#the mere idea of sex grosses me out

[laismoura-art]

Me: Oh, I never really thought much about whether I would like to be with a boy or a girl. I must be Bissexual!

Me, realising I never cared about that because in the end I don't want to be with either of them: oh. OH!

Sometimes you're just aro...

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[moonalumi]

road-tripping with ellie ( fluff + smut )

warnings- lots of fluff in the first half, car sex. ellie and reader aren’t really dom or sub just horny, fingering (r receiving) , thigh grinding, SCISSORING/TRIBBING AHHHH, also ellie being a loser, overstimulation

palestine help master post

honestly the idea was stupid. ellie suggested it first and it took her so long to finally convince you.

“ellie no nevermind! your cars already breaking down and it’s only been an hour on the road.” you yell out the window so ellie; who’s “fixing” her car, can hear.

“babe it’s fine it’s just the air conditioning that broke, we can just roll down all the windows” she says slamming the hood of the car and slouching back into the drivers seat. she’s already glistening with sweat after only being outside for a couple minutes.

you roll your eyes at her wiping the sweat off her forehead, “you’re acting like you were working hard, fixing the car when all you were doing was staring at it.”

“hey!!” ellie acts offended, “at least i wasn’t just sitting here complaining.”

ellie starts up the car again and drives off again. the wind practically smacking you in the face. ellie laughs at your discomfort and leaves a reassuring hand on your bare thigh, “aw babe you wanna get ice cream then or something to cool off?”

you nod and turn your thighs away from ellie, faking being angry at her. el knows your antics by now n merely laughs at you, squeezing your thigh before pulling up into an ice cream shop.

ellie collects her keys and wallet and opens her car door before realizing you haven’t even moved from your seat yet, “babe are you coming with me?” she asks, eyebrows all knit together with a look of concern.

“no just get me a vanilla cone.” you reply dryly. not even sparing ellie a glance.

“it’s gonna get really hot in here are you sure?” she asks again.

“yes ellie go!”

ellie smiles before hoping out the car to treat her angry girlfriend with ice cream. and she’s smiling again when coming back to the car and hands you your ice cream through your open window.

“for you because you’re my beautiful princess and i love you so much” ellie leaves a big wet smooch to your cheek that has your nose crinkling.

“ew ellie shut up you’re so cheesy, don’t kiss me” you wipe her spit off your cheek as you take your ice cream cone from her hand.

ellie settles in her seat again, “oh cmon you used to love my cheesy little lines.” you give ellie a side eye to which she laughs at.

“awe babe cmon you can’t be mad at me anymore i got you ice cream.” she places her clammy hand on your thigh once again and you wince.

“ellie!!! theres melted ice cream on your hand and it’s all sticky—“ ellie smirks and only grips your thigh harder, “ewww don’t touch me!!!” you squeal and she chuckles, licking the melted vanilla ice cream off her fingers.

“there it’s clean. can i touch you princess?” she teases.

“you’re so gross and annoying, i hate you i don’t know why i’m dating you.”

ellie leans in with the biggest dorkiest smile on her cute face, “because you love meeee.” you can feel her eyes searching for yours.

so you turn to face her, “i do love you els.” you smile back at her and peck the corner of her lips, “love you so much.”

you can see ellie’s cheeks gets impossibly redder as if they weren’t already flushed pink from the heat.

“now can you drive to some cute park or something before we drive again. i don’t wanna see highways anymore” you ask your girlfriend.

“of course baby” she says before leaving you alone to enjoy your ice cream on the drive.

———

“babe stop eating all the good fruits!! you always steal my food.” ellie complains as she eats what she got herself from the ice cream shop.

“that’s what happens when you get a girlfriend ellie.” you tease.

the scenery of the park is rather beautiful. there’s a large pond with tall willow trees lining the edges of it. the sun glistening on the waters surface making it look sparkly. you and ellie occasionally throwing fruits at the birds only after frantically searching up if the fruits were okay for birds to eat. but with no service you decided just fuck it maybe it’ll be okay.

ellie of course, parked in the shadiest most secluded part of the park; claiming it was for the romantics and so “we can have privacy while we makeout.”

she wasn’t wrong though because the second you two finished eating your little treats, ellie was practically begging with her eyes for you to makeout with her.

ellie’s big eyes turning more and more half lidded every time you separated from each other to catch your breaths. her hands getting more touchy. they’re moving from holding your hand to your jaw to behind your neck to push you deeper into the kiss.

the longer you kiss her and separate the cuter she looks. her lips are getting puffy and pinker and glistening with the combination of both your salivas. her tongue peeks out to lick her lips before she’s attacking your face again. then kissing down your neck. leaving a trail of wet open mouth kisses down to your collarbone.

“babe…smooch smooch… please” ellie whispers through her kisses. her hand pulling your hair back to have better access to your neck.

“you wanna go in the back el?” you ask pulling back to see her face. she nods and scrambles into the back. just crawling, jumping over the back and fumbling around to find a comfy spot and to leave enough space for you.

you shortly join her and straddle her lap. ellie smiles while looking up at you as you brush her hair away from her face and cupping it.

“you look so cute elzy, you want me?”

“mhm please” she mumbles out, muffled now that her face in smushed in between the cleavage of your tits.

“take these off then,” you hook your finger over the waistband of her jeans and sit off her lap to take your own pants off.

the whole ‘taking off pants’ process took seconds but in those mere seconds the sun managed to pierce through the shade that ellie cautiously parked her car in and heat started pooling into the already stuffy back seat of the car.

you hurriedly straddle ellie’s lap again. her mouth attacking you with harsher kisses and bites all over from your neck to your exposed tits thanks to ellie pulling down your tank top.

“mmm babe you taste so good” she mumbles with her lips all squished against your skin.

“w-what no im sweaty?” you question out of breath as you unconsciously grind on her thigh.

ellie’s attention gets diverted from your tits to the roll of your hips on her thigh, “augh shit babe m’sorry not giving her enough attention”

her fingertips shakily find their way to your clit. then down to your hole and smearing your slick all over your folds.

“elll” you beg thrusting your pussy to follow her fingers.

ellie pants and whimpers the second her fingers enter your hole, it’s like she’s the one getting fingered with all the huffing she’s making. her lips find yours as she thrusts her fingers in and out. her knuckles already getting wet from your slick.

ellie’s still a nervous wreck during sex even though you’ve done it a couple of times together. her fingers are still shaky inside you, she’s not keeping an even pace and her thumb is fumbling around not knowing whether to rub at your clit or not.

“babe w-wait,” you push ellie away a little and she gives you the cutest confused look. before she can even talk you give her a kiss and grab at her thighs and spread them apart. sitting your pussy right atop of hers and a moan leaves the both of you. ellie gives you a lazy smile and her hands plant right on your hips.

“that feel good?” you ask her. even though you already know the answer she looks lost in bliss.

her head leaned back against the headrest and she just looks so sexy all sweaty in nothing but her tank top and in need of pussy. whining and whimpering and thrusting her cute bush covered pussy up to meet your clit.

you wrap your arms around her neck and press your forehead against hers as your rut harder against her. you can feel her clit throbbing against yours and it just makes the pleasure of watching your two pussies coating each other with cum and the sight of ellie’s body under you. her abs contracting as she cums.

“babe babe aughh ohh fuck!” ellie whimpers out. her eyes squeezing shut from the pleasure.

the sound of wetness and squelching becomes so much louder the faster you grind on her. ellie’s moans getting higher and higher pitched as she becomes increasingly more sensitive after her orgasm.

“ellie im so close please hold on” you breathe out. ellie tries holes back the volume of her moans and instead squeezing your hips as she takes your grinds.

you squeeze ellie in for a hug as you cum on her pussy. kissing the top of her head and slowing down to a limp stop when you’re done.

you and ellie catch your breaths before the heat becomes unbearable. both of you are dripping sweat on each other. still half naked with cum in between your legs.

“babe-fuck what are we cleaning up with” you ask sitting up and watch as the strings of cum that connect you two break.

ellie grabs a random shirt she had stuffed in the bags and hands it to you, “just use that it’s whatever” she helps guide your shaky legs to sit next to her and clean each other up.

both of you still out of breath, and heaving immediately drive to a store to get some waters and maybe some cleaning supplies because the backseat definitely has you and ellie’s babies still on it.

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.  

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88 (more tags in the comments!)

[starkeyisthelastname]

Rafe w plus-sized/chubby reader, pretty pleeeease??

“Them stretch marks im nuttin all over.”

You read the text message over and over again. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you sat down on the edge of your bed. The way the heat was rushing to your core in such a fast manner, had you concerned. No man had ever made you feel this way especially a man this gorgeous. His name was Rafe and you had met him on Tinder of all places.

You had been in so many failed relationships that you were done trying, but of course there was only so long you could go with just using your rose toy. And while that little thing was amazing, you did miss the feeling of sex. Signing up for Tinder, you promised yourself that you were not looking for a relationship and merely only wanted to see if you could find a potential friends with benefits. You had never had one, always falling into these too quickly.

You weren’t exactly confident, your weight always getting in the way. Something you had struggled with as long as you could remember. You had a tummy, rolls, stretch marks, your face always being too round. You hated the fact men turned you away when asking for a picture of your body.

Rafe was muscular with light tan skin and gorgeous blue eyes. His profile read that he was 6’2, he worked at his dad’s business and he was looking for something causal. You thought you had nothing to lose and swiped right on his profile, not thinking anything of it. You were sure he wouldn’t give you the time of day.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you saw the notification.

You matched with Rafe!

Rafe sent you a message

Matched? You were in shock as you opened up the message hoping it wouldn’t scare him off that you were messaging him back so quickly. The two of you started off casual, making small conversation to learn a little about one another even exchanging numbers. It then led to being flirtatious, him causing your pussy to feel butterflies. He asked what you liked in bed, your turn ons, what made you feel good. When he asked for a picture of your body, you immediately got anxious. Normally you’d block the guy no matter how hot they were.

Sending him a full body picture of you and explaining that you had stretch marks, and cellulite and weren’t skinny by any means. You sat on the edge of your bed nervously. It took him a minute to reply, making you wonder if he got grossed out. But as soon as that text message came in, your eyes widened. Reading it over and over, you didn’t know how to reply.

Your phone dinged again, this time with an address. Was this really going to happen? As nervous as you were, you found yourself typing back a response.

“You want me to come over?” You bit your lip, waiting for a response. The typing bubbles appeared, only to disappear a few seconds after. Your phone buzzed in your hand, a video now having been sent from his end. You took a deep breath, clicking the play button where it turned to full screen. Your eyes widened as the camera focused on his grey sweatpants, the clear outline of a huge dick now in the frame. You instantly felt the ache run straight to your core, wanting to see more of it.

“What do you think? Let me put this in you, pretty girl.” The message below the video said.

You rang the doorbell, nervously rocking on your heels as you waited. This wasn't the best idea you had ever had. He could be a crazy person for all you knew. The house was rather dark and you didn't see much movement. You pulled out your phone to start to text him when you heard the sound of a door being opened.

You looked up to see him standing there. He was tall, his profile height being right. His eyes were the bluest shade you had ever seen, staring at you with the sexiest smirk. He was shirtless, toned abs making your mouth water as you couldn't help but glance at him.

“Hi.” You squeaked nervously.

“Hey.” His voice deep, making you want to cum right then and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping in the house as he opened the door wider. You looked around, the house neat with neutral colors. He cleared his throat, walking past you towards the living room. “Let me turn this off real quick and we will go upstairs.” He said, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off.

He led you up the stairs and down the hall to what you presumed to be his bedroom. It was surprisingly clean, and smelled of cedar and his cologne. He shut the door, walking past you to sit on the edge of the bed. You sat your purse down on the end of the dresser, hands folding in front of you in nerves.

“Come here.” He rasped out, eyes raking over you as you stepped closer to him. He roughly grabbed your hips to pull you between his legs, hand running down to grip your ass. “Don’t be shy with me. Alright? You’re fucking beautiful.” He said.

You had never felt or seen a dick so big. Your head hung down, flushed cheek pressed into the mattress as Rafe pounded you from behind. This position was almost too much for you, making you grab the sheets to almost pull away.

“Where you going, huh? Don’t start fucking runnin from me.” His voice about the sexiest thing you had ever heard. You felt his large hand come to your head, yanking your hair back in a tight fist. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe spat, gripping your jaw to force apart. You did exactly as you were told, not having much of a choice as he spit directly onto your tongue. You felt completely degraded, exactly one of your kinks you told him you had. He was not playing around with you, and the chokehold this man had you on was crazy.

He chuckled, leaning down to capture your tongue with his in a messy kiss, your poor cunt being drilled by his massive length at a constant pace. You whined against his mouth, pussy clenching around his cock as you already began to squirt against him and the sheets below.

“Shit.. you like ruining my sheets and shit?” His voice hoarse, reaching down to slap your thick ass cheek roughly.

All you could do was nod, head pounding from the still tight grip on your hair. You had completely came undone in just a short amount of time. The insecurities you had felt before had disappeared for the time being, Rafe worshipping your curves by fucking you exactly how you had wanted.

[nctstar]

hi! i just read "one, two..." with djj × female pairing and i was wondering if you could maybe do a jeno, haechan and mark/jaemin version? i love your works!

your wish is my command bsf <3 also thank you so much! means a lot :)

don't let us kinkshame you!

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

pairing: markhyuckno x fem!reader, stylist!reader

other members: chenle (poor dude has no idea)

word count: 7.2k

genre: smut

warnings: this is purely a graphic smut so minors please dni!! foursome, everything is consensual (safeword is established + mentioned), dom!marhyuckno (hard dom!jeno), sub!reader, fanfiction smut is a main theme in this, wet dreams, alpha/omega/beta kink, alpha!jeno, sir kink, sort of muscle/size kink (i'm sorry but bulging biceps make me go insane), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly folks), rough sex (reader is manhandled/held down), degradation (liberal use of the words slut, whore, brat + other degrading terms), everyone has a ginormous dick, slight praise kink, sort of pain play (not really) intense orgasms, squirting, fingering (fem receiving), humiliation, oral (male receiving), nipple play, riding, crying during sex, spanking, begging, punishing reader sexually, profanity

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: thank you anon and sorry this is definitely the nastiest thing to ever come out of my imagination and onto my laptop. i think i'm on some sort of watchlist for sure

“Have you read it, _?”

“Read what?” The sound of the hairdryer muffled most sounds in the room, including Mark’s voice as you watched his mouth open and close with his answer. Running your hands through Haechan’s semi-dry locks, you noticed a lit-up phone in front of your face. Squinting, you read while your hands worked.

poison | alpha! jeno x reader | 18+

You swallowed thickly, but quickly composed yourself. Swiping the hairbrush off the dresser, you glanced at Haechan in the mirror, setting his hair at the same time. “Sounds like more action than you two would ever get in a week…combined.”

Haechan rolled his tongue inside his cheek, playfully annoyed while Mark remained undeterred, his eyes still glued to his phone. His eyes suddenly widen, and he looks away, a mix of morbid curiosity and shock in his eyes. “Damn...”

Haechan sneered. “Got a boner there, Mr Lee?”

An empty can of hairspray bounced off Haechan’s forehead with a dull thump, Mark’s chair now swivelled around to face him. “Guys! Let me do my job! We only have, like, 2 minutes to go, and Haechan, your damn hair isn’t setting.”

“I have to dye it every 2 minutes because I have a comeback that often, remember?”

“Have you been using the treatment I gave you last session?”

“Why? Would you give me a reward if I did?” His deep brown irises glistened under the harsh white lights as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. Smacking his shoulder in response, you tried to hide the way your heart was fluttering inside your chest, like a million butterflies trapped in a glass jar. “Lee Donghyuck!”

“It’s okay baby, it’ll be better next time.”

“Gross.” Embarrassingly, you felt your core twitch at the mere thought of those words being taken out of context. “Such a dirty mind. You sure you didn’t write that alpha fic?”

You were getting brave, but something inside of you forced you to keep going. Haechan scoffed, rolling his eyes and swinging one leg over the other. “Yeah, I don’t have the hots for Jeno. Mark might, though.”

“Say it one more time, Donghyuck, I’m warning you.” Mark was shrugging the salon cape off himself, brushing lint off the stage jacket. He towered over his hairstylist, on her tiptoes as she fixed the strands of hair that spiked strategically on his forehead. His undercut teased you from the side, and you swallowed deeply, thinking about last night. As if on cue, Mark turned to look at you, as quick as you would glance at the barista for your morning coffee. “See you later.”

That was code for see you later with my cock down your throat.

∞

“Nghhh, Mark.”

“You’re doing so well, baby. Think you can go a few more times?”

You nodded slowly, the swollen bulb of his cock sticking onto the remnants of your lipgloss.

“Fuck, such a perfect slut. How did we get so lucky, hmm?” Your hair tangled in his long fingers, he pierced you on his thick length, tapping your cheek with his other hand when you gagged loudly. “Shhh, quieter. Don’t want anyone else to hear, yeah?”

You whimpered softly, desperately trying to open wider to accommodate him. He pushed you deep until your nose grazed his pubic bone, your hands immediately coming to his thighs as a reflex. “Good fucking girl. God, I’m so close. All for you, baby.” You pushed on his thighs when you felt your throat restrict uncomfortably, coughing up saliva as you soon as his cock left your mouth.

Mark tipped your head up to face him, your watery eyes staring back at him. “Gonna make you feel so good after this, yeah?” His thumb pressed down on your tongue hard, forcing drool to slide down your chin. “Use your words, slut. Tell me how much you need my cock.”

Mark was usually mean, but today he was mean mean, and, though you were taken aback, you couldn’t say you hated it.

Garbled sounds left your mouth as Mark slipped his other fingers inside your mouth, forcing you to babble nonsense at him. He laughed darkly. “So pathetic.”

“Mark, please.” You gasped as he released your mouth, fingers now grabbing your chin tightly. “Wanna make you feel so good, s-sir.”

“Wanna make your alpha feel good, baby?” You froze immediately, the word alpha stunning you into place like a deer caught in headlights.

You and Mark stared at each other for much longer than would normally be considered sexy, the energy in the air quickly changing into something painstakingly awkward. Not wanting to lose the momentum you both had gathered or, worse, discuss what just happened, you grabbed at his cock and shoved your mouth onto him, making him stumble backwards and groan. The air was filled with sounds of sloppy head, all caution thrown out the window as you bobbed your head through his orgasm, not stopping until you felt hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat.

∞

“Mark, I will never let you forget this.”

“Haechan, be serious here.” Mark unbuttoned the top of his jeans, breathing out in relief as the seams on the size-too-small pants released its iron-clad grip on his body. The inside of the car was dark, the only light being that coming from Haechan’s phone, illuminating the bottom of his face and lips, now curled into a teasing smirk.

Haechan leant forward, seemingly trying to hide the impending conversation from the poor staff member tasked on driving them back to their dorm. “You used the word alpha unironically while you were making _ suck your dick? I’m actually fucking dying right now.”

“Oh my god, yes, we get it, I tried something new and it failed miserably.” Mark hissed under his break, sneaking one glance behind him. “But what was weirder is…well, you should have seen the look on her face. It’s like she got caught or something.”

Haechan chuckled lowly. “Or maybe she was just weirded the hell out, Mark.”

“Well,” Mark scratched at his head, the hair gel residue now itching at his scalp. “We usually…do more. But today, she just ran out after that and didn’t say anything else.”

“Good job, Milk. You just ruined your chances at sex with her forever, you freak.”

Mark sighed, pretending not to have heard him and frowning as if deep in thought. Haechan raised one eyebrow. “You don’t mean to say…”

“What?”

“That’s not what you’re insinuating, is it?” The car began to slow, and both men became wary of the newfound quiet inside the car as they cruised down a near-empty suburb, the odd man or woman dimly lit by passing streetlights as the walked by. “What are you talking about right now?” As Haechan reshuffled himself on his seat to get closer to Mark, one leg brushed past his, and he cleared his throat, trying to be as unsuspecting as possible.

“You think she’s into that kinda stuff?”

“Well, why would she run away then?”

“Think about what we were doing before this.” The words felt unsure even as they left his mouth, hanging in the air with uncertainty. It was too ridiculous no matter how he looked at it. But just he had to say it.  

The elephant in the room.

“Wait, wait. That’s her story?”

“Woah.” Haechan put down his phone officially, the car now shrouded in a new darkness, both men squinting to make out the other’s face. “I meant that she might have read it. Not that she…well.” He was visibly puzzled now, his voice faint but quick like a flurry of feathers. “I mean, there’s that possibility. But maybe she was into it, and you reminding her of it made her embarrassed.”

“But why would she be embarrassed? We do worse things, for sure.”

“Okay, first of all, gross. Second, she probably hasn’t accepted it herself. I mean, that fic…” He leant back, his jacket crinkling loud in the almost silent car. “There’s stuff in there that goes way beyond your regular wild kinks and shit.”

“She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.” Both men sit in silence for a while, letting that sink in. “I mean…she would be confident enough to be bolder about that kind of thing, you know? She’s the kinda girl that knows what she wants, when she wants it, exactly how she wants it.”

“Right.” Haechan bit his lip, trying to hold back the words that’s so fucking sexy for fear of being teased mercilessly for months. He knew you belonged to no one, yet there was a part of him that recognised that you would probably never choose him to have your way with. The way you looked at Mark, eyes glazing over in deep submission, a stark contrast to the way you looked at him, so many things hidden behind those playful, bratty eyes.

Mark hummed under his breath, phone now in hand. “She’s coming tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s her shift tomorrow.” Haechan didn’t think, he knew. He knew you worked Mondays and Fridays and the occasional Wednesday, always arriving between 13 to 16 minutes early to go to the bathroom first, stepping into the dressing room just a minute before and no later. It was creepy, for sure, but he couldn’t help it. He felt the need to be ready whenever you were there. He needed you to see him only in the ways he wanted, layers of banter and smooth mannerisms hiding his true feelings underneath, the way his heart slammed against his ribcage and threatened to break free whenever you moved close.

“Well, we’ll see how she reacts then.” Mark slouched against his seat, his voice fading away as his attention shifted, and Haechan marvelled at how five second thoughts of you had rendered him completely amnesiac to what he was just talking about with Mark. He closed his eyes, letting his body naturally drift off into an exhausted slumber.

 ∞

“Hey boys.”

Your satin-clad hips swayed back and forth as you walked, one hand re-applying your gloss for what felt like the dozenth time.  “Anyone need a touch up or are we all good here?”

Mark was surprised at your easy demeanour, as if nothing was ever going on between you guys, let alone the encounter you two had had only yesterday. He cleared his throat, sweat dripping down his forehead as another staff member helped him unzip his top from the back. “You look…nice.” He wondered if it was obvious that he was trying to keep his eyes locked on your face, not wanting his gaze to linger too much on your body.

“Yeah, I’m dressed for the event after this. That’s still happening, right?” Your heels clacked against the linoleum floor as you stepped forward. Haechan was only two steps ahead of you, his hair in the hands of another stylist. You whispered something to her and she let go, walking away with the gel stick still in her hand. “Look forward.”

“Didn’t really strike me as the party type, _.” Your last name drawled off his lips, lazy and nonchalant. “Always stroke me as weird book girl in the corner type.”

“And what if I am?” You started backcombing his stiff strands, grimacing at the residue the gel was leaving and the way it was inevitably mixing with his sweat. “I can be both, can’t I?”

“Sure. You could be a writer, couldn’t you, _?”

Haechan could have sworn that even for a split second, a moment so small, so ­­blink and you’ll miss it, that you hesitated. Your hands shook with the energy of a tiny hummingbird flapping its wings, so swift it stopped as soon as it registered. “Nah.” You sounded different now, like you were feigning innocence to hide the fact that he had cornered you.

Mark and Haechan shared a knowing side-eye as Haechan felt firm pulls on his scalp. “You should probably get going, Mark.” His name fell solid in the air as it left your mouth, as certain as a command would be, and your peripheral vision caught the ends of his body as he packed up his things and left soundlessly.

It was only you and Haechan in the room now, the other stylists now long gone (a/n: how convenient!), leaving behind only the mess of a true makeup studio, products strewn haphazardly across the plastic dressers. You watched Haechan lick his lips on instinct in the mirror, only now noticing the various sticky notes adorned with Korean letters you weren’t too familiar with. “No, don’t. You’ll mess up the- oh, never mind.” You sighed, but it didn’t feel relieving at all, as if your muscles were constricting up again instead of letting go. Haechan talked at your reflection. “Sorry.”

A whirl of your arm sent his chair turning so he was now facing you, bending over to match his eye level. “Hold still.” As your breaths played out of sync, you were hyper aware of every sensation. The way your hairs stood on end. The smell of his musky cologne now filling your nostrils. Your bare legs suddenly burning hot, slightly brushing against the inside of his knees. Your eyes fighting to stay up at his face and not stray downwards. “That’s it.” You glazed his lips over with your applicator, gripping the tube and the arm of the chair in one hand.

You were used to these intimate positions, particularly with the job you had. But, as you realised you had just applied your own lipgloss onto him, a different feeling was dawning on you.

As you locked eyes, Haechan spoke, bold and ready. “It would be insane if you didn’t kiss me right now.”

The first noticeable sensation was the sticky mess that threatened to spread over the edges of both of your lips, lewd sucking noises now filling the air as you both dived deeper. Your tongue flitted over his lips and he groaned. “Fuck.” Readjusting in his chair, he slapped his thigh. “Sit, sit.”

“No.” Pulling away, you turned his chair once again to face the mirror and patted his shoulder. “Stand up.”

“W-wh…” Confused, he stumbled off anyway, wheels turning and the seat rolling away from the impact of his stand. He turned to face you.

“Good boy.” You smirked, lips now grazing the supple skin of his Adam’s apple, hands travelling down to his pants. “Is this what you wanted all along, baby?”

He stared, eyes slightly glassy, rimmed with smudged black kohl. Tilting his head back, he breathed soft moans onto your skin as you sucked on his neck, red blooming onto his olive skin. “A-ah.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, I need you right now, Hyuck.” Something about using his real name felt too intimate, affectionate even, and he kissed you as you unbuckled him, semi-stiff cock hitting your clothed pelvis. Pushing him back onto the vanity, you angled yourself, him eventually helping you by giving you a small lift once he realised what was happening. Up on your toes, one leg slightly elevated, you let your walls suck him in all at once. “O-oh, fuck.”

He thrusted upwards, iron grip on your hips unchanging as you clawed at his back, the studs on his jacket rough underneath the pads of your fingers. The pleasure was spreading to your chest, rendering you speechless. “Oh my god, oh, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You begged, feeling your thighs slip against each other as your own arousal dripped down your legs.

“_? You sleeping right now?”

You awoke with a gasp, your phone clattering onto the tiles as you sat up. “Woah, take it easy. You alright?” He leant over to pick up your thankfully intact phone, shuffling closer with one arm outstretched and eyebrows gently raised.

Before you was Lee Jeno, blonde hair grazing the top edges of his round eyes, body bulging against the thin fabric of the white shirt. His waist accentuated by a thick leather belt, you noticed the outskirts of his toned stomach peeking out from under his top. Gulping, you nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks, um…” His name died on your lips, as if some sort of curse prevented you from ever uttering it.

“Here. You sure you’re okay? You were sleeping pretty deeply, even in this noise. Sorry, I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, I’m the crazy one, right? Sleeping at a party!” You tried to laugh it off, but a snort came out instead, and you blushed intensely. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing.

Unfazed, Jeno smiled, eyes turning into semicircles as he did. “It would be fine if you went home, you know.” He tilted his head, blonde hairs perfectly aligning to one side. The charisma radiating off him froze you in place, and you had to unglue your eyes from his face. “Ah, yeah.” Truthfully, your body felt like it had been through a dryer, and your joints were cracking like popcorn. You needed sleep for sure.

He jumped from the couch, letting you bounce slightly. Looking up, he extended his arm. “Come. I’ll drop you off.”

∞

You felt exposed. Not only because you were in the skimpiest outfit you owned, but because halfway through you and Jeno’s exit from the party, he had decided it was too cold and had changed into a hoodie and sweats, making him look less and less like a colleague or client or even friend and more like an idol sugar daddy. Nevertheless, you didn’t oppose his company, and you both rode back in silence, his knees knocking into yours occasionally, making your heart flip each time.

It’s not that he made you nervous, typically, despite your tiny little crush on him. But it was the way he woke you up right in the middle of your wet dream with another man, mere hours after his bandmate had you on your knees sucking him off. Every time he leaned over, your name leaving his lips so effortlessly as you stumbled over yours, your hands shook with the thoughts than ran wild in your brain. Did he know? You wondered, as he droned over some tiktok video, whether he knew about your sexual rendezvous with his bandmates, some real and some imagined, and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach only grew as time passed.

It didn’t change as you had reached in your apartment, him somehow still on the topic he was on in the car, now manspreading onto your couch as you sat quietly across from him.

“But like, do you get it, _?” He sipped on the coffee you had made for him, marvelling at how quickly he drank something that usually took you an hour to finish. “Not bad. But why would he even do that, you know? Maybe she didn’t realise that he knew, but oh boy, he definitely knew.”

“Right.” To be clear, you had lost the plot ages ago, shamelessly thinking more about how close in proximity your bodies were, how comfortable he suddenly was around you, and what it all meant. “Do you want, uh, something else.” Shyly gesturing at his empty mug, you tucked hair behind your right ear, the movement unsteady.

He stared directly at you now, letting your anxiety rise and fill the space between your bodies. Holding the gaze, he dropped the mug in front of himself on the table, only then dropping his head dramatically in between his collarbones. You frowned.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “I must be annoying, right.”

“No, no, not at all!” Your voice was much more high-pitched than a woman with any self-esteem, but you kept going. “I mean, that’s fine, Jeno, really. It’s nice to see you, like passionate, and um…” Your babbling continued, and he only smirked in response. Your stomach turned as you suddenly watched as his eyes change, darken around the edges. Suddenly the lights in your apartment felt harsh, exposing, like the lights on a fresh crime scene.  

“_. I know about the fic.”

“What fic?” It was on instinct, but your ears starting ringing, blood running cold in your hands and feet. This isn’t real. This is another dream.

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed, baby. It’s okay to think those things about me.” He slumped backwards, one arm around the back of the couch, a subtle cocky smile starting to bloom across his face. “Markie told me how good you are anyway.”

“Jeno…” You fought the urge to gasp, your face burning from the inside out. “I, wait, um…”

“Shh, stop that.” He leaned forward with an almost-too-eager attitude, but he held himself back as he spread his knees wide, pointing at the ground. “Here.”

“Fuck, this isn’t happening.” Your hair whipped the sides of your face as you shook your head vigorously, slowly gazing up at his long frame as you did. You swore you heard him laugh quietly. “This is another dream, isn’t it.”

“So you dream about me?”

“No, it was about Hae-“ Jeno’s eyes widened before he guffawed loudly. “Fuck, _, you’re nastier than I thought. Was he good? Better than Mark?”

It was your turn to be shocked, eyes widening as he shook his head, letting his hair ride up his forehead. “Why, did you think it was a well-kept secret? Have you seen Mark? He glows with the radiance of a man who gets his dick sucked on the regular.”

“Jeno.” You wanted to be stern, but your voice came out kind of soft, almost like a whimper.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Stop stalling, _. You heard me the first time.”

“But-“

“But what? If you want to stop, you can just say cherry. That’s what her Jeno told her to say, right?”

He had read the entire thing. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening.

As your body filled with an airy energy, you realised you were actually getting horny. He wanted you, maybe even needed you, and that filled your stomach with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. You slowly gulped, hearing the couch shuffle as you moved off it, walking over to him.

“Good girl. On your knees, baby.” You obeyed silently, eyes onto the floor as you waited.

“What are you waiting for, slut?” You felt Jeno’s rough hands grab the short strands of your hair, making you squeal like a tiny animal. “Do you wanna go home without tasting alpha’s big cock tonight, hmm?”

“Nnngh…n-no.” You eyes began to water at the force pulling on your scalp, hands fumbling around the waistband of his grey sweatpants. Your heart began to pound as you eyed the sizable bulge he was forming in his boxers.

“That’s it. Now hands behind your back.” As his length sprung out of the tight confines of his underwear, you cried out as it hit you square in the nose. “O-oh my god. Oh…fuck, wait, I don’t know.” Feeling Jeno’s unforgiving grip on your head keeping you dangerously close to him. you brought your palms to his knees, ready to push him away.

“What is it now?”

You shook your head, throat constricting already at the thought of his length inside your mouth. “It’s…well…fuck, it’s huge.”

As you looked up at him, you watched him give you a condescending smile. “Do you think alpha cares about you, baby, hmm? Why are you telling me all this? I don’t give a flying fuck. You either take all of me, or you leave. But you’ll leave a bad omega.”

Any other scenario where someone said something like this would have made you cringe, maybe even laugh, but today you felt your breath catch inside your lungs, as if someone was squeezing them extra tight. Word for word from the fic.

Whimpering, you folded both your palms around his girth, making him hiss. “Oh fuck, can’t even wrap my hands around it.” you whispered.

“You guys started without us?”

You jumped off your knees, your brain already forming the myriad of excuses before the initial shock settled and the words finally registered. “What the hell are you two doing in my apartment?” You glared at Mark, and now Haechan, who was slowly starting to come out of the shadows like a creepy stalker.

“Spare key.” The metal glinted as he hung the keychain off his fingers before grabbing it in midair. The same key you had handed Mark a few weeks ago, back when your little sessions were becoming daily (or multiple times a day) and you were sick of having to do the whole thing where he would have to come to your place an hour after you had arrived in case people were following him, or worse, taking pictures. He would have to wait into ungodly hours into the night on days you worked the night shift, which would let the spontaneous lust you had both gathered over the course of the day fizzle out by the time your tired body came home. You couldn’t be seen together outside of the workplace for various reasons, so having him come first carefully and you after had been working pretty well so far.

Except, well, for times like this.

“Mark!” You exclaimed, now fully facing him and closer to his lean frame, the waft of cologne hitting you as you trodded towards him. “Are you serious? You came here without my permission? And let someone else come too, at that!” Haechan acted insulted at this, mouth parting in mock surprise.

“I’m sorry, baby. But come on, Jeno had a great idea that we just couldn’t miss.” He brought one hand to stroke the side of your face, making you wince slightly. The ends of his fingers were like electricity, having more power over you than you liked to admit. You made eye contact with Haechan, and it was like you were back inside your dream. This. Wasn’t. Happening.

“I-wait…are you guys…seriously, what, you’re not saying-“

“Alright, talk over. Get over here, _. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” Jeno let one arm hang lazily across the arm of your couch, another one stroking his length at an agonising pace. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets, and your stomach churned nervously.

“Stop drooling and suck me off like a good omega. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You were on your knees again, Jeno’s cock at eye level, trying to ignore your newfound audience with a very telling tremble of your legs. Opening your mouth, you began to suck around his tip, the salty precum exploding on your tongue. You felt a hand on the back of your head, and you jerked away immediately. “Stop teasing. Come on, show your alpha and these dumb little betas what you’re good at.” You whined. “Fuck, fuck.” Choked cries filled the air as Jeno impaled you on his cock with one hand, his tip hitting the sensitive part of your throat and making you gag loudly.

As he pulled you off, strings of saliva attached him to your lips, embarrassingly making your core clench around nothing as you marvelled at how filthy this entire situation was. “So big.” Your voice was raspy, juices slathered over your chin as if he’d been fucking your mouth for hours. Jeno let you engulf him whole again, the sloppy sounds becoming more rhythmic as he bounced your face back and forth on him. “Hands off me and behind your back.” You balled your fists as you listened to him, closing your eyes as he groaned in pleasure. “So warm and tight. All for me, yeah?” You shook your head up and down as you hummed in response, looking up and him with your watery eyes.

You watched Jeno’s eyes drift away from you to something behind. “Ah, wait, let me get her off me first.” His voice changed now, you barely comprehended what was happening as you gasped for air post pull-off, before feeling a resounding slap on the back of your bare thighs. “Ah!”

“You think you can just leave me after sucking me off, baby? After all that we’ve been through.” You felt your skirt be pulled up, making you sit back on your heels. “Nuh-uh. Get up, let me see you.”

“Fuck, Mark, I didn’t me-oh!” This time he hit your ass, hard, jolting you onto Jeno���s thigh, his cock still grazing the side of your cheek. “Oh, fuck. Mmm.” You tried to shuffle forward but Jeno grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them on his thigh on one side. “Take it like a good girl.” The sting was immediately compounded by the feeling of our own arousal dripping down your thighs, the nasty realisation dawning on you that these assholes were recreating every scene that was written in that damn fic.

“Oh my god, I just wrote it, I didn’t…ah, Mark,” You whined as he squeeze a sensitive part of the plush on your backside. Between hits, you managed to sound out, “I, oh…ah, I didn’t write it for me – oh fuck! Nngh, didn’t mean it, oh my god.” Tears threatening to spill, you resorted to begging. “Mark, M- sir, please!”

“You called, baby?” Trying to turn your head uncomfortably back, you coughed. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean it?”

“What was that, hmm?” Two fingers in your sopping core and you gasped. “Ah, mmm, sorry, sir, ah…”

“So fucking wet. All from me punishing you like that. Is this what you liked all along, you dirty girl? To be our little sadist fucktoy.” One hand around your shoulders and another still knuckle deep inside you, he pulled you up so that your back hit his clothed chest, grip tight and unfaltering. You moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers curl up towards your g-spot. “S-sir, fuck, so good, so good, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, want more.” You began to bounce your hips on his fingers, head floaty. A sharp slap across your face brought you back to reality, head whacking against the bony part of Mark’s upper chest. “Fucking whore, moving without permission like that.” Jeno was now gripping the ends of your chin, groin facing you once more. “Finish the job, baby. Don’t fucking care what he’s doing.”

“Yes, alpha.” You could have sworn you heard Haechan sigh, a mixture of pleasure and awe, but the moment passed as you took Jeno’s monstrous length once more, your jaw aching already. Mark took this opportunity to start fucking his fingers into you faster and faster. His teeth grazed your earlobe. “You like this, baby? Or you too busy tasting alpha cock to care?”

Your body squirmed under his arm, feeling his muscles bulge against you. Your head felt like jelly as Jeno pounded into you, one hand pushing your forehead down into place. You felt like a little doll being passed around, a slave to your desires, and you screamed as you came, liquid squirting out of your hole and all over your tiled floor as you did.

Your head began feeling floaty, but Jeno wasn’t giving in, and neither was Mark. You tried to get away from his fingers, core already sensitive from your orgasm, but he began to stroke your pussy once more, making you shake your head. Too much. The words were muffled around Jeno’s length, but they seemed to get the idea. “Just a bit more, baby. Tap me if you want to stop.”

Your hands in place, you let Jeno finish inside your mouth, cum leaking from the edges of your lips even as you swallowed diligently. “What a good omega.” Jeno cooed as you fell forward onto your hands, Mark finally releasing you. “Fuck, that was so good.”

“We’re not done yet, honey.” Your head whipped up, looking at Jeno towering over you, cock now hanging limp. “You haven’t taken your pretty boy-toy yet.”

Meeting Haechan’s eyes, you suddenly felt self-conscious at the way you were – skirt half up your ass, wet thighs and chin, a true testament to how much you had been used. Your eyes travelled to the unmistakable tent in his pants, dawning on you that he wanted you too. “H-Haechan.”

“Should’ve just told me you wanted me, baby? Do you know how many times I wanted to just bend you over and fuck you until you begged me to stop? Now I know what a perfect slut you are…”

“Fuck, Hyuckie…”

“Oh, baby.” He began to unzip his pants, hazelnut skin illuminated in the dim lights as you looked up, crawling over shakily. “Tell me what you want, sweetie.”

“Want you so bad. So…s-so much…”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes rolling and crossing his arms across his chest, much to your dismay. “Seems like you don’t want me that bad.”

“No, fuck, I do, I do, I-“

You felt Jeno’s hand land on the skin of your bare ass, making you flinch and look behind in surprise. “Go beg for cock, baby. I know much you need it. Don’t care who’s it is, do you?”

“N-no, I care, I do.” You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt frustrated, feeling like you were being teased unfairly. “I need all of you, please, please.”

“Use your words.” Mark’s voice was stern, unwavering, making you squeeze your eyes shut. You felt blood rushing to your head, impairing your ability to think.

“I felt alpha’s cockhead tease my entrance, and I sunk onto his thick length, crying out as I did. I felt so fu-“

“Oh my god, no, stop. Stop.” You tried getting up, but your legs wobbled, making you stumble forward ironically onto Haechan, his hands now on the sides of your arms, steading you. “You alright? What is that?”

“It’s the fucking fic, oh my god.” In the heat of the embarrassment, you hadn’t noticed Haechan drag you onto his lap, letting you hang your head over one shoulder as you buried your face in your hands. “So embarrassing.”

“Another man’s cock, possibly a beta, pushed inside me with my alpha. Nails dragging against my alpha’s muscular back, I cried, saying it was too much, the stretch ripping me apart, but alpha held me down, shushing me. Pain turned to pleasure and I threw my head back, letting my release spray all over the two men, passing out as soon as I did.”

“Holy shit. I hadn’t seen that part.”

“Yeah, it’s part two. She wrote that last night. Probably too horny to go to sleep, were you, baby?” Your tear-streaked face now facing Jeno, you shook your head. “No. I wrote it-“

“Don’t talk back to me. If you want to stop, we’ll stop. But don’t stop because you’re shy. Tell us what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, _. Don’t let us kinkshame you.”

Haechan now sucking on the thin skin of your neck, you gasped, eyes fluttering and your bare pussy now resting on his clothed bulge. “Fuck, uh, need to be fucked, filled, with both of you. Take another in my mouth, please, fuck, I wanna cu-“

“That’s better, slut. Begging to cum like the whore you are, rutting against him like a little bitch in heat. Go ahead, ride him. Do it properly or you’re not cumming again.”

Your hands scrambled for the zipper, Haechan throwing his head back as his hard, long length sprung out of his fly. He groaned and grabbed the back of your neck, squeezing hard as you pumped him impatiently. “Don’t tease.” Lifting yourself up, you aligned your soaking core to his tip, moaning in staccato as you let gravity let all of him be sucked inside you. “H-Hyuck, oh, fuck, so tight.”

He readjusted his hips, making your hair fall in front of your eyes and your hands slam, splayed out onto his upper chest. “Ah…” You moaned as you rode him, feeling every inch pound your insides, tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. Haechan guided your face to his and slammed his lips onto yours, letting your moans escape into his mouth.

Leaving love bites on your collarbone, Haechan dragged one hand under your shirt, rolling the ends of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. “H-Haechan, oh, wait-“ You cried out as he pinched the end, not hard enough to be excruciating, but enough to be uncomfortable enough to make you cry out, letting some of his length slip out. “Fuck! I’m sensitive, please.” You heard him shush you, your whines lost amongst the sounds of skin slapping skin as you rode him diligently, trying not to slow down as he played with your chest. “Just felt you squeeze around me, good fucking girl. You like having your body played with like a little brat, hmm?”

Jeno pulled your head back by your face, Haechan releasing your left nipple with an agonising pull, making you cry out. Bringing your upper body back to meet his, he wrapped one arm around the bottom of your stomach, firm and unforgiving. “You wanna take alpha too? Hmm?”

Incoherent sounds left your mouth as you felt Haechan’s cock slide out of you, tingling from the closeness of your orgasm. You felt a sharp smack at your core, making you arch your back. “Haaah…fuck! Yes, yes, s-sir!” Trying to shut your legs on impact, you felt Haechan pry them open again, and, with Jeno tipping you forward, you let him slide back in. Haechan wrapped one arm around the back of your shoulders, another on your lower back, pushing you down on him.

“Hghhh, alpha, please…” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for anymore, your voice sore from all that had happened already. Feeling Jeno’s massive bulb press against your core, your breath quickened. “Ah, fuck, what if it doesn’t fi-oh, ah…” You and Haechan moaned in unison, feeling the tight space get even tighter as Jeno pushed inside, inch by inch.

“Fuck, my little omega takes cock so good.” Tears ran freely down your cheeks, the stretch borderline unbearable but addictive. Your muscles sloppy, you gasped. “I’m so stretched out, alpha, please, can’t move…”

“Shh, you just lie there, baby, and cum when you need to, okay?” Jeno’s voice suddenly soft, you felt something warm spread across your stomach. “Yes, y-yes, alpha, trust you, wanna be good f’you, ah…” You cried softly as Jeno started sliding slowly in and out. “So good, alpha, so good, please, fuck me, oh god.” Jeno started picking up his pace, rendering you speechless, squeezing the back of Haechan’s neck as he jerked his hips up in sensitivity. “Oh my god, Haechan…” Burying your mouth into his neck, you felt a tap on your head as soon as you did, looking up in reflex. Haechan let go of your upper body, letting your hips roll against the two cocks now sliding in and out of you at a pace that was only getting faster. “Did you forget about me, honey?”

“N-no, Markie, ah…” Letting your chin rest against the arm of the sofa, Mark slid his cock easily down and out of your throat, letting the saliva messily drip all over his aching length. “Fuck, what a good cockslut. You think you can get me off again, hmm? Swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nodded, but a sharp smack to your ass made you shake and lose your balance, Jeno pulling you back onto his chest again. “Did you ask alpha for permission, brat?” You cried as Jeno pounded you ruthlessly, shaking your head and mumbling apologies in between moans. “What do you want, baby? Use your words. Or I swear to you I’m not letting you cum.”

“Mmm, wanna suck Markie’s cock, alpha, ah! And…swallow his cum, oh, fuck!” Haechan pushed his length harder into you as Jeno pushed your hips down. “Fuck, alpha, fuck, want you and H-Hyuckie to fuck me while I do it, please, please…” You sobbed as Jeno released you, seemingly happy with your words as he snapped his hips into you. “Oh my god…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your eyes, feeling Mark bringing your near his cock as the pleasure made your legs vibrate. “Hang on, baby. Cum with my cock in your mouth.”

“Alpha, cum, please!” You cried, voice disappearing as you choked around Mark’s thick length. Jeno tapped the back of your hips, mumbling something in support just as soon as you saw white, feeling your own juices spray uncontrollably and your hole constrict as you came around both of them. Haechan cursed as he filled you with his own thick release, Jeno pressing you down as he came into you seconds later. Mark used your mouth as you weakened gradually, muttering sweet praises as he shot his load down your throat, the bitter taste waking you out of your trance.

As you heaved, you wrapped your arms around Haechan, feeling multiple hands rub up and down your bare back. “That’s a good girl. Good job, baby.” You nodded, closing your eyes and drifting off, your body and mind well and truly spent.

∞

“Hey, you alright?” Chenle looked at you with a hint of concern, not clear whether it was directed at you or at his makeup that was now looking a little bit unusual. You shook your head with the tiniest movements, tapping his cheek again with a pale blush. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t move your head.”

“Fine. You just seem different today.”

“I’m okay. Just a low energy day.” Beside you, Haechan and Jeno shared the smallest side glance, Mark smirking at himself as he changed behind the mirrors.

“Big night?” Chenle smiled at you through the mirror as you scurried around the drawers, looking for the angled eyeshadow brush, his hands adjusting his hair to his liking. You sighed, a true muscle fatigue-likes feeling spreading through your body and getting worse with each client. You were actually so tired, and, unprofessionally, not hiding it very well.

Then again, you were probably doing something that would be considered generally much more unprofessional, so you didn’t let it bother you too much.

“You could say that.” You slammed one drawer a little too hard, apologising immediately to the drawer and then rolling your eyes in frustration and embarrassment. “I-I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back.”

As your heels clacked away, getting softer and softer, Chenle got up, letting the salon cape fall away from him. “What’s up with her?” He mumbled to no one in particular before walking away. Mark soundlessly nodded to Jeno and Haechan, a nonverbal assurance that he would be outside, and Jeno patted Haechan’s shoulder as left shortly after, leaving only Haechan in that small backstage room.

As Haechan stared at his reflection in the mirror, makeup done and hair only half, he opened his lips, letting some tension escape his body.

He thought about you.

How maybe his little white lie didn’t technically hurt anyone in the end.

Technically.

Technically, you were the one who got fucked (in a good way) and got the money for translating poison.

Technically, you did write it. Just not from scratch.

Technically, you were also into that.

But so was he.

He remembered how embarrassed he was when you first found out, and what you said to make him feel better.

“Oh Haechan, don’t worry about it. Don’t let me kinkshame you.”

How right you were in the end.

[d1s1ntegrated]

Your headcanons and fics are so real and true to me… Would it be possible to make a fic/ list of headcanons in a college/ school AU where shigaraki is weirdly obsessed with y/n ? please and thank you🙏

i had this as a draft and it got deleted </3 but YASSSSSS i love creepy shig! also sorry in advance...

to be seen (slight nsfw)

stalker!shiggy x friendly and slightly naive!reader oneshot

quirkless college au !

summary: shigaraki is obsessed with you. you like being his friend. mistakes happen.

cw: painnnnn, unrequited love, pining, stalker activities, masturbation mentioned, pervert mindset, language, slight mention of drunk sex, panty sniffing? is that what i call it????

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

shigaraki was your classmate in creative writing. he was a little reclusive, but you didn't mind. you just sat next to the guy (when he decided to show up to class anyways). what you knew about him was minimal, but oh, the things he knew about you. he had memorized your class schedule, he knew when your period started and ended. he knew when you were going out, and when you'd come back. he knew you lost your pens frequently, so he bought a pack for when you inevitably asked to borrow one from him. and licked them all, in hopes you'd chew on the ends like you usually do.

he never meant to get this bad, actually.

see, it all started when you were assigned a workshopping assignment for a story, so he invited you to his dorm to work on it. he wasn't prepared, you showed up ten minutes after you texted him. he didn't even have time to shower, he was still sitting in cum-stained sweats and his favorite (albeit a bit gross) hoodie. but you cared nonetheless, you just wanted to finish the work. so you sat in his bed in your little shorts as he perched at his desk and ogled.

after you left, he shoved his face in the small imprint on his mattress and came buckets to the mere idea of your ass on his sheets. the obsession grew from there. his lack of attendance turned perfect, punctual even. he said hi every fucking day, even when you weren't really in the mood to talk. you didn't mind the company, hell, he was nice enough and surprisingly smart for someone so...like him. he texted you, too. reminders about due dates, notes, etc. you usually just replied with a "thanks!" or "okay ty", but it was more than enough for him.

he asked to come to your dorm to work one day-he lied and said his ac was broken. you bit the offer anyways and he showed up right on time, papers in hand like a proud child showing off their artwork. this time, you were in basic sweatpants and a tank top. he didn't mind- you were on your period this week, he knew that. the idea actually made his toes curl in his converse. when you went to grab a snack, he jumped for the dirty laundry basket and snagged the first pair of panties he could find, shoving them hastily into his hoodie pocket. he went back to his dorm that night and jerked off with the soft cotton in his mouth, sucking up every ounce of you he could.

he couldn't get enough of you. you were a drug to him, a lethal one at that. he couldn't eat or sleep without the idea of you easing him. he couldn't cum to anything other than your social media profile and the little smiley faces you texted him.

when you skipped class because of a cold, he showed up at your door with hot soup that he spit in and the notes from that day's lecture.

on your birthday, he bought you a pretty pink cupcake and a new pair of headphones because yours mysteriously went missing.

when you left for home on winter break, he cried every night while jerking off because he missed you so badly. you were his only friend, his lover, his prized possession.

the next semester, he made sure his schedule was an exact replica of yours. even though half of the classes he didn't even need, or have interest in. but fuck, any reason to see you was good enough for him. he didn't want to take it too far, but he ended up there anyways. he started to bring you little gifts almost every day. a new notebook, a coffee, he even bought you a new water bottle because he was there when yours fell on the tiled floor in the great hall and dented to shit. even when you said it was okay and still functional, a new (and better) one was on your desk the next day, already full with ice water and a little purple bow on the top of it.

you didn't need to know that he was cumming on the things he brought, or shoving them into his mouth and "cleaning them off" lazily because he needed you to have him so fucking badly.

it got to the point where he was begging you to hang out every day after class, and you stupidly agreeing every night because you had nothing better to do. because you felt bad for him. even with his...faults, you found a comfort in him. he was just a really good friend, which is hard to come by in college.

so you played video games with him and went out for coffee and lunch dates because that's what friends do. you fell asleep in his bed while studying a few times and he never minded, because that's what friends do. you went home in his clothes one night because he accidentally spilt a drink on you and offered to wash your clothes with his laundry, because that's. what. friends. do.

nevermind the pictures he had of you asleep in his bed. or your ass when you bent over in building 130 to pick up your phone. or your tits pressed against the table from coffee date number 2. all in a little folder tucked away in a calculator app.

nevermind all the pairs of your socks and underwear, hair ties and used napkins, empty bottles, the sample size of your perfume, all shoved away in his dresser drawer.

nevermind the returned clothes you wore that you never did get to washing because when you went, all the machines were in use and he needed them back. that he also never washed.

shigaraki was a weird kid. but you were friends, in your mind. you were lovers eternal in his.

so when you dragged him to a frat party and got drunk with him, stumbling back into his dorm at 3am, it wasn't a big deal.

it wasn't a big deal when he kissed you, hard. because you were friends, lovers, dramatically doomed from the start because of two very different life paths. the kind of love story that ends with cardboard boxes and good lucks. it wasn't a big deal to you when you took his virginity, sloppy and intoxicated, because you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for a guy you met in class.

but it was a big deal, and it wasn't a mistake, not to him. it wasn't a mistake when he came inside of you, crying, repeating the worst three words known to those who just wanted to be friends. it was a big deal and it was a mistake to tell him you loved him too, not because it was a lie, but because you knew full and goddamned well what you had done to such a broken man like him.

he never deserved your kindness. he never deserved the taste of you. but you let him have it, and he would never let that go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

okay ouchie im sorry this was a beautiful prompt and i fear i brought the vibes sooooo down with this one. but i cant always write smut lads, sorryyyyyy!

i hope you enjoyed. also i hope i made this as stalker-creepy vibes as possible

i didnt wanna go full sicko mode w his stalker tendencies in this one bc in my mind, he just wants to be loved ;-;

thank you for the request and lmk if this one hits or not! i can try again if it doesnt spark joy lol

[towriteloveontheirarms]

My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

[anton-luvr]

hi!! love your works so i wanted to request a fic where y/n and her bf (riize member of your choice) of a few months are together and since it’s only a few months they are all sweet and cute, they didn’t really approach the idea of sex yet.. but he gets his first boner with y/n and at first it’s all awkward and shi but then it gets suggestive but they don’t go all the way yk because it’s their first approach to the topic. hope you understood the request and thank you in advance 😭💖

# CLOSER THAN EVER.

𖦹 bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff & HEAVILY suggestive 𖦹 note ; this is so anton coded no one can tell me otherwise... thank u anon!! its my first writing something like this and honestly,, i feel like this kinda sucks lol but i hope u like it :')

"Does this taste okay?"

Anton looks up from the bowl of ice cream he was holding to see you stretching a spoon of chocolate sauce towards him.

"It tastes kinda weird," you mumble, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But it's not expired yet."

Anton licks the sauce off the spoon, concentrating on its flavor.

"Okay, that's definitely weird." he agrees, wincing as he's met with a gross combination of sour and sweet. "We are not going to eat that."

Laughing at your boyfriend's reaction, you turn away to toss the bottle into the bin.

"Here, eat some ice cream." Anton suggests, getting a spoonful for you. "It takes the taste right out."

You hum happily around the spoon at the taste of the sweet icy treat, excited to eat more during your movie night later.

"I'm so glad we got vanilla flavor," you sighed. "It's so go-"

And all of a sudden, Anton's lips are on yours, cutting you off.

His warm tongue moves and licks against your cold lips, sending goosebumps all over your body at the sensation.

"Y-You had ice cream on your lips." Anton mumbles when he pulls away, face burning red.

You're blushing too, but you laugh, finding it adorable.

"Maybe just say you wanna kiss me next time, hm?" you tease, wrapping your arms around Anton's neck.

The ice cream is long forgotten when the both of you lock lips again, Anton's arms tight around your waist as he slowly backs you against the kitchen counter.

"You look so pretty today," he sighs, brushing your hair aside and leaning down to kiss your neck.

It blows your mind at how when you first met Anton, he had been a blushing stumbling mess. Always avoiding your eye contact, stuttering endlessly, and always turning crimson red at any form of physical contact.

But now here you were, eyelids fluttering shut in pleasure while his teeth grazes softly against your neck. He doesn't stop even while leading you to the sofa, letting out a soft grunt when you straddle him.

Now, with the both of you heading into the eighth month of your relationship, you've achieved your fair share of milestones.

Starting off with the basics like holding hands and cuddling, you were now at the stage of hot and heavy makeouts, but nothing past that.

And since neither of you had any experience, both of you agreed to take things slow.

"When we're both ready," Anton had said back then to you, lips prettily swollen and panting from your first makeout session.

You wonder where he stands on the matter now, when something snaps you out of your thoughts.

Anton had stopped his actions, his flushed and shy face buried in your chest instead. "W-What's wrong?" you ask, dazed and confused as you run your hands through his hair.

He doesn't say anything, merely shifting around a bit to let you feel it.

You gulp when you do, eyes widening at your boyfriend.

"Is that- Are you...?" you mumbled, flustered.

He burns in embarrassment as he nods, nervously biting his bottom lip. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to... do that, you just look so pretty today and you sounded so-"

It's your turn to cut him off for tonight, kissing him strongly on the lips.

"Don't apologize, it happens." you whisper.

"And... I can help you out if you want?" you offer, looking at him warily.

Anton's eyes widen at your question, and he manages to muster a small "Y-Yeah, please.", desperation heavy in his tone.

He's barely gotten the words out of his lips when you kiss him again, hips experimentally moving against his.

The curly haired boy lets out a loud whine at this, head falling back on the sofa, and you've gotten your green light.

Airy whimpers and moans slowly fill your living room as you continue, the pleasurable friction making Anton's head spin while you kiss each other messily and noisily.

Adrenaline courses through you while his hands feel you up, newfound pleasure burning like fire at wherever his fingertips touched.

"F-Feels so good," Anton pants, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

He starts leaving hickeys again, the sharpness of his teeth and warmth of his tongue adding on to the pleasure. "Don't stop, please." he whines.

And so, you don't.

The movie becomes the last thing on your minds as you spend the rest of the night just like that; lips connected, hands exploring each other, repeated confessions of love, and hearts racing - closer than ever.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

[hazbinwhoree]

hiii!! this is actually a silly request. but how about the reader was having their first day of period and adam, with no malicious intention at first, tries to help his them by massaging the area slightly bellow her belly. but as he was taking his time, the reader felt something else and stopped adam out of panic. adam then quickly got the idea that the reader felt a different type of 'pleasure', which he then teases the reader about it.

this can be just a mere suggestive headcanons about how he would respond during reader's period or be a full blown bloody smut (IF YOU DONT MIND OF COURSE). either way you can also ignore this request if you dont like the idea. i love u thank u for being my trusted adam contents supplier

A/N: Happy to be your trusted Adam content supplier lol

Period Sex

Your cramps are terrible, as they usually are

You and Adam were cuddled up on the couch watching Bob’s Burgers

Adam’s hand comes to rest on the area right above your crotch and right below your belly button

He begins to gently massage, hoping to ease some pain

He did more than ease some pain, as his actions sent shocks of pleasure through you

You whimper, hand flying to his to still it

Adam’s worried he hurt you until he looks at your face

“Oh, does that feel good?” he teases

You scowl at him

“You know what’s supposed to help cramps?”

You know where this is going

“Sex.”

“We are not fucking having sex– oh~”

He presses on that sensitive spot and you question your previous stance

“Come on, babe, let me ease your pain.”

He’s fucking persuasive

“It’ll make a mess–”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s bloody and gross–”

“I don’t care.”

“What if it hurts my stomach more?”

“We’ll stop.”

You’re skeptical

“Come ooon, I’ll lay a towel down, it’ll be fine,” Adam whines

“...Fine.”

“Really?”

He is so excited

Grabs a bunch of towels from the linen closet

Makes a nest of pillows on the floor before covering them all with towels

Scoops you up and plops you down into it

Knows that if this goes well, he’ll no longer have to wait for sex once a month because you’re on your period

And well it goes, albeit bloody and messy

But Adam likes messy

When you’re done, you use a towel to wipe your thighs off

“You’re cleaning this up.”

[guided-by-stars]

I have so many thoughts about the depiction of queer characters in Stars and Time and I fear I will never be able to express all of them…let alone coherently. One of the things I think about the most is the variety in aroaspec experiences represented. As someone who is aroaspec myself, it means so very much to me.

Mirabelle is very clearly romance and sex repulsed! She says explicitly that “doing things” with others is something she would never ever be able to bring herself to do, and that the idea of it is gross, and being in a romantic relationship would make her uncomfortable and is not something she would want to do at all. That she hates thinking about the idea of it for herself. She doesn’t merely not desire/care for it, she’s repulsed by the very idea of doing any of it. With that being said, she loves to read about romance! She finds it fun! Thinking about people in her life being together is cute to her.

On the other end of the “idgaf about romance” side of the party, Odile says that she hasn’t felt romantic love in many years. That she doesn’t care to. It’s not a priority for her. In a world where romance is seen as the end goal, something to strive for, she just…couldn’t care less. At the same time, the romantic desires she has felt in the past are also non-normative! She didn’t merely crush on a rival, or whatever most “enemies to lovers” media depicts, but she desired someone she hated!

Siffrin, the other ace of the party, differentiates themselves from Mira every time the concept of sex or romance comes up. In the writing room, they initially see the "people doing fun stuff" drawings and looks at them with curiosity. In later acts, his curiosity turns into a sick feeling, and another important factor to point out is that Siffrin has always seen his desires as “gross” and “shameful”, and the longer he stays in the loops, the more disgusted he is with himself. When talking to Mira about the topic, he thinks to himself about how sometimes he wishes he didn’t feel romantic love. When relating to Mira’s lack of sexual desire, he expresses that he finds sex “weird”, which contrasts against Mirabelle’s much more harsh statement of sex being gross and awful. Clearly he’s not repulsed, at the least, but shares Mira’s lack of inherent attraction to others in that way. Still, there’s a curiosity there. It seems that he wonders what makes it something that others like so much.

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 3 That Distant Shore

Word Count: 15,977

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Summary: "The day has finally come where Amalia will get to leave the palace premises and explore around Oma Island alongside Yugo. However, much to their mutual surprise, it won't take long before it becomes apparent the island's landscapes won't be the only thing they'll explore today. Soon they'll learn more about themselves and each other, at the same time as they wonder if they truly know each other at all."

“So, you’re getting ready for your date?” Nora asked him from where she lay upside down on his bed, her feet dangling in the air as she munched on some snacks she snatched from the kitchen. 

How she didn’t choke on those from her position was beyond him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not a date!” Yugo snapped, rolling his eyes in annoyance at his sister’s insistence. He was looking at her from over his chair, his body facing the desk he kept in his room for last minute documents he had to look over. 

That was the downside of always being out and about, the stacks of paperwork that would inevitably pile up. 

Seriously, between the bureaucratic work and his sister’s antics at his expense, he really doubted he would live to a thousand years, at least in this lifetime. 

It was Nora’s turn to roll her eyes, an action which she made sure to emphasise. Leave it to Yugo to be in denial. Propping herself on his bed so she was sitting upright right after gobbling up her last snack, she flashed him a bored look. 

“Right, right. I always forget. It’s not a date.”

“Thank you.” Yugo puffed out his chest, glad his younger sister was finally seeing reason. 

“You’re just going to be adventuring around the island—one of your favourite things in the whole wide Krosmoz—alongside Amalia, whom I seem to recall you actually asked if she was okay with it, and sweating a Rogue’s whole bullet supply while you were at it; just the two of you. Yeah, it sure doesn’t sound like a date to me.”

Yugo pouted. He should’ve known it was a trap. 

“Well, it’s not!” He protested, even as he tried to busy himself with work to drown Nora’s sarcastic comments out. “Come on, Nora, I thought you were better than that.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She definitely was not above teasing her older brother about his painfully obvious crush on the pretty flower that got sent to him. His being in denial only made it all the more entertaining. So she had no idea what he meant about ‘being better than that.’

“Don’t play coy.” He told her sternly, swirling his body once again to point at her with an accusing finger and a serious expression on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be above all these ‘archaic notions meant to hinder positive interactions between members of the opposite sex such as the impossibility of men and women fostering fully platonic relationships’?”

Nora could only blink in disbelief. Once. Twice. Up to three times. Finally, she offered a slow, sarcastic clap, her tone flat. “Wow, I’m impressed. Where did you get all that from, Yugo, by memorising Simone de Bouftou’s works?”

Yugo just rolled his eyes, turning his focus back to signing documents and away from his annoying sister. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about all that?”

“No way!” She replied, waving the mere notion off with a psh! sound. “Of course men and women can be just friends. I mean, look at me, I’m only friends with most guys I know!” Then, she muttered to herself, “And I say most because the remaining guys are my brothers and that would be gross.”

Yugo wisely chose not to comment on how she wasn’t exactly interested in pursuing a relationship with any man in the first place. 

Ignoring his train of thought, she went on, undeterred. “Doesn’t change the fact that you and Amalia are going out on a date, though.”

Exhaling deeply from his nose, Yugo all but threw his pen down at the desk, causing a little thud! to echo around the room before it began to roll around the wooden surface it was in. He’d better be realistic and accept he would not get any work done, not with Nora this intent on getting on his nerves today. 

After solving Amalia’s little problem with her room—though, truth be told, she solved it entirely by herself—, the Divine Doll had timidly asked him if they could explore Oma Island some time soon, confiding in him her own desire to learn more about the world around her. A desire Yugo himself was intimately familiar with. 

In a moment of weakness, despite his better judgement, Yugo had given in, relating to her feeling of solitude with nothing to do and nowhere to go. And because he was a man of his word, he had been planning on the perfect escapade, writing down all the incredible places that could be found on the island his people now called home and deciding which ones they should start with. 

It wasn’t like he was excited, or anything of the sort. But, for whatever reason, the gods had entrusted him with a Sadida Doll, and this would apparently be Amalia’s first time seeing the outside world since her creation. The least he could do was make it worthwhile. 

And yes, maybe he had been a little nervous when he asked her if she wanted to go, and maybe the fact that he asked her at all would raise a few eyebrows among the most old-fashioned people, who would immediately label it as a date. But it wasn’t a date! There was no romantic intent behind it, he had only been trying to come up with the perfect plan because this would be Amalia’s first outing and he wanted her to enjoy herself, and he had only asked because…

Well, because asking a person if they wanted to do something rather than just assume and force them to do anything was just common decency!

As Shinonomé said, Amalia was their guest, not their prisoner. Even if they would be keeping an eye on her until the reason for her arrival became clear, they would still treat her with the respect a Sadida Doll deserved. 

And if asking her to join him on a little walk around the island counted as an adventure for her and made her smile like she had won a bet against Ecaflip, then he would gladly plan as many adventures and little escapades as she—

He was getting sidetracked! Shaking his head and with it those thoughts away, he couldn’t help but huff as he bit his lip, irritated both at Nora and at himself. But mostly at Nora. Sometimes he was sure her divine gift wasn’t bringing joy to their people, but to get on his nerves. 

“For the last time, it’s not a date! We’re just friends!” He threw his hands to his sides, desperate for his sister to finally listen to what he had to say. 

“What’s not a date?”

Their heads perking up at the sound of the new voice, both Yugo and Nora turned to face the newcomer with equally curious faces. Standing awkwardly in the doorway under their scrutiny was Adamaï, the round opening closing behind him. His brown irises flickered back and forth between his siblings and he had a stack of papers in his claws. 

Clearing his throat to dispel the sudden tension he found himself in, he thumped the bundle of paper on the table to organise them a little before handing them to Yugo. “Here, these are Qilby and Shinonomé’s reports on the new medicine they’re developing from some of Qilby’s plants. They want you to look through it and see if you can give them the go-ahead.”

The dragon’s discomfort only grew when a smile kept stretching over his twin’s face slowly. It was a little unnerving, to say the least. So, curling his tail around himself in unease, he braced himself for the worst. 

“What?” He asked flatly. 

“Adamaï, just in time!” Yugo jumped to his feet and hugged his brother tightly, patting him on the back. Not knowing how to react, all poor Adamaï could do was to awkwardly return the gesture. 

It wasn’t like he was adverse to receiving physical affection from Yugo, the two were undoubtedly close, after all; it was just that he had no idea what could have possibly prompted such a reaction from him. 

Already knowing he would come to regret ever opening his mouth, the dragon asked, “‘Just in time’ for what?”

Yugo broke the hug and gestured towards Nora, who had one eyebrow quirked and her face rested against her knuckles. “Ad, could you please tell Nora I’m not going on a date with Amalia?”

Oh, that actually explained so much. With a shrug, he turned to the magenta-clad Eliatrope, “He’s not going on a date with Amalia.”

The king threw his hands up in the air and his head back in triumph, blessing his lucky stars for having at least one decent sibling. “Thank you! See? There you have it, I’m not going on a date with Amalia!”

But Nora just hummed in response, her expression impassive. With the same stone-faced look, she turned to Adamaï, “And do you actually believe that?”

His answer was swift and devastating. “Not even for a second.”

“Adamaï!” Yugo screeched, bringing a hand to his chest in abject horror, the feeling of betrayal oozing from his pores. “Whose side are you on!?”

Ad just raised his claws up in surrender, though the smirk on his face made it plenty clear he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “Hey, you told me to tell her you don’t have a date with Amalia; you never said anything about saying that and meaning it.”

The Eliatrope King opened up his mouth to protest, and promptly shut it. His face contorted itself into a grimace as he tried to refute his twin’s logic, but had to resign himself to accepting he had been had. 

Instead, all he could say was, “I hate you.”

The dragon smirked, “Love you too, bro.”

Their attention was drawn back to the only girl in the room when Nora made a show of clasping her hands loudly. She was still on Yugo’s bed, which creaked under her weight, seated in a lotus position as she crossed her arms and sent her king an infinitely smug look. 

“There you have it, you’re going out on a date with Amalia. End of the story.”

She had to refrain herself from rolling her eyes to the back of her skull when Yugo insisted on contradicting her, wagging a finger in the air for added effect. 

“No, no, no.” He shook his head very slowly and deliberately, slowly closing the distance between them as he spoke. “By your own definition, a date is two people, in this case, a man and a woman, doing something they enjoy together.”

“That is correct, yes.” Nora decided to humour him, nodding along. 

“Given you won’t believe me even when I tell you there’s no romantic intent on my part—”

He could feel himself bristle at the infuriating look his two siblings exchanged right under his nose. But that didn’t matter; he went on. 

“—then I feel obligated to point out we’re not going alone!” 

That got her attention, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re not?”

“Nope.” Yugo shot back, popping the ‘p’ and thoroughly enjoying the white-haired Eliatrope’s perplexed look. “Adamaï here will be coming with us.”

Suddenly seeing his twin openly gesturing at him caused the dragon in question to start, before jogging up his memory and realising he had indeed agreed to such a thing. “Ah, that’s right. To help you keep an eye on Amalia and make sure nothing happens to her.” Then, he added, tilting his thought in confusion, “But didn’t you say she redecorated her entire room in less than five minutes thanks to her power over nature? Oma Island is overflowing with vegetation, if anything, she’s the one with the advantage here.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, just in case.” Yugo replied absently, his eyes strained on Nora’s smirking face. That… was not the kind of reaction he was expecting from her after such revelation. It was making his stomach churn, honestly.

For her part, Nora was supremely amused by this. Yugo might be their people’s greatest warrior and a good king, but he could be so utterly hopeless sometimes, especially when it came to romance. No wonder he had never once taken a queen in all his reincarnations, according to Qilby and Shinonomé. She had to suppress an impish giggle. That was what made teasing him on these matters so much fun. 

“I see.” She finally said, her smirk unwavering. “You’re right. You definitely do not have a date with Amalia.”

Exchanging cautious glances with Ad, Yugo dared to say, “Right? T-thank you for finally noticing—.”

“You have a date with Amalia, and a chaperone.” She finished, finally allowing the full scope of her amusement to show on her features. 

Yugo’s whole posture slumped, a vexed pout on his lips. He could only blame himself, he really should have seen that one coming. 

Letting out a heavy sigh as he straightened himself up slightly,  he pinched the bridge of his nose in vexation. “For the last time, Amalia and I are just friends!” He groaned, throwing his arms to the side. “Why do you all insist I have feelings for her? You and Chibi tease me to no end, Efrim accuses me of letting her cloud my judgement, Qilby… I have no idea what he does or what he thinks, as always…”

Nora pretended to think for a second, she was about to open up her mouth when—.

“Um, maybe because you make it so painfully obvious?”

Everyone turned to the origin of the voice, coming face-to-face with a very smug-looking Qilby leaning against the doorframe. Yugo really couldn’t tell if he didn’t notice because he was so engrossed in the conversation or because their doors were too quiet. Which was ridiculous, to be honest. It wasn’t just a large rock shuttle in the middle of the room, it even lit up with wakfu every so often!

Seriously, their children didn’t even need nightlights to ward off monsters in the dark. The doors were more than enough!

“Okay, never mind.” Yugo said, his tone flat. “I know exactly what Qilby does…”

“You would if you actually used your time as a king should and read through our reports.” Qilby pointed out matter-of-factly as he strutted into the room, unperturbed by the sour look on his brother’s face. 

“For once I agree with you, dear brother.” Nora said sweetly, too sweetly. The way she leaned forward with her head resting over her intertwined fingers was a clear sign of how much she was enjoying watching her king squirm.

“I would've been done with these documents about an hour ago if you didn’t keep on distracting me.” Yugo protested weakly. 

His siblings were not having it, however. 

“No, you would have not.” They all deadpanned in unison.

Joining his little sister on the bed, which creaked under the added weight, Qilby stretched, passing his arms behind his back with a loud pop! Mirroring Nora’s devious smirk, he asked, “Why are we talking about Yugo’s obvious crush on his precious flower now?”

Purposely ignoring his twin’s frantic gesturing not to say a word, Adamaï took the liberty of explaining things. “Because they’re going adventuring today.”

“Seriously, Ad. Whose side are you on?!” Yugo scoffed as he threw his hands to his sides, incredulous. “And you deliberately left out the fact that you’re coming with us.”

To his chagrin, his dragon twin simply shrugged. “It’s not like my presence is going to change much.”

“Ah, I see. So this is a date with a chaperone.” Qilby interjected, stroking his braided beard with interest. 

“That’s what I said!” Nora exclaimed, before breaking down into uncontrollable laughter.

With a pensive hum, the eldest Eliatrope continued. “You know, this reminds me of our 168th reincarnation. You used to ask Adamaï or Chibi to chaperone for you on your dates with Dydda. Although, that had more to do with the fact that her father was very overprotective, rather than you being in denial.”

“What do I have to do to get it through your skulls that there’s nothing going on between Amalia and I? And I’m not in denial.” Yugo sighed, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. He thought best not to point out how, unlike whoever this Dydda girl’s father was, he most likely had nothing on a literal god.

Or maybe he should point it out. It was incredible how easily they all forgot the real reason behind Amalia’s presence in their lives. 

“Oh, denying your denial. That’s a bad sign.” Qilby whispered conspiratorially to Nora, who nodded wisely. He purposely made his voice louder than it should be as he did so, loving every single second of seeing his younger brother twitch uncomfortably in his place. The smirk returning to his face as he basked in the glory of his youngest brother’s less than amused expression, he smugly added. “If you’re not interested in our dear doll, why is it that you’ve been choosing to blow off training with our siblings to practise all by your lonesome right in front of her room, hm?”

Nora’s bright pink eyes lit up in realisation before setting on him like feral, starving Bow Wow staring at a bone. “That’s right! Ever since Amalia arrived, you barely let yourself be seen around the training grounds! Only when we need to tutor our elite guards in training.”

Eyes widening at the accusation, Yugo was convinced his heart just stopped. Choking on air, he had to discreetly thump his closed hand over his chest to get it to start pumping blood again. 

He cleared his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “...I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He hated how that sounded painfully unconvincing even to his ears. 

Qilby just rolled his eyes. “Please, Yugo. Need I remind you I remember everything that’s ever happened since the moment we were born, millennia ago? Whenever you like someone, you can’t help but show off in front of them. And since right now training is your best option to flex that divine physique of yours… Well, you do the maths.”

The Eliatrope King could feel his face heating up at the accusation. And worst of all, the eldest Eliatrope wasn’t exactly wrong. It had been a while since he went to the training grounds with his siblings. Doing his own routine at the back of the palace, where Amalia’s balcony was located, had sort of become a routine for the both of them by now. 

If he was being honest, that development hadn’t been intentional on his part. In fact, it all started because his siblings blew him off first. They had been planning on practising some group formations in case the Twelvians sent more warriors after them, only to then be forced to spend a good half hour waiting for them. It wasn’t until Shinonomé soared right above him and noticed him all by his lonesome that he was informed their siblings all had urgent matters to attend to and would not be able to train that day. 

From an outsider’s perspective, it would have been ironic that the king, who was supposed to be the busiest person of all, was also the only one who had found time to do some physical exercise. However, Yugo’s position as their people’s greatest warrior also justified he dedicated some time of his day, every day, to honing his skills to remain sharp and battle-ready. 

So with nothing better to do and not feeling like forcing their guards-in-training to clean after one person’s mess, he decided he could use some change in scenery. Only problem was he forgot his usual spot away from everyone else currently housed the Sadida Doll he already went out of his way to keep a strictly platonic relationship with. 

And it worked! It really did. Amalia didn’t try to convince him to take her as his bride or even bring the subject up at all. She was mostly content with letting herself be dragged around the palace and making idle conversation with him. Yugo actually wondered if she would ever drop the anvil on him, seeing how restless she looked from time to time…

Looking back, it was painfully obvious to see the Divine Doll really needed to get out more. 

The point is, he had been successfully keeping her at arm’s length, too wary of the gods’ true intentions behind sending her to them to risk putting his kingdom in jeopardy. But when he caught her staring intently at his display of physical prowess for the first time, her brown, doe-like eyes glimmering in awe and the softest blush dusting her cheeks, he felt something powerful, and a little bit cocky, surge within him. 

What began as mere attack drills became an elaborate choreography that ended up leaving him more winded than when he actually fought the World of Twelve’s champions. But the shortness of his breath, the accelerated heartbeat echoing in his ribcage, or the soreness in his muscles were nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline and pride he felt upon seeing Amalia’s reaction. 

Before he knew it, that one-time thing had become an addictive habit he had trouble even envisioning himself breaking. 

And apparently, his siblings had taken notice of it too. 

There was no way he was going to tell all that to them, of course. Especially not when Qilby and Nora were still laughing uncontrollably at his expense, their laughing fit having started roughly at the same time he froze on the spot at the bespectacled Eliatrope’s accusations. With a tsk! sound and a long-suffering roll of his eyes, he turned his back to them long enough to grab his cloak from his coat stand and put it on, pulling his hood over his head as well. 

With a nod of his head, he motioned for Adamaï to follow him. Purposely ignoring the way his actions finally broke Nora and Qilby out of their little trance, he pointed at the floor, his palm glowing a bright blue, and opened up a portal big enough to fit both him and Adamaï.

“Whe—...Where are…where are you going?” Nora managed to ask in between wheezes, wiping a tear away. 

“To pick Amalia up to show her around. At this rate, rather than take her on an adventure, I’ll take her to bed.” He replied simply, seemingly not realising how that sounded. 

As Qilby’s laughter intensified, a predatory grin made its way to the pink-eyed Eliatrope’s lips. “Hey, if you don't want to, I’ll more than gladly—.”

And just like that Yugo and Adamaï were gone. 

“Rude.” She scoffed. 

.......................................................................................................................

Amalia was practically buzzing with excitement. Today was the day she’d manage to leave the palace premises and explore Oma Island for a bit! Oh, she wasn’t sure this day would ever come. She had replayed the moment Yugo proposed the idea to her in her mind over a million times already.

It had been shortly after she admitted to disliking her room and receiving his and Chibi and Grougal’s help with redecorating the space more to her liking. That morning, not long after the little routine they had going on where Yugo trained in front of her balcony and she got to enjoy the show, he had come knocking on her door. 

Amalia still couldn’t make sense of how uncomfortable he looked when she offered him to come inside, only for him to vehemently, albeit politely, reject her offer and remain rooted to the spot beside the door frame even as the shuttle closed behind him. But she chose to shrug his weird behaviour off—honestly, between Yugo’s mercurial moods, where one second he seemed completely at ease only to tense up at the next; Nora’s strange comments both about them and about her, especially her; Efrim’s glares; and Qilby’s indecipherable expressions, the Divine Doll was really beginning to think what she considered odd behaviour was just culture shock. For all she knew, that was completely normal for Eliatropes!

So dropping the matter for the time being, she focused instead on what he was trying to tell her. Apparently he wanted them to have breakfast together. That in itself was great. Given how their interactions usually went, they would most likely walk around the palace afterwards. Maybe she could try bringing the subject of looking around the island up again?

Amalia dropped her porridge-filled spoon into her bowl the moment Yugo beat her to the punch mid-breakfast and suggested exactly that, her eyes as wide as the saucers carrying sweets, cold meats, fruit, and many other food options on the table. Then she proceeded to almost knock an unprepared Yugo out of his chair when she threw herself at him to hug him as thanks. Only to let him go immediately after because, judging by the way his whole body tensed up at the contact and how the maids and servants were staring at them owlishly, it seemed Eliatrope culture wasn’t big on public displays of affection. 

Which Amalia couldn't help but find ironic since their portal-making abilities usually meant their concept of personal space was a little faulty. 

Nevertheless, once she had released him and he recovered from the shock—Amalia told herself then to be more careful in the future; she was no longer with her family and couldn’t afford to be overly touchy-feely—, Yugo admitted to having been thinking over what she said about leaving the palace and how he reached the conclusion that she was right. Oma Island was her home now, it’d be better if she knew her way around it. 

And so, the rest of their breakfast was spent picking the perfect date and with a pleading Amalia begging a tight-lipped Yugo to tell her more details of their first ever adventure together. But even the doll’s best efforts were futile. He just told her to be ready when the day came and to let him worry about the rest.

And now that the day had finally arrived, she was so beyond herself with joy, no matter what she did, she just couldn’t stay still while she waited for Yugo to arrive to pick her up. 

That wasn’t an exaggeration. She had tried sitting on the floor and caressing the vines and ferns she’d grown the other day. She laid on her bed upside down and with her feet dangling in mid-air as she propped her head with her hands, or with her back to the wall as her eyes followed the lines composing the murals on the walls, trying to make sense of them. She had spent hours in front of her vanity, brushing her hair and trying to look her best. But nothing! 

As she frantically paced around her room like a caged animal, she couldn’t help but think Xelor seemed intent on making time go by more slowly today. 

She shuddered at the memory of her brief interaction with the time god, when her father introduced her to the other gods before sending her to the World of Twelve. Overall, he seemed nice, but she just couldn’t get over having to look him in the chest to look him in the eye…

Watching someone’s pectorals squinting was a scarring experience she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. And when his mouth curled over his stomach? Amalia was the one who didn’t have the stomach for it. 

In a twist of fate, it was as if she had accidentally summoned Xelor himself and got him to do his job. For just as she got lost reminiscing, a knock on the windowpane leading to her balcony broke the Divine Doll out of her thoughts. 

With a gasp, she abruptly stopped pacing. Her eyes trained on the windowpane, she commanded two of the vines on her wall to open it with a gesture of her hands. She could only squeal in equal parts delight and excitement at the sight before her, before rushing out to the balcony without a second thought. 

Hovering over the railing were Yugo and his dragon brother Adamaï, the latter having spread his draconic wings to achieve such a feat. While Adamaï’s posture, with his arms folded over his chest and his batting wings, remained more guarded than Yugo’s, whose body was mostly hidden by his usual blue cloak, the two of them still wore pleasant smiles as they waited for her. 

Her eyes flickering down for a fraction of a second, she couldn’t help but smile appreciatively when she noticed they were hovering on purpose just so they could avoid stepping on her vines. That was so thoughtful of them.

“Yugo, you’re really here!” She exclaimed happily, her brown eyes glimmering in delight as she got closer. 

The Eliatrope chuckled at her reaction. “Well, I did say today I’d take you out.” He turned to his twin. “Isn’t that right, Adamaï?”

“I wasn’t there when you agreed on the specifics, but if that's what you said you would do, then the least you can do is hold up your end of the bargain.” He shrugged, not too concerned. 

The exchange causing her to remember her other guest and flush at her lack of manners, the Sadida Doll rushed out to rectify her mistake. “Oh, Adamaï! I’m so sorry, it’s great to see you too. We really haven’t had the chance to interact more.” She sheepishly cupped her cheek with one hand. “Uh, forgive me but, um… why exactly are you here?”

Despite how obvious it was he would only be third-wheeling on these two’s not-a-date (as Yugo insisted on calling it), Adamaï couldn’t help but chuckle at the doll’s innocent, albeit genuine, question. He had just opened his mouth when he sensed his brother’s voice inside his head, begging him not to embarrass him like the rest of their siblings would. 

As tempted as he was to screw with his twin and tell Amalia Yugo was just so worried about today going well and ensuring her safety, he specifically sought him out and chose this very date—the one day all week Adamaï didn’t have business of his own to tend to, mind you—to take her out, he thought better of it. 

On the one hand, it was true their siblings had been giving their king a lot of grief over the Amalia topic, and even though Yugo liked to act like everything was fine, Ad had been by his side since back in their Dofus days. And he knew Yugo really didn’t like to have his intentions with Amalia questioned or distorted for a cheap laugh, just like he knew Efrim’s obvious hostility and distrust towards her had really rattled him. 

Whenever the members of the Council of Six had tenser interactions than bickering, it was very serious. If they weren’t careful, their people were sure to find out, and putting them further on edge given everything that happened with the Twelvians since they arrived to this world was the last thing they needed. 

All that, combined with Amalia’s expectant, innocent brown gaze, made it impossible for him to have some fun of his own. Perhaps the Divine Doll didn’t know what things like suitors or brides or marriages were, but it was clear to see there was something there when it came to her ease around Yugo. And the blue-and-white dragon couldn’t bring himself to risk toying with her feelings. 

With an almost imperceptible shake of his horned head over how soft he was getting, he finally said, “Yugo thought it’d be best if we both showed you around, since we know Oma Island like the back of our hands. After all, we are our people’s greatest adventurers!” He stated proudly. 

“But that’s amazing!” The Divine Doll gasped. “Is that really true, Yugo?”

“Oh, you’d better believe it!” He nodded, clasping a hand on his twin’s shoulder and sharing a mischievous grin. “There’s nothing Ad and I love more than living adventures and discovering new places. Why, just ask Chibi and Grougal; our old room used to be filled to the brim with countless souvenirs from all the places we visited!”

As the two brothers shared a laugh and began reminiscing on some past adventures, Amalia was grinning like a fool. She couldn’t help but frown in confusion and the mention of their ‘old room’, vague memories of her father and the gods mentioning the Eliatropes were not native to the World of Twelve but not much else echoing in her mind. But she pushed that away for the time being in favour of focusing on the revelation of Yugo and Adamaï being great adventurers. 

How great was that?! Oh, here she was, longing to see the outside world, and Yugo and Adamaï had already seen so much of it! She imagined herself journeying the world, meeting fascinating new people and places, and having the time of her life doing so. For some reason she couldn’t explain, knowing Yugo had already done it all before filled her with a strange but warm feeling, one she couldn’t quite bring herself to dislike. 

The King of the Eliatropes really was amazing. 

While they kept exchanging stories, the sight of Amalia watching them interact in interest reminded Ad they weren’t alone. Elbowing his brother discreetly to get his attention, he was about to suggest they leave when one look at the Divine Doll stopped him in his tracks. 

“Um, forgive me, Amalia. But do you really think it’s a good idea to go around dressed like that?” He said instead, pointing at her outfit with one claw. 

Yugo was about to reprimand his brother when he, too, took notice of what the wild beauty was wearing. “Now that you mention it… Ad’s right, Amalia. Don’t get me wrong, you look great,” he admitted sheepishly, scratching his cheek in discomfort and ignoring the pointed look his brother sent him, “but, uh… We’re going to be moving around a lot, so maybe that’s not the most comfortable thing?”

Her eyes narrowing in slight offence, Amalia glanced down at her outfit… And immediately looked right back up, embarrassed. She was wearing the very same dress she had on when first meeting Yugo—the very same thing she had been wearing since, in fact. The boys were right, while undoubtedly beautiful, it would not do for her first adventure. 

Luckily, she knew just what to do. 

“If you want, we could call the Royal tailor to fix you something up real quick—” Yugo’s words were silenced by the Sadida Doll’s raised hand. 

“There’s no need!” She said brightly. “I actually spent hours choosing this outfit. Wait, let me just…” As she trailed off, taking on a palm-up pose, a current of air carrying brownish, autumn leaves picked up, taking the primordial siblings by surprise and forcing them, not for the first time, to avert their eyes. They couldn’t help but wonder if this kind of thing would become a recurring occurrence with Amalia around. 

When the wind finally died down again and they got to take one look at the doll, Yugo could only vaguely make out the sound of an unamused Adamaï spitting out some leaves that got in his mouth as the sound of his own blood rushing to his ears was all he could hear. And the vision before him was all he could pay attention to. 

Just like she did when she first introduced herself, Amalia had altered her physical form, although, it would be more accurate to say this time she had changed her clothing. She no longer wore the regal leafy orange and green dress the king had come to associate her with. Instead, she had donned a pair of beige pants made out of some kind of vegetal fibre he would not be able to name. She wore a simple, strapless dirty white top that left her neckline, shoulders and upper back exposed, with a pair of long, matching wristbands reaching past her biceps covering her arms and the back of her delicate hands. Joining both her upper and lower halves was a dark brown band with a large, orange leaf that covered both her chest and reached down between her legs, the same colour as the new pair of anklets around her bare feet. 

As his eyes travelled all the way up to meet her face, Yugo noticed how this time she had gone the extra mile to change her hairstyle as well. While still held up by a high ponytail, Amalia had foregone the elaborate tiara and antlers, choosing instead for her wild mane to remain as natural as possible. Still, the new look accentuated the doll’s sweeter, more delicate aspects; her silky green hair was now flufflier, with her side-bangs curling around her face and her fringe reaching past her forehead—it it weren’t for the shape of it, her hair would have been long enough to cover her eyes.  

All in all, it was definitely a much more practical outfit, a much better choice to spend a day outdoors in. Except for the fact that the way it hugged Amalia’s very curve made it increasingly difficult for Yugo not to break his concentration and plummet to the ground. And it only got worse when Amalia began turning around herself, showing off her new look. 

Then it got so bad even Adamaï noticed his struggle and had to hurry to loop their arms together so he wouldn’t lose his balance. 

“What do you think?” Amalia, blissfully unaware of the reactions she caused, asked as she finally stopped turning. She preened at them, a hand to her chest while she placed the other on her hip. “I call this one my ‘adventuring outfit’; since, you know, I figured I could use something more practical if we’re going to be walking around.”

“Good call.” Adamaï commented, his lips curling in amusement. Dear Goddess, if Amalia managed to knock Yugo’s breath out without even trying, then he didn’t even want to think what she’d be able to do if she ever put her mind to it. Raising an  eyebrow at his awestruck twin, the dragon shoved him lightly to get him back on the World of Twelve. 

When Yugo looked at him questionably, he discreetly motioned towards Amalia with his head. Eyes lighting up in realisation, the Eliatrope King straightened up, clearing his throat. 

“A very good call indeed.” Yugo agreed, before his expression softened with his next words. “That outfit looks really good on you, Amalia.” He told her sincerely, causing a lovely pink to dust her cheeks as she met his eyes shyly. After a moment when neither of them said a word, Adamaï, who was growing increasingly annoyed at this kind of thing, elbowed his brother yet again to reboot him. With a small start, Yugo cleared his throat right before using his magic to conjure a considerably-sized portal up. 

Gesturing at it, and chuckling at Amalia’s awed reaction, he offered her his hand, “Shall we?”

Amalia squealed, her fists clenched excitedly over her face. Adamaï rolled his eyes at their antics, but couldn’t suppress a soft smile from stretching over his lips. 

With an excited nod, Amalia took Yugo’s hand and let him guide her into the portal. She was about to go on her first adventure and experience travelling through an Eliatrope portal all on the same day!

Could this day get any better?!

..........................................................................................................................

“I am never doing that again.” She stated somberly after getting over her last dizzy spell, the dry heaving having finally stopped. 

Amalia could only lament the state she suddenly found herself in. Her ponytail was frazzled, her gorgeous mahogany skin was about three shades paler, she felt so drained she had no choice but to slump her ballerina-like posture forwards as she used a nearby tree for support, and her stomach still performed some somersaults from time to time. It was taking everything in her power to keep it all down.

Or whatever remained, at least. 

Glaring at the twins over her shoulder, she snapped. “Couldn’t you have warned me beforehand?!”

Startled at the sudden flaring of her temper—except for an instance or two of haughtiness, Amalia had been extremely polite and mild-mannered since she arrived— Yugo and Adamaï shared a meaningful, silent conversation over who should speak and dare elicit her wrath further. The king’s lips formed a tight line when his dragon brother oh so helpfully pointed out it had been his idea in the first place and, moreover, Amalia was his bride; it was up to him to deal with her moods. 

His nostrils flaring in annoyance, Yugo mouthed a ‘She’s not my bride’ back before the Divine Doll’s impatient “Well?” snapped their attention back to her. She was still using the tree for support, but this time she had her back to it, leaning against it with her arms crossed and an expectant eyebrow raised. 

The Eliatrope could only fidget nervously with his fingers as he finally admitted, “Well, to tell you the truth… We had no idea it would happen? You kind of are the first non-Eliatrope or non-dragon person to ever go through one of our portals.” He finished with an awkward laugh as both he and Adamaï rubbed the back of their heads sheepishly. 

Amalia closed her eyes and clenched her fists to her sides, baring her teeth in aggravation, she could feel her veins about to pop. What started out as the perfect beginning for a perfect day soon became a much more revolting affair. Literally. 

At first everything had been wonderful. She was so engrossed in the sight of Yugo smiling down at her with his hand outstretched for her to take, she only barely registered she was moving at all. And she was so captivated once again by the feeling of their bare fingers brushing she almost didn’t realise she had stepped into the portal. 

Being inside an Eliatrope portal was both a fleeting yet lingering experience. For a short few seconds all the Sadida Doll could feel was her wakfu being shaken, as if her very essence was being transported and not just her body. In the blink of an eye, they had gone from standing on her balcony (or hovering above it), several stories high, to landing just outside the palace grounds. 

It was exhilarating.

Until it wasn’t.

Just as Amalia’s feet touched the ground, the shaking feeling she experienced while inside the portal multiplied tenfold, and not in a good way. Just like before it felt like her whole essence had been travelling with her and not just her body, now it felt like only her soul had made it out, leaving behind her body and, more importantly, her stomach. Only for it to come crashing down in a split-second and with it its contents. 

One second, Amalia was standing upright, marvelling at the world around her, and the next she was bent over some bushes, emptying her stomach as she mentally begged the surrounding vegetation to forgive her. Close behind her, she had two very worried siblings fuzzing over her and asking if she was alright. 

Thinking back to that embarrassing image, the wild beauty huffed through her nose and tilted her chin up, but ultimately chose to forgive them. After all, it seemed they had been as taken aback by her reaction as her. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t get anything on my clothes.” 

Releasing relieved sighs, it didn’t take long for Yugo to grow worried again. Approaching the Divine Doll slowly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? We could always just go back if you’re not feeling well.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Amalia screeched, scandalised, jerking back from his touch even if only instinctively. “I’ve literally only been out of the palace for, like, five minutes! We cannot just go back now!”

Adamaï came to his brother’s aid, who was looking at the Sadida Doll like a wabbit caught in the headlights. “We just don’t want you over-exerting yourself, Amalia. After all, you are our responsibility…”

The doll narrowed her eyes at the dragon’s words, not appreciating how that made her feel like a child. Rolling her eyes a little petulantly, she pressed on. “Guys, I’m fine. Really. Just determined to never go through another one of your portals unless my life literally depends on it.”

“That might be a problem…” Yugo admitted quietly. Looking at everything but Amalia, he explained. “The place I want to take you to is kinda far away, my portals are the fastest way to go.”

“And why didn’t you teleport us right there in the first place?” Amalia arched an eyebrow, confused. 

“Because our portals don't work like that, not exactly…” He replied, but didn’t explain further beyond a flustered, “Let’s just say it’s really hard to tell how far our portals will take you each time, okay?”

“Okay…” Amalia drawled, trying to make sense of it all, without much success. Giving up, she asked instead, her hands on her hips as she waited for an answer, “So, how do we get there? I mean, without portals.”

It was Adamaï who responded. He pointed a claw to the jungle behind her, his height over her forcing the Sadida Doll to crane her neck to follow his finger. “We could just go straight through the jungle, but that’ll take us longer, about an hour or tw—Urk!”

He was abruptly interrupted when, much to his and Yugo’s bewilderment, Amalia grabbed his face and brought it closer to hers, yanking his full body forwards and forcing him to blink blankly at her beaming smile. “Why didn’t you just say so?! This is perfect!”

“I’ ish?” He frowned, his voice a little muffled due to the doll’s hands tightly squeezing his cheeks. At the same time, Yugo asked, “It is?”

“Of course!” Amalia exclaimed, throwing her arms to her side and finally releasing Adamaï, who couldn’t help but stumble a little even though he managed to regain his footing before crashing face-first against the floor. Sweatdropping, the doll made a mental note to be more mindful of the Eliatrope people’s personal space in the future. “We’re supposed to explore Oma Island, right? What better way to explore it than going through the jungle?” Clenching her fists close to her body excitedly, she squealed. “Oh, I will finally be able to sense what the plants around here feel!”

And with that, she turned back around, making her way into the lush, tropical vegetation with an extra skip in her step. As she went deep into the jungle, leaving a wide-eyed set of twins in her dust, the two brothers could only share bewildered glances at what had just happened. 

Okay, so Yugo’s portals making her throw up was enough for the doll to lose her temper and almost tear them a new one, but being told she’d be walking around a humid jungle for hours on end was apparently cause for celebration? And she intended to gauge how the plants felt?

“Okay, what just happened?” Yugo eventually broke the silence, asking no one in particular. His face contorted into a confused grimace as he tried to make sense of everything. “About the only thing I can sort of understand is the plant thing. She is a Sadida Doll, after all. But everything else?!”

Shaking his horned head in surrender, Adamaï limited himself to clasping his hands over his brother’s shoulders as he leaned into him. “Don’t let it get to you, Yugo. It’s plain to see one of the few constants in the Krozmos is that women are confusing; doesn’t matter if they’re Eliatropes, dragons, Divine Dolls… There’s no hope for us to ever be able to understand these beautiful, enigmatic creatures.”

As Yugo nodded absently to his brother’s conclusion, definitely seeing some truth in his statement, Amalia’s shrill and slightly irritated voice carried over to them even from within the jungle, startling them out of their thoughts. “You guys coming or what?!”

For her part, it was the doll’s turn to be startled when, as she rhythmically tapped her foot against the ground, waiting for them; a flash of blue caught her by surprise and caused her to yelp as the Eliatrope King and his dragon brother stepped out of yet another portal. 

She still had a hand to her chest when she pouted at them. “A heads-up would have been nice…”

“Sorry.” Yugo apologised meekly, rubbing the back of his head. He frowned slightly when Amalia remained rooted to the spot, looking at him expectantly. “Is anything wrong?”

“Hm, let me see…” The doll pretended to think, bringing a finger to her chin. Then, she kept the charade up by pretending to light up in realisation. “How about you lead the way since you’re the only one who knows where we’re supposed to be going?”

“Oh, right. Follow me, as Ad said, it’s pretty much a straight line to the other side.” Yugo said, motioning with his hand for them to follow him as he came to lead their little group, Amalia and Adamaï picking up the rear—if it could even be called that when there were only three people in a group. 

Now that they were back on track, Amalia allowed herself a moment to just take it all in. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she allowed her senses to be overwhelmed by all the living beings around her. She could feel the ground beneath her feet, the soily earth slipping through her toes as she curled them in pleasure. Her heartbeat was one with the oxygen and carbon dioxide being transported by the trees and plants lining their path. The light breeze caressed her skin just like the leaves at the top of the trees, rocking in the wind.  And even if she couldn’t connect to them personally given her nature, she could even sense all the little critters coexisting with the vegetation in the area through their trunks and stumps and branches. 

Nature was at peace here. It was almost as tranquil as back in Father’s realm in Inglorium. 

Oh, it was wonderful. A thousand times better than the small glimpses she would catch from her balcony. And yet, a strange sensation enveloped her, making her realise it wasn’t anywhere near enough. There was something—something powerful—pulling her towards it, telling her there was so much more out there than just what she already knew. And right now, all she knew for certain was that she needed to find whatever that was. 

It was an impulse carved deep into her skin, so deep, she would only carve herself out if she attempted to remove it. For some reason, she just knew—

“I’ve been meaning to say, Amalia, I’m rather impressed by your shapeshifting abilities.” Adamaï’s words broke her out of her trance, forcing her to blink momentarily to regain her bearings. They were certainly deeper into the jungle, judging by the way the amount of sunlight filtered through the tree leaves had decreased considerably. 

“Ad doesn’t say that to just about anyone, you know?” Yugo interjected, smiling at them over his shoulder.

“Huh?” She blinked blankly some more, before realising what they were talking about. “Oh! Um, thanks, Adamaï. Although, in this case I’m not too sure if I would call it ‘shapeshifting’; after all, I just changed my clothes.”

“Have you been capable of doing that since the beginning?” He continued, tilting his head in curiosity. “I mean, every time we’ve seen you, you always wore the same dress…”

“I just saw no reason to wear a different outfit every day.” She shrugged, before gesturing at Yugo. “I also figured not wearing very distinct clothing was an Eliatrope thing; after all, Yugo and the rest always wear the same thing!”

“We do change clothes. It’s just we don’t really go overboard unless it’s an important occasion…” The king mumbled, feeling the need to defend himself. Averting his eyes sheepishly, it was Yugo’s turn to ask, “So you’ve been changing your clothes this whole time?”

“But of course! I actually change into some pyjamas every night. What, did you think I just went to sleep wearing that dress?” She laughed at the mere thought, the sound mirthful and airy. 

As she laughed, the brothers joining in, albeit theirs was more awkward, they shared meaningful looks. As Adamaï mouthed how Yugo should really summon the Royal tailor by now, all the Eliatrope could do was mouth an embarrassed ‘I know’ back. 

After that, the conversation shifted to all kinds of topics. Now that Amalia was done with her dizzy spell for good, she was back to being the sweet and curious girl Yugo had come to know these past few weeks. As the Divine Doll chided them good-naturedly on their high intake of meat, Yugo secretly hoped nothing soured her mood in a while. 

Don’t get him wrong! Amalia was really nice most of the time, and it was understandable she’d be upset after vomiting, but the stark contrast between the cute, kind doll he’d come to know and the surly, angry creature that managed to cow them both into submission by simply raising her voice had been terrifying. 

As he regaled Amalia with some of the things he’d seen on Oma Island—and promised to eventually take her to due to her incessant prodding and puppy-bow-wow eyes—, he stumbled into a large leaf getting in the way and slapping him in the face. The action causing his companions to laugh and giggle at his expense, the Eliatrope limited himself to rolling his eyes good-naturedly before summoning forth a wakfu blade to cut the leaf off with. 

That turned out to be the wrong move. 

With a pained, strangled sound, Amalia fell to her knees, clutching a hand to her chest as she heaved, gasping laboriously for breath. His face paling at the sight of her, Yugo was by her side in an instant, holding her shoulders with one hand while the other took one of hers as he brought her closer to him. 

“Amalia, what’s wrong!? What happened?!” He questioned, alarmed, looking her over for injuries of any kind. 

“The… the… the leaf…” She finally managed to gasp out, a bead of sweat pooling at her forehead as she glanced up at Yugo weakly. 

The Eliatrope furrowed his brow, not following. He sent his brother a questioning look, but a shake of his head was all he needed to convey he too was at a loss. 

“The leaf? You mean the one I just cut?”

She nodded, the mere action requiring some effort. 

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Adamaï. 

It took Amalia a moment before she could speak, needing to regain her breath first. After what felt like an excruciatingly long time, leaning her head against a willing Yugo’s chest to better support herself, she finally explained, “Technically, I’m a Sadida, as in, one of my father’s people… I’m connected to all plant life around me. I… I feel their pain.”

Yugo felt like slapping himself, connecting the dots. “So when I cut that leaf off to clear the way, you felt it yourself.” He finished for her. He shook his head, overcome by guilt. “Amalia, I’m so sorry… I swear, I didn’t know!”

The feeling of her hand resting over his chest, right where his heart was, startled him momentarily. “It’s okay.” She smiled weakly, but not any less sincerely or beautifully, and the Eliatrope felt his heart skip a beat at the action. “Now you do, and I’m sure you’d never do anything to hurt me, at least not intentionally.”

“Should we come back?” Adamaï was addressing Yugo as he asked this, but before his brother and king could reply, Amalia cut in:

“No, no! I’m fine, really! We can continue!” She insisted. 

“You practically collapsed because I cut a leaf.” Yugo felt the need to point out, the same protective instinct from last time with Chibi and Grougal resurfacing. 

“Father said I would be a little sensitive to those things at first, and that, while my connection to nature will never be severed, I will build an immunity to it over time so the pain isn't quite as crippling. But I’m fine, really. In a few minutes, it’ll be like it never happened. Please?”

All of Yugo’s willpower to deny her and return home evaporated in an instant at the sight of her begging, doe-like eyes, tugging at his very soul. 

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine…”

“Yay!” Amalia squealed, jumping to her feet. Well, at the very least, she did look better now. Then, she raised a finger as she winked at them. “Oh, just one thing. Leave the ‘plants in the way’ thing to me, okay?”

Glancing at each other, not  really sure how to proceed at this point, the primordial twins just shrugged, giving the Divine Doll their assent. “Sure, why not?”

For the rest of the journey to the other side, it was up to Amalia to take care of the obstacles in the way, at least, when they were caused by plants growing too close to the path. Her true nature as Sadida’s eleventh doll shone through whenever plants obeyed her every command. A mere flick of her wrist was all it took for leaves and vines to move to the side and let them pass. 

Each time it happened, Yugo and Adamaï could only look on in disbelief. It truly was incredible. They idly wondered if all Sadidas could do the same thing or if it was only Amalia.

.........................................................................................................................

About an hour had passed after their little scare, this time, it was Amalia who was regaling them with whatever few anecdotes she had of her time in Sadida’s Dimension. She was currently telling them about a squabble between two of her sisters and how Sadida had to step in to break it up—not unlike any regular parent would put a stop to their kids’ bickering—, when Yugo finally caught a glimpse of what he had been leading them towards. His face breaking into a huge grin, he swiftly turned around, stopping in his tracks, his sudden action causing his companions to subconsciously follow his lead. 

Blinking blankly, Amalia asked, “Yugo? Is everything alright?”

He nodded, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he would have liked, but that didn’t matter. He raised his hands as if that would help him convey what he wanted to say better. “Yeah, everything’s great, don’t worry. I just need you to do me a favour, can you do that?”

“Now?” Amalia questioned, tilting her head to the side. Behind her, Adamaï finally caught onto what his brother was up to and couldn’t help the small smirk that curled at his lips.  Of course, Amalia remained none-the-wiser. “Are you sure this is a good time? I mean, shouldn’t we wait until we arrive at whatever it is you want to show me?”

It was Adamaï who cut in, peering down at the doll as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “The place we want to show you will still be there even if we take a little longer. Otherwise, we would’ve been wasting our time from the moment you refused to enter another portal as long as you lived.”

“And that’s a promise I intend to keep…” She muttered to herself, dead serious. With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, she eventually gave in, raising her hands in surrender before placing them on her hips. “Okay, okay. What can I do for you, Yugo?”

“Close your eyes and cover them with your hands.” He replied simply and enigmatically. 

“What? Why do you need me to do that?!”

“I have my reasons.” He shrugged. Then, seeing the suspicion written all over her lovely face, he placed his hands on her shoulders, silently begging her to listen to him. “I promise, Amalia, this isn’t some kind of mean-spirited joke or anything of the sort; I’ll be guiding you all the way. But I need you to trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust me?”

Amalia opened her mouth, a retort on her lips, when the words died in her throat at the sight before her. Technically, it wasn’t much, just Yugo staring back at her. But there was something about the way he stared at her, the intensity behind his gaze, that made her breath hitch. She really couldn’t understand what was so important to pause their trek around the island and towards their mysterious destination, but at that moment, staring deep into Yugo’s dark brown eyes, she wanted to figure it out. 

Yugo had asked her if she trusted him, and at that moment she did. She trusted him more than any other person on Oma Island. A tiny voice deep inside told her it wasn’t just because she spent the most time with him, warning her that these things ran deeper than that, but she brushed it off for the time being. Too dazed to care. 

She almost didn’t even register her own lips moving when she said. “I do. I trust you, Yugo.”

The toothy grin he flashed her was enough for her cheeks to grow hot. 

The Divine Doll finally began to regain her senses when her eyes followed him as he moved to stand behind her. Before she could so much as ask what he was doing, Yugo simply took her by the arms and placed her hands over her eyes. A shiver ran down her spine as he whispered in her ear, “Now, close your eyes and no peeking, okay?”

“O-okay.” She gulped, letting herself be guided by the Eliatrope’s steady hands on her shoulders. 

As this all unfolded, Adamaï couldn’t help but watch the scene in astonishment. He knew he and their siblings liked to give Yugo some grief over his circumstances with Amalia and, by virtue of their close bond, the dragon knew things were much more complicated than everyone made it out to be, Yugo included. And yet, what he had just borne witness to proved there was so much more going on under the surface. 

While Yugo was a kind and caring individual, for it was in his nature, he was rarely as gentle with others as he was with Amalia. At least, not since his body and mind were finally in sync. And even then, as soon as his mind began to mature even as his body couldn’t keep up, Yugo began to reserve that softness of his to small, harmless creatures and children. 

The only exception was when their siblings had a problem and needed comfort. However, the thing with the Primordial Eliatropes and their dragons was they were all too proud to ask for help even when they needed it most. 

And yet, here he was, carefully guiding Amalia around, both his voice and touches the softest of caresses. A part of Adamaï couldn’t help but think his brother’s behaviour had less to do with the Divine Doll being a literal gift from the gods and more to do with something much deeper. 

Not like Yugo would ever admit it. 

“Ad, you coming?” He asked over his shoulder, breaking the dragon out of his thoughts. With a shake of his head to clear his ideas, Adamaï nodded and rejoined them in no time at all. 

Finally, they reached the edge of the jungle, their destination just up ahead of them. A smile stretching over his lips at the sight, Yugo leaned in a little closer to Amalia, whispering in her ear and finding some sick pleasure in the way a shudder still ran down her spine in response.  

“You can look now, Amalia.”

“Ugh, finally!” She exclaimed, wasting no time in removing her hands from her face and opening her eyes. Unfortunately, that proved to be a bad choice, for the moment she opened her eyes, they were assaulted by the sun’s brightness, causing her to hiss in pain and close them yet again. 

Oh, when would she learn? The same thing happened when she was born and she first saw her father and sisters! Unlike her bond with plant-life, the doll had a feeling that would never become any less excruciating. 

Muttering something unintelligible under her breath and rubbing her eyes, blinking to regain her eyesight, the doll’s gaze could finally discern what was before her. She let out a loud gasp. 

The sight before her was a vast expanse of blue, a giant body of water like no other reaching as far as met the eye and captivating her very soul. There was even a point in the horizon where the water and the sky converged, and thanks to the clear skies above them, it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. She remembered catching a glimpse of something similar from her balcony, but the view couldn’t compare to this. The water’s movement was rhythmic and hypnotic, forming waves, crested on top by wonderful, foamy white right until they crashed against the shore. 

Excitement coursing through her veins as she took it all in, starry-eyed, the doll couldn’t help but shift involuntarily where she stood, the action bringing her attention to the new sensation under her feet. She moved around experimentally, amazed at the warm, grainy feeling under her soles and between her toes. Preferring to go barefoot, Amalia was used to feeling sturdy ground, plush grass, or, more recently, smooth, cold stone under her feet, but this… This was entirely new. 

What was this?

As if reading her thoughts, Yugo spoke. “This,” he gestured at the landscape before them, “is the beach. Pretty cool, huh?”

All Amalia could offer in response was a hushed nod, too awed for words. 

Using her silence to his advantage, he stepped a little closer to her and pointed at the body of water. “You see that right over there?” This time, she managed to voice an ‘uh-huh’, “That’s the sea. Well, a small part of it, at least; it’s immense, really. And right now, you’re stepping on sand.”

At last, Amalia found her voice, even if her amazement didn’t decrease in the slightest. “Yugo, this… This is incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it!”

“I figured you might not have this in Sadida’s Dimension since there aren’t many plants that grow in this kind of ecosystem. So I wanted to show it to you—.”

Before he could even finish talking, Amalia had dashed forward and in the direction of the sea, kicking up a plume of sand that forced Yugo to use his cloak to cover both himself and Adamaï lest it got in their faces, or their eyes, or their mouths… They could only look on, surprised, as the doll came to kneel right at the shore, where the waves crashed. But while Adamaï looked on amusedly as she cupped her hands to drink some water, Yugo could only look on, horrified. 

He was even more horrified at the sight of his twin doing nothing to stop her. 

“Ad, what are you doing?!” He screeched, frustrated beyond belief. “We have to stop her!”

But much to his consternation, Adamaï only rolled his eyes good-naturedly at him. Boy, the dragon understood having to make sure she was okay lest they risked facing the gods’ wrath, but his brother could certainly get overprotective.

“Relax, bro. Let her learn on her own.” Then, to Yugo’s disbelief, he chuckled, “Besides, it’ll be fine to see the look on her face right before she spits the salt water in disgust.”

The king pursed his lips, his patience running thin.

“Adamaï.” 

“Hm?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What does salt do to plants?”

“Huh? Well, it kills them, of course.”

What kind of question was that?

“Right. And what is Amalia?”

“She’s a plant doll—.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“That’s what I thought.” Yugo couldn’t help but comment, a little smugly. After a beat, the two of them scrambled to get to Amalia and prevent her from hurting herself. In their haste, they couldn’t help but lose their footing in the sand and come tumbling down. Raising his head and spitting out quite the mouthful of sand, the Eliatrope suddenly felt like hitting himself. 

“Well, duh!” He exclaimed, and before Adamaï could question him about it, he extended his hand and created a portal right underneath them that dropped them right behind Amalia. 

Unfortunately, they were too late. The moment they landed, Amalia had just taken her first sip of the water. Eyes wide with terror, the siblings could only brace themselves for the worst and hold each other for comfort. 

…and then, their expressions fell in confusion when Amalia simply let out a sound of complaint as she winced and made a disgusted grimace in response. “Yuck! By Sadida’s trees! What on the World of Twelve was that?!”

While a still recovering Adamaï could only let his face drop on the sand with a resounding thud!, all a gobsmacked Yugo managed to say was, “Uh…yeah. Sea water is salty. Drinking it is not good for you.”

“No kidding!” Amalia commented as she stood up, dusting sand off her pants. “That thing almost made me throw up again.” Then, when she turned around to look back at them, her brow furrowed at the sight of an exhausted Adamaï sprawled face-down on the sand and the bewildered look on Yugo’s face. “Uh… you guys okay?”

“Never been better”, came Adamaï's sarcastic, albeit muffled, reply, his face still on the sand. 

While the doll could only blink blankly at their antics, uncomprehending, Yugo tried looking around for something to distract her with and move on from their little, apparently unnecessary freak-out. Eyes scanning the beach, they lit up at what he saw. 

“Amalia, look!”

Amalia followed his finger to the direction it was pointing at, her eyes widening in interest at what she saw. Lounging lazily over a piece of stranded wood on the sand, was one funny-looking little creature. It was blue and red in colour and had a gelatinous quality, so much so, its trunk was practically translucent, revealing what looked like several hearts of different sizes. Its eyes were big and beady, but it was hard to tell where its trunk ended and its head started when its other more distinguishable feature was a series of tentacles. 

It was both kind of disgusting and kind of cute. 

“Um, what is that?” She questioned, pointing at the thing. 

“It’s a Kralamoure.” It was Adamaï who answered. However, when Amalia turned around once more to better face him, she instinctively took a step back in surprise when she noticed a blue and white Kralamoure now occupied the dragon’s place. Adamaï couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction at her reaction. “You’re not the only one who knows a thing or two about shapeshifting, Amalia.”

“Wait, you can shapeshift too, Adamaï?”

With a nod and a puff of smoke, he turned back into his draconically humanoid form. “It’s actually a dragon thing, or at least, it’s something Eliatrope dragons can do.” He shared a glance with Yugo, asking for confirmation, which he got in the form of a nod. “I’m sure you must have noticed how different our dragon siblings are.”

Now that he mentioned it, Amalia had taken notice of that the few times she’d seen a dragon around. The scarce few times she caught a glimpse of Phaeris, he looked like a winged, scaled Osamodas; Grougal was almost indiscernible from a human; Shinonomé was a horned, red-skinned woman; and both Baltazar and Efrim seemed to prefer their natural forms. 

She shuddered subtly at the memory of the smallest dragon. The least she thought about him and his terrifying eyes, the better.

In fact, now that she allowed her gaze to travel up and down Adamaï’s form, it finally registered just how different he truly was from his siblings. While the other dragons either took on their true forms or adopted more or less humanoid ones, Adamaï was essentially a dragon with humanoid features. He was bipedal at all times, and his movements were very much human, but he had claws instead of hands or feet, he made no effort to hide his tail or his physique as they were perfectly reptilian, and his face was more of a snout than an actual face. 

And to think they’d been taken aback just because she changed her own clothes when their dragons could do that. It was unbelievable.

Unaware of the thoughts running through her mind, Yugo pointed out anecdotally, “You know, when it’s Grougal’s turn to patrol, he usually takes the form of a giant Kralamoure to keep intruders at bay.”

“Wait, really? Do you favour Kralamoures as well, Adamaï?”

“Not really.” The dragon deadpanned, having to suppress a shudder at an unpleasant memory right before flashing his brother a glare for chuckling at his reaction. “I mostly just spend my time like this. After all,” a pair of wings sprouted from his back, “I can patrol from above just the same.”

“I see… And why do you need to patrol in the first place?”

Tensing up at her question and the particular can of worms that could open, Yugo scrambled to change the subject. It was a delicate topic so it’d be best if he handled it smoothly. 

“H-hey! Wanna go for a swim, Amalia?” He said, clasping his hands. 

If Nora had been there, she would’ve taken the opportunity to point out her brother had many qualities, but being smooth just wasn’t one of them.

While it didn’t go unnoticed by Amalia how he had changed the subject, much more urgent matters occupied her mind at the moment. “Are you serious? Absolutely not!”

That… was not the reaction Yugo was hoping for, even if it did seem to take her mind off asking awkward questions. “What? Why? That’s pretty much what beaches are for; having some fun swimming in the sea and sunbathing.”

The Divine Doll just rolled her eyes at his hopelessness. “Yeah, with the appropriate clothing! I can’t go swimming like this!” She gestured at her ‘adventuring outfit’, as she’d called it, “This was meant to be more practical wear when exploring; it’s not a swimsuit!”

“Well, why don’t you just change clothes again and put on a swimsuit, then?” Yugo suggested uneasily, not sure what the problem was. By his side, Adamaï silently mused to himself that his brother might not survive the sight of the Sadida Doll in a swimsuit. 

“Excuse me?!” Amalia snapped, incredulous. “Didn’t you hear me when I said I spent hours choosing this outfit? I can’t just up and make whatever! You can’t rush genius, you know?” She crossed her arms and stuck up her nose in a huff. 

For his part, Yugo was idly wondering where this world’s champions asking for a rematch were when you needed them. He also made a mental note, not for the first time, to summon the Royal tailor to have some clothes made for Amalia as soon as they arrived. The fact that she could make her own clothes and change in no time at all was a bonus, but he honestly wasn’t looking forward to having this same conversation every time he tried to surprise her and her outfit wasn’t appropriate for the occasion. 

Taking notice of the king’s slightly overwhelmed expression and realising she might have gone a little too far—even though she knew what she said made perfect sense. I mean, who takes someone to a place with the intention of swimming and doesn’t warn them to wear a swimsuit beforehand?—, she bit her lip. Clearing her throat even as she flicked her head in a proud display, she tentatively said, “A-anyway, j-just because we can’t exactly go swimming, it doesn’t mean we can’t still have some fun in the water. Since I’m already barefoot, we could try walking along the shoreeeeEEEEEE!”

Her words were interrupted by a loud squeal when some water splashed all over her, leaving the Sadida Doll positively soaked from head to toe. Her mouth gaping like a fish and her eyes about as wide as the Kralamoure still lounging on its piece of wood, she stood frozen in place as Yugo doubled down laughing, Adamaï's own loud cackles echoing from above them.

Normally, Adamaï would never stoop so low, but Amalia was clearly overreacting and it was too good an opportunity to pass up on. “What’s the matter, Amalia? I thought you said it was okay to have some fun in the water?” He mocked between laughs. 

Her eye twitched as she felt the water chill her to the bone, however, it didn’t take long for the outrage bubbling up within her to warm her whole body up in righteous indignation. Teeth borne as her face contorted into the kind of menacing scowl that would have made Sram proud, Amalia wasted no time taking revenge. 

“Why you little weed!” She screeched to the top of her lungs, throwing her arm out and commanding two rather tall palm trees right within reach of Adamaï to spring into action. 

“Wait, what the—!?” Before the dragon had time to react, the palm trees had him trapped between their leaves, acting almost as two giant hands he was powerless against. As he wriggled and squirmed, Amalia brought her hands down, and with that the two palm trees bent forward until Adamaï’s body was submerged under water. A few seconds passed where Yugo was beginning to seriously worry about his brother’s safety, when Amalia finally released him with a satisfied hum as she dusted her hands off. 

Looking back and forth between his soaked brother and the smirking Divine Doll, Yugo was wise enough to take a few steps back and away from her, making the resolution of never incurring her wrath. Given her usually sweet demeanour and child-like wonder, it was easy to forget she, too, was a demigoddess, and all that entailed. 

Spitting out some salt water and sand that got in his mouth as he tried to sit back up, an unamused Adamaï couldn’t help but spit sarcastically. “Wow, your bride is such a little flower, isn’t she, Yugo?”

The answer was immediate, surely a result of all the teasing he had had to endure a few hours prior. “For the last time, she is not my bride!”

But as Adamaï winced at his brother’s unnecessarily loud volume, his words gave Amalia pause, her gaze turning contemplative as she pondered them. Now that she thought about it, that had indeed been the reason why she’d been sent to Oma, to be Yugo’s bride because he was supposed to be her suitor. And even though Yugo had explained to her on her first day why that couldn’t be, he had yet to answer her questions regarding what it all really meant. He’d said that while brides and marriages tended to go hand-in-hand, they couldn’t get married as there was no guarantee they would ever fall in love. But, what was love?

She knew she loved her father and sisters and they loved her in return. The warm, happy feeling she got with them had to mean something. But what made it different from the kind of love that made people marry each other?

As Yugo was busy bickering with Adamaï over how, technically, he had no one to blame but himself, he heard Amalia’s voice calling out to him softly. “Yugo?”

“What is it, Amalia?” Looking over his shoulder to give her his full attention, he couldn’t keep his eyes from widening at the unexpected vulnerability she was showing. Her posture was hesitant, one arm draped over her form as her brown eyes were fixated on the sand as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. The gentle afternoon breeze weaving through her green locks. 

Her next question made his heart stop, “What is love?”

Tensing up, his own posture straightening up almost involuntarily, he sent his brother a pleading look, only for him to raise his claws up in surrender and walk a little ways off from them to give them some space. Yugo was not above suspecting he was only doing that as retaliation for not helping him when Amalia almost drowned him. 

The traitor. 

He made a show of clearing his throat and straightening his cloak as he stalled for time, his mind racing to find a suitable answer to her question. Or even better! Until she grew self-conscious and backtracked, apologising for ever bringing the topic up right before he assured her it was fine while also making sure to stow that conversation for another day. Hopefully never. 

But Amalia seemed to have no intention of showing him some mercy and giving him an out. Instead, she just remained where she was, waiting for his answer with bated breath, her big, brown eyes pleading with him and… He was a goner. There was no way he could just deprive her of an answer he had promised he would eventually give her when she looked at him like that. 

He was half-beginning to suspect she knew of this fact and used it to her advantage. And not for the first time he found himself cursing Sadida and his impeccable craftsmanship.

Rubbing the back of his head through his hood in surrender, he heaved a deep sigh as he trudged towards her to close the distance between them a little. Though, to make things easier, he made it a point to stare at the ocean and the afternoon sun rather than at her. 

“What is love, indeed?��� He mused aloud. He chuckled through his nose. “To be honest, I’m not too sure anyone has the right answer for that. Would it be okay if I try explaining what love is to me?”

Coming to gaze upon the horizon as well, a small, grateful smile on her lips, Amalia shrugged. “It’s still more than what I know.”

Well, he supposed that was fair. “The thing is, Amalia, it’s very hard to find a suitable definition for love because there’s actually so many kinds of love, which means all definitions are simultaneously right and wrong, it just depends on the context. “

“What if the context is when two people wish to marry?” She asked innocently but bluntly. 

Wow, Sadida’s little flower didn’t pull back any punches, now did she? 

“Then that’s what we call romantic love, it’s different from the love you feel for your friends or your family.”

Amalia frowned, not sure how to feel knowing there was a different kind of love beyond what she felt for her family and Yugo—she felt particularly concerned for what that might entail for her friendship with Yugo. 

“But why? What makes ‘romantic love’ different?,” she air-quoted, staring back at him even as he was resolute in keeping his gaze fixed in front of him. 

The task before him was nothing if not daunting, the fact that he hadn’t really moved past flings in this lifetime —or, according to Qilby, any lifetime, really— made explaining such an abstract concept to a Divine Doll like Amalia, a creature that encapsulated all the grace and power belonging to a goddess and possessed a sense of child-like innocence and and wonder at the same time nothing sort of a Kerubean task. 

But he promised her he would explain things to her and it wouldn’t be very kingly of him to back out on their deal now. 

“All I can say for certain is that you’ll know when the time is right.” He finally said, his dark brown eyes glazed over at the phantom heartbeats he was trying to feel anew. “When you’re in love, you just know the love you feel for that person is different, despite how similar it might look to every other kind.

“You’ll find yourself constantly thinking about that person and wanting to look your best for them. And I don’t mean just wanting to look pretty, but you want them to see your best qualities, hoping that will make them fall for you. And you’ll find yourself appreciating all of their best qualities too.” He chuckled, biting his lip in amusement. “Oh, and for a good while you’ll even find their flaws charming! There’s a good reason people tend to say love is blind, after all…”

Finally, he turned contemplative, his voice carrying a particular softness that made Amalia listen to him with rapt attention, sensing what he said next was the most important thing of all:

“But more than anything, you want that person to be happy. You want them to be happy, and safe, and seeing them smile can light up your whole day and it’s incredible. Because you just want the best for them and there’s no better feeling than knowing someone feels the same way about you. I don’t know, being in love can be wonderful, I suppose. So much so, you end up asking that person to marry you because you want to secure you’ll both get to experience that same feeling every day for the rest of your lives.”

As Yugo kept talking, he honestly forgot all about the world around him, too busy lost in his thoughts, to the point he was mostly just thinking aloud. While he was certainly happy with the life he led, as it was an honour to have their people’s unwavering trust and nothing quite filled him like experiencing everything the Krozmos had to offer, a part of him couldn’t quite get over how he never really met the kind of person that made him want to settle down. 

Over the centuries he’d been with some really wonderful people. They had so much fun and they were all great, but none of them ever felt like his anchor. Not in the sense that they would tie him down, but more as in they’d ground him to the point of wanting to share his life with them. The fact that they had very different lifespans didn’t help matters. 

When they first met, they would always be in sync. They would all let themselves be swept off their feet by the appeal of an adventuring king, inebriated by the thrill of it all. But the more time passed, the more they wanted different things. And the more time passed, the more they were forced to admit they would never be able to grow old together; they would never be able to share a life together. 

It was always the same song and dance, and it always broke his heart. And yet, he never felt truly brokenhearted. 

Sometimes he wondered if it was because he knew how things would end before they even started and unconsciously kept them all at arm’s length. Never close enough to get under his skin and steal his heart. Never close enough to become a part of him. 

He was so engrossed in his own thoughts, he couldn’t help but flinch when he felt Amalia taking his hand and resting her head against his arm, causing a tingle to run up and down of it, a content smile on her face. Not for the first time, his breath hitched when she raised her head to meet his gaze. 

“You’re right, Yugo. That all sounds wonderful.” Snuggling closer to him, she sighed wistfully. “I really hope I get to be an actual bride one day.”

Despite the cosy glow of the afternoon sun and the warm temperatures typical of Oma Island, Yugo felt his blood run cold at those words. The tingling sensation in his arm gave way to numbness, while his mind felt overwhelmed by a million wayward thoughts, battling for dominance. 

How did things get like this, with Amalia cuddling his arm like a throw pillow. And all those looks she would send him—innocent and sweet, but hypnotising and alluring like a siren song. How did he know she wasn’t deliberately pretending not to know the effect she had on him? How could he know Efrim wasn’t right and she hadn’t been trained to seduce him?

After all, now that he thought about it, she seemed perfectly at ease with the idea of remaining at the palace even if he wouldn’t take her as his bride. What kind of person did that unless they had some ulterior motives? Thinking back, given her sole purpose was to act as his bride, the moment he turned down the offer she should have been more than happy to go back home… unless she was counting on it to use it as an opportunity to make him fall for her!

Something dark and cynical bubbled up to the surface as he lamented his carelessness, his jaw and fists clenching at the thought, frustrated with himself. One thing was treating Amalia kindly and respectfully, another very different thing was making a fool of himself for her. 

But just then, as he chanced a look at her, all those thoughts of Amalia being some conniving seductress vanished at the sight of her smiling face. So sweet, so genuine, so radiant. There was no way someone like Amalia could ever conspire behind his back like that. But the familiarity she treated him with was cause for concern, only, perhaps it was his fault, rather than a conscious attempt at manipulating him. Maybe he kept sending her mixed signals that made her believe she indeed had a shot of ever becoming his queen.

He had to suppress a groan at the memory of all the times he stood too close to her, all the times he didn’t hesitate to take her hands in his, the intimacy belying the way he led her earlier that day while she had her eyes closed… If Amalia behaved like she was his bride, it was because he himself made her believe that. He had to find a way to put an end to that mistake without making the even graver mistake of offending the World of Twelve’s gods. 

He was not in love with Amalia. For the sake of his people, he could not be in love with her.

Amalia had been basking in the warm afternoon sun when she felt Yugo shift underneath her. She peered up curiously at him when he gingerly grabbed her by the arms and pushed her away from him gently. Her frown only deepened when he didn’t look at her. 

“Let’s go back home, okay?”

As Yugo made his way back into the jungle, Amalia could only share a perplexed look with Adamaï before following suit. 

Was it something she said?

..........................................................................................................................

While the trek back to the palace had certainly been more awkward than before, with Yugo once again leading their little group but not saying a word, Amalia couldn’t help the immense joy she felt. She had been on her first adventure! She had left the palace and ventured into the island’s lush jungle, connecting to nature at last. She had even seen the sea! Yugo had been right, that had to be about the only thing you wouldn’t be able to find in Sadida’s Dimension. 

She was so making a swimsuit for the next time they went! 

Even with the few hiccups they’d had along the way, all in all, it had been a perfect day. She couldn’t wait until their next outing. With a small blush forming on her cheeks, she dared to hope maybe next time it would only be Yugo and her. 

Don’t get her wrong, she rather liked Adamaï, he was always very kind to her. But for some reason she couldn’t quite explain, there was something special about when it was just Yugo and her. 

As they finally arrived at the side of the castle where her room was, her balcony high above them, she turned to them. “Guys, I just want to say I had a wonderful time today. I can hardly wait for our next adventure! Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it, Amalia. It was our pleasure.” The Eliatrope King offered her a smile, but it didn’t quite feel like the usual smiles he would send her. It felt kind of… forced.

“I’m sure next time will be even better.” Adamaï told her with a nod of his head. 

“Amalia, I—” Whatever it was Yugo meant to say next died in his throat at the unexpected arrival of Phaeris. Amalia couldn’t help but take notice of the fact that he was in his winged, humanoid form. 

“Yugo, Adamaï!” He exclaimed, before taking notice of Amalia standing right there. “Phaeris hopes this isn’t a bad time.”

Whatever hesitation marred Yugo’s face moments prior was immediately discarded at the sight of his dragon brother, his expression turning serious and focused, like a king should be. 

“It’s alright, Phaeris. Is something the matter?”

“Phaeris wishes to discuss some Cra sentinel sightings. The rest of the Council is already waiting for us at the council room.”

“Cra sentinels, huh?” Yugo muttered to himself, at the same time as a Adamaï, who was holding his chin pensively, mused aloud, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“We should depart as soon as you bid Lady Amalia goodbye.” Phaeris’ comment reminded both twins of the Sadida Doll’s presence. And of the little problem returning her to her room without their portals and no visible door posed. 

“We’re sorry that we have to leave so abruptly Amalia,” Yugo began, sharing a nod with Adamaï, “but Ad can fly you up to your room in no time at all.”

But, to their surprise, the doll just waved them off. “Oh, don’t worry about me! I’ll be just fine. You guys go take care of your duties.”

“Are you sure?” Yugo felt the need to ask, not feeling so sure himself. 

She scoffed good-naturedly. “Positive.”

Before any of the Primordial Eliatropes could get another word in, a gigantic, thick vine sprouted from underneath Amalia’s feet and carried her all the way over to her balcony. Once she was hovering over it, she gingerly jumped down the vine while it came back the way it came from. 

“Thank you again, guys! See you soon!” She turned around to wave them goodbye, which they all hesitantly mimicked, still taken aback by what they’d just seen. 

Divine Doll: 7; Eliatrope Council: 0.

Back in her room, Amalia decided to take a little more time before she changed out of her adventuring outfit and into her pyjamas. She found she quite liked her little ensemble; maybe she should use it more often. Stretching to relieve tensions from her super charged day, she let out a contented sigh, feeling happier than she had been in a while. 

Before getting into the room, she allowed herself to loiter around her balcony a little while longer. As the setting sun’s rays bathed anything they could reach and she leaned against the railing, her eyes catching sight of Yugo as he stepped inside one of his portals—surely to get to the council room—, his words and everything he’d done for her that day kept replaying in her mind. 

As she thought about everything he said about what love was and how it felt like, especially knowing your special someone felt the same, Amalia couldn’t stop a small smile from curling at her lips at the thought of getting to experience that kind of love one day. 

[ryuichirou]

i saw a twst piss shade thread on twitter and was sharing to acquaintances how Idia is so often hc to piss in a bottle, energy too strong, and so! i wanna ask who do you think would piss in their bottom's mouth or ass :D your ask box has been quietly uncursed those days by what's answered and i thought of that so i'm not sorry uwu

Anon, this is such a long overdue reply, but I never forgot about your ask. In fact, I was saving it for a rainy day (golden rainy god I hate myself), because the mere fact of having such an ask in our ask box was making me happy. I really appreciate the cursedness of it, and I especially appreciate you considering us an authority on such an important, topical and very complicated question.

(by the way, of course Idia would pee in a bottle – the guy is all about convenience!)

Let’s get into it lol

Ace – would. This absolutely isn’t his go-to, but I can picture him both having an accident and doing it on purpose just because of how much of an asshole he is sometimes. He probably wouldn’t expect it to be this hot, he was just being a dick, but…

Trey – wouldn’t, but he would think about it… but this is just one of a million cursed kinky things that Trey thinks about hypothetically. He is also the type to apologise a lot afterwards and clean his bottom’s mouth thoroughly lol

Cater – would also think about it, but probably wouldn’t dare to do it. He also might do a fake “oops, sorry” afterwards.

Ruggie – he absolutely would for money, but no one is really offering ;( “Weird stuff you’re into, but sure” type of thing.

Jack – he wouldn’t… intentionally. He is super against it, the idea would sound revolting to him. But he is also a young pup and can’t always control himself, so he might have a little “marking territory” moment.

Azul – wouldn’t, he probably would think it’s gross. If something like this happened accidentally, he would be more embarrassed than smug about it…

Floyd – would. Sometimes because he just wants to piss inside his lover’s mouth (especially if Riddle (or Idia…)’s been annoying him), sometimes he just feels so aroused that he can’t help himself, and sometimes he just feels like peeing but doesn’t feel like moving. He likes doing it a lot.

Jade – absolutely would. But only if the situation is perfect for it because this isn’t something that he can overuse, so to speak. He knows that his potential partners wouldn’t expect him to do something like this, so he has to catch the most perfect moment of bliss and pleasure to shock his bottom with his special hot liquid lol

Kalim – he would, I’m sorry Jamil. He would do it on accident the first time, and it would be in the butt, but after that he would kind of get into it… he doesn’t do it all the time of course, and he is a little embarrassed to bring it up, but all this shyness goes away whenever he’s having sex.

Rook – would, but isn’t allowed :( Doesn’t mean that he absolutely never does it, mind you. But there is a very strict policy in Vil’s bedroom that he does break from time to time, to be completely fair. And with the other boys too, but not always – he is weirdly strategic about how he uses his urine. 🤔

Ortho – he would adjust his special gear just to try it out, and if he gets a fun reaction out of it, he’ll do it again! But he also was partially interested if niisan would be able to tell that the liquid he squirted inside of his butt is different by consistency and temperature… it’s not real pee, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Lilia – would, he did it with a lot of boys back in the day, and he still does it now; he also kind of taught Silver that this is something that could happen in case of an emergency if you can’t leave your pee smell in the woods for some reason.

Sebek – would, and this is 90% because of what Lilia has taught Silver. Sebek knows that this is complete bs, but he got so flustered and shocked when Silver got down and opened his mouth, that he couldn’t process it or say anything in protest. 

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

Hell of a Show {Excerpt}

Jake Kiszka x Fem. OC

***Table of Content**

The Beginning: Part VII

Jake hears her come down the stairs, her steps padding across the floor when she walks to the front door to make sure it’s locked. 

He scrolls through his phone as he waits on her, having been instructed not to make a sound once he snuck inside…

There’s an excited pep in Coley’s step as she moves back to her room, knowing that her boyfriend is waiting on her. 

When she arrives, she giggles, shutting and locking the door behind her while he discards his phone and gets off of her bed with a smirk of his own. 

She doesn’t have time to move from the door before her back is pressed to it, Jake’s lips catching hers before giving way to tongue. 

Her fingers bury in his soft hair, a quiet hum leaving her as she gently pushes him away to speak. 

“What’d your mom say?” She asks, gasping in a breath while his lips press to her cheek, then her jaw, down her neck…

“They’re gonna call him Monday.” He spits it out, going back to her lips, sliding a hand down to her ass. 

“I meant about you leaving again?” She corrects herself, speaking against his lips before he’s trying to kiss her again. “Jake?” 

He’s too excited, perhaps, his heart still hammering in his chest from the adrenaline of meeting Al Sutton and being offered studio time. 

It feels like one step closer to where they want to go, as if the stars are beginning to fall in line little by little. 

“I got a shower and they’d already gone to bed when I got out.” He simply shrugs and her eyes go wide. 

“Your parents don’t even know you left?” She scolds him. 

“Your parents don’t know you’re hiding me in here, so.” Jake reminds her, leaning down once again. 

She welcomes his lips. 

“What’d your mom say about the Al thing?” He asks after taking the opportunity of catching his breath. 

She doesn’t want to piss on his parade and tell him that she immediately shifted the conversation to Coley going back to college, instead, so she merely says, “She’s gonna look into it.” 

A wide smile slowly pulls at his lips, his nose sweetly brushing against hers before she struggles to swallow the lump of nerves forming in her throat. 

“I need to get a shower.” She whispers, to him, next. “I’ll make it quick, though. Promise.” She pecks his lips and he lets her go, his hand smacking at her ass when she walks to her bathroom—not bothering with grabbing clothes to change into because there’s really no point when he’s already seen her naked. 

She scrubs the smell of smoke and sweat from her skin and hair, and when she’s finished and wrapped in a towel, staring at herself in the mirror, she feels as if her heart is going to explode. 

Coley can’t help but wonder if he knows what she’s about to prompt, or if he even cares, really—if it’s even a big deal to him.

The last time she’d gone so far with someone, it was on a whim and made her feel gross afterward…she doesn’t necessarily want to know when the last time Jake had done it. 

He’s made himself comfortable—she can hear the T.V. turned on in her room—and she chuckles to herself at the thought of him turning down the idea of finally having sex with her, just to watch someone bake some apples.  

She finishes squeezing the excess water from her dark blonde hair before taking in a final deep breath and opening the door. 

He’s distracted by the woman in the on-screen kitchen, to say the least. She knew he would be—becoming engrossed once something grabs his attention. 

Jake doesn’t even fully realize she’s out of the bathroom until she’s climbing on the bed.  

“What’re you doing?” He asks, chuckling in a giddy manner, his hands immediately running up the soft skin of her back when she straddles him and settles in his lap, trying not to move too much despite the temptation of his jeans along her bare skin. 

“Whatever you want.” She replies, fingertips grazing his cheek as his brown eyes stare into hers.

Typically when she says something along the same lines, it’s slyly spoken from her lips with a teasing glint in her eye…this time it’s whispered out with a serious undertone that has his thick eyebrows knitting together.

“Well…what do you want?” He inquires in the same manner, both of his hands pushing damp hair from her face before holding at her jaw.

“Just you.” She replies quietly, leaning forward to kiss him.

It’s gentle but brief, his hands pulling her mouth from his so he can remind her, “You know you’ve already got me without having to do this, right?”

.

.

.

Masterlist

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED*

Tag list: @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @zooweemama555 @hollyco @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower

[merakiui]

Me and the neige community are STARVING and ur psot abt Neige was just so???SCRUMPTIOUS.I WILL GO ON MY KNEES FOR MORE GROSS PERVENT NEIGE THOUGHTS PLEASE (I asked very nicely)

I'm so happy you like it!! Neige is so beloved. orz

I like to think he's so eerily good at taking sly, candid photos. He's the best at getting panty shots (although admittedly he might get some help from the woodland creatures when they distract you with their mischievous antics). He has an entire scrapbook filled with photos of you, some more innocent than others and some downright lewd. He snips out anyone else who might be in the photo (all he really wants is you; everyone else is a mere background character in his love story). Neige's delusion and obsession becomes so bad that sometimes it feels like he doesn't see anyone else—like they're all faceless nobodies. He often peers through people rather than at them, but he's just so sweet and carefree, so you'll never suspect anything's amiss. He's the type to catalogue everything about your habits and mannerisms, and he might even adopt some just to feel more like you (to be closer to you).

He most definitely has an onahole with your name scribbled on it. I like to think Neige was never very interested in sex (he just wants sugary romance—the fluffy type seen in all the best stories and fairytales!), but after he falls for you he is almost always horny. T_T everything you do has his pulse quickening; he is down so bad. He pastes his favorite pictures of you to a wall in his closet and he'll spend so long in there rutting into the onahole to images of you in a cute outfit, to your smile, to that time the birds were teasing you and it caused you to fall in a very suggestive position...

He might occasionally scroll through your NRC friends' Magicams just to collect more photos of you. It's so unfortunate that you aren't attending RSA. Oh, how he wishes he could see you every single day. The others are so lucky to spend time with you so often; he's actually a teensy bit envious. :( he wants to eat lunch with you, attend classes with you, stand near you so closely that he can smell you. Thankfully, he can always spend time with you when the both of you meet up in town! Although meeting up for a day of fun isn't the same as day after day after day of fun.

I like to think he also vividly daydreams of how your first time will go. He's really excited. Neige hopes you're a virgin like he is, but if you aren't that's also okay! It doesn't make him love you any less. And it's actually a little attractive if you have some experience. So long as he gets to sleep with you, he can ignore details like whether or not it's your first time. He'll always be honest with you, so he's very pleased to tell you it's his first time. But you don't have to be gentle because he's a virgin! In fact, he'd prefer it if you were rough, if you tore his shoulders to shreds, if you marked him with bruises and bites... Neige likes the idea of being marked by you (of course he'll have to cover them up so his fans won't suspect anything, but having this little secret makes it all the more alluring). Also breeding kink. I wholeheartedly believe he is in the top few of the twst cast with a huge breeding kink.

I also feel like he would be really into role-play. He probably has the filthiest of fantasies he'd love to act out with you omg. <3 OOOO AND PHONE SEX. Neige is absolutely fucking into his fist or his onahole when he talks to you over the phone. Whether you're explaining how your day went or excitedly going on about a movie you saw recently, he's always listening (while also busy imagining some not-so-innocent things). :)

[severineofsalem]

Past The Cemetery

Pairing(s): Sister!Fem!Reader x Mary Goore

Summary: You are sent to the woods for an errand by Secondo. A mysterious stranger shows up along the way.

Warning(s): 18+ MDNI, penetration, p in v sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (USE PROTECTION), corruption kink, blood, mentions of necrop-...yeah umm Mary is gross, THIS IS NOT EDITED it's very messy and not the best

Word Count: 2k

AO3 Link

A/N: this was honestly rushed but I hope you get a kick out of it

“Shit. Dammit!” Your head was beginning to spin from looking at all the headstones. Secondo wanted you to drop a pouch off at a specific monument, something about a pact or of the sort. You had never ventured this far in the cemetery. Treetops block your line of sight from the church.

Go west and keep going. You’ll know once you see it.

His words replay in your head. Some instructions, you thought. All you knew was to find a monument singled off past the borders of the graveyard. The setting sun was the only thing lighting the way. You’ve been walking for what felt like an hour. Your habit did little to block out the chilly autumn air.

Stopping next to the last grave, you look at your path ahead. Fog began to cloud over the ground, making the already spooky area more ominous. You narrow over the setting and not a monument in sight. Grabbing ahold of your habit tight, you continue your journey.

***

West. All you gotta do is keep going west-

You choke on your breath, your body freezing at the sight of the statue.

A large version of the grucifix covered in what looked to be rusted blood stood at least 8 feet high. What made your stomach sink was the pieces of bones and ritualistic symbols surrounding the stone. Something felt off. All you need to do is set the pouch at the monument and return to the church's comfort. What could go wrong?

You glance around before making your way to the stone. Leaning down, you place the velvet pouch on the grey slab, avoiding the skeletal remains.

“What do we have here?”

A frightened shriek rips from your throat.  Frantically standing upright, you search for the voice. Leaning against a tree was a man clad in jeans with a hole in one knee and a black sleeveless shirt. He looks sickly with abnormally pale skin, cheeks sunken in, and streams of red running down his face. You can only assume it was blood. A daunting aura spews off the stranger. He roughly appears deceased.

No words left your mouth. Something was very off.

“Hmm. It’s been a long time since there was an offering. Too long.”

Your senses came flooding back. “Excuse me, I must-”

“Who was it this time? It was the second papa, wasn’t it, babe?” The mention of the familiar person made your brows furrow. “You know Secondo?” It slips out before you can think.

“You could say we are…old friends. We’ve done plenty of business together. That’s why you’re out here? Doing business for that old man?” The guy kicks his muddy boots against the dirt, his shoulder still against the bark. Just because you have a mutual doesn’t mean he is trustworthy.

“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back. It was nice meeting you.” You made two steps toward the cemetery before he blocked the way.

“It seems to me, babe, that you have no idea what is happening here.” The proximity makes you shiver.

You look into his menacing gaze, “And what exactly is happening?” He steps closer, tilting his head. A mischievous grin expands to his cheeks, “You think your Papa would send you out here just to drop off a bag and run back? Oh no, babe. That thing is full of worthless rocks. The real offering is you.”

The hairs on your arms stand up. You freeze again. “Wh- what do you mean?” Was he going to murder you? Would Secondo do this to you? You are merely a sister of sin, always doing what you are told. You are devoted, not blind. Your heart was pounding in your throat.

All expression fell from his face, a dead, serious look twinkling in his eyes. “Sweetness, I’m going to tear you limb for limb and eat your flesh.” Your stomach drops.

“Just kidding.” He throws his head back, shoulders shaking with laughter. His combats stomp against the soil as he claps his hands. “I’ve only done that twice.”

That doesn’t ease your rising panic at all. You take a few steps back, accidentally bumping into a tree. Mary follows your movements, resting his hands on the bark near your shoulders. You are trapped. As much as you hate to admit it, seeing the stranger up close made your heart pound in a way other than panic.

“My name is Mary, by the way. And you, babe, are going to be so much fun.” Mary leans in, feathering his nose along the side of your neck. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying to Lucifer that your time isn’t up. “Oh fuck me. He always knew how to choose. I’ll give him that.”

“Wh-what?” He pulls back, looking into your eyes. “C’mon, babe. Your blood reeks of innocence.” Mary senses your confusion. Placing a hand on his hip, “For your Papa to get what he wants, he has to trade something in return. You, my sweet, are the virgin sacrifice he needed. Pure blood must spill to complete the oblation.”

How anyone knew of your inexperience troubled you more. Was it that noticeable? The thought rushes away when Mary’s hand returns, brushing against your waist.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me?” The question seems to annoy him. “I know you’re naive, but don’t tell me you are fucking stupid, babe.” Impatiently, he looks at you. He was waiting.

Oh.

Mary’s sinister smile came back. “I’ll promise to be-...” He looks away, contemplating. His orbs lit up, shifting back to you. “Nice. Now, babe, are we doing this the easy way or the hard way? It doesn’t matter to me. Though, I do love a good chase.”

You have no choice but to give in. “Easy way.” You whisper.

“Atta girl.”

Mary smothers his lips to yours. Warmth floods your cheeks as he leans his entire body against you. The cold wind is a harsh contrast to the hot tongue invading your mouth. The sensation causes you both to moan. Your fingers turn white as you grasp the oak rind. Mary shoves you further into the tree, pushing his groin between your thighs.

Lifting his arms from the tree, Mary clasps the back of your thighs. With quick haste, you both collide onto the damp sod. Mary rushes to pull your legs over his shoulders, laying himself on top of you. Your thigh-length habit rose to your stomach, exposing the lace you had chosen to wear in the early morning.

Appentence seethes from the male above you. Greedy fingers tug the band of your underwear, pulling them upward to your knees. You can’t tell if you are shaking from the freezing air touching your bare skin or the anticipation flooding your veins.

Mary’s rough hands glide down your thighs, roaming the wet area between them. You bite your cheek to keep from moaning.

“Fuck me, babe.” He swirls a finger around your drenching hole, pushing in the long digit. You melt against the ground, grass brushing your cheek. Your face warms in embarrassment. How could you get this sopping wet from a stranger?

Mary continues his intrusion, curling deeper. Glancing up to your face, he notices your lack of volume. Mary quirks an eyebrow in vexation. Without warning, he adds another finger.

“Mary!” You whine at the stretch. A small cackle rises from Mary, and a sense of pride grows within his chest. He watches you squirm and squeal, trying to process how deep his fingers are reaching.

He smirks, watching his glistening digits go in and out of your snug opening. “I think it’s about time I fuck this pretty pussy, eh babe?”

You barely listen, nodding your head. Mary rushes to unfasten his jeans. He wastes no time lining himself up to your entrance. The head of his cock drips precum. His body itched with hunger. You are a sweet, innocent lamb for the taking. His dick had been hard since he got summoned, knowing what he’d get to do before it even happened.

You clutch Mary’s shoulders, nails digging into his gaunt frame. You shift in discomfort as he buries himself inside you. His hands find your hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises. Your head is spinning. All the sensations you feel make your brain hazy and mush.

Bottoming out, Mary lets out a growl. “Out of all the bodies, living and dead, I’ve fucked; you’ve got the tightest cunt I’ve ever fucking felt.”

He leans back, taking your legs off his shoulders. Mary discards your underwear, throwing it into the fog. He takes your legs, wrapping them around his midsection, situating you to his liking.

Mary bends down, burying his face in your neck. He starts to pound into you, your core burning with pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like this. Masturbation couldn’t even compare to the gratification you are receiving.

“H-harder, please.” It sounded pathetic, high-strung, and syrupy. A knot in the low part of your stomach begins to form. “Harder? Look at you. Whimpering on my dick like the slutty nun you are.” He laughs in your face, sharpening his movements nonetheless.

He ran his nose against your jugular, taking the flesh between his teeth. A pitchy cry forces its way out of you. Tears prick your eyes. The combination of pain from Mary’s bite and the pleasure between your thighs makes you short-circuit.

Silky, black hair clings to your jaw. The hot breath blowing onto your neck only adds to your heat. The raspy groans coming from Mary echo in your ear. The noises alone make you weak. It was becoming too much.

Mary moves away, admiring the mark he made on your skin. He inches forward, placing a light kiss on the contused skin.

All thoughts you have are gone. Your head tilts to the side, shutting your eyes in befuddlement.

“That’s it. Letting me use this tight pussy like the whore you are. Not so much a virgin now, sugar. Look at the mess you’ve made.” Mary gestures to where you are connected, keeping his pace. His eyes light up in awe. Arousal coats everything. He brings a hand down, rubbing your swollen clit.

“Mary!” You nearly scream. Each shove of his hips presses against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, glassy eyes rolling. Everything was pulsing, tingling, and shaking.

“Please!” The sensitivity made the tears in your eyes fall. “Please what, hmm?” He pushes harder on the swollen bud, making you wail. “You’ve got no one out here to save you. Your own Papa sent you here knowing you would be left hopeless. You had no choice but to let me ruin this sweet pussy.” He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust.

Your legs tug Mary impossibly closer to your trembling figure, toes curling in ecstasy.

“Gonna cum? You better fucking do it. Cum on my cock like a good fucking slut. That’s it.”

You have no power over the furious jerking of your hips clashing against his.

Your vision fills with explosions. You have no control over the squirming and shuddering your body is doing. Your breath catches in your airway. “P-please.” Your plea falls on deaf ears. Mary continues fucking you mercilessly, moaning wildly as you cum.

He takes advantage of your open mouth, searing a hot kiss to your lips. Mary grabs ahold of your neck, firmly squeezing. He growls into the kiss, filling your convulsing walls with cum. You stay connected for a good moment, soaking in the heat of each other.

Mary detaches himself from you, falling to your side. You both lie there panting, taking a second to breathe. Side-eyeing the man to your right, you notice something different about him. An essence of youth shines his aura. You shift your gaze to the trees above you, taking note of the dark sky.

You sit up, wincing at every sore muscle you have. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

You freeze. “Home?”

“Oh, sweetheart. We are nowhere near done.”