ate you up like he was starving. 

“sungie, i’m s-so close,” you panted, tugging on his hair with both strands as you chased your orgasm. he let out a choked moan in response, too consumed by you to respond coherently. he cried against your flesh, only adding vibrations and heightening your pleasure. 

with a cry, you came, falling forward and gripping onto the footboard until your knuckles turned white, your overstimulated cunt still grinding up against han’s swollen lips. he made out with your sex, too pussydrunk to pull away on his own. you let out a weak whine, finally looking up from the floor to see chan standing in the doorway.

your breath hitched, and you pulled yourself off han’s mouth, making him whine from the loss of you. “y/n,” he pouted, before following your gaze. he blushed and tried to cover himself up. 

chan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the scene before him. his expression was unreadable, a mixture of disappointment, frustration, and something darker simmering beneath the surface. the intensity of his presence was enough to make you freeze, your hands faltering on the footboard as the weight of the situation settled over you.

“what,” chan’s voice was calm, low, and dangerously controlled, “do you two think you’re doing?”

jisung shifted uncomfortably, still flushed and disheveled. you squeaked, grabbing the nearest blanket to cover yourself as you avoided chan’s piercing gaze.

“channie, i—” you began, your voice trembling, but he held up a hand to silence you.

“i don’t remember giving either of you permission to start without me,” he said, his tone sharp but measured. he stepped into the room, his movements deliberate, his presence filling the space. “is that how we do things now? you just… indulge yourselves while i’m gone?”

jisung whimpered, sitting up on the bed with his head bowed, propped up on his elbow. “we didn’t mean to—”

“didn’t mean to?” chan cut him off, his voice rising slightly, though still calm. “because it looks to me like you knew exactly what you were doing. both of you.”

he turned his gaze to you, and the weight of his stare made you squirm. “look at me,” he commanded, his voice firm. slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his, your cheeks burning with shame.

“do you know how disappointed i am?” he continued, his tone softer now but no less commanding. “i expect better from both of you. you know the rules, don’t you?”

“yes, channie,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“then why did you break them?” his question hung in the air, and the silence that followed felt oppressive.

“we were just…” jisung tried to explain, but the words faltered on his tongue.

chan let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took a few more steps into the room, his commanding presence never wavering. “you’re both going to make this up to me,” he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. “but first, you’re going to tell me exactly why you thought this was a good idea.”

his eyes flicked between you and jisung, his gaze expectant. neither of you dared to speak at first, the tension thick in the room.

“well?” he prompted, crossing his arms again. “i’m waiting.”

“i was just so.. worked up, and.. you weren’t gonna be home for a few hours..” you trailed off, a blush of embarrassment painting your cheeks. 

chan was well aware that you were the instigator. han would never have dared to break the rules on his own; he was easily swayed into mischief, especially if it meant indulging in moments with you. chan knew exactly who the true brat between the two of you was.

his eyes roamed over you and jisung, and a playful twinkle sparked in his eye, as if he noticed something. 

he walked over to you both, tsking. “you two made quiet the mess, didn’t you?” he said lowly, eyes flicking from you to han, who was tugging his shirt down over his tummy for the life of him. “what? no..” you objected, straightening up. chan reached you both, pulling han’s shirt up to reveal his cum-covered stomach. 

“are you sure?” he asked, a brow raised. you bit your tongue, your heart thumping. han must of came while you were sitting on his face. you looked from the mess on his stomach to look at han. han blushed, avoiding eye contact with both of you. 

“clean him up,” chan said firmly, his eyes not leaving yours. “wh-what?” you stuttered, clutching the blanket to your chest. “you heard me,” he took the blanket from around your body, tossing it on the other side of the bed, before petting the back of your head. “clean him up.” 

you swallowed hard, crawling back towards jisung on trembling hands and knees. both of your faces were flushed a deep shade of red, feeling exposed and caught in this intimate moment. but you trusted chan, knowing he would never make you do something you didn't want to do. and you all had established a safeword to use if things ever got too intense.

seeing chan worked up and angry only added to the heat pooling between your thighs. jisung bit his lip, watching as you leaned forward and stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets of his release that had landed on his stomach. you took your time, savoring the taste and the sensation of your tongue against his skin.

as you bent down to clean up the mess, a hand glided over your inner thigh, causing you to shiver with anticipation. chan was teasingly prodding at your swollen pussy, gauging just how aroused you were. his touch sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

suddenly, you felt a sharp sting on your sex, causing you to yelp and jolt. "such a dirty girl, playing without me.." chan almost growled, rubbing your clit with agonizing slowness. you couldn't help but whimper quietly, peeking back at him with pleading eyes. he met your gaze, his own dark with lust and something else that made your heart race even faster. "quiet," he ordered firmly before giving your cunt another stinging slap.

you bit back a moan, squeezing your eyes shut. han squirmed, the scene in front of him daring to make him hard once again. “play with han while i play with your little cunt,” he instructed, dipping behind you on the bed. you looked up at han, who was still a shy, fidgety mess. 

as you leaned forward, your heart raced at the intensity of the situation. you were hyper aware of every sound in the room—the rustle of fabric, the low hum of chan’s steady breathing behind you, and the soft, stifled noises jisung made as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock.

jisung shuddered beneath you, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he tried to keep still. his lips parted as a quiet whimper escaped, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the reaction you drew from him.

behind you, chan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer to him as his other hand explored the wetness between your thighs. his touch was calculated, purposeful, and every slow stroke sent sparks shooting through your body.

“look at you,” chan murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “so eager to please now that you’ve been caught. where was all this obedience earlier?”

you moaned softly against jisung, the vibrations making him squirm under your touch. chan’s hand gripped your hair, tugging your head up slightly to make you pause. “i asked you a question,” he said, his tone sharper now.

“s-sorry, channie,” you stammered, your voice breathless.

“sorry isn’t going to cut it,” he said, letting go of your hair and giving your ass a sharp slap that made you yelp. “you’re going to show me you’re sorry.”

he spread you open further, his fingers sliding into you effortlessly as he worked you with precision. you gasped, struggling to focus on jisung, whose flushed face and trembling hands showed he was on the verge of losing himself.

“eyes on him,” chan ordered, his fingers curling inside you just right. “he’s your responsibility now. make him feel good while i remind you who you belong to.”

you nodded quickly, returning your attention to jisung as your hand wrapped around his base, your lips sliding down his length with practiced ease. he whined, his cock becoming fully hard now due to your ministrations. he bucked his hips slightly, unable to control his reactions, his shy demeanor melting away as pleasure overtook him.

chan’s rhythm behind you was relentless, his free hand gripping your waist tightly to hold you in place. he leaned forward, his breath warm against your skin. “that’s it,” he purred, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “such a good little whore, aren’t you?”

your body was alight with sensation, torn between the overwhelming pleasure chan was giving you and the thrill of hearing jisung’s soft, broken cries as he teetered on the edge. 

the room was suffused with heat, every motion and sound building the intensity between the three of you. jisung's broken whimpers filled the air as he trembled beneath you, his body straining against the pleasure you were giving him.

behind you, you heard the clinking of metal and the shuffle of fabric, you could only assume he was freeing himself from his pants. chan’s grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the heat of his body pressing closer to yours.  

you gasped softly, feeling his cock brush against your slick lips, and he ground himself against them, lubricating himself.  before you could respond, chan leaned over you, his breath warm against your back as his fingers dug into your waist. “keep your focus on hannie, baby.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you nodded obediently, your lips wrapping around jisung’s cock again, savoring the way he moaned your name in soft, desperate breaths. his hips bucked slightly, and you held him steady, your hand stroking him in tandem with your mouth.  

chan shifted behind you as he guided himself to your entrance. the blunt, thick head of his cock pressed against your soaked folds, and you tensed in anticipation, your body already aching to feel him fill you.  

“relax,” chan whispered, his hand stroking your back in a fleeting moment of gentleness. then, with one smooth thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. a sharp cry escaped your lips, muffled around jisung as the sudden fullness sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you.  

chan groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch. “you’re squeezing me, baby,” he rasped, his voice rough with need. “mm.. f-fuck.”  

you whimpered against jisung, your body trembling as chan began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one drawing a broken moan from your lips. jisung was a writhing mess beneath you, his hands clutching at the sheets as his own pleasure built.  

“don’t stop,” chan growled, his pace quickening, his voice sending a thrill through you. “make him come for me. show him how good you are.”  

driven by his command, you redoubled your efforts on jisung, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring him closer to the edge. the sounds of his moans and chan’s deep, guttural groans blended into a symphony of raw, unrestrained desire.  

every thrust from chan sent you spiraling further into bliss, your body caught between the overwhelming pleasure of being filled by him and the intoxicating power of watching jisung fall apart under your touch.  

“such a perfect little thing,” chan murmured, his voice strained as his movements grew rougher. jisung sat up, little whimpers leaving his lips as he neared release. he propped himself up on his elbow with one arm, the other hand leaving the sheets to grip your hair. “a-ah, g-gonna cum,” he whined, his brows knitting together.

chan leaned forward, pushing your head slightly. “take all of him, or i pull out right now,” he ordered, his voice low and intimidating. you whimpered in response, but you obeyed, leaning down and deepthroating jisung. 

his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell back against the bed once again, both hands gripping your hair as he thrusted up into your throat. “c-coming!” he cried, holding your head down, your nose touching his base as he erupted in your throat. chan’s pace was unrelenting, he kept ramming into you as you throated han. 

you gagged and coughed, your eyes watering as you looked up at jisung. chan growled, slapping your ass harshly, making the sound almost echo in the room. he dug his nails into your stinging skin, making you yelp around jisung’s overstimulated cock. “swallow it all..” chan demanded, his voice hoarse. 

you obeyed and swallowed all you could, then licked any remainders off han’s length. han panted, nearly boneless underneath you and chan, his eyes glazed over. 

chan pulled out momentarily, his hands still on your hips. “sung, come here.” he said firmly as han tucked himself back into his sweatpants shyly. chan whispered in han’s ear for a few seconds, before turning his attention back to you as han left the room. he helped flip you onto your back, using his hands to part your pretty thighs. 

“there’s my dirty little girl,” he ran his hands up your sides, before groping and kneading your tits. “sungie’s getting you a surprise,” he grinned, squeezing your mounds roughly. your heart raced in anticipation, and as if on cue, han returned, a wand vibrator in hand.

you whined, knowing what was coming. “no, channie, please, i-” 

chan interrupted you with a sharp slap to your cunt, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “you don’t get a say.” he growled, gripping your thighs and tugging you closer to him. “you lost that when you decided to be a bad girl and play without me.” you whimpered, biting your lip as he caught his dick with his thumb and pushed it back inside you. 

jisung looked down at you with a sympathetic look as he sat next to you on the bed. he felt bad that you were getting the punishment, even though technically you did start it. chan’s strokes were slow, deliberate, and teasing. his strong, veiny hands pushed your thighs down against your torso, practically folding you in half. 

“do it, han.” chan said, making sure to give han access to between your legs. han turned on the massager, putting it on the highest setting. he dragged it against your pubic bone before pressing it to your clit right away. you cried out, whimpering. your cunt fluttered around chan, earning a quiet groan of satisfaction from him. 

chan leaned back, giving han room to press it firmer against your skin. you clawed at the bedding under you, your thighs shaking violently. “n-no, too much!” you gasped, looking up at chan with pleading eyes. he just smirked, speeding up his pace, short pants and breathless moans occasionally leaving his lips. “you say no,” he started, he fingertips digging into your inner thighs. “but your little cunt is saying the opposite, babygirl. gripping me so good, fuck,” 

han pressed the vibrator firmer on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. your legs couldn’t stop shaking, and you were sure you were starting to see stars. 

your body trembled as the relentless sensations built, overwhelming you completely. the combination of chan’s unyielding thrusts and the intense vibrations against your clit sent you hurtling over the edge. a choked scream tore from your lips as your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and clutching desperately at the sheets.

your walls clenched tightly around chan, drawing a low, guttural moan from him as he fought to maintain control. “that’s it, good girl,” he growled, his pace never faltering. “come for me—show me how much you can take.”

but even as your body spasmed and your release soaked his cock, neither of them stopped. the vibrator pressed insistently against your oversensitive clit, and chan’s movements only seemed to grow rougher, pushing you past the threshold of pleasure into the realm of overstimulation.

“p-please, channie,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body writhed beneath them. “i can’t—it’s too much!”

chan’s eyes darkened with lust as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “you can, and you will,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dominance. “i’ll decide when you’ve had enough.”

han, emboldened by chan’s control, kept the vibrator pressed firmly to your swollen clit, his own breath hitching as he watched your every reaction. “she looks so pretty like this,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushed with heat.

chan smirked, his hand trailing up your trembling thigh to grip your waist. “she loves it,” he said, his tone firm and confident. “don’t you, baby? you love being pushed past your limits.”

a strangled moan escaped your lips as another wave of pleasure threatened to crest, your overstimulated body betraying you. your hips bucked uncontrollably, chasing the sensations even as they overwhelmed you.

“look at her,” chan continued, his voice laced with pride as he pistoned in and out of you. “she’s taking it so well—my perfect little slut.”

the praise sent shivers down your spine, and before you could protest again, the coil in your tummy snapped once more, a second orgasm crashing into you with devastating force. your cries filled the room as your body convulsed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

still, chan didn’t stop, his cock driving into you with relentless precision, and the vibrator continued to torment your overstimulated clit. the intensity was unbearable, your mind teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” chan murmured, his tone softening just enough to make you feel both cared for and completely under his control. “you can take it. i know you can.”

your body was trembling uncontrollably, every nerve alight with sensation as chan and han worked you mercilessly. the overwhelming combination of chan's deep, unrelenting thrusts and the vibrator against your throbbing clit had you sobbing with pleasure. you had lost track of how many times you’d come, your body wrung out and still teetering on the edge of another release.

“p-please,” you sobbed, your voice cracking with desperation. “it’s too much… i can’t—”

“can’t?” chan repeated mockingly, his smirk dark and unyielding. he leaned down, capturing your tear-streaked face with his intense gaze. “you’ve been saying that for a while now, sweetheart, but look at you.” he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that made your back arch and another broken cry spill from your lips. “you’re still taking it so well. you were made for this.”

“come on, baby,” chan said, his voice low and laced with hunger. his thrusts grew rougher, each one pushing you closer to the breaking point.

your body arched off the bed as the pressure in your core became unbearable. your moans turned into cries, your legs trembling uncontrollably as another orgasm ripped through you. but even as you came, chan didn’t stop. the overstimulation sent shockwaves through your entire body, making you sob as the vibrator continued to torment your oversensitive clit.

“channie, i—” you tried to form words, but they dissolved into a choked scream as the pressure in your core shifted. the sensation was overwhelming, a heat spreading through you as your body teetered on the brink of something even more intense.

“let go,” chan growled, his pace unrelenting. “come on, sweetheart, one more big one. that’s it.”

han’s expression was full of anticipation as he watched you, his hand caressing the inside of your thigh. 

before he could say something, the dam broke. a gush of liquid escaped you, soaking chan’s thighs and the sheets beneath you as your body convulsed in release. a strangled moan tore from your lips as you completely unraveled, your mind blank and your body overwhelmed by the force of your climax.

“fuck, that’s it,” chan groaned, his hips stuttering as he watched you squirt, his grip on your thighs firm but steadying. “that’s my good girl.”

“are you okay, jagi?” han asked, his voice filled with awe and concern. he reached out hesitantly, running his fingers gently along your trembling thighs. as chan slowed down, giving you time to recuperate. 

you gave him a slow, tiny nod as you lay there, utterly spent, your chest heaving as your body twitched from the aftershocks. chan resumed, gradually speeding back up and giving you the option to tap out if need be. 

chan's thrusts resumed at a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your every reaction. his grip on your thighs was firm but gentle, ensuring you stayed grounded even as the intensity built once more. your body trembled under him, every nerve still raw and sensitive, but the way he looked at you—equal parts adoration and desire—kept you anchored.

“just a little more, sweetheart,” chan murmured, his voice low and soothing. “you can take it. almost done.”

han stayed close by, his hand still stroking your thigh in comforting circles, his expression soft with concern and admiration. “you’re doing so well, jagiya,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. 

the pace of chan’s hips quickened as his breathing became heavier. his hands slid up to hold your hips, pulling you closer with each thrust. you whimpered softly, your body instinctively responding despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

“i’m close,” chan groaned, his voice strained. he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “just stay with me, baby. almost there.”

with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, chan buried himself fully inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he reached his peak. his hips stilled as he released, warmth spreading through you as he held you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. he littered soft kisses on your jawline and cheeks, then ending them on your lips. 

for a moment, the room was quiet except for the sound of your combined heavy breathing. chan stayed still, letting you both come down from the intensity. then he carefully pulled out, making sure not to cause you any discomfort. han immediately went to go get a warm, damp towel, then he returned, gently pressing it against your thighs and stomach to clean you up.

chan helped you change into something comfortable, and han changed the bedding for you since you ended up making a mess of them just moments prior. 

“you did so well,” chan murmured as you both lay back down, his tone full of pride and affection. he helped you shift into a more comfortable position, pulling the covers over your trembling body. “so proud of you, baby.”

han slid into the bed with you, his fingers brushing your hair back as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “you were amazing,” he said softly. “so beautiful.”

the two of them worked together seamlessly, their movements tender as they made sure you were warm and comfortable. chan lifted you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as han brought you a glass of water and held it to your lips.

“drink, baby,” han coaxed, his voice sweet and soothing. “you need to stay hydrated.”

you sipped the water gratefully, your body still trembling slightly as the aftereffects of everything began to fade. chan stroked your back in slow, calming motions, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered words of reassurance.

“you’re safe,” he murmured. “we’ve got you. always.”

the three of you settled into the bed together, chan holding you close while han cuddled up on your other side, his fingers intertwined with yours. the warmth of their bodies and the gentle rhythm of their breathing lulled you into a peaceful state, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you drifted off, feeling cherished and loved.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter nine: here comes the bride!

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

previous part | next part

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: a half-day in the life of a normal couple! you attend jane's wedding. the reception gets messy

word count: 15.1k words

warnings: slightly proofread! i wrote this in one sitting ... don't judge too hard

author's note: okay y'all i know this is a heavy chapter but like ... we love to see it, right?

content warning: mentions of death, angst at the end, suggestive content, kissing, vulgar language, let me know if i missed anything

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @young-adult-summer

want to be added to the taglist? click here!

“Did you fuck the Colonel?”

“Excuse me?” you blink at your computer screen, swiveling in your chair to look at your co-worker, Alivia. You point at the large, digital clock in the room. “It’s nine in the morning.”

“Okay? And?” Alivia pushes away from her desk, her chair scraping across the floor. Your brows furrow.

You look around, unsure of what the fuck is happening. It is your first day back from the Summit, having spent the travel day off thanks to the General, and you could barely focus on the task at hand since your body is still so deliciously sore from Caleb. You even wore a turtleneck to work today since your neck is just covered in love bites and hickeys from Caleb. When he said he wasn’t going to leave a spot untouched, he meant it! Even the skin of your thighs and breasts are covered in the dark purple and red marks, none of them having lightened up just yet.

“You fucked him, didn’t you? Diana will not shut up about it in the break room—”

“Why the fuck is she talking about it?” you lean forward and grab Alivia’s wrist, irritation flashing across your face. “She doesn’t know shit!” you whisper yell. Alivia smirks at you, laying her free hand on top of yours, her fingernails mischievously  scratching your skin.

“So it’s true!” she lowers her voice. You roll your eyes and begin to pull away when she drags you back to her. “You did fuck him!”

“So what if I did?” you nervously laugh, trying to cover your ass as best as you can. “It’s not like he’s going to walk in here and point to me and declare his love for me—” you turn in your chair, making a big movement with your arm, and face the door where Caleb stands, his Colonel hat tucked under his arm, “—motherfucker! You scared me!” 

“Language,” his voice is half-amused, his stoic face almost breaking. Almost.

Alivia looks between you two, a smirk forming on her face. You glance at her smug reaction and roll your eyes, listening to the awkward scrapes of her chair legs as she moves back to her desk. Remaining in your seat, you watch as Caleb crosses the office space. Every step makes your heart either skip a beat or speed up, no in between. If he gets any closer, you may just have a heart attack and die in his arms.

There are worse fates out there, though, so it doesn’t seem too bad.

His Evol helps guide an empty chair to your side, sitting down in it. He places his cap on your desk, right next to the picture of you and your parents at your college graduation. He tilts his head to the side, corner of his lips quirking up for a split second before falling.

“And what can I do to help you out today, Colonel Caleb?” your voice is sweet yet there is a underlying desire for him veiled behind every word. His purple eyes fix on yours, the air becoming thin between the two of you.

“I was wondering if a certain translator could help me out with a small project,” he leans back in the chair, manspreading. It takes everything in you to not look down at his lap. You force a smile onto your lips, eyes memorizing every detail of Caleb’s face all over again, you know, just in case anything changed from this morning.

“What language is it?” you ask, feeling your chair slowly move closer to his.

“Does it matter?” he counters with a perked up eyebrow.

Ah, so that’s why he’s here. He just wants to see you. How sweet! Maybe a visit to his office won’t be too bad, no?

Alivia’s, who watches from the side, jaw drops. Her eyes won’t leave you two, watching how you don’t push back against the Colonel pulling you closer. To her, this is like a teenage drama where the. Two main characters are finally getting together. It’s thrilling! It’s so painfully obvious, too, that you two are flirting. She should file a complaint to HR, right? No! That would mean that her and the other translators will lose their only source of entertainment. She can’t risk it!

The woman turns to her computer and opens up the Fleet’s messaging board. She furiously types as you and Caleb gaze into each others eyes, his hands now boldly resting on your thighs. She presses the ‘send’ button and your computer dings.

Do you dare to break away from the Colonel’s gaze? You have always been so defiant, haven’t you?

You angle your face away, feeling Caleb’s gaze burn into the side of your face. Alivia’s notification hangs in the corner of your screen. Her words make you smile, a small laugh escaping your lips. Caleb squeezes your thighs, drawing your attention back to him. His brows knit together, slight annoyance written all over his face.

“What’s so funny?” he asks. You don’t immediately reply. Instead you slightly push your chair back and cross one leg over the other. His hands leave your thighs. Caleb matches your posture, crossing his arms over his decorated chest. “Your Colonel asked you something.”

Oh my goodness…you will definitely be asking him to say that to you later when you’re alone.

“Us translators are thinking of going on a strike, Colonel Caleb,” your tone is light, playful yet serious, “our working conditions are horrendous. Just absolutely atrocious.”

“Oh?”

“Yes sir,” you smirk, watching as Caleb’s eyes slightly widen. Oh, how you love teasing him at work…something that just started thirty seconds ago but still! You are enjoying it so much so far! Who knew that you can hold so much power with a few simple words?

“Is there anything that I can do to make your working conditions…better?”

Is there a hidden tone of lust in his voice? Oh, Caleb, you dirty dog!

“We would like more paid vacation days, more time off, better chairs because these ones just fucking suck — you know what? Scratch that, we want better offices. Ones with windows, please,” you lean forward, suddenly dropping your playful flirting and becoming quite serious. Caleb picks up on this and straightens his posture, listening intently. “Are you writing this down? I feel like you should be writing this down—”

“I’ll remember it,” Caleb sneaks in a wink, liking how you have slowly inched closer to him. The tips of his gloved hands rest against your bare knees, skirt slowly riding up from your posture.

“Don’t forget the coffee machine!” Alivia calls out from behind you. You turn around and nod, giving her a thumbs up, before turning back to Caleb.

“And we want a badass coffee machine. Non-negotiable. Preferably one that does espresso. We’re all kind of addicted down here,” you lean in and whisper the last part, nudging Caleb’s arm. A quiet chuckle emits from his throat but never leaves his mouth, his eyes looking down at you. 

Caleb always knew you were charming. Even as kids, you were able to talk your parents out of a long grounding with simple reasoning and light manipulation. You knew exactly when to pull out your puppy dog eyes and when to make your voice just raspy enough to make it seem like you were about to cry. He would watch your artistry at work go down from outside your house and through the large window that showcases the living room inside your house. The curtains were drawn open as you put on your show, the young boy in awe of how well you handled the situation. Hell! They even gave you money to go have fun at the arcade with him and her when you were done! Needless to say, you’re a genius mastermind!

“Is that all?” he asks, hiding the smile that threatens to break across his face.

“I…I think so,” you slowly nod, racking your brain’s rolodex of notes to figure out if there is indeed anything that you are missing. Nope! You’re good. You give Caleb one final nod, one that he copies, and adjust yourself in your seat, fixing your pencil skirt so your legs have some breathing room.

“I’ll talk with my supervisors,” Caleb feeds into the dramatics of your threat to go on strike. He pushes back into the chair, puffing his chest out a bit just for you sake (and it works), before standing up. “I do need to borrow you for a project, though.”

You open your mouth to protest but are quickly shut up by Caleb grabbing your belongings, plucking them from the desk as if they are his. All you can do is blink and watch as he slips them into your bag. The Colonel places his hat on his head and finally turns to you, flicking his head towards the door.

“Come on,” he places your bag in your lap, because a Colonel simply cannot hold a lower ranking person’s belongings, and heads for the door.

“Nice touch, Colonel, very nice,” you roll your eyes at him. You purse your lips and wrap your fingers around the straps of your bag. You glare at the back of his head, his broad shoulders slipping out of view. 

After a couple of moments, because of course you’re going to make him wait a minute or two, you stand from your chair. Alivia is quick when she approaches your side, looking up at you with big eyes. She slaps your arms and back, pushing you towards the doors. You want to protest before you’re pushed out into the hallway.

“Go get us that coffee machine!” Alivia smiles. She slams the door in your face. You blink at the metal material and feel something tap the back of your hand. You turn and look up at Caleb, who looks down at you with big and glowing purple eyes, the orange and bronze color more vibrant than usual today.

Or maybe it’s because whenever you look at him, the world becomes more vibrant and full of life. The song that birds sing become more romantic in tone than playful. You suddenly don’t mind the fact that he has control over your work life and home life.

After all, you aren’t the same woman you were two months ago.

Caleb leans down, his breath hot on the side of your face. Your heart flutters. The heat from his body mixes in with yours. You ignore the world that has you surrounded, the other Fleet officers and employees can keep their comments to themselves and shove it! You’re with Caleb…that’s all that matters.

“We’re taking another day off for…work reasons…I hope that’s okay with you,” his voice is low in your ear. It itches your brain in just the right way, the rasp and gravel from his volume drawing you closer to him. You look up when he pulls away from you and bat your eyelashes at him. Caleb’s eyes slightly darken for a brief moment before they revert to their usual bright and light appearance. You nod. “Good. Let’s go.”

The Colonel slips past you, his Evol gently pushing you with him to keep up because the man can be very impatient at times and this just happens to be one of those moments. Your feet scuff the dark floor, stumbling over each other as you’re taken to the same elevator you were brought in when you met Caleb for the second time. You step inside, Caleb standing to the side of you with his hands behind his back. You tilt your head to look up at him, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.

He’s so tall. And so, so broad. His hair is a bit shaggy towards the back, the length definitely growing past its usual short length. His hands are obscenely large in his black leather gloves. You watch as he reaches out and pokes a button, one that will lead you to the officers’ special parking garage. As he moves back in place, you catch a glimpse of his neck. Just barely over the collar of his dress shirt is a glimpse of a hickey, one that you gave him the night before when he pretended to be asleep, taking up the entirety of your bed like it was his own.

“Do I have something on my face?” Caleb asks, just barely glancing over at you as the elevator slowly moves downward. You shake your head no, looking forward and at the silver elevator doors.

“No, not on your face,” you play it off as cool as you can, unable to contain the playful smirk that passes on your face. “There is a little something on your neck, though.”

Caleb’s chuckle is a puff if air. The elevator doors slide open. He turns to you, tilting his head to the side. There is a playfulness behind his eyes. It’s matched with a hint of desire, maybe even a challenge if you’re up for it. Without another word, you step out of the elevator and into the unknown, yet very well lit, parking garage.

It’s your second time inside since Caleb drove you to work this morning. The walls are white with blue and black lines running across the perimeter. The ground is smooth yet touch enough for the car tires to have some friction to hold onto. There is no trash, as one would expect to see in any other parking garage in the world, and there are no tire marks on the ground. You look around, narrowing your eyes as you think back to this morning, trying to remember what direction Caleb parked in.

Caleb watches you, making sure to tilt his face away from the parking garage’s security cameras so he can fully smile at you without the pressure of the Fleet breathing down his neck. He matches the pace of your steps, remaining close behind and ready to guide you if you move in the wrong direction. His amethyst eyes follow as you slow down. Your head swivels back and forth, looking at both sides of the garage. He continues at his pace, though, and walks closer to you, a faint whiff of your spiced perfume hitting his nose.

You hesitate in your step, feeling his chest collide with your back. A gasp flies from your lips. Caleb presses his hands on top of your shoulders, his warmth seeping into your skin through the layer of leather and the fabric of your turtle neck sweater. Goosebumps form under his touch, chills running down your spine. He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, slowly angling your body to the right side of the garage.

“This way, pretty bird,” he whispers into your ear. He lingers, not wanting to pull away, to forever remain attached to you. Your body perfectly fits his. Whenever he touches you, sparks ignite between your bodies.

To him, you are like the sun. Bright and beautiful with a strong gravitational pull that he’ll never be able to escape. Maybe you’re like a black hole and he has passed the point of no return, ready to be pulled apart at the atomic level, to be spaghettified. Caleb will go through the grueling process if it means that he’ll forever remain at your side (and inside you) for the rest of your lives.

You flake away from his touch, having to put some distance between you two before the camera capture a video that is not safe for work. Your heart pounds inside your chest, the tips of your ears a bright pink color. Your feet carry you away from him and in the direction he turned you in, your eyes soon capturing sight of his car. Making a beeline for it, you reach the passenger side door, hand resting on the handle, desperately needing to get inside.

Your gaze darts to him. He saunters towards the car, keys floating above the palm of his hand. Your face falls. He’s teasing you. How dare he! Removing your hand from the door’s handle, you cross your arms over your chest and pop a hip out. A quiet chuckle escapes his lips. He rounds the car and slips into your proximity once again, his cologne filling your nostrils.

Your lips part, back pressed against the door of the car. Caleb reaches beside you, his fingers looping into the car door’s handle. He leans down, the brim of his cat now shadowing your faces from the cameras. You gulp. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. The corner of his lips tugs up into a sly smirk. He pulls against the door, propping it ajar as your body is moved into his.

Fuck, he’s intoxicating.

“Your place or mine?” Caleb asks you in a low voice. His left hand twitches, fighting the urge to reach out and cup your face, to bring your lips to his in a kiss that he will fully surrender himself into.

“Yours,” you breathe the words out, your eyes fixated on his lips. He nods and guides you away from the door, fully opening and helping you inside, placing your bag into the backseat of the car. You immediately move to fix your skirt, finding a spot that’s comfortable in his expensive car.

A gentle blue light remains around the edges of the war, woven into the material, looking seamless in its design. You smile at it, always liking how it looks, and listen as the driver’s side door opens, the car dipping when he gets inside. You glance at him with a warm smile, knees locked together and angled towards him just the way he likes it (as he informed you this morning, of course). You reach behind you, Caleb getting settled in at your side and ignites the engine to life, and grab a tube of chapstick from your bag, slowly applying it to your lips.

Caleb finally returns your smile, placing his Colonel’s hat in your lap. He reaches over, his hand gripping the seatbelt. The side of his face hovers next to yours as he weaves it across your body, locking the metal piece in place. Before he can pull away, you close the minuscule distance and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Caleb freezes. His smile grows wider and his face goes warm. You cup the side of his face, the one that isn’t facing you, and bring his head back to yours. His face grows more and more pink with every kiss that you give him. He melts into you, fully giving in as the scent of your chapstick fills the car. He tilts his face to the side, quietly chuckling.

“You missed a spot,” he murmurs, eyes flickering to you.

“Oh? Did I?” you scrunch your face at him, giggling. “Allow me to remedy that!” You press a few more kisses to the side of his face, purposefully missing his lips no matter how hard he tries to get you to press your lips to his. Once you’re done and satisfied with your work, your hand drops from his face, resting in your lap.

“Is that it?” Caleb whines, slowly retreating back into his seat. You nod and turn your face to his so you can rub it in his face that he didn’t get what he wanted.

Well…maybe you wanted him to take it.

You match Caleb’s head tilt. His purple eyes gloss over, bottom lip pouted out, slightly trembling. You narrow your eyes at him. He leans in but you draw back, wanting to play this game just a little bit longer.

“This isn’t fair,” he dramatically sighs, “you’re a bully.”

“You know what isn’t fair? Is you pulling out a puppy dog face, Caleb,” you shoot back, “you’re a grown ass man and yet I feel like I just kicked you.”

“You did kick me,” Caleb draws back and into his seat. He slaps his hands over his heart, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Now how the fuck did he manage to do that. “You kicked me in my emotions! I’m ruined! How will I ever survive, pretty bird?”

You roll your eyes despite the strings inside your heart aching and being pulled at. A sigh slowly leaves your lips followed by an eye roll. You scoff, looking between him and the dashboard in front of you. He bats his eyes when you make eye contact.

“Fine! Fuck! Whatever!” you throw your hands up into the air. Caleb’s frown is immediately replaced with a smile and he leans forward, making you meet him halfway. You press your lips against his, staying there for two seconds before beginning to pull away.

Caleb, on the other hand, has a different idea. His hand captures the back of your head and pulls you can to him. The kiss and lengthened, the man deepening it as his tongue slips inside your mouth. A sigh falls from your lips, pushing into him, but he’s the one that pulls away this time. He cups your cheek, thumb swiping off the leftover saliva that remains. He licks his lips and stares at yours. You’re already breathless.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” Caleb asks. You nod as an answer, in a lovestruck trance he’s pushed you into. He nods back and smirks, one hand on the steering wheel as the car moves out of its spot. 

You melt into the passenger seat, a drunken smile on your face. A giggle threatens to leave your mouth but you swallow it. Caleb glances at you, placing his hand on your thigh, fingers pushing your skirt up by a few centimeters. You blush and look outside the tinted window, covering your face with your hands.

Your heart is just so full with love and happiness. You barely notice Skyhaven pass you by, the man weaving through the traffic like a professional, and keep your eyes away from his. He squeezes your thigh, his hand slowly creeping up and under your skirt. You push it back down, shaking your head.

Not yet.

Caleb takes the hint and keeps his eyes on the road, massaging the plushness of your thigh, loving the way your skin is so soft against his rough hands. He sighs from content, relaxing into his seat as he accelerates the car, needing to get you into his apartment as soon as possible.

This is the first time you are at his place. Caleb has been at your shabby apartment many times, having already grown accustomed to the messy environment that you live in. He helped clean up a bit, organizing it so it’ll be spotless no matter what you throw at it.

You have asked him about his apartment plenty of times. You asked about the color of his walls, the type of furniture he has, how many rooms his Colonel salary managed to get him. He joked with you, asking if you wanted to claim the leftover ones for yourself. Shamelessly, you said yes, joking that you need a room for relaxing, a room for arts and crafts, a room for your clothes, one for your shoes, and one that will serve as your personal make up room for the times you need to be alone while doing make up. Caleb laughed with you. It didn’t take much convincing for him to give you every single room, claiming that all he needs is the spot in bed next to yours to be happy.

Needless to say, your heart skipped a beat and you swooned over his sweet words.

You follow close behind him, holding your bag at your side, his Colonel hat resting on the top of your head. He holds one of your hands, arm outstretched as he takes the lead. His dress jacket is draped over his arm, the black dress shirt doing his back muscles no justice, hiding the way they flex with every move and step.

“Your hallway is much more elegant than mine,” you comment. He steals a look of you from over his shoulder. He chuckles and tugs you forward, wrapping his arm around your waist. You lean into him with a smile, pausing when you reach his door.

The door to his apartment is large. There’s only one other door, which is on the other side of the hallway all the way down on the west end while Caleb’s sits in the east. You look up at him, containing another laugh as he fumbles with his jacket to press his thumb to the pad on the door.

“Even your door is more elegant than mine.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Caleb quips, the door finally clicking open. He pushes the heavy door open with one push. You dip under his arm and he’s quick to follow, closing the door.

Your jaw drops at the sight. After a quick scan of the immediate area. The space is large — outrageously so! The wall of the living room is a collection of floor to ceiling windows, gray curtains drawn open so the morning sun can leak inside the place. A large black couch sits in the middle of the room. A pair of chairs sit opposite of it. Slender lights hang from the ceiling at different heights. The space is dark with warm yellow lighting.

It’s so fucking nice, too!

You turn to Caleb, a look of shock and annoyance plastered across your face. He raises an eyebrow, gently taking your belongings from your arms and into his.

“What?”

“You’re…rich.”

“Well—”

“You made me pay for dinner last night!” you smack his arm with the flat side of your phone. Caleb’s eyes shoot open. He’s quick to get away from you, scurrying down a hallway just to your right. You follow him, slapping his back before jumping on his back. He holds you with ease, propping open one of the doors, which leads inside an unused bedroom, and places your belongings onto the bed. You hook an arm around his neck, tightening it. “I can’t believe you!”

Caleb laughs and exits the room, kicking the door closed behind him. You slowly tighten your arm around his neck, his chin resting on the crook of your elbow. His throat closes in on itself, the tall man quickly dipping inside the bedroom that he uses. He lets out a comedic wheeze as if you’re actually hurting him. You gasp and release your grip on him. Caleb takes your moment of weakness and plops you onto his bed.

“Hey! No fair!” you call out at him. He laughs and drops his body on top of yours.

His weight traps you between him and the mattress, not that you’re complaining anyways, and he drops his head next to yours. Your phone drops next to your head, the machine laughing at you for getting caught in Caleb’s trap so easily. His lips brush against your ear, the man making sure to move your hair to the other side of your head so he doesn’t accidentally tug on it, and he blows out a steady stream of air. You gasp and smack his back. You call him a motherfucker and pinch his side. He laughs and nuzzles his face into your neck, making himself at home.

“You’re so warm,” he whispers from delight, “and you smell good.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. Your gaze falls to the window in his bedroom. It’s a nice view of Skyhaven, his place overlooking the tops of many buildings. His floor would directly be in the clouds on a gloomy day. You make a note to invade his space on one of those days.

Caleb glances up at you. His smile grows on his face when he notices you lost in thought. He grabs the fabric of your turtle neck sweater and tugs it down, looking at his work from the previous night. He hums to himself. His hand slips under the gentle fabric of your sweater, resting on your side. He listens to your heartbeat as it quickens before relaxing into a steady thump. In one fluid movement, Caleb shifts so he lays beside you, his hand still attached to your hip.

He pushes up the material, exposing your warm skin to the cold air of the apartment. Goosebumps form across your skin but his thumb is quick to wipe them away. You glance down at him, lips barely parted, before tearing your gaze away, choosing to focus on something else and not him. His face snaps up to yours. He shimmies back up and you laugh at how cute he is.

Caleb places his chin on your collarbone. Your fingers slip into his dark brown hair and slowly begin to scratch and massage his scalp. His eyes close and he fully places his head’s weight onto your chest. His ear sits right above your heart. He listens to the calm beats, his fingers still massaging gentle circles into the skin of your hip.

The moment is domestic. There are no underlying or hidden messages in either of your words and actions. Truth reigns here. There is no enemy other than the time that passes you by, the clock slowly counting down until you are eventually ripped away from each other, whether it is a mission or death.

“Hey, pretty bird?” Caleb whispers, his eyes now focused on your exposed skin. You hum in response, heartbeat slowly picking up its pace. “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t need to ask,” your response is quick.

Caleb nods with a small smile. He closes the distance between your faces, now at eye level with you, and gently presses his lips to yours. You hold his head in place, fingers slightly tightening around his dark locks of hair.

The kiss is slow, tender. There is no need to hurry it or hasten your actions. There is no urgency due to lack of time or if you are about to be caught. Your breaths turn into one, eyes closed as you take your time with the kiss. The two of you smile against each other’s lips, slowly deepening the kiss, his tongue pushing inside your mouth. You sigh and lean into the kiss.

Caleb’s hand pushes up your sweater, your side and stomach now exposed to the bedroom’s atmosphere. You hiss against his mouth, the cold air shocking you back to life. His large palm rubs up and down your skin, warming you up. He murmurs a quiet sorry into your mouth.

His hand leaves your side, knees digging into the mattress beside you. Caleb’s touch is electric. Your body shudders under his touch, your hands still attached to the back of his head and hardened bicep. You squeeze his arm, silently giving him permission to go farther. Your lips move in sync with each other. He tilts his head one way and you follow, pursuing him to continue the kiss. Caleb’s fingers break the barrier between your skin and skin, slipping below the surface.

Your phone above your head vibrates. You groan and ignore it, pulling Caleb’s face back to yours when he pulls away. The vibrations stop and his hand moves further down, reaching your panties. He’s about to go further when your phone vibrates again.

Caleb’s hand leaves your skirt. He pulls away from your kiss, glaring at your phone. Your head rolls back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. He snatched the phone from the mattress and looks at the name, turning the screen to face you. It’s Jane, your friend and bride-to-be. You roll your eyes and click the decline button. Caleb smiles and moves to place your phone to the side when Jane’s face lights up your screen again. This time, it’s a video call. You swipe the phone from Caleb’s hand. He immediately plops back into your embrace, burying his face into your neck.

“Jane!” you groan, irritation laced within your voice. “What do you need?”

“Oh! She’s snappy today!” Jane laughs. She sits at her kitchen counter, using a knife to peel an apple. She barely looks at the screen. Her posture is casual and slouched. A man passes from behind her and kisses her head.

“Hey,” the man greets you with a wave. You smile and nod back. Caleb turns his head to the side, glaring at the masculine voice that came from the phone, purple eyes hot with jealously and protection.

“Hi,” you greet back, looking at Jane, “spit it out. What do you need?”

“Oh my god! You’re so mean!” Jane finally looks at the screen. She leans in closer, brows knitting together. You match her expression, feeling Caleb’s nose nuzzle back into your skin. He draws your leg up to wrap around his waist, fingers grazing up and down the side of your leg. “Oh my god…who are you with?”

“Jane—”

“Is that The Colonel?!” she screeches. She hops from her chair and snatches the phone, her face now taking up the entire screen. You roll your eyes. Caleb chuckles, his breath hot against your neck, causing your to squirm. In the corner of the screen, you look at yourself, noticing Caleb’s head of hair poorly cropped out. “It is! Oh my god! Hi, Colonel!”

“Please don’t talk to him,” you roll your eyes, “you’ll only boost his ego some more.”

“Hi Jane,” Caleb finally turns his head to look at the screen, a bright and charming smile on his face. You groan and tilt the phone so he takes up the entirety of the screen. Jane waves to him, clapping her hands together. “What happened to the Machine nickname?”

“Hi! And ask your girlfriend! She was the one who told our group chat to refer to you as that!” Jane informs him, rushing to her fiancé to show him Caleb’s face. “Say hi to my fiancé!”

“Hi, Jane’s fiancé,” Caleb hums, chuckling. You fake throw up and he catches you, his Evol holding the phone in the air now. It pushes away from you, showcasing both you and Caleb.

“You should bring him to the wedding, girl! You do have a plus one!” Jane smiles.

Your eyes go wide. You can feel Caleb’s gaze fix on the side of your face, burning into your skin. Your cheeks go pink. Caleb smugly smirks before turning his attention to the phone screen.

“Wedding, huh?” his tone is oh so cocky. It drives you crazy. “I didn’t know about the wedding.”

“She didn’t tell you? What a loser! Take this as your invite then, Colonel Caleb! You are more than welcome to join us! Do you like steak? You seem like a steak guy. I’ll mark you down for steak!” Jane snaps her fingers at her fiancé, who quickly writes down the note for her. “And you’re so lucky that we had a last minute drop out! I’ll be able to place you next to your girlfriend!”

“I am lucky!” Caleb smirks, turning his attention back over to you. You glare at him, totally unamused as to how well he gets along with Jane. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow!” Jane beams.

“No it’s not,” you scoff, “it’s next weekend—”

“Oh, you beautiful, beautiful idiot. It’s tomorrow,” Jane informs you.

Your blood runs cold for the umpteenth time today. Caleb notices this and is quick to cover for you, using his charming smile to help cover for your mistake.

“You know how she is,” Caleb begins, “she’s always been so forgetful! We just came back from a work trip and she’s been exhausted. We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Great! Bye!” Caleb ends the call before Jane can continue. The phone falls on the bed above your heads.

You cover your face with your hands. Caleb props himself up over you. He chuckles and uses one hand to gently remove yours from your face. You let him, too, and frown when your eyes meet. He matches it and brushes some of your hair out of your face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Caleb asks, leaning down to peck your lips. You sigh and push him away, slowly sitting up. He brings you onto his lap and pulls you back down with you on top this time.

“I forgot her wedding,” you drop your head next to his. Your hair covers his face, obscuring his vision. He doesn’t fight it, though, and instead accepts his fate.

“That’s okay! It’s happens to—”

“Her wedding is tomorrow and my neck looks like a fucking crime scene happened!”

“Oh. Right,” Caleb sheepishly laughs. He sits you two back up, purple eyes meeting a hot and angry glare. He goes quiet, hands remaining on your waist. “How can we—”

“I’m a bridesmaid, Caleb!” you take your anger out on his chest. He lets you. “You have lost all privileges that access you to my neck! And other exposed areas!”

“What?” his jaw drops, “No! That’s not—”

You flee his arms in a frenzy. Dipping out of his bedroom, you rush to the room where he tossed your belongings. Frantically grabbing your bag, you feel Caleb’s hands grab your shoulders. He leans down and kisses your cheek. You pull away from him. He moves his hands to your waist, wrapping both arms around you. His body engulfs yours, pulling you into his body heat.

“Caleb…I have to go pack,” you breathe out.

“You can help me pack first! Then we can go to yours!”

“You suck. You’re buying the tickets for the Coelum Express. Both there AND back, motherfucker,” you try to wiggle away from him but fail. His laugh is loud in your ear. You stop fighting against him and sigh, placing your full weight into his hands, even making your legs go limp so he has to hold you. “Fine, fine. We can do that, but you need to get two more things to help remedy my neck situation.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“A shit ton of peanut butter and a whisk.”

“Sounds kinky.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The sun is shining in Linkon, even brighter than it would have in Skyhaven. There are no clouds in the sky, the vast blue having a few dark specks from birds that fly by. It’s windy as well, the skirt of your pastel colored dress kicking up in the wind. The material is like silk, just a thin layer between you and the outside world.

Jane told the bridesmaids to be at the venue at a certain time, opting to be a carefree bride for the day of her wedding. Every bridesmaid knows how to do their makeup and hair, helping save Jane money for her own makeup and hair. They were to arrive two hours before the wedding to take pictures.

You stand inside your childhood bedroom, leaning in close to a mirror as Caleb watches you from your bed. You finish the last bit of mascara, your eyelashes evenly coated, and place the tube back down onto the vanity. A few polaroid pictures are tucked between the wood and mirror; pictures of you and your friends in high school litter the perimeter. None feature Caleb, though.

“You look amazing,” Caleb coos from the bed. You smile and turn around, leaning against the vanity. 

You stare at him, eyes running up and down his body as he stands from the bed. His outfit is nice, finally freeing himself from his Colonel uniform. Besides, you want Caleb to be here, not the Colonel. His dark navy blue suit jacket lays on the bed, his white dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His pants match the suit jacket.

“You look very pretty as well,” you respond, slipping into his arms as soon as he opens them. He closes his eyes and rests his chin on the top of your head. He mutters a quiet thank you, to which you hum in response.

The two of you stand in silence. The sound of the outside wind and the quiet sound of your music fills the room. For once, you don’t feel anxiety clinging to your bones, rattling you. There is no voice inside of your head telling you that you suck and need to stay away from Caleb for everyone’s sake. You don’t have her voice in your head either, screaming at you about how bad of a person you are.

Caleb’s arms are your safe space. While in them, your mind goes blank. Quiet. Peaceful. It’s serene.

“We need to leave soon,” you smush your cheek into his chest, eyes closed. He holds the back of your head, making sure that he doesn’t mess up your hair that took an hour and a half to complete.

“Five more minutes,” Caleb whispers back. You nod.

When five minutes go by, neither of you let go, holding on for just a couple more seconds before slipping away. You step to the bed and grab his jacket, helping him slip it on once he gets his sleeves pushed back down. You flatten out the wrinkles on his shoulders and pick off the leftover lint and other small flecks that make his image imperfect.

He takes your hand and guides you out of the house, grabbing an extra pair of sneakers for you when your feet begin to hurt from being in heels for too long. He tosses them into the backseat after helping you into the passenger side. He settles in beside you and pulls out of the driveway, heading towards the venue.

“So, is there anybody I need to know who is going to be there?” Caleb asks. Your fingers are laced together and rest on the center console.

“Great question,” you respond while looking out the window.

The citizens of Linkon city have always been so happy, much happier compared to the people in Skyhaven. They wear bright smiles on their faces and wave at people who pass them on the sidewalk. You can’t remember the last time you smiled and waved to a random stranger was.

“Well, there’s the girls you met at the club that one night,” you breathe out, “and there’s just the guys who were in our friend group…but they’re all assholes now so you don’t really need to be nice to them.”

Caleb’s jaw tightens at the mention of your male college friends. He relaxes, though, when you tell him he doesn’t need to be nice. He certainly won’t be.

“Why don’t you introduce me to the ones that matter then, hm?” he glances at you from the corner of his eye. You nod and smile, turning to look at him.

He drives out of Linkon and to a nearby forest, one famed for its beauty and views. He follows your instructions, holding the wedding invitation in hand, and point to the sign that proclaims Jane’s wedding. He parks in a spot and immediately helps you out, helping keep the hem of your skirt off of the dirty ground. Caleb slings your purse over your shoulder and swoops you into his arms. The dust and dirt from the forest ground attach to the bottom of his pants and shoes while yours remains perfect and pristine. He sets you down once you reach the venue, setting you down on the hardened floor instead of grass.

“I never pegged Jane to be the foresty type,” Caleb comments in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“She’s definitely not. She saw this place on Moments and decided that this is where she was going to have her wedding,” you hold back a snort and take Caleb’s hand, walking through the large building and to the room where the bridesmaids are. Once you reach the door, your drop his hand and give him a kiss, taking your purse back from him. “Are you going to be okay without me?”

“I think I might die,” Caleb sighs. You roll your eyes, known that it’s a sad attempt to convince you to try and convince Jane to let him in.

“Stop being dramatic. I heard the groomsmen are outside, why don’t you go make some friends for me, hm?” you fix his tie, tightening it around his neck. He nods and leans down, pressing one last kiss to your lips before watching you disappear inside the room.

Caleb walks down the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets. He looks around and takes in his surroundings. The building is nice. It’s like an expensive lodge for rich people, people who are in the top 1%. It’s cozy yet elegant, the warm lighting a nice touch to the wooden walls. He pops his head down a hallway before walking down it.

Voices catch his attention. The man turns down another hallway, finding himself at the back of the venue where a large glass building sits. A group of men in black suits stand just outside the door. Caleb clears his throat, putting on the best smile he can, before exiting the building. He closes the door behind him and is immediately met by the groom, the same man he saw over the phone.

“Caleb! It’s finally nice to meet you, man! Come meet my friends,” the groom, Arthur, shakes his hand, guiding Caleb to the group. All of the men greet him with one of them turned away at the drink table. Caleb smiles at them all, making a mental note of all of their names. “Last but not least, Caleb, meet Zayne! We work at Asko Hospital together!”

Caleb’s smile falters for a split second. He keeps his charm up despite the bubbling anger and annoyance that flares up in his chest. Zayne raises an eyebrow at Caleb, water bottle in hand. Their silence is palpable and the group looks back and forth.

“We’ve met,” Zayne finally manages to fill in the silence. The tension, though, remains, with only Caleb and Zayne feeling it.

“Oh really? That’s great!” Arthur celebrates, not knowing just how far back Zayne and Caleb’s rivalry goes. “I wonder how things are going with the women!”

And oh how things could not have turned out worse for you.

The bride and bridesmaids exit the building in one big group. Jane’s dress is gorgeous; it’s slender fitting and shows off all of her curves in the best way possible. You follow close behind, holding two bouquets of flowers in one hand while the other holds a long veil. Tonya is close behind with the second half of the veil, the two of you laughing. Caleb relaxes once he sees you, taking his hands out of his pockets, but immediately tenses when another familiar figure leaves the building.

It’s her. She doesn’t wear the same shade or dress as you and the other bridesmaids do. Instead, she wears a short black dress. It has a halter top and simple belt that runs around the waist. Caleb’s mouth goes dry, his heartbeat quickens. His reaction isn’t that of love or adoration, despite now having a brotherly affection towards her, but comes from a place of nervousness and anticipation.

She locks eyes with him, a small smile spreading across her face. Caleb tears his gaze away and looks at Zayne, who stares daggers at him. Caleb peels away from the group, already knowing that he’s about to be cornered no matter what.

Your eyes flicker to him while you and Tonya secure Jane’s veil to her head. You contain a sigh. Once the veil is in, you take a few steps away, bouquet in hand, and begin to walk towards Caleb. You take his hand once he’s close enough and avoid looking at the two groups that have now formed together.

“I didn’t know she was coming,” you breathe out, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah? Did you know that Zayne was coming too?” Caleb’s question catches you off guard. You blink at him, trying to process his words.

“Zayne? He’s here?” you ask. Caleb’s jaw tightens, so does his grip on your hand. “I-I didn’t know that,” you add on, finally turning around to see Zayne and her staring at you and Caleb. “Jane mentioned that a groomsman had to leave but she never mentioned that it was Zayne—”

“So you knew he was coming?” Caleb interrupts you. You can sense anger radiating off from his body. You hesitate to respond and avoid his gaze. “Pretty bird. Look at me.” You do.

“I didn’t know he was going to be a groomsman, Caleb, nor did I know if he accepted the invitation to the wedding or not. He usually says no to these things,” you reason with Caleb. He nods and takes a deep breath, turning his face away. “Let’s…let’s not have them ruin our night, yeah? We can avoid them after the ceremony. Hell, we can probably leave early if we want to!”

“That’s okay,” he turns back to you. He brushes your hair out of your face, mentally making a note to find the time to fight the fucking wind, and sighs. “Jane needs your support! And we’re here to give it to her! I’ll play nice with Zayne, I promise.”

“Oh good. He’s now decided to play nice,” Zayne’s voice breaks through your conversation with you and Caleb. Goosebumps form on your skin. Caleb instinctually pulls you to his side, eyes narrowing at the hazel eyed man. You turn to her, who wears a fake smile on her face.

“You look nice tonight,” she says to you. You smile back, wrapping your arm around Caleb’s, hand resting on his bicep.

“Thank you,” you begin, “your dress looks beautiful on you!”

“Might I suggest we address the elephant in the room?” Zayne, always the voice of reason, asks. The remaining three people nod and he places his hands on his hips. “I brought her here as my date tonight, let me get that out of the way. I did not know that you,” he looks at Caleb, “were going to be here. Now, I think we all possess the ability to act like adults tonight, correct? Let’s set aside our…differences and agree to be cordial for the sake of Jane and Arthur.”

“I agree,” you chime in, looking up at Caleb, “they deserve to have a good night together. We shouldn’t ruin that with petty drama.” Caleb nods. The two of you look at her and Zayne. They nod as well. “Great!”

“Wonderful!” she mimes your cheery tone. You suck in your cheeks, holding back a snarky comment, and smile with a fake laugh. Zayne turns around and walks away, bringing her with him. You turn to Caleb and lean into his side, feeling his muscles tense and flex under your touch.

“Are you going to be okay?” you whisper. He weakly nods. “Are you sure? I can see if you can replace Zayne as the groomsman if you want me to.” Your joke flies right over Caleb’s head. He stares at you, completely serious, and nods.

“Okay. Go do that.”

“What?” a laugh leaves your lips, “I’m not going to do that! I was joking! Babe, you’re going to survive this. I’m going to survive this. We’re going to do great, yeah?”

Oh, how wrong you will be.

You are yelled at by Jane and immediately leave Caleb’s side, slipping your purse over his shoulder once again. You and the other bridesmaids take photos together. Jane is always at the center, alongside Arthur, and you have to move every minute or so in a new order because Jane doesn’t know what she wants yet. You collide with other women, sometimes with Zayne or another groomsmen, and laugh while they try to fix your hair. For one photo, Zayne stands at your side, leaning into your side. You smile at the camera hoping to whatever god is out there that Caleb doesn’t take Zayne’s actions as an act of war.

“Hey! Bring your boyfriend over! Jane wants a pic of us together!” Arthur shouts from afar. You nod and look at Caleb, who sits in a chair with his arms crossed over his arms, a glare focused on Zayne. You yell his name and his head immediately snaps in your direction, face softening. You wave him over with a wink and he jumps up, rushing over to your side. He wraps his arm around you and you guide him over to Jane and Arthur.

Caleb smirks as he passes by Zayne, wagging a finger at him without you noticing. Zayne rolls his eyes. She, on the other hand, crosses her arms over her chest at the revelation, a scowl permanently carved into her face.

You stand at Jane’s side, Caleb smiling and shaking Arthur’s hand once again as a more formal meeting since the quartet stands far away from the group. You hug Jane and the photographer snaps a few candid shots before the two couples get situated and stand exactly how Jane tells them to. The photographer grabs the pictures and Jane immediately turns to you and Caleb.

“I want a picture of my darling best friend and her Colonel! Thank you! You can’t say no because I’m the bride!” Jane hurries away, standing next to the photographer now. You laugh and Caleb smiles.

“Whatever the bride wants, the bride gets, right?” Caleb’s arm slinks around your waist, hugging you close to him. Your hand rests on his chest, your bouquet of flowers hanging at his lower back. He tilts his head head to yours, smiling brightly as your eyes are exposed to bright flashes of light. He kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “I love you so much, you’re so beautiful.”

Before you have a chance to respond, you are grabbed by other bridesmaids. Guests begin to arrive and Jane dips inside the building, dragging you with her. You gasp and reach for Caleb. He holds on for a few seconds before letting go, waving as you’re pushed inside. He watches as they draw the curtains closed, chuckling. His smile fades, though, when he notices Zayne entering the building last, a smug smirk on his face.

“Caleb,” her voice beckons from behind. He turns around and looks down at her, hands in his pockets. “Will you sit with me? I’m afraid I don’t know anybody else here!” She laughs. Caleb immediately nods since he is in the same situation as her.

“Sure!” he cheerily says. She wraps her arm in his and he guides them towards the venue’s seating. “It’ll give us some time to catch up with each other, pip-squeak!”

Once all of the guests are in their seats and Jane is ready to begun, the ceremony begins.

The groom walks down the aisle on his own. He smiles at people in the crowd, his eyes already teary from the overwhelming moment in his life. He turns on his heel and the Best Man and Maid of Honor, Tonya, walk down the aisle. You’re next and surprise surprise, you’re partnered with Zayne.

He holds out his arm to you. You take it, hand resting on his forearm. His body tenses. You look up at him and give his arm a reassuring squeeze, you step through the doors and whisper, “lean onto me if you need it!” to him as you approach the crowd.

Caleb turns his head around, sitting in an aisle seat towards the front so he can get a good look at you. He notices you first as you approach the aisle. His heart stops. It swells, butterflies fluttering inside his chest and torso when you take the first step down the white aisle.

White flower petals are scattered across the floor. You walk down with such confidence, a bold and bright smile on your face. Tears well in his eyes at the sight. Oh, he loves you much and you don’t even know it. 

When you draw closer is when Caleb finally notices Zayne at your side. His body heats up in an instant, heart pounding inside his chest. Each beat can be heard in his ears. Every thump rattles his ribs. His ears turn red. He calms down once your eyes meet. He breathing slows, no longer hollow. He follows your body as you pass by him, the bottom of your skirt grazing against his ankle, leaving him already wanting more.

You part with Zayne at the altar and stand in your spot, watching as the other duos walk down the aisle. The music changes, signaling Jane’s arrival. Everyone stands and turns around to watch her walk. Caleb, though, remains standing forward, locking eyes with you.

Caleb places his hand over his heart. He can feel each and every individual beat under his fingers. Your cheeks heat from a blush but you’re unable to look away from him.

You can’t help but wonder if you’ll get to this point with Caleb. When it is time for your future wedding, will you be picking out a dress with him in the back of your mind? Will it be him that you tie your future to?

It’s one you’ve dreamed of as a child and throughout your first year of high school. You had the music picked out with a dress cut out of a bridal magazine you stole from your cousin. You sighed whenever you looked at the small notebook. It hid all of your secrets, including the crush you had on Caleb. You wrote your names a million times over in a pink glitter pen. Hearts and flowers decorated the page, filling in any left over space. A few pages over is a list of first dance songs that were popular at the time and if you turned the page, you’d see your doodles of what your dream venue looked like.

It must be on a spring day! The sky must be blue and beautiful, just how Caleb likes it!

Caleb wonders what kind of dress you’ll wear on your wedding day. He knows that regardless, he’s going to be tearing up and crying the moment he sees you down the aisle. He’d tell you to buy two with his credit card so he can rip one off of your body when your honeymoon begins. He won’t even have a say in the planning and will always give into whatever it is that you want. He’ll smile and nod, running his fingers through your hair as you talk his ear off about flowers and bouquets and how it will go along with the perfect venue you chose and will compliment the colors of your bridesmaids dresses.

A tear rolls down your cheek and you wipe it away, tearing your gaze away from Caleb once he sits down and the ceremony begins.

It’s beautiful. Everyone smiles and laughs at their vows, a few guests and bridesmaids (including yourself) crying when it becomes sappy and pulls at your heartstrings. You hide your face behind your bouquet of flowers at one point, not being able to hold your emotions in as Jane declares her undying love for Arthur. She’s crying, too, and can barely make it through her vows without shaking and trembling. They kiss and the crowd erupts into cheers, standing and clapping for the newly wed couple.

Once the ceremony is over, Jane and Arthur walk down the aisle hand in hand. The cheers continue as they walk back inside the building. You and the other bridesmaids and groomsmen follow suit, exiting in the order people walked down the aisle. Your grip on Zayne’s arm is loose. Once you reach Caleb’s side, you reach out and squeeze his hand, having to let go after a brief second.

The reception room is impeccably decorated. The lights are warm and small, slowly flickering as if they’re stars in the night sky. Caleb sits in his assigned seat, waiting for you to come back to his side. He sighs and looks around, scanning the room. People are already drinking; their laughs are loud and boom across the room. The servers are dressed in all black, contrasting the whites, golds, and light purple color scheme. He sighs and turns to his phone, scrolling through unread messages from the Fleet and Ever.

You enter the room with the other bridesmaids and groomsmen, people barely even paying attention since the group isn’t going to be announced like how Jane and Arthur will be. The seating chart has been seared into your brain and you easily find your way to Caleb. He doesn’t look up from the table, eyes cemented onto his phone.

“Caleb,” you call out once you stand behind him. He turns around and stands from his seat, bringing you into his arms. You gasp and wrap your arms around his neck, chuckling. “Hi, babe, did you enjoy the ceremony?” you ask once you pull away.

“I did, yes,” he cups your cheek. “I was mainly focused on you, though. You are…utterly captivating.”

Your cheeks heat up. You look away and bite your lip, rolling your eyes as an attempt to get the brush to go away. Caleb catches it, though, and kisses your forehead, turning around to pull your seat out for you. You sit down and take his hand, smiling at him.

Zayne sits with her at another table across the room. They’re on the grooms side with the other groomsmen while you and Caleb sit with the other bridesmaids and their partners. A blessing in disguise.

The dinner goes by quick. It is filled with laughter and speeches from Jane and Arthur’s parents alongside the Best Man and Maid of Honor’s speeches. You’re so happy that the responsibility didn’t fall onto you for a speech. Public speaking isn’t your strong suit and it would have been even more embarrassing because of the three people from your childhood: one that you hate, one that you’re on okay terms with, and one that you’re fucking and contemplating marriage with only two days into your relationship.

Dinner plates are taken away and the majority of the room jumps up and rushes to the dance floor. The party begins but you and Caleb remain in your seats, holding hands and smiling at each other. His thumb rubs your knuckles, your chair pulled as close to his as possible, legs tangled together. He leans in and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, causing you to blush and laugh. Every touch is loving, every touch tender and caring.

The two of you purposefully stayed in your seats as long as you did. You didn’t want to be interrupted nor did you want to risk being intercepted by someone from your childhoods. Whenever one of you wanted a drink, you went together, hand in hand, and even followed one another to the bathroom and waited outside. It’s a calculated move, yes, and one that worked, that is, until you two grew restless while the rest of the party had fun.

The music slows and Caleb pushes away from the table. He holds out his hand to you, which you immediately take, and he guides you to the dance floor. You smile as he pulls you into him, hand resting on your lower back while holding your other hand.

“I feel like we just did this, no?” you chuckle under the dimmed lighting. Caleb smiles and nods, leaning down to peck your lips.

“We got interrupted last time. I just know we won’t be this time,” he helps move your arms around his neck, planting his hands onto your waist. You melt into him and close your eyes, swaying back and forth to the music. You hum along, which is music to Caleb’s ears, and he presses his head against yours. Caleb gently pulls away and spins you out before pulling you back in. The two of you share a quiet laugh. You turn in his arms and drape your arms back around his neck.

The midpoint of the song doesn’t even pass before someone taps your shoulder. You sink back down onto the floor, slowly turning to see her standing behind you. Your grip loosens on Caleb, smile falling.

“Mind if I cut in for a dance?” she sweetly asks. You glance at Caleb and clear your throat. He doesn’t say anything. Annoyance flares inside your chest. You nod and step away, faking a smile, before swiftly exiting the dance floor.

You walk back to your seat and sit down. Your hands tremble. Your heart pounds inside your chest. Was it always beating this fast? Or is this something new entirely? Heat burns from within your lungs, causing your heart to ache. Your ears ring. It feels as if someone has their hand around your throat, slowly tightening it, pins and needles poking into your skin.

You swipe your tongue over your teeth, your eyes trained on Caleb and her. They stand close to each other but Caleb keeps a respectable distance. It makes you happy to see him respecting your relationship but cannot help but feel jealous over the fact that he’s dancing with another woman, someone who isn’t you. 

“I don’t think you have taken a single breath for the past minute.”

You turn and look up at Zayne, who stands behind Caleb’s chair. He gestures to the seat. Hesitation fills your mind but against your better judgment, you nod. Zayne sits down beside you, your knees barely touching. The two of you sit in silence, watching as the couples dance and glide across the floor.

The song comes to an end. Hope forms inside your chest, watching as Caleb pulls away from her. She pulls him back in, though, and he doesn’t fight it, his hands returning to her hips.

You purse your lips before biting down on the inside of your cheek with enough force and pressure to draw blood. You force yourself to look away, meeting Zayne’s calm eyes. You sigh and scratch the back of your neck, embarrassment flooding your body.

“Can we…talk?” Zayne asks. You blink at him, unsure if it’s a good idea. You don’t immediately answer. He nods and glances at the dance floor. Caleb’s back is to you two now. “I understand if you don’t want to speak. I, on the other hand, have something to say. I hope you’ll be willing to listen to me.”

“I’ll listen,” you shakily breathe out. You begin to pick at the skin around your fingernails, pulling on the skin as fresh and stinging red lines appear on your fingers. It’s a nasty habit you’ve picked up, one that you always seem to do when your heart is slowly being ripped into pieces. At least the physical pain can help deter some the emotional anguish you feel.

“Thank you,” Zayne keeps his eyes on you. He reaches out and places one hand on top of yours, stopping you from continuing. His hand is cold but it feels nice against your hot skin. “Do you think you can take a deep breath for me? I would like to ensure that you’re breathing.”

“I’m not your patient,” you snap back.

“Breathe with me as someone who is on your side, then.”

Your eyes glue themselves onto Zayne’s. Up close, his hazel eyes lean more onto the green side, the center of his iris having the most yellow compared to the outer rim. He slowly inhales, chest puffing out. You match his inhale, his eyes never leaving yours. When he exhales, so do you. Your heart begins to slow, your hot skin cooling down.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Zayne begins, catching you off guard. Tears immediately sting your eyes but ou blink them away, quickly recovering.

“Yeah?” your voice is raspy, ready to break at any moment.

Caleb and her stand in the middle of the dance floor, no longer moving. Your heart goes still, no more air in your lungs.

“Yes,” Zayne continues, “he doesn’t love you.” His words slice into your skin. How can you believe them, though? Isn’t Zayne biased against Caleb? Besides, Caleb isn’t here to defend himself. You can’t fully believe him! “He’s infatuated. There is no permanent love when it comes to infatuation, just lust and desire. A temporary love that will only leave you more broken than you started.”

“So you think I’m broken?” the words come out just above a whisper.

“I think he broke you.”

A breath leaves your mouth. Your lungs burn on the inside of your chest, cheeks pink from embarrassment and anger. You remain silent, drowning out the music and cheering voices. You blink away your tears but one escapes, rolling down your cheek. Your eyes turn back to the dance floor, finding Caleb’s back once again. You stare at him, unable to tear your gaze away while Zayne speaks.

“I saw the way he treated you when we were kids. You always came in last place while everyone else came before you. You weren’t a friend, you were a backup plan he had. Since she isn’t in Skyhaven but you are, he is bound to go to you instead of her. Do you know that he calls her whenever you aren’t around? He always texts her throughout the day and tells her how much he misses her, that he can’t wait to see her. Even while you were on your business trip, he was sending her photos and messages like any good boyfriend would.”

Boyfriend.

The word echoes inside your now screaming mind. You bottom lip trembles. Silent tears freely flow from your eyes. Every word is like a bullet that buries itself deep into your skin. Your muscles ache. You don’t even realize that your fists are balled on your lap, nails digging into your palms. The stinging pain helps divert some of the emotional weight that has been placed onto your shoulders but it’s not enough to carry the full package. You look down at your lap, palms now a bright red from the blood rushing to the crescent marks on your hands.

“You have always been second compared to her. But to me…you have always been first,” Zayne whispers.

You turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are red and irritated. Your shoulders slump as you fight off sobs and dry heaves. Nausea sweeps over your body. He reaches for you but you scoot back, your chair bumping into the others. You swallow nothing down your dry throat, the feeling leaving you sore and uncomfortable.

“I guess that makes you just like me, then,” your words shake and hang in the air. Zayne raises an eyebrow at you. His hands reach for yours but you pull away immediately, unable to even handle someone’s touch right now. He remains silent, his eyes burning into yours. You stand from the table and gather your belongings. You are about to step away when Zayne’s voice causes you to stop.

“How so?” Zayne asks after seconds tick by. 

“We both love someone who will never be able to fully love us back.”

From afar, Caleb steps away from her. He hesitates once he sees you and Zayne talking. His heart races inside his chest. His eyes flit between you and the doctor, watching your teary eyes reflect the lights of the venue. His heart splits in two.

You turn, wiping a tear from your eye, and head for the exit. You sling your purse over your shoulder, the body hitting your hip as you walk. Through teary eyes, you slip your phone from your bag and step out into the fresh night air. The wind chills your skin, cooling you down.

“Hey,” Caleb’s voice calls out from behind. You don’t turn around and instead pull up a taxi app on your phone. He places his hand on your shoulder but you’re quick to slip away. “What’s…what’s wrong? What did he say to you?” Caleb asks. When you don’t respond, he snatches the phone from your hands.

“Stop it, Caleb,” you warn. He stares at your screen, looking at your progress. You wrote about half of the address before he took the phone from you. You reach out, trying to get the tiny machine back, but Caleb immediately pockets it and grabs your face.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me—”

“Caleb! Get away from her!” Her shrill voice is like nails on a chalkboard to you. You flinch and push Caleb off of you, your mind now running at a mile a minute, unable to keep up with the unfolding situation. “We’re not done talking!”

“Go back inside!” Caleb calls out to her, but she doesn’t listen. She looks up at him with crazed eyes, lip snarled.

“We aren’t done talking. I don’t approve of your relationship with her!” She points to you. An arrow goes through your heart and breaks, the wood splintering and poking into your organs and veins. It would hurt but the pain you hold in your chest is already incomprehensible.

“Stop that!” Caleb says back. “Let’s talk about this later—”

“Later?” you chuckle, hysteria beginning to claim you as its own. Tears keep rolling down your cheeks. He turns to look at you. Your gaze sharpens. It makes his stomach drop.

“Does she not know what we’ve been through, Caleb?” she steps in between you and him. You don’t even do anything to stop it. You turn around and wipe your tears away, digging through your bag for the car keys. “Does she know that you and I are inseparable?”

“I said not now!” Caleb raises his voice. It only makes her angrier, though. “We’ll talk about this later. I need to—”

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account,” you interject. They stare at you with wide eyes. “I’ve always come between you, so i’ll just remove myself.” You nod and begin to walk away. Caleb grabs your hand, bringing you back to him but you remain at an arm’s length. His skin burns against yours. You try to wiggle away but his grip only tightens, cracking your bones.

“No. I need to comfort my girlfriend and make for sure that she is okay,” Caleb speaks directly at you. You shiver. He turns to her, “you have crossed a line. I’ll speak to you later.”

“NO!” she shrieks. “You are going to stay here and talk to me! I don’t care about her or her feelings! I never have! I have only ever cared about you, Caleb! Can’t you see that she is ruining us? Our relationship? She’s always been a poison! She’s going to push us apart! She’s seduced you! How can you live with that?”

Caleb doesn’t respond. You stare at his face, seeing the wheels turn inside his brain.

Anger boils over inside your chest but for once, you feel calm. The anger is no longer hot. It is cold, cool to the touch. It feels like you are breathing in the snowy winter air in Skyhaven. Your feet no longer drag against the ground. You no longer carry the weight of your sadness and pain on your shoulders. You are now light and airy, weightless.

You step around Caleb and yank your hand away from his. He watches you, purple eyes wide in the moonlight. You approach her, taking a deep breath as you look down at her. She takes a step back, a look of nervousness flashing across her face before she covers it up. You wait a few seconds, pulling together the right words to say.

“I am going to say this once and one time only. I am going to say this because Caleb doesn’t have a fucking backbone when it comes to you, so listen up,” you tower over her yet your face remains emotionless. It sends shivers down her spine. “I am not a poison. I am not worthless. I did not seduce Caleb. I am a human being with god damn feelings. You cannot treat me like I am the shit on the bottom of your shoe. You may have done that when we were kids and ruined my self esteem back then, but I’m not going to be your punching bag anymore.”

“I-I didn’t treat you like—”

“You cried on my birthdays and took half of my presents because you made my parents feel bad for you. You were smart back then, using your sob backstory to your advantage. You made fun of the way I dressed, the way I talked. Whenever I had friends over, you would cry and kick and scream to be included even though it was my friend group, not yours. You purposefully used my crush against Caleb against me. You dangled him in front of me knowing that I liked him, knowing that he was one of two people who ever treated me like a human being but even then it was close to nothing. The bare fucking minimum. You interrupted us doing homework and even ruined our first high school dance because you didn’t feel included. Well guess what, princess! It didn’t include you because you weren’t old enough! Sorry if that hurt your feelings, but some things just do not involve you!”

Her jaw drops. Caleb places his hand on your shoulder but you shrug it off.

“Now that I have finally found some peace in my life and have gotten to a place where I can feel human again, you just have to walk right in and ruin that too, right? Because seeing me thrive and be happy is the bane of your existence. How dare I be happy? How dare I reconnect with a boy I knew in my childhood!” You pause and take a deep breath, taking a single step forward and lower your voice, “I was just a kid just like you…but we’re adults now. You treated me like fucking shit just like you are now. You’ve haven’t changed. You’ve remained the same desperate little girl clinging to whatever she can to justify her shitty actions. Now, I don’t give a flying fuck what you think about Caleb and I’s relationship. We don’t need your permission. If he wanted you, he would be with you, not me. But I’ll give you once more chance. Just one. I’m going to go walk back to my car now,” you turn to Caleb, your face serious with an underlying anger in your eyes, “if he follows me, then I’ll take it that he actually wants to remain in my life. I’ll learn to co-exist with you for his sake because I’ll never ask him to choose between us, unlike you. If he stays behind with you, well, you’ve won. You two deserve each other. I’ll be the villain in your story. Just keep me the fuck out of it.”

Without wasting another second, you push past Caleb, shoulder bumping into his arm. You cross the grassy field at a fast pace, stopping to slip your heels off of your feet. You let out a frustrated yell and throw your shoe at the car. The alarm starts to go off and you grab your purse, furiously digging through to find the keys.

A pair of hands rest on top of yours. You pause and look up through your blurry vision. You can’t make out his face, but his cologne is familiar to you. Caleb sighs and pulls you into his arms. You tuck your head under his chin, finally letting go as sobs overtake your body. You ball your fists up and slam them against his arms. He takes every hit.

The two of you stand there until you fall silent, too tired to continue. Caleb looks inside your purse for you and grabs the keys. He clicks a button and the alarm stops blaring. Neither of you speak. No words fill the silence. He opens up the car door for you and you slip inside. The door remains open. He goes inside the back seat and grabs your sneakers. He comes around and takes your heels from you, brushing the dirt and blades off grass off of your feet, slipping your feet inside the shoes. He closes the door and gets inside the drivers side, quickly pulling away.

Both of Caleb’s hands remain on the wheel. You face away from him, staring outside the car window.

A part of you is grateful that he followed you. That he chose you. However, another part of your soul, your heart, aches at the fact that there is going to be a nuclear meltdown within the next couple of days that you will be forced to go through. She will certainly have words to share with you and for Caleb’s sake, you hope that he grows a backbone until then.

The drive is silent. Neither of you turn on the radio. The purr of the car’s old engine mixes in with the sound of the car’s A.C., the faint whirr in the background. You sniffle and hug your arms to your body. 

Caleb looks at you when the roads are empty. His heart rips into two, straight down the middle. The once lively heart, the boy who grow tired. His once constant positive attitude begins to wither. The inner boy inside of his soul begins to decay.

Is this how you have felt all of these years? he thinks to himself. Has the feeling of disappointment and despair chipped at your soul the whole time?

The car comes to a stop. You blink at your house, the gate closing behind the car. You get out before he can open the door. You make a beeline for the door, swiping the keys from your hands. You stare anthem under the orange porch light, the buzzing from a nearby bug catcher in the same tone as your simmering irritation. The door swings open and you turn around, pressing a hand to Caleb’s chest, stopping him from following.

“Find another way in. If you really want this,” you gesture between you two, “you’ll figure it out.”

Petty? Yes. Deserved? Fucking maybe. Who cares. He can hold this against you for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t complain. You, quite frankly, need to see him work for it instead of following like a puppy dog.

The door closes in his face. You press your back against it, the tears forming in your eyes once again. Quickly making your way up the stairs, you dart inside your bedroom, and strip away the dress on your body, throwing it to the side. You go to the bathroom and immediately hop in the shower, your jewelry remaining on your body as the cold water pours over you. It makes you alert, awake, and all too aware of what you said.

Do you regret it? No, not really. If anything, it was therapeutic for you to get out. Could you have been a bit nicer to her? Sure. Of course. But you weren’t. That’s a burden you’ll carry with you wherever you go.

You step out, face bare and body clean. After drying yourself off, you slip into one of Caleb’s old shirts and into a pair of spandex. You lay down in your bed, covering your face with the sheets, closing your eyes, wishing the pain would leave you alone.

Time ticks by. You don’t check your phone. You don’t have the energy to. How much time has passed? An hour? Fifteen minutes? Five? Two hours? It doesn’t matter. He hasn’t returned.

You sit up in bed, the sheets pooling around your waist. You look around, eyes grazing over the window where the moon hangs low in the sky. You sigh.

He’s left you, hasn’t he? Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he did. You wouldn’t blame him for it, either. You’re a mess. A complete and utter disaster that is holding on with three pieces of duct tape and a dream.

A clink on the window.

You turn your head, eyebrow raised. Another clink. You get up and push against the windows, pushing them open. You dodge a small pebble at the last moment, looking down at Caleb who stands on the ground below.

“Hi, pretty bird,” he calls out, “my lovely Juliet.” You roll your eyes.

He holds a few white flowers in his hand and a box in the other. His Evol plucks them from his hands, the objects hovering behind him. He approaches the vine wall on the side of your house. It leads directly up to your bedroom where your two windows are. He grabs hold of the wooden structure underneath the vines, his hands scraping against the thorns and stray sticks. They poke into his skin but he pushes through it, slowly climbing the vine wall to get to you.

Once Caleb is close enough, you lean out the window, noticing the dirt on his hands, the sweat that forms in beads across his forehead. He grunts every time he pulls himself up, the objects still floating behind him. His dirty hand grabs the windowsill, pulling himself up with one last burst of energy.

His face leans up to yours, mere inches away from each other. You don’t pull away and neither does he. You purse your lips and pull away, watching as he brings himself inside your bedroom with surprising elegance and grace. He shrugs his jacket off and tosses it to the side. The flowers and black box float into his hands, his purple eyes never leaving yours. 

You stand in the middle of your bedroom. His shirt is baggy on you, the material stretched and worn out from him over the years. The words are faded but you’re wearing his DAA exercise shirt. You like how comforting the cotton material is against your skin. He sighs, dirt covering his pants and white dress shirt. He takes a step towards you. Your eyes never leave his. You gulp.

“These…are for you,” he holds out the flowers. It’s a variety.

An apple red tulip. A white carnation. A light blue hyacinth. A single pink rose. A daisy.

“I got them from the gardens in the neighborhood. And this,” he taps the box, “is from the shop I worked at in high school.”

You take them from him, noticing the small specks of blood that sprouts from his thumb and index finger. He plucked off every single thorn so you wouldn’t get hurt. You rest them along your forearm and he steps forward, holding out the box. The stems of the flowers are uneven, most likely plucked from nearby gardens. He slowly opens it. On the inside is a small glass butterfly. Its wings is a deep red that fades into a light pink at the tips. Its body remains clear. Your heart aches. Your eyes fill with tears. You look up at him, bottom lip pouting out to try and stop you from crying.

“I…I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what Zayne said to you to make you cry and I really don’t know why she had to make things worse. I don’t know what to do or say to make you forgive me or what I need to do to make you fully trust me again,” he begins in a quiet voice. “All I know is that I love you. I love you…so much, pretty bird,” his voice cracks. You step forward and place a hand on his chest. It slows his beating heart almost instantly. “I can’t lose you. When you closed the door on my face, my world went black and white.”

“Caleb,” you cup his cheek with your free hand. He leans into your touch.

“I need you in your life…but I also need her in my life,” he whispers. You nod. “I can’t lose either of you and it pains me that there’s nothing I can do to help or mend the tension between you two.”

“It’s okay, Caleb,” you breathe out. He shakes his head.

“No. No it’s not. You’re my girlfriend, the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with. The way she treated you both in childhood and now is despicable. She’s not the same girl I used to know…so I called her. I set boundaries for us and made her realize that it’s you who I want to be with, not her.” 

Tears roll down Caleb’s cheeks. You gently wipe them away. He leans down and presses his forehead into yours. He takes a deep breath, you with him, and his hands finally touch you. He places them on your waist, remaining over the fabric of his shirt, and sighs.

“I know that our relationship isn’t going to be perfect. I know it isn’t going to be fixed overnight and to be bandaged up with a single sorry. That’s not possible. I know you’re hurting. Please…please let me take some of your pain away. Let me carry the tension and angst you feel in your body. Let me carry that load for you. Rely on me, pretty bird. Use me.”

“Caleb,” his name from your mouth is like the nectar of the gods. He pulls away and looks down at you. You sigh and bite your lip, peering into his deep purple and glossy eyes. “It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep it in.”

He nods. A single tear rolls down his cheek. You wipe it away. More follow. His tears are hot against your chilled skin. You wipe away every single one that comes out, his body shuddering. You peel away for a split second, placing the flowers and butterfly on your desk. You move back to him and pull him into your embrace. Caleb buries his face into your neck, arms tightly locking around your waist. He pulls you closer. You inhale the smell of dirt and sweat from his hair, holding the back of his head.

The two of you succumb to the ground. He leans forward, holding you in his lap, holding onto you for dear life. Your fingers tangle into his hair, massaging his head. He whimpers.

“Please don’t leave me,” he cries into your neck, his words muffled yet legible.

“I’m not,” you whisper into his ear.

You move his face in front of yours, your hands on his cheeks. You lean in and kiss away every single tear that falls down his face. Your lips become salty and hot. His tears mix with yours. He sniffles and squeezes your waist. His tears slow down and his breathing steadies. You remain in his arms, whispering reassurances to him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Caleb, we’re in this together, okay?” your voice is gentle despite the anger that remains inside your chest. He nods and takes a deep breath.

“Together?” Caleb repeats the word back to you. You nod.

“Together.”

please drop a like, reblog, & comment!! i love see what you all have to say <3

[julietcpulet]

so another thing that would’ve been great to include for the show was the horse jokes, like I get why they’re not there, Guildford hating it and all but in the book he actually enjoys being a horse when he is one just doesn’t like that he can’t control it and others feelings about it etc. and the banter between him and Jane is so hilarious…for example:

“I believe this is an opportune time to set some ground rules for this marriage.”

“Like what? Hay preferences.”

—-

“I would never chew on your books.”

“You ate my bridal bouquet.”

He looked suprised as though he’d forgotten. Then he nodded. “So I did. Continue.”

—-

“Are you sure your true Ethian form isn’t a jackass?”

“Very funny, my lady. And that reminds me” - he pointed a finger at her - “no horse jokes.”

He was making it too easy. “Ah, my lord, why the long face.”

—-

“No horse jokes,” he said.

“My lord, I apologize for the horse joke. If you put down the book - unharmed! - I will give you a carrot.”

He brandished the book at her. “Was that a horse joke?”

“Neigh.”

“Was that a horse joke?”

—-

This is all in the span of a couple pages. These two could’ve so pulled those jokes off and it would’ve been a riot 😂

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Choosing the Beast: Modern Folklore Heroines Embrace the Animal Husband

“I choose the bear.” The refrain rang out across the web, with many a woman nodding in agreement or at least understanding, and certain men huffing with indignant outrage. Just a meme, really, but did it speak to a deeper truth? Is it merely age-old mistrust of patriarchy talking, or a true desire for the beastly, the wild, the untame?

I’m no sociologist, of course, but I have noticed an emerging trend in fem-gaze media that seems to reflect this view. In movies like I Am Dragon (2015) and recent shows like My Lady Jane and The Acolyte, the heroine chooses the beast, loving her animal husband in his wild form rather than requiring him to transform back into a mundane man to earn her affection. This is such a departure from the typical folktale pattern that it’s difficult to even find an historic example where this occurs.

Commonly thought to reveal the desire to tame a dangerous mate in a patriarchal society, most animal husband tales (ATU 425a) feature a hero who ultimately transforms permanently into a human. This is viewed not only as freeing him from the maddening effect of his wild form, but also saving his bride from committing the sin of bestiality. In these tales, the animal mate’s transformation is necessary for the salvation of both.

Is the modern heroine then damned by choosing her husband’s beastly form? Or does she actually free them both from the yoke of patriarchal expectations?

Bathing: Discovering the Wild Masculine

The first motif that stands out in these modern screen examples is bathing. In animal spouse tales, there is often a dynamic of the hunter and the hunted, and thus a moment when the hunter comes upon their would-be lover unawares. Perhaps they find the animal spouse sleeping, or they cast a light on them unexpectedly, see them without their animal skin or disguise, and so on. And of course, they often come upon the lover at their bath.

There is an implied eroticism in this discovery, finding one’s quarry not only undressed, but also in the most private of activities. Water of course symbolizes fertility, but bathing is also purifying, symbolically washing away all that might make a mate undesirable. And this, perhaps, is the reason that historically this motif is used almost exclusively for animal brides, not animal husbands.

For the animal husband, he either actively chooses to reveal himself to the bride (perhaps on their wedding night), or she violently strips away his disguise, often armed with “flame and steel” like Psyche and her many avatars. Animal brides on the other hand are nearly always discovered at a body of water, bathing. The hunter will then capture her either by stealing her animal skin or cloak, or by placing his own clothing on her. What does it mean, then, when it is the husband who is discovered bathing in a body of water, held as an erotic object in the feminine gaze?

In The Acolyte, Osha follows Qimir to a pool where he slowly undresses, in full knowledge that she is watching. On the shore, she steals his lightsaber, just like the hunter who steals the animal skin, symbolically claiming him. When he emerges, Qimir dons new clothes, as if acknowledging that he is a different person than before he entered the water, almost purified in a way. Osha is forced to confront that there is more to the murderer in the mask than she realized.

Similarly, in My Lady Jane, our heroine goes looking for Guildford just before sunrise on their ill-fated wedding night, only to discover him bathing in the stables. The scene is gratuitously filmed from Jane’s (very horny) perspective, flipping the script on the countless scenes in screen history shot with the masculine gaze. Immediately after she discovers and confronts him, Guildford transforms against his will into a horse, and Jane realizes that he is an Ethian, a creature she has been taught is demonic and unnatural.

And in I Am Dragon, Mira makes several discoveries in quick succession: first, she deduces that Arman is actually the dragon. In the next moment, she slips from the island’s peak and falls, saved only when Arman transforms at the last moment and breaks her fall with his dragon form. The water begins to wash over his unconscious body, and at first Mira thinks that she will allow him to drown. But the sight of Arman in his human form after he rescued her, worried over by his animal familiar, stirs her to pity and she wraps him in a sail and drags him to safety. In this way, she clothes him, claiming him as her own.

Each of these heroines discovered a new aspect of her husband at the bath, finding him unexpectedly alluring, and ultimately choosing to begrudgingly claim him. Each animal husband tried to wash away his beastly form, to separate himself from the wild masculine. These men feel a sense of disassociation from a part of themselves, but now that their brides have discovered it, there will be no more hiding. Further, the bride now holds the power in the relationship, evidenced by how her husband needs her: Qimir needs Osha to be his apprentice, Guildford needs Jane to help him “break the curse,” and Arman needs Mira to heal him from his wounds.

Playing House: The Half-Husband

The second feature of these stories is a period of domesticity for the couple. For a brief time after the husband’s beastly nature is revealed, the lovers “play house” like children. While sexual tension is present, they typically do not consummate their union during this time, but instead cook, eat, rest, and care for one another. What’s more, they ignore or even attempt to actively destroy the husband’s animal form. They deny that this is part of him and therefore part of their relationship.

In I Am Dragon, Mira heals Arman, and wakes the next morning to find he has left food for her (dragonfruit, appropriately). Together they begin building a home out of shipwreck debris they find scattered around the island. A cheery montage shows them decorating a living space, choosing clothes, playing music, and dancing. But the specter of Arman’s monstrous form lurks on the edge of their idyllic life. Mira has nightmares, and tells Arman how much she fears “the dragon,” notably not referring to them as the same person. And eventually, it emerges that Mira has been planning to escape, rejecting Arman’s dragon form entirely.

After he sheds the helmet and robes of The Stranger, Qimir turns his attention to caring for Osha: he heals her, lets her sleep in his bed, provides clothes, and cooks for her. In turn, after some lightsaber-wielding, Osha becomes more comfortable in his home and accepts the food he offers, eventually even trying on his helmet. Later, they bicker amiably on their way to Brendok, like an old married couple on a road trip. When not facing down Jedi, Qimir leaves his menacing persona behind and transforms into an empathetic, protective, and alluring partner.

Jane Grey, meanwhile, finds herself using her honeymoon sequestered away in a private cottage to try to cure Guildford of his Ethianism. With her knowledge of medicine, she concocts various potions and magical cures, but none of them succeed. Guildford often checks in on her after these disappointments, making sure she’s getting enough sleep and taking care of herself. It’s also clear that they’ve been regularly dining together when Jane suddenly dashes off to rescue her friend. Guildford follows her and the two protect one another, followed by an almost-tryst. Even when they move into the palace, their day-to-day (or rather night-to-night) life is one of comfortable domesticity, although they continue to deny Guildford’s horse form.

In each of these cases (although less so in The Acolyte without Season 2 to continue the story), playing house can only last for so long while the husband’s animal nature is denied. There is a part of him that is suppressed, rejected, and this leads to him being incomplete, a half-husband. Each hero is unable or unwilling to accept and celebrate his whole self with his bride. Eventually, it is that denial that leads to a rift between the couple, which can only be healed not with the transformation of the husband, but with the embrace of his animal form.

Enforcing Patriarchy: The Rival

Each of these relationships exists in direct opposition to the dominant culture in the story: Arman as the Dragon is the literal enemy of Mira’s people, Qimir as Sith is the enemy of Osha’s Jedi masters, and in My Lady Jane, intermarriage between humans and Ethians is punishable by death. By choosing to stay with their animal husbands, even for a brief time, our heroines are openly defying the patriarchal norms of their societies. But no oppressive society is about to take that transgression lying down. In each story, a rival emerges to enforce the patriarchal order, kill the beastly husband, and retrieve the bride.

In I Am Dragon, Mira’s betrothed and descendent of the dragon-slayer, Igor, journeys to rescue her from the dragon. Over the course of the story, it becomes clear that Igor cares nothing for Mira herself, and merely feels entitled to her as his bride. Dragon-slaying is his heritage, so he must find her, kill the dragon, and take his place as the hero of his people. Even the marriage ceremony illustrates his ownership of her: he takes hold of a rope tied to her boat and reels her in, thus binding her to the patriarchal order. Contrast that to Arman, who offers her the power of flight, a symbol for freedom.

In Osha’s case, Qimir’s rival for her loyalty is clearly Master Sol, who wants to keep his former pupil dependent on him and the Jedi. Sol takes patronizing fatherliness to an extreme, constantly rescuing Osha rather than letting her stand for herself, teaching her to deny her feelings and instincts, and lying to her to “protect” her. The Jedi refuse to allow that there might be any other way to access the Force than their own, thus invading the home of the Brendok witches and ultimately orphaning the twins. Sol continues to press this dominance to the end, challenging Qimir and insisting to Osha that his own lies were justified.

In My Lady Jane, there are two rivals, both women. Lady Frances attempts throughout the show to dominate her daughters and crush their wills, forcing them into unwanted marriages, applying political pressure, and even counseling Jane to abandon Guildford to save herself. The other rival is Mary Tudor, who is determined not only to emulate her father’s violent, oppressive, and misogynistic reign, but to crush anyone she considers “unnatural” or who poses a threat to her rule. These characters stand as clear examples of how women can enforce patriarchy, too.

In each story, there is a moment when the rival briefly recaptures or “rescues” the bride from her beastly husband, bringing her to a moment of decision: will she stay within the bounds of patriarchy like a good little girl? Or will she make an act of defiance to choose her own path?

Marriage: Choosing the Beast

The bride’s choice will ultimately decide not only her fate, but that of her mate as well. As an independent character, the wild masculine is deeply wounded, separated from himself and thus from his bride. He longs to transform not into a greater, more whole person, but into a lesser, half-person. Alone, without the embrace of his anima, he cannot see the value of his beastly form. Instead of healing, he faces annihilation.

As a part of the bride’s psyche, the beastly husband represents her innermost desires, the truth of her heart, and a spirit freed from the expectations of her society. He is her animus, her missing wild masculine. If she transforms him into a man, then she will tame his wild nature, bringing him to heel under the boot of the patriarchy. Choosing the human form and rejecting the beast means rejecting her own psychological needs. It would be just another form of psychic dismemberment.

Fortunately and unusually, each of these modern brides chooses her beastly husband without demanding he transform. When Osha finally agrees to become Qimir’s apprentice, she takes his hand under the willow tree, clasping the newly-bled lightsaber between them. A few scenes later, this wedding imagery is repeated when they hold hands over the saber again, this time looking into a sunrise/set. Notably, at the moment they “marry” under the willow tree, Qimir is wearing his beastly helmet with rows of menacing, wolfish teeth. He has not come to the light side or shed his Dark Side persona, but Osha has embraced him anyway without fear. And while they might not both be healed (yet), they are more whole together than they were apart.

When her efforts to cure Guildford of his Ethianism repeatedly fail, Jane begins to suspect that his “condition” cannot be cured at all. But listening to her Ethian friends Susanna and Archer finally convinces her that the truth is Guildford doesn’t NEED to be healed - being an Ethian is who he is, and it’s nothing to fear. Unfortunately, Guildford still associates his beastly form with his mother’s death, so he is unable to accept it as Jane encourages, and flees. After a near-death experience, he uses his equine speed to return to the castle just as Jane is deposed and captured. As our heroes battle toward the end, Guildford comes to learn that there are many other proud Ethians, and that his family loves and accepts him in any form.

Still, he’s unable to transform at will, and when Mary captures him and sentences both husband and wife to death, it seems their story may end in tragedy. But as Guildford has been struggling to accept himself, Jane too has been battling with her own conscience. Does she renounce Guildford to save herself? Use her wits to kill the guard and escape? Bend to her mother’s manipulation? Jane confronts each temptation, and ultimately chooses to face death rather than betray Guildford or herself. But when her Ethian friends (the wild instinct) appear to disrupt the execution, our heroine seizes the opportunity to rescue Guildford. Unable to free him from the burning pyre, she confesses her love for him, and they kiss amid the flames.

Fire is often a herald of transformation, burning away illusions to reveal the truth. And when Jane and Guildford exchange their vows in this symbolic marriage ceremony, Guildford’s fears and illusions are finally burned away. Now that his bride has accepted his beastly form, he can accept it too, and so he at last transforms at will into a horse so that they can escape. Their story ends with them married and whole before the sunrise.

Among our modern heroines, Mira is the boldest in her embrace of the beastly husband. Offered yet again as a bride to Igor, she realizes that this is not what she wants, and casts off the tether from her boat. She declares “I love the Dragon!” using the name of her husband’s animal form rather than his human name. Then, she sings the song that will call the dragon to her, and he appears to carry her away again.

But their story is not over yet! Earlier in the story, Arman told Mira of how he loses control when in dragon form, and that dragons are compelled to reproduce by burning maidens to death and retrieving their offspring from the ashes. Returning to the island with her a second time, the dragon drops her on the altar and prepares to spew fire, but Mira lunges up and kisses him. This act of love, even when he is a monster, stuns the beastly husband. Again, Mira declares her love and kneels before him, saying she does not wish to be parted. We might expect the animal husband to transform in this moment, but instead he lays his fearsome head in her lap as a lover. Their story ends with a child and a flight in the sky, silhouetted by the sun just like the other couples.

Each bride, when confronted with the option to return to the patriarchal limits of her childhood, chose instead an act of love and acceptance for her wild masculine. This embrace helped the beastly husband to accept his whole self, and he is healed without having to cut off the wild parts of himself.

What Does It Mean?

Again, this story is so rare in world folklore that it’s difficult to even find examples. On fleeting occasions that the woman chooses an untransformed beast, it is presented as a cautionary tale. These women are framed as a danger to the community for their bestial impulses and abandonment of the social order, much like witches who were said to consort with the devil. It was certainly never presented as a happy ending, insofar as we can tell from written accounts.

So what does the emergence of this tale mean for our culture? I would argue that this is just the latest step in our ongoing reckoning with historic gender roles, as well as renegotiating with other forms of systemic oppression. People of all genders are pressured to reject a part of ourselves, cutting us off from our own truth and desires that run counter to the enforced social order. We must not challenge patriarchy, must not embrace different gender expressions, must not blur established hierarchies of power, must not find joy and power in our identities, and so on.

This enforced denial does tremendous damage to everyone caught in the system, and so through story, we dream our way to escape. We dream of embracing the dark, wild parts of ourselves, of flying free on a spaceship or a dragon or enchanted horseback, and of being totally loved for who we are.

It’s clear patriarchy is still fighting back against this emancipation of the wild feminine and wild masculine, given that both The Acolyte and My Lady Jane were canceled not long after their release. In the case of The Acolyte in particular, there was a sustained campaign from its announcement to harass and silence the creators. Demoralizing as this phenomenon may be, it’s important to remember WHO ultimately owns these stories:

“Fanfiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk.

-Henry Jenkins, NYT 1997

Ah, an oldie-but-goodie. But Dr. Jenkins is right. Corporations may greenlight, film, release, and then cancel these stories, but ultimately they belong to the people. We take from these tales what speaks to us, leave what does not, and then retell them ourselves in fanfiction, in art inspired by the stories, and in lessons we pass on to our friends and families. If the embrace of the wild masculine speaks to you, let the story take root in your own life. Do you know someone who needs to be embraced, just as they are? Do you need to accept the parts of yourself that society tells you to hate? Do you want to be free, healed, and whole?

If so, then let these stories show you how, and tell more like them. Embrace the beast, and find your joy.

Sources:

Beauty and the Beast Tales From Around the World by Heidi Anne Heiner

In Search of the Swan Maiden: A Narrative on Folklore and Gender by Barbara Fass Leavy

And a relevant song for you, as a treat:

Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Ph.D.

[sky-scribbles]

'I’m not trying to ‘claim’ Austen as asexual or aromantic. We can never know how someone from the past might have identified if they were alive today. The point is: we miss something when we assume that sexual and romantic feelings have been the greatest consideration of anyone’s life, and fail to look at the relationships they did value.'

I really wanted to write about the potiential of Jane Austen being aspec in my book - and, more importantly, why we need to stop obsessing over her romantic life altogether. But I had to cut it for space, so... here it is in article form!

[rblxmaxxing]

🏙 admins !! .!!!

finally made some proper refs(?( So i can b less inconsistent when i draw themmm.... will be making more for other admins/mods but i jusr wanted to show these 4 first c:

Random little hcs/information yapfest i made abt them below the cut lalala

builderman

- mainly stays in his office more , taking care of paperworks and planning out renovations/locations/etc to further improve robloxia . also Used to do a lot more heavywork back then

- still likes to interact and stay in touch with the communities sometimes, Taking note to any concerns/feedback . Though most of the time this work is handled by john and jane doe now !

- has slight buckteeth That they can hide mosttt of the time (Beave r ) also subconsciously chews on things (typically any woodlike material) to focus / calm down

- can use their tail to lean back / sit since its sturdy enough to support her :D

roblox

- the body they present in is merely a vessel and isnt their true appearance . Said vessel is actually a mass produced helper model that aids in smaller tasks around hq . the only difference itd probably have from the bot models is their shirt color (roblox's blue, bot is a darkish grey)

- was partnered with builderman to help build up robloxia in its earlier stages , but now rarely pops in to interfere

- the bluegrey wires that stem from its back r supposed to be like puppet strings (sort of like a symbolic? design feature idunno? would not actually appear if that makes sense)

- sort of cared more about the clear order and flow of things as opposed to bm's more creative freedom kind of ideals

- face doesnt emote much. its eyes can open and shut but thats it

dusek

- was created alongside a handful of other admins to help keep the growth of robloxia steady and in control As well as improving it in their own ways

- dusek in particular specialized more with magic Creating architecture plans and the like

- their real head is actually just a flame/light of some sort , the dusekkar hat keeping it contained sort of . More flames spill out of their eyesockets to convey stronger emotions

- more info soon Sorry i am slowbraining

shedletsky

- used to go by telamon and was one of the many created to help in robloxias earlier production; Had bigger roles back then but nowadays just helps out in the hq with paperwork esque tasks

- can technically shapeshift to some extent Though there are two specific details that will always stay no matter what form he takes – one is that part of his form will always be a type of bird , and the other is the mark on his face not being able to be hidden

- made 1x1x1x1 a bit before he let go of the identity of telamon , was supposed swap in as a sort of successor before Shit Went Down (more info on this soon its . a wip)

- weird sort of??? cannibal??? (part chicken And eats chicken)

- has gotten a bit rusty in swordfighting now, but still likes to engage in it from time to time

[telamon will have its own little yapfest i Tried to limit it here]

If you got here and read all of that then um . dont perceive me 🦭🦭🦭 combustsinto flames and dies

[gay-dorito-dust]

:33 can you imagine Ford reading his book trying so hard to focus on the paragraph but like- He’s so distracted by Reader’s kisses and snuggles like like they’re acting like a cat and Ford just kalskskdjskdk

Ford was trying his hardest to get through the paragraph, he really was, but when you were sleepy ford found that you tended to become more affectionate. As was the case when he felt you snuggle up into his side as closely as you physically could while pressing tender kisses to his jaw and side of his neck.

‘Beloved.’ Ford said softly.

‘Yes my dearest?’ You purred, nuzzling your head into his chest, pressing a kiss there because you felt like it, that and you didn’t think you give Ford as much affection as he deserved…also the little hitches in his breathing were delicious.

‘I’m- im trying to read and you’re being quite-‘

‘Distracting?’ You asked and you could see the blush spreading across his face as his fingers toyed with the corners of the pages belonging to the book he was reading. For someone as smart and eloquent as him, you lived for the days where you got to see him be flustered and unsure of himself when it can to displaying affection, especially seeing as he had went without such for a good majority of his life.

‘I’m afraid so my dear, you know how easily affected I am by your preferred form of affection.’ Ford replied, feeling his mind falter and freeze upon feeling your lips once again kindly greet the skin of his jawline, little kisses scattered across it that it almost felt ticklish. He knew you were smiling and feeling proud of yourself because he could feel it pressed up against the pulse point of his neck.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about my sweetheart,’ you spoke against his skin, closing your eyes as you felt his skin grow warmer under your lips as his pulse pulsed against them as though eagerly reciprocating your kisses with his quick it was going, ‘I thought a man like you could keep his composure.’ You added with a chuckle, knowing from firsthand experience that wasn’t the case at all.

‘I’m afraid that does not count when in the presence of a true beauty of a person such as you may love.’ Ford felt you stiffen as he smiled to himself, yes he could be poetic as they come, he had to read Jane Austen’s books for a class once in college and could recite anything from that book off by heart from how often he annotated the poor book front to back, and in incredible depth too.

‘Who knew you’d be a man of such flattering words Stanford.’ You teased as you were now practically half sat on his lap that Ford had to lay a hand against the small of your back to keep you pressed against. Ford chuckles as he hurries his face into your head, hiding his sweet smile, ‘only for you my dear, only for you.’ He chants softly and you couldn’t help but thank whom ever for bringing Ford to you, for he was the best thing to have ever happened in your life, and you would gladly dedicate yourself to showing him just how much you adore him; it was the least you could do for the man you loved to death.

‘You deserve to be caressed by words, not showered in them. kissed, not smothered. Praised with words whispered in your ears rather than out loud in public as though it was a spectacle. I want to love you in moments like these, soft, slow, forgettable to most but memorable to others who don’t live life in the fast lane and forget to cherish the quieter parts in life.’ You tell Ford sincerely as you positioned your head back to rest against his shoulder, while his hand absentmindedly stroked your side softly, slowly; his book long forgotten as you both decided to enjoy each others company without making a freaks spectacle out of it.

[yowumi]

CONSUME ME.

— pairing. osamu dazai x reader x chuuya nakahara [bsd]

✧˚ · . warnings. minors do not interact! 18+, they are all old friends who worked for the port mafia, teasing, they have to work together for a mission, teasing, hinting of past sexual encounters, yes chuuya and dazai are on that gay shit, all characters are in their 20’s, smut.

✧˚ · . a/n. hey guys it’s aries! i just started watching bsd and i love it so far and came up with this idea while making mac and cheese so here we are lol ^-^

pt. 1 // pt. 2 (coming soon)

getting out of the port mafia is hard, but not impossible.

that’s the words you repeated to yourself the day you left, while you ran through the streets with only a bag of weapons and one spare of clothes, as you wiped out hundreds of men chasing after you with bullets shooting over your head, as you ran away from that place for good.

it’s a vivid memory, one that should be celebrated on yet it felt more like a loss, grief. as a stray away young teenager it felt like home but as you grew and matured, you couldn’t help but hate what you were doing. — did you really want to be controlled by him your whole life?

after countless attempts of leaving the port mafia in your earlier years from rebellion and wanting to ‘make a statement’ on how much he really needed you, none of your attempts had ever worked. or more so, you never let any of them work.

the acting out played out for a while, that was until new recruits joined the port mafia. two boys, one named dazai, a tall man with chocolate hair, he had such a boyish demeanor at times, yet his eyes always felt so dark, deprived of the light. the other was named chuuya, a blunt man filled with pride and slight temperament when accompanied dazai. you can’t deny they complimented each other well. despite the circumstances of the port mafia’s harsh nature, seeing the two bicker and argue like teenagers felt refreshing. It was something you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

the two boys were accompanied by you after then, you three became quite close over time, sharing teenage memories with each other as you grew stronger, complimenting each others abilities in combat. although dazai rarely participated in hand to hand, unless necessary.

it wasn’t until a drunken night on chuuya’s eighteenth birthday that the three of you had played a spicy game of truth or dare.

“is it true that your wearing a wig” chuuya grins at dazai with a teasing expression as he sips the cocktail in his hand.

you’d laugh playfully pulling on dazai’s hair, earning a small wince from him.

“you can find out if it’s the real thing tonight when your pulling on it” he cheekily remarks.

“yeah right as if” chuuya rolls his eyes.

and it didn’t take long before the little brain cells left inside you from the alcohol began forming like a lightbulb turning on in your head.

“let’s spice this game up a bit, truth or dare but if you chicken out, you’ve gotta strip!” you presented to them excitedly and dazai claps with approval. chuuya on the other hand sighs in approval.

let’s just say by the end of the night, the three of you were stripped down to your undergarments, after many requests of pranking the boss, which no one had the balls or idiocy of doing even while drunk.

“truth or dare?” you asked chuuya.

“truth”

“is it true that you’re a virgin?” you blurted out without thinking, you were all very close so you didn’t think much of asking personal questions.

unexpectedly, his cheeks turned a light shade of red as he looked away huffing as he stared at his underwear being the only piece of clothing left on his body. “dazai close your eyes, don’t wanna hurt your ego” chuuya snarks at him implying he doesn’t want to answer which only makes dazai’s eyes widen.

“wow, with someone with such a big talking game, you still haven’t managed to get your dick wet yet?” he teased.

“wait you’re being serious chuuya?” you furrow your eye brows at him.

“i’ve done other things, don’t go pinning me as a plane jane alright, i just haven’t had sex that’s all” he admits, “dazai are you even one to talk! i doubt any women would want to do anything with you considering how much you rant about suicide!”

“perhaps your right” he says casually before his eyes lighten with an idea, “y/n, truth or dare?” he asks, suddenly excited making you worried. dazai thinking was never a good thing.

“fuck it, dare”

a smirk appears on his face as he looks at chuuya and you, “I dare you to take his virginity”

chuuya and your face widen as a blush creeped upon the two of your faces. suddenly feeling a bit nervous, “I, uh-“ you stutter, not knowing whether that would be okay to do with your friend. you wouldn’t mind, and of course you knew the two of your friends were very attractive so can’t deny sexual thoughts have crossed your mind late at night when you laid alone in bed but this all seemed so fast, faster than your brain could keep up.

dazai leans into you, slightly holding your waist firmly and pressing his lips near your ear whispering, “oh and let’s not forget that whoever chickens out has to strip” he emphasizes the word strip. “and from what i see, you only have your bra and panties left, i don’t think it’s smart to leave yourself vulnerable like that in front of two men…especially in this state…” he turns his gaze down to his briefs making you look down with him, noticing the bulge popping out against his leg while he looks back to chuuya who’s noticeably hard. you hadn’t even realized it before.

that night you had took chuuya and dazai’s virginity, and they took yours. it was a day you couldn’t seem to forget no matter how drunk you were. the line between the three of you was crossed and it never went back, making it ritual that the three of you were together in all ways.

that was until dazai left a few months later.

after he left, he didn’t leave any trace, no warning, nothing. if it weren’t for a report sent back after weeks of looking for him that he was surely alive but he didn’t want to come back.

chuuya and you grew distant after the fact. instead of the light mood and energy that you two were usually surrounded by, it felt as if the two of you were grieving dazai. not just as a friend, but as a partner.

for the last year you stayed in the port mafia, which was about a year after dazai had left, you and chuuya would spend nights together in your shared apartment, the apartment all three of you used to share.

it always hit the two of you at night that he wasn’t there, that’s when you and chuuya were brought together. silently, whether it was searching for comfort as you held each other as you slept, or angry sex from the frustration of work and the loss of dazai, or looking at each other with understanding, understanding of the same feeling brought upon both of you.

you had made a promise that you would tell him if you were planning to leave the port mafia.

you broke that promise when you had proceeded in refusing to help bomb an orphanage, not wanting to cause harm to children, that was always where you crossed the line. that was always the hard topic for you and you had thought that was something you and the port mafia had agreed on. you were wrong and no isn’t an answer in the port mafia. you were informed by one of your colleagues that they planned on assassinating you, for your disobedience as it was a very important mission needed to be done, something only you could pull off with your strategic planning and stealthy combat skills.

you had no time to leave, it was urgent and non negotiable. if you hadn’t left at that exact moment, you were surely going to be executed.

so you ran.

and you didn’t stop until you knew you couldn’t be found. you tried to find comfort working underground, doing some dirty work, something you were already familiar with. you worked for a on the low agency that helped take down dangerous organizations. it was like the fbi except…the government was some of the people you were mainly trying to take out…

after time of building a name for yourself in the under world, being the go to for underground highly advanced assassinations on huge corporations, ones nobody could dream of touching. your ability allowed you to remain invincible, not physically but not a single soul has been able to sense your presence, you didn’t have any fingerprints or bodily identification that could be left behind. you were the definition of stealth which made you dangerous yet wanted by many.

it didn’t take long for you to have everything you wanted, from where you sat, the port mafia couldn’t take you down unless they gave it their all, same as dazai. they knew it would be a means to war if they were to force us back. a war they wouldn’t be able to win.

you couldn’t deny that it felt lonely, the years you spent alone. you tried looking for chuuya, you watched over him, sometimes you would even stalk him trying to figure out what he was up to these days. dazai on the other hand, you somehow couldn’t find yourself to look for him.

dazai was being looked for, they were trying to bring him back, they wanted him. If he left, it was only because he wanted to.

there was always something so distant about him, he kept up such an act that made him seem okay constantly, never letting his guard down. yet, something about him always felt distant, as if he was right there yet meteors away.

for years, the silent distance between the three of you marinated, not having any connection between each other, no communication, nothing.

that was until 3 years later, you were informed that chuuya and dazai had a little reunion, without you.

you stared blankly at the report given to you of the information, not knowing how to feel towards the situation. pictures were provided and you can’t deny that they aged well. dazai grew a few inches, he wore lighter clothes now, taking on a more casual look rather than the edgy one he wore as a teen. chuuya on the other hand hadn’t grown much since, although his face matured more and his hair grew out a bit, you also recognize he took on a better sense of style.

you put the paper down and threw it in the trash.

their reunion had nothing to do with you, therefore you should be kept uninterested. the past is in the past.

a few days later you had received a visitor at home in the middle of the night, which was rare because you didn’t receive house visits. you grabbed your gun from your night table making your way towards the presence you heard near the kitchen. looking around for any sign of life, you pointed your gun up before being blinded by the lights turning on in the darkness of the night. you quickly gained your composure before you felt a warm body behind you and a hand coming towards yours which was holding the gun.

bandages.

you knew who’s hand that was, you knew that hand all too well. your legs felt the sudden urge to weaken and your breath hitched as you felt him inches away behind you. feeling his breath against your ear as you felt him lean in, “you didn’t think i’d forget about you, did you?” he let out a soft chuckle against your ear as he took the gun from you.

“how did you get in here dazai” you say bluntly not daring to turn around to look at him, in fear of losing your composure, or perhaps your sanity in this case.

this seemed funny to him and you realize how stupid the question is. — why wouldn’t he be able to get in here?

you grew with annoyance swiftly pulling a move fast enough for you to take out a small knife from under the small shorts you were wearing and backed him into a corner, pointing the weapon towards his neck.

“why are you here.” you finally look him in his eyes for the first time in years, taking in the close proximity between the two of you.

“would you believe me if i said a friendly reunion over some drinks?” he teased, “i came back because…” he leans in closely knowing you wouldn’t kill him, “i need you.” he whispered in almost a whine, one you were familiar with.

you were taken by surprise by his words about to kick him in the nuts for his stupidity before a voice comes out from the back.

“you shouldn’t tease dazai, you know that only results in punishment” chuuya’s voice echoed out from the couch that he sat splayed across on. you look up at him feeling immediately guilt in your stomach remembering how you left him.

dazai quickly notices this trying to change the conversation with the mention of drinks. “you must have some type of alcohol in the house, right?” he starts searching and rampaging through your cabnits as he looks for any sign of alcohol.

“aha!” he lifts up an old bottle of wine that hasn’t been opened pulling the lid off effortlessly as he cheered.

you go sit down on the couch next to chuuya where he stares silently at you, “been a while” he says barely making eye contact with you.

“yeah..” you say awkwardly, not knowing what to say. you figured you would tell him you were sorry now while you have the chance as dazai is distracted, “listen, i’m sorry about how i left, i just-“ you were cut off by chuuya.

“don’t worry about it, i’m not holding grudges” he says giving you a slight comforting smile in the best way he can considering his usual blunt and annoyed manner.

you smile back as you two sit in silence, taking each other’s in as you looked at each others new appearances with age and maturity.

looking at him from up close forced you to really look at him and his features, taking in the way his eyes slightly softens when dazai speaks to him from the kitchen or how he plays with the rings on his fingers as he speaks, when you really took the time to look at him, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by him.

stealing you away from your thoughts, dazai awakened you from your gaze when he calls your name out for what must have been a few times now asking if you want him to serve you a cup, you nod in reply.

as dazai sits down, placing the cups filled to the brim with liquor on the small coffee table that laid in the middle of your nearly empty apartment.

“you should get plants or something ya know, it’s so depressing in here, your house looks like the inside of a grandmas vagina” dazai speaks freely — as always, when does he not?

“how the hell would you know what a grandmas vagina looks like?” you furrow your eye brows at a cheeky dazai, giggling in response.

“i’ve been around, the ladies love me ya know” he sarcastically brags, as chuuya shoots him looks of judgement with a small scoff, “you disgust me.” he takes a sip of his drink.

times like these reminded you of your teenage years, memories that made your time serving the mafia feel not so bad.

“you never answered my question…” you’re still curious as to why they came back to you after years, it was all so sudden. there had to have been a reason, right?

chuuya gives dazai a look emphasizing that he should tell her, dazai rolls his eyes in defeat. he really hated having to change the mood.

“the port mafia are planning to hunt you down so until further notice, i was informed that i needed to take you in so you can receive protection from the angency.” he says taking a sip from his cup.

you look towards chuuya, “and you?” you ask.

his face flushes just for a moment before looking down almost in embarrassment, “…i uh volunteered or whatever..” he looks away.

your face grew with concern coming closer to him, “wait? but that would be a betrayal to the port mafia, would it not?”

he looked up at you, “yeah but it’s fine.” he says plainly trying not to make a big deal out of it. “dazai dragged me into it anyways, pestering me and shit” he glared at dazai sitting next to him.

“hey! you joined without hesitation, it didn’t take much convincing out of him-“ his words cut off with the slap of chuuya pushing a napkin in his mouth left with a pouty dazai.

“well i guess i don’t have much of a choice in this, do i?” you ask.

“nope.” both of them say, dazai with a grin and chuuya with annoyance.

you get up and leave the room making your way to your own bedroom, receiving confused looks and ‘huh’s from the both of them.

you come out within a few seconds with a duffel bag filled with your belongings.

“you were trained well” dazai grins.

“so where are we heading?”

.

.

.

link to part 2 (coming soon)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Common Romance Tropes

If you want to write a romantic short story or novel, it’s vital that you learn the basic love tropes that are a part of the genre, so that you can work with them (or against them) to form a love story your readers will identify with.

Love Triangle. One of the most common tropes of romance literature: three characters are competing for each other’s love, and only two will pair off. This is a favorite romance trope for creating tension, since the reader wonders who will pair off and who will be left alone with their painfully unrequited love. Will she choose the bad boy or the geek? Will he choose the cheerleader or the ugly duckling? Love triangles are the ultimate trope to appeal to “shippers”—readers who like to pick a side and play matchmaker. Example: Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (2008).

Secret Billionaire. A billionaire or member of a royal family is tired of their lavish lifestyle, and they sneak out of the spotlight—and, in disguise, run into someone who treats them as if they’re an ordinary person. Whether or not this leaves them frustrated or entranced, it has a little more pizzazz than the standard “boy meets girl” story—and the end result is often true love. Example: Naked in Death by Nora Roberts (1995).

Friends to Lovers. They’ve known each other since they were childhood friends or they recently met each other, and now things are heating up—even though they used to see each other as just friends, they now see each other as a potential love interest. This trope is popular because we get to see two characters bond with each other as friends first, which allows them to be more open with each other without a physical relationship getting in the way. As their feelings for one another—and the sexual tension—build, we can’t help but want them to get together so we can watch them go from “best friends since high school” to “happily ever after.” Example: Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell (2012).

Stuck Together. There are plenty of variations of the “stuck together” trope, which is often a staple of romantic comedies: two people trapped in a snowed-in cabin, forced to stay with each other overnight at the office, on a road trip, or even stuck in an arranged marriage. However it happens, this trope will trap two characters—whether they’re sworn enemies or already attracted to one another—in the same place and let the drama ensue. Example: From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata (2018).

Enemies to Lovers. Enemies to lovers is a beloved trope, made popular by Jane Austen in the classic novel Pride & Prejudice: two people who hate each others’ guts (usually for ridiculous reasons) end up overcoming their differences and angst and ending the story with a (spoiler!) declaration of love. The “enemies to lovers” trope often goes hand-in-hand with the “stuck together” trope, since putting two enemies in a room together can lead to some very juicy results. Example: The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (1594).

Forbidden Love. One of the most famous love stories of all time, Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare, is a classic example of forbidden love: two characters who aren’t allowed to have feelings for each other can’t help but become entangled in a romantic relationship. The things that separate them could range from the family politics in Romeo and Juliet to the bloodsucking problem in Stephenie Meyer’s paranormal romance Twilight. And of course, things will always get more complicated—whether the couple is discovered sneaking out together or with a secret baby after an accidental pregnancy. Example: The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks (1996).

Second Chance. Two lovers break up and then long for each other. Someone is looking for love again after a bad divorce. Or the hero/heroine’s fairytale turned out to be a nightmare, and now a new romance will give them hope again. The “second chance” trope is where our character missed their chance during their first love and are about to encounter a second. Their next blind date or one-night stand might be the experience that helps them believe in love again. Example: Once in a Lifetime by Harper Bliss (2015).

Soul Mates. The “soul mates” trope is a story about two characters who are meant to be together as each others’ “one true love.” But any story would be boring if everything were going just fine for the couple—that’s why many romance writers that use the “soul mates” trope need to also drive them apart somehow. Whether there’s a horrible misunderstanding or a natural disaster that separates them, soul mates in love stories always find a way to get back together. Example: The Princess Bride by William Golding (1973).

Fake Relationship. They didn’t ask for this. Maybe they’re tired of telling everyone they’re single, or they have to pretend like they’re in love to get out of an awkward social situation. Maybe two characters agree to a marriage of convenience in order to subvert the law or get a better tax break, or a friends with benefits situation to stave off their loneliness. But of course, in many “fake relationship” stories, what began as a fake relationship quickly turns into true love. Example: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han (2014).

A trope in literary terms is a plot device or character attribute that is used so commonly in the genre that it’s seen as commonplace or conventional. For example, a trope in superhero stories is a villain who wants to take over the world. The romance genre, in particular, is full of tropes—from Shakespeare plays to modern-day bestsellers, it’s easy to see patterns when you start to look.

Ways Tropes Are Helpful to Writers

Help offer readers things that are familiar. Tropes are popular for a reason—if something has been written about over and over again, there’s a good chance that it’s something romance readers enjoy reading! Popular romance tropes are a great place to start when coming up with your love story idea, because they’re guaranteed to be familiar territory to readers that they’ll enjoy.

Give you a jumping-off-place to innovate. Tropes can be helpful, but a novel made up only of tropes will quickly start to feel stale and predictable to readers. That’s why you need to read up on romance tropes—and then innovate. Deliberately taking a favorite trope and turning it on its head is a great way to put your own unique spin on the genre and keep your readers interested.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[bambi-kinos]

What’s up with paul obsession with sex?? Im seeing many posts about paul being asked different things and he doing a 180• and answering about sex?

Some people are just naturally more horny than others. Paul is just kind of like that and always would be no matter where his life went.

Paul was initiated into a world of no-limits sex when he was 18 years old and he was made a man through the introduction to truly wild sexual expression in Hamburg. He was introduced to sexual ideas and scenes that he never imagined existed and would probably shock even us internet people.

Once he knew that kind of horny could be on tap, there's no way he was going back to an ordinary life of a wife who put out once every 2 weeks. He is telling the truth when he said he wanted to be a rockstar so he could have sex with a lot of girls. The Hamburg residency was not just musical, it was also sexual and Paul put a lot of effort into studying music and sex. And yes if you want to be good at it then you have to make it a discipline and a study and you have to practice. A lot of Paul's sexual interests were first practiced on brothel girls who were up for anything and he clearly learned a lot.

His best mate was John Lennon, a guy notoriously against restrictions. John encouraged Paul's sexual expression as he did for thousands if not millions of women all over the globe. There are lots of people with stories about spending the night with John and coming out as different people on the other side.

Paul is terrified of being alone but not willing to commit to true intimacy. Sex is an easy way to have someone's physical company for a few hours but he can jettison a sex worker the moment she becomes too much trouble. Some people have emotional support dogs, Paul has emotional support hookers.

Paul demands artificial closeness where he is benefitting materially from his time and mental investment but he still controls the field and sets the terms. This defines most if not all of the non-Beatle relationships in his life. See: Nancy Shevell, Jane Asher, Robert Fraser, Jane Asher's mother. All of these relationships while supposedly "deep" and "close" all end up mirroring Paul's patronage of prostitutes. They are for his emotional and/or material benefit and he will end them the moment they become inconvenient no matter how personally fond of them he may be. See: Heather Mills, Jane Asher's family when she broke up with him.

Sex is an emotional and material benefit for Paul that doesn't require a lot of work or investing from him because he has something they want. For sex workers this is his money and his company; for regular people it's his money and his company and the illusion that they have a special relationship with him. Paul even gets an additional bit of chuff from selling this illusion and he enjoys their emotional back and forth while knowing he has the power to end it at any moment. Very reassuring for a lonely control freak. All of it is a form of prostitution.

Coping with his own PTSD from Beatlemania and a traumatic upbringing. Paul, like the other Beatles, was sexually assaulted, chased, yanked, punched, spat on, forcibly kissed, and stalked by deranged fans. This is on top of his childhood with abusive parents that couldn't decide what they actually wanted to teach their kids.

Frankly I think that Paul's sex obsession is a response to the parentification he experienced when Mary died and responsibility for the entire household dropped on him all at once. See the "but what will we do without her money" quote which was the exact moment that Paul realized he was now head of the household no matter what Jim said or did. Sex becomes a comfort/distraction/break/escape as a result. Remember, Paul was partially driven into John's arms because Jim was beating Paul at home.

John was very horny and Paul mirrored his actions and desires. John and Paul were not just mirroring each other musically or emotionally, they mirrored each other sexually as well. The timing of Linda's first pregnancy implies to me that Paul wanted to try for a baby because Yoko was pregnant. The end result was Mary.

John mentored him sexually and eased him into uncomfortable but still safe situations like the group wanks to further mold Paul's desires in a direction John liked. He encouraged Paul's revealed preference for enjoying feminization by putting him in the position of being John's girlfriend/wife, something John likely picked up on when Paul fed him toast as a teenager. Many of Paul's sexual habits and needs were shaped and fostered by John into something that complimented his own. That is why John took Paul to Paris to play the part of "Mrs. Lennon on honeymoon" and not Cynthia. Remember that Paul affirmed John's masculinity in their relationship by putting John's package at the center of this photograph of them coming out of the Louvre:

John is obsessed with sex and has a high sex drive, Paul drove his higher to compete and match this, they were fucking like bunnies, the end. Now John is gone and part of the wreckage left by his passing is that Paul has an unbearable sex drive and no one he can trust to exhaust him properly. They learned how to fuck girls together and then how to fuck each other, together. The most formative relationship of Paul's life was centered around sex.

None of this is a shitpost btw I am being completely sincere with all of this.

[runnning-outof-time]

TO BE LOVED ONCE AND TRUE

TOMMY SHELBY X fem!OC — ON-GOING SERIES

Summary: A woman from Tommy’s past re-enters his life via a letter asking him to help get her brother out of a tough situation. What will happen when the finer, more glaring details of that situation come to light? Will it permanently extinguish any lingering feelings? Or will those past feelings reignite?

Warnings: language, smoking, drinking, series typical violence, sexual situations, severe injuries, hospitals, illness, classism, minor character death, kidnapping, , season 3 & 4 spoilers

** THIS SERIES WILL NOT HAVE ANY FULL-ON SMUT IN IT — I don’t feel comfortable writing it…anything of that manner will be written as if it was in a pg-13 rated movie **

COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME TO BE TAGGED!

A NOTE TO THE READER

CHAPTERS:

PROLOGUE: May 17, 1911

CHAPTER 1: A Letter, Mr. Shelby

CHAPTER 2: I Want to See You Again

CHAPTER 3: Just One

CHAPTER 4: To London and the Countryside

CHAPTER 5: (Re)Introductions

CHAPTER 6: Forms of Business

CHAPTER 7: True Intentions

CHAPTER 8: How Could You?

CHAPTER 9: Keep In Touch

CHAPTER 10: He’s Gone

CHAPTER 11: The Tides are Turning

CHAPTER 12: Bruised and Beaten

CHAPTER 13: Getting Him Out

CHAPTER 14: Return to A Somewhat Normal

CHAPTER 15: In Three Months Time

CHAPTER 16: Moving Forward

CHAPTER 17: A Walk Around Small Heath

CHAPTER 18: What Becomes of Us?

CHAPTER 19: Where We Began

CHAPTER 20: A Favor Owed

CHAPTER 21: Fear Becomes Reality

CHAPTER 22: Together Again…

CHAPTER 23: …Only to Be Ripped Apart Once More

CHAPTER 24: What Occurs in the Fallout

CHAPTER 25: With A Little Help

CHAPTER 26: His Own Prison Cell

CHAPTER 27: Broken Free

CHAPTER 28: To Be Loved Once and True

EPILOGUE: A New Kind of Letter

**bolded = posted** — titles of chapter not final until posted

SERIES PLAYLIST — songs for the story

Coming Soon!

MOODBOARDS & EXTRAS:

Jane’s Introduction to the World

Introducing: Jane Marie Rivelli — all about the leading OC, her friends & family

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || homicidal liu & jane the killer || maid!reader || (𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au)

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: threesome, dom!jane, dom!liu, knife play + blood play combo, overstimulation, ownership kink lowkey, breeding

Being at the Trenderman mansion was odd.

Not because of its residents, but because of what they allowed you to do.

After your encounter with Helen you never saw him or any sign of him, minus the news channel blowing up after he went on a manic killing spree. With nothing left to clean due to how pristine the mansion was, you were left to your own devices. For the remainder of your weekend you wondered around the mansion aimlessly, admiring all of the freshly polished wood and satisfying forest smell at every turn. The only place you found real comfort in was the library, which was giant in comparison to anything you had ever seen. When you were particularly bored you’d wonder there, curling up in a nook by the window to read to pass time. Truthfully you were enjoying the tiny break, but your body was yearning for some sort of satisfaction. You weren’t sure if it was supernatural or not, but your sex drive was high enough to please all of the mansions residents.

It was Sunday night, Ben and Toby scheduled to pick you up the following day. You were in the last clothing item you had clean, a skimpy silk lavender night gown. The mansion was cooler at night, goosebumps trailing across your bare skin as you headed towards the library. It was the dead of night, most of the mansions residents out and about. You pushed open the doors of the library, the overwhelming smell of cigarettes invading your nostrils. You were surprised to see two shadows sitting in your reading nook. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jane the Killer and Homidical Liu, talking amongst themselves as they shared a cigarette.

Jeff was not kind when it came to the descriptions of Jane or Liu. To Jeff, Jane was the psycho bitch who deserved her fate, while Liu was the moronic brother who he deemed to need therapy. You found this ironic coming from Jeff, but never vocalized any form of protest. Yet the stories he told made them out to be the worst of the worst, killers that would slice and dice you mercilessly at the first sight of you. You swallowed, realizing your gawking had alerted them of your presence. “There you are! There’s our little bookworm!” Jane cheered, rising to her feet. You couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed when she walked, a smile spreading across her lips. She approached you with ease, your body tense and eyes wide as she threw her arms around you. As you inhaled you could smell her perfume, the sweet scent of chocolate and cherries swirling around your nostrils. Jane noted your tenseness but pretended she didn’t notice, looping her arm through yours.

“I’m Jane and this is Liu. But since you live with Jeff i’m sure you know who we are,” She said, gesturing to each of them as she spoke. Her voice was smooth like butter as she walked you over to Liu. The brunette seemed intrigued by your appearance. “So it’s true, you really are human,” He commented. Jane joined him by his side, not failing to elbow him. “Be nice,” Jane hissed. Liu rolled his green eyes, placing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling. “So uh, are you two together or..?” You began to ask, your voice trailing off. Jane chuckled at your joke, Liu exhaling his cigarette smoke. “Oh no baby I don’t swing that way. I like pretty girls like you,” She laughed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks, her enchanting obsidian eyes staring at you. “You ever smoke a cigarette before?” Liu asked, his voice gruff. You awkwardly scratched the back of your neck. “Well uh maybe, one or two times I think..” You said honestly. Jane reached out and grabbed your arm, plopping you in between the two of them.

“Why don’t you give it a shot?” Jane cooed. Unsurely you took the cigarette from Liu, placing in between your lips. As you inhaled you noticed Jane’s soft hand placing itself on your thigh, while Liu scooted closer toward you. The tobacco swirled around your lungs, your eyes watering as you coughed. Liu chuckled at your reaction, watching as Jane took the cigarette away from there. “You’ll learn kid. Don’t worry, there’s a lot of things Jane and I can teach you,” Liu said. Jane smoked the cigarette with ease, your body melting under the touch of Liu pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “L-Like what?” You sputtered, your heart pounding. Jane placed the cigarette in a nearby ash tray, giving you a seductive smile. “You have such a pretty mouth baby, I think putting it to good use will teach you a few things,” Jane mused. Her words sent a chill down your spine. You were practically trembling under their touch. “What’s wrong kid?” Liu asked, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him. His emerald eyes were full of dominance, peering down at you curiously. “Well J-Jeff said-” You started, Jane quick to cut you off.

“Oh honey is that it? Did Jeff say bad things about us?” Jane asked in a sweet tone. You nodded quickly, Jane and Liu exchanging glances. “We’re not scary, are we Liu? Why don’t you show her how loving we can be?” Jane suggested. Liu hopped off of the bench, immediately falling to his knees. Jane made her way behind you, guiding you to lay against her chest. Liu’s skin was comfortingly warm, while Jane’s was cool and soft. The two made your heart pound and cunt throb, the idea of Jeff’s worst enemies getting you off liberating and terrifying at the same time. Your thighs were shaking with fear, Liu’s warm chapped lips pressing soft kisses onto your inner thighs. Jane pulled the straps of your night slip down, gently rubbing your exposed skin. “You caught us on a good night, Sully would’ve eaten you alive by now,” Jane whispered. She pulled your night gown down until your bare breast were exposed, your nipples becoming hard under the cool night air. “S-Sully?” You sputtered. Liu’s hands slithered under your gown, yanking down your thong. “Liu’s counterpart. Don’t worry baby we’re gonna take real good care of you," Jane cooed.

Her soft hands traveled to your breast, toying with your nipples as Liu's hot breath fanned over your cunt. You whined at the sensation, goosebumps traveling across your skin as Liu licked a stripe up your cunt. "Oh there she is, theres the good little whore everyones been talking about," Jane chuckled, twisting your nipples harshly. You whined as Liu attached his lips to your clit, violently sucking at the bud. One of your hands tangled itself in his hair, the other gripping onto Jane's thigh for support. "You know we've been waiting for your arrival, precious thing," Jane whispered. You whimpered as Liu lapped at your folds as if he were a starved man. "You see we're not above pissing Jeff off for fun," Jane snickered. You watched wide eyed as Jane took out her knife, handing it to Liu. "Now having his sex slave marked with our initials? That sounds like great fun to me. I'd focus on my voice honey, this may sting," Jane told you. You screwed your eyes shut as Liu brought the tip of the blade to your inner thigh, the sharp slicing of your skin making you cry out in pain. "Shh baby you're doing so good. Your reward will make this all the worthwhile," Jane cooed, watching in satisfaction as Liu finished carving an L.

Jane took the liberty of sliding her hand down to your aching cunt, circling your abandoned clit. You groaned as Liu began to carve the letter J, licking the blood from the other cuts. "Well would you look at that Liu, I think she likes it," Jane chuckled darkly. With your blood still fresh on his tongue Liu pulled away from nursing your wound, finishing Jane's initial. "What a dirty little whore, I knew there was a reason everyone loves her so much," Liu replied, his cock beginning to ache in his jeans. Slowly you blinked your eyes open as you whimpered, thin beads of blood forming from the fresh cuts. They still stung as Liu continued to lap at them, causing you to curse. Your body was confused, Jane playing with your cunt while Liu cut you making your head spin. "I hope you didn't go too deep Liu, poor slut already looks dazed," Jane commented. Liu wiped his chin, the clinking of his belt sending a chill down your spine. "We better get on with it then. Wanna see what the hype is all about," He said, pulling down his jeans. Jane rearranged you, making you lay down as the two of them undressed. She took off her panties, hovering over your face. You couldn't quite understand why your body craved what it did, but you wanted nothing more than for the pale killer to ride your face until sunrise.

Eagerly you stuck out your tongue, gasping as Liu abruptly shoved his cock inside of you. He bottomed out quickly, your mouth in the shape of an O as Jane sat on your face. You tried to focus on lapping at her folds, her juices addicting and thighs squeezing your head. "Surprised she still has such a tight cunt after being the community's gloryhole," Liu panted, harshly gripping your waist. You tried your hardest to please Jane, having never eaten pussy before. You tried to do what you thought would feel good, listening to her sinful noises to ensure she was feeling the best possible. "Yes well her tongue can certainly make up for whatever aspects she may lack," Jane agreed, grinding her hips down and onto your face. With shaky hands you grabbed her thighs, trying to balance yourself as Liu began to fuck you. His thrust were anything but slow, the brunette immediately seizing the opportunity to spite Jeff by fucking you. "Think I can get her pregnant? Take Jeff's play thing off the market?" Liu asked Jane, your walls fluttering around his cock at the thought. Your moans vibrated against Jane's folds, causing her to lean forward in an attempt to support herself.

"Sounds like a wonderful plan Liu. You sick twisted bastard," Jane moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she rode your face. You struggled to be able to focus, both of them overwhelming you. You could hardly keep up with Liu abusing your cunt, purposefully giving you the roughest fuck he could provide. He wanted to send you home with puffy folds and the inability to walk, with his and Jane's markings showing everyone it was their doing. Jane wanted to use you to the fullest extent, grabbing your breast and toying with your nipples as your tongue teased her entrance. This was your first time pleasing a girl and you couldn't get enough. Jane was coming close to her orgasm first, her moans becoming more jagged and uncontrolled. "Fuck, she's fucking good at this. You think we can keep her?" Jane asked, the cord in her stomach tightening. Liu grinned as he put your legs over his shoulders, somehow fucking deeper into your core.

“I’d like to, i’d get a chance to breed this cunt every day,” Liu replied. He brought his thumb to your clit, drawing circles around the bud as he plowed into you. Jane bit her bottom lip, her thighs squeezing your head as she came closer to her orgasm. “Gonna c-cum,” She warned, her head tilting back as she came on your face. Feeling her cunt flutter around your tongue was addicting, your hands keeping her locked into place. You didn’t stop assaulting her cunt through out her orgasm, the pale killer at a loss for words. “Overstimulating Jane kid? My my you are crazy slut,” Liu chuckled. Jane licked her lips, her sinful noises uncontrollable. She shoved Liu’s hand away from your clit, replacing it with her tongue. Your moans became even louder, Liu’s cock continuing to abuse your cunt as it pleased. The cord in your stomach was tightening, your thighs beginning to tremble as your head began to spin.

“Look at that Jane, got her nice and tremblin’ for us,” Liu snickered. The pale killer grinned at the sight, deciding to graze your clit with her teeth. The sensation sent you over the edge, your body shaking as you came on Liu’s cock. His hips began to stutter, your name falling from his lips as he came deep inside of your cunt. On auto pilot you continued to lap at Jane’s folds, determined to make her cum one last time. She braced herself on your thighs, her sinful noises echoing throughout the library as she came again. She slowly lifted off of your face, her thighs shaky and heart racing. You were dazed to say the very least, watching Liu slowly pull out of you. You could feel his warm cum drip down your cunt, both him and Jane admiring the sight. She licked her lips, settling in between your thighs. “Oh no baby, it looks like you wasted all of Liu’s cum,” She said mockingly. With two fingers she gathered what she could, shoving it back inside of you, causing you to whine.

She hovered over your abused folds, your core throbbing as her sinister eyes met yours.

“Whadda say I get you cleaned up so Liu can give you more? Maybe this time you’ll keep it where it’s supposed to be.”

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 4

You meet with Nikolai for a fourth time.

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, non-con spanking, anal, sexual harrassment/assault

Masterpost

“Hey, is it true Marcus is dead?” Cassie whispered. She had the cot next to yours. You didn’t remember the last time you moved from it. Arno hadn’t bothered you since you got back a few days earlier. You just wanted to sleep, let the days slip past seamlessly. 

“Yes.” You answered softly. His body kept reappearing in your nightmares. Despite it all it felt like he was a level of protection you no longer had. He’d beat you, rape you but he was choosy about who you were sent to. Kept his eye on you when you worked the club. You had no one now. No Marcus, no Nikolai. Just Arno, who had hundreds of reasons to get rid of you. 

The other girls were thrilled, of course. He wasn’t a kind man to anyone. Part of you still mourned. He was the last thread connecting you to your old life. That nice little flat you shared, your job at the cafe, the few friends you’d made. You’d planned out a future with him before he showed his true nature. You’d tried not to blame yourself, that hindsight is 20/20 but all those old signs gnawed at you. 

Your birthday dinner where he slapped outside the restaurant. How rough he’d get in bed. The belittling. The credit cards taken out in your name. You were the frog in boiling water. Water he filled with flowers and gifts to placate you until you owed his friend more and more and the rent was still not being paid. 

You kept your coat tight around you. Just over 1k in pound notes could get you away. You just had to find the right time. You’d need to steal your passport back or maybe just run away to some government office, not local police - something higher up. You didn’t know where that was but if you caught a cab you could figure it out. 

You didn’t know if Nikolai would call for you again. You saw Jane being hurried away once you got back to the club. She was a redhead. There was a pang of jealousy you felt when you saw her come back bow legged. You didn’t care to ask about any tip he might have given her. You just hoped he didn’t like her more than you. Like it would even matter anymore. 

You’d seen his true form. He had a methodology to his violence. The snap of his fingers and you could have been the one naked, tied to a chair. Seeing him again would be knowingly going into the lion’s den.

You thought about what he said the other night about trust and loyalty. If you ran, would he come after you? You wouldn’t tell the authorities about any clients in particular but he didn’t know that. Marcus insulted him and Nik killed him for it. You didn’t want to think what he’d do to you if he thought you betrayed him. 

You squinted your eyes as the door swung open, flooding the room with light. Other girls groaned and threw their coats and other makeshift blankets over their heads. 

“You!” Arno snapped, pointing at you. “Nikolai wants you tonight. Be ready in thirty.”

You did your makeup with a shaky hand, smudging your eyeliner to make it seem intentional. You felt like a schoolgirl about to see the principal. You sat in the back of the car, biting back tears. His look of disappointment had lay heavy on your shoulders. You thought he’d never call for you again and the brief glimmer of excitement you felt when he did scared you. 

Yet here you were, standing in that little room with a white gift box in front of you, wishing you could disappear.

The box was empty. 

You took a deep breath and took off your clothes, folding them into a neat pile in the corner. The door buzzed and you were let in.

You walked along the plush rugs towards the living room. It felt colder than normal. He sat on the couch in a white dress shirt and dark grey slacks. The room smelled like cigar smoke. Jazz music played softly over the speakers. 

“Come here, Kotenok.” He patted his lap. You kept your eyes low as you walked over. He’d seen you naked before, been inside you before yet this felt shameful and embarrassing. It was on purpose you felt. “No, like this.”

He manoeuvred you till you were stomach down, your ass laying across his lap. He moved a pillow for you to rest your head on. 

“I’m upset with you.” He said, rubbing a circle across your back. You didn’t even try to hide your shaking. His rings only reminded you of what he did to Marcus earlier in the week. 

“I’m sorry, Sir.” A rabbit in the jaws of a bear. 

“Are you? Tell me why I’m upset.” He gave you a soft slap at the top of your thigh. 

“I tried to run.” That was the first thing that came to mind. A slap. “I…I threw up…I didn’t listen.”

Another slap.

You were struggling to think of anything except the hand hovering above you. Your face screwed up. You crumbled. 

“I’m sorry, Kolya.” You pleaded, “I’m so scared. I’m sorry. Please. Please.”

He hushed you, rubbing your back again. 

“I know you are, Kotenok.” He bent over and kissed the small of your back. “But you still need to behave. Do you want me to keep you around?”

“Yes, please.” You gasped out. 

“I need a girl who listens even when she’s afraid.” He rubbed your ass. “Count for me. Twenty for running.”

He alternated between your cheeks and tops of each thigh. You started to cry after the fifth one. You kept counting, pressing your fingers to your palms for each slap. At the end you were sputtering, spit dripping down onto the couch cushions. 

“Good. Breath for me. Good girl. Keep breathing.” He rubbed the heated skin. “Had you ever seen someone die before?”

“No.” You shook your head. 

“I don’t blame you for vomiting. It’s hard the first time. You’ll get used to it.” He rested his hands on you, drumming his fingers against your ass and upper back. “I’m going to spank you ten more times. Tell me why.”

“I… I don’t know.”

“What are you supposed to do when you get here?” It felt like your heart was trying to crawl deeper into your body and hide away from your own realisation.

“Take off my clothes.”

“And?”

“Put on what you gave me in the box.”

“You do know yet you didn’t do that the other day.”

“I…I was-”

He clicked his tongue, “No excuses. You do what I say no matter what. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Count.”

He hit harder this time, rings cutting against the plush of your ass. 

“One.”

Again.

“Two.”

Again.

“Th–three.”

“Should make you count in Russian.” He mused.  

Again.

In the end you were left a snivelling mess with a burning ass. He rubbed your lower back soothingly.

“You did good. Did you learn your lesson?” Your face was nearly as hot as your ass when he praised you. 

“Yes,” you gasped, heart still beating rapidly. He flattened his hand over your hair, cooing at you in Russian as you came back down to Earth. 

Two ringed fingers brushed against your lips, tugging the bottom one down till you relented and let them into your mouth. You sucked obediently.

“Have you been fucked in the ass before?” Your organs lurched inside your body as you noised out an affirmative around his fingers. There was a rumbling sound from his chest and he pulled out his fingers. “Spit.” 

You spit onto his fingers. It was more drool than spit and he gathered the rest dangling from your lips. You tensed up as he prodded against your hole. Your hips rolled uncomfortably as he pressed a finger inside you. 

“Shhh, I just want to stretch you. We have somewhere to be tonight.” You chewed on your lip as he worked a finger in, stretching you until he could fit a small plug inside of you. He moved you off his lap to lay on the couch by yourself. You tucked your face against the cushion, adjusting to the stretch and feeling of the plug. 

When he came back he rolled you over, wiping you down with a wet wipe. You’d grown sweaty, too much for his taste.

“There’s a box in the bathroom upstairs.” He pulled you to your feet and gave your ass a soft slap as you headed upstairs. 

It was simple but gorgeous. A black slip dress made of lambskin, felt like butter between your fingers. The price tag, still attached, made your jaw drop. It was backless and fit perfectly. There was no bra or panties in the box. There was another box with black leather pumps in it. The back of them rubbed against your heel uncomfortably, just slightly too small.

“Beautiful.” He was sitting on the bed. He’d put on a jacket to match his slacks. “We’ll go now.”

He led you down the same way as last time just with no black bag over your head. You didn’t know a lot about cars but you could read the word “PORSCHE” on the back of the car as he took you to your seat. He even buckled you in again. He pressed down on your stomach, chuckling as you whined.

“Have you ever gambled?” He asked, starting the car. 

“No, sir.”

“I’ll show you then.”

He kept a hand under your dress, on your thigh the entire drive. You kept your eyes glued to the passenger window, watching the city go by. It was November so some buildings had started to put out Christmas lights. You always loved the lights. A long time ago you and friends used to walk around your hometown just to see the neighbourhood decorations. You tried to count the decorated buildings, something to take your mind off your still stinging ass. 

You pulled up in front of an older building with a restaurant on the ground floor. A valet opened your door for you. Nik came around and threw his keys to the man before wrapping an arm around your waist. It was cold and you leaned against him for warmth. 

The restaurant was dimly lit with candles on all the tables. Music played softly over the chatter of guests. Nik nodded to the host and walked the two of you towards the kitchen and down a small hallway towards a small elevator.

You had to squeeze in with him, your chests pressed together.

“Hold it!” A hand reached in front of the closing door, forcing it open again. 

“You’re late.” Nik said. The man squeezed in behind you, his hips pressed against your ass. He was tall and bulky, young though, maybe thirty with the beginnings of a beard on his face. You looked up at Nik, hoping for him to do anything. 

“So are you.”

“Had to take care of her.” Nik brushed his hand down the back of your head. The elevator shook as it began its descent.

“Your little trollop get into trouble?” The man looped a strand of your hair around his finger.

“Only a little but she learns quick.”

You yelped and clung to Nik as the man lifted the back of your dress up. 

“You plugged her up too?” He clicked his tongue, amused before dropping your dress again. You hurriedly fixed it, face feeling as hot as your ass.

“She takes her punishment well. Right, Kotenok?” You nodded, arms hugging him underneath his jacket as you tried to make as much room as possible between you and this other man. “Look, John. You’ve scared her.”

“Don’t worry love, I won’t bite… not without Nik’s permission.” He snapped his jaw close to your ear, laughing when you jumped. The elevator dinged and the door opened. “What are the odds you put her up tonight?”

“The same odds that you’ll win anything.” Nik smirked. 

The basement smelt like mildew and cigars. John walked ahead of you. 

“Just sit in my lap and relax. I want to show off my pretty girl.” Nik said against your temple. “No shaking, remember?”

“Yes, sir.” He pressed a quick kiss on your hairline before guiding you down the hall.

Several men sat around a table, drinks and cigars in hand. Nik sat down next to John before pulling you into his lap sideways. You rested your head on his shoulder, ear against his neck so the thumping of his pulse could drown out the laughs and crude comments. There were no other girls in the basement. Just dangerous men playing cards. 

You weren’t following the game closely but Nik seemed to be doing well, his pile of chips building up slowly in front of him. He had you hold his drink or cigar for him while he thought about his next move, encouraging you to take little sips from his glass. You ended up drinking more than him and maybe everyone else at the table. 

“See how good she is to me?” Nik tapped the tip of your nose.

“I’ll get in your lap if you give me enough money,” John said, his knuckles brushing against your bare spine. “Won’t suck your cock though.”

“Enough whiskey and enough cash I think I can convince you.” Nik laughed but pulled you a little closer to him. Other men at the table laughed while John shrugged his shoulders in a guilty way. 

“Unfortunately I decided to make my money the honest way.”

“Through our taxes?” Chimed in another man.

“No one here pays taxes.” Another laughed.

As the night went on the table’s patrons began to dwindle. Nik’s stack of chips continued to grow while you drifted off. He was warm and smelled like oud and musk and spice. You could almost forget what he did last week. Forget the blood and the smell and the fear. 

You were cutting threads, detaching from all those bad feelings because right now you were safe. Nik was your ticket. Don’t mind the violence or the harassment from his friends. Ignore your known naivety and trust him to keep you alive long enough. Be perfect. Be his girl, his good girl.

“She’s cute like that.” John said. “Maybe I do want a bite.”

“Not tonight. Use your winnings to get your own girl. I’ll send you the address. Girl I had last week was good. Tight pussy.”

“Why isn’t she here then?”

“I like this one.” Rings brushed against your cheek. 

He carried you out to the car. He put his jacket over your shoulders before buckling you back into the car.

“Gave you too much to drink, didn’t I?” He sighed. “Well, hopefully you won’t squirm as much when I fuck you.”

You fell half asleep on the drive back, only vaguely aware of the turns and stops that were made. You jolted when his car door shut.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” He cooed, lifting you up out of the car.

The bedroom was warm and the sheets were soft against your cheek. You stretched out like a cat, no like a kitten. You rubbed your face against his pillow, taking in the smell. He was moving around the room behind you, clothes dropping to the floor. 

The mattress dipped on either side of you as he straddled your legs before ruching your dress up above your waist. 

“I don’t know when you’ll see me again.” He said, rubbing his hand over your bare ass.

“Huh?” you turned to look over your shoulder, concern plastered across your drunken face.

“John and I have some work we need to handle. Hopefully it won’t take long but you never know with these things. When I call again I want this hole prepped,” he pulled the plug out, groaning as your muscles clenched. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Kolya.” Your bottom lip quivered. All the fear came flooding back like a broken dam. He took your chin between two fingers.

“I’ll try not to die before I fuck this cunt again. Now relax, was thinking about this all night. Had a hard time concentrating knowing my girl was waiting for me.”

He popped open the bottle of lube and dripped it on your hole. You buried your face into his pillow and lifted your hips up for him. The head of his cock rubbed against you, pushing against your opening. 

You took a deep breath and did your best to relax. He responded by pushing the tip inside of you, he rubbed your flank, murmuring praises to you. He kept pushing as you grunted and whined at the burning stretch. “You can do it.”

He gave you respit once his hips were flush against your ass, petting your head as you twitched around his length. He licked the sweat beading at the base of your neck. 

“I think I would be okay to die after fucking your ass.” He snickered before pulling out and thrusting back in hard. You let out little grunts every time his balls smacked against your pussy. He built up a harsh rhythm, fucking any real sensation out of you, leaving you floating with a dull ache. He was moaning and cursing above you, almost as loud as the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Yebat!”

His fingers dug roughly into your hips as he came. His cock twitching inside you as he filled you up. He pulled out with a sigh and pushed the plug back in. 

“Don’t want you ruining the sheets.” 

He let you sleep on his pillow that night. A rabbit sleeping in the bear’s den, nuzzling against his fur.