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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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cold nights // part three

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is where it starts to get different (i hope!)

series masterlist // playlist

You saw two deaths in one day, and the games had not even started.

The local girl, who you didn't have the pleasure of learning the name of, had taken her final breaths in the arms of your mentor before he was dragged away. You hoped he was doing okay. And the girl from District Ten, Brandy. She had guts, you had to admire that about her- but killing an innocent was something you struggled to understand.

Coriolanus's classmate was only guilty of a cruel joke, and to you, that didn't warrant violence. However, the misdirected anger from your fellow tributes was valid. You just got lucky with Coryo as your mentor.

You spent your night reaching through the bars to pick weeds and flowers to place with Brandy while she slept. "For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life," repeating in your mind.

"It's my fault... It was my idea to get closer to the tributes but I didn't know this would happen." Coryo says, sat at the dining room table with his cousin and Grandma'am. He was sent home as soon as he was dragged out of the zoo, and he's not sure he had a coherent walk the entire walk home.

"You're just lucky your poet didn't do the same to you. Stay away. District people are a different breed, Coriolanus."

Tigris chews on her lip next to him, her cousin's arm wrapped around her back. "She's not a rebel, grandma'am. She's just a girl."

"No, I can see it in her eyes and the way she carries herself. That one hasn't been a girl in a long time." She shakes her head disapprovingly.

"You haven't met her, she won't hurt me." Coryo insists. "She's far too... gentle, unfortunately. At least Arachne's tribute would have done well in the games."

"It doesn't matter, Coryo." Tigris states. "If that's not who she is we can't force her. What do you think a change like that would do to someone?"

"I just want her to win."

"Dean Highbottom said that she doesn't have to win for you to get the prize."

"I know that." He mutters, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "It's not about..." He stands up, pushing his hair back out of his face. "I have homework to do. Goodnight." And just like that, he's gone.

Come the morning, you were awoken from your slumber next to her no longer bleeding body by peacekeepers barging in with guns- one pointed at every last one of you. You backed away as they grabbed her, careless of her arms which you had delicately crossed, or the flowers you placed in her hair.

You were shackled alongside each other, and then forced back into the truck that delivered you to the zoo so recently.

"Don't be scared..." You whisper to the young girl on the bench next to you, watching as she cried, her pleas for answers going ignored by the others. "The world will be a better place tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Wovey sniffles, looking up at you as you reach up with tethered hands to brush her dark hair back from her face.

"Tomorrow." You nod, smiling at her sadly. You didn't know where you were going, but you doubted it meant anything good. You were supposed to have some more time before the games, but it's not impossible they would be moved in the fallout of the murders. Tomorrow, given your deaths today, would be a safer place for you both.

It wasn't a long ride before the doors were opened and you were all pulled out, and tied to a vehicle while Brandy's body was being hung above you. A parade? This was new, you were sure, you had never heard of such a thing before in the games as they were, although, no one from Twelve had ever returned to tell the story.

You were forced to walk alongside the vehicle as it moved, down an empty street and onto a much more populated one. You wondered if Coriolanus was there, until you reached your destination, and you heard his voice.

You didn't take Coriolanus Snow for a singer, but people shock you every day. There's a screen set up, and you can see him there. He looks uncomfortable, you can see in his eyes that he doesn't want to be there, but by now you've gathered that this is a funeral for his classmate; he likely wasn't given a choice.

You couldn't look at anything else happening around you. If you look at the casket in front of you, or god forbid the body hung above your head, you would burst into tears. This is what the Capitol deemed as justice for the loss of one of their young people- how did they think District people felt every year when their children were torn from them to face an eerily similar fate? The lack of empathy could make you ill. So your eyes remained locked on the blonde boy on the screen until the very end.

Coriolanus couldn't look at you. He knew you were there, all the tributes were. He took one look at you shivering under the metal that encased your wrists on bare skin, and he couldn't look back. You didn't do this to Arachne, you couldn't. Unfortunately, he's certain you wouldn't hurt a fly. To him, it felt unjust to drag you into this.

As soon as he was done and returned to his seat as chief mourner for a girl he didn't even like, he couldn't help but let his gaze track you again. You had tears in your eyes. He could see it even from a distance. You were scared, or you were saddened even by the funeral of a stranger. Your emotions were a mystery to him. You clutched your hands to your chest as you followed the car you were tied to, eyes glued to the ground at your feet as people simultaneously booed at you and cheered at the tribute hanging over your head- and he thought he was humiliated by having to sing. To be a spectacle in the Capitol was to be hated, and it was his job to make sure those same people would know you.

As soon as he was free from his duties at Arachne's funeral, he was headed back to the zoo. It took him all day, and the sun was set by the time he made it. "Y/N." He whispered, unable to see you in the dark as he approached the bars of the monkey cage. "Y/N?"

You had awoken to the footsteps, hearing your name being called in hushed tones as you sat up from where you were lying on the cold ground. You had just managed to fall asleep, Jessup had given you his sweater to use as some form of blanket as you laid your head on his stomach. You missed your bed, but body heat was helpful. You didn't think summer nights were truly this cold.

You got up, following your friend's voice over to the bars that separated you. "Coriolanus." You whisper, trying to smile. "It's late."

"Are you okay?" He asks, grabbing one of the bars in his hand and ignoring the cold burning into his palm.

"I'm just fine." You assure him. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"She wasn't my friend." He whispers back.

"Still. It was hard to watch, anyone with a heart would be hurt by what happened."

He remembers seeing you cry at the funeral, taking a sharp breath in. "Are you cold?" He asks, changing the subject.

"Only slightly." You answer. "Jessup gave me his sweater, and body heat helps."

Coriolanus squints as he looks past you, seeing the form of the boy lying on the ground, rolling onto his side now that you weren't using him as a pillow. "I brought you this." He whispers, holding up an old, torn-up afghan that he slung over the top of his book bag.

"I figured in that... dress thing you must be freezing out here. I couldn't sleep knowing you'd be out here shivering." He explains as you take it, unfolding the knitted material.

"Thank you, that's very considerate." You smile, quick to drape the small blanket over your shoulders. "Did someone make this for you? It's beautiful."

Coriolanus watches you pull it tightly around yourself, already trying to pull any warmth you can from the material. "I... I'm not sure." He says quietly. "It was a gift for my mother, it was meant for my sister."

"Well, tell your sister I say thank you. I'll get it back to you before the games."

"Oh... well, she doesn't need it." He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck to quell the goosebumps forming there. "My mother died in childbirth. Neither of them made it. So now, we've just got this blanket..."

You frown, instinctively loosening your grip on the suddenly delicate material. "I'm so sorry, Coryo. That's awful."

Coryo? The nickname falling from your lips sounds like the spoon that stirs sugar into tea- abrasive for the breakfast table, but still very sweet.

When he doesn't respond, you continue. "The distance that the dead have gone does not at first appear- their coming back seems possible for many an ardent year."

"Why do you talk like that?" He asks suddenly, eager to discuss anything other than the death of his mother.

You smile. "It's from a poem. An ancient one." You explain. "I like to read, it's all I've ever really done. My ma taught me how, gave me all these old, old books with reprints of popular stories from way back when. They just... speak to me. People back then seem to have known it all."

"I've never read anything like that." He replies.

"That surprises me." You answer honestly. "Did you know you're named after a play?" You ask, sitting down now, careful not to let the blanket touch the dirty ground.

"Am I?" He asks, sitting down across from you without thinking much of it.

"Yes." You nod. "I quoted it in my goodbye to the District. I thought that was why you came to see me."

"I had no idea." Coryo says, smile tugging at his lips. "What a coincidence."

"Pray you, who does the wolf love?" You giggle, leaning closer so he can hear you better. "The lamb."

"From?" He asks, unable to resist the urge to smile any longer.

"The Tragedy of Coriolanus."

"Why is it a tragedy?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"Well, it's about this man named Coriolanus, who gets thrust into a position of power he isn't quite suited for. It's all he can think about, he's obsessed with it. He does well, he rescues the city, but his power and pride become his downfall, and he's banished by his own people." You explain.

"Oh. He doesn't regain their favour?"

"He dies at the end, 'cause he's betrayed too many. It's sort of sad."

"Sort of?" Coryo chuckles quietly. "He did so much for his people, is his death not a great loss?"

"His death is meant to be a justice for his actions, but I disagree." You whisper. "I think he was too far gone to be changed, yes, but I think if things had gone differently for him he would have made some better choices."

"Maybe." Coryo agrees. "But with a tragedy, doesn't that mean it was always meant to end that way?"

"People say that." You reply. "But I think the aspect of human nature has been lost in it. I think people can always change. Usually, it's circumstance that changes people into villains, so I think it could change them into heroes too. How do you know so much about tragedies if you've never heard of Shakespeare?"

"There's others, more modern stuff that they teach us here. No one likes to talk about history before Panem." Coryo answers. "But I agree. I think the idea of destiny is embellished, in some ways."

You hum in agreement, looking up at the sky. "There's not as many stars here."

"No?" He asks, taking a break from looking at you to look up as well. He's never known anything different than the very few stars they get, even on a clear night.

"No." You shake your head. "Back home, if you look up at night you couldn't count the stars if you were given a month to do it and a pencil to track it all down. There are thousands."

"Sounds nice." He whispers.

"It is." You agree, voice catching. You'll never go home and see the stars again, this is the best you would get for the rest of your life. You didn't realize the last time you saw the stars light up the sky that you never would again. You wish you had appreciated it more. You let out a shaky breath, deciding to look instead at your lap. There was no use in hurting your feelings anymore.

At the sound of your unsteady exhale, Coryo snaps his eyes back to you. He realizes at just about the same time you did what you were thinking about. "I'm sorry." He says after a few moments of silence, unsure what else he could say.

You just nod, reaching up to wipe your eyes. "I'll just miss it. I didn't realize until now that I won't get to see it again."

"You might." He tries to be encouraging, but the odds of you surviving are slim and he knows that. "I'll do everything I can to help you. I want you to get home."

"You would love it." You say, ignoring his sentiment because you know if you acknowledge it you'll start bawling. "There's a big open field by my house, when I was younger my ma would take us out there with a blanket in the middle of the night and we would lay down and look at the stars."

Coryo is quiet, just nodding as he listens to your story. "Sometimes my cousin and I sit on the roof of our apartment at night. We'll just sit out there and talk for hours, it's the best part of my day when we both get the chance." He tries to relate to you, he really does, but he knows that he could leave whenever he wanted and go sit with Tigris on the roof tonight. You don't have that privilege.

"You live together?" You ask, sniffling.

"Yeah. It's just us and our Grandma'am."

"That sounds nice." You smile sadly. "What's her name?"

"My cousin? Tigris."

"Tigris." You roll the name around in your mouth. "Will you tell me about her?"

"Well, she graduated a couple of years ago. She wants to be a designer, but there's not much of a market for that these days, so she works under someone else. Her boss is just awful to her, but Tigris gives it all she's got. She's got a real talent for it."

You lean forward against the bars as he speaks, resting your forehead on the cold metal and letting your eyes close. "I'm sure she's amazing."

"She is. She took this old shirt of my father's, completely remade it for me to wear to the reaping like nothing had ever been wrong with it in the first place. She even used the tiles in our bathroom to make these tiny buttons for it. It's really impressive. I think one day when I'm president, I'll get her a better job. If she even wants to work. She's been working for as long as I can remember to take care of me, I hope to return the favour one day."

"That's very kind of you." You yawn. "She sounds lovely. I wish I could have the pleasure of meeting her one day."

"If she's free, I'll bring her to say hello." He smiles, noticing you're already half asleep. The urge to reach forward, just a little, and push your hair away from where it has fallen in your face is near impossible to resist. Instead, he keeps talking. "She would love to meet you too, I know it. You are pretty much all we talk about these days."

"Me? Why's that?"

"You're just... unlike anyone I've ever met. Better, I suppose." He whispers. "And you're really important to me. I hope you understand that."

"I don't have to win for you to get your prize, right?" You ask quietly.

"No." He replies. "But I really hope you do. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'd like to see you when you're not a monkey in a cage. As yourself."

You smile, cheeks flushing under the mask of the darkness that surrounds you. "Come, gentle night, come, loving black-browed night, give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars." You whisper, so quietly to yourself he's not even sure he heard every last word, but god, did he long to. Only so many quotes and poems and words of your own would have the gift of leaving your lips. Your words were numbered- and as he could, he would cherish every one.

"What's that from?" He asks, leaning closer.

"Romeo and Juliet." You yawn. "That's my favourite. One day, you should read it."

"I will." He promises. And he'll think the whole time of you.

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #hunger games #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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abbysbasement · 2 years ago

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(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

— PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table.

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends.

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean.

And somehow, despite everything, it worked.

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago.

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!”

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed.

“Not interested, sorry.”

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off.

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit.

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?” She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence.

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay. She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way.

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod.

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns.

“-And, and! I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.”

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one.

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed.

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily.

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest.

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery.

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed.

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house.

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off.

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room.

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs.

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

It’s fun being sardonic sometimes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass. She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well. Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell.

–

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right?

Whatever.

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.”

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely.

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing.

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body.

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in.

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall.

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies.

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum. Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up.

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line.

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it.

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.”

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity.

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin.

You jumped.

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage.

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself.

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.”

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed.

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants.

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands.

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness.

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips.

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots.

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.”

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real.

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly.

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more.

She obliged.

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else.

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection.

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly.

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it.

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold.

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow.

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers.

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it.

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again. You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes.

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone.

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile. Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants.

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips.

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint.

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on.

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming.

Yeah.

#tiki writes #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson ff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby tlou smut #abby smut #abby anderson x female reader

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soul-controller · 1 year ago

Text

Together Forever

As Ryan Sullivan entered his bathroom to have one last look at himself before heading out to a local beach, the 18-year-old and recent high school graduate couldn’t resist smirking upon seeing his own reflection. Standing there in just a pair of swim shorts, the man’s well-defined physique was on full display. Surely with a bod like this, every chick is gonna want their hands all over me, he thought to himself.

Upon pulling his phone from his shorts to take some photos of his progress, the man found a brand new text message from his ex-girlfriend Becca waiting for him. “Hey, I’m outside your house. Please talk to me, I’ll be quick I promise,” the message said, which immediately caused Ryan to chuckle and roll his eyes at the girl’s desperation.

Just over a week ago, Ryan spent an entire night smoking weed with his best friends and thinking about his future. Given the fact that he was just a few months away from moving to the opposite side of the country to go play soccer at a major university, it seemed as though Ryan was being offered the opportunity to get a completely fresh start to his life. No longer would he be an athlete living in a small-town with nothing exciting occurring and practically no attractive women around him. Once he made the move to California, he would be a total hunk living in a big city that would surely keep life interesting (especially with a sudden influx of aspiring models eager to get with him). As such, he quickly realized that being tied down to some high school relationship was a waste of time and a piss-poor decision for his sex life given the long distance that they would have to adapt to. So in his impaired state, Ryan stumbled through his words before eventually sending off a to-the-point and brutal text that broke up his 5-year-long relationship with Becca without a hint of remorse.

For several days since sending that text, Ryan found his phone constantly blowing up with texts and DMs from the shunned woman who begged to have a civil conversation so she could gain closure and they could terminate the relationship like the adults they were on their way to becoming. Although she continually stated that she thought that they would “be together forever”, she wasn’t furious and remained quite level-headed throughout the various messages she sent. But the hunk refused to ever respond to the girl’s messages, instead taking screenshots of the messages and sending them off to his friends while framing the messages as a display of how desperate and pathetic she was. Of course, Ryan’s friends weren’t respectful of the couple’s privacy in the slightest, so they continued to pass along the messages to others until practically everyone in their graduating class knew about the breakup and Becca’s pleas.

In the fallout of the breakup, it wasn’t shocking to discover that drastically different mindsets were formed for each individual involved. While Becca continued to be ridiculed by the jocks and other popular kids that they knew, Ryan was being put on a pedestal as if he had done something noble by breaking them up. The jocks were obviously quite supportive of the breakup, informing Ryan of how “lame” and “awkward” they always thought Becca was while also offering to help be his wingmen to get him laid as soon as possible. In the most puzzling tidbit of all though, it seemed as though many women were on Ryan’s side as well as they reached out to send their regards towards the breakup while also throwing their hat in the ring to be a potential rebound for the man. Throughout the entire experience though, Ryan felt no shame for his actions and didn’t even have a single lingering thought about how Becca was handling everything.

As Ryan rolled his eyes once again upon re-reading the latest message from Becca, the man quickly typed out “fine, make it quick bc i’m heading to the beach” and headed down to the front door. Upon opening it, Ryan took a moment to stare at the girl. Although Becca was quite attractive in her form-fitting crop top that showed off her taut stomach and sizable breasts, the clear sight of runny mascara due to the girl’s crying immediately killed any remaining attraction he felt for the girl. In Ryan’s eyes, signs of weakness in women was the ultimate boner killer for him, so as he moved to the side and allowed the brunette to make her way into the house, he couldn’t help but physically cringe at her as he heard a slight sniffle emerge from her mouth.

Upon shutting the door and turning to face the girl, Ryan immediately crossed his arms as he observed his ex. “So, what do you want to talk about,” he said, his voice completely lacking in any emotion.

As Becca stood there with her head narrowed downwards, the girl’s shaky voice finally began to speak. “I- I’m sorry for this Ryan, I just want to be with you for the rest of my life,” she began, immediately rushing up to the man and trying to grip him.

Despite how off-put he was by Becca’s statement, the man’s stone-faced expression finally began to soften as he felt the woman’s dainty arms reaching around his back. The physical sensation instantly reminded the man of the good times that they had throughout their many years together, especially when it came to the incredible sex that the two of them had. Immediately, the wheels in his head began turning as the concept of passionate makeup sex popped into his head. Thinking that he might be able to continue having some kinky sex with the girl under the guise of getting back together (he was still planning on going to California completely single), the man finally unfolded his arms.

As he moved the meaty limbs around the woman’s dainty frame and tightly squeezed her though, there was the sudden feeling of heat that spread through both of their bodies. Not only that, but as Ryan continued to hold her with his eyes closed, the sensation of pressure against his torso was quite apparent. So to find some answers about what was going on, the man opened his eyes and looked down at his torso. To his complete horror though, a large section of Becca’s body had somehow sunken into his body! Screaming in horror, he tried his best to try and flee, but found that his movements only brought along the female who was still tightly clinging around his muscular frame.

“Becca, get the fuck off of me,” Ryan cried aloud, trying his best to pull the woman’s arms away from around him but finding that the arms were unable to be pulled apart. As he attempted to thrash and escape the horrific entanglement he was a part of, the man soon found himself unable to move as a tightness was suddenly forming in the circle of limbs and body that wrapped around him. In one sudden tug, every inch of the woman’s body was quickly enveloped into Ryan’s body.

For a moment, everything suddenly went black for Ryan. But after a few seconds, Ryan’s vision was quickly regained and the man began to ponder whether he was having some gnarly after-effects from the weed that he had smoked the night prior. Eager to head to the beach and escape the twisted experience he had just fantasized about, the man quickly tried to fish his car keys out of his pocket and begin his journey. But although he could see the living room foyer he was in, it seemed as though the man had somehow lost the ability to move given the fact that his arms refused to reach towards his pockets. What the fuck is going on? Am I tripping somehow, he asked himself, trying to find some semblance of rationale behind what was occurring to him. But quickly, it became clear that something impossible was happening as his mouth and body began to move on its own accord…

* * * * *

“Hehe yes! It really worked!” his body exclaimed, taking a moment to tilt his head downwards and see the gorgeous shirtless torso staring back at him. To Ryan’s shock and disgust, he could watch and feel as his masculine and callused hands began to graze along every inch of his muscular build. As his body was continuously felt up and his muscles were flexed, the body invader couldn’t resist girlishly giggling as both them and Ryan picked up on the sudden rise of the man’s prominent manhood. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Ryan! This is my first time becoming a guy so bear with me,” the voice said with a chuckle, immediately causing the man to realize that Becca was now the one in complete control of his body!

No matter how hard he screamed and begged, Ryan was unable to get his ex’s attention as she eagerly flexed his muscles and tested out her brand new voice.

“Lemme guess Ryan, you’re currently freaking out and begging what’s happening to you right?” she inquired, taking not even a second-long pause before continuing to speak. “Well to put it simply Ryan, you were a goddamn prick that needed to be taught a lesson. Not only did you reject me for no reason, but you spread my messages around and now everyone in town thinks I’m some desperate and pathetic loser! Like, that’s so fucked up of you babe!” she exclaimed, a clear hint of anger in her gruff voice that immediately made Ryan realize the error of his ways. “Luckily for me, I have a friend who’s a witch that offered to help me get some revenge on my heartless dick of a boyfriend. After she cast the spell on me, I was given the ability of possession upon making physical contact with you. All I had to do was squeeze my way in and now I’m suddenly Ryan Sullivan!”

“Don’t worry though babe, we’re gonna be a great team together. With my brains as the class valedictorian and your brawn, we’ll be unstoppable in college,” she continued, beginning to walk down the hallway of the Sullivan residence. Before long, she finally entered Ryan’s bathroom and Ryan was thus treated to the terrifying sight of his reflection moving and speaking without his control. “While we’re going to be a great team, I can’t deny that we’re going to need to make some changes to your life Ryan. You see, while my friend was able to give me your body and other things such as important memories and your innate athletic skill, she was unable to pass along your sexuality and personality to help make me perfectly inhabit your life. So, I hate to say it babe, but I think you’re going to be coming out as a gay man soon. It works out great though that we’ll be heading out to college in a few months though, especially since that means I can be myself and not have to be this angsty and toxic version of Ryan all of the time.”

Upon understanding that Becca was going to completely demolish his life and the image that he had created for himself as this dominant and extremely cocky hunk, the man couldn’t help but scream into the darkest depths of his mind. To him, this was a nightmare come to life! To make matters even worse, it seemed as though there was no way of ever regaining control of his body as Becca made a passing remark while flexing about how the possession was permanent.

For Becca though, the concept of becoming Ryan Sullivan was a dream come true. Although there would surely be a hard learning curve in terms of adapting to having a cock and the near-constant boners she would surely be sporting for the foreseeable future, it was an upgrade in every other way. The Sullivan family was incredibly wealthy, so she would never have to worry about having to work hard in college. Instead, she’ll have all of the free time in college to explore her new body and build more muscle as she turns herself into the hottest gay man on campus. Although it would surely be nice to find a nice and respectful man to spend the rest of her life with, Becca couldn’t deny how happy she was to still have Ryan in her life. In more ways than one, they would now truly be together forever!

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#male transformation #female to male #gender change #possession #sexuality change

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arminsfavoritepookie · 2 years ago

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ROCKSTAR EREN HCS

( How rockstar Eren would be in a relationship with his girl)

- Mentions of explicit smut and lots of fluff

More rockstar Eren hcs

More rockstar Eren hcs pt.3

Rockstar Eren was mysterious to everyone, but to you, he was a man who always knew what he wanted. He was always seeking your presence, needing your touch, and nothing could tear you apart. Your love was a precious gem, one that needed to be guarded with all your might, for you knew that paparazzi and the tabloids were always eager to dig deep into Eren's private life.

You had both agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, enjoying the thrill and excitement of keeping your love hidden from prying eyes. However, being with Eren was like walking on eggshells. Every time he tried to remove your sunglasses that concealed your identity, you couldn't help but worry about your cover being blown.

Your heart would race with every touch, your body trembling with anticipation. You wished that he wouldn't tempt fate so recklessly. Eren's hand wrapped tightly around yours as you walked through the bustling streets. You were lost in a sea of thoughts, and the sound of his footsteps was like a lullaby. The thrill of being with a famous celebrity was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. You couldn't believe that someone as talented as him was by your side.

"What if someone saw us?" you whispered, casting a nervous glance over your shoulder. Eren's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Let them," he replied, a smug grin playing at his lips. "But your reputation-" Eren's grip on your hand tightened.

"That shit doesn’t matter to me" he replied, his eyes holding yours in an unbreakable gaze. Your whole body felt hot, and your heart began to race with anticipation. You couldn't help but be swept away by the moment.

"I think it's time that everyone knows that I've settled down for good." he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. You gazed into his eyes, feeling as if you were about to step off the edge of a cliff. You had no idea what the future held, but you knew that being with him was worth the risk.

"For good?" you asked, your voice trembling. Eren's smile softened, and he took your face in his hands. "Forever,"

Rockstar Eren even in the most public of places, was not afraid to show his love for you. It was almost as if he was drawn to you, his hands constantly on you, tracing patterns on your thighs or tugging on the hem of your dress. His lips would find their way to your neck, and his kisses would send shivers down your spine. It wasn't uncommon for him to do this when the two of you were out to dinner, much to your dismay. The waiters and other diners would watch in shock and awe as he lavished attention on you, completely enthralled by your presence.

"She wants to know if you want red or white," you scolded the rockstar, trying to bring him back to reality. But he was too far gone, completely ignoring your pleas. It was like you were the only two people in the restaurant, and Eren's need for you was reaching its peak. You coughed softly, trying to break through to him. "Red will be fine," you stuttered out, feeling flustered by the intensity of his gaze. The waiter scurried away, leaving you alone with Eren once again.

"Eren, what has gotten into you?" you asked him, frustration lacing your tone. "We're here to have a nice time, not to just... touch each other."

"Can you blame me? Look at you," he replied, his voice low and husky. He leaned in closer to you, his eyes intense.

"You're irresistible."

The feeling of his warm breath against your ear sent a shiver of pleasure through you, despite the anger and frustration you were feeling. You tried to pull away from him, but his grip on you only tightened. "Relax, pretty," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck.

"Let me show you just how much I need you."

Rockstar Eren exudes an aura of toughness and a bad boy image with his impressive tattoos and worldwide reputation. He's not one to be labeled as submissive and hates it when others do. But behind the tough exterior, lies a vulnerable side, one that only you can unlock.

The moment your lips trace his collarbone and you're quickly unclasping the metal of his belt after a show, Eren melts like butter under a hot knife, moaning and whimpering like a lovesick puppy. It's as if you hold some sort of power over him, one that makes him weak in the knees. The intimacy between the two of you is like nothing he's ever experienced before. His hands shake and sweat as they try to hold back from palming the thick bulge in his jeans, all because you told him not to. He's not used to giving up control, but with you, he willingly surrenders every inch of his being.

"You alright there, Ren?" you asked, gazing up at him through fluttering lashes, your eyes innocently wide. You knew the effect you had on him; his once neat and tidy hair now a mess, his forehead covered in sweat as he struggled to maintain control. But you weren't going to make it easy for him. You continued your torturous licks, your tongue swirling around the swollen head of his thick and hard cock, reveling in the taste of him. His breathing quickens and his hands grip the sheets tightly as he struggles to maintain control. You know he wants to let go, to let the pleasure consume him, but he's holding back. That's where you come in - to push him to the edge.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his lips bitten in neediness as he contributed fucking your mouth, every movement deliberate and controlled. You could feel the veins pulsing beneath the skin of his dick, feel the globs of spit that coated him as you moved up and down his girth. "Please," he begged, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tried to control his breathing. But you weren't done yet; you were just getting started. With a soft moan, you took him back into your mouth, taking him as deep as you could go. It was hardcore, intense, and utterly exhilarating.

Your fingers dance along his thighs, eliciting a low growl from Eren's throat. You know he's close - he just needs one final push. As you worked him with your mouth and your hands, you could feel the tension building in him, the heat radiating off of his body as he neared his breaking point. With a final moan, he came hard and fast, filling your mouth with his hot, sticky cum. You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him, the feeling of him against your tongue. When it was all over, he looked down at you with a mix of exhaustion and adoration, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of perfect intimacy.

"You're too good for me," he whispered, his fingers playing with your curls. You smiled, feeling more than a little smug. "I know," you said softly, feeling more confident than ever before. With a final kiss to the tip of his cock, you got up from your knees. you release him from your mouth and crawl up to his side, tracing circles on his chest. "You good, baby?" you ask, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. He nods, a small smile gracing his lips. "Better than good," he says, his voice still laced with arousal. You cuddle up to him, enjoying the afterglow of a job well done.

Rockstar Eren had always been one to feed off the energy in the room. The rush of excitement, adrenaline, and anticipation filled the studio, leaving everyone on the edge of their seats.

But it was your presence that electrified him the most, the mere flicker of light from your smile setting his energy levels soaring. As Eren fiddled with the buttons, knobs, and switches of the soundboard, the sheer amount of options in front of him sometimes felt daunting. However, every time he looked over at you, the challenge of conquering this instrument felt nothing but exhilarating.

You were the Yin to his Yang, complementing his every move. As Eren layered different beats and instrumentals, you ran your soft and delicate fingers over the curves of his scalp, sending a wave of relaxation coursing through his veins. "Damn," Eren breathed, leaning back against the chair. "I could get used to this." His eyes scanned the room, finally coming to rest on you.

"I swear, I'm going to marry you someday."

For a brief moment, a look of shock passed over your face. Eren's words had come as a surprise, but deep down, you couldn't help but feel the same way. A small, fleeting smile crossed Eren's lips as he tried to play it off, but you saw through his act. His attention drifted back to the soundboard, where the familiar glow of the green and red buttons beckoned him once again.

A few moments later, you began to sing along with the tune Eren was producing, adding depth and warmth to the composition. Your voices entwined with each other's to create a soulful melody that tugged at Eren's heartstrings. The intense and almost tangible connection he shared with you sparked something inside him, a flame that refused to flicker, no matter how hard he tried to extinguish it.

Suddenly, you spoke up. "Eren?" you said softly. He looked up at you, his eyes soft and warm. "Hmm?" he hummed. "I want to marry you too," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "Someday."

He gazed at you with so much love in his eyes, and in that moment, Eren knew he never wanted to lose you.

Rockstar Eren looks sexy as fuck when performing. Your gaze was transfixed, drawn inexorably to him as if by some primal force that defied explanation. The crowd around you went wild, but you hardly noticed them. All that existed was Eren, and the heat that emanated from his body as he strummed his guitar with fingers that moved like lightning over the strings.

Your eyes trailed down to his lower abdomen, where a web of intricate tattoos snaked around his hips and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans, which hung low on his hips. You imagined yourself running your hands over the curves and valleys of those tattoos, tracing every detail with your fingers and marveling at the artistry and beauty of each one. But then he looked up, and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes, a piercing green that glowed like emeralds in the bright stage lights, were locked onto yours with a fierce intensity that made your knees tremble and your heart flutter. He was singing, his voice a sultry blend of velvet and steel that stirred something deep within you.

And as he sang, he never took his eyes off you, making you feel like the only person in the world that mattered in that moment. But it wasn't just his voice that entranced you. It was the way he moved - with a liquid grace that flowed through every muscle and sinew, a tantalizing dance that seemed to beg you to join him on the stage and move in time with him. His hair was wild, a mass of dark waves that tumbled down his broad shoulders and framed his chiseled face with an air of casual arrogance that made you weak in the knees.

You imagined running your fingers through that hair, tugging at it just a little as he whispered dirty words in your ear. His fingers were adorned with rings that glinted in the light as he played his guitar with a skill and finesse that was nothing short of hypnotic. And his lips - flushed with the heat of the music and moving to the beat with an erotic allure that made you feel like you were about to combust with desire.

The air was thick with the lingering notes of the last song, as if the music itself was a living, breathing entity. The auditorium was slowly emptying out, but you were rooted to the spot, still caught up in the magic of the night. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a heady mix of adrenaline and euphoria pulsing through your veins. Eren's stage presence had been magnetic, and his every move had been imbued with a raw energy that left you spellbound.

Your feet finally took you backstage, the excitement building within you with each step. Security recognized you instantly and waved you through with a knowing grin. You couldn't wait to see Eren, to bask in the afterglow of his show. You burst into his dressing room, heart in your throat, and there he was - every inch the rockstar you had fallen in love with. He was breathtaking up close, his chiseled features and strong jawline illuminated by the soft glow of the dimmed lighting.

Eren's lips pressed hard against yours, as if he was staking a claim on your lips. You could feel the feral intensity emanating from him as his tongue began exploring every nook and cranny of your mouth. His need was evident, and you could sense it in the way his hands clenched onto your waist, pulling you in even closer to his body. You shivered involuntarily, but it was more from the pleasure of his touch than the cold air that surrounded you.

His lips were rough against yours, the chattering of your teeth the only thing keeping you from biting down on his plump bottom lip. You could taste him in your mouth - the metallic tinge of his saliva mixed with the subtle hint of mint from the gum he had been chewing earlier. His desperation was a drug, and you were completely hooked.

The space between you seemed to be humming with energy as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "You enjoyed the show, didn't you?" His voice was a low growl, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. You shuddered involuntarily as he spoke, unable to do anything but nod in response. He seemed to sense the raw hunger in your eyes, his own dark and dangerous. He didn't waste any time, his hands roaming over your body with an almost needy intensity, tracing the curve of your hips, the arch of your neck.

Every touch was a jolt of pure lust, and you felt your knees buckle slightly as he pressed closer. "I could tell by the way you were looking at me," he murmured, his eyes blazing with emotions. With one fluid movement, he pulled you flush against his chest, his hand wrapped around your neck. You stumbled slightly as you looked at him, your senses completely overwhelmed.

"Let's hurry and get to the hotel, yea?" His words were like a shot of adrenaline straight to your veins, and you could feel the slick building between your thighs. "I don't think I can wait any longer."

He pressed you up against the wall, his hands gripping you tightly, making you gasp with pleasure. "I thought you were taking me to dinner, Ren? What happened to that?" you breathed out, your heart racing. Turning to look at you, Eren’s eyes bore into yours, filled with hunger and wantonness.

"We'll order room service after I've had my fill of you, baby,"

Rockstar Eren navigates his grueling schedule, he only finds solace in one thing: sleeping next to you. The intensity of tour life and endless rehearsals takes a toll on his mind and body, leaving him drained at the end of the day. But as he steps into the hotel room and catches sight of you curled up in his oversized shirt and snuggled under his favorite blanket, he feels a warmth spread throughout his body.

Your soft snores provide the perfect background music to lull him into a state of tranquility. He walks over to you and kneels beside the bed, admiring the way your hair is wrapped up, a testament to your strict hair care regimen. Eren gazes down at you, mesmerized by the way your face glows under the soft moonlight filtering through the drapes.

As he watches you breathe peacefully, he feels his heart fill with a love that he never thought possible. In that moment, he knows that nothing can ever compare to the bliss he feels when he's lying next to you. Suddenly, Eren notices a small drop of drool escape your lips, and he can't help but chuckle softly to himself.

He runs his fingers over the flesh of your lips, taking extra care not to wake you up. Eren revels in the quietude of the moment, his eyes glinting with joy as he drinks in the tranquility of the scene. The weight of Eren's world melts away, as he realizes that the only thing that really matters is right there, snuggled up next to him. For a while, he just kneels there, soaking in your presence and cherishing the stillness of the moment. It's just the two of you, locked in a beautiful bubble that protects you from the frenzied pace of reality.

Eventually, Eren slips under the covers next to you, and your sleeping form molds itself to his embrace, creating a cocoon of warmth that makes Eren's heart feel full. "You know, you really shouldn't be drooling on my shirt like that," he whispers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Fuck off, Jeager”

Rockstar Eren absolutely adores when you sit in his lap and play with his hair. The way your nimble fingers deftly weave intricate braids and knots into his luscious locks, it sends shivers down his spine. And the way his hands rest on the small of your back as he watches you work, it feels so intimate and romantic. Sometimes, Eren's mind just goes blank as he closes his eyes and succumbs to the euphoria of having his hair played with. His body sinks into the cushions as you knead his scalp, fingers moving in slow, hypnotic circles.

He drifts off to a blissful sleep, snoring softly, unaware of the world around him. When it's time for bed, you softly kiss all over his cheeks to wake him up, and he whimpers pitifully, not wanting to let go of you just yet. His voice is hoarse and gravelly from sleep, but he manages to mumble a few words of endearment, telling you how much you mean to him and how he can't imagine life without you. As he struggles to gather his wits, you help him up and lead him to the bathroom, where you take care of his nightly routine. He feels so vulnerable and exposed in your presence, yet it's a vulnerability that he revels in.

He loves how you take care of him, pampering him and spoiling him like a king. Finally, when it's time to retire to bed, Eren clings to you tightly, unwilling to let you go. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much he adores you and how you complete him. He falls asleep with a goofy grin on his face, feeling so loved and cherished. For Eren, you are not just his lover or his friend, you are his everything.

With that being said

Rockstar Eren's love for you knows no bounds. It's evident in the way he spoils you, his heart bursting with happiness every time he hands you his card and watches you indulge in whatever your heart desires. And who could blame him? You make him feel complete, even in the darkest of times. His love for you shines so brightly that he can't resist spoiling you at every opportunity. In his hands, you feel cherished and adored, your every whim and desire met with the utmost care.

His tender touch makes your heart race, his warm embrace melting away any worry or stress you may be feeling. Eren's unwavering affection is a treasure to behold, something you never take for granted. As he kisses your nose and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, you feel the love and gratitude flowing from every pore in your body. The world may be chaotic and unpredictable, but with Eren by your side, everything falls into place. His generosity is not just a reflection of his wealth, but of his devotion to you.

His desire to spoil you was only matched by your willingness to grab his hand and pull the seat down in his car, eager to feel the rough embrace of his body. You always craved his presence and the insatiable sensation that came with riding his cock. As you rode him hard, a bead of sweat formed on your brow, your thighs tightening around him with every thrust. You let out a small whimper, feeling him go deeper and harder inside your warm cunt, your entire body writhing with pleasure. "Can you feel me, Ren?" you asked, your voice a low, throaty whisper as you locked eyes with him.

He replied with a guttural groan, his large hands gripping your hips as he took control of your body. Smashing your hips down to the base of his throbbing cock. You let yourself fall into him, your squelching walls tightening around his thick girth as you moaned in pleasure. He pulled you in closer, and you could feel every inch of him, every crevice, every vein pulsing on his dick.

You gasped as he took you harder, faster, his breathing ragged and erratic. "I can't get enough of you," he said between grunts, his voice deep and husky. His balls smacking the back of your gushing cunt. You felt yourself losing control, surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment. He was your addiction, your pleasure, your everything. And you never wanted it to end.

Rockstar Eren can't stop talking about you. It's like you are constantly on his mind. Whether he's with his trusted tour manager, Levi, discussing the logistics of his next show, or chilling with his buddies Armin and Mikasa, you always find a way to slip into the conversation. Levi has grown used to Eren's distracted musings about all the exotic restaurants and must-try dishes he can't wait to share with you. "Hey Eren, are you even listening?" Levi would interject, trying to bring Eren back to reality. But Eren's mind would drift off to the romantic image of holding your hand while taking you on a culinary adventure.

Armin and Mikasa have gotten used to their friend's fixation with you too. They would listen intently to Eren's elaborate plans to surprise you with gourmet meals from around the world, nodding along and occasionally throwing in a teasing joke or two. In Eren's hands, he cradles his phone, flipping through foodie blogs, checking out new restaurants, and researching different culinary traditions. It's all for you. He wants to make every moment spent together a memorable and romantic experience, filled with unforgettable flavors and delights.

But there's also a sense of urgency to Eren's enthusiasm. He knows that as a rockstar, he has a demanding and unpredictable schedule. Every day brings a new city, a new venue, a new crowd. But no matter where he is or what he's doing, he wants to make sure you feel cherished and adored. "I know we're on the road a lot, but that just means we have more opportunities to explore new shit together," Eren would say, his eyes shining with excitement.

Armin and Mikasa exchange a glance, secretly pleased that their friend has found someone who brings out the best in him. As for Eren, he can't imagine his life without you. You've become his muse, his inspiration, his reason to keep pushing forward. "So, when are you taking her out next?" Armin asks, a playful grin on his face. Eren chuckles, a little embarrassed but mostly thrilled to talk about you. "Soon. Very soon. I've got some new places in mind that I know she'll love."

#aot fanfiction #aot x you #aot angst #aot x reader #eren x black reader fluff #eren x reader #eren jeager #eren headcanons #eren jeager x reader #eren x black fem!reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren x you #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x y/n #eren jaeger #eren jeager x you #eren jeager headcanons #eren x black reader smut #eren yaeger x reader

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lisbeth-kk · 6 months ago

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Sherlock fandom

Open The Damn Door!

Sherlock has never been one for sci-fi movies or tv-shows. This comes as no surprise to anyone who knows the man of course. Until his dying day, I am sure he will claim his abhorrence for Doctor Who and the two Star Wars movies he’s watched with me.

The other day, I had an epiphany of sorts. I couldn’t see Sherlock, but I knew that he was lying on the sofa, fully retreated to his Mind Palace. I know this because of numerous tells, the most evident one at that point, was that he totally ignored my plea for help. I had forgotten my keys when I went out shopping, Mrs. Hudson was on a cruise with Mrs. Turner and the married ones, so there was only Sherlock I had to trust to lock me in. Alas…

When I went out, Sherlock was totally absorbed in an experiment, which consisted of different kinds of gravel and mud. Nothing spectacular at all, almost “normal”. I wondered when I had started to think about having mud samples and all kinds of gravel lying around the kitchen as normal. Probably the day I moved in with the madman.

Anyway, I was banging at the black door to no avail, and that’s how I knew Sherlock was galaxies away. Not literally, mind you, but out of reach. He always came to my rescue the few times I left my keys behind. If he’d been fully alert, he would’ve noticed them, and avoided going to the shower, so he could hear me when I was back.

What I also could deduce from this was that he had not retreated to the bedroom, because that was where my keys were. On the nightstand. Out of reach, just like Sherlock was.

It was in moments like this, I wish I had Doctor Strange’s ability to make a portal, to effortlessly transport me upstairs. Why that doctor came to mind, you ask. Well, I had just watched the movie with Mike’s twelve-year-old daughter, who was obsessed with the girl who played America Chavez. The actress has a very complicated name, I don’t even know how to spell. Becca, Mike’s daughter, was quite fascinated with me and Sherlock for reasons unclear to me, and we liked her as well. She was smart, a bit sassy, and curious about everything. Becca had pleaded with Sherlock to come to the cinema as well, but there was only so much fantasy and sci-fi my beloved detective could digest in one week. We had binge-watched an entire season of Doctor Who lately, and Sherlock’s limit was reached two days prior to my session with Becca.

I tried one last shout: “Open the damn door!”

***

The end of this story; Mycroft took pity on me and sent Anthea round with a spare key. When I finally came upstairs, Sherlock was still galaxies away.

------------------------------------------------

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely

@jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982

@meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony

@lhrinchelsea @missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

#flash fiction friday #sherlock fandom #john watson #sherlock #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #3FFF265 #galaxies away

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unforgettwble-sumii · 2 years ago

Text

SHINING FROM AFAR ੈ✩‧˚ — W.A

(Wednesday x fem!reader 📖)

⭐ You wished she would just look at you, give you all her attention, her affection. You sought for her warmth even if she barely gave you any.

⭐ Warnings‼️: ooc! Wednesday, Asthma attack, and other subjects that may trigger other readers.

—

Wednesday Addams, the girl that currently held your heart in a chokehold. The girl you longed to be with for the longest of times. Unfortunately, the heavens weren't paying attention to your constant pleas. Wednesday had an obscure aura, in contrast to your lucent self. But as they say, opposites attract.

At this point, you have been hanging on to that saying for dear life. A single saying caused your delusions to run wild. You suppose it was her deep intelligence and obscure aura that made you infatuated with her. You weren't one to fall for those with dark demeanors but the young Addams caused your heart to beat with every one of her moves, without her even trying.

The way she spoke, the way she walked, the way she would shamelessly degrade imbeciles who stood in her way, and her eagerness to find a solution to each and every one of her investigations—all of them made you fall for her deeper and deeper as each day went by. And as each day went by, you longed for her to just look at you the way you did.

Falling for someone like her had its ups and downs, mainly being unable to talk to her for more than mere seconds. Wednesday is a very busy girl, and she is usually seen roaming the Academy halls, in her room, or outside investigating. Which means, you can't just talk to her whenever and whatever much you want.

Another thing is not being able to tell how she actually feels. Wednesday is usually seen with a Kubrick stare plastered on her face, showing little to no emotion beside a few tugs of her eyebrows—but that's merely it. That is, unless you were able to somehow delve into her heart without other trivial consequences. Which is, of course, a dream yet to come true.

Wednesday was the moon to you. So easy to observe and to admire, but not so easy to reach and touch.

—

Studying, according to many, was so-called boring. But for you, it was a way to put your mind at ease. Something most people didn't really understand. And so you studied all night, as much as your heart desired. Now, you are currently pondering other things that could cure your desire to do something. It was early in the morning, so any activities that caused too much ruckus were impracticable. So, you opted for something more appropriate for this situation: exploring the academy halls.

It was an early Saturday morning; the birds were chirping and half of the Academy was sound asleep. You on the other hand, was laying on your bed, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. Your dorm mate had gone out last night and was currently sleeping in her boyfriend's dorm on the other side of the Academy. You took this into your advantage to rack your brain for any writing ideas. As well gave in to the opportunity of studying.

Soon after, you quietly tiptoed outside your dorm, hoping to not run into any familiar faces. Thankfully, luck was on your side. The thought of exploring the Academy this early in the morning sent shivers down your spine. The lights were barely on and it was as if there were tall shadowed figures across the halls.

You grabbed your phone and a few other items, then stuffed them into a small backpack that you soon slung over your shoulder. It wasn't like you were going camping, but at this Academy, you wouldn't know what to expect. You were the type to be quite adventurous, so there was a possibility that you were going to explore outside the academy walls as well.

You quietly opened the door to the classroom, and to your surprise, it was "Selvester!", You scolded the cat. Selvester, your beloved cat who also seemed to love to wander the halls, was trapped in one of your professor's classrooms. The cat meowed playfully in response. Selvester was a wise cat and often frightened many due to his black fur and heterochromatic eyes. And was often thought to be "bad luck". But you were far from believing those sayings. Ironically, you considered Selvester as your lucky charm.

As you were walking down the halls, you heard a soft cry coming from a nearby classroom. Normally, people who would come across this situation would slowly back up or move forward. But you were eager to see what could possibly make those noises. Could it be a monster? or could it be a possible trap? the list goes on.

You picked the black cat up and continued walking through the halls. By the time you reached the school gates, the sun was rising. 'A sight to see' for many. Thus, you went on with your exploration. Carefully open the locked gates by inserting a bobby pin into the key hole—a trick you've seen used in the movies but never thought that you'd be able to use until now.

Selvester softly purred, peeking his head out of your backpack. "Shhhh, kitty." You shushed the cat, bringing your attention back to the interiors of the shack. There were canvases with dark and haunting paintings plastered on them. 'This person must be into sombre art', you thought.

You made your way to a nearby forest to continue your journey. In the forest stood tall, dark trees that overshadowed you and Selvester. It was an eerie yet calming walk. You took the chance to scope out the remaining surroundings before you noticed a small shack in the distance. It looked old; parts of the roof were crumbling. It's a miracle that it still stood there.

You opened the rusted doors of the shack with caution, hoping to not draw any attention from possible predators waiting to attack. Going into the forest without a proper guide or a fellow classmate was a risky move. But what can you say? The risk makes the chase even better.

This was definitely owned by a student, since this particular shack wasn't far from campus. A black and blue striped blazer that was hung away in the corner proved your point. Diverting your gaze from the blazer, you took in the details of the painting infront of you. It was clearly unfinished; it was still on its easel.

Carefully stepping into the worn-down shed, keeping an eye out for any items that may pique your interest. The shack was quite untidy—paint brushes scattered on the floor, walls covered in red paint—or at least that's what you hope it was.

The painting had this sort of sense to it—as if it were alive. The unfamiliar creature had revolting red eyes that stiffened anyone who came in contact with them, sharp teeth that could cut a wound so deep, and a disturbing figure that could be recognized even from a mile away.

The lights in the shed flickered, causing you to look up and around. It turns out you weren't alone in the shed. Another student was exploring the forest as well, probably on an investigation.

You struggled to find a reply that wouldn't seem so stupid. You wouldn't want to look like a fool infront of a raven like her. After all, how were you going to tell her that you were out exploring because you had nothing better to do. Clearly Wednesday has heard better replies than that.

Wednesday seemingly appeared out of nowhere to scare the remaining life out of you. "What are you doing here, Y/N?" Wednesday asked, a slight inquisitive tone lasing her voice.

You gave in and sighed; it was no use lying to Wednesday. "I was just out exploring, then I stumbled upon this old shack. I thought that it'd be a great idea to check it out," you admitted, fiddling with the hem of your white sweater.

Wednesday scanned your face, unsure of what to do in this circumstance. You posed the same query to her. It was amusing that you had the same justification, but Wednesday was aware that the shed was nearby. She stated that she was conducting research in an effort to find fresh information.

Just as you thought nothing could ruin this moment, a low growl emerged from one of the bushes. Causing you and Wednesday to look back. Eyes wide, hands slightly shaking, you turned to look at Wednesday, brows furrowed. It seems like she understood your quiet questioning.

In response to her reply, your shoulders relaxed slightly. It was a miracle that the heavens hadn't come to get you with how fast your heart was beating. It never occurred to your mind that you'd be able to hold a conversation with Wednesday for this long. She slightly shook her head, Wednesday's obscure aura seemingly faltering. She quickly regained her posture and her Kubrick stare.

You tried your best to keep up and not fall over, and then you saw it. Eyes bloodshot red, jaw wide open with its canines out. The Hyde had incredible speed. It was so vile that you felt like gagging. You and Wednesday ran for 15 minutes without stopping, praying the Hyde would leave you alone and find something else to prey on.

"The Hyde," she cautiously said. Your mind flickered for a moment, not even processing what she said before she grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the shack. The growl was getting louder and louder. Without a choice, you followed Wednesday's lead. You both darted in a direction away from the 'Hyde', running so fast that you could barely breathe. Your lungs were starting to tighten up, your heart beginning to ache, and your mind fogging up. Did you bring an inhaler?

Wednesday crouched down once she noticed your situation. "What's going on?" Wednesday asked, a really ludicrous question, she thought. Obviously, you were having an asthma attack. She carefully took your bag, looking for anything that might help you in this situation. But seeing as you didn't have an inhaler, she had to think of other things that could possibly calm you and your breathing.

Once Wednesday felt that the coast was clear, you both stopped at a nearby oak tree. You quickly sat down, slumping over the roots, trying to catch your breath. But it was no use. You clenched your chest so hard due to the immense pain you were feeling.

Wednesday wasn't one to feel sorry for other pupils, but since she felt that it was her fault that your asthma flared up, she chose to assist you. which actually wasn't her fault. Yes, it was out of character but, you chose not to mention it. She made you sit in an upright position in order to open your airway. "Follow my breathing," she said sternly, so you did as you were told. Your beautiful eyes were glossed with tears waiting to fall. Her attempts to calm you down were harder than she thought. You kept moving, making it hard for your anxiety to ease.

Wednesday called out to Thing, who was hiding in her jacket. She had asked him to slowly rub between your index finger and thumb. While all this was happening, Selvester sat beside you, nuzzling his head on your arm. Everything was just so blurry; you hadn't realized that Selvester had jumped out of your backpack to comfort you.

After that, you loosened up. But the Hyde's visions continued to trouble you. Wednesday nodded in response to your thanks for her assistance. You may have appeared pitiful, but you didn't mind. "We should go." You nodded, wearily getting up from where you sat and picking Selvester up, to which he reacted with a meow. Thing hopped on Wednesday's shoulder, signing something to her before making his way into one of the pockets in her jacket. You couldn't really make out what he meant—but it didn't really matter.

Wednesday gestured, raven eyes facing yours. It was like a dream—a dream you never wanted to wake up from. In an effort to take advantage of the peaceful calm, you and Wednesday made your way back to the school grounds.

The sun had fully risen by this point, and your friends were likely looking for you. That was the least of your worries, though. As soon as you were in front of the gate, you cautiously crept inside to avoid attracting the notice of any school personnel and risk getting Wednesday and you into trouble.

You were startled out of your reverie by Wednesday's startling noise as she cleared her throat. As soon as you realized you had arrived, you looked up to find your dorm number. Looking across at Wednesday, you smiled a little. Eyes gesturing a thank you. Wednesday said, "I don't understand why you're thanking me, but you're welcome."

You both quickly made your way to Ophelia Hall, where both of your dorms were. Your cheeks began to heat up as your mind continued to race through the recent events that had come your way, but you made an effort to remain composed.

Even though your room and Wednesday's were in the opposite direction from one another and it seemed a little absurd that Thing would emerge from Wednesday's jacket to wave you off, you still thought it was really charming. You smiled sweetly at the appendage and said, "Thank you as well, Thing." Selvester meowed at Wednesday and Thing, making you laugh because it appeared that he didn't want to be left out.

"We should embark on more adventures, Wednesday," you said before entering, to which Wednesday softly responded, "We'll see," and then went away. You close the door to your room, letting your façade fall apart as you scream into a pillow from the euphoria you were experiencing. It appears that the heavens were indeed paying attention to your pleas after all.

— ⭐

Wednesday stood in front of her door, glancing back at yours before muttering, 'Til our next adventure, mi flor.'

a/n:

Hello my sweet dolls, how are you guys doing?

☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ*🎀 ꒱ა

It took me 2 days to finish this one-shot, but since I was feeling particularly ambitious, I was able to publish it. I must admit that I am really pleased with the result, and I sincerely hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. That's all, thankyouu luv u all xoxo!!! ♡ - unforgettwble-sumii

©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

#wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday imagines #wednesday x female reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x fem!reader #jenna ortega

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rey-mp · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write for Tsireya that she takes the strap from Na’vi!reader because she was being a brat

Sweet girl

Bratty!Tsireya x Na'vi!Reader

summary: Tsireya just couldn't accept the fact you said no.

warnings: smut, aged up Tsireya, SLIGHT lo'ak slander, this is ass since I wrote it with writers block, grammar and spelling mistakes, strap on sex, edging (kinda brief)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: omfg this was long overdue I'm so sorry it took so long 😞

You were planning this since last week, you promised Tsireya you'd take her to the small island you found. You told her how beautiful it was, she was eager to see it.

But unfortunately, the day you were supposed to take her your mother gave you unexpected chores. Despite your protests and attempts to persuade her to let you go with Tsireya, She didn't listen to your pleas or arguments. She instead sent you on your way.

Now, that lead you here, facing a disappointed Tsireya.

She whined, looking at you with pleading eyes, "But Y/N, you promised!" You sighed, all you could do was give her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Reya, but my mom told me to do it now," you hoped she would understand. She whined again, her hands tugging on yours attempting to pull you to the shore.

"Can't we just go later?" You sighed, your voice had a tinge of guilt, "You know we can't, Reya. Your parents would murder me." You didn't want to risk going out so late, you feared her parent's wrath. Her disappointment was clear as she frowned.

"Can't you just make someone else do it?" She huffed, her frustration clear, "You know I can't do that." She pouted again, "Please?" She gave you those eyes. The ones that made you'd anything for her, the ones that always made you give in, the ones that you fell for her. But you refused to give in to her again. "I'm sorry, Reya, I can't," She pursed her lips, She muttered, "Fine." and stormed off. "Reya- wait!" She didn't listen.

You noticed Tsireya in the distance while you were picking up the food your mother sent you to get. The sudden idea to talk to her came to mind, seeing a glimpse of her made you smile. But your smile soon disappeared when you saw who she was with. Instead of that fluttery feeling in your stomach it was replaced with a sense of discomfort. It was Lo'ak, the new boy.

You don't have anything against Lo'ak, even though he's caused some trouble he's a nice guy. Even then you kept your distance from him. There was just something about him that threw you off. Well, maybe it could be the obvious crush he has on Tsireya and how everyone could tell.

That's what really got under your skin. Even if Tsireya was taken by you, he always gave her subtle looks in her way. Not to mention those compliments he'd give her almost on a daily basis. Obviously, you couldn't help the jealous feeling whenever it happens.

And it didn't help the fact Tsireya knew. Of course she knows, he isn't exactly as subtle as he thinks he is. You talked to her about Lo'aks obvious crush on her, but she always dismisses it. She Insisted that he was just a nice guy.

Unfortunately, Tsireya was using his crush on her as a way to piss you off. You couldn't help but have a tighter grip on the small basket in your hands. You watch them sitting on the sand, the blue and clear ocean right beside them. Tsireya was teaching Lo'ak how to breath longer underwater, to others it seemed like friendly lessons, but to you Tsireya was clearly making you jealous. She kept on glancing in your direction, seemingly trying to be as subtle as she can.

As you stood there, a feeling started to form within you. With a clenched jaw you tried to keep your composure. Your gaze was fixed on the two of them. The feeling of jealousy started bubble up inside you. You watched as she reaches her hand out and places it on his chest, her hand every so gently slowly going down until it stopped right above his nave. Lo'ak's breathing became faster, his tail that was once relaxed twitched behind him.

Your eyes met hers, you saw the challenge in them, she was daring you to do something, to break and give in. You obviously refused again.

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. You harden your gaze at the girl, she only pouted and looked away. The slight irritation made you huff. You'll just have to talk with her later.

The sky slowly got darker as the day was coming to an end, the sky becoming a gorgeous shade of orange. You were so busy all day, but now you're finally free which means you can finally deal with Tsireya.

You looked for Tsireya in the village, you looked for her familiar figure. After a few minutes you found her, she was standing close with Lo'ak. She laughed at something he said, the jealous surged through you at the sight.

As you walked towards Tsireya and Lo'ak, Your pissed off behavior was obvious to others. The people you passed gave you concerned looks. You couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy and possessiveness off of you.

Finally, you reached Tsireya. You felt a sense of relief, you were finally with her. You wrapped your arm around her, holding tightly as you look at Lo'ak directly in his eyes. The sense of tension was in the air, you held her close, the feeling of possessiveness making you want to keep her closer.

Tsireya couldn't help the feeling of arousal in her, she could never admit it, but she always found it attractive when you were possessive. The way you always got defensive made her find you cute.

With a tiny hint of irritation you asked, "Reya why don't I take you home? We haven't spent time together all day." You knew you wanted to be with her alone. She looked at you for a moment before agreeing. You two left Lo'ak alone, she waved him goodbye over her shoulder.

The walk to your home was silent. The entire time you still felt the strong sense of jealousy. Your arm, that was around her shoulder, was now locked onto her hand.

The moment you were in private, the sound of the outside became muffled, quieter. You let go of her, you sighed before turning to her. "Seriously? Make me jealous?"

She crossed her arms and refused to look you in the eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about." You sighed again. Your jealousy was getting the best of you. Tsireya gasped at the sudden feeling of your hand gripping on her jaw, forcing her to look at you.

"You know I hate it when you act like a brat." She stayed quiet, biting her bottom lip knowing what was to come for her. "Get on all fours." She let out the tiniest whimper before nodding. You went across the room and moved a few things away before getting your strap. Tsireya could only watch with pure arousal as you finally come to her.

She watched over her shoulder, how you removed her clothing, a soft moan came out of her lips as you teased her entrance. You took your sweet time teasing her, it was driving her crazy.

She bucked her hips back with a whine, "Please," she pleaded quietly. You ran your hand up her back, sending shivers down her skin. Suddenly, she gasped at the sudden pleasurable sensation of you deep inside her.

Tsireya couldn't control her moans, not when you didn't give her time to adjust. With a tight grip on her hips, you fucked her harder by the second. She tried her best to keep quiet, biting her lip hoping it could muffle her moans.

She truly is a beautiful sight, her panting form, her arched back, her struggling to keep up with you. "My pretty girl," A low moan from the girl came in response, "I bet you enjoyed that little show you put up, making me jealous with that fucking forest boy." It came out as a growl, the memory making your blood boil.

You scoffed, you tighten your grip on her hips. You were sure it would bruise. With certain thrust you had her rolling her eyes to the back of her head. You hummed in pleasure, making sure to thrust into that exact spot. "R-Right there! Oh-" she was a babbling mess, it's adorable. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," she was close, the way she clenched around you told you enough.

The moment she was about to come you stopped moving. She gasped, her one teary eyes now full on crying. "Please," ignoring her please you caress the small of her back. She was sensitive, your touch made her back arch. Another plead came from her soft lips. She attempted to grind on your strap, but she couldn't move, not with the way you were holding her hips.

"Let me cum please." She whispered, you were thrusting to far slow. "I don't know Reya, after that little show you put up I don't think you deserve it." At this point she was getting desperate. You've been teasing her for what felt hours. "Please, I won't flirt with him again! I won't even talk to him ever I promise!" At her desperate begging you let out a little laugh in satisfaction.

She was so easy.

"Just please let me cum-" She moaned in relief, you were finally fucking her the way wants. She was loud, you weren't sure if others could hear her. But truthfully you couldn't care. A few hard thrust, and she was trembling, "I-I'm gonna cum, please can I cum?" You couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows. She was already this close?

"Already?" You teased, Tsireya groaned, she was so close. "Please!" She practically cried out. Finally, you gave permission, moaning out your name she came. Her body trembled, her hands now fists, her hair was a mess, but she couldn't care less.

Tsireya flinched, you started moving again. She looked back at you in confusion, you laughed. "Sweetheart, you really think im done?" Her eyes widen, she was in for a long night.

#tsireya x reader #tsireya x you #tsireya smut #aged up tsireya #reys stuff

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machiot · 5 months ago

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@egittae sent:

It wasn’t always that Lambert got to see Marni, much less actually talk to her. The girl seemed quite adamant in not coming to class and always seemed busy in one way or another despite the professor’s pleas, but in the end he wouldn’t force anyone to attend his lessons. After all it wasn’t as if the Ashen Wolves were an actual class with an actual academic program- it was just their group and nothing more.

However, he had to admit that he often thought about her. All abyssinians had their reasons as to why they chose to hide from the world and that definitely included Marni, but the professor could only wonder how a girl so young ended up like that. He wouldn’t pry, but he did, genuinely, want to reach out. Or try to.

This was his best chance, at least. “Good to see you, Marni. Your performance in the game was quite impressive, you did extremely well!” Even if they were from another team, he did have to admit that seeing Marni and Lyon in the top positions brought a smile to his face. “Even if we belong to rival teams- and even if you refuse to come to class…in the end I still view you as my student. And as a result, your victories and your progress bring me much joy.”

“Great job, Marni. I am proud of you for being able to come this far into the games.”

With blond hair and light blue eyes, a casual observer might look between the two of them and imagine some sort of kinship. Father and daughter. Uncle and niece. Maybe even distant cousins with a generation gap between them.

Ironically, that same passing resemblance is the very reason Marni feels like she's on pins and needles every time he talks to her.

His appearance dredges up unpleasant feelings that she'd rather tamp down. No, rather than feelings, what she wants to tamp down are memories. Memories of useless brothers and a mother who only ever held her hand once, all blond haired and blue eyed.

(Her other family was better precisely because they didn't look like her at all.)

"'Come this far'? What, did you think I was some pathetic little weakling?" Marni furrows her brow and rests her hands on her hips. Is this guy looking down on her? Like she's some loser? "Of course I made it this far! It's because I'm stronger than everyone else that no one can even touch me! I won both last week and this week, so I'm totally gonna win next week, too!"

What happened the first week was only a fluke! If that stupid dragon hadn't been there, she would've swept that game without even breaking a sweat. It was bad luck, that's all.

...If it had just been anyone else.

Marni shakes her head, sending her ringlets bouncing, "Keep piling on the praise, but you're still not getting me to go to class! I'm not taking classes from someone worse at games than me!"

#toahappyland2024 #egittae #🎀 ic #🎀 support: lambert #//sorry sir on the “blond haired/blue eyed” and “is a man” debuff wombo combo

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darkstar225 · 1 year ago

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Twice's 10th member goes missing!

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that my friend Queens_Angles who gave me this idea on Wattpad likes it! :)

The request: Can u do where the 10th member goes missing and everyone is looking for her but she never shows up and everyone thinks she dead but she shows up and everyone happy

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The K-pop industry was in a state of shock and chaos. Y/N, the youngest member of TWICE, had gone missing. It had been three days since anyone had seen or heard from her, and panic had gripped the hearts of her fellow group members and fans around the world.

Jihyo, the leader of TWICE and Y/N's mama, had called an emergency meeting with the group's management team, and they were gathered in a dimly lit conference room, their faces etched with worry.

Jihyo - We need to find my kid!

Jihyo said firmly but her voice kept trembling with anxiety.

Jihyo - We've contacted everyone we can think of, but there's been no sign of her.

Nayeon, Momo, Sana, Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu, the other members of TWICE, nodded in agreement. They had been frantically reaching out to Y/N's friends, acquaintances, and anyone who might have had a clue about her whereabouts, but the leads had all been dead ends.

The news of TWICE's honey's disappearance had spread like wildfire, and the entire K-pop industry had assembled together to search for her. Celebrities, fans, and even rival groups had joined the effort, sharing Y/N's photos and information on social media, hoping for any leads.

As days turned into nights, the members of TWICE took turns crying and comforting each other. They had become more than just a group, they were a family, and the thought of losing one of their own was unbearable.

Sana, known for her bright and cheerful personality, had been particularly devastated. She had formed a special bond with the maknae, often referring to her as her baby within the group. Sana's usually radiant smile had faded, replaced by a deep sadness.

Meanwhile, fans around the world held vigils, lit candles, and prayed for Y/N's safe return. The hashtag #FindY/N had trended on Twitter for days, with fans pouring their hearts out in desperate pleas for her to come back.

On the third night of the girl's disappearance, the members of TWICE gathered in their shared dorm, unable to sleep. They sat huddled together on the living room couch, their faces pale and drawn.

Jihyo - We can't give up hope, our child is strong, and she's smart. She wouldn't just disappear like this without a reason! *trembling voice and pouting lips*

Nayeon - She must be scared and confused. We have to believe that she's out there, somewhere, waiting for us to find her. *nodding*

The others nodded in agreement, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavily in the air.

The following morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, a knock on the door startled all the TWICE unnies. Jihyo was the first to reach the door, her heart racing with hope and fear.

She opened the door to find a dishevelled and exhausted Y/N standing in the hallway. Her clothes were rumpled, and her eyes were red from crying. The sight of her brought a flood of emotions, and Jihyo couldn't hold back her tears as she embraced her babygirl tightly.

Jihyo - My baby, you're safe!

Jihyo cried with her voice choked with relief.

The rest of the members rushed to the door, their eyes widening in shock and joy as they saw their youngest standing there. They swarmed around her, hugging her, and bombarding her with questions. Such as:

Where have you been?

Are you okay?

We were so worried!

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she tried to speak.

Y/N - I'm so sorry, unnies... I didn't mean to worry you all.

Jihyo gently wiped away her lovely girl's tears.

Jihyo - It's okay, honey. Mama's here. We're just glad you're back!

Y/N took a deep breath and began to explain. She had been dealing with personal issues that had overwhelmed her, and she had needed some time alone to sort things out. She had gone to a remote cabin in the mountains, away from the chaos of the city.

Y/N - I didn't mean to cause all of this, I just needed some space to think... *pouts with a trembling voice*

Sana, who had been standing nearby, stepped forward and embraced her baby tightly.

Sana - You scared us half to death, love. *voice shaking with (lots of) emotion*

Y/N clung to her Shiba unnie, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Y/N - I'm so sorry, Shasha unnie. I didn't want to hurt any of you. I love you unnies so much! *sobbing*

The other members joined in the hug, surrounding their maknae with their love and support. They had feared the worst, and their sunshine's safe return felt like a miracle.

The news of Y/N's return spread quickly through social media, and the hashtag #Y/NIsSafeNow trended worldwide. Fans rejoiced, and messages of relief and gratitude poured in from all corners of the globe.

Over the next few days, the members of TWICE and Y/N took some time to heal and reconnect. They shared their feelings, their fears, and their love for each other. Y/N apologized profusely for causing so much worry, but the members reassured her that what mattered most was her safety and well-being.

As they sat together in their dorm, they knew that they had come through a severe ordeal stronger than ever. The bonds of friendship and sisterhood that held them together had been tested, and they had emerged with an even deeper appreciation for each other.

Y/N's return marked a new beginning for TWICE, a reminder that they were not just a group of talented idols but a family who would always be there for each other, no matter what challenges they faced in their journey through the world of K-pop. And this made them all share the same thought:

We love our dear chosen family.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

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365runesoftheamalgamations · 2 years ago

Text

The Not Yet Forgotten Introduction

hello and how are you?

This has been far too long since we have been active and we've wanted to get back into the flow of things! And we believe it is time for a Reintroduction! So, without further ado,

A Proper Introduction

Welcome to the Writing Blog! We are the Not Yet Dead Authors, the Natsume Rune! You may refer to us as Natsume as a whole, or say hi to any of the specifics who run the blog/do the writes! Our pronouns are we/they, and we are an aromantic/asexual genderfluid cluster of whispers drowning in the Void for more than two decades. So just another set of Wanderers who wish to reach out and touch the Worlds in a more pronounced way!

Full Writeblr Introduction under the cut!

Getting To Know Us

We are most comfortable writing and conversing in italics! It just feels like it speaks with our souls, so please be aware that most of the posts and such will be within that realm of writing.

Our most comfortable sense of writing is in third person present tense! We also write in first person (sometimes) and second person (rarely) but our comfort lies in others and their present.

We write mostly fantasy but also dabble in horror, science fiction, dystopian and other works and writing styles. We do hold our own universe, the Storyverse, that we will hint, note, and talk about, depending on things, as well as a multitude of Worlds that will be given over to the Stories happening within in. Hardcore about both worldbuilding and storytelling, so we will probably have a lot to say about both the Worlds and Stories that come with our hyperfixations.

Our writing forms include: fanfiction, short stories, drabbles, flash fiction, novels, poems, and role playing! We enjoy rolling through forms and trying out different ways of telling and sharing stories, so please note that there will be a lot of everything on here.

We follow from the System's Blog, @365runesofthesystem, and will try to be really active in the community, so if you see us around, then feel free to indulge us! We love to be tagged in games and sent asks and the like and will try to get to all of them in due time. [ yes, we do hoard Tag Games, shut the fuck up about it. ]

If there is anything else anyone would like to know, do not hesitate to ask or message us! But be aware that we are not afraid to deal with anything impolite or inappropriate, we have a zero tolerance standard and we will keep it without hesitation.

The Amalgamations of our Creations

We have a lot - and yes, we mean a fuck ton - of Works and Stories that we want to tell at some point in our lives, so this list will definitely grow and expand and shift as we go through our journey.

If you want a full list of all of our Works, check our both our Original Works Masterlist and our Fanworks Masterlist!

All Links to WIP Pages and Intro Posts will be added as we get things sorted and settled!

But here are a few of our more pronounced Works, [ yes, they can and will probably shift and change. No they are not in any particular order, we hate figuring out orders. ]

Grayland's Shadow

Original Work | Fiction, Low Fantasy, Horror Elements First, Second, Third Person | Second Drafts

Ecstasy. The screaming, the struggling, the pleas for mercy, he loved them all. He loved the way they always seemed to think that he would set them free. That, if they were good and tried hard enough, he would just let them live, bleeding and knowing. As if he would ever let anyone go. He never did. He never wasted an opportunity either. So when a girl, around her way into adulthood, sat down next to him on the bench that day, he had no intention of letting her go. None.

Constellations By Orion

Original Work | Fiction, High Fantasy, Action and Adventure Third Person Present Tense | Scene Drafting/Worldbuilding

Orion is the first one she goes for, as he always points North. "I am just saying, your little stowaway is pretty cute." "I don't need a man Orion, I need directions across the sea." "Trust me, if you want a purpose, you should find Ursa Major. She's the guide of adventure, new life." "And where can I find her?" "At the heart of the ocean. She is the Guardian of Polaris and her baby, Ursa Minor."

The Queen & The Heir

Short Story | Fiction, High Fantasy, Medival Third Person Present Tense | Scene Drafting/Prompt Response

She hates herself for hesitating. She stares at the note, gentle cream instead of stark white in order to hold the same connotations of the maid notes that she, and more importantly he, was accustomed to seeing. She glances at the Guard, barely catches the door closing completely, locking her in with the words that would prove herself justified. Or truly and quietly mad.

The Rapunzel Witch

Short Stories | Fiction, High Fantasy, Fairytale Retellings, LGBTQIA+ Third Person Present Tense | Chapter/Scene Drafting

Vibrant and sharp, it is another small check to his identity; the Queen is staring at him, though instead of the hard determination of a leader, he stands before the soft gentleness of a person unused to such direct contact. Something shifts in those eyes; the Royal Majesty frowns more before he lets his eyes drop to the ground between them. “Well, that’s that then, isn’t it?” The Knight feels a soft pang; he almost takes a step forward, hand twitching at his side before the Royal spins around and walks away from him. “Your obligations are fulfilled; the Rapunzel Witch lives.”

The Plague Begins With Me

Original Work | Dystopian, Horror Third Person Present Tense | Scene Drafting

Lost to the devastation of the Plague and destroyed by the aftermath of Humanity’s Fall, the World of Zeomia holds nothing but the dystopian devastation of disease and decay. Shouldering a responsibility that no one else is allowed to know, Zero tries to give mercy to those who have fallen from her own twisted fate.

Main Tags of the Blog

rune ⊹ writings | general writing tag rune ⊹ works in progress | where you can find all of our works rune ⊹ wanderlust | general tag for other blogs rune ⊹ nonsense | fun and silly things outside of the writings/writeblr rune ⊹ beloved | general tag for the mutuals of the writeblr rune ⊹ asks | tag for answering asks and anything from the inbox rune ⊹ authors | writing updates and softer thoughts of us rune ⊹ background noise | anything to do with the blog

#rune ⊹ authors #writeblr #writing community #writeblr intro #creative writing #tumblr writers #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity

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stxrrbright · 5 months ago

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🔁 how about a drabble for Lena

Playlist Drabble Little Girl Gone

I tagged triggers below, but just brace for overall mafia business ^^;; Not super detailed!

--------

There was no reason for the room to be so dimly lit... Honestly, with the sun still out (barely setting over the sea's horizon), there was no reason the entire house to be this poorly lit! Lights were replaced with the soft glow of candle fire, and silence hung in the air like a blade ready to drop on the guilty. No one can be found in the halls; either they were sent away or they were really good hiding in the shadows. This created a stark difference of the estate's usual bustling atmosphere-- just the way the Don liked it during the wee hours of execution days.

In the underbelly of the estate, where stone walls cage the screams of those who dare cross the Menagerie, a trio of well dressed family members stared down their prey. A man of muscular build was left bloodied and bruised whilst bound in chains.

"We should put you down like the dog you are." One of the men in a full lion's mask huffed as he stepped forward. He only stopped when the woman next to him put her hand over his shoulder. They watched as the man bared his teeth to them and snarled in an attempt to keep them at bay... Was this meant to scare them?

"What are my crimes?!" he shouts with a bit of desperation hidden in his voice. If the trio's hearing weren't as keen as it was, they'd probably miss it, but what his voice masks doesn't hide the fear in his eyes. He thrashes against his bindings; only allowed to got so far before the chain's mechanism yanks him back hard. As he laid on the stones, the other woman stepped forward to grab his hair- her mask a simple swan, and she grabbed a fistful of the man's hair to slam his head onto the floor one time.

"Your crimes are as follows," she yanks his head up to coax the rest of his body to sit up, "Disloyalty to the family, theft, cut and selling of family product, selling out old Lynx, and... Starting that fire in the North district." The man fumbles over his words after hearing what he was accused of. Lion, Swan, and Moretta- the woman who stopped Lion, stared at him silently. One thing you don't really mess with the family was territory, and the North district was the Menagerie's.

Moretta snapped her fingers, prompting Swan to brandish a blade. Before she could make the strike, the man shouted a name:

"ADELENA! That brat had the entire undercity under her thumb!! I had to set the place on fire! She took everything from me when she ran away! My family name, my dignity, my honor! When I heard she was there... I had to!! That little--"

"Bitch?" Moretta held her mask to finally speak. She fully took her mask off to hand it to Lion before she walked slowly towards the man she used to know. She snapped her fingers to have Swan back off, and she took her place to hold his face in her hands harshly. The recognition that Moretta, the new Don of the Menagerie, was Adelena... His old slave girl.

"You're just as pathetic as I remember you, Master Reld... Always playing the victim of 'bad help' to manipulate your standings. But I must remind you: you've had me in too many ways growing up, and I simply just grew tired of being your little toy," Lena patted his back placing a piece of paper on his back before she reached over to uncuff his wrists from their chains, "I'll give you a head start."

Lena snapped her fingers again to have Swan and Lion follow her out the wrought iron doors, knowing well that Reld wouldn't move after them in his stunned surprise. By the time they rounded the corner to head up the stairs, they heard Reld run after them. One last snap of her fingers, and Reld's body went up in flames.

His screams were pained, as they should have been, and his sudden pleas for mercy felt of deaf ears as Lena watched him burn.

"It's such a sad shame I'm not as forgiving as I was back then... Isn't it?"

#the 'feminine rage' portion of my playlist lol #.inbox #Lena answers !!#tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: burning #ill give you a head start is what Reld often said to Lena before punishments #.unnamed mafia verse

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guilty-pleasures-and-dead-doves · 8 months ago

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[Free Wolf, She-Wolf] Chapter 13

Chapters post

Chapter 12: When the company's away, the girls will play

[Chapter 13] The father, the son, and...

To his relief, Bison didn't run into anyone else from Penguin Logistics on his way out of the building.

Behind the scenes, the Emperor kept appraised of the situation through Yith. So informed, the beast-lord then issued Croissant and Exusiai new orders: Tail their friends' Prince Charming while keeping out of sight, at least until he hooked up with his own people. Make sure nothing else untoward happened to him tonight.

Fortunately for his unseen guardians, Bison didn't feel like mounting back up on the bicycle. He simply rolled it beside him as he walked, in no hurry to get anywhere.

They immediately noticed his missing jacket, and the numerous hickeys and love-bites exposed by its absence. The Emperor had strictly forbade them from trying to contact Texas and Sora, so Bison's stalkers had to settle for whispering furiously to each other through their terminals, speculating with scandalized glee.

Blissfully unaware, Bison eventually arrived at a public park he'd vaguely known to be in that direction. He located an unoccupied area with good illumination, picked a bench, and took a seat.

He sat there for a while, admiring the city's nightscape, regretting the lack of stars in the sky.

Eventually, he pulled out his pocket-terminal and called a number saved to his Favorites but — not for lack of affection or respect — far from the top of the list.

After all, his father was an extremely busy man, and Bison usually had no trouble reaching him through his various servants when necessary.

Within three rings, Eurill Pides answered, not obviously panicked but clearly worried. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

His son smiled. "I'm fine, Dad. I'm safe."

"I'll be the judge of that. What happened?"

Bison opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

"Bison? Bison?"

"Can you come pick me up, Dad? I'm at the park by the Emperor's headquarters."

"I'm on my way." Bison heard clattering and rushing sounds in the background. "Stay on this call, stay right there, stay safe, I'll be there immediately. Did that damn penguin do something to you? I'll kill him."

"You can't kill him."

"I can't make him stay dead, but I can make him hurt enough that he wished he did. Where's Butler, why isn't he with you?"

"Butler's fine, I chose to go on my own. We got separated on the road to Penguin Logistics. He thinks the goons who shot out our tires were working for that one family."

"They're dead," his father declared, but Bison knew his father didn't mean it. Not literally, anyway.

"Keep talking to me, Son," his father said, spoken like a command, heartfelt like a plea.

"I miss Mom."

"So do I, Son," his father rasped. "So do I." His voice took on an affected note of encouraging, hopeful suggestion: "We should go see her again, soon."

"Yeah, I'd like that. I may have some things to ask her."

"Like what?"

Would she be proud of me? Are you proud of me? Will I ever feel like I'm good enough?

"Does she know how to tie cherry-stems with her tongue?"

"… … …What?"

====

She did, actually. But Eurill's train of thoughts regarding his son's wellbeing was not prepared to be jackknifed by the train of remembering the things his wife could do with her tongue. Especially as that second train had been sent unwittingly by the woman's own son.

But Eurill decided to spare them both that explanation.

====

It was a considerably calmer Eurill Pides who entered the park, nevertheless marching rapidly forward. His servants raced ahead and around, ensuring the area was secure.

His son walked leisurely forward to meet him, handing the bicycle off to one of the servants with a word of thanks. He kept the shield.

Eurill went down to one knee and caught his boy up into a deep hug, squeezing away the last of his own anxiety, before he held his son out at arms' length to look him over.

"I know they have good taste, because they did a real number on you."

"Ha, ha," his little man said with the mildest sarcasm, before leading the way back to the family car. "They ate me like starving beasts." What marks business-clothing couldn't cover for the next day's meetings, he would need to hide with make-up. He hated wearing make-up.

"And it really was just those two? The two lupos?"

"It certainly wasn't Exusiai and Mostima. Croissant neither."

"Her loss," Eurill said with some regret, stepping through the car-door a servant opened. Living for so long away from Minos, he would have preferred to welcome a fellow country-woman into the family.

"I'm surprised as well," Bison said, likewise getting into the car. "But can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course!"

"I'm happier it's Texas and Sora. I'm not sure I could live with Croissant."

"That's a pity, but I trust your judgment."

Bison turned to look at his father. "You speak like I've already agreed to this."

Eurill gave him a look of surprise. "You haven't?"

Bison gave him the same look. "You think I should?"

"I'm impressed that you didn't accept right away. It's always better to sleep on a big decision, if you have the time."

Bison pressed the point: "But you think I should?"

Eurill shifted in his seat, expression uncomfortable. "I'll admit that if I were in your shoes, I also wouldn't have turned the idea down out of hand. But I'm not in your shoes; it's not my decision. Tell me what you think."

Bison brought both hands to his head, scratching his scalp both as a gesture of frustration and as self-soothing stimulation. "It doesn't feel like the right time. I've barely gotten started on establishing trade routes between New Volsinii and the rest of the world, and I'm still putting out fires with New Siesta. More Columbian interests are coming around, but there are still angry hold-outs, especially in the government."

Eurill nodded. "I understand. It's daunting to think about trying to start a family when the immediate future seems so uncertain, isn't it?"

"Exactly!" Bison exclaimed in relief. "I'm afraid I'd either never be home, or I wouldn't have enough time to keep juggling all of the balls."

Eurill nodded. "It's a valid concern. It's possible I wouldn't have gotten Mountain Dash Logistics as far as I have, if I could have come home to your mother every day."

The following silence stretched long enough that the driver started to sweat.

Neither father or son dared to look at each other, afraid of what they'd see, afraid of what they'd show. Only the driver, daring a glance back in the rear view mirror, could see the naked pain on their faces.

Eurill found his next words heavier than the weights he lifted everyday. "I would rather have had your mother."

Bison drew a ragged breath. But when he didn't say anything, Eurill forged ahead.

"I'm not trying to to talk you into this, but I do want to keep you from making up excuses. It's your decision; I just want to share my experience.

"There are better and worse times to do things, and you can make educated guesses about when those are. But unless you learn how to see the future, you'll never really know. I have my fair share of regrets about bad investments and about opportunities I lost because I could only see the fuller picture in hindsight.

"A day when you feel like you have everything in order… may never come. Or when it does, that feeling may be based on an illusion of security, and vanish as soon as reality intrudes.

"It's perfectly fine to wait until you're older. If you really don't feel secure enough, don't take risks that will only hurt you.

"But if you're thinking that you might want to marry these young ladies eventually, you should also think about their feelings. How would they would feel about you asking them to wait for some uncertain day in the unknown future? You'll be an eligible bachelor longer than they will be young maidens.

"And I know you. I remember every word you've said or written to me about these women, and I've watched you go out of your way to make them a part of your life. It's possible you would regret marrying them, down the line, but I think you'd regret choosing to not take care of them now."

Eurill finally found enough humor to smile, and laugh. "Besides! These are the ladies of Penguin Logistics, hand-picked by the inimitable Emperor. If they can thrive under his wing, they would surely be a great help to your work right now. Just as you were a great help to me, after your mother had to stay in Rim Billiton."

Bison had started to smile a little at the praise, though the mention of his mother took the light right out of it.

Still, Bison had recovered enough strength to ask, "What do you think Mom would say about this?"

Eurill sucked air through his teeth and then puffed up his cheeks as he blew it back out, gazing intently at nowhere. "You'd really need to ask her." He paused. "And I seriously mean that. If you fully commit to this before at least warning her, I fear she'll kill us both."

They shared a nervous yet affectionate bout of laughter.

Eurill clarified, "While I do think she would be very concerned, I also think that in the end she'd support you to make it work. Though we could lay some of her fears to rest if we took the girls with us when we go visit her."

Bison nodded, briefly pondering the logistics of such a trip as a matter of professional habit. But thinking about logistical concerns brought one of his final fears into focus.

"Wouldn't she disapprove of me marrying two women at once? And what do you really think about it?"

Eurill drummed his fingers on his knee, putting his thoughts together. "It's definitely not conventional, and I know you're wise enough to understand that conventions persist for very good, very painful reasons. But at the same time, you've never been married and you're still so young that you probably haven't questioned why marriages tend to be monogamous.

"The truth of it is that getting along with another person actually becomes harder when you're married to them. Bison, you think your 'people' skills are already tested in our line of work, but I promise you that it has only started to prepare you to handle disagreements with your wife.

"And I can promise you that having two wives, even if they're also each other's lovers, will only be more difficult and complicated than that. If for no other reason than sometimes, the two of them will fight with each other over matters that have nothing to do with you. You've written to me about one such incident in the past."

The nail-painting incident aboard Rhodes Island, Bison recalled unpleasantly. "But you're still not advising against it?"

"I can't really say what I would do in your shoes, because your mother wasn't with another woman when we met, she showed no interest in other women afterwards, and she certainly wasn't about to share me with anyone else. I'll admit that I've not seen or heard of a situation quite like this before.

"What I can do is warn you that some people will judge you poorly for going through with this. They're going to assume that you're a fool, greedy, with a poor understanding of your own limitations."

"Would they be wrong, though?"

"It would be up to you to prove them wrong. And in the meantime, you can use that to get them to underestimate you at the bargaining table."

Bison gave a dry but sincere laugh. Classic 'Eurill Pides’ advice.

====

Eurill gave his son one last hug, as the two of them stood outside the building where his son was now lodging while in Lungmen, then got back into the car and let the driver start for home.

All of a sudden, he recalled something the Rat King had said to him, two years ago, hours after Sauin.

"Penguin Logistics is a good place to cut your teeth. All of those fine ladies, the transporters, certainly don't make an easy go of it. But if I may offer one piece of advice?

"Be careful it doesn't backfire."

"Hah!" Eurill barked at himself. "Does it really count as a backfire when I almost hoped something like this would happen?" Granted, not like this.

One didn't get to Eurill's place in life without learning that one could never perfectly account for the plans of one's rivals, but sometimes even familiar players in the game would take seemingly uncharacteristic moves. It wasn't like the Emperor to suddenly decide to play match-maker.

But perhaps it wasn't the Emperor who changed at all. Yes, obviously it was the Siracusan who had changed after returning from the recent developments in Siracusa. Because Penguin Logistics had gone directly to MountainComm Trade rather than Mountain Dash Logistics, Eurill had missed whatever signs he might have gleaned.

But while she might have been the spark, the fireworks had the Emperor's fingerprints all over them. In love and war, the beast-lord would naturally side with his girls over anyone else, even a close associate like Bison. Eurill accepted this impersonally.

But he and the Emperor knew it would be meant and taken personally, too. He could see the damned beast's smug grin as clearly as if the Emperor were looking back in his reflection.

"Trust the Emperor to make a mutual victory feel like a one-sided defeat," Eurill mused. "But I've got many years yet left to play the game with you, penguin. I will find a way to pay you back for tonight's scare."

Seeking vengeance was a terrible way to live one's life, but revenge always added spice to fun and games.

====

Chapter 14: Temptation and torment

#arknights #fanfic #fanfiction #bison #polyamory #sora #texas #arknights fanfic #texas x sora

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