#not even the Siren stands out what the fuck

[elysianightsss]

I BURN FOR YOU | PART THREE

He snaps his head up, eyes locking with yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before. “When the next two months are over, you’re going to stay with me and it’s going to be your choice this time.” Simon takes a hold of your hand, kissing the top of it before holding it in between the both of his.

“I will make every effort to make it so darling.”

Your sharp gasp is a most enjoyable sound for Simon that he certainly plans on hearing again. You pull your hand from his and start to make your way out of the room.

“Darling?” Simon stands and begins after you. You whip around quickly catching him off guard.

“You’re rude and mean and cold for weeks! I shout at you once and you’re suddenly the perfect gentleman?” Your eyes narrow into slits, “I don’t buy it.”

“I can only apologise for my previous irresponsible behaviour.” Simon sounds genuine but you don’t want to believe it.

“Irresponsible?” You question his choice of words.

“It’s irresponsible if I have ruined any chance of getting you to stay at the end of these two months.” His voice holds a tone you’re unfamiliar with, not just from Simon but from any man you’ve ever encountered. It sounds like begging. The way his brow furrows deep, his eyes aren’t cold but are warm and welcoming, he looks just about ready to fall to his knees but you highly doubt that.

Everything that was once cold and harsh now screams to you to come closer, bellows to you to fall into his arms, like a siren he becomes your walking dream. You have to take a sharp breath in, you have to steel yourself. He had been cold and rude to you for almost a whole month now, you were not going to give into his new facade so easily.

“I don’t believe whatever this is,” you gesture to all of him, “no one can change over night.”

But he had. When you yelled in his face that this wasn’t your choice either, a realisation had struck him that he feels an simpleton he didn’t think about it before, you didn’t choose this just as he hadn’t chosen it. He had been giving you the cold shoulder with the prejudice that you had chosen this and agreed to marry him. That you had brought this misery upon him.

But to realise you had been forced into this with no way out, only then did he understand how much of a cunt he’d been to you. You, a sweet gorgeous woman who had been forced to put up with his shit from the day you said I do, suffering in silence until yesterday.

“Let me prove it to you.” Simon takes hold of your hand, speaking soft and calm. His eyes hold so much emotion you almost can’t seem look into them without giving into him. He sees you’re still uncertain and rightfully so, “I will try my utmost to show you I am no longer cold, and that I wish for you to stay with me.”

You simply frown and pull your hand away. Simon can see it though, the acceptance glistening in those pretty eyes of yours. You’re not going to say it aloud, definitely not, but he has a chance and he’s not going to fuck it up.

The difference is outstanding, extraordinary almost. It’s like he’s an entirely different man from the one you had been dealing with for a month. He waits for you during meals times, waits for you to fuss with your dress and hair, waits for you to sip your wine, waits for you to pick up your knife and fork before even thinking about picking up his.

He makes conversation during these times too, asks about your day at dinner or what you had planned at breakfast. He smiles as he listens to you talk about a new book you read in the library, tells you about the time his mother used to read to him when he’d wake up from nightmares as a child.

Simon actively seeks you out throughout the day, whether it’s with a rose in hand he’d picked specially for you or to ask if you’d join him for tea or a walk in the gardens perhaps. He finds ways to make you smile or laugh, and though you curse yourself for it, it’s so nice to laugh. Sometimes by the end of dinner you’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts.

You can’t help but think about the sheer contrast from your first meal together, Simon with a frown permanently etched on his perfectly structured face. You not even wanting to speak to him and battling your internal thoughts of never having happiness. To this, laughter and a happiness you hadn’t felt before.

Simon also starts to walk you to your room at the end of the evening and bid you goodnight. Tonight as you walk side by side, after one too many glasses of wine you’re unable to stop yourself from your words. “Sometimes you are entirely confusing,” your words sound a little slurred, it’s makes Simon hum interested in what you have to say though.

He’s figured out that you forget yourself after a few drinks, you spill your soul to him in a way he’s been internally begging for. You always apologise for your actions at breakfast the next morning when your head is aching. But he brushes you off, saying he loves to hear what you have to say. He enjoys you being so open with him.

Your heels clip and clop against the black and white marble flooring as you continue, “I thought you said you wouldn’t be walking me to my room.” You raise a brow, glancing at him next to you. So tall.

Simon smiles down at you softly, you looked especially beautiful tonight. The light purple glittering dress you’d chosen to wear suits you impeccably. Your hair is a sweet updo with a small section of your hair remaining out of the bun and curled in the London fashion. Your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and your smile is a little lopsided. You looked ethereal. Like a deity. An unobtainable being and yet you’re his to have and hold, to love and to cherish.

He’d done a shit job thus far, not anymore.

“I believe your mistaken my lady,” Simon’s playful tone brings a giggle bubbling up your throat, “that was said by another man. And awful, rude-“

“-cock of a man.” You freeze, eyes widening at your loose lips. Hesitantly you glance up at your husband to your right, he’s staring down at you, lips parted in shock, eyes widened in surprise. It’s so quiet in the hallway as you’ve both stopped walking you think you’d be able to hear your hairpin drop.

Then suddenly Simon laughs, it’s a bellowing full belly laugh. It brightens your mood and calms you all at once. The sound makes you start to laugh too, until you’re both stood in an empty hallway laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh darling, you truly amuse and amaze me. You’re truly unlike any woman I’ve ever met.” The Duke tells you earnestly, sighing after catching his breath. You feel a warm arm wrap around your waist just as you start to sway.

You both start to walk again, it’s in a sweet silence. A peaceful serenity that you both bathe in until you’re finally in front of your room. A frown begins to grow on his face, he wishes he could demand you move your things into his room just so you could both continue to be together peacefully like this.

“Thankyou,” you bring his undivided attention back to you, “for walking me to my room. I bid you goodnight your grace.” You smile up at him.

Simon smiles back, maybe he’s had one too many glasses of wine too, he thinks, as he finds himself leaning closer to you. No it’s not the wine, it’s just you. You’re simply enchanting to him, like a witch has put a spell on him, he’s in a trance leaning forward and pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth.

One could argue it was your cheek but it was far too close to your lips for there to be any sound evidence for that. And there it was again, that sharp gasp Simon has been dreaming about ever since he first heard it. The way your chest jolts with it, God you drive him insane.

“That scent,” he inhales lips suddenly at the shell of your ear, nostrils flaring as he takes a breath in deep. He feels dizzy at the scent, “roses.” He whispers, groaning slightly, feeling on a high from being so close to you.

Feeling the cold wall against your back and the warmth of his body pressing to yours makes you light headed. Weak at the knees, they buckle slightly but you’re not afraid to fall when your husband is holding you up so diligently.

“Simon.” You breathe out, his face is the closest it’s ever been. You can feel his hot breath, it’s strong of wine and those delectable chocolates you had for dessert. It’s dizzying. Simon moves his face in front of you, eyes locking with yours. You feel it again, the electricity around you both, crackling and popping in the air. Sparks flying.

“You’re beautiful, wife.” He whispers full of conviction. His irises blown wide, covering the brown in his gorgeous eyes. Simon rests his forehead on yours. You find yourself inching forward.

You want him to kiss you, want him to hold you, you simply want him. Simon is internally battling if it’s acceptable to kiss you. You are his wife, but he’s just started laying the ground work and building a friendship with you. He’s doesn’t want you to think he’s doing it to just to sleep with you. He doesn’t want your mind to jump to you being used in any way shape or form.

So he kisses your cheek once more, soft, plump lips pressing against the skin. Stubble pressing into your cheek in a way that actually does make your knees buckle, but Simon’s got you. He tells you so.

“Goodnight darling.” Disappointingly, your husband pulls away and bows to you before leaving swiftly down the hall. You watch him the whole way until he disappears round the corner, it’s only then that you enter your bedroom and flop onto your bed.

Your three maids are waiting for you, all of them smiling at you. The whole household is happy the Duke and Duchess are finally getting along and even a romantic bond is building there. They help undress you and dress you for bed all while you compliment Simon with slurred words and a lopsided grin on your face.

The same lopsided grin Simon wears after hearing exactly what you said about him last night.

You start to sit with him when he works, reading your books. He makes the effort to ask what you’re reading and your favourite chapter so far, but, you’ve noticed he’s not actually listening as he stares at the difficult account ledgers in front of him. However the effort to ask makes you smile nonetheless.

He seems overly stressed today when you enter the east wing study, your smile instantly dropping at the sight. “Simon?” You don’t have to ask if he’s okay, your concern is not only present in your tone but it’s clear as day on your face as well.

“We need to attend the Price ball tonight.” He says nothing more, wiping his hands down his face. He looks exhausted. You step further into the room coming to a stop in front of his desk.

“Of course. It’s only fair as we missed the last one, and the Viscountess would not stop making me feel guilty about it at the ladies luncheon last week.” You agree with a smile that makes Simon soften.

“Thank you.” He says quietly reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze.

“Well I suppose I must get ready then.”

Simon thinks this is the longest he’s ever waited, not just for you, but for any woman ever to get ready for a ball.

But when you descend the grand stair case, he does not care. His breath is caught in his throat at the sight of you. You’re not in the usual London fashion and he’s loving it, soaking it up like fine expensive liquor.

You’re in a dark red dress that’s a tad big tighter than London dresses are, it shapes you and accentuates your figure perfectly. Your hair is pinned up in a plaited bun with small red roses accessorising it. You’ve got a soft glow to your face too, reddened cheeks from the rouge that your maid had put there and a red lip to match the rest of you.

Simon doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more exquisite in all his years.

“You’re staring.” You smirk at him feeling jittery at the look in his eyes.

“You’re stunning.” He quips back unable to look anywhere but you. Even as Johnny clears his throat and informs you both that the carriage is ready. Even as he is passed his gloves, scarf and cloak. Even as you cover up the dress with a cloak of your own to fight off the winter chill. Even during the bumpy carriage ride to the Viscount’s estate. Simon doesn’t look away once, something you feel yourself heating up at.

To have his eyes on you, not just your face but your body too. It sends a wave of something you’ve never felt before through your lower abdomen, you just know it feels good. You’re disappointed when he looks away to get out of the carriage but you suppose it’s better than him face planting into the gravel.

The Viscount’s estate is large, smaller than Simon’s but still large nonetheless. Mayfair Hall, Simon told you it was called. It was all lit up and sounded loud inside, busy and bustling with the life and soul of London’s ton.

You take off your cloak, smoothing your dress down and making sure your hair is still in place despite the freezing breeze. “Stop fussing, you look better than anyone here.” You scoff at your husband’s words.

“You haven’t even seen anyone inside there yet.” Simon licks his lips, wetting them to keep them from drying out in the cold while you roll your eyes.

“I don’t need to see inside to know you’re easily more beautiful than anyone here darling.” The Duke smoothly replies ignoring the way the footmen glance at him surprised.

“Well aren’t you quite the charmer!” Before you can say anything you’re both taken off guard by the hostess herself coming out of the estate to greet you both. She’s absolutely stunning in a dark green dress, “You’ll have to teach John.” She jokes to Simon before turning to you and greeting you with a hug.

She may have made you feel guilty at the ladies luncheon but she was easily the nicest person there, “I’m so happy you came tonight!” She squeals linking arms with you, leading you inside.

The night goes by swiftly, Simon goes off with John somewhere together after about three dances with you. It leaves you at the mercy of the ton and gossip. So far you’d managed to avoid anyone who wasn’t your husband, the Viscount and Viscountess. But as both men are off discussing the issue Simon is having with his ledgers and the Viscountess is busy hosting you’re no longer provided such protection, which the vultures seem to notice.

Two vultures in particular, Lady Germain and Lady Trowridge make their way over to you, curtsying respectfully before attacking.

“How are things with the Duke?” Lady Germain asks.

“I hear it was an arranged marriage, you must not be very happy.” Lady Trowridge says like she’s answering for you.

“Oh, you must not be making any heirs then.” Lady Germain looks you up and down with a slight disgust.

“That all depends on how respectful the Duke is, though he is still a man after all.” Lady Trowridge once again speaks as though the question is not aimed at you.

This goes on for what feels like a lifetime, they go back and forth, one pointing questions your way while the other answers for you in an abstract way. Neither one letting you speak as they belittle you, Simon, your relationship with your husband, the fact that you’re not pregnant yet and more. It’s makes you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Do either of you ever stop talking?” You ask genuinely, a little too loud drawing attention, after basically downing your fourth glass of champagne. Both ladies blink at you in shock, “How do you not get tired of listening to your own voices?” You shake your head astonished before walking away.

You had been excited for this ball, happy to be out and with Simon. But now it felt like a big mistake, that Simon should have scheduled a different time with John to talk about the books so you could stay in your secluded home with your walls up and where these ghastly vultures couldn’t reach you.

You begin to leave, asking for your cloak from the boy you’d given it to at the start of the evening when you weren’t feeling the gut wrenching pain you are now. Being not only belittled by them, but for them to talk so openly about the fact that Simon probably hadn’t bedded you yet. Wouldn’t want to touch you and that you’d most definitely never have children with him.

Your heart ached at the thought. Even with your slowly building relationship, you hadn’t given things like marital relations between the two of you that much thought. Maybe because you didn’t see it happening yourself, that bothered you but not as much as never being able to mother your own child did.

That was something that was still raw, something that you were still mourning the loss of, something you don’t think you’ll ever have. For them to rip open the stitches you’d tried so hard to keep tight for the wound to heal, it was truly devastating.

You wanted to leave and never return to society.

The boy handed you your cloak just as Simon rounded the corner, eyes a little frantic until they landed on you and softened into concern. Coming over to you he instantly noticed something wrong and asked you what it was.

But you refused to tell him, muttering out a nothing, that’d you’d simply had enough and wanted to leave. Simon didn’t press the matter further, he wasn’t one for society so he was more than happy to go.

After a quick goodbye to the host and hostess, the carriage is summoned and you’re back on that bumpy ride. Except this time, the carriage isn’t full of lust and happiness, it’s full of a harsh atmosphere. You’re miserable, biting back the tears refusing to let them fall in front of Simon just like you’re refusing to look at him. You know if you do you’ll break down in his arms and tell him everything those awful women said.

You don’t want anything to ruin what you have, things have changed for the better. You don’t want to put him off now.

Simon can tell there’s something you’re hiding from him, but he’s happy to be patient with you and won’t push unless it’s absolutely necessary. Though he does try to ask you once more when you arrive home, but you simply say it’s nothing and scramble away to your room, he watches you go.

It brings him back to the first few weeks of your marriage, the feeling it brings him is sickening. He doesn’t want your walls to go back up, he wants you to unfold yourself to him. Confide in him, let him comfort you. But it looks like you’re not there yet.

You slam the door in your maids faces, sliding down the white painted wood as you finally let the tears fall. You cry hard, pulling a pillow from your bed to shove your face into. It’s a loud scream that escapes your throat, muffled by the cushion, but loud nonetheless. You screamed out every feeling that had built up with each word out of their disgusting mouths.

Pouring your despair into the pillow was the only thing you wanted to do. So caught up in the pain and the insults swirling in your head, you don’t hear the door opening or the rushed food steps, the knees dropping to the floor beside you. Or maybe you do and you simply choose to ignore them as you continue to sob until warm, thick arms envelop you in a protective hold.

“Oh my darling.” His words are soft and dripping with sympathy, you can’t hear. It’s like your ears are stuffed with cotton balls, your eyes sting and your mouth feels dry but you can’t stop crying. Simon wasn’t going to make the same mistake as he made last time when he just listened to you cry.

No, not this time. He was going to hold close you until the last tear, and be ready with an open mind to listen to exactly what brought on this onslaught of sadness.

Then he was going rain hellfire on whoever caused it.

To be continued…

Taglist | @callmecurious97 @corvusmorte @xheera @lilynotdilly @watyousayin @lunamoonbby @captainsarcasmandsass @myspaceisra @c1garette-nightmares @lucinda-reads @emmylous-world @svnh6021 @lucifers-demonic-breast-milk @alucardsdaddyissues @fruitymoonbeams-blog @misscaller06 @stupid-little-birdie @vivanlasbaleadas @sozainturpal @3-opossums-in-a-ballgown @softangxlicss @aninnai @itsmeamysworld

[cruise-in-your-glow-bus]

Siren Terzo teaser for @discountdemonwarehouse and @ghestie-nun

“Bit cold for cosplay photos,” I say, tearing my gaze away from his lean, pale torso and searching the deserted beach for any sign of a photographer, a backpack or bag or… something, anything, to make all of this make sense. 

This being the pale, shimmering torso of a man, rising up out of the ocean before me, gold dusting across his shoulders like fallen starlight, lean hips tapering to a fucking tail all overlaid in iridescent purple scales.

He grins at me. “Is it? The water feels fine to me.”

I snort in disbelief. “Right. Okay. Well, enjoy…”

My brain tells my feet to keep walking, but instead, my fingers curl on the leather of my sandals, and I stare into the strange man’s eyes. Even those eyes have to be part of his whole costume, I think. One dark, one white. It’s got to be a contact lens… or maybe he does actually have two different-colored eyes. That’s a thing that can happen.

The tail, though… that’s definitely not. 

It flicks through the water behind him lazily, waving back and forth as the gentle waves crest, break, and fall across it. I can’t stop staring, even if I know it’s rude. The man humors me as I stand there, trying to find the seam where the tail prosthetic ends and his pale torso begins. 

I can’t see it. 

Instead, there’s just a smooth, seamless transition between skin and iridescence. And he’s watching me as I stare at him, a little smirk tilting the corner of his full mouth, like he’s waiting for me to get a joke he already knows the punchline to. 

Mermaid. 

Well… mer man. 

As if in answer to my unspoken thoughts, the end of his tail flicks up and out of the water, moonlight catching on the spray of water and shining down on the nearly-transparent fin that flutters out from the tip. It reminds me, in an absurd way, of the betta fish in their little jars at the pet store. They always seemed so sad to me, and so elegant, stuck in cups so they don’t kill each other. 

And the man, the whatever he is, is still smirking at me. 

“I assure you,” he says, in a low voice that’s absolutely full of promise: “The size of the tail definitely correlates…”

I laugh out loud at this, deciding to play along. “Oh, and I bet you wear size fourteens, too.”

The man looks momentarily confused by this, but he recovers, pushing himself a little big forward on the sand. His belly is taut, shoulders and forearms flexing as he moves. He’s strong, I think. Deceptively so.

A man can’t chase you if he’s got a huge prosthetic fin on, though. I can definitely make it back up to my car before he can peel that thing off. 

“For you, bella, I will wear fourteen of whatever you want.” His laugh makes me want to fling myself into the sea. His eyes brighten, grin broad, white eye flashing. He tilts his head to the side, wet black hair falling artfully across his dark eye, and at his neck I see–

Wait. 

Wait. 

 Are those gills? 

I stare at them as they flutter, his throat bobbing beneath his pale, almost luminous skin as he swallows. 

He’s got gills. 

Gills and a tail. 

A very, very realistic looking tail.

No. 

Nope. Nah. What? 

“You can’t be real.”

He looks around, left and then right, eyes wide like he’s searching for something. And then, turning back to face me, he shrugs his narrow shoulders and says: “Oop! I guess I’m not real!”

Without another word, he ducks fully beneath the waves. Disappearing from sight completely.

“Wait!”

His absence makes panic flare in my heart; I take two steps closer to the shoreline, tossing my sandals behind me as I wade, ankle-deep, into the frigid surf. 

He pops back up again, shaking his hair out of his face like a wet dog, laughing. 

He’s laughing at me. 

“I thought I wasn’t real?”

“Y-you can’t be real!”

He rolls over onto his back at this, rubbing up and down his torso with broad, web-fingered hands, each tipped with sharp-looking gold nails. My mouth goes dry as I stare at him. Beneath the dip of a navel, his happy trail, such as it is, is purple scales… 

His skin is dusted everywhere with gold. 

I want to taste him. 

“I feel real, bella,” he says, voice just this side of a satisfied moan. “I feel very, very real. But perhaps, you’d like to check for yourself?”

[cheriafreya]

Borderlands 4 looks so boring and bland I'm gonna cry

[gravegoer]

MORE SEVIKA X SIREN I BEG

I hear your call [P2] ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

HALF OF MY INBOX IS SIREN READER !! dw, i got you guys. ( also i got a lot of love in my inbox. !! thank you so much for the support. youre so sweet , im looking at 🍃 anon ily ) summary: sevika saves your scales.

masterlist , part 1 2.1k words part 3

The night after you met Sevika, you followed her ship, even throughout the darkness. The celebratory crew could be heard on the deck, along with the clanking of glasses and music.

Although this wasn't what you were interested in, you were interested in a certain captain. You assumed she didn't bother with the celebration and got bored swimming alongside the ship.

Eventually, it had come to a stop in the late night, now sitting in the dock of a well-populated island. You eyed the people that stepped off, and your gaze landed on Sevika.

She was hard to miss, her large stature and intricate outfit stood out amongst the crew, ultimately declaring herself captain. There was a sort of swagger in her walk, perhaps from booze or maybe exaustion.

Whatever the case, you were interested.

You couldn't get too close to land, deciding to lurk around the harbor instead. You ducked under the water upon hearing any movement or voices. Being this close to population was no place for a siren, especially such as yourself.

Any fisherman or pirate alike would take take you up and pawn you for a pretty price. So you heeded in your movements. Luckily, you were a skilled enough swimmer that you made little to no sound whilst in the water, barely leaving behind a ripple.

The sun was just now rising, and you assumed Sevika would be looking for a place to stay the night. There was no way you could wait around that long for her to come back. But that doesn't mean you didn't want to.

To your delight, a group of men swarmed to talk on a dock near you, and their conversation was full of exactly what you wanted to hear.

Sevika.

They were pirates looking for a crew, and from the looks of them, quite experienced pirates.

"She's headed to Shank's motel. Shall we give her a visit?"

"This late at night, man. You've got to be spewin' some blige. She'd flog you just at sight."

"Aye. Migh' as well wait till' morn' "

You grew closer to their spot, itching to hear more. Your head nearly bumped against the old wood due to your closeness.

Suddenly, a hand was in your hair, but unlike Sevika's, it was clammy and gross.

You screeched at the intrusion, being pulled out of the water.

A fourth man.

How could you let your guard down so easily?

"Now, what's a stupid lass like you doin' so far out at bay."

You crained your head up to be met with a severely shredded bald man. You clawed at the hand on your scalp and thrashed. The sting threatened to bring tears to your eyes, and you opened your mouth for a song.

The knowing man slammed your face down onto the wood, stopping you in your tracks.

"Fuck. This one be a siren, but the harder the catch, the more the prize is what I say."

Another voice came from your left.

"Knock 'er out, and I'll grab a net."

A blunt thwack was heard before your vision went dark.

..

Sevika had tied her boat to a post before leaving her crew to find a place to eat, preferably not a bar where she knew the rest of her men were headed. Having enough to drink, she sat at a stand selling calaloo and threw a few dabloons on the counter silently, waiting for her meal.

Her mind wasn't on anything except for you. The ruler of the Seven Seas was enamored with a mer-person.

How fitting.

She thought about the way your eyes sparkled when she told you stories, looking at her like no other. How your cold hands were so gentle when you touched her. Your soft lips against hers.

I mean, how much deeper could she fall.

Having been so engrossed in thought, she barely noticed the whispers around her. Barely. She, of course, was the talk of the town.

She intimidated people just by taking a seat next to them, so casual yet making everyone at the stand turn to glance at her. It wasn't often that Sevika bothered with mundane tasks such as eating anywhere but a bar, and nobody really saw her face anywhere except for wanted posters.

Although it was a picaroon town, and there was no way anyone there would bother to turn her in or snitch, she still pushed her plate away and got up to fend off the prying eyes. (Picaroon means pirate)

Her buckled boots thudded against the dirt road, now on the way to the nearest inn. She was almost desperate for a nights sleep without rocking on the mad waters.

Upon entering, a large man stomped past her, eager to get somewhere, she was just about to grab him and slam him into the nearest counter before her attention was interrupted.

"Them chowder-headed fools caught themselves a real jem, aye?"

"Heard theys' puttin' 'er up for auction"

That was never a pretty thing to hear. It either meant low-life pirates snagged themselves an expensive treasure, or worse, a living treasure. But it wasn't rare that a fisher or pirate just so happened to find a large, human-like fish in their net and put her on the market, so Sevika paid it no mind.

She did linger on the fact that it might be the one person on her mind at the moment but quickly shook away those thoughts. You were smart, quick. Theres no way any man would have you that easily.

When she approached the counter for a key, the shop-keep laughed, "What? You want a room? I think you ought to pay the stands a visit, its the first auction in a week."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his words, her head dipping into her previous thoughts again.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to make sure.

So she drug her tired and heavy legs right back across town for the sliver of a chance that it might be you.

..

You awoke with a harsh throbbing in your head, feeling cold and dried up. Through blurry vision, you could make out the steel bars, closing you in. And a loud voice,

"Another bid for 300 dabloons !"

Fuck. It's what you've been dreading all your life. You got caught due to your lack of awareness and clumsiness. Inwardly cursing at yourself, you grabbed at the bars and shook violently.

"Look, she's awake. How do we feel about upping the price now that we can see her pretty eyes."

The man stuck his fingers in your enclosure and tilted your chin up. At that moment, you became aware of the metallic muzzle on your face, keeping your jaw in place. You glared up at him, knowing you'd bite him if you could.

He pulled away when you jerked your head forward, as if making the motion to bite him. He laughed loudly, and another bid came from the crowd.

"500!"

The men yelled and whooped at that. You thunked your head against the bars, the loudness ringing in your ears. You can't believe you got yourself in this mess for a pirate.

It was just hollering and laughing for a while before the man beside you spoke,

"500, Aye? Going once.. going twice.."

"A thousand."

A heavy female voice stood out amongst the rest, sounding angry and tired. Your eyes darted around, looking for the source of the voice, but another shrill voice spoke up.

"1000? Is this woman kidding? 1500."

The men's laughs roared in again, smacking the mans back and slinging booze. A tall figure stepped out of the shadow, cigarillo in hand, and spoke, "Double it."

All went quiet as they eyed Sevika, her arm crossed over her chest as she brought a mechanical hand to her lips to take a drag. She blew the smoke from the side of her mouth, making a taller male cough.

Your eyes widened, and fingers gripped the bars steadier. When you made eyecontact, you could have sworn her eyes went soft for a moment before she looked to your captor.

"Well.. any final bids..?"

He spoke seemingly frightened and pleased with himself all in one moment.

Nobody spoke against Sevika, as a captian never had a bounty over their head for a reason. And her bounty was hefty.

There were no protests as she pushed her way through the crowd, seemingly more violent than usual. She put her cigar out on someone's forehead, the small tiss, standing out against silence.

Her boots clunked as she ascended the stairs and plopped three brown bags atop your cage. You looked up at her, but she wasn't looking back. Her metal hand was grabbing the key from the mans hand and pushing him backward in one motion.

He stumbled, but you looked away to eye Sevikas human hand swiftly unlocking the cage. She held her hand out to you, dark hair shadowed her eyes, and hid her expression from you.

She was who you were here for.

You hesitantly grabbed her calloused hand, and immediately, she lifted you into her arms. Now, looking into the crowd, her menacing expression was highlighted by the dim torches that surround the stands. Her cape was draped over your tail and bare torso, shielding you from the cold, and more importantly the people.

As she was stepping down the stairs, she saw your muzzled mouth, and her expression got a tinge darker. No words needed to be spoken as she balanced you with her human arm and knee, tearing the straps of the muzzle off with a sharp finger.

It was almost instinct to hum a siren song, but before your vocal chords could start, you saw her expression and buried your face in her sturdy torso. It was the look of warning, a warning that you obeyed.

Pirates gawked at the sight of her carrying you past the crowd of people. Nobody dared to reach out and touch you. Some people didn't even dare to look at you. You kept your gaze on Sevika's clenched jaw and torn expression. The angles of her face were more prominent at this angle, you would blush at the sight but your nervousness didn't allow it.

Her grip on your tail was firm, yet gentle, human arm cradling your torso without complaining about the coldness. You weren't one to be drawn to the warmth of a human, but found yourself pressed closer against her body. You now shut your eyes to rid of the feeling of stares and judgement.

As she carried you down the dirt road back to the inn, she spoke in a frustrated tone, "You are the stupidest fish ive ever met."

"And you're the sappiest pirate ive ever met."

..

When Sevika stepped into the inn with you in her arms the keep gawked at you. You were cradled like a baby, weightless in her hold. She kept a stern gaze as he passed her the keys with a room number attached "56".

The people that sat in the inn waiting room averted their eyes, shrinking under Sevika's cold grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed, making you want to reach up and rub the wrinkle between them.

She walked up old rickety stairs, almost bending under your combined weight and turned left down the hall to the room. It was surprisingly quiet, and you were able to hear the woman's ragged breaths. Sevika was obviously worn out and tired from her day, and still came to your rescue.

How heroic.

She effortlessly shifted you to one arm, making sure your head was steady against her shoulder and creaked open the wooden door. Your tail barely brushed against the ground, her height compensating for the length.

"I need—," you spoke, before she cut you off with a grunt.

"Water. I know."

Opening the door to the bathroom, she sighed at the size. It was almost too small to fit her large frame and your long tail.

Dropping you into the tub gently, she turned the knob for cold water. "Want me to sprinkle in salt?"

You genuinely couldn't tell if she was joking, "No, no it's okay," You laughed, humming at the feeling of water on your tail.

"Why did you let yourself get caught," Sevika said, more as a statement than a question.

"I wanted to find you.. and I succeeded.. mission accomplished?"

She shook her head and bent down to accommodate for the space between you. She put a warm hand to your cheek, eyes soft and almost concerned, "Don't go looking for me like that again, danger follows me closely."

You giggled at her seriousness, despite being roughed around and almost being sold as fish food (or worse) you felt somewhat at ease. The woman at your side brought you a strange feeling of comfort, comfort that the sea never brought you.

"I guess ill just have to follow you closer."

i already have ideas for part three.... hehehehehe

again, thank you for the asks they are sweet ! and comment if you want to be on the taglist for part 3 , i do have some other works in my drafts but im saving them for when i finish this series :) but asks are open !!!

@misswynters @haruko--bby @thesecondhandwoman @theirlaliengirl

[ixylle-d-from-the-stars]

Deathworlders everywhere but in Space

This is sitting in my brain because I haven't seen anyone else do this, but take a second to think about this: There are other deathworlders in space, terrifying ones, huge monster orc things. They are massive and nightmarish and impossibly strong. So thats why humans stand out. Thats how we survive. Human's are terrifying because we aren't built for one biome, one climate or even one planet. We aren't necessarily the strongest or fastest or scariest looking, but we're built to survive fucking everything. What if other deathworlder's are almost always only made to survive in one climate? (similar to some of the most deadly predators on earth currently) All the other deathworlders are terrifying, yes, but the second they step off their planet they're weak. Massive aliens of hulking muscle but their planet's gravity is a lot lower than the standard, so they barely meet the average strength bar whenever they go outside their gravity zone. Aliens that have venomous spikes all over their body and look gnarly as shit but their venom has practically no effect on 99% of discovered intergalactic species. Deathworlders whose planet is the nether from minecraft IRl, but they can't survive in any other temperature for any amount of time because their body just can't handle the cold and regulate their temperate (or, vice versa for tundra species). Aquatic species that are kraken-like nightmares, giant sirens and deadly squid-like beings. But they can't leave their home at all, because theres a very specific chemical makeup of their water that isn't currently found within their life-span distance travel. Deathworlders that genuinely can barely survive off planet and are frail compared to even the most docile prey species whenever they have to travel. Their called deathworlders because going to their planet is certain death, but if they leave they'll be meeting death just as quickly. And then along come humans, and everyones like, oh, another deathworlder, nothing to worry abou- wait. These guys dont seem to loose any of their natural strength off planet... and their fast and strong... and- AND THEY CAN SURVIVE IN PRACTICALLY ANY CLIMATE IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE??? HELLO? Oh and of course their predators. Of course most of their planet is completely uninhabitable for most of us. Mhm, yep. thats fair. Totally Basically, deathworlders are a thing, the more common 'terrifying alien monster' type, but their harmless because they can't survive like everyone else. They can't thrive like humans can. It scares the shit out of everyone for a wholeeeeee while, after all, no one ever expected a deathworlder that doesn't die.

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[thinkinonsense]

forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”

poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(

old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni

logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.

"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.

"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.

the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.

every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.

"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.

"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.

"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."

"has anyone ever told you that you're-"

"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."

logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.

"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"

"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."

logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.

"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.

it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.

"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.

logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.

then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.

the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.

"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.

"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.

"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."

it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.

"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"

"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.

logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.

"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.

logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.

"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.

he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.

"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"

the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.

"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"

you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.

"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.

"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.

"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."

"it gets dirtier than that."

"hmm... don't know if that's possible."

"i could show you if you like."

the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.

"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.

"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.

once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.

"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."

you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.

"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."

logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.

"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."

"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."

without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."

"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.

once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.

"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.

"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.

logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.

"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"

you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.

"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.

"inside, please."

that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.

"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.

"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.

"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒶 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

barrys little sister!reader x rafe, she’s naive, innocent, a bit dumb.

You sat on the chair in front of your desk, looking into your vanity mirror with focused eyes as you applied your lip gloss.

You pocketed it after, your eyebrows furrowed when you heard a knock on the door. Your brother was still selling, and he had always had specific instructions to not open the door when he’s not home.

You jumped when the person began banging now, shouting Barry’s name. You were torn, not sure whether or not to disobey your brother.

He shouted even louder, making you sigh and stand up. What’s the worst that could happen? You went over to the door, opening it so there was a crack.

“Hello?” You murmured, peeking through the crack of the door.

“Is he here?” The man asked, his voice urgent. You opened the door wider now, shaking your head at him.

His eyes widened when you opened the door. You were dressed in a pink juicy jacket, your lacy bra peeking out under along with miss me jeans, all things you had luckily found at some garage sale nearby.

And Jesus, if you weren’t the most precious thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

He stammered as he mumbled out an apology, beginning to walk away before you said something.

“Wait, sir!” You spoke, remembering how he also would never want to lose a customer, especially not because of you.

“Yeah?” He turned around.

“Are you- a friend of his, or something?”

He paused. “Something like that, yeah…” he said, his hands scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you stay here, just until he comes back. He’s out with some other guy right now.” You said with a small shrug, a smile on your face.

It’s as if you were a siren, because he didn’t know why, but he found himself drifting closer to you, shutting the door as he followed you inside.

“You want… coffee or something? Water?” You asked him as you went over to the counter, grabbing some chocolate milk from the fridge and pouring it into the cup.

“Uh.. no- no thanks.” He said, his hands on his knees as he sat on the couch.

You sat onto the other one, not noticing his staring while you drunk the chocolate milk.

“Uhm… if you don’t mind me asking, I’ve never seen you here before, and I know he never lets his girls stay-“

“Ew! No, no, no.” You quickly protested before he could finish, almost spitting out your drink. “I’m his sister.” You said with a giggle, his cheeks turned a light pink.

“Shit- ‘f course. I’m sorry.” He said with a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay. I live here, but usually I’m just in my room, and he tells me not to come out when people come over.”

“He never.. mentioned he had a sister. And he definitely didn’t mention he had one who was as pretty as you.” He spoke, his attempt at flirting clearly working when he saw your eyes widen and a small smile spreading across your face.

There was the sound of a motorcycle outside, stepping up to the trailer and going to unlock the door when he finds out it’s already open.

Barry furrowed his eyebrows when he opened the door to see you and Rafe fucking Cameron sitting there.

“The fuck is he doing in here? And what did I tell you about leaving this damn door unlocked? What the hell, y/n?” He said, voice booming.

You looked at him. “I’m sorry! He was banging on the door, and I was trying to do my hair. I can’t do that with all that noise!”

Barry sighed, shaking his head before waving his hand.

“Whatever, just- just go back in the fuckin’ room.” He said, making you huff and storm into the room.

“You never mentioned you had a sister.” Rafe spoke.

“I didn’t for a reason, country club.” Barry mumbled out when he noticed Rafe’s staring , already pulling out a bag full of the white powder.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A few days later, you were walking around the trailer park, simply saying hello and enjoying the nice weather. Rafe came up, presumably going to Barry. But you stopped him.

“Hey, Rafe!” You said with a smile again.

“Hey, sweetheart. He not here again?” He asked, nodding to the trailer..

“No. Out again. I’m so bored. That’s why I’m out here.”

“How long is he gonna be out?”

“I dunno… but he said he’d be a while.” You said with a shrug.

“It’s too late for a girl like yourself to be outside, you know? I think he would want me to bring you back inside.”

You sighed. “He would say the exact same thing.” You told Rafe with a pout, he just chuckled and put a hand on the small of your back, leading you back to your trailer.

“Uh, I should get going, I guess..” he told you, standing in front of the door now. You watched him begin to leave before you spoke again.

“Wait!” You said, stopping him like you did a few days before.

He turned around, eyebrows furrowed.

“Stay and keep me company? I think he wouldn’t want you leaving his little sister all alone.”

A grin making its way onto his face, he nodded. His plan was working.

Rafe and you sat back on the couch now, your legs propped up on the couch as you switched through the cable channels.

Rafe watched your every move with hungry eyes. He knew he needed to have you, and he would.

[zarnzarn]

TW: jumping on the manwhore au but aftermath, discussion of S/A, read carefully.

Three weeks pass.

Odysseus is carried through them with ecstasy and joy, reuniting and grieving and laughing and rearranging.

But then everything settles down, and-

It was him who'd ordered it. Ordered owls to be carved into every free inch of Ithaka, coveted shipments of the secretive birds for his personal menagerie, sold trinkets in the market. Made no secret of who favoured them, when he had half the houses painted blue.

But now every step he takes in his own home haunts him.

He cannot so much as look to the side before feeling the urge to flinch away, shame growing inside of him until it chokes him up. Cannot look at any owls. Cannot look at any of his men.

("Well, if our captain can't think his way out of it, at least now we know talking filthy works just as well!" One of the men chortles, unaware of how Odysseus' blood had run cold, standing with his hand raised to knock.)

("This day, you've lost it all, consider this as my goodbye-")

("Come on, she's a beautiful, powerful lady! How bad could it really have been, Captain?")

("Captain?" Eurylochus whispers, as Odysseus wipes the blood off his mouth and reaches for his cloak. The ships are silent, even though the roar of the waves has left. Eyes stare at him from all directions, wide and-

Pitying? Horrified? Odysseus can't really tell.

"Full speed ahead," He says, voice ruined, and keeps his chin high as he hobbles back to his room.)

(When the sirens come, all he sees is Penelope. It is nice, at least, to know that he can discard the intrusive thoughts creeping in about natural reactions and forced pleasures.)

("Please- please don't do this, don't make me choose, I'll do anything-")

("Leave me the fuck alone, both of you. If Penelope does not take me back after all of this, it's her choice. But I have to get all of us off this island and it's better me than you.")

"Ody- Your Majesty!" Odysseus reaches into his robes, pulls out the whittling tool and the wood, busies himself as he walks. It's one of the younger men, the ones who'd barely been boys when they left. "Listen, we were wondering if- if you'd come join us at the festival! The- all of the men, really, we've been- heh- missing you since we now have to share you with the rest of the kingdom. We could- we could sing together? Like we used to?"

Athena's prayers.

"You go ahead," Odysseus murmurs, eyes on the carving. "Next time."

"But you didn't come for the last one either!"

"I have-" He hears his own sharp tone, stops and swallows to soften it. He was terrible to all of them, he knows, those last few days aboard the ship, rude and sharp and brutal like all the other royals, where he never was before. "I have work to do. Have a good day. I've heard the new hound stock is coming in today, you should see if you want a pet."

He ignores whatever is said in response, walking on. He wonders, darkly, what they think of him. Do they still think he enjoyed it? That it was a privilege to be had by gods?

("He won't speak to us!" One of them hiss that night, when the lad comes back sniffling and downcast, like all the others. They'd grown up with Odysseus, almost like younger brothers, and all of the younger ones were taking the sudden frigid silence hard. They all were. Somewhere they had lost their friend, left him behind without noticing, until only their king returned. "He cannot possibly think we think less of him for sacrificing so much, for- the gods are impossible to hold up against, he can't think we blame him for-"

"We don't know what he thinks," Polites says, pulling his head out of his hands and wrapping his arms around himself. "He doesn't even look at us."

The men around the fire are all silent.

"He has to know, right?" Someone whispers. "He has to.")

"What did happen on the trip back?" Penelope says, voice quiet, sitting next to him. He jolts. When did he reach their bedroom? "Something did. You have barely touched me since that first day."

Odysseus opens his mouth, but for the first time, he has nothing to say. What can he? She had known, the first second he had turned his eyes from her in shame, and yanked him back in anyway with eyes blazing like a lion, growling that she didn't care what he had to do to come back, as long as he had.

Odysseus doesn't feel like he has.

Penelope carefully takes the whittling knife away from him, as well as the spear he'd carved. "And you have not prayed, after your return."

(He had tried. Had walked right upto the temple steps when everyone was asleep, and then turned around and thrown up in a bush.)

"Have you heard the story of the high priestess Medusa?" He murmurs, staring at the wall. Watches the shadows dancing across. "Athena used to tell me about her. One of her favourite devotees. I never understood why she cursed her, when it was not her fault."

Penelope puts a hand on his shoulder. Both of them are shaking. She has seen the scars, the ones that glow beautiful and bright, left behind by each god who touched him.

"A gorgon, snake-woman, capable of turning anyone she looked upon to stone, gods and humans alike. No eyes upon her, ever again."

The breeze blows in.

"At the time, I thought it to be a curse." He whispers. Remembers the story of the way she had screamed in the temple bower for Athena's help, insane, at the feeling he knows now is violation of self and celibacy both; Athena's chosen, ripped away from one of their ways of worship by force. "Now I know it was a blessing."

"But-" Penelope swallows. "Perseus-"

"Was a mercy." He looks at the ground. "She was pregnant. She did not wish to be. Athena granted her so."

"The shield is to honor her," Penelope murmurs. "Not a trophy."

He hums.

"I-" Penelope starts, voice thick. "I remember when you asked. When we first got married. If I was fine with not being joined with you in bed often, as long as I was satisfied. Was it-?"

"Only her priestesses can have true celibacy, her devotees less, me lesser. I had a crown to continue, so Athena accepted a more lenient vow, when I became her student." He stares out at the sea, the sky. "But I had vowed. I had sworn." A half-sob escapes him, some delayed noise of grief. It feels far away now, and the scars have all healed, but he cannot move past the violation, the stares, the whispers. The shame of betrayal. "I had an oath, Penelope."

"It was not your fault," Penelope whispers, taking his hand like he will shatter like glass. "Poseidon seems to target all of Athena's people. If anything-"

"We fought," He says, turning his head to press his face to her shoulder, shuddering as he confesses it. Abandoned by his own god. "She left. Maybe this is her punishment, all the eyes, all the time. Paranoid that another Olympian will jump out of the shadows, do it again."

"Or," Penelope says after a long pause. "She does not know. Only one way to truly find out."

Odysseus considers.

"Could you," He swallows, throat clicking. "Could you get me- the things from my shrine?"

-

He does not expect her to actually arrive.

He shakes in front of her, for the first time, feeling small and foolish and broken. Wishes he could go back to being twelve, do it all over correctly. "Lady Athena," He says, as formally as he can. "I beg your forgiveness. Please- please, is there anything I can do to-"

"About time," She interrupts, bored. "Finally willing to concede that I was right?"

Odysseus feels bile rise in his throat. "Yes, goddess. I was- stupid, to ever consider otherwise."

Penelope's hand is clenched tight in his robes, kneeling with him.

"Good," Athena says, pleased. "A war well won, all things considered. Our glory will go down in the history books." A pause. "Why are you on the floor?"

"What?" He chokes out.

"You've never kneeled to me once, even when I've taken you out at the ankles, you impudent brat," She snorts. Odysseus feels his pounding heart freeze in his chest at the- fondness in her voice. Fondness. She is not furious with him, not unforgiving. "What, do you want something else-"

She knocks him on the head, flicking him on the forehead playfully- then freezes as he looks up at her. Goes completely still, and he knows she can see what they did to him.

Penelope's hand reaches out to steady him.

"Only your forgiveness, goddess," His voice breaks. "Only that."

-

After, Penelope holds him, crying silently herself as she wipes at his cheeks. Athena sits with her head in her hands, helmet removed, anger finally under control but completely silent. Just sits there at the edge of their bed, bent over, face buried in her own palms.

Finally, she straightens, inhaling. Turns to look at him. "You may not be alive to see it," She tells him, quiet and furious. "But this is their last transgression, I swear to you. I will find a way to get revenge. They will die."

"I do not-"

"They will die. And no vows have been broken." She hesitates, hand hovering over his ankle. Odysseus crumbles, nodding desperately, and nearly passes out at the relief of the familiar touch, sharp and cleansing, godly and unlike the chaos of all the others. "You need not apologise to me about that."

He sniffs, turning his face into Penelope's shoulder. It feels freeing, some latent relief that Athena finally sees him, understands, forgives. She is not the terrifying goddess so far removed, cold and cruel, that he was starting to think she truly might be; bowed over in grief and horror for him, like a friend- he just wishes this was not the reason why.

Her eyes are gold at the edges. Crying. Nauseated almost, at the fact that- her uncle. Her father.

"Would you-" Odysseus wheezes. His heart hurts still, for their fight, for what happened after, for how hard he knows she will take it. "Can you-"

"Anything, champion," She says softly, strained. Gives him a half-smile. "My friend."

"The wings-" He whispers, feeling stupid, but-

"Slow," Penelope murmurs, reaching out to steady Athena as she climbs in close. Her voice is wrecked. She does not say anything more.

Owl wings fold around him, not white or blue or pink, patterned and brown like the mud; home. Home.

"No one will see you," Athena murmurs, and her voice is wretched, but caring. "No one can see you. Peace."

"Peace," Odysseus repeats, and leans into them both, letting the darkness shroud around them like an embrace. Peace.

Home.

[hrdenha]

— things they'll never know | s.jy

SYNOPSIS: a visitor at night doesn't sound so bad, isn't it? Not when it's your step brother who you spend your time fantasizing to.

PAIRINGS: stepbrother!sim jaeyun x virgin!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI! CONTROL WHAT YOU CONSUME. age gap, jake would be five years older than y/n who's now in college. loss of virginity. soft yandere jake although you really dont know what goes inside his head. strong fantasies by jake. yn being innocent but not so innocent. after shower escapades. silent touches here and there. endearment. IDK ANYMORE JUST READ. not edited, but hope y'all enjoy!

His home was silent when he got home from work. What can he expected when he's living alone? But sometimes he can imagine that you're here with him instead of your parents house. You're basically the reason why he bought a house much larger for a person living alone. He can imagine you reading a few books in the garden's patio, or play with layla in the living room, or maybe— fucking you in the kitchen as you tried your best to wash the dishes. Having your favorite skirt pushed up on your body as he fuck you with one leg up, your breast bouncing in every thrust he made.

And the best thing he wanted to do, fucking you in a room full on your pictures. Doing everything he can think of to have your pleasure out of you while being surrounded by the pictures he silently took whenever he had the time. Some pictures being your family's, you and jake together with your father and his mother... all smiles. As if the both of you didn't touch each other inappropriately. What would your father thinks if he knew every little thing that jake did and will do to his daughter?

Jake wasn't a saint. He knew he needed you, in more ways than he admitted to you. But, it's fine. You'll come around eventually. Maybe one day, you're the one who's trying to desperately cling on him begging for something jake will gladly give. He just have to wait.

After refreshing himself with a glass of cold water, he finally ascend the stairs towards his room. His senses immediately welcomed by the sweet scent of vanilla lingering in the air. The soft sound of water rushing was heard at the second door on the hallway, just beside his room. He stopped, the scent envelop his mind like a siren's curse hypnotizing it's prey to walk further into their trap. He didn't even heard the sound of water came into halt.

The impression of being alone was now thrown in the trash as jake walked in front of the door to knock. His hands doesn't even had the chance to make contact with the wooden door when it swung open revealing your small frame in front of him. The sweet redolence of vanilla scent became prominent each second passed that the door was opened.

Jake's breath was taken away from his lungs. You were standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a small white towel hugging your curves preventing everyone... most especially him to see everything. Your skin glisten from the water droplets that were kissing your soft skin; your wet hair was elegantly slicked back down on your back. He can perfectly picture your fingers slowly combing your hair as you take your bath.

"Jakey!" Jake internally flinched when he heard your cheerful voice. He look straight into your eyes as though he wanted to read your mind. 'fuck it!' He cursed before taking you by surprise, kissing you as if there was no tomorrow and to his surprise, you respond. He thought you'll scream at him, even slap him but no you fucking open your lips for him.

You groaned on his lips, hands snaking into jake's neck while he push your weight agasint the now closed bathroom door. He pushes his knee closer to you, practically letting you grind your core onto it by yourself.

"Look at that, flower. Do you want jakey touching you?" You nodded but jake decided it wasn't enough. "Use your words" He growled taking in your flushed face. "Mmm- I do want you touching me, jakey" You replied breathlessly on his neck. Jake's hand tug at the flimsy white towel causing it to drop and completely flash your bare body in his eyes. Jake cursed taking in the sight in front of him. He felt a surge of hot blood flowing through his veins and then to the very tip of his dick. Not now. Have patience, jake. Fuck.

He let himself touch you. His hands travelling down your soft skin, even flicking your nipples with his tongue.

"Can you ride my face, flower? I promise jakey will make you feel good."

It's been a week since that stunt the two of you pulled. After making you cum with his mouth, nothing more than that happened again in your disappointment, but that didn't stopped Jake in making advances. Giving subtle and not so subtle touches here and there. Grabbing your boobs just fine and saying it was all an accident. Or, that he wants to give you a massage and that came with a super close massage on your inner thighs giving accidental touched on your clothed pussy.

But then, you were still all smiles to him, as if nothing happened. So good in just receiving what he gives. Even closing your eyes whenever a certain touch got more desperate than the earlier ones but then again, you were receiving it innocently. As if being touched like this by your step brother is just a normal thing. As if your pussy didn't shake from the pleasure he just gave you the first day you moved in.

It was the start of summer vacation and instead of going with your parents, you decided to not go and stay in the country with him. With an excuse of wanting to have a brother-sister bonding and giving them their own 'time' together. That's a nice thing to say, right? No suspicions.

As the day progress, so is Jake's touches. Today is no different. Both of you in the theater room, watching a movie that both of you knew was long unnoticed for. The room was large enough for 20 people but despite the wide selection of comfy sofa, you decided that sitting on Jake's lap was the comfiest.

Nothing happened after you did, except from the 'accidental' grinding of your hips as you try to find a 'comfy position', both of you keep on watching together after that with occasional munch and drink from the food you ready.

Things escalated when you decided to step up your game, grabbing Jake's timid hands and putting it on your tummy making sure he was touching you directly on your skin. That's the reason why you wear a loose crop top shirt and a matching skirt with a cotton shorts that's thin enough to be called undies.

It seems like the man understand your purpose. He silently though shamelessly touched where you needed him to. He didn't react when he realized you're not wearing anythhng underneath, trying to keep his cool. Trying not to push you down and fuck you like an animal with no regards if you'll get hurt or not. That's what you should get for trying to push your luck but instead, the thing he pushed is your top. Pushing the material just enough on top of your breast for an easy access. The only thing he didn't do is touch you down there. Just a few inner thigh strokes wouldn't make the cut and you knew that he knew that, you're not the one whose feeling inadequately and deprived, the tent in his pants screams the same. And it feels like he was doing this on purpose whether he's teasing you or himself.

"I'm sleepy now, jakey..." You mumbled turning around to him before kissing the corner of his lips— you don't have a problem kissing him directly on the lips? — then pulling down your top which stopped his hands. "Goodnight" That's the last thing you said before walking to your room, the wetness in between your legs reminds you evidently of your step brother.

It was late at night, dreams are starting to work their way onto you albeit slowly, "Hey, flower..." The bed dipped and you heard a sound of shuffling from behind. "You asleep?"

You hummed, hoping it will be enough to answer his question. No, you're not. How can you, when you spend the last hours fantasizing about your stepbrother. Your finger weren't even enough to make you calm down. You still wanted more.

"Can't fall asleep"

"Can I help you fall asleep? Hmm, flower?" Jake whispered nuzzling by your neck as you lay on your back.

"Yes please", When the confirmation came out, jake couldn't help but groan. How can you be such a good, good, good girl just for him?

"Okay, just relax... let— jakey do his thing" That's the last thing you heard before a pair of hands travelled across your body, touching and kneading with lust and need. So tender and gentle with matching butterfly kisses over your clothes.

Jake pushed your top upwards, revealing your breast that never fails to make him hard. It's not small and not so big, just enough... just perfect fit whenever he let his hands cupped it. Now his mind is wandering to how it would bounce as you ride him. He can't keep himself from touching it after the fact that you silently give him a go signal to have his way on them earlier. And, just like earlier, it immediately respond by how fast it hardened.

His hands then continues that stopped at your waist, massaging it before making you open your legs, having it settle on either side of his body. Jake pushed closely, kissing your inner thighs with affection. Feeling his hot breath near your core made goosebumps rise on your skin. It took him some time before finally deciding to pull the material to the side that covers your nakedness.

"Shit—" He lowly cussed. Your eyes opened at that, peaking over him wordlessly asking what happened. "No panties, flower?"

"It's comfy..."

He snickers, eyes sparkling as he look down on you, "No, we both know that's not true flower." Not when you're this wet. "I bet you're waiting me to do this... hm?" You felt a finger tracing your slit, gently... softly, painfully as if a wind just traced your wetness just to tease you. "Just like earlier at the theater room?

"No teasing... jakey, please"

"Sorry, flower. Can't help myself. Is this all for me? Because of me?" And again, the tip of his finger ghosted over your line. You desperately chased it, unconsciously raising your hips just to let his warmth touch you.

Jake hummed, finally letting your wetness coat his fingers. Firmly rubbing your slit with the pad of his middle finger, making sure that every thrust would send pleasure on your clit. Wetness never stopped, the same time whimpers came out of your mouth.

And so, he let the same finger thrust inside. Slowly, having his finger feel the hotness from your walls before adding another digit. You moaned in response when he stared pumping it, can't keep himself from smiling just from the feeling of your walls. "...just my fingers, baby, and your pussy won't let it leave."

Jake let himself watch as you give yourself away for the pleasure. Look at you, writhing in pure bliss. What can your parents say when they know that the only time they can hear your voice raise was the time you where moaning in pleasure as your brother fingers you? Bet you can even be louder when it's his dick that do the work.

Your arms snake around his neck pulling him closer to enclose him with a kiss that jake gladly took, fighting for dominance that he's clearly winning. The same thing he wanted to do, dominate you.

Moans become louder as well as your breaths became heavier. Jake picked up his pace, finger you as he played your breast with his mouth. Can't have them go unnoticed, he love the way your boobs move as he fingers you. Your walls started tightening, and so is jake's cock twitch inside his boxers. With his fingers still thrusting, jake finally felt your orgasm.

He immediately dived down your pussy, licking your juices wholeheartedly as you whimper from how good he was making you feel.

"I want more, jakey...please"

Jake lick your pussy one last time before looking at you. Trying to fight the smirk that keeps making its way on his lips when he heard despiration in your voice, then faking the sadness in his face is just an easy thing to do.

"But I can't flower. I can't possibly do that to you. We know the rules right?" Jake keeps pushing your buttons, he should be. It's about time you choose, right? But, maybe he can have his way just this night. "I don't even know if you really wanted this. You're the one who told me that rule."

"But— I do. I want to. Let's forget that rule. I... I don't know what I'm saying that time" You replied breathlessly. And, jake felt he just win the lottery. He really had you where he needed. Letting you realize on your own that you want him as much as he wants you. Making you want the same thing you think should be forbidden from the start of this god forsaken relationship

"You really want me to help you, flower? Is that the reason why you eagerly wanted to spend your vacation in my house? You even rejected the idea of switzerland with our parents just so you can be here."

You tried to nod but stopped, he wouldn't like that. "Yes, I do. please." Trying to make your voice clear, but failed miserably just from the orgasm you had a few minutes ago.

"but how can I do that to you? you haven't even seen my cock yet. What if it scares you?" Jake continues to ask. His voice can make people believe that he's really concerned but the small patch of precum staining his boxer says otherwise.

"Let me see it. I promise I can take it." He hummed kissing your forehead before pulling you to sit up as he let himself do the same on the bed. "Then, take it out flower. Come on, here..." Jake guide your hand on top of his clothed tent, before using his to support his body weight as he watched you intently.

You give it an experimental squeeze, and jake can't help but groaned. "It's— hard..." You then pulled the material down, you didn't even need to pull his cock out when it willingly revealed itself to you. "...and big"

The man giggled from your reaction. "That's all you, baby. That's because of you." He whispered tracing your cheeks as you keep your eyes on his dick in awe.

"I did this?" Jake nodded, "That's why you should take responsibility. Now, how about giving it attention? Let's say a few licks? A kiss? Maybe, a thing or two from what you always do to that lollipop I gave you last time. Your call, flower. Just don't bite it okay? You don't want jakey to bleed to death, don't you?"

You laughed lowly, you certainly don't want to hurt jake. That's the last thing you want to do, the first thing being the want to pleasure him like the way he does to you.

You gave it a few pump. Jake was thick, with an average length. The tip is pink, balls are in same color, and gosh, he has the most beautiful and clean looking cock. Not that you seen others, jake wouldn't let you do that, of course. But then again, you decided that you don't want to do that. Not when you knew that Jake's is enough. It was standing proud in front of you, waiting just like it's owner who's watching you intently.

Your tongue then make in contact with his tip, giving it a few lick, earning confidence before you finally take the first few parts inside your mouth. "ah shit, flower... fuck! that mouth..." And from the looks of it, you're doing a good job. Your tongue swirled with his length as you tried to get accustomed on bobbing your head.

"Hmm... just like that. Tighten your throat for me flower. Yes— yes! fuck. You suck like a fucking whore."

You finally got your own pace, sucking him just the way he like as his tip clashed on your throat learning to take advantage of it as you tighten the cavern, earning more praises from jake. His words together with his hand on top of your head pushing you gently but firmly on his dick feels like he's testing your limits and it's working, it even sends waves of pleasure down your pussy. You can feel it embarrassingly clenching to nothing which didn't go unnoticed to the man.

"Gonna cum, flower... gonna fill up that filthy mouth with my cum. Then I'll kiss you, letting myself taste my own cum from your lips before spitting it again on your mouth so you can swallow it. You like that hm?" He is so dirty but you like it just from the way you moaned while his cock is practically seeking pleasure on your mouth. His dick twitch on your throat the same time jake's hand pushed your head further down causing you to gagged from his tip. Thought he'll get angry but guess that just added to his pleasure.

You let him keep you in that positon for a few seconds, only pulling out when you felt his hands finally stopped pushing you down. Jake cums a lot, majority of it swim straight away down your throat knowing your last circumstance while some of it still manage to fill your mouth with some escaping down your neck and into his lap.

"Sorry, flower. Keep myself waiting for you for two weeks now" Jake whispered taking your hand before pulling you closer to him as you tried to swallow his cum, which you gagged embarrassingly but still manage to do so. The man laughed settling the two of you in a more comfy position, with his back now on the headboard and you straddling his lap.

"Don't have to force yourself to swallow it..." He said pinching your chin in affection before tracing the line of cum on your neck up to the side of your mouth before enveloping you in a messy kiss that you gladly respond with. Jake groaned when he tasted himself on your mouth, his hands started travelling on your body not leaving a spot untouched. He then break the kiss before swiftly pulling your top off of you, attacking your chest as his next target.

You whined in response, arching your back to make your nipples closer to his attention. "Ja-jakey...?" His cock made its presence known when it hardened again, poking on your pussy when you're directly sitting on it. "Feel that flower? Told you it's all because of you" Jake said in a matter of fact tone, licking your neck before sucking a spot on it intended to leave something. "Bet it can slide right inside just from how wet you are, flower." And it's true, the only thing stopping his dick from sliding inside is the presence of your cotton shorts.

"But we can't do that, knowing that your a virgin. You can get hurt if we do that..." Jake's words started to get drowned when you started grinding your hips, creating the friction in between, desperately holding... chasing something.

"No need to do that, up" You immediately stand up on the bed, gripping his shoulder for support as he started pulling the last piece of clothing you had with ease then making you straddle him once more.

You gasped when you did so. It was much more different when feeling him skin to skin, feeling the warmth, coating his dick with your wetness. "You're making me crazy, flower." His hand came on your waist guiding your hips to keep grinding on his cock. Your juices and his precum mixing heavenly tainting your folds. Jake then felt you kneeled, taking his cock on your hand before lining it on your hole.

He knew it wouldn't work but he let you, he can tend to the problem later. For now, let him feel you despite your stubbornness. You slowly sink on him, but it won't work. Is it because his thick? Maybe you're just that scared? Or, because of the itching pain that keeps scratching on your core as you forced yourself down his tip. But, you still want more.

"Jakey, I can't... I don't think this will work"

"Then let me? Would you let me do the work, flower?"

"Yes" With that, Jake pushed you down. Laying you on the bed before hovering on top of you. He took his cock, slapping it on top of your tummy, measuring how far it can go if he'll make you take him full. And it goes down your navel, fuck. That's so hot. You even felt it twitch again, his precum leaving a stain on your belly button. Even gigling as you touch his tip to get some precum and licking it with your tongue, which jake groaned.

He then let the tip scratched up and down on your folds, making sure he'll hit your clit everytime that makes you flinch in pleasure. When he had enough, jake then push your legs revealing your pussy to him in more ways one can imagine.

"Keep this open, okay?" He reminded as he tapped on your legs, "This will hurt for awhile but I know that you can take it." He kissed you again now in comfort, "You ready?"

You nodded your head, as you felt his tip slowly sliding in. When the whole tip was in, jake stopped looking at you reminding you to take a deep breath. And you did, you felt yourself relaxed ready to take another inch but the next thing you knew, jake immediately shoved his cock inside in one swift move.

"Fuck!" He cursed at the same time you screamed. "Ahh! It hurts, jake... shit, Why did you do that?" Tears now staining your eyes, the pain on your core still evident. "I'm sorry, flower. It would still hurt otherwise, why not have it in one go."

"Fuck..." You whispered, trying your best not to move or even breath.

Jake kissed your lips, then giving kisses all over your face "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He's apologizing but you both knew he never really meant it. Not when,

"Hmm, you don't have any idea how long I waited for this, y/n..." The pain started to subside from the way jake's thumb circled your clit that the matched with his small thursts. The diversion of your attention from the pain to the pleasure that jake is doing is deemed effective. It didn't took long before your voice started to build up to a whimper. You even grinding your body on your own now, "Move, jakey..."

He gladly do so. Jake started pulling out before thrusting right back in. He looked on the way his cock disappear from your pussy, clearly seeing the lines of blood on the edge of his gun and it turns him on even further.

"You're making me crazy, i swear. So, fucking crazy!" Jake's thrusts picked up its pace and so does your moan. The night was calm and silent but there's another story going on inside your room. The four corners of walls echoes the harsh slapping of skins, curses, groans, and moans.

"Jakey... ugh, jake! Yeeah..." Lewd noise continues to dominate and no one will care. No one will disturb the two of you. You can scream and cursed all you want and you'll never worry about a thing.

"Does it feel good, huh? Yeah, flower? Does my cock makes you feel good? Now, I can fuck you like a slut you truly are." The pleasure is intense. He keeps hitting your sweet spots without fail. His weight on top of you, his voice, his smell, his looks all mixed together in every thrust he make to push this pure bliss on you. You wanted him You needed him.

You can't even think straight now, the only thing your brain can think of is his cock rutting inside you and how you want it to keep going.

"Flower's now dumb with my cock? Bet you can't even function now without me fucking your pussy everyday. You like that? You like it if I'll fill you up with my cum? Have you walk outside with my cum running down your legs?" Jake laughed when you moaned in response, the unfocused look on your eyes as well as the way you clutching the sheets and your pillow is enough answer for him.

"Or, should I just make you pregnant? Right, make you carry my babies all night long. I'll fuck you every chance I get. I'll never leave you alone, not even for a second... ugh— will fuck you in the kitchen, fuck you while you wash the dishes or just doing the laundry. I'll even fuck you while we dine, will eat you out instead the dinner you cook before fucking you and cumming inside you again. And when you're pregnant, I'll still keep fucking you. I'll wait as your breast—" He harsly cupped your right boob before squeezing it, "becomes full with milk then I'll gladly drink it as I fuck you again and again until the baby is born. Our parents wouldn't even know that I'm the one who'll impregnated you, flower."

"Jakey... please,"

"You really think I'll let you go after this? I'll make sure you'll keep on coming back. Your my own personal slut, and sluts keep their pussy open for use whenever I like."

"Yes, yes. I'm yours, j-just yours jakey!" Jake pushed your legs further down to open, his calloused hands firmly pinning it on place as he desperately chase your high as well as his. "Fuck, flower... your tight—" It'll leave a bruise, and both of you knew it but doesn't care. Jake loves to leave his mark on you in anyway possible, and this is just one way after a few more ways he can think of, not that you mind.

"Uh, sh— I think I'm..."

Jake's thrust didn't stop even after you cummed, he keeps on rutting his cock inside even making you work for your third climax of the night as he chase that fine inkling of orgasm that keeps hiding away from him. Pleasure was on but he still finding something... more. And, it didn't took long before he finally got it. Groaning with his eyes closed as his thrust goes frantic before feeling his cum mixing with yours in painting your walls. He moaned in contentment as he reached his peak, laughing breathlessly after the stunt.

Jake gives you a kiss, more passionate and sweet. The harsh and desperate movement nowhere to be found as he keep his cock inside you with small thrust, as if he's keeping his cum from escaping your womb.

"You really want me pregnant?" You whispered after chuckling. Can't deny that you don't want anything other than his dick inside you. "I believe, I clearly expressed my opinion about that earlier flower"

You felt him pulled out, the same time you felt a hot line dripping down your hole. Jake on the other hand traced the line of cum before pushing it back on your whole that made you laughed.

"Jakey! You know that we can't..." The man pulled the covers on both of your body. Jake made himself comfy beside you his fingers tracing circles on your upperbody. "Why not? We're not the same blood and our parents can stay whenever they are if you want. Then, no one will stop us."

"You can do that?" You asked, hands busy playing with his hair. Jake simply answered yes. You don't know the things he can do much more the things his money can do. He can do that if you wanted him to. Maybe, you two will just get a call one day about an allegedly 'accident' that your parents are involved into.

Jake can do things. Hell this is much more easier compared to the things he did just to make you completely his. And, the parents will just be a small 'disturbance' for him. For now, he'll just let them have their fun on another country away from you or him. They wouldn't get hurt with the things they wouldn't know, do they?

comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ❣️

© hrdenha | 2024

[yandereunsolved]

✗ ❛ Yandere Five Hargreeves (S1) ❜ ✗

Clicking off the last light, you wish the department store a peaceful night. It was your best friend during the weekdays. The boisterous speech of irritated moms and angsty teenagers was replaced with pure silence. No exhausted cashiers or store emergencies due to shoplifters or disgruntled higher-ups.

It was almost daunting. Taking the last shift and closing as the manager made it seem like the world had ended. It was like you got a picture-perfect frame for the all-consuming feeling of being alone. You almost enjoyed it, if it weren't for the reminder that this was real life and tomorrow would be just as noisy as the last.

You take out your extra pair of keys and secure the right one as you walk towards the exit doors.

"Question?" A slightly high-pitched, younger male voice inquires.

You whip your head around to see the outline of a pubescent boy standing near some mannequins.

"Hey, kid. You can't be in here. It's past closing time. Take yourself and whatever other sneaky friends you have and go home." You state dismissively. You really don't want to have to call the cops again because of some moronic teens.

You are frozen for a moment as the kid appears right in front of you. It was like some weird magic trick.

"Damn it. You don't remember me. You haven't met me yet." The kid mutters to himself as he paces around you. "It's me, Five." He urges. "Question, remember. You have to remember me. You have to remember us."

"Hey, we need to get you—"

An unexplainable force pushes you onto the tiled floor. Before you are able to groan, the kid, Five, wraps his arms around you, and suddenly you are halfway across the department store. Not even given a second to process the commotion, you are tugged along by Five. Shots ring out, and you try to pull yourself out of his grasp.

"Wait!" You hiss. "What the hell is happening!?" You snap while crouching beneath the rack.

Five stares back at you incredulously. His expression spells out 'excuse me, dumbass?'

"Shit. We don't have time for this. We're partners, like in the future. Some bad shit happened, and we ended up together. Got that? All caught up? We have to go now."

He yanks you up and tries to do his weird teleporting thing again, but gets hit with some weird bullet. It causes him to seize and fall to his knees. You risk a glance up to see two armed people in masks heading straight towards the both of you. You can't breathe.

"W-What?" You squeak out in panic.

You drop to the ground near him as your breath quickens. The air around you smells so stale, like it's depriving you of oxygen instead of giving it to you. You clutch your chest in a futile attempt to calm yourself. One moment turns into two, and you hear nothing going on around you.

A sneak peek, and the intruders are frozen. You turn your gaze toward the floor and see that Five isn't moving an inch. There are no smells—putrid or refreshing. There seems to be no air, but your chest is still moving. There is nothing but this moment. 

"Completely alone. Frozen in time. I can freeze time!? What the fuck? This is like... I can do this?" You whisper-shout to yourself. Why are you whispering? You can shout as loud as you'd like. "Fuck yeah!"

Another bullet rings out.

Okay, perhaps yelling isn't okay in accordance with freezing time.

The same pair of arms drags you under the check-out counter. You take a moment to catch your breath and smile. Police sirens blare from somewhere outside. You hear the intruders scramble to retreat and escape.

"You haven't gotten any smarter." Five mumbles wistfully as he leans against your shoulder. "I've found you again. Question, my baby. Stay with me a while. Stay."

He finally has you again. Clever darling, thinking you can use your past to hide from him. He'll just have to start all over again. He can do that, and not even time can keep him away from you now.

[beautysamour]

sub miguel begging to cum after edging him? or any kind of sub miguel tbh.. please please PLEASE i need it for my health 😭🙏

edging miguel o’hara and having him beg ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨

— a/n: i got a little carried away…

warnings ﾟ𐦍༘⋆: vulgar language, miguel has the time of his life, quite literally fucking him stupid, miguel likes when you make him feel stupid while he’s needy

“Please, amor, just put them back in…” Miguel lifts his hips up trying to entice you to put your skillful fingers back in his ass.

His hole clenches and unclenches as he bucks his hips and tugs against the handcuffs restraining him from reaching out to you. You raise a brow, his attempt is futile.

“Amor,” he pleads, “I was so close—“

You made an obnoxious sound as you stretch your arms, Miguel’ heartbeat drums loudly in his ears. You remain in front of him, back straight and eyes on his dick, “Having you cum would defeat the entire purpose, right hermoso?”

A throaty groan leaves his throat at the nickname. He hides his face in the bicep of his left arm and pathetically bucks his hips trying to give you an easy way to his ass.

You snicker, it was always so satisfying to watch Miguel break in the palm of your hands. People looked up to him, figuratively and literally. Some admired, and some feared. Most were just intimidated, but never you, no.

How could you when all it took to have him withering underneath you was a finger?

His entire body jerks as you circle the head of his cock, “Miguel,” you purr. He bites down on his lip, drawing blood, at the way your voice circled through his head like a sirens song—tempting and dangerous.

He gasps at the taste of his own blood.

“Wanna see you Miguel.” You draw small hearts on his tip as your other hands rubs his hole, “You’re so pretty baby, don’t hide yourself.” You press a kiss on the insides of his thighs and a feeling a pride surges through you when you hear another part of him crumble underneath your hands.

The tip of your finger easily makes it way inside of his hole, a heart wrenching moan is heard by the man who owns it.

Your panty gets stickier with each moan, and whine, and whimper your man makes.

He bucks his hips when you don’t go further than just the tip of your finger. He’s dizzy, so, so, dizzy. He’s not sure how long it’s been, he lost track after the fourth time you took your, to his demise, talented fingers out of his ass and off his dick. He wants to cry but he won’t—it’s the last thing keeping his dignity somewhat intact even though you’ve destroyed most of it.

It was the one thing he would not give you the satisfaction of having. He tries to keep that thought clear in his mind but it’s hard when you circle your tongue around his pretty, red tip.

“Y/N—“

He bucks his hips towards you as you shove your entire finger along with a second one into his ass. He loses the ability to breathe as your fingers find his prostate immediately, “Is it good?”

You smirk as the back of his head flops onto the pillows, his face exposed for you to watch.

Yes. Yes it was, it’s always good because it’s coming from you. But he couldn’t say it—your voice swirls through his head and it renders him helpless. All thoughts in his head are about you—all he sees is you, feels is you, and hears is you.

All he can say is your name, and he moans it out for you to hear.

Your heart skips a beat and it’s tempo matches the pulsing of your pussy. “That’s good to know, hermoso.”

If all his thoughts corrupting into you and his lack of breathing made him feel helpless—it was nothing compared to now.

You carefully watch his expression as he pretty cock stands up straight, the tip so beautifully red, and his hips sporadically bucking up as you abuse his prostate.

You rub, and poke, and thrust your fingers in and out of his ass—your eyes darken with lust as you watch his face, you shove your hand down your panty and start to finger yourself— fuck, Miguel knew what to do.

Miguel arches his back, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you play with his prostate. He felt stupid, he had no thoughts in his mind but you—only you and all that was coming out of his mouth was your name as his ass chased your fingers every time you nearly pulled them out.

Mierda, you were so good. So good, it feels so good, so good, so good, so good, so good. His eyes crossed as you quickened your pace and dragged him closer to the edge, his ab muscles start to contract and—fuck, just a little more, just a little—

You started to laugh. Laughed at the way his mouth hung open, at the way his eyes crossed and rolled to the back, and at the way tears welled in his eyes.

This was so fun.

And gods did he sound beautiful as he begun to wept.

Miguel couldn’t remember what he was supposed to be thinking about. Everything before this moment was gone from his mind—his own name foreign to him. It hurt, his body was burning and his dick was so painfully yearning for your touch that he might never be graced with, and he wanted to cry.

He felt a part of his soul shatter as his tears wet the pillow beneath him.

He chokes on his sobs. He tries to reach out to you as you start to pull your fingers out of his ass, but his handcuffs restrain him and more tears escape him, “No puedo más, no puedo más, no puedo más,” he cries, voice coarse.

He nearly full on sobs when all you do is hum. He looked wrecked, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and eyes unfocused as he deals with the damage of not being able to cum again.

He pants and rolls his hips as you hum a sweet tune to him, caressing him everywhere except the place he wanted you to touch.

“Yeah?”

He sobs, “M—mhm.”

His hips buck up when you wrap your hand around the base of his dick, you push his hips down with your other hand to stop him from being greedy but it doesn’t stop the twitching of his body.

He chokes on his saliva when you take his tip into your mouth, and suck. You run your tongue all over his tip, going back and forth between kitten licks and circling around it.

Every few seconds, you’d drag your teeth around his sensitive tip as your hands went to his balls—Miguel felt like he was going to pass out.

You take your hands and mouth off his dick in one sudden movement, he whimpers and sobs as you deny him of heaven once more.

He got to the edge a lot quicker than you thought he would’ve, and if you were a second too late, he would’ve came.

That sensitive, huh.

You thrust to fingers into his mouth as he opened them to complain, “Miguel,” you purr and he looks at you like a wounded puppy as he softly sucked your fingers. “Do you want to cum?”

You pretend to ignore that fact that you put him in the situation, that he desperately wanted to because of how much you played with him.

He nods, moaning your name softly around your fingers as proof.

You smile, enjoying how sweet he was being. It almost made you want to let him cum right at this moment, but he wasn’t desperate enough. You’ve successfully broken his pride, you’ve made him cry and give up all the power he could’ve had over you, but he hadn’t realized something you wanted him to know and accept.

Something that would really prove he is yours.

You move away from his body, enjoying the way his head follows you like a lost puppy, and sit down on the pillow next to his head. You spread your legs pulling your panty to one side, quietly gasping as the fresh air hits your warm, wet pussy.

You tap your pussy, “Come here.”

Miguel looks up at his handcuffed hands then back to you, his eyes stupidly asking you how he’ll be able to move. You raise a brow making him feel more stupid.

You take note of the way his dick twitches and his mouth slightly opens

He tries to use his pussy filled brain to figure out how to get up, he rolls to his side and tumbles onto his front. His eyes roll to the back of his head as the smell of your pussy reach his nose.

He lifts his ass in the air, allowing him to push himself onto his knees and he crawls. He crawls until he’s in front of you and drops himself right in front of your pussy—you grab onto his hair as his warm breath hits your pussy rendering the cold air useless.

“Good boy,” you whisper. You whimper as his mouth fully wraps around your clit—“Fuck, Miguel!”

You laugh as you moan with how good he was moving his tongue, “You’re doing so good,” you praise as you start petting his hair. Miguel chokes against your pussy but doesn’t pull away.

Your head hits the headboard as nudges his nose into your pussy. You tug on Miguel’ hair—pulling him closer—as you groan in unison with him, the vibrations making your mouth drop open.

“Ye—yeah, right there Miguel, right there—!”

He grinds the sheets hoping that he’ll be able to catch up with you— “Amor,” he mumbles into your pussy, “Can—can I—?”

“Yes,” you moan, “Yeah, you can. Good boy, my good—good boy.”

Miguel stops moving his tongue and opens his mouth a little more when you squeeze your thighs around his head, he wanted to swallow every last drip of your cum. You tug his hair and he closes his eyes as you reach your peak.

You let out a string of curses as your vision goes white, Miguel may have no coherent thoughts right now, but he definitely remembered how to fuck you.

You shakily grind against him as you finish cumming in his mouth. His tongue is stagnant and you ride it through your orgasm. The moment is almost perfect until you realize Miguel is crying against your pussy.

You immediately snap out of your pleasured daze, genuine worry taking over your lust. You tug on his hair, lifting his face away from your pussy, and you try to ignore that feeling in your stomach when you see his beautiful, fucked out face with tears running down the sides of it.

However your worry diminishes when you look past his face and see how he’s still grinding against your shared bed.

Oh.

“Miguel,” you say softly, filled with love and care, “How do you feel?”

He looks up at you,“Can’t,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head to the side, “Come here.” You reach down to his upper body area and wrap your arms around his chest like a hug. You lightly pull him towards you and he crawls his way into your lap burying his face into the side of your neck, you reach for the keys for his handcuffs and unlock them. His hands and arms immediately go around your torso as he nuzzles his head against your neck.

“What do you mean “can’t” hermoso?”

He bucks his hips showing you the obvious problem, “Can’t cum.”

Oh.

You feigned ignorance, “What do you mean?”

He cries against your neck, he was too frustrated, too on edge.

He couldn’t cum. Not without you.

“I—I can’t cum. No—not without feeling you.”

There it is. The realization.

Your silence prompted him to continue, “It’s not the same, no—nothing feels as good as you—nothing can compare. Not ever since I met you, amor. Nothing is—!”

Miguel moans against your neck as he came in your hand. He twitches, and bucks his hips as his cock pumps out loads and loads of cum over your hand and lap. You look down, not that surprised at what happened.

All it took for him to cum was a simple pump from your hand. But you couldn’t care less about the mess.

What mattered was that he was really yours.

[astrow0rldx]

pac 18+ their sexual desires for you

one

"In the bed all day, bed all day, bed all day. Fuckin' and fightin' on It's our paradise and it's our war zone It's our paradise and it's our war zone". could be in a relationship already, or they desire to court you, take you on a date, outside walking, living together, cutesy romantic things. someone could have hurt someone, now they want to fight you back sexually. or just hurt you in the bedroom, mentally and physically. they could desire you to be this siren coquette person, where your mysterious and don't show to much affection or care for them. play mind games on them. which may be your reaction to getting hurt, or what's hurting them. but at the end of the day they want to feel tied to you, committed to you and your where home is. a lot of people have that taste in relationships, where they don't want all of them unconsciously, but they want them to be theirs. but this fight in the bedroom, is going to be chaotic, and may want to use handcuffs, ropes, etc. even risky sex where it's so much fire passion you have a baby, now you are trapped. they could want to keep this relationship professional, or surface level in a sense, take it as it resonates. they want to fuck and argue like married couples though, but them being the one you come to too fuck on a bad day and you come to them about all your problems. any type of psychological problems you have, they want to fuck it out of you, they want to see it come out while your fucking, they want to fuck you in the state of being so hurt and broken you don't even want to fuck. but whats coming through strongly is the surface level, mysteriousness, detachment, & professionalism of the connection, the conflict and heartbreak of it, and realizations that is prominent in their sexual desires.

two

they could be dreaming about you, delusional, fantasizing. trying to control and tame themself because you are so fucking sexy. they could be thinking about undressing you and exploring your body. they could desire foreplay, going out to eat, or making food for you. kissing, making out, hugging, on top, bodies together then he gets to slowly undress you. you could be kind of perfect to them, or like they met their match. because they have a lot of ideas, and imaginary energy when it comes to you. in an animalistic, passionate way. they desire to uncover your mystery, see your wild side. exchange kinks. see how you would look with their dick in you mouth. see what it would be like if y'all started a competitive, bratty game and fucked till both of you guys was timed out, but the sex be so playful, expressing, fun, and bright. they want to balance their emotional side with their sexual side. after care, dates, making food for you, helping you with your clothes. even making family stuff, mom/dad/kid involved. them being the daddy. my advice, that outside of the question, make them wait lol. be more teasing till the finish line.

three

im getting a vibe of we about to get some shit straight type of sex. you don't know what i'm going to do to you when i see you. maybe for some they are proving their loyalty and how much they are standing on business for you. when you get inside the bed they are going to be persistent, long lasting, stamina. very excited to see you, celebratory sex. the adrenaline of like sneaky link type of sex "this shit feel like teenage fever". "who came to make sweet love..not me. when we... fuck". they say but they desire to transform something with this sex, maybe they desire to come back into contact with you and kind of hesitant, but they desire you. for most of you they kind of want to be in and out of your life, coming and going when they please and you still being (one) of their girls. but they want both parties to be chill on their own in their own life. but for some it is an energy of being no contact, or at a distance. maybe needing some type of travel, or time and building to get to a certain place. and they kind of desire the ability to be at peace with you. they could desire helping you in a certain way, financially, sexually, or just with love when your feeling a lack of it and be each other peace of mind/sex. bring peace and material abundance so you can be good on your own feeling satisfied.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

❧ prompt:  "Why are you so worked up?" "Because they wouldn't stop fucking staring at you like they wanted to eat you." From here.

❧ the act’s performers: kiyoomi sakusa x f!reader

❧ wc: 1.7k

❧ warnings: swearing, jealousy, kissing, insecurity (let me know if I missed stuff)

❧ a/n: just a little something lolol idk I hope ya'll like it!

"You're not my type."

"And you think you're mine?"

Sakusa Kiyoomi could not believe the conversation he was forced to participate in. A mixture of disgust and amusement contorted his features at the woman staring up at him with a devious glint in her irises. Over the last year, it was almost nonstop bickering between the two of you. Well, according to Atsumu it was flirting on your end and bickering on his friend's end.

To be honest, a study needed to be conducted on why your presence alone could drive the wing spiker to insanity. From the way you would push past his physical boundaries without hesitation to the siren-like expressions, you would toss his way during class. It stripped him of his rationality and delivered him straight to madness.

All he wanted was to focus on college and volleyball, and yet sometimes all he could focus on was you.

"If I'm not your type, why do you only bother me?" The black-haired male surveyed your face for a nonverbal answer to his question. However, as always, he was greeted with a flirtatious bat of your lashes rather than a clue as to what was going on in that head of yours.

"How are you so certain that I only bother you?" Bringing your index finger to your mouth, you lightly bit down on your nail with a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your answer evidently caught the male off guard, as there was a momentary crack in his usual nonchalant demeanour. "How arrogant of you to think you're the only one."

"If you have other toys, go bother them instead. I'm busy." Sakusa shifted his gaze away from you, with tension applying to his jawline. He had to bite back the urge to pout. Where was his mask again? Why did you have to catch him in a moment when he was shieldless?

"Really? You won't miss me, pretty boy?" The hand that was once near your mouth was now extended so that you could guide his attention back to you. To both of your surprise, he did not stop you immediately when your finger applied light force on his chin. Though once his dark eyes landed on yours, he was prompt in swatting your hand away.

"First, don't call me that. Second, why would I miss you?" The volleyball player's words were coated in venom, but he ignored the bitter taste. It was nothing in comparison to the emotion flooding his chest right now.

And the last thing he wanted to admit was that his heart was drowning in jealousy.

"Okay, pretty boy. Just remember... Be careful what you wish for." After dipping an eyelid into a wink, a harmonic laugh follows your words as you step away from the male.

Sakusa instantly regretted his choice of words, and yet all he could do was glare in response.

****

Silence and peace accompanied Sakusa for the following two weeks, along with bright warm spring days. His volleyball team even secured a win against their rival, one that had the hallways of the college buzzing in excitement. But the male could not find himself satisfied with his victory - not when someone was missing from the stands. A certain someone who attended his every game to shamelessly flirt and ward off the fangirls.

It was becoming progressively clearer just how much your absence impacted his daily life. Just how much he did not truly care for quiet days. And just how much he missed your mischievous mannerisms.

Atsumu practically snapped at his team-mate on day 13 - claiming that Sakusa was merely ruining his own chances with the girl he obviously liked. Sakusa cursed out the blonde-haired boy in response, but he secretly agreed with everything that was said.

But what was stopping him from seeking you out? Over the last year, you were the one who pursued him. Should the tables not turn anyway at some point? It was only fair that he chase after you now. Even if that meant going against his better judgment.

Who said emotions were supposed to make sense?

It was day 16 when Sakusa was finally successful in diminishing the distance between you two. Well, rather than being successful in his mission, it was pure luck that caused him to accidentally stumble onto your location. However, luck was truly a nasty creature, as the scene he had entered was one that had a storm brewing inside of the male's chest.

A sickening realization had suddenly plagued the male.

He hated the idea of you "bothering" someone else. Why the hell did he send you into the arms of another!?

"If I had known there were such pretty girls in Japan, I would have come here earlier." The blue and blonde-haired male towered over you with a smirk on his mouth. Based on his accent, he was a foreigner who likely transferred to the school recently.

"I'm flattered that you think I'm pretty enough to move across the globe, Kaiser." A cheerful smile painted across your lips as you interlocked your fingers behind your back. It was more friendly than flirtatious, yet Sakusa felt rage burn in his palms.

When he made the comment about your other toys, he did not think you'd actually give him space. In the past, he had made all sorts of snarky remarks. How many times did he tell you to go away? He had lost count. But what mattered was that you never acted upon his harsh words.

What changed now? Were you fed up with him?

"I'd do a lot more than that for someone as pretty as you, y/n." This time the male named Kaiser lightly grabbed onto your chin, forcing your head to move skyward. And as he leaned in closer, his eyelids dropped just a smidge which even had someone like you blinking in slight astonishment.

But before you could register what was occurring - a new individual entered the stage. Warm fingers were wrapped around your wrist, and with one swift motion, you were pulled away from Kaiser. A familiar scent of laundry detergent tickled your nose. It didn't take you too long to realize whose chest you were currently pressed against.

"Kiyoomi?" His name was breathed out with a fascinated laugh as you peered up at him. Although, his consideration was not on you at all. No, he was engaged in a staring match with the foreign soccer player.

"Y/n. I didn't know you have no standards." The comment comes from Sakusa who refuses to release your wrist. A grimace moulds your features at his incorrect and disrespectful assumption.

"Oh-oh, what do we have here? You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend, y/n." Kaiser raised an eyebrow with a humourless chuckle vibrating in his chest.

"I don't have a boyfriend, that's why." Sakusa tensed up at your retort, which only brought laughter to flow past your lips. "But I do have a grumpy cat it seems." A quick glance was stolen of the male beside you who remained focused on what you realized he considered his love rival.

"But your heart isn't owned by the grumpy cat, now is it?" The soccer player discovered far too much entertainment in the situation. Sakusa was practically sending daggers in his direction, and yet it was all just simply amusing. Kaiser was not interested in you enough to willingly enter a fistfight. But he could not keep himself from teasing the unknown male. "I'm sure I can satisfy your needs much better than he can, my sweet y/n."

"We're done here." It's the latter comment that has the wing spiker suddenly dragging you down the hallway. However, right before leading you away, he released your wrist and instead tangled his fingers with yours. Butterflies sang a melody inside of your stomach as a number of curses were mumbled against the fabric of his mask, causing you to stifle back a titter.

"Why are you so worked up?" The inquiry is posed once Sakusa leads you into an empty classroom. The black-haired male only realized he was holding your hand when his feet stopped carrying him to his destination. A light blush could be seen peeking out from the top of his mask.

It was ridiculously adorable.

"Because he wouldn't stop fucking staring at you like he wanted to eat you." His words were huffed out as his fingers were sent to toy with the strings looped along his ears.

"Eat me? Oh, I'm sure he wanted to do much more." Since ending the physical contact, Sakusa remained a meters distance away from you. A calculated decision on his part, clearly. But you were prompt in destroying that distance with a few steps forward. "I thought you wanted me to play with my other toys, hm?"

The volleyball player elected to remain silent, instead his dark irises bore into yours. Even when you extended your hand to lightly remove his mask, he did not utter a word. Nor did he disturb your movements.

When he brought you here he was not thinking straight, he had no plan. He just wanted to separate you from that man.

"Kiyoomi, if I had known you were such a jealous boy, I would have used this to my advantage earlier." The admission was exhaled with a dramatic sigh, but the playful edge to your tone was difficult to miss. "If you want me, pretty boy, I think now is the time to confess. Unless, you want me to go back to -"

The soccer player's name was swallowed back down as Sakusa's lips suddenly crashed against yours. There was no way in hell he would ever allow you to say another man's name in a romantic context again. The pads of his fingers brushed over your cheeks so lightly you could have confused it for a breeze. The earlier feelings of jealousy melted away with each passing second, as Sakusa bathed in the thrill of finally giving in to his desires. And when you broke the close proximity to catch a breath of air, he was quick to bring your mouth back to his in an urgency you had never expected from the male.

Well, it was needless to say... Operation jealousy was a success.

[kissitbttr]

miguel with a jealous fiance

-

“stare a little longer and you might actually kill her, y/n” jess chuckles as she follows your eyesight, spotting miguel being flirted by a woman whom you’ve never seen before.

you and miguel are attending a gala fundraiser. run by some rich bastard named ‘bruce wayne’. he didn’t want to go at first, but because mr. wayne had sent the invitations to you both himself, it would be rude not to attend. plus, it’s best if he’s out and try to socialize, make some new friends instead.

but now you’re starting to regret the decision when you see some red haired getting cozy with your man. she keeps touching his arm, giggling obnoxiously at something he said. which pisses you off because your fiancé is not that funny.

Ignoring jess’s comment, you twirl the wine glass softly, emerald green manicured nails clicking against it. you bite the inside of your cheek with cold eyes dead set on the girl. you wanted to laugh at how that woman had been trying too hard to catch his attention.

miguel isn’t doing anything rather than answering without holding an eye contact, casually sipping his whiskey on rock as he searches through the crowd. you could tell he’s annoyed. but it wouldn’t be polite for him to tell her to fuck off, would it?

god, you wish he had the balls to actually do it.

“you know he wouldn’t do such thing right?”

scoffing as if it’s the most stupid question ever, you nod. of course he wouldn’t. he’s too damn crazy about you.

“i know. it’s her i don’t trust” you mutter, almost growling. “that bitch could clearly see he has a ring on his finger. she fucking blind or something?!”

jess could only laugh while shaking her head. she thinks you and miguel are too much alike. a perfect pair. “then show her who’s the boss.”

“oh i will” you respond with hesitation, gulping down every last drop of your drink before setting the glass down on the table. “be right back”

with that, you flick your hair over your shoulder, adjusting the straps of your silky emerald green dress and begin walking towards your fiancé’. jess’s commentary about ‘try not to kill her’ from behind fall deaf upon your ears.

sorry, jess. no promises.

you could feel all eyes on you as you walk. it’s hard not to. men and women craning their shoulders to get a better look at the beautiful woman who looks like she’s invented class and beauty herself. the world completely stop when you walk through the crowd.

and not to be cocky or anything, but you’re fully aware of how gorgeous you are. with curves that look like built by the gods themselves, full plump soft lips and long, beautiful thick hair that cascade down to your back and eyes sharp enough to draw sailors if you were ever a siren.

it’s like looking at freyja the goddess whom paid a visit on earth.

as miguel’s eyes continues to scan through the busy evening filled with mindless chatters, his dark red irises then stop at you. a small grin creeps to his face when he sees you walking towards him with your head held up high.

but your eyes aren’t on him, it’s on the woman.

“i just think, that you are sooo-“

“so what?” you cut her off with a fake smile and arms crossed over your chest. standing beside your soon to be husband, you watch how the woman’s eyes then flicker to your figure. “making friends without me, my love? how impolite”

miguel shakes his head, his hand quick enough to snake around your waist pulling you close. “of course not, mi vida. this is—“

“not interested. so, you wanna fuck my husband?” your voice coming off venomous, glaring at the woman who seems to be shocked at your question.

a sigh escape from miguel’s mouth, one that implies ‘this is not going to be good’

the woman has her mouth hang wide open as she struggles to respond. she can’t exactly decide whether she’s intimidated by you or attracted to you.

“i—i’m so sorry… I didn’t know he had a wife—“

with a scoff, you roll your eyes. “you’ve been eyeing and talking to my man for at least twenty minutes. you’re saying that your eyesight is so fucking jacked you couldn’t even see the ring on his finger?!”

miguel could only stand there and listening to you scold the woman. because if there’s one thing he learned being with you? is that to not meddle or interrupt.

she shakes her head rapidly, stuttering out a nervous response, “n-no! i—i—I did see it, i j-just thought—“

“oh you did see it!” you exhale a sarcastic laugh. “and what, you think it’s okay to flirt with someone else’s husband when clearly he has no interest?! you really think he’s gonna go for you, sweetheart?”

the tone of your voice is far from polite. miguel could sense that, and he squeezes your waist in attempt for you to take it easy on the girl but you only shrug it off and pay no mind to it.

the woman look like she’s about to cry by how you’re scolding her. shaking quiet a bit and embarrassed that her flirty gesture had failed to steal someone else’s man.

“i’m s-sorry… I’m—i—“

“you” your raise your finger at her face. “need to get the fuck out of my sight before i drag you by the hair and beat your ass hard that no one will ever recognize that pretty face of yours again.”

she nods quickly at that, taking her champagne flute before walking away quickly. you’re still fuming on the inside. glaring at the back of that girl’s head until she’s fully disappears.

“damn, mami” miguel lowly whistles, a dark chuckle follows after as he moves to stand in front of you. hand around your waist still attached, pulling you close to him. “you’re so sexy when you get jealous.”

jealous. you hate that word.

everyone needs to know that you don’t take it lightly when it comes to miguel. he belongs to you and vice versa. and if you have to beat a bitch up to get your point across, then so be it.

“let’s get one thing straight, miguel. I don’t get jealous” You emphasize the word as you turn your focus on Miguel, giving him a stern look. “I get territorial. they need to know that you’re my man. I see a girl trying to take over my territory, then consider her fucking finished. you got that?”

miguel can’t argue with the fact that you just turned him on just by saying that. especially when you come off as demanding like this. It’s one of the reason why he fell in love with you.

bossy. ambitious. confident. and Independent. traits that miguel loves in a woman.

he smirks, looking down at you as he clicks his tongue against his bottom teeth. “yes, ma’am” he replies with a nod.

you nod back, crossing your arms. “good.”

“and just when i thought you couldn’t get any sexier” he shakes his head, squeezing your ass before leaning down a bit to give you a kiss on your cheek. “you do”

rolling your eyes, you lightly shove his shoulder. yet you can’t help but blush at the gesture. “easy there… we’re in public.”

he cocks an eyebrow, palm not leaving your ass. “and when has that ever stopped you before, mi amor?”

you bite your lower lip softly, remembering the times when you and miguel had done it over and over outside the comfort of your home.

yeah, both of you are pretty experimental.

“bathroom in 5. don’t keep me waiting”

[yawnderu]

CW: Prostitution, hardcore sex, anal sex, threesome, creampie. MDNI.

Prettiest girl in Edinburgh, Johnny often called you when discussing his sex life with Simon, drunkenly sharing way too much information about all the things you do with him in exchange for money.

Simon was never an easily influenced man, always able to hold his ground no matter what. Johnny's rants weren't what drove him to Edinburgh, no, it was pure curiosity after seeing pictures on your socials, given to Johnny in an almost unprofessional display of trust.

I can see why Johnny's so obsessed with you. Half-lidded brown eyes are fully focused on the scene in front of him; Johnny's burly arms underneath your knees, hands holding the back of your neck and forcing you to look down at the way he ravages your ass in a full nelson.

The sight of your tight ass being stretched wide open is enough to make him hard, but he told you both he's not joining on it. It's downright disgusting, he tries to convince himself, calloused hand running up and down his almost painfully hard cock, rubbing the slick precum that seems to be leaking out of his tip like a faucet.

“Show the LT how fuckin' wet you are for 'im, bonnie.” Johnny whispers into your ear, slowing down for a second to adjust you on his cock before he keeps slamming his hips into your ass, fucking into your puckered hole harder and deeper.

You barely manage to make eye contact with Simon, half-lidded eyes barely managing to not roll to the back of your head at the lewd sight in front of you. He looks too good— too fucking good not to be yours. Your hands drift down to your leaking cunt, two fingers opening your wet cunt for him to see the juices dripping down freely, wetting Johnny's cock and balls.

He tries to be strong, he truly does, but you're straight out of a porno, pretty cunt glistening while you give him “fuck me” eyes. Simon is a strong man— but he's not that strong. Like a sailor being lured by a siren, your pretty moans call to him, standing up to his full height and walking to the lewd scene in front of him.

His bared hand goes under your chin, forcing you to look up at him as he starts to rub his hard, veiny cock on your folds, gathering some of your wetness, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he begins to sink into you. The sensation of your tight, wet cunt wrapping around his dick sends a surge of pleasure through his body, muscles tensing up as he brings you closer.

“You okay, love?” He whispers into your ear, pulling you back against him and thrusting deeper into you with a more forceful motion once you nod your head. The thin wall separating your cunt and ass lets both men feel each other moving within you, the contrast between Johnny's brutal fucking and Simon's gentle love making being the perfect contrast to make you tighten up around their cocks, arms wrapping around Simon's neck while you bring him closer.

Simon groans deeply as your lips eagerly crash against his, both of his hands now gripping your hips tightly, the wetness and tightness of your pussy enveloping him completely as he holds you in place, thrusting into you with deliberate force.

Johnny's grip on you tightens as he sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming into you with each powerful thrust, brutally fucking your tight, warm ass. The sound of your combined moans and the wet slaps of his hips meeting your ass fills the room, fueling your lust and driving the men further into a dominant frenzy. Simon's grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he fucks into you harder, deeper.

“Fuck.” Johnny groans from behind you, voice strained with need.

“Gonna fuckin' cum inside ye, hen.” His voice is laced with desperation and need, throaty moans leaving his lips as he slams into you. With one final, powerful thrust, he spills himself inside your ass, emptying his balls deep inside you.

So many rules are being broken— not using a condom, letting them cum inside, kissing... even threesomes are forbidden, yet both men are so worth it.

Simon sets a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with full force. His groans mix with your whimpers and moans, creating a symphony of raw desire, feeling Johnny letting go of the hold only to wrap his arms around you, holding you in place while his cock softens inside your ass.

Simon's pace quickens, thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release, bringing you in for another messy, needy kiss to muffle his own moans. He's lost in the moment, fully consumed by the primal need to claim you. As his thrusts become more frenzied, he can feel the familiar coil of pleasure building deep within him.

His hips jerk uncontrollably as he empties his heavy balls deep inside your needy cunt, being milked by you when he feels your orgasm hit you as well, whiny moans spilled into his mouth. He pants heavily, his grip on your hips loosening as he comes down from his intense release.

Both men carefully pull out of you, setting your tired body down in bed before you're being pulled to a hairy chest you're very familiar with— Johnny's. He plants soft kisses on your forehead, tired words of praise leaving his lips in the form of whispers meant only for you to hear. You feel a stronger pair of arms wrapping around you from behind, your flush pressing against Simon's firm chest as he buries his face on your hair, letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion.

He's definitely visiting Edinburgh again, with or without Johnny. Maybe even make a private Instagram account to talk to you, too.