#there's at least one part shutting it down

[sugawhaaa]

°☆---SMUT SKZ REACTION---☆°

°☆~Walking in on the two of you having sex~☆°

Warnings/genre::SMUT, rough sex (Minho, Jeongin, Changbin,) BDSM (Felix) sex toys, (Felix) degradation, (minho) oral, (hyunjin, seungmin) fingering (seungmin) I think that's it 🧍🏻‍♀️

Pairing:: ot8!skz x fem!reader

A/N:: skz phase is back guys... sorry not sorry 😁 also this fanfic has me bashing my head against the wall I love it sm

Bangchan

Channie had you sitting on top of him while his hands rested at your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. The two of you had been going at it for a hot minute so this final round was quite weak. Bangchans hair was sweaty and his lips were chapped from heavy breathing. You didn't look in any better shape.

Channie swished your hair all to one side to see your beautiful face. He rubbed your bottom lip before praising you "just a bit longer babe, you're doing so good,"

That's when the door opened to Changbin. He froze for a moment as channie went to cover your body, protecting your privacy rather than his own. Bangchan gave changbin a look that said "bitch what do you want?" And changbin cleared his throat.

"S-Sorry just wanted to say Jisung door dashed some Chopchae but...I see you're busy," he closed over the door before saying "Have fun," and the door latched. Chan sighed and wiped down his face.

"Where were we?"

Minho

"You like that hm? When I call you a slut?" Lee know had you bent over the edge of the bed with your hands chained up to the bedframe left completely helpless as he pounded you from behind.

"Y-Yes," you pant out as you feel drool building up in your mouth that you can't wipe away. You squint your eyes shut as your head spins with pleasure. Minho starts thrusting faster, the room filling with the sound of his hips slapping against your ass harshly and the bed creaking for help. There was a light knock on the door and the two of you pause. The door opens to Jisung who is smiling and...innocent. Moments before being scarred for life.

"I bought some pudding for us toni-" Han pauses and his jaw drops. Minho grabs a bottle of lube and throws it at him. "Ah Jesus! It was an accident!" Jisung blocks his face as the lube comes flying at him.

"Then get out!" Minho yells and Jisung scurries away and closes the door. Minho sighs softly before adding to his comment. "And don't you dare tell me you saw Y/N like this!" He shouts before huffing. You felt kind of bad for jisung so you made a light hearted comment.

"At least he knocked"

Changbin

Changbin was always a fan of aggressive sex, not all the time, but he did like it when the two of you indulged in it. Tonight he had you on your knees, originally doggy style, and he held your arms back as he pounded into you from behind. Your cries and moans pierced through the walls as he gripped your wrists tightly. He then let go of one wrist to hold your throat and tilt your head up, showcasing his control over you.

"I'm close," you cry out in a hoarse voice and Changbin grins before doubling his efforts. His hand went from your throat to your hair and pulled your head back that way. You could feel yourself drooling but you didn't bother to clean yourself up.

That's when your greatest fear came to life. The door opened to a tired Jeongin with his skincare still on and his headband throwing back his spikey hair. His eyes then widened as Changbin froze. You ducked down and buried your face in the blankets.

"Oh shit," Jeongin covered the view with his hand as his face burnt red, his ears a bright red. "Sorry, I didn't see anything," he stumbled backward, his eyes shut, before closing the doors. You sigh before groaning into the bed sheets. Changbin pats your back comfortingly. You couldn't believe Jeongin saw you in such a state...

Hyunjin

Hyunjin sat you at the edge of the bed and went on his knees. He had your legs parted with his head sandwiched in between your thighs eating you out. Your moans were soft and quiet, surprisingly, but the room was filled with set and sloppy sounds. The overhead light was off so the only source of light was the lamp on your nightstand.

As hyunjin noticed your body tensing and your legs shaking he began to trace feather light circles on your leg, adding an extra bit of sensual contact. He moaned against your core softly as your orgasm hit. You threw your head back as your breath shook with pleasure. Hyunjin drank up every last drop of your arousal, poking his tongue between the tight folds and sucking the cum out of your pussy.

That's when the door opened. Felix stood in the doorway, at first not noticing the situation he walked into, before realizing you were completely naked. "Oh shit-" he put a hand over your body from his POV. Hyunjin turned around, cum dripping from his lips and he froze. He didn't want his friend to see him or you in this situation.

Hyunjin covered his mouth partially from shock and partially to cover the evidence of your "fun". Felix rushed out of the room and closed the door behind him before shouting "sorry!" And fleeing down the hall.

Felix

Felix can be somewhat intimidating during sex, a side that only you get to see and cherish. He's usually very gentle with his precious angel, you, but every now and then you plead him to treat you like an object, a toy, or one would say a slut. Tonight was one of those nights.

Felix had you awkwardly tied up on the bed, on your knees with your arms up and attached to a chain hooked to the ceiling and a vibrator between your legs. He sat behind you and occasionally played with your breasts, nibbled your back, or fingered your clit. Currently he was groping you as you whined and squirmed against the vibrator.

"Just a little bit more," he rasped into your ear as he flicked and fingered your nipples. Just as your release began to pile up the door swung open to Seungmin, innocently expecting Yongbok on his phone or ps5. His jaw instantly dropped before turning into a look mixed with disappointment and disgust.

Meanwhile you and Felix were flustered as all hell, you were still on the verge of cumming and basically helpless when tied up like this and Felix straight up froze. Seungmin left without saying a word and closed the door. You curse loudly as you cum and throw your head back but Felix is still frozen.

"Can you turn this vibrator off before I fall apart?" you whimper and Felix blushes.

"S-Sorry, yeah,"

Jisung

Han always holds you close when you have sex, skin ship is meaningful to him. He currently has you laid back, in missionary position, while he leans down to basically hug your body while he fucks you. Tonight was a night of lazy yet romantic sex. It wasn't about going fast or teasing it was just about experiencing pleasure with each other.

The two of you were surprisingly quiet for once, in the sense you weren't talking dirty to each other, the room filled with soft sighs and little groans. "You're so beautiful baby," Han groans into your ear as he begins to lose himself in you. You bring your hands up to claw at his sweaty back as your climaxes start to build.

Jisung bites down on your neck to quiet his moans and you let out a cry of pleasure and the door opens. Straight faced minho holding a grocery bag. You and Han freeze and look at Lee know surprised. "I got pudding...it's here if you guys want some when you're done," he gestures to the bag and leaves, closing the door behind himself. You and Han look at each other before laughing softly.

"He's so weird," you chuckle as you smile up at jisung. Han blushes and nods, his sweaty bangs falling into his face.

"He's always like that...pudding does sound nice after this though..."

Seungmin

Seungmin held your legs open wide as he licked circles around your folds, his finger flicking your G-spot teasingly at the same time. Seungmin is always such a tease, especially with foreplay and today it was driving you mad. "Please seungmin~" you whine as you pout down at him but your pleas have no effect on him. "Please!" You whine again and he shoves two fingers deep inside you.

You cry out as your body jerks forward.

"Stop whining," he growls and you whine as you throw your head back. His fingers steadily thrusted in and out of your tight wet folds as you fight the urge to squirm and wiggle around in pleasure. "Good girl," he smirks in a cold tone. Suddenly there's a knock on the door and you don't even know how to react but Seungmin doesn't stop his fingers.

You cry out in pleasure as Hyunjin opens the door. Seungmins rhythm never faltered even after Hyunjin was witnessing the scene.

"Go damn, okay, I'm leaving," hyunjin uses his hand to cover your body from his view as Seungmin glares at him. Hyunjin leaves in a hurry just as your orgasm hits. You claw at the sheets and let out a loud groan of pleasure, your legs shaking. Seungmin gently plays with your pussy to extend your orgasm and when you're finally finished you stare at him.

"Why didn't you stop?"

"You were close to cumming, an unwanted guest doesn't effect my performance baby,"

Jeongin

Jeongin is always such an interesting character in bed, very unpredictable. Tonight he decided that he wanted pussy right then and there and I mean, why wouldn't you comply? You ended up being folded underneath him with your legs on his shoulders, his cock effortlessly sliding in and out of you due to the build-up of arousal from your previous fun.

Your arms were wrapped around his back and clawing at his skin and hair. "Please Jeongin!" You cry out in pleasure as your head spins, and your eyes begin to water with desperation. You had been pushed so close to the edge countless times that now you couldn't even function like a normal human being; only a slut. There was then a knock on the door. Jeongin didn't even know how to react when the door began to open.

Bangchan stood in the door with bright smile before his jaw dropped. "Oh my bad," he laughs softly; jeongin lifts you up closer to him to cover your body from Chans view.

"Hyung get out!" He whines loudly, his dominant and rough facade fading due to the audience.

"of course, keep having fun," he smiles as he begins to close the door. "Oh and if you want those marks to go away faster I have some lotion that-"

"Get out!"

[fyodior]

⌕ pairing: rin itoshi x afab reader

⌕ warnings: aged up characters, thigh riding, somnophilia, reader is so fucking horny for rin in soccer mode. relatable. a (late) contribution to the @ficsforgaza kinktober intiative!! read the other works here !

⌕ word count: 1.05k

MORE A/B/O-TOBER HERE!

Attending Rin’s games was akin to watching a live sex demonstration playing out right in front of tens of thousands of eyes, including yours. The rippling of toned muscles as the men sprint down the fields, the displays of dexterity and precision as they expertly dribble and kick the ball away from their opponents, the grunts and groans of anger, desperation, success. All of it was straight out a fucking porno. 

Rin was no exception to this. The man was known for his intensity and dedication to his craft, immersing himself into the game until nothing else in the world existed in that moment outside of the ball and the other men on the field. His passion for his craft was magnetic, drew everyone’s eyes to him even if the spotlight wasn’t on him. Rin Itoshi was the shining star of Paris X Gen.

And you were unbearably turned on.

With every minute that passed, your chest pounded and pussy throbbed until you could barely think straight. 

The problem though, resided in the fact that games, especially those of extra high intensity, had somewhat of an opposite effect on Rin. Whereas you bounced through the door of your shared apartment, desperate to pounce on your boyfriend, Rin was fighting to keep his limbs moving and eyes open. Following him to the couch where he collapsed, head falling back, you excitedly settled on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You looked so fucking hot out there baby,” you purred, diving in to start kissing up his musky neck. He had taken a locker room shower, but they were brief, just enough to get the top layer of sweat off, so he - luckily - still had a lingering scent to him.

“Mmm, thank you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, eyes halfway closed as he rested a limp hand on your waist. 

“Couldn’t fucking wait to get my hands on you afterwards, so fuckin’ hot I could barely see straight.” Deft, impatient hands rubbed up and down his chest while you continued to mouth at Rin’s throat. 

“Mhm.”

The complete lack of reaction from your boyfriend had you frowning, leaning back to assess him. Eyes closed, he was already even snoring a bit. 

“Sorry honey, a little too-” a deep yawn interrupted his words. “-tired tonight.” His entire body seemed to have gone limp, his eyes fluttering shut all the way.

Fuck. With the throbbing ache between your legs clouding your judgment, there was no hope for just waiting for the lust to fade, and touching yourself wouldn’t even come close to satisfying you. But there was also no hope in trying to keep Rin awake.

Surely he wouldn’t mind if you used him just a little bit, right? Nothing too invasive…

The one part of Rin you couldn’t keep your eyes off the whole match, the part of his body that drove you so crazy it kept you awake at night, was what you knew could at least satisfy you enough - his thighs. And given that he was in shorts, that would be easy.

Shimmying off your own pants and underwear, you settled back into a snoring Rin’s lap, but this time you braced your legs against only one of his. With just a quick tug of his shorts leg closer to his crotch, you could rest your bare pussy against the skin of his toned thigh.

A whimper left your mouth even just at the skin-to-skin contact, your puffy clit that had been aching for hours desperate for relief. No noises or movements you had made though had woken the man up. Rin had already fallen into a deep sleep, evidence of how badly that game had worn him out. 

Once again wrapping your arms around his neck to anchor yourself, you slowly started rocking your hips to generate friction. The slick that had already been oozing out of your pussy for hours clung to the hairs on his thigh and allowed for smooth, fluid movements as you humped his thigh.

And fuck, it felt good. The taught skin of his toned, muscly thigh provided the perfect warm yet firm surface to rub your pussy against. Despite attempting to keep it slow so as not to disturb the exhausted man, getting a taste of such pleasure threw those pleasantries out of the window. 

Using two fingers, you spread open your lips wider so your clit could get full contact against Rin, gasping at the increased pressure. Increasing your speed, your mouth fell open as you humped Rin’s thigh, dragging your pussy back and forth against him.

“Rin, fuck,” you whined, tightening the grip you had on him for leverage. No response came from your boyfriend, other than a quiet snore.

It felt like your hips were moving independent from your body, stuttering and thrusting seemingly on their own as they desperately chased the pleasure and relief Rin’s body was providing. Slick trickled down his thigh as it dripped out of your pussy, evidence of your lust only growing. 

How Rin stayed soundly asleep despite your frantic humping, jostling his body as you used him like a toy, you didn’t know, but it became of almost no concern as your orgasm approached. 

With your mounting lust came images swirling in your mind of Rin on the soccer field, how gracefully yet forcefully he moved, dominating the game and the players around him like he owned the damn place. The very same thigh you were humping now was the one that powered the kick that catapulted P.X.G. into yet another win, thanks to the unstoppable Rin Itoshi. 

The high that had him falling to his knees on the grass and roaring like a wild animal, how hot it was when he let his pride and excitement really show instead of maintaining his constant stoicism, was what pushed you into your own high. Yowling like a cat, your hips stuttered frantically as your orgasm was within reach, head falling back as it finally washed over you in powerful waves.

Collapsing against him as you panted, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Here you were, whining and moaning and coming hard while your boyfriend was fast asleep underneath you.

“Sorry about that, baby,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “I owe ya one.”

[thatdisasterauthor]

I do indeed have much I can say on all of this! I don’t have time for a full breakdown, but let’s hit some key points.

🌪The Milton evacuation and changing the direction highways.

This is called “contraflow” and it is indeed a thing that is frequently used in evacuations. However, from what I understand, Florida might have laws against this? At least that’s what I’ve heard, or maybe just laws that do indeed make it very difficult. I haven’t had a chance to look into it too closely. And it is a tricky thing to do safely just off the cuff without a known procedure in place, which you wouldn’t have if it’s against the law in your area. You’ve gotta shut down all the exits/entrances accordingly so you don’t have issues with head-on traffic, you’ve gotta make sure you have effective alternate routes for emergency traffic, you’ve gotta have a space to reintegrate traffic into the proper lanes once the contraflow segment has ended, etc. etc.

You’re right that this isn’t a police problem, it’s a LAW problem. Maybe also a police problem in the sense of what trainings are available to them, what procedures they have in these situations, etc., but not an ACAB style police problem. Plenty of places DO use it, like I said. (Also, sometimes you’ll get spontaneous contraflow, where people just start doing on their own, but that’s a whole different can of worms.)

🚗 Over dependence on cars.

America is indeed super car dependent, but that’s not exactly the issue here, at least not in the way you’d think. First off, evacuations are just HARD. That’s a lot of people to move. Even if you took every large transport vehicle in a given area (so all the buses of any sort, any trains, any planes), you’re not going to get the entire population moved out in a timely manner, even if every seat is taken. It just isn’t feasible for so many reasons. People DO need to be able to evacuate via car. It’s also very dependent on the disaster in question. An evacuation for a hurricane is very different than most other evacuations due to the amount of time you, usually, have.

Now, one thing that happens and causes problems during evacuations is that people take ALL their cars instead of just one. Mom takes one car with the kids and as much stuff as possible stuffed in the back, and Dad takes his truck with the dogs and the bed piled high. A lot of evacuation planning doesn’t account for this. They see a four person family and think, “ah yes, the family sedan has six seats, they’ll just take that and go, we don’t need to plan for them to put both their cars on the road and at all the gas stations along the way.” But then they do take both cars, and so does every other family on the road, and suddenly you’ve got a shit ton more cars doing something that you expected a lot less cars to be doing. I have a lot more thoughts on this I can share later, if people are interested, but for now we shall move on.

(There’s also definitely an element of poor city planning and infrastructure in some places, but that’s very much a case by case thing.)

👩🏻‍🚒 We need a better emergency management system.

Yes! Though, actually, we already have a pretty good one as compared to other countries. Not great, by any means, but something like FEMA is pretty rare. Most countries just kind of ad hoc disaster response on a case by case basis, which is also what we did until we created FEMA in the 70s.

I have A LOT of thoughts about how we could improve the system as it currently stands, which is a big part of why I want to do a PhD in emergency management.

🔥 When to evacuate.

You mentioned this in relation to the Camp Fire, and that one is…yeah, that one was so bad. There’s a lot that goes into making evacuation decisions, and unfortunately studies have shown that a lot of emergency officials still believe the myth that people will panic if you give them too much information about a disaster. This leads to delays in evacuations, among other things. Also, evacuations are expensive, and that makes officials hold back. Plus, there’s the “cried wolf” effect where if it turns out the evacuation WASN’T needed, the next time it IS needed, people will be less likely to go, which again makes officials hold back.

With the Camp Fire, though, I don’t know if any of that specifically was what was at play. That thing just moved FAST. Also, this was a small mountain town. There were not a lot of ways out, just thin mountain roads. I guarantee those officials who made the evacuation call hesitated because they knew people WOULD get stuck on the few potential roads to safety. They weren’t making a choice about evacuation, they were making a choice on where they wanted people to be when the fire DID hit. Because it was going to hit. So do they concentrate people all in one spot, on a road that itself won’t burn but will be completely surrounded, or do they keep people spaced out all over town hoping that pockets of it might be safe? And they had to make that decision at the drop of a hat, knowing people were likely to die either way.

Fires are, in my opinion, the most terrifying thing to have to manage an evacuation for. They are both incredibly quick, but also potentially long lasting. They can shift direction at a moment’s notice. They can do things you never knew they could do. They can consume absolutely massive areas. They can die down and pop back up when you least expect it. And to be the person making the decision on how to handle that must be a very, very heavy weight.

👋🏻 People in positions of power just waving their hands.

Some do, some don’t. There are so, so many amazing people out there who care about this stuff and are doing their best to address these issues. But they need support. Taking over the department of transportation isn’t the answer, your local emergency management department is. Check out what their emergency plans look like, they should be on your county and state websites. Read through them, find the holes, go to meetings, contact your representatives. Be a nuisance to Congress RIGHT NOW.

🎓 Disaster education

Lastly, to @kyraneko’s point about needing better disaster education, yes! Yes we do! I think one of FEMA’s weakest points is its lack of addressing and helping individuals directly prior to a disaster, rather than in large groups. I’m working on it. Got a big project in the works that will, hopefully, start addressing this issue. And that’s not including the PhD.

Sooooooo….yeah! :D That ended up a lot longer than I thought, lol. Hope some of it was interesting to those of you who have made it to the end.

So I have a friend from high school who is a cop. (Yes, I KNOW.) I shared a photo on Facebook of a packed highway of people attempting to evacuate from Hurricane Milton, all while the lanes going in the opposite direction were open and empty. And my Facebook post was basically me screaming, “Open the other side of the highway and reverse it so that people can GET OUT.”

His response was essentially, “Yeah, that is *really* difficult for us to do.” Not in a condescending way, because he genuinely isn’t a huge asshole. (Yes, I KNOW.)

And then I may have vented in my response, in which I tried not to imply that the police were a problem. Because to be honest, I don’t see this as a police problem. I see this as how we have fucked ourselves as a nation by making ourselves so dependent on cars.

There is that poll on this site – or multiple polls, at this point – asking how long people can tolerate being in their cars. And the thing is, Americans (and Canadians as well, I am imagining) have almost no other options. We have to be used to spending a good 12 hours in a car without breaking a sweat. Everything in this country is built around being in a car. There’s a reason when you ask us how far away a place is from somewhere else, we normally give that distance in hours and not miles.

Air travel sucks. It sucks for a multitude of reasons – cost, the hassle of dealing with security, the time suck, etc. – and in an emergency, only a select few are going to be able to use it to get away from a hurricane. And that’s one of the few disasters where air travel is an optional escape.

Train travel sucks. Amtrak is not something you’re gonna be complaining about if you’re trying to get away from whatever disaster you need to evacuate from. But next to so many other countries, Amtrak looks like we’ve been receiving other countries’s leftover railway systems from the 70s. It also doesn’t go everywhere. I live in northeastern Pennsylvania near Scranton, which prides itself on its history in the train industry. We have a museum and everything. We have multiple things named after that museum, including the Steamtown marathon which is happening tomorrow.

Can you get on a passenger train in Scranton? Nope.

(The main argument against this always seems to be that people will come here from New York City and commit crimes, which is hilarious considering if somebody wanted to come here from New York City and commit crimes it’s only a 2.5-hour drive.)

Anyway, disasters.

If the only option you’re gonna give most people to get out of areas of Florida that are being targeted by hurricanes or areas of California that suffer from wildfires or places in the Midwest that face flooding are cars, then we need a better fucking emergency management system regarding transportation in this country. You can’t just sit there and mock people for not evacuating because they can’t or won’t when getting away from Milton meant sitting on highway for hours with absolutely no gas stations whatsoever nearby having any gas at all. (It just makes me think of those photos of people stranded on the highway in their cars in blizzards where people are like, “Now imagine imagine how bad it would be if all of those cars were electric!“ Well, all of those cars in that photo in that blizzard run on gas and they’re fucking stranded, sooooooo.)

Look, we can change the transportation system in this country. we did it before and we can do it again. We used to have more train options, fewer highways. My small hometown had a fucking trolley in the 40s. Now, if you don’t have a car here, you’re stuck. You can’t even get Uber here. if a wildfire started here and surrounded the town, it would be a clusterfuck.

Regardless of how you feel about the police, if police and fire departments in this country cannot organize an evacuation on a highway in a way that will reduce the backup so that tens of thousands of people aren’t sitting in their cars when a hurricane hits, that’s a problem – not just for those people, but for the police, and the fire department, and emergency management in general.

The people in charge of emergency management are just people, just human. I’m researching the Camp Fire in 2018 right now, and you had a bunch of people calling 911 saying, “I can see a huge fire off to the east. Are we safe? Should we evacuate?” The 911 operators could only work off the information they had. They could have told people to evacuate earlier, but Cal Fire didn’t anticipate the strength of the fire. Which is understandable. Nobody could anticipate the strength of that fire. But the 911 operators were sitting in an office with no windows, and they had no idea what was going on the east. They couldn’t look out and see exactly what was happening. If they could have, they probably would have told people to leave as soon as possible much sooner than they were told to. Instead, they waited for official confirmation, and when they did start telling people to evacuate, traffic managed to back up in a small town of 25,000 people until many of them were trapped in an unimaginable hellscape.

When people need to evacuate from a disaster, and they stay instead, far too many people - including those in positions of power – just kind of wave their hands and say, “Well, we tried.” No, we didn’t. This country made not trying its watchword, and now we’re at a point where unless you own a car, which is a luxury a lot of people cannot afford in this economy, escaping from disaster is impossible. So you can get in your car or somebody else’s car and go sit on a highway and hope your gas doesn’t run out, since none of the gas stations for 100 miles have any gas to give you, or you can stay in your house and hope you don’t die.

Sometimes, I really wish somebody would make me the head of the department of transportation. I would demand an absurd amount of money to build a better train system, to provide better transportation options for smaller towns, to provide extensive training for rescue personnel in managing evacuations like the clusterfuck in Florida this week. I would become an absolute fucking nuisance to Congress. I would be asking for money left and right to make it so that our only options as Americans weren’t to get into cars we can barely afford these days and attempt to organize our own evacuations from the growing number of natural disasters in this country.

Y’all keep posting these polls about how long you can tolerate being in a car at the same time that tens of thousands of Floridians were sitting on highways trying to get away from Tampa so they wouldn’t die in a hurricane.

We can tolerate being in a car all goddamn day. It’s because we don’t have a fucking choice, even when it’s life or death.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Could you write “How would Viktor does when reader has depression”.

Of course! Thanks for the ask pookie :)

These r a little short because I am still ill (and my head is literally killing me as I type this) but Viktor is more important than getting well!! (Also bawling my eyes out after act 3, even though I'd still love Viktor nonetheless, machine or not, he's getting it)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO: Mentions of Depression (obviously), GN!Reader, sweet Fluff, Viktor has no clue what he's doing in all honesty, he tries (and succeeds) to be sweet

2 Stories - One more casual/not yet dating and the other is established relationship

You've been off lately, Viktor had noticed. Isolating yourself bit by bit, looking more tired and overall acting just weird. You've had your phases before, but this one was too long. It wasn't like you at all. You've barely even spoken to him or Jayce, when usually you'd yap both their ears off about whatever topic you had learned about the previous night. Now, the lab was silent. Jayce was away on some Council party, and god knows Viktor would never start a conversation on his own while working. Though, he couldn't focus tonight. He mindlessly tinkered with small parts that laid around his desk, his thoughts clouded with the question of what was bothering you. Whatever it was, it bothered him as well. He'd never say, but he missed the cheery and chipper way you'd usually be.

"Are you... alright?" He questions after a while, clearing his throat slightly. This was already too awkward for him, but he did care. Totally just because the atmosphere of the lab would suffer if you weren't your usual self. He noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably as he glanced over to where you were sitting, like you were pondering how to answer. He wondered why you'd need so long to think of an answer, as if you couldn't tell him the truth. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I just haven't been sleeping well." You answer, a soft, akward chuckle slipping from your lips. Viktor doesn't like that answer. You're different from how you are when you're just tired - not that he actually paid attention to that, but you weren't on your fifth cup of coffee yet. Actually, you hadn't had coffee at all today, another unusual happening. He sighs softly, and you immediatly know that he's gotten into questioning mode - he was a scientist after all. He really couldn't help it. "You can talk to me, you know? We don't have to be lab partners and nothing else, we can be friends." He speaks, his voice softer than before. "What's bothering you, hm?" Viktor adds, turning his chair around to look at you properly. It's your turn to sigh, letting your head hang slightly. "I've just been... feeling off. Like, actually tired but in a mental way? I don't know how to explain." You mutter, awkwardly averting your gaze from him. "We should take a day off, then. Do whatever you want instead of working." Viktor answers casually. "I don't want to miss important stuff in the lab Viktor, I can't take a day off." You throw back at him. He huffs, a slight chuckle filling the room. "Not you. Us. Maybe all three, if Jayce is willing." He clarifies, already noting it down in his notebook to make sure that day off actually happens.

Viktor noticed the moment he woke up next to you. You'd fallen into another slump. He could tell just by the way you didn't just not want to get up - it was a physical challenge for you. He's seen you like this before, though usually it didn't last too long, at least not that he's noticed, maybe only a day or two at most. But by now, it's been almost a week, and you haven't spoken to him about it. You've been more abrasive, have started caring less about your personal hygiene, and while Viktor doesn't mind, he always hated when you didn't take proper care of yourself. He wanted you to feel good, not fall into a depressive hole. He offered to take a shower or bath with you, to make a game out of brushing your teeth, but you had shut everything down. It wasn't because you didn't think the ideas were sweet, but more because you didn't think you even deserved that much effort. Viktor had to helplessly watch you get worse, and he couldn't even do anything to properly help. It was absolute hell to him.

He'd had enough, wanted to be mad at you, even, but he couldn't blame you for it. He could, however, force you to stay cuddled up in bed with him. You liked staying in bed anyway, and cuddling with him was always one of your favourites. So, here you two were, snuggled into the covers of Viktors way too confortable bed. "You know that I love you, right?" Viktor mumbled, his accent more heavy with sleep. He didn't say it enough, at least that's what he thought. "I do know..." you answered, just as sleepily. "I know you can't control this.. but let me help you, please? I know it's hard, trust me I do, but I hate having to watch from the sidelines as you get worse..." He sighs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Let me just be there for you, yeah, my dear?" Viktor adds, pulling away slightly to look at you. "Alright.. I'll... I'll try, I promise." You answer, scooting back towards him so you could press your face into the crook of his neck, basking in his warmth for a little longer.

[al0velyuniverse]

Body Shots Pt.2

The long awaited part two, I kinda got carried away with this one... Please enjoy :)

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

Pt.1 | Pt.2 |

CW: Drinking (duh), Simon lends you to Gaz (consensually), semi-public sex, mutual masturbation

The second time you suggested body shots was in a crowded and busy bar, Simon’s favorite. 

One of Simon’s hands rested on your thigh while the other held his glass. The team had just come back from assignment and they were celebrating Gaz for something he had done. It wasn’t entirely explained to you, all you knew was what Simon told you “We’re celebratin’ Garrick and he requested your presence Dove…wear somethin’ low cut… ‘e likes the view.” So you put on your lowest cut top (it was practically a bralette, no bra needed), your favorite mini skirt, and happily accompanied him to the bar. You were keenly aware of the way Gaz couldn’t stop staring at your chest, it was like you were the only worthwhile thing to look at. You gave Simon a kiss on the cheek and told him you were going to grab another drink from the bar, you did your best to slide out of the booth with grace and tried not to smile at the fact that you knew they were all watching your ass as you moved. When you came back Johnny was the first to notice what you were carrying to the table: a shot glass filled  with a chilled amber liquid. He nudged Gaz with the least amount of subtlety you’ve ever seen him exhibit. You rolled your eyes with a smile “get up Johnny, this isn’t for you.” As soon as he stood up you took his place on the booth next to Gaz and he took the spot you had previously occupied. 

You gently placed the glass on the table while you got yourself situated. You adjusted your top just a little bit, noticing Simon giving you a smirk when he realized how Gaz would be taking this shot. You could practically hear Gaz’s heart beating out of his chest when took his hand and placed each one on either side of your chest, encouraging a tight hold to keep them together. He gave you the slightest look of confusion at the action “we’re celebrating you aren’t we?” You have to suppress a laugh when you see Gaz look over to Simon, terrified that your boyfriend would look like he was going to kill him. All he got was a ‘go ahead’ gesture which was all the two of you needed. All eyes were on you as you grabbed the shot glass and carefully poured the liquid onto your chest, watching it pool between your tits. With only a second of hesitation Gaz dipped his head down and began to messily slurp the liquid best he could, the feeling of his lips and tongue against your skin sent chills down your spine. Somewhere to the side you hear Johnny whining followed by a thud and “shut it Mactavish, you’ll get your turn” When Gaz had drunk up the shot and sat back up properly he looked crazed, like he wanted to pounce on you right then and there. You and Simon shared a knowing glance like it was an unspoken conversation between you two, him telling you exactly what to do without even saying a word. 

You stepped out of the booth and reached for Gaz’s hand “c’mon.” Your smile was sweet and unassuming when he took your hand and stood up with you. You leaned up for a moment to place a kiss on Gaz’s lips, the taste of liquor still prevalent “let’s go celebrate you.” As you pulled a stunned Gaz behind you Simon had to practically restrain a whining Johnny from getting up and following the pair of you. “S’not fair! Come on L.T.” Simon did not give him a response, just handed him a beer the way you’d give milk to a child to placate it. You should have noticed Price's eyes practically burning holes into you, it was the same way he stared the first time when you licked salt off of your boyfriend. It was a look that told you that you were walking a dangerous line, a look that told you the second he had the chance he was going to eat you alive. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice the look at all.

The whining Scotsman was barely registering in your brain as you walked away and pulled Gaz into the bathroom with you. He made sure the lock was done properly, couldn’t have anyone coming in to stop the fun. You didn’t even have to tell him what to do, Gaz was already planting sloppy kisses along your chest and desperately trying to pull your top off, or to the side, or something, anything to give him better access to the tits he’d been staring at and fantasizing about all night. His attempts were messy and uncoordinated, almost feral. “Careful, you’ll rip it” you uttered with a breathy laugh, trying not to lose your composure totally just yet. “Don’t care” Gaz’s voice was muffled, seeing as his mouth was in a similar spot that it had been when he had taken the shot. In an attempt to make sure the man didn’t rip your favorite shirt to shreds you pushed him back slightly to slide it off over your head. As soon as he had unlimited access you could feel Gaz’s mouth latch to one of your nipples, tongue and teeth playing rough with the sensitive flesh. The sensation caused a whimper to escape from your lips.

It wasn’t long before the man was grinding his hips against you like a dog in heat, desperation evident in his unsteady jerking movements. In an attempt to help him out you reached your hand down to palm him over his jeans, trying to give him any sort of assistance that you could. One of Gaz’s hands was immediately on yours, guiding you to undo the zipper to his jeans and pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to let his aching cock spring free. His lips moved to yours while you reached down to take him into your hand properly, in reaction he let out a soft groan into your mouth and gently pushed your back against the wall. Gaz rutted into your hand in an attempt to match your movements, you made special care to gather as much of the pre-cum leaking from his tip as you could to use as makeshift lube. You leaned your head back against the wall as Gaz’s lips moved from yours to your jaw, then down to your neck and chest. As if in perfect sync with his lips you could feel his hand move down to push your skirt up, exposing your cunt leaking through the thin fabric of your thong. His fingers pushed the flimsy fabric to the side to dip his fingers between your folds, he dragged his down wet fingers up to circle your clit, sending a rush up pleasure through your body. 

Gaz’s lips refused to give up, kissing and sucking at your neck and chest, offering the occasional bite to your soft skin that was sure to leave a mark. He pulled back for only a moment to watch the way your mouth hung up in whiney breaths as he rubbed your sensitive nub. You watch his face contort into a smirk and before you could process the implications you could feel his finger pressing into your hole, it wasn’t the biggest stretch you’d ever had of course but you were so worked up at this point your eyes practically rolled back into your head. “Oh fuck…well ain’t that just the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen…” after a moment he slowly work a second finger into you and your hands movement faltered. Gaz’s free hand was quickly over yours and he was helping you get him off “oh come on pretty thing, don’t give up on me now” he cooed softly. Once he was satisfied with your return to properly getting him off Gaz’s mouth moved back up to your chest his tongue circling and playing with one nipple while his hand played with the other. You could feel him all over you, in any spot you could be sensitive he was there, it was dizzying and overwhelming in the most delicious way. 

You were getting close, and Gaz could tell. His fingers curled up and stroked that spongy spot that made you a little crazy, his thumb now added to the pleasure however, circling your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers. You could feel the coil tightening and just begging to snap, your hips betraying you by grinding into his hand in desperate unsteady movement. His teeth grazed against your nipple, biting down a little harshly. You moved your own hand in increasingly intense movements the closer you got. “Fuck, fuck Gaz im gonna…” he leaned down and kissed you softly “go ‘head pretty girl, cum for me. Wanna feel you fall apart on my fingers.” You didn’t need much more encouragement than that before you did just that, Gaz continued to move his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm. “There you go…that’s it, such a good girl f’me” Your breathing was staggering as you attempted to calm yourself down and continue your hands movement, wanting to get him off as well. You watched Gaz pull his fingers out of you and immediately place them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around your fingers with an obscene moan. 

Before you could process what was happening Gaz was pushing you down to your knees “wanna cum on those perfect fuckin tits pretty girl.” His hand overlapped yours and the two of you jerked him off together, moans and whines slipping through the man's lips as his hips thrusted against your hands. You leaned up the best you could to put your mouth around his tip, letting your tongue swirl around it and giving him plenty of attention. That seemed to be the man's tipping point because your head was quickly being yanked back as hot white ropes of cum shot out of his cock onto your chest. When he was finished you both sat there for a moment, catching your breath and attempting to calm yourselves down. 

Once you had both settled Gaz lifted you off of your knees and into the bathroom counter. You watched as he grabbed a paper towel and wet it with warm water. “Sorry for makin’ such a mess, you just…christ you’re fuckin stunnin’ you know that” You let out a small laugh as he gently wiped his cum off of your chest, taking care to be soft with you, it felt nice letting him take care of you like this. Once he was Satisfied Gaz took a moment to step back and examine you “think Ghost is gonna kill me when he sees these hickeys?” The statement was accompanied by a laugh that he tried to play off as casual, but you could hear the slight anxiety behind it. Your boyfriend’s possessive nature was never really a secret and you both knew that. “Not sure he would have let us disappear like this is he wasn’t expecting a few hickeys you know?” Gaz helped you put your shirt back on and readjust your skirt, you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs a little.

When the two of you finally wandered back to the table you were met with an incredibly drunk Johnny, leaning fully against your boyfriend and ranting about something with such a thick accent there was no way any of you could understand him. He jumped up at the sight of you “aye! Bonnie lass, whensit gonna be mahturn with ya right stunning self eh?” The slurred words made you laugh and place a soft kiss on his cheek “I dunno Johnny, gonna have to take that one up with the boss” you say, gesturing to Simon who was staring you down with such an intensity that made you squirm. Johnny moved so you could sit down next to your boyfriend, he moved on to pestering Gaz to tell him about what exactly happened in the bathroom with you two. Simon’s arm was around you the second you were by his side and he was placing a kiss to your jaw “have fun love?” His voice was low, clearly wanting to keep the conversation between you two “I did, and so did your boy” your response made him laugh “I can tell, he left quite a few marks on ya dove. Gonna have to leave a few of my own when we get home don’t you think?” Your response came in the form of a gentle kiss to his lips and a soft “we can do whatever you want when we get home Si” 

The five of you continued to drink and celebrate, Johnny and Gaz getting more boisterous the more they drank which provided you and Simon with plenty of entertainment. Your eyes did a scan of the group: Simon was watching the two clowns across the table from you two, Johnny and Gaz were talking about something borderline incomprehensible that only the two of them seemed to understand. Your heart skipped a beat when you turned slightly to face Price. Your eyes locked and you saw a dark intensity swirl in his eyes, helooked hungry. Like the only thing he wanted in that moment was to bend you over the table and let everyone watch him fuck you to tears. He was jealous. He wanted his turn just as much as Johnny did. Something in your gut told you that when he did he might just break you. You went to turn your head away when you suddenly felt Simon's hand grasp your jaw, keeping you in place, keeping you staring at price. Your eyes glanced up at your boyfriend the best they could, his own expression matching Price’s. Your Stomach twisted in knots when you realized: Price was going to break you, and Simon was going to happily let him.

You couldn’t help but feel excited. 

[mattluvr]

dad!matt, a concept.

best read in dark mode ⏾

🧸 part ii — the labour. . .

ᡣ𐭩 october 22nd. 6am. exactly one day late, and yours and matt’s daughter is on the way.

you’re nervous, naturally, the mere sight of the soaked bedsheets from where your waters broke moments ago making your chest feel tight; it hadn’t really sunk in that you’d actually have to give birth eventually, the pain slowly creeping its way through your body planting reality in place. even more so when the first contraction grips you.

you move towards matt, seeking comfort in his hold as the pain ripples through you. “fuck, i didn’t think it would hurt this bad.” you mutter through gritted teeth, nails clamping onto matt’s shoulders.

he sighs, rubbing the small of your back in soft circles as his eyebrows draw together. he’s concerned, obviously, but the contraction passes quickly, and he seizes the opportunity to grab your hospital bag and pack you up into the car.

after you did your hair and makeup of course.

ᡣ𐭩 the journey to the hospital is more dangerous than the one from your labour scare a month ago; matt drives faster with only one hand on the wheel, the other clutched in yours as you use it to ground you through each contraction.

they’re more often and closer together, which you know from the endless pregnancy books you read is a telltale sign of your cervix dilating, and you silently start to pray this also means that the rest of pregnancy goes smoothly, complication free.

although, judging by the death grip matt has on your hand, you’re not sure whether you can rule out the prospect of your boyfriend fainting from pure stress.

he pulls into the hospital’s parking lot in a record time of 10 minutes, at least five speeding tickets with his name written all over them, but does not stop to give either of you time to breathe, a whirlwind as he rushes round to your side, hospital bag from the trunk already resting in the crook of his arm.

you laugh, accepting matt’s outstretched hand as you amble towards the entrance to the hospital. “i’ve never seen you move you fast.”

ᡣ𐭩 you and matt check in at reception, with only one contraction marring your words, and the midwives are quick to find you a room and gown.

you change in the bathroom, trying your very best to ignore how the contractions make you double over each time, the green pattern on the hospital gown making your eyes hurt alongside the baby. you settle down in the bed and your midwife introduces herself to you and matt as she hooks you up to a monitor, the name betty suiting her grey curls and soft smile perfectly.

although you like betty less when she tells you that you’re only 3cm dilated. out of 10. matt swears your expression could curdle milk in that moment and he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“you’ve got to remember that each birth is different, so this could take a long time or a short time.” betty reassures you as she props the pillows up behind you. “you can help the labour pass by moving around. we can bring in a yoga ball if you’d like?”

matt answers for you anyways. “absolutely.”

ᡣ𐭩 betty comes in throughout the day to check in on you; she brings you the yoga ball at 8am when you finally dilate one centimetre, helping you lower down onto the contraption, with matt by your side the second a sliver of pain crosses your face.

he rubs those soft circles into your back, and you rest your head on his torso when you bounce up and down. which obviously makes matt laugh, a mindless comment about how this is a familiar sight passing his lips, causing you to glare in turn, claiming that he’s making your contractions worse. that shuts him up.

ᡣ𐭩 at 10am, you’re 6cm dilated, the yoga ball long abandoned in the corner of the room; you now find yourself on all fours on the hospital bed, rocking back and forth slowly. in your head it’s helping with the pain, but the real soother is matt’s constant presence next to you, the simple sound of his breathes calming you.

he’s already made the respective phone calls to his parents and brothers, nick audibly crying from joy over the phone whilst chris whooped and cheered.

“I’M GOING TO HAVE A NIECE BY THE END OF THE DAY!”

“would you calm the fuck down?” matt had hissed. “we’re in a hospital right now.”

“i wish they could see my death glare.” you had piped up, easing your rocking to look over at matt. he offers you an apologetic glance, hushing a see you later to the boys on the phone before hanging up.

you don’t even let matt apologise, babbling out words before your next contraction hits you. “can you call my mom?”

he doesn’t even hesitate. and that’s why you love him.

ᡣ𐭩 the next hour flies by, a centimetre passing every 20 minutes, marking you at 9cm dilated by 11am and crying from how badly it hurts.

the midwives have moved you back to a flat position, your legs now in stirrups to give them easier access for checkups. matt is crouched down by your side, pushing your hair out of your face as you blubber in agony.

“i don’t think i can do this, matt.”

“are you kidding me?” matt squeezes your hand, his expression soft as he moves forward to peck your forehead. “you are the strongest, prettiest, most powerful girl i know. i love you and this baby, and i know you can do this.”

the tears from that point onwards are mixed with joy, comforted by matt’s presence beside you.

ᡣ𐭩 at 11:30am, you’re ready to have your baby girl. biologically, maybe not mentally, your chest tightening as betty tells you with a soft smile that you’re now ready to start the process of pushing. but on the other hand, you’ve gone through at least 20 years worth of pain in the space of 5 hours and want nothing more than to get this baby out of you. so you reluctantly agree.

with matt’s hand clutched in yours, you lean forwards into each push, ungodly screams leaving your mouth in an attempt to cancel out the pain gripping you.

“good work, keep going!” betty spurs you on, her scrubs confined by an apron as she waits in anticipation. “the head’s almost there, a few more pushes!”

you exhale, turning to matt who gives you an encouraging nod despite his pale complexion, the boy about three minutes away from fainting. which almost pushes you on, now desperate to get your daughter out into the world before her dad passes out. you sit up on your elbows once more, vision blurred as you start the final stretch.

the head is out before you know it, and with one more weak push, the rest of your daughter is out into the world, sobs spilling out of your mouth as betty brings her up to nestle by you.

her lungs are full, both your cries mixed together in the thick atmosphere of the hospital room, matt’s own tears hidden as he leans over to observe his baby, shaky fingers reaching out to caress her skin.

he moves back to press another kiss to your forehead. “i told you you could do it.”

ᡣ𐭩 october 22nd, at 11:33am, your daughter arrives into the world, and you and matt’s lives are about to be changed in the best ways possible.

taglist. . .

( @aelinslegend, @mattslolita, @emely9274, @conspiracy-ash, @chrissturniolossidehoe, @mattbrainrot ) is open!

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 76: Oliver's Rescue

Previous > Masterlist

tw: mind control, captivity, conditioning, drugging, blood ritual

October 1925

Oliver.

His master's song was muffled and far away, but still carried his name. Oliver tried to respond, but he couldn't seem to move.

Wake up.

His eyelids were like lead, his body stiff and heavy. The world tilted and dipped, and he realized that he was being carried.

Wake up, Oliver.

His master sounded scared, desperate. Why…

Oliver remembered what had happened, the fight with the vampire hunter, how he'd allow himself to be taken in the hopes that his master would be spared. The voice echoing in his head at least meant that his master was still alive, and communicating with him through the link between them that he rarely used.

If he was now in the clutches of the hunter, he definitely didn't want her to realize that he was awake. Instead, he kept his eyes shut tight and did his best to reach out to the voice in his head.

The communication wasn't in words, exactly, but in feelings and in song, and Oliver felt slow and clumsy as he tried to connect. He could feel his master's concern, and he did his best to convey that he was drugged, but unharmed.

The mental conversation was interrupted by a woman's voice. "Oh god, is that Oliver?"

"I sure hope so," said the hunter, "because it was like hell to rescue him."

"What's wrong with him? Is he okay?" The woman's voice seemed vaguely familiar, but Oliver couldn't quite place it in his foggy mind.

"I had to put him to sleep. I botched it and failed to kill his master. That means he could alert his master to the location of the safehouse if he figures out where he is -- and his master is a terrifyingly dangerous vampire. If you don't want to end up a thrall again…"

"He would do that?"

Oliver felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in the woman's voice, particularly since he had, in fact, just been communicating with his master. But he only wanted Alexander to retrieve him, not to harm anyone else, not even this hunter.

"Unfortunately, yes. Given his master's skills, it's safe to say that Oliver is a danger to everyone here. That's why I'll have to prepare to unenthrall him right away, and we'll have to make sure he can't escape or figure out where he is in the meantime."

The guilt was replaced by panic as Oliver tried to somehow relay this information to Alexander through their limited connection. Oliver wasn't sure if he understood, but he did feel a surge of anger in response, one which rippled through him as though it were his own.

"Shit, he's awake."

Oliver's eyes flew open, and he was looking into the face of the hunter who had kidnapped him, who had been carrying him princess-style through what looked like a run-down house. With his cover blown, he struggled out of the hunter's arms, only to flop ungracefully on the floor, still heavily drugged.

"Oliver!"

The face of the other woman swam into view, and he realized who the voice belonged to.

"Emily?" he croaked, his mouth parched.

"Help me restrain him," said the hunter sternly, hauling Oliver up by his armpits. "I'll need some extra time to prepare the ritual, and we have to make sure he can't escape."

"I don't want a ritual," Oliver protested weakly. "Just let me go. I don't need to be rescued."

"Get the sleeping draught from my bag and splash some under his nose. Be careful not to breathe it yourself."

"All right."

With his limbs still clumsy and slow, Oliver couldn't manage to get away from the hunter's strong arms holding him from behind. All he could do was thrash and hold his breath as Emily followed the hunter's instructions and smeared some of the potent sleeping potion under his nose. Even as he tried to hold his breath, he could still smell the sickly sweetness, his head starting to spin.

"That's good," said the hunter in his ear. "I know you don't believe me now, but I'm trying to help you."

Oliver wanted to protest further. He did know what the hunter was doing, he really did, but she just didn't understand his particular situation. He wasn't like Emily, whose master was planning to discard her the moment she was bored. Alexander needed him.

Didn't he?

But he'd thought about getting away before, hadn't he? When he first learned about Alexander's sire, and even before that, back in the auction house…

His head swirled with confusion as the sleeping concoction began to take hold once again. He found he couldn't offer any resistance as the hunter pulled him onto a chair and tied his arms and legs down, placing a blindfold around his eyes.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," she said, "but it really is for your own good. You'll see."

As Oliver's thoughts began to fade, he could hear the increasingly frantic music of his master, trying to reach him, but to no avail.

---

When Oliver was finally able to crack open his eyes again, he had no idea if he'd been out for five minutes or five hours. The ropes binding him into the chair chafed his wrists, and he felt stiff.

"Oh, are you awake? Vivian said you might wake up again before she was ready."

He managed to lift his heavy head, still disoriented. He was in the same dingy house as before, in a room that was mostly empty except for his chair and one other. Emily was sitting in an armchair reading the newspaper, looking very different than she had the last time Oliver had seen her, dressed in a plain blue shirt and khaki pants instead of a stylish dress and heels.

"Please don't put me back to sleep," he said. "I just want to talk." His master's song had faded from his head, giving him a little more space to think.

She put down the newspaper. "All right, but Vivian told me to put you back to sleep if you cause any trouble."

"Is Vivian the vampire hunter?"

"Yeah. She rescued me." Emily was staring at Oliver as though sizing him up. "She's trying to save people from vampires. I owe her everything. You remember me, don't you?"

"I do," said Oliver.

"I told her to go find you, since I felt guilty about what happened in the auction house, that I couldn't help you when you were being hypnotized. Now we're even, or we will be, I guess."

"You didn't have to do that," said Oliver. "I'm glad you got out. Your master…" He shuddered thinking of Emily with her mind gone, the way Jessica had done the same to him in only a moment. "She was awful. And she was going to throw you away. You didn't deserve that."

"I appreciated that, you know. When you tried to stand up for me in front of all the vampires. I didn't really understand what you were trying to say then, but I do now," she said. "And Vivian's going to do the same thing for you. She'll free you from enthrallment."

Oliver's gut churned. A part of him certainly felt like he should want it -- but more in the way that one feels one should want to do chores or exercise or tedious errands. He should want his mind restored, to be free of the vampires' influence…

…but it had been good for him, hadn't it? The situation forced him to admit to himself a truth he was trying to avoid -- that he had been drifting through life with no real purpose. He'd spent so many lonely, dull days in the bookstore, his only highlights a new acquisition or a particularly interesting customer. But with the vampires, he'd felt useful. Fulfilled. He'd tasted bliss, even if it was artificial…

"She doesn't need to do that," said Oliver. "I know it probably sounds crazy, but I was fine with my master. He treats me well, and I'm happy, and I really don't have anyone who's looking for me or anything that important to go back to, to be honest."

"What about your bookshop?" she demanded. "The entire time we were locked up, that's all you talked about, all the improvements you wanted to make to your bookshop. Remember?"

"Of course I do." He could never forget the bookshop, the place where he'd spent the vast majority of his life from childhood. He knew every nook and cranny so well, the smell of dust and book bindings, the way certain floorboards creaked, the uneven stairs up to his apartment, his comfortable chair piled with lumpy blankets. And he remembered being so desperate to get back there. When had he stopped thinking about his bookshop?

"Then you know you need to get back there, right?"

"Yes, I do, but…" The thought of his master's song, of the loneliness in his eyes, pulled him back. Oliver had been lonely, too. The idea of returning to his bookshop alone and resuming his former life felt strangely cold. "My master also needs me. I keep him company, and I help him get to sleep, and I…"

"Let him drink your blood."

Heat rose in Oliver's face as he thought of it, unwilling to fully admit to himself how much he would miss that particular aspect of his new life. "Yes, but -- he gives me so much in return. And it isn't so bad, really. It's -- it's pleasant, almost, in a strange way."

Emily sighed. "If you could listen to yourself… I remember you telling me how much you didn't want them to take your mind, how you hated the idea of being food for some monster, and now you're blushing and stammering just to think about it. The vampires really did do a number on you, didn't they? Not that I can talk. I had my memories completely erased, and they still aren't fully back."

"I'm sorry they did that to you," he said, and meant it. "I do know what I said then, but that was before I knew what it would be like. My master -- Alexander really has been kind to me, and I've enjoyed living with him, and not just because I was hypnotized. I mean, I was allowed to keep most of my mind…"

"Allowed to keep your mind?" she said. "Oliver, you're completely wrapped around that vampire's fingers."

"I'm not --"

"Don't you remember that I saw you at the Tiger's Eye? You were fawning all over that vampire's lap, letting him dote on you like a house cat."

Oliver was about to retort and point out that she was no different -- but that would only prove her point, considering how clearly ensorcelled she'd been. Was that how he had looked to other people? He had hardly considered it, too used to only being in the company of vampires and thralls.

Emily must be right. He really was that far under his master's spell, wasn't he? How could he ever think otherwise?

"But it's okay," she said. "Vivian has a ritual to undo most of the enthrallment. You'll be free."

"Free." It should be a joyous thing, so why did it feel like having a bucket of ice water upended over him?

Everything he had felt between his capture and now, had it all been a fabrication, a hypnotic illusion? The warm and comforting evenings, his deep satisfaction at serving his master, even those traces of affection? Was it all a lie, a soap bubble that could be so easily popped?

And the way his master wanted him and cherished him, refused to let him go, was that also just an act to keep Oliver in line?

"Hey, are you okay?" Emily asked. "I know it's a lot to think about."

Oliver nodded, trying not to cry. As much as he knew he should be grateful for the rescue, a greater part of him wished he were still back in the manor, his quiet evening uninterrupted, curled next to his master and reading to his heart's content.

Was it really so terrible, to be lost in an illusion? He'd spent his entire life with his mind three-quarters of the way in a book at all times. Was this so different?

But no matter how much he desired it, he'd never be truly safe with Alexander, not with the threat of his sire looming over them both. Freedom meant he'd never have to feel that sickening control wrap around his limbs ever again, never again blinded and degraded and forced to dance. Even as he thought it, though, he doubted it could be so easy. Could this hunter actually defy that vampire? Was a witch's ritual enough to deliver Oliver from his clutches?

The stairs creaked, and the vampire hunter entered the room. She'd divested herself of most of her kit, but that silver knife, the one she'd pressed against Oliver's neck, was still strapped to her belt. Behind her, a woman with red hair and a gray housecoat stood, looking a bit dazed.

"Oh, he's awake," said Vivian. "How are you feeling, Oliver?"

"I've had better nights," he said. He dimly remembered how he'd felt when Lily had him dragged him out of his cell, the loss of his mind inevitable. Why did he feel exactly like that now?

"You'll feel better once we've freed you from the vampire's hold on your mind," she said. "Well, you may feel worse before you feel better, but that's only because it can be hard to use your own mind again."

Oliver nodded. What else could he do? The ropes bit into his wrists.

"Emily, is it safe to untie him, or is he going to try and escape?"

Emily shook her head. "I don't think it's safe. He's very far gone."

Oliver wanted to protest, but he wasn't sure himself, torn between what he wanted and what he knew he should want.

"All right. I'll just untie him from the chair and leave the rest of his binds. Jenny, can you help?"

Vivian and the woman with her, Jenny, began to untie him from the chair, but as instructed, his wrists and ankles were still firmly bound together, preventing him from moving much. Vivian picked him up in her strong arms as though he were a sack of potatoes, and made her way back to the stairs. Oliver didn't bother to try and struggle, knowing it would be fruitless.

Emily and Jenny helped Vivian maneuver her parcel up the stairs and into the attic, and Oliver's chest tightened to see the chalk circles on the floor, stained in blood. So this was it -- and his desire to be back home with his master overtook any other sense in him. He involuntarily squirmed and thrashed, and the women nearly dropped him.

"Let me go!" he said. "I've changed my mind, I don't want this! Just let me go back!"

"Hold onto him! Get him in the circle!"

Master, he called out in his mind. Master, where are you?

He was placed in the middle of the circle, unable to stand or do anything but writhe like a pathetic worm.

"Just close your eyes and try to relax, Oliver." Vivian knelt in the circle in front of him, taking out her silver knife, and he flinched away from it. "You'll be glad that we helped you. I promise."

Master!

The connection to Alexander returned, and Oliver was overwhelmed with the feeling of despair and panic, adding to his own. He knew what his master was trying to say, that he didn't know where Oliver was, and Oliver couldn't offer any useful information. Even if he could, it'd be far too late.

Vivian sliced open her own hand and dripped her blood into the circle, chanting low. The music inside Oliver rose to a frantic crescendo. He felt something smeared on his forehead, couldn't flinch away in time.

It was too late.

The music stopped.

Previous > Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading about a man who was enthralled.

Important Note: There will be no new Bookseller chapters for the next two Sundays! I hope to occasionally post some other work you may enjoy, though. Bookseller will return in December.

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[m4rv3l-girl]

I got this idea from another user @logansgaar who recently posted about Bucky language switching. I thought it’d be a funny and interesting post, our Bucky Barnes forgetting the English word and maybe Sam and the likes really confused and he keeps repeating the word he’s meaning in another language? Idk.

Can you make it a Bucky x Reader?

In English, Bucky

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: None

Bucky wasn’t new to the chaos that came with remembering—or forgetting—things. After decades of Hydra programming and years of self-reclamation, some parts of his life still felt like piecing together a shattered mirror.

This week? It was the languages.

It started small. Just a few words slipped through the cracks, ones he couldn’t quite catch in English even though they floated vividly in Russian, Romanian, or even German. At first, it was no big deal. Y/N was used to his occasional mutterings in foreign tongues when he couldn’t quite put his thoughts into English. But now? It was different. He’d been waking up thinking in one language, holding a conversation in another, and ending his sentences in a third. The confusion? Bucky’s teammates—and poor Sam—were the first casualties.

Sam squinted at Bucky, who was pacing the room, waving his hand wildly as he gestured at the television.

“Ты не понимаешь, да?!” Bucky exclaimed in Russian, throwing his hands in the air.

“What. The. Hell.” Sam deadpanned, looking toward Y/N as if she were his last lifeline. “Seriously, why does he keep yelling at me in Russian?”

Y/N stifled a laugh, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “He’s saying you’ve got the remote in your hand, and the volume is too loud.”

Sam glanced down at the remote, blinking as realization dawned. He turned the volume down, but that didn’t stop him from pointing a finger at Bucky. “Man, if you’re gonna yell at me, at least do it in a language I understand!”

Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face. “I said that, didn’t I?”

“No, Buck,” Y/N replied with a smile tugging at her lips. “You said it in Russian. Twice.”

Bucky froze mid-gesture, his brows furrowing in confusion. He opened his mouth to argue, only to shut it again, his eyes darting toward the ceiling as if replaying the conversation in his head. A moment later, realization dawned, and his shoulders slumped.

“Seriously?” he muttered, scrubbing his flesh hand down his face.

“Seriously,” Y/N confirmed, biting her lip to keep her amusement in check.

“I thought I—” he began, then groaned, cutting himself off. “Great. Now I’m yelling at people in the wrong language. Next thing you know, I’ll be ordering coffee in German and getting blank stares from the barista.”

Y/N tried and failed to stifle her laughter, the sound bubbling out of her as Bucky shot her a half-hearted glare. Even Sam, ever the instigator, couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You know, Barnes,” Sam said, leaning back with his arms crossed, “it’s bad enough you’re already hard to understand half the time with your whole grumpy-man shtick. Now you’re throwing in Russian? Man, no one’s gonna bother arguing with you anymore—they won’t even know how.”

“Thanks, Wilson,” Bucky deadpanned. “Really helpful.”

Sam shrugged, grinning. “Anytime.”

Y/N shook her head, stepping closer to Bucky as she placed a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly, her tone cutting through his frustration. “It’s not a big deal. You’re juggling more languages in that head of yours than most people could even dream of.”

Bucky huffed, his metal fingers flexing absently. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like my brain’s broken.”

“It’s not broken,” she assured him, her voice firm but warm. “It’s just...overloaded. Like trying to open twenty browser tabs at once. You just need a minute to figure out which one’s playing the music.”

Her analogy earned her a faint, lopsided smile. “You always know how to make me feel better, Doll.”

“Someone has to,” she teased gently.

Sam, watching the exchange, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, cue the rom-com moment. Can we get back to the part where Barnes was yelling at me in Russian, though? I feel like I deserve an apology in English for that.”

Bucky’s smirk returned in full force as he glanced at Sam. “Apology? I think I said it perfectly the first time, Wilson.”

This time, it was Y/N who groaned. “Here we go again.”

🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺

Later that evening, Bucky was sulking. Y/N watched him as he slumped into the couch, his metal hand twitching against the fabric as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

“You okay?” she asked gently, settling beside him.

“I’m losing my mind,” he muttered, switching back to English. His Brooklyn accent was thicker when he was tired, which only made Y/N’s heart squeeze. “I used to be fluent in English. Now I can’t even remember how to say…ugh…what’s the word for when someone’s being difficult on purpose?”

“Stubborn?” she offered.

“Yes! Stubborn!” He sat up, glaring at his own hands as if they’d betrayed him. “I tried to tell Sam that earlier, and I said it in Romanian instead.”

Y/N chuckled, her fingers brushing against his metal arm in a soothing motion. “It’s not a big deal, Buck. You know so many languages—it’s bound to happen sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s annoying. And embarrassing.”

“Not to me,” she murmured, her voice soft. “I think it’s cute.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her in mock suspicion. “Cute?”

She shrugged. “Cute.”

The next morning, Y/N walked into the kitchen to find Bucky hunched over the table with a stack of index cards, a Sharpie, and a determined expression. He was muttering to himself in what sounded like Polish as he scribbled words in different languages on each card.

“Are you…making flashcards?” she asked, stifling a laugh.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbled, holding up a card. “If I write them down, maybe my brain will keep them where they belong.”

Y/N bit her lip to suppress her smile. “Baby, your brain isn’t a filing cabinet.”

“Yeah, well, it’s acting like a busted one right now,” he retorted, flipping through his growing pile. “You know how frustrating it is when you’re trying to say something and your brain’s like, ‘Nope, here’s the German version instead?’”

She slid into the seat beside him, resting her chin in her hand. “Maybe your brain’s just reminding you that you’re more than just an American soldier. You’re a man who’s lived through so much, in so many places, and somehow you’ve carried all that with you.”

Bucky paused, his blue eyes softening as he looked at her. “You’re too good to me, Doll.”

“You’re just lucky I took Russian in college,” she teased, nudging him playfully.

🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴🇷🇴

The multilingual confusion came to a head during a mission briefing.

“Barnes, are you ready?” Sam asked, looking expectantly at his friend.

Bucky nodded, and he blurted out, “Да.”

“...What?” he blinked.

“I mean, ja! No—uh, yes!” Bucky groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sam burst out laughing, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Man, he’s broken.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky snapped, glaring at him.

Sam only laughed harder. “Dude, you just said yes in three different languages in under five seconds. Are we sure you’re not a Hydra sleeper again?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his hand twitching toward the knife strapped to his thigh.

“Bucky,” Y/N said gently, placing a hand on his arm. Her tone was soothing, pulling his focus back to her. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous he can barely speak one language.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing under her touch. “Yeah, well, it’s still embarrassing.”

“It’s endearing,” she corrected.

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When the day crawled in and night came, as they lay tangled together on the couch, Bucky buried his face in Y/N’s hair. “You really don’t think it’s annoying?” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

“Not at all,” she replied, turning her head to kiss his cheek. “I think it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you figure?”

“You’re not just James Barnes from Brooklyn anymore. You’re Bucky Barnes, a man who’s lived a hundred lives in a hundred languages. And you’re mine,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s what matters.”

He pulled back to look at her, a rare smile curving his lips. “I’m yours, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a grin.

“Then I guess I can deal with forgetting a few English words every now and then,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

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The next morning, Bucky walked into the kitchen to find Sam waiting for him with a smirk and a stack of flashcards.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Your new study guide,” Sam said, flipping through the cards. “I took the liberty of adding a few important phrases. Like, ‘Wilson is the coolest.’”

Bucky groaned, snatching the cards and tossing them onto the counter. “You’re the worst.”

Y/N walked in just in time to hear Sam reply, “No, I’m the coolest—remember?”

Bucky turned to her with a pleading look. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You’ll live, Sergeant Barnes. You’ll live.”

——————————————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this, it was so much fun to create! I love acknowledging Bucky’s past without it having to be upsetting, thanks, Hun. 🫶

Requests Open!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Villain’s Protector (Part 3) - Closer

Summary: The reader's in a bad spot when she's cornered by three infected intruders. But when the danger passes, she and Ben need to decide if they really can live together or if they'd be better off on their own...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, violence, life-threatening situations, death (minor characters), mentions of past torture

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving this week! Please enjoy Ben being an asshole/also his hilarious attempts at making up for it...

________

“Oh my god!” Both men spun their heads towards the back door, giving you a chance to make a break for it. You had to deal with the woman but at least you had a chance against her. In three large steps you were in front of her, ducking down to miss her punch. You kicked her knee, the woman shrieking and falling, giving you a chance to kick her back and shove her into your bedroom. You dove into the one across the hall, slamming the door shut behind you. Ben’s suit was draped over the back of a chair, his gun still in it’s holster.

Fuck it. 

You abandoned barricading the door, barely getting across the room before it flew open, all three of them standing there. The gun was in your hand within a second, finger squeezing the trigger blindly. You hit one of them, the other two shouting behind him. You jumped to the right to avoid the woman, getting a few more rounds off. She went down when a blur slammed into you. You crashed back against a window, falling through it and straight onto the back deck. Something sharp was in your back and your hand was empty, eyes blearily opening as the red streaked man stood over you with the shears.

“You could have been one of us, bitch.” He opened the blades and drove them downwards, straight for your torso. 

With a swift breeze, he was gone. You blinked rapidly, Soldier Boy standing over you, staring off to the side of the yard. Every muscle ached but you managed to look, spotting the man impaled on the shears about two hundred feet away in the grass. Strong hands turned your head, Ben’s face almost…worried? 

You blinked, reaching up to grab his wrist, his eyes wide.

“You have glass all over. You need-”

“Are you wearing fucking oven mitts?” You smiled, Ben staring at where your hand rested on the pink things. “Pink oven mitts?”

“Shut your mouth,” he said, pouting when you sat upright with a groan. He ripped them off, kneeling beside you with a grimace. “Uh. How true is that whole can’t die thing?”

“That’s actually really smart,” you said, nodding to the mitts. “If they can’t touch your skin, maybe we can keep you safer. Keep us both-”

“Y/N!” He grabbed your shoulders, eye twitching. “Do not lose it on me. Will you die if I rip that giant shard of glass sticking out of your back out?”

You shook your head, already pulling pieces out of your legs and arms. He sighed, gripping the glass and pulling it out fast, your heart skipping a beat.

“Warn a girl,” you grit out, hands reaching for anything to grip onto through the pain which meant his shirt before you. 

“You’re bleeding a lot,” he said. Shaking, you buried your face in his neck, breathing hard. “Y/N-”

“Take the rest out.” He tore your ruined shirt and jacket off, cool air hitting your back. He didn’t speak as he pulled out the other large shards you felt there but he flinched when you jerked into him and yelped. 

Finally, you felt they were all gone, your head throbbing angrily but you knew it’d dissipate soon.

“I totally had that guy by the way,” you mumbled. Ben’s chest rumbled beneath you, his warm body lulling you into a calmness. “Was that a laugh, Benjamin?”

“You are something else.” With some effort, you leaned back, Ben grasping your chin and turning your face. “Shit, your cuts are healed already.”

“I’m just that special,” you said, trying to stand but falling straight against him when a sharp bolt of hot fire ran across your back.

“You heal fast but the pain-”

“Takes longer. I’ll be better in an hour.” You didn’t move from where he cradled your body against his, Ben’s body strangely relaxed. “Bet you’re happy. You got my shirt off.”

“You do have great tits,” he mumbled, tucking your head under his chin. You raised your eyebrows, gaze focused out on the lake. 

“Ben, there could be more people nearby. We should probably move somewhere-”

“In the eighties I hired a young couple to take care of this place. They had a baby at the time I think. Landscape. Cleaning. That’s why that woman and those men were here. I let them live here in exchange for upkeep and I forgot they were here. This was my fuck up.”

“It was an accident, Ben. I don’t blame you. I’m fine.”

“You don’t realize you screamed when I took those glass pieces out, do you? The only reason you were in there alone was because I pissed you off again. I fucking forgot. I bring out your fucking shell shock, I screw up and you’re shaking in pain because of it. That’s not what a man does.” You sighed, taking a deep breath.

“Soldier Boy, you are ridiculous.” You moved your head so you could face him, Ben’s jaw clenched. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, offering a smile. “I’ve known evil men. Shitty, evil men. But you? You put on pink oven mitts which I’m confident you’ve never worn anything that shade in your life for fear it would shrivel your dick up. Yet, you did it for me. Here you are, apologizing in your own, albeit half-assed, way and look at that. Your dick is still just as big as it was an hour ago.”

He pouted, turning to look at the waters of the lake, ignoring your attempts at getting him to acknowledge his idea of what a man was wasn’t the only one . “Why did you break me out of that CIA black site? The truth this time.”

You closed your eyes, turning your head back under his chin when sharp, stabbing pains started up in your abdomen again. You tried to bite back the whimpers that caught in your throat but a few slipped through, Ben squeezing you tighter, anchoring you.

“Because there’s nothing worse than being trapped, unable to die, only to spend every waking moment in pain. All you want it someone to rescue you. So that’s what I did,” you said quietly.

He hummed, shifting his arms around you, holding your body against his.

“Do you still think I only want to use you, Ben?” He was quiet, slow steady beats of his heart thrumming underneath you for a moment.

“I could be evil. People thought that about me once upon a time. It’s how I ended up in Russia.” You shrugged, Soldier Boy shifting beneath you, soon carrying you back inside bridal style. You poked open an eye, Ben watching you closely. “I was trapped for a reason. Give it five minutes and you’ll hate my guts again.”

“Why would I hate the boy that wears pink oven mitts for me?” you teased. He rolled his eyes so hard you swore they were going to pop out the back of his head. You let your eyelid fall shut, head lolling back until he adjusted you. “If you end up screwing me over, then fine, you’re a monster. But until otherwise, will Mr. Evil please get me into a bath tub?”

“Your generation is fucking insufferable,” he grumbled, walking across the deck, in through the back door.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, Satan.”

“What did I say about shutting that fucking mouth?” 

“Ben.” You opened your eyes when a door creaked, Ben setting you down in a large claw foot tub a moment later. You tilted your head, his face a mixture of annoyance and wanting to get out of the room as fast as possible. 

“What?” he growled, turning the water on warm and slow for you, setting some towels down next to the tub. 

“Just wanted to say we had a whole conversation where we didn’t fight. I think you’re in serious danger of losing your asshole status if you keep this up.” He gave you his bitch face and dropped a bar of soap in your hands. “Admit it. You like this, being yourself again.”

“You are weak and pathetic and like all women, you need a man to save you and then complain about us in the same breath. I ain’t a fucking pussy so don’t get fucking comfortable with me thinking I’m like your fucking girlfriend. I give the orders, not you.” He stood up and slammed the door on his way out.

So much for that progress.

You and Ben kept your distance after that. You spent most of the day cleaning the blood off the walls and floor while Ben disposed of the three bodies in the nearby woods. It was dark by the time he returned, the house smelling of disinfectant.

He threw his boots on the ground and gave you a glare as you ate a bowl of beans at the dining room table. He stormed around the kitchen, narrowing his eyes at the pot on the stove and the empty bowl on the counter beside it.

“Beans? I’ve had fucking paste shoved down my gob for weeks and you make me fucking beans?” You finished off your dinner, leaning back in your seat with crossed arms. He puffed out his chest, pointing a finger. “Don’t you fucking start, bitch.”

“Does it make you feel like more of a man to yell at me? Maybe you even want to hit me. Fucking go for it. We both know I can take it.” You got up, getting in his face and throwing him off guard so much so he stumbled backwards. “You want me to think you’re a monster? Go ahead. Hurt me. Insult me. Prove me wrong. Show me just how awful you really are deep down and that there’s no shred of a soul left in there.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted, towering over you, his face turning red. 

“Do it!” He growled, grabbing your arms, picking you straight off the ground.

“Look at me!” You were ready to kick him in the nuts when you noticed the red on his face was…bright. Too bright. Infected bright.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll help you alright.” You put your hand to his face, Ben instantly dropping you, both of you falling to the ground. This felt different than before. There was no sharp pain from the redness your hand absorbed from his face. No, it was warmer, a slow burning sensation that built up and up and had you gritting your teeth.

He gasped and choked before rolling away, your body falling back on the hardwoods. You panted, staring at the wood beams crossing the ceiling when Ben crawled over, staring down.

“I got some of their blood on me earlier when I killed that guy. I think it got on my face,” he breathed out. You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “It must act slower that way?”

“Depends. Am I a weak, pathetic bitch?” you said, Ben lowering his head. “Good. See, we’re all good.”

“You didn’t scream this time at least,” he said, helping you sit up against the cabinets. He sat back against the fridge behind him, both of you catching your breath. “Why?”

“The more a particular…injury happens to me, the recovery period from the pain shortens. You didn’t have the streaks in you fully or else you’d be dead so it wasn’t as bad this time.” He shook his head, running a hand through his brown strands. “What?”

“Your powers suck.”

“Not powers,” you sighed, Ben pursing his lips. “I swear. I’ve never taken compound V in my life.”

“Well then you must be a natural born supe. Is Reaper your dad or some shit?” 

“No,” you snapped. Ben held up his hands, giving you just enough of a pout to make you feel bad. He got up and scooped some beans into a bowl, glancing at you once. The floor creaked, your eyes drifting up to watch him settle down across from you, slurping up his dinner. “Why are you eating on the floor?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, woman,” he said with his mouth full and a roll of his eyes. “Can I eat my dinner where the fuck I want to?”

“Of course you can.” He made a face, pointing his spoon at you when you parted your lips. 

“I swear to God if the next words out of your mouth are to argue with me, you will not like the outcome,” he barked. You swallowed down your comment about how the chair and table would be more comfortable. If he wanted to sit his ass on the hard floor, fine, that was on him.

You closed your eyes and tucked your knees up to your chest, lowering your head to rest it against them. 

“You’re a pretty good liar. Most women are but you put them all to shame.” You frowned, lifting your head wearily. He stood, setting his empty bowl on the counter before squatting down right in front of you. Long fingers grasped your chin, turning your head left, then right. “Your jaw is clenched so hard you could snap a tree in half.”

“Fine. It hurts whenever I absorb that red matter stuff from you. There’s nothing either one of us can do about it so why does it matter if you know?” His grip on your chin tightened, just hard enough to make you wonder if he was considering killing you.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that.” Ben’s grip loosened, his thumb wiping away the wetness that’d gathered under your eye.

“Like what?” you whispered, intense green eyes boring straight through to your core. He leaned in closer, his breath hot.

“Like I’m going to hurt you.”

“This was a mistake. Just cover yourself up when you go out and you should be okay,” you said. You got to your feet and barely made it out of the kitchen when his hand landed on your shoulder, freezing you in place. “Forget about Reaper. You’re free Ben. Just live your life how you want to.”

“Why the hell are you trying to get out of here so badly all of a sudden?” 

You closed your eyes, clenching your fist when a wave of burning heat flooded your veins. “Why do you care if I stay?”

“I can drown.” You turned around, furrowing your brow. Ben raised his chin, nodding once. “I nearly did as a kid, out in that lake.”

You both looked out to the dark water, gazes slowly drifting back to one another. He sat down on the edge of the couch arm, running a hand through his hair. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, head shaking as he glanced at a knot of wood in the floor near your feet.

“My father took me out in a rowboat to the middle of the lake when I was a boy. Maybe seven, eight? He threw me over the edge, told me to start swimming.” His eyes met yours, his smile faltering. “It wasn’t until I started to sink did he pluck me out. He was so…disappointed in me the whole way back to the dock. I was convinced he’d throw me out any second. I never told my mother what happened but somehow she knew. It was the only time I ever saw her argue back against him. She ended up showing me how to swim over the next week right where it’s shallow at the shore edge.”

“Why are you telling me this Ben?” you asked quietly. He shrugged.

“You can either be terrified that something more powerful than you will kill you and that fear makes you run from it. Or…you can be a man and face it, tell that thing it’s not more powerful. You learn to respect each other’s power and work together.”

“A lake doesn’t snap your neck in your sleep when it gets mad at you,” you whispered. He sighed, his jaw clenching slightly. “You just…you’re so mean to me that I couldn’t even tell you were infected until you were literally ready to pummel me and I saw the red streaks. Ben, I didn’t know you wouldn’t hurt me. I read the CIA’s file on you and god, you’ve hurt so many people Ben. People you supposedly cared about, loved even. How the hell am I not supposed to be terrified of you? Maybe I was wrong and we should just go our separate ways.”

You headed down the hall, pausing when you heard him walk up behind you.

“If you stay…I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“It’s the end of the world, Ben. Forget about Reaper. What could you possibly give me that’d make me okay with staying with you?” You glanced over your shoulder, Ben’s face strangely soft.

“My word.” He held out his hand, fighting back a frown when you narrowed your eyes at it. “I’m fucking trying here.”

“Not good enough.” You stormed into the bedroom, grabbing a duffel from the ground as he huffed. You started to shove some things inside when he cleared his throat.

“Please stay.” You poked your head out in the hallway, Ben gritting his teeth. 

“Did you say please?” you asked. He rolled his eyes. You stepped back out, crossing your arms. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

“Good-”

“If you drop the Solider Boy shit and act like Ben. Act like the kind of man you wished your father had been to your mother.” His face went white in shock, Ben’s jaw dropping open slightly. “See? That normal guy is still inside of you. You know it’s wrong to be a dickhead. You fucking know it’s wrong and you do it anyway. But you have to stop. You have to be better. Not perfect, just better. Or else I’m gone Ben and this world gets a lot harder for both of us.”

“I…will try if tell me one real thing about yourself, why you don’t die.” He stood his ground, lips pressed into a thin line. You looked away, leaning against the door jam.

“You know how…you know when you did the Compound V trials and all the other participants died except for you?” He nodded once, tilting his head. “That was because your genes are advantageous. Your genes could handle that…evolutionary leap.”

“Like a Punnet square.” You raised your eyebrows. “I’m not a moron.”

“Well, yes, sort of like that. Your gene mixture basically was special. My genes are also…special.” You frowned, Ben’s fingers reaching out to graze your cheek. Your eyes wandered up to meet his, his green eyes curious, guarded. You crossed your arms, looking past him. “My genes, eventually, would have allowed future generations from my bloodline to be natural supes. Millions of years down the line. It’s incredibly rare. Think of it like if your genes and mine were in a race, I’m starting a hundred million miles ahead of yours and we’re racing to the same point.”

“You would get there faster,” he said quietly. You nodded. 

“Reaper found out about my genes. He ended up, activating those special parts of my genes and transfused me with his blood when he did so. He didn’t know what would happen but it gave me the ability to not die, like him. It was all an experiment to him.”

“How’d he do that? Activate them?”

“Through eight years of torture.” Ben stared at you, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “Everything was forced on me, all because of my stupid fucking genes. Do you finally understand why I saved you?”

Ben nodded, letting you slip into your bedroom. You lay back on the old mattress, body in desperate need of sleep and rest. By the time you managed to get out of your jeans and under the covers, the door was cracking open. Ben was carrying something, a mug. Steam billowed from it as he set it down on the nightstand. Then he was leaving, nearly pulling the door shut behind him when he stopped.

“There are things I would say to you if I wouldn’t be a pussy for saying them.”

“Ben?” He looked over his shoulder, catching your smile as you sat up and took a sip of the hot tea. “That’s good enough for tonight. Thank you for the tea.”

He nodded, hesitating once more. “Drink that and then go the fuck to sleep. You look awful.”

“Goodnight to you too.” He grumbled and pulled the door shut, leaving it open a sliver to let in some light from the hall. You heard movement outside and heard a chair scrape along the wood floor. With you mug in hand, you tiptoed over, opening the door.

Ben was sat in a chair right outside your room, frowning when he saw you. “I thought I told you to sleep.”

“What are you doing?” He rolled his eyes.

“Just go to the fuck to sleep. We need to get a game plan together in the morning and you won’t be able to do that if you’re a zombie. Go before I make you.”

You took a sip of tea, offering him a tiny smile. “Try to get some sleep yourself at some point. It was a long day.”

“Y/N…” he warned. You took a big swig of tea and handed him the mug, Ben cautiously taking it.

“I think I’m starting to get you, Ben. You’re an acts of service kind of guy.” He stared at you like you had three heads and shook his own. “I’ll explain someday.”

“Alright, that’s it,” he stood, watching you scurry back to your bedroom. You plopped into bed, Ben pointing a finger at you before sitting back down. You tugged up the covers, putting your back to him as a wave of exhaustion hit you. 

You were just barely holding onto consciousness when something heavy draped over your body in the cool room. 

“She would have liked you,” he mumbled. You burrowed into your sheets, letting sleep overtake you.

That was until four am.

That’s when you woke up to screaming.

___________

A/N: Part 4 coming soon!

[frogchiro]

If you're still up to do some college au! Could we have a part 2 for the krauser one where there's next time/next attempt to make reader his? I've been living for the krauser content especially the college au! It's so unserious and entertaining to read! <3

Ahh thank you dear! I honestly love the college au too! I've never done anything like this before so it's like a breath of fresh air for me ;;

Tbh I see Krauser as being just as relentless in his advances as Leon just less pathetic and whiny; I wouldn't exactly call him a macho man but he definitely considers himself to be a 'real man' (whatever the fuck that means) and real men don't whine for pussy! (at least that's what he kept telling himself lol)

It's not stalking, he swears it's not, but maybe it's a strange coincidence that he knows where you usually hang out alone or with Ashley or even with the rest of your friends. Jack is just very aware of his surroundings and he kind of just gravitates towards you (h/c) head and your sweet giggle whenever he hears it, it just comes natural for him.

This was one of those times where he accidentally spotted you sitting in a cozy little cafe, tucked away from the usual hustle and bustle of the town so it was much less crowded. His huge and bulky figure was hard to miss for obvious reasons, his face bisected by the gnarly scars even more so, but you were quite engrossed in whatever you were doing on your laptop to the point where you completely missed the moment of Krauser ordering his coffee and standing right over you, only noticing him when his large body threw a shadow over you.

He almost grinned when your surprised face morphed into a small, questioning frown, not smiling but not grimacing either which Jack took for a damn good sign and using the opportunity he asked if he could sit with you to which you agreed, your confusion growing. It's not like you will tell him to fuck off outright, it's not like Jack did anything bad to you, it's just that he hangs with the not so pleasant crowd and you still remember his advances towards you and Ashley from a few nights ago.

I feel like he'd try to change his approach to you a bit! He's still a cocky sleaze, don't get me wrong; ego through the damn roof and he still jerks off to the upskirt pics Luis took of you but after he realized that you shoot down those very direct advances immediately he knew it was time for a change of tactics, he didn't want to spook you away.

He remembered how Luis gushed and praised you to high heaven about how you helped with his paper, how it was only thanks to you that he didn't fail the subject and it was what got Jack thinking. You obviously shut down any very direct flirting, but what seemed receptive to helping others...Maybe you will help him? Krauser is very much aware that he's not the smartest, in fact he's pretty sure that the only thing keeping him from failing is his old man's money and influence and his sports scholarship, so for him to ask you to tutor him wouldn't be that out of the blue...

[insert-something-funy-here]

PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT

This is part 2!! Part three is in the works!!

Part 1 || Part 3

I hope yall know it makes me so happy to know people are interested in this HEHEHEGRHEJHEGEHRGR,,,,

Anyway, enjoy!!!

What a wholesome moment.

A ship kept safe by its anchor, the ocean nourished by the sand it wears at. But there’s a storm rolling in, one that will force its light upon this resonant scene. 

Steps echo in the alley, a slow clap accompanied by thunderous laughter. 

“Wonderful job my beautiful creation! I expected nothing less of you!” Shocked expressions made they way to Medkit’s and Biograft’s faces upon hearing Subspace’s voice. 

Anxiety greets them both in Subspace's presence, for one it's an old friend, and the other, it's something entirely new. "What? Did you really think I didn't know know this would happen?" He sighs, good thing this experiment has served it's purpose. "You've changed from how I designed you, and look at how you've been dulled."

"I knew Meddy would never let me close to him outside of a phight, but then you presented me a new experiment to run! As tough as he may act, I know he feels some guilt. Enough to see you at least." Even with his mask and eyepatch, it was easy to see Subspace’s smile. Finally, after spending so long trying find Medkit, he would get his chance at vengence. "Come now my dear creation, help me finish this, and we'll-"

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?" Some defiance was to be expected with this. Allowing this variable to grow within him. But he's being led astray, and I have a parently duty to pull him back. "I was fine with a little disobedience, it served a purpose, but it seems you've strayed too far from my brilliance." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a remote. He sighs, "It's alright though, because unlike that man there, I can fix you!"

That remote. One of the emergency shut downs for Biografts. This one specifically was made for gen## Zeta Biografts. In Subspaces mind, Blackrock could handle the hit in security for a bit. Anyone who's worth something has a personal Biograft not connected to any of the servers one of those remotes would shut down anyway. And with one press, Biograft fell apart, "Well, isn't this familiar?" His laughter brought back memories, and it was sickening. Medkit felt himself back in that SFoTH forsaken lab, back against the wall, a deer in the headlights.

Though Biograft had fallen apart, there was a few seconds before his software finished shutting down. In these precious moments he saw a version of himself standing before him.

"Leave."

"If I do that we'll be back where we started."

"We're not the same anymore. You've changed your directive. Follow it before he makes you like us again."

A slight pause. "You're not yourself either."

"I'm surprised your body is still holding up." A desperate attempt at keeping composure.

"You didn't do that much to me!!" Evidence of how he's failing. "Him on the other hand," He looks at the fallen Biograft and back up Medkit. He steps forward, using mist walk, he clears the distance before Medkit could react. Biograft was supposed to be here to help, but perhaps Medkit watching his last chance at some sort of temporary catharsis die will put him at enough of a disadvantage.

Grabbing him by his tie Subspace shoves him into the wall, "Brings back memories doesn't it? Don't worry, you won't have to remember for much longer!" His other hand hovering dangerously close to Medkit’s last eye. Subspace's freezes for a moment, feeling Medkit’s revolver against his chest, and begins laughing. "What do you think you're going to accomplish with that, hmm? You use that to heal people remember? It's the only reason you keep it after all-"

"What do you know?" His grip tightened, "These bullets can end lives as quick just as they can save them."

"Oh please," Subspace moves his freehand to grip Medkit’s gun, "If you had the strength for that," he pulls it closer, "you would've shot me already."

In flash of teal light, Subspace is on the ground and Medkit has been freed. A familiar alarm blares in both their ears. Subspace sits back up and stares in shock, but before he can call out to the newly reformed Biograft, he's already left with Medkit.

"My creation... my once beautiful invention... my son..." it doesn't take long for this Biograft’s absence to eat away at him.

Biograft runs as far as he can, Medkit in his arms. He makes wide jumps across rooftops, no real direction other than away. Away from Subspace, away from his 'siblings', away from Blackrock. He's overheating, he's going to collapse again.

"Go left here."

Which meant they needed somewhere safe to go, and to follow the quickest directions there. Medkit knew somewhere they could stop, the two of them just had to hope Biograft could make it that far.

[hannahssimblr]

We surface eventually, and clamber down the back stairs and out into sharp morning light, squinting against the sun. I feel like a vampire. My friends’ faces are gaunt and drawn, eyes still black. They look like they’ve been dead for a week. 

Except Jen, sober Jen, who smiles sleepily and stretches her arms, breath condensing in the cold air. “God, that was mad,” she says. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” I say. Being out in the daylight like this is always weird, with families walking around, people going to work, while we are like creatures who have dug our way out of the earth, lurching toward home amongst the living. My mouth is so dry, and my jaw hurts. I foresee an afternoon spent throwing up, head in the toilet bowl, groaning as Jonas hammers on the door, appealing to my sense of humanity by reminding me there’s only one bathroom in the apartment.   

“Oh, well, I should probably pack my bags and stuff.” Jen says.

I rub my eyes. “Oh, your flight.”

“Oh, Jen,” Dalia says with a big sad face, “I wish you could stay,” they hug, and rock each other side to side. “Please, come back and visit. This was so fun.”

“I swear!” Jen says. “I love you guys. Come see me in Dublin!”

“Don’t make them go there,” I say, to which she laughs. “Actually, yeah. Never mind. I’ll come back here! And for longer!”

“Please!” Elias and Dalia cry in unison, and then we leave, trudging toward the train station. 

She snoozes on my shoulder on the U-Bahn, while Jonas and I, wired, wide awake, stare at our reflections in the window all the way back to Kreutzberg. 

I lie on my bed, eyes on the cracks on the ceiling, while Jen shoves things into her suitcase. She’s cleaned off all her makeup, leaving black smudged wiped crumpled on the surrounding floor. 

“This was so fun,” she’s saying. “I had such a good time. I mean, last night was amazing. Did you see I kissed that girl with the fan?”

“The fan?”

“Yeah, she was carrying this weird, lacy fan. Anyway, she was dead pretty. I wish I’d gotten her number.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I tried, but she didn’t speak English. There was no point.”

“So you didn’t speak before you starting kissing her.”

“No, we didn’t need to. I just met her eyes across the dancefloor and we both knew.”

“Ah, nice.”

The mattress shifts under her weight, and her face slides into my vision, pink cheeked, with eyeliner still smudged in the spaces between her lashes. “You’re coming down.”

“Yep.”

“Poor Judie. Rough day ahead.”

“Honestly, it’ll probably be a few days. A week, even.”

“Oof. Do you do this a lot?”

“Too much, probably.”

“Oh well,” she plonks back down to the rug and continues shoving things into her case. “At least I know you’re having fun over here. I’d be worried you’re suffering.”

“Do you worry about that?”

“Kind of.”

I laugh gently. “No, Jenny. I’m not suffering. Things are good.”

She struggles with the zip, and it rasps lowly against the bulk. “I was worried I wouldn’t like your friends, you know. I’m glad I met them, because they’re amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wish they were my friends. Jonas is adorable. Elias too, so fun, and Dalia is probably the coolest girl I ever met in my life. I never got to ask her what part of America she comes from.”

“Pittsburgh.”

“I dunno where that is.”

“Nowhere close to where I grew up.”

“You sound different when you talk to her.”

Turning my head is an effort, and the room lurches a little. Later, I’ll probably be so dizzy that standing up feels like getting off the waltzers. “How so?”

“Your accent gets more American. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Well, it does. I suppose when you’re talking to someone from the states you kind of copy what they’re doing, or something. It’s just funny, because you weren’t like that at home.”

“With dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s not like I really talk to him, is it?”

She pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve heard you say ‘okay’ to him a few times.”

“Hm,” I say. “Well, maybe I’ll lose my Irish accent while I’m here.”

“Would you like to?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

I shut my eyes in the hopes it will stave off the wave of dizziness that comes over me. My temples throb gently with the onset of a headache. I half listen as Jen goes on about how great my friends are, Jonas, Elias, Dalia. Perhaps she’s hoping I won’t notice who she has left out, but she is wrong. 

“What did you think of Astrid?” I say, and she pauses, just for a beat, before answering with enormous enthusiasm. 

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You were right. Even better in person than in the pictures.”

“Yeah.” I roll on my side. “She’s incredible looking, I know, but… like, did you like her?”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s so nice.”

I hesitate. Astrid isn’t that nice. At least it’s not a word I would use to describe her ahead of something like intelligent, confident, shrewd. Out of all the traits she has that I admire, I couldn’t say her niceness is something that sticks out. It’s not important to me, and I require it from her. Nice isn’t untrue, exactly, but it's not a real answer.

“Your opinion is really important to me,” I say, and she busies herself in her backpack, double checking for her phone charger and passport. 

“No, I mean it,” she says distractedly. “She seems to care a lot about you, and that’s the main thing, you know what I mean?”

On my elbow now, I look at her, pulling things out of her bag and shoving them back in, and my anxiety rises. I wanted our dinner to go a little better, sure, and they could have hit it off more than they did, but Astrid is Astrid. She’s a tough nut to crack at the first meeting. It takes a while for her to warm up, to get comfortable. She takes some getting used to. 

“I know things were a bit awkward there, when we were talking about school, and she didn’t have anything to say and all that.”

She waves this off. ‘No, it’s fine. She didn’t have to say anything. I was more worried about whether we were annoying her by talking about it so much.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s alright, like, she doesn’t need to have the same humour as me.”

I frown. “Well, you and I have the same humour. In fact, we’re so alike that I thought you’d get along with her.”

“We got along.”

“But you weren’t bowled over.”

She sighs, “Jude, don’t make me talk myself into an awkward position.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m just wondering what you thought.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re not accepting my answer.”

“You haven’t answered.”

“I have. I said she’s nice.”

“Yeah, but like, ‘nice’ is a non-answer.”

“She’s not what I expected, right? But there’s nothing wrong with that. I just always thought you’d prefer to go out with a girl that laughed at the same things as you, or was silly and goofy, or, I don’t know, less… severe. I’ll meet Astrid again, and I’m sure I’ll be bowled over. We just didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other. It was only a few hours, and, I dunno, Jonas was there too, and I was talking to him, mostly.”

“I–” I decide to ignore the first part about the girls I supposedly like. “Well, I hope so. I’d be pretty sad if my girlfriend and my best friend didn’t get along.”

“Everyone is friendly here.”

“Right.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

I sigh reluctantly, and fall back onto the bed. My headache makes my brain slosh against the inside of my skull. “Jenny, I do. I believe you,” I say. “And I’m glad you like her. It’d be really fucking shit for me if you didn’t.”

“Well, I do.”

“I’m glad.”

“Good.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[ricochetyears]

“I just wanted a piece of you, James!” Regulus snaps abruptly, “Merely a piece, something to keep. Because I knew we wouldn’t see each other after the Ceremony,” the corners of his mouth turn downward, as if he’s desperately trying to hold his emotions in check, but it’s not working. James sees it. James knows, “But who could’ve predicted you’d be such a fucking idiot and follow Sirius into Dauntless?”

James opens his mouth to respond, but Regulus barrels forward, yanking his arm free from James’ grip and shoving him in the shoulder. James frowns, but Regulus shoves him again. And James lets him, because even if Regulus wanted to bash his skull in with a brick, he would let him do that too.

“Always following him, ain’t you? Wherever he goes. Always for him and never for me,” Regulus says disappointedly, “You’ve got some sick obsession with my brother, James. Maybe get that sorted out. Therapy might do you some good.”

James recoils as if struck, “Maybe if you’d bothered to look at me, at least once, any time in the past six years—”

“Oh, I’ve heard this before,” Regulus interjects, his tone biting.

“Then I’ll say it again,” James insists, stepping closer, his soaked sweater clinging to his chest as the rain beats down around them, “Maybe if you’d taken a second to actually see me, you’d understand. You’d know I followed Sirius, yeah. But I also followed you.”

Regulus hesitates, his mouth snapping shut as he takes one step back. His glare hardens, shoulders tensing, but his eyes flicker with something too close to vulnerability.

“Don’t do me any favours,” he spits, but the venom in his voice is softer now, less convincing, “Shove your charity, Potter, right up your—”

“I’ll shove it wherever I damn well please,” James snaps, leaning in, “You don’t get to decide that. I followed you, Regulus. The second your blood hit the coals,” he swallows hard, his anger giving way to desperation, “I knew. ”

Regulus blinks, his lips parting slightly. His defiance flickers like a dying flame, and he looks… lost. His eyes dart across James’ face, searching for something—probably an explanation, or a lie, or a way out—but James just stands there, staring back at him with unwavering intensity.

art cc: mikey.shs

[major-comet]

i think it would be so much easier to buy into the theory that south actually Didn’t leave north for dead and delta just lied about it if she hadn’t tried to do it to wash, too. if the only two she supposedly tried to leave for dead were north offscreen, and delta? yeah okay, i can see it. but i think the progression of north-wash-delta is actually Crucial to it all. because you’ve got:

a) the brother that the director and price alienated her from. they intentionally drove a wedge between the two of them by obviously favoring him over her - it was the whole point of having both of them in the project. he had a consistent spot on the leaderboard, and he got a shiny new AI. he got what she wanted.

b) her squadmate that rose up from the lower ranks after her, who was generally regarded by the rest of their squad as a worse soldier than her. who still managed to maintain a strong position on the leaderboard even when she couldn’t. her squadmate who got an AI, but his implantation went poorly enough that they shut down the program before giving her one (which, side note; i don’t think she was ever actually going to get one. they would have found another reason to not give her an AI - perhaps even citing that leaderboard performance). he got what she wanted, and - in her mind, at least in part - prevented her from getting it.

and c) what she always wanted.

after so long, what was initially just jealousy and envy towards her brother and their other teammates twisted and corrupted into bitterness and resentment. and after she finally gets what she’s wanted for so long - an AI of her own - she’s willing to throw him away if it means saving herself from the meta.

south’s arc from 9-6 is one of the best representations of just how well freelancer was able to sow resentment among its agents, and i think that the north of it all is kind of the crux of it for her. and trying to write off that very important part of the end of her arc (i love that the end of her arc is the first we see of her, btw) as just a lie told by delta is a disservice to her and the complexity of her arc, honestly. to me, it’s a huge part of what makes south so interesting.

and that’s not to say that delta wasn’t being manipulative when he told wash about what she did - he absolutely was. he knew exactly the effect those words would have on wash. he was being vindictive and manipulative - but i do think he was being honest. reminding wash of how she tried to leave both of them to the meta would likely have been enough if he pushed it - why risk a lie about north if he didn’t have to? doesn’t seem logical to me.

[monayen]

idk if I requested this already or if I dreamt it? so sorry if you get this twice 💦

can you please sort the ivory household + satoru + the ratmen into categories that are sort of like "knows where the clit is", "knows about it but can’t find it" and "has no idea what it is"? thanx ❤️

➷ Paring - Multi x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - explicit afab reader, oral (f. recieving) / cunnilingus, fingering, slight sadism (from nyen)

a/n - might be too similar to the coochie eating headcannons but i find this funny so i will be doing it anyways. also im going to default using this banner when its group headcannons :0

- Knows where the clit is

Luther

Very knowledgeable! Studies human anatomy in depth to get to better know you. Books and webpages… but he knows that nothing compares to the thrill of hands-on experience

Lay down on a table and spread your legs for him while he sits before you. Luther will settle himself between your thighs, one large hand resting possessively on your lower belly, just above the apex of your sex. His his other hand delicately spreads your folds apart, watching for your sweet reactions as he thumbs your clit

Luther knows how precious and sensitive this part of you is, and he makes sure to handle you with the utmost reverence

Nyon

Is a generous and attentive lover – a through and through giver. So he has plenty of experience being down there

When Nyon kneels before you, his face buried between your parted thighs, he really is in his element

He doesn't like to tear his eyes away but even if his eyes were shut, he’d still be able to find your clit perfectly with a swipe of his tongue and a quiver of your thighs. Is humble, but he does take pride in it :)

Satoru

Obsessed with every little part of you. Any touch that has you squirming and moaning beneath him will forever be etched into his sentience. So discovering how rubbing your sensitive clit makes you writhe and arch so beautifully beneath him... it's practically a dream come true! (get it?)

Likes to think he teases, slowly tracing circles around your bud, building the tension until it's nearly unbearable. But his own desire quickly overwhelms him, and soon he's palm-fucking you with a frenzied intensity that leaves you breathless and clutching at the sheets

- Knows what it is but can't find it

Nyen

Maybe less of “can't find it” but more “doesn't touch it” So mean!

Nyen is well aware of how sensitive your clit is, and being the sadistic creature he is, he takes great pleasure in denying you the satisfaction of having it touched. Even when he does allow himself to make contact, Nyen uses his sharp nails to send jolts of painful pleasure coursing through your body

Knows that denying you the bliss of rubbing your aching clit means that you'll be writhing in agony, pleading for any type of release. Pathetic and perfect, just for him

Sebastian

We know he has little experience. Even seeing a pussy for the first time made him so red that you were worried he was going to pass out

Still at least knows about the clitrous though, he's not clueless – just inexperienced. Does it mean he can find it without some assistance? No. But he’ll nervously spread you open as he rubs along your entrance in an attempt to elicit some type of reaction

Too awkward to ask you what he's doing wrong, so unless you’re kind enough to show him… get ready for a lot of trial and error. Kind of endearing

- No idea what it is

All the Ratman

Obvious. They just know it feels good when they sink their dicks into your hole – really good. Foreplay is a foreign concept to them, their minds just set on the singular desire to rut and breed

Micheal and Robert have more of the mind to listen to you when you talk about your clit. Micheal is incredibly eager to please, burying his face between your thighs as his tongue laps sloppily at your tender bud (with heavy guidance, of course) He just loves how you clasp your thighs around his head!

Robert is the one who notices how your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers when he grazes your clit. He commits this to memory, hand sloppily rubbing against your clit as he thrusts into you. Only then the other ratman feel how you twitch around Robert’s cock do they really learn to pleasure you there

Randal

Should definitely know what the clit is – considering he canonically watches hentai. Not the best reference for sexual knowledge… but if he stopped staring at tits, he might have picked up that rubbing there would feel good for you

In his mind, the sole purpose of the clitoris is to provide a source of amusement, perhaps by flicking it with his tongue or pinching it between his fingers until you squirm and whine

You can try to guide him to touch it properly, but he has no idea how to use the knowledge to bring you any real pleasure. His touches are clumsy and insensitive, and he doesn't take anything seriously enough to not want to immediately put his cock in you. Best you’ll get is some overstimulation, baby!

[snuffysis]

TW/CW; Dad tells daughter she was hot as a kid (if you don't wanna read that then skip like the first 5 sentences in paragraph 14)

The last parts were rushed and a little lazy bc I gave up.

I was in the car with my dad and three brothers, I was the passenger princess, like always, while my brothers were in the backseats and dad was driving. "We're going to be up here for a full week, baby." Dad said and put a hand on my thigh, he always said that it was his way of showing affection. "Yeah, that means no crying like a little bitch." Michael said from the middle seat, he was leaning back and staring up at the roof of the car. "Hey-!" I responded and pouted, causing our dad to glare at him in the rearview mirror. "Leave your sister alone." Dad said in his deep voice, I always found it soothing and used to make him read all my bedtime stories. "Why does she even have to come? This is more of a guy thing." My other brother, Dylan, said, his slight Australian accent slipping out. "Because your mom is on a business trip, I don't feel like paying for a babysitter, and she's only seventeen." Dad responded, causing me to chuckle softly. "I'm eighteen, my birthday was last week, remember?" I teased, my dad always accidentally said I was a year younger than I was for a few weeks after my birthday. "Yeah, dad, we're eighteen." My twin brother, Kyle, spoke in an annoyed tone, he hated when our dad accidentally said we were younger than we just turned. "Right.. I'm sorry kiddos, I just got used to saying you were seventeen." Dad responded and rubbed my thigh. "It's ok, dad!" I said, smiling at him while Kyle just rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face as he looked at me. We sat in silence for a while when I decided to play some music. "Diggy! Diggy! Diggy!" The crowd cheered in the song. "This guy? Seriously?" Michael asked with a disguised tone, he absolutely HATED Diggy Graves because I listened to him constantly. "Think I'm seein' ghosts again, in my home again, all alone again, I rot.. Thoughts in my head, in my head, won't stop.." I mumbled along to the song. "Better off dead, let the gun go pop." Kyle said, giving me a small smile. "Shut up." Michael said, groaning in irritation. "Why you screamin' ladies?" Dylan joined in. "You know Diggy don't die! Even if I wanted to, probably do it with a knife!" The three of us sang, smiling and laughing a bit. "Dad! Tell these brats to shut up!" Michael complained. "They're just having fun, Mike." Dad responded, a small smile on his face as he looked at me. "I've been twisted in the head, ever since I could write. Ever since I learned to walk, I started running from life. I'm tryna haunt my way to fame, call me poltergeist." We sang, watching as Michael got more pissed. The rest of the car ride was us torturing Michael with songs he hated. "We're here." Dad said as he parked the car and got out. "Finally.." I mumbled, getting out and immediately walking into the forest. "Where are you going?" Kyle asked as he followed me. "I have to piss. Stay there." I walked behind a tree and pulled my pants and panties down before popping a squat and pissing on the leaves below. Kyle walked away only to return with toilet paper which he handed me. "You could've at least stayed behind the tree." I said, taking the toilet paper and using a bit to wipe. "Oh please, we're twins, it's like I'm looking at a female version of myself." Kyle responded, crossing his arms and leaning against a tree that was behind him. I rolled my eyes and stood up, fixing clothes before burying the toilet paper I used. Kyle took the roll and led me back to the car. We got our stuff and walked into the clearing in the woods where our dad and brothers were already setting up the big tent. "I'll set ours up." Kyle said and took the tent from me. Typically during camping trips we'd have one tent for two people but since Mom was on a business trip Dylan and Michael agreed to sleep in the big tent with dad while Kyle and I wanted to keep our smaller two person tent. I watched as both tents got set up, Kyle never let me help even though we shared the tent and dad wouldn't let me help with his because he doesn't believe a woman should work… and Dylan and Michael thought I'd mess up or break something.

I snuck off to gather some rocks and sticks for a fire pit, putting them in a grocery store bag that I knew would come in handy. I walked back to the campsite where Kyle immediately spotted me. "Kitty. Come." He demanded and snapped his fingers, pointing at the ground in front of him. "I'm not a dog." I responded, rolling my eyes as I handed him the bag since it was hurting my hand. "You ran off like one." Kyle responded and began setting up the fire pit. "Don't run off like that again." Dylan said, he emerged from the forest as well, he was carrying a bloody rabbit body. I looked at him confused before realizing it was sunset. "I must've lost track of time.. I'm really sorry.." I said, lowering my head. "Just don't do that again.." Michael said, hugging me from behind, his arms around my waist. "I-I won't." I said, gently rubbing Michael's arms, unsure of what else to do. "Good girl.." Michael responded, pressing a kiss to my head. I smiled but Michael let go and cleared his throat while walking away. I pouted a bit, it was a rare occurrence for Michael to show affection and every time he pulled away was sad. My dad ran over and squeezed me before I could react. "Don't run away again!" Dad sorta yelled as he held me. "I was worried something bad would happen to you.. take Kyle next time.." He said and let go, making me look up at him. Before I could say anything he pressed a kiss to my cheek, his lips lingering longer than they should. "Ok, dad.." I smiled and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead. Dad gave me one more squeeze before walking over to Dylan. I smiled and walked over to Kyle who stood up, done with the fire pit. "Need something?" Kyle asked, reaching a hand up to my cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "No, I just wanted to come hug you." I said before wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing close against him so I could hug him super tight. Kyle moved his hands to my waist and gently hugged me, his hands loosely hanging, grazing my ass. "I love you.." Kyle whispered before kissing the side of my head. I smiled and relaxed in his arms, feeling an odd bulge in his pants. "Your hunting knife is pressing against me, y'know.." I said quietly, oblivious to what it actually was. "Oh.. uh.. yeah.. sorry sis.." Kyle said but he only held me tighter. "I love you too, brother." I said which made him press his knife against me harder. "I love you so much, sis.." He managed to get out, moving his hips slightly. "Are you ok?" I asked, confused. "Mhm.. just.. standing uncomfortable.." He responded, hesitantly letting me go.

I gave Kyle a quick cheek kiss before walking away, not noticing the bulge in his pants. I walked over to Michael who was hiding behind a tree, playing with his lighter. "Whatcha doin'?" I asked even though it was obvious. "Are you blind?" Michael responded before pulling me behind the tree and holding me, except I wasn't facing him. "You're a big softie." I teased, getting a small chuckle in response. "At least I'm not pushing you on the ground and pinning you there like I do everyone at school." He teased in response before placing a kiss on my neck. "I love you, big brother." I said, something hard pressed against me again, only this time it was against my ass. "I love you too, lil sis.." He responded, his arms wrapped around my waist and he rocked his hips. "What are you doing..?" I asked, a strange warm feeling in my most intimate part. "I'm just being a good big brother.." He responded, rocking his hips harder, causing me to whimper softly. I stood there, not moving, I didn't know what to do, I didn't even know if this was alright, but he's my big brother so it must be ok, right? "Kids! Come here!" Dad hollered, causing Michael to stop and groan before dragging me with him back to the tents. Kyle and Dylan were already there, dad had blood all over his hands, pants, and shirt along with some rabbit fur. "So, kiddos, I need you to all gather firewood in pairs while I clean up, remember, we'll be out here for a week and it might rain so we need a lot." Dad said, I could've sworn his gaze went to my small tits for a split second. Michael had a devilish grin as he wrapped an arm around me. "I'll take Kitty, she needs someone big and strong to help her, after all.." He said, looking at me, I watched his gaze drift down my body but before I could say anything, dad spoke. "No. She's going with Kyle. You'll most likely leave her in the forest as one of your pranks and then she'll actually get lost." Dad said, his tone stern, leaving no room for Michael to argue.

Kyle and I walked into the woods, I picked up the wood and handed it to him so he could carry it since he was stronger than me. "This is nice.. just you and me.." Kyle said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Mhm! Super fun!" I responded before walking a little ahead and bending down to pick up another piece of firewood, unaware he had the perfect view of my ass in my leggings, because the stretched a little too much he could see a little bit of my pretty pink panties before I stood back up. Kyle paused for a moment before walking over, his cheeks slightly pink. "I think we have enough, it's getting cold and it's almost dark.." He said, I just nodded and carried the piece of wood I was holding back to the tents, looking back at him occasionally. He seemed to be walking a little slower than usual but I assumed it was just because of all the wood. Our dad was cooking the rabbit with the wood I got earlier. "We're back." I said, walking over to dad and putting the piece of wood down and kissing his head. "Hey, princess." Dad responded and looked up, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. I smiled and walked to the entrance of my tent and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap off and taking a sip. "Boo." Dylan's voice sounded behind me, his hands grabbed my waist. "Whatcha doin'?" I asked, turning my head to look at him. "Just checking on my little sister." Dylan replied and leaned in, gently kissing my lips. I kissed back, he's my brother so of course he wouldn't do anything bad to me.

Dylan eventually pulled away and went to help our dad with something while I stepped inside the tent and pulled my shirt off. I pulled my sports bra off, releasing my small tits and tossing the fabric on the ground. I pulled my pants and panties off, setting them with my bra and shirt before slipping a nightgown on and walking out to my dad and brothers, the four of them were illuminated by the fire light. "Already in your nightgown?" Michael asked, looking me up and down. "Yeah, I'm going to bed after I eat." I said, sitting in one of the camping chairs. "Your nightgown is a little short, isn't it?" Dylan pointed out, pointing to the nightgown that only covered down to the middle of my thighs. "Yeah, but I don't feel like changing." I responded, crossing my legs. My dad smiled slightly and handed me a bowl. "Here, hun." He said, smiling at me. "Oh, thanks dad." I responded and took a bite, he'd made rabbit stew, Dylan's favorite, no wonder he ran off to kill one earlier. Kyle was being surprisingly quiet, scrolling on his phone. We talked and ate, Kyle was still being unusually quiet before he got up and went to the tent. I continued chatting with the others as we ate before setting my empty bowl down and walking into the tent as well. I walked over to my sleeping bag and laid down, glancing at Kyle who had his back turned to me. "Goodnight, Kyle." I said, turning over and closing my eyes. "Goodnight, Kitty.." Kyle responded, his voice low, barely above a whisper. I smiled a bit and fell asleep surprisingly fast. I woke up to my face in my pillow, unable to move as something slid in and out of my pussy, my virginity being taken without my consent. I looked at Kyle's sleeping bag from the corner of my eye but I didn't see him, until my assailant intertwined his fingers with mine, I recognized that black nail polish, it was Kyle's hand. My mind raced, what was happening? Why was my own twin brother doing this? My thoughts continued until suddenly his cock was removed, that's when I felt cum leaking from my pussy. I panicked but couldn't speak for some reason. "I'm so sorry.. I love you so much.." Kyle whispered and got up, moving over to his sleeping bag.

I must've passed out because the next thing I knew I woke up to the birds chirping the next morning. "You must've had loads of fun.." Michael's voice came from behind me, his fingers running through my slick folds. "N-no.. I-I didn't.." I tried to explain what had happened but Michael just chuckled and fingered Kyle's cum back inside of me. "Don't act innocent now, sis." Michael said as I moaned and whimpered. "Dad..!" I tried to call out, my voice hoarse. "Dad took Kyle and Dylan out fishing." Michael said, curling his fingers inside of me. "Mmph.." I groaned and tried to push his hand away but it was no use. "Stop fighting it." Michael said and withdrew his fingers before forcing his cock in my pussy, it stretched me more than Kyle's. "No.." I murmured as he began pounding my cunt, causing me to moan and whine. "Fuck.. you're my cock so good.." Michael groaned, the sound of skin hitting skin filled the tent along with my moans and pleas for him to stop. "You were made to be a cocksleeve.. my cocksleeve.." Michael growled in my ear, his hands grabbed my hips and lifted my lower half. I moaned louder, the movement he made making his cock hit a little deeper. "You're so pretty, moaning while I rape you." Michael said, his hips stuttering as he came, a gutteral groan escaping his lips. "Fuck.." He panted, his cock buried inside of my pussy. "You're such a little whore, kiddo.." He said, pressing kisses on my neck. I cried, my world practically shattered, my oldest brother and twin brother both raped me in less than twenty-four hours. Both of them came in my cunt, there was no way I wouldn't get pregnant. Michael kept saying things to degrade and praise me, each one made me feel worse about letting them rape me. Michael eventually pulled out, fixed his clothes, and left. I got up and used my dirty clothes to try and clean up the cum but it was too deep inside for me to completely clean. I took my nightgown off and slipped on sweatpants and a sweatshirt on over some underwear and one of my bras.

I sat by the fire pit and stared at the ashes in it, zoned out as my mind replayed what happened with Kyle and Michael. I zoned out a little too long since I suddenly felt some grabbing my shoulders, massaging them. "You ok?" Dylan asked as snapped back into reality. "Mhm.." I responded, lying to him, how would he believe me that both of our brothers raped me in this trip? "Wanna go for a walk?" Dylan asked, pressing a kiss to the back of my head. I nodded eagerly, wanting to get far away from Kyle and Michael at least temporarily. Dylan grabbed my hand and we walked into the forest, I could feel Kyle and Michael's cum coating my panties as it continued to leak out of me. We talked and he even made me laugh and smile as we walked, we talked about how amazing our mom is, how pretty she is, even joked about her not being a traditional wife since she worked too much, couldn't cook, she was always too busy to clean, etc. We walked for a while before Dylan pushed me against a tree and pulled my sweatpants and underwear down. "What are you doing!?" I asked, trying to push myself off of the bark as he unzipped his jeans. "Shh.. it's ok.." Dylan said as he pushed the tip of his dick into my ass, no lubricant or anything. "N-no-!" I shouted but he didn't thrust, instead there was a warm stream of liquid filling me. "Shh.. it's ok, Kitty.. you're ok.." Dylan whispered in my ear as he pulled out before putting a plug in me, holding his piss. "All better, little sis. It wasn't that bad." He said, leaning over and kissing my cheek. I was shocked and confused, I expected him to rape me, not piss in me. Dylan seemed to notice the cum dripping into my underwear and ran his cock through my cum-slick folds, making me feel as it got hard. "Slight change in plans, your big brother's gonna help make sure you don't use your fingers again." Dylan said, he somehow thought the cum was all mine, all from me masturbating. "It's not-" I was cut off by a small gasp escaping my lips as the plug was pulled out only for it to be replaced by his cock, slick with our brothers cum. Dylan stretched me out so much I thought I might tear like a woman giving birth. I moaned and cried out as he brutally raped me, begging him to stop before I felt myself clenching around his cock, my cunt getting wet, I was… enjoying this. My mind went blank as I focused on the feeling, it felt so good despite hurting so bad, my clit ached with the need to be touched. "Good fucking girl.." Dylan cooed in my ear as he reached in front of me and rubbed my clit, it felt so good, I didn't want him to stop. I pushed back against him, my cries stopped, replaced by whore-ish moaned and encouragement. "Oh fuck.. like that.. please.." I moaned out, my hands moving up to grope my small tits through my sweatshirt and bra. My mind was full of nothing but the intense pleasure my brother provided. "Fuck.. mom and dad neglected my needs for far too long.. now that I have you, I'm not letting go.." Dylan spoke as his hips stuttered. I felt myself cum, squirting onto the ground as Dylan's cum mixed with his piss from moments ago.

Dylan plugged me up and we went back to the tents, I had a slight limp so we agreed to say that I'd twisted my ankle if anyone asked. Michael and dad were cutting something bloody up while Kyle was playing on his phone. Dylan and I snuck a quick kiss before walking over to the fire pit and sitting down. The mix of cum and piss being plugged didn't feel too nice but I just shrugged it off. "Welcome back, princess." Dad said, giving me a small smile that actually made my heart skip a beat for some reason. I smiled back and yawned softly, between the walk, Michael, and Dylan I was pretty tired. "Tired already?" Dad questioned, setting his knife down. "Just a little.. Dylan and I went on a pretty long walk." I responded, Dylan nodded in agreement as he yawned, although he also went fishing earlier. "Go take a nap, you could even lay in my sleeping bag if you'd like." Dad suggested, it was obvious he was talking to me, not Dylan. "Oh, ok, thanks dad." I responded, smiling. "I have to go to the bathroom first." I said and got up, walking to dads tent and grabbing the toilet paper before walking into the trees. I removed my sweatpants and underwear and squatted, taking the plug out of me and pushing my brothers cum and Dylan's piss out. I wiped myself clean as well as the toy and put my clothes back on. I went into dads tent and slipped the toy back in Dylan's bag then laid in my dads sleeping bag and fell asleep.

"Kitty.. hey.. food's done.." Kyle said as he shook me awake. "Dad wanted me to come get you so you could eat.." He smiled a bit and kissed my forehead. "Mmph.. ok.." I said and slowly got up. Kyle led me to the fire pit where dad handed me a bowl of food. I sat beside him and smiled, taking a bite. "I was thinking, your brothers could go out hunting tomorrow and you and I could have a daddy daughter day, how does that sound?" My dad asked, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "That sounds amazing, dad." I smiled and kissed his cheek. "We'll go up to the river, I know you love swimming." He said, kissing my head. "Alright." I responded and continued eating. Dad turned to my brothers and started talking to them, making sure they were prepared for going out without him. "Dad, you taught us all how to hunt when we each turned 8. I'm 25, Dylan's 22, and Kyle's 18. We've got this." Michael said, his tone confident and pretty cocky. "Yeah, we're good with guns and knives." Kyle added, smiling sinisterly, that comment sent chills down my spine as if it was a threat to me. I finished eating and put my bowl down. "I'm gonna go to bed, make sure I'm well rested." I smiled at dad and kissed his cheek again. "Alright, sweetie." Dad responded and hugged me before letting me go to my tent. I changed into shorts and a t-shirt as well as clean underwear before laying down and falling asleep.

The next morning I woke up to birds chirping again and looked around, my vision slightly blurred with sleep. I noticed Kyle on his phone and followed his other arm to see him stroking his cock, his hand moving up and down. "Morning.. I'm gonna change.." I sat up and grabbed some of my clothes before leaving the tent, not letting him give an explanation or anything. I walked into the treeline again and stripped before slipping into my red bikini, the only bathing suit I had brought. I put on a white button-up shirt made out of towel-like fabric and matching shorts before walking back to the tent and putting my t-shirt and shorts with my dirty clothes, that's when I noticed the underwear that had Kyle and Michael's cum missing. I looked over at Kyle who was stroking his cock with them and trying to check me out. I turned around and walked out, disgusted by him. Dad was sitting by the fire pit with some coffee so I walked over and sat on his lap. "I love you, dad." I said, wrapping my arms around his neck as I hugged him. "I love you too, kiddo." He responded, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my cheek. I smiled and rested my head on his chest. "We'll leave in just a minute, love." Dad said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Ok." I happily hugged him, relaxing in his arms.

Dad made sure my brothers were ready before we headed off to the river since it was a decent day anyways. I took my shirt and shorts off and got into the water, looking back at my dad whose eyes seemed like they were on my ass for a brief moment before he pulled his shirt off and stepped in the water as well. I walked further in the water until the cold water was up to my neck. My dad followed but it didn't go as high since he was taller than me. "You look pretty in red, kiddo." Dad said, hugging me from behind, his hands on my tummy. "Thanks, dad, you bought this for me when I was like 16, remember?" I responded, smiling up at him. "Oh.. I remember.." He replied, his grip on me getting tighter, pulling me flush against him. I gently rubbed his arms, enjoying the feeling of his warm embrace. Dad picked me up and set me on a smooth rock. "I want to help you if you'll let me, princess." He said, pushing my thighs open a bit. "But- but dad.." I said, trying to push my legs back together. "Just let me make you feel good, sweetie.." Dad said, pulling the fabric of my bathing suit bottoms to the side and giving my clit a gentle lick. "Mm.. dad.. no.. this is wrong.." I protested but didn't push him away, his tongue just felt so nice. He gently kissed my clit and sucked it softly before moving his tongue down to my entrance, teasing it. "Mm.. d-dad.. dad.. ah.. no.." I protested, squirming slightly. "Mm.. princess.. say 'dada' again.." Dad groaned against my pussy, his tongue pushing inside. "D-dada.." I moaned softly, hips bucking forward. He groaned against me and pumped his tongue in and out of me. "Oh god.. dada.. no.. this is so wrong.." I moaned, my hips grinding against his face as I came on his tongue.

My dad licked up my cum and pulled his swim trunks off. "Dad? What are you doing?" I asked, closing my legs. "You're going to feel every inch of the cock that made you." Dad replied, forcing my thighs open and pulling the fabric of my bathing suit bottoms to the side again "D-dad-! N-no-!" I tried to get away but he forced his cock deep inside of me, setting a rough pace that made me scream and cry. "Dad! No! Stop! This isn't right! Please! Stop! You're hurting me!" I yelled, trying to push him off but I was too weak. "I'm hurting you? Oh please. You've hurt me for years. Not letting me fuck your cunt. Being so fucking innocent. Always announcing your period. You're a fucking tease." Dad said, pounding into me way too hard. I screamed louder, my tears streaming down my cheeks as my pussy bled from his aggressive thrusts. Dad groaned and watched as his cock got bloody as I cried harder. "Fuck.. so good.. keep crying.. you're so tight.." He groaned as he violated me, his own daughter. I gave up on fighting and just laid down, legs spread wide as he fucked me like some hooker. He slapped my tiny breasts with my bikini top on, making them jiggle. "Dada.. oh fuck.. dada.." I moaned, my cries dying down as I enjoyed the feeling of my dad fucking me. "Fuck.. kiddo.. that's it.. clench around the cock that made you.." Dad said as his hips stuttered and he buried his cock in my pussy, ropes of his hot, thick cum filling me.

My dad and I rested, catching our breath and sitting in the water before he sat on the smooth rock he set me on earlier. "I'm sorry, kiddo, I didn't mean—" I cut my dad off, pulling on my dad's swimming trunks. "I-I wanna.. explore.. I've never seen a guy naked and I wanna.. touch.. a-a.. umm.. a-a thing.." I blushed slightly, looking at the rock. "It's called a penis, a dick, or a cock, not a 'thing'." Dad responded, lifting his hips and pulling his swimming trunks down, his cock hardening before my eyes. I gently grabbed it, my fingers wrapped around his cock and I moved my hand up and down. "Mm.. good girl.. just like that, kiddo.." Dad groaned, his head falling back as he fought the urge to help me. "Th-that's good..?" I asked, moving my hand a little faster, more confidently. "So good, princess.. so good.." He assured me, putting a hand on my cheek. I smiled and looked at his cock, stroking a little faster. "Kiddo, could you use your mouth a bit..?" Dad asked, his thumb gently pulling my bottom lip down slightly. I nodded slightly and leaned in, licking the tip as my hand continued to work his shaft. "That's it.. keep going, princess.." He groaned, a hand moving to my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. I slightly stopped moving my hand, moving my tongue down his shaft slightly, causing him to groan again. "Wh-what about these..?" I asked, pulling away and moving my other hand to gently grab his balls. "Oh god.. kiddo.. you're really good at exploring.. just keep touching.." He responded, head falling back again. I leaned in and gently sucked on one of them, causing him to tighten his grip on my hair.

I licked up dad's shaft, a hand massaging his balls as I gently took the tip in my mouth and started sucking. Dad groaned and slightly guided my head up and down, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "God.. kiddo.. you've always been so hot.. all those little dresses and skirts your mom put you in.. those skimpy kids bathing suits.. fuck.. your mom let me bathe you a few times and you were just so hot.. I wish I did this sooner.." He said as he clearly thought about those scenes. I was disgusted and went to pull away when he pushed my head down, his large cock making me gag as he moved my head. "Fuck.." He groaned, using my mouth like a fleshlight while I struggled to breathe. I scratched at his thighs, tried to pull away, everything I could think of but I was too weak. My vision blurred as I blacked out, the only thing I could remember was his cock down my throat before waking up to Dylan raping my ass. I moaned and looked at him, vision still blurred. "Shh! You'll get us caught.." Dylan said and covered my mouth. I moaned against his palm and that's when I realized we were in the forest, the tents just a few yards away. The sun wasn't up very high, it was barely sunrise. "I just had to.. you liked it last time.." He whispered, pounding my ass. I nodded, my moans muffled by his hand. My eyes rolled back as I came, gripping the leaves below me. Dylan groaned and buried himself in me as he came and moved his hand from my mouth. "I love you, little sis." Dylan said, panting. "I love you too.." I replied, smiling at him. "So, you like anal. You're really a whore." Michael's voice came from behind Dylan who quickly pulled out and turned to face our older brother. "Don't worry, I won't tell dad… as long as I get to… have a little fun." Michael smirked at me, I was laying there with Dylan's cum leaking out of my ass, naked and vulnerable. "O-ok.." I said, causing Dylan to look at me. "Ok!? Kitty, seriously!?" Dylan looked shocked that I'd agreed to Michael's words.

Michael stepped closer and rubbed his boot against my cunt, my cum and arousal fluid making a little string connecting to his boot. "Fucking whore.." Michael groaned and pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, his already hard cock springing free. I blushed slightly and made sure my legs were spread as much as possible. "Good girl.." Michael said as he lined himself up and carefully pushed in, letting out a long groan as I whimpered softly. "There you go.. just take his cock, little sis.." Dylan whispered, gently running his fingers through my hair, he was trying to help comfort me despite raping me moments ago. I looked at Michael as I moaned, his hips moving slowly to let me adjust, as if he hadn't raped me before. "Fucking slut.." Michael groaned as he snapped, a hand clamping over my mouth as he thrust into me like my feelings didn't matter. "You're so fucking tight.. damn whore.." He said, I could feel his cock ramming against my cervix. I moaned and screamed against his hand, the sounds muffled by it, my walls clenched around his cock as I enjoyed the feeling of being pounded into. "He doesn't actually think you're a whore.. he loves you.. so much.." Dylan reassured me, his fingers brushing through my tangled hair. I felt myself cum on my big brother's cock, my body trembling slightly. "Oh fuck.. that's it.. mark your territory.." Michael groaned and filled my cunt with his cum. "You did so well.." Dylan said, kissing my cheek as he lifted me into his arms. Michael pulled out and let Dylan hold me. "Kyle's gonna wake up any minute.. I have to get you back to bed.." Dylan said as he began carrying me towards the tents. Michael followed and helped clean me up, wiping my puffy pussy lips with a rag. "Mmph.. what the fuck..?" Kyle's voice sounded beside us, I closed my legs and turned my head, looking into my twins eyes. "Dad! Come here!" Kyle yelled slightly, watching Dylan and Michael quickly try to cover me up as our dad entered. "Wha– Michael. Dylan. What the hell are you doing to your sister?" He asked, looking at the three of us. "We were.." Dylan started but trailed off. "We uhh.." Michael looked down, guilt in his eyes. I opened my legs shyly and hesitantly rubbed my clit, my dad looked shocked but the bulge in his pants was obvious, Kyle was glancing away, trying to get subtle glimpses, Dylan and Michael both looked conflicted, on one hand the two were aroused but on the other hand they didn't want to do anything in front of our dad.

"P-please..?" I said in a soft tone, still rubbing my clit as they watched. The four of them looked around at each other and seemed to realize something and without another word they grabbed me and led me into the larger tent only to push me onto my hands and knees. "At least you were kind enough to say 'please' this time.." Michael said, pushing my head down against the tent floor. Kyle pulled out his knife and stepped closer, gliding the cold blade along my side, slightly cutting into my skin. Dad walked over and stood by my head, looking down at my body while Dylan grabbed my hips and pressed his cock against my ass again. "Watch this.." He said to the others as he pushed in, my little cunt drooling as he thrust into my ass. "I knew she was a pathetic fucking whore!" Michael said, smacking my ass with one of his hands, causing me to yelp. Dad kneeled down and rubbed my back. "That's it.. take your brother's cock in your ass, princess.." Dad said, his touch was gentle and comforting although I didn't need it, Dylan felt so good like this. I moaned and whimpered as Dylan got more aggressive with Michael's encouragement. Kyle began carving their names into my side with his knife, I felt each cut.

I felt rope after rope of thick hot cum fill me up, sometimes in my ass, sometimes in my cunt as they each had their way with me. I was covered in cum, piss, blood, pen ink, cuts, bruises, scratches, and bite marks by the time we were done for the day. Only to be used over and over again until the trip was finally over…