#tonight on the sinister muse . . .

[thesinistermuse]

am i a bit sad that almost nobody regularly wears updos like this anymore? yeah, i'm a bit sat that almost nobody regularly wears updos like this anymore.

[jyoongim]

~Blood & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

chapter two

Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 

Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.

You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 

It was a dream come true.

But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?

Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.

You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.

Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.

He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.

Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 

It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.

And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.

Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 

Doting, providing, and attentive.

But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…

Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?

Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.

You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.

After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.

You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 

You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.

”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”

You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.

With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.

“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.

Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”

You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.

Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.

It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.

But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.

Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 

Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 

“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.

It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.

He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.

You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.

You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.

A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep

”Goodnight” 

”Sleep tight dear”

”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”

”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.

Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.

What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!

Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!

Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!

if i missed anyone my bad!!!!

@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000

[baby-yongbok]

Encore

Boyfriend!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre - Smut with fluffy moments

Word Count: 4,239

A/N: I started this at 11pm and I finished it at 5am. I am EXHAUSTED the horny took over, seeing Hyunjin with this new hair style just ruined me. This imagine is all over the place - at least it is to me - It really is just a smutty cute mess but I love it, I feel like it's sexy and fun and fluid and yes. Even if it actually sucks ya'll are getting all 4k words 😭Please enjoy it, I worked hard and I'd love to hear feedback. Gosh I'm exhausted.

✨Masterlist✨

Summary: After the VMA's you and Hyunjin have a bit of a "conversation" about his new look but what starts out spicy ends up being sweet.

Warnings under the cut

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Choking, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Window sex?, Forced Creampie?, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Spit play? (very subtle, like you have to squint), Cum Tasting, Corruption kink?, Slight Possessive behavior, Marking, Rough Sex, Aftercare.

(Sorry if I missed anything but I'm pretty sure that's it!)

Reader is called: Angel, Slut, Greedy Girl, Princess, Baby, My Muse

Hyunjin is called: My Prince, Baby

"Did you have a good time?" Chan asked as you walked down the hallway of your hotel hand in hand with Hyunjin. The three of you were the last ones to get to your rooms. 

"I had an amazing time, that was so much fun." You smile up at Chan and Hyunjin squeezes your hand a bit, a light chuckle leaving his lips. 

"I'm glad I brought you then." Hyunjin comments before stopping in front of your shared room. Chan was a room across from you two so you all said your goodbyes before retreating into your spaces. 

You kicked your heels off and dropped your purse onto the floor next to the bed before turning to your boyfriend. He was stalking towards you slowly as he stripped himself of his expensive blazer. 

"So what was it that you were saying back at the venue?" He asks, a sinister teasing smirk crossing his face. 

"I was saying…" you meet him halfway walking slowly towards him on your tiptoes so that you can attempt to match his height. "How fucking dare you look this good tonight." 

You reach your hands out and run them down his chest. His arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against him. "How dare you surprise me with this sexy new look."

You run your hands up his arms and shoulders then run them through his hair petting at his undercut. 

"Sexy, huh?" He smiles at you, his eyes staring into yours with pure lustful amusement. 

"So fucking sexy." You whisper back before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a heated kiss. Your lips dance together in a rough yet slow display of passion while you take the time to taste each other. The taste of the wine that the two of you shared after the show to celebrate the boys' win still lingering on your tongues. 

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss as he starts walking you back towards the bed not daring to disconnect your lips. Just when your legs are about to hit the frame you break the kiss and swiftly switch spots with him sitting him down onto the mattress before you. He grins up at you clearly impressed by your sudden dominance. You hike up your black dress a bit, the split on the side giving him an unholy view of your thigh, he bites his lip at the sight and you smile down at him as you climb onto his lap straddling his frame. 

Your hands snake around his neck and start to play in his hair again, twirling his high ponytail a bit. "Wanna know what I thought the moment I saw you all dressed up tonight? " 

The tone of your voice made Hyunjin harder than he already was if that were even possible. He places his hands on your hips slowly trailing down to your ass, his eyes never leave yours. 

"What did you think, angel?" You bite your lip and lace your fingers around his ponytail before yanking back on it just hard enough to pull his head back and expose his sculpted jaw and long neck. A deep groan leaves his lips at the sharp sensation. 

"I thought that you looked so clean, so sharp, so fucking elegant." You lean down into his neck with a smile before planting kisses along his jaw. "I thought that I just had to ruin that, I had to corrupt that. I've wanted to make a mess of you all night."

Hyunjin's breath catches in his throat as you bite into the flesh of his neck and start to suck at it harshly. 

"Angel" He moaned out as his hands gripped at your waist, his fingers digging into your dress and pinching at your flesh. One of his hands trails up your back before lacing into the roots of your hair and pulling your head back away from his neck. 

"You know you can't mark me right now." He hisses and your grip on his hair loosens as his grip on yours tightens. "You're being such a slut tonight. This is what happens when I take you out?" 

He lets go of your hair and you whimper a bit at the loss of contact, Hyunjin leans back lying down on the bed and bringing you forward with him before grabbing your throat and turning you over so that he's on top of you.

 "I take my girl out to have a good time and all she can think about is fucking me." His words sting like venom and it feels so fucking good. He leans down and leaves a delicate kiss on your lips. His hand slowly leaves your throat and just when you're about to bite back at him with a spicy reply his hand collides with your cheek landing a deliciously sharp slap. He grabs your chin, interrupting your moan and turning your face back to his. 

"Look at me, angel." He whispers sweetly and your thighs press together at the contrast that his voice has to his actions. "You know what I thought when I saw you?"

He removes his hand from your face and looks down towards your exposed leg. The split in your dress now showing all of your plush thigh and some of your ass. "I thought that I just have to fuck you in this dress."

He reaches down and slowly trails his hand up your exposed leg. His nails scratching at your skin. You're so pent up with lust that this simple action makes your back arch up off of the mattress. 

"I thought about how sexy it would be to eat my princesses pussy while she's wearing Versace." He slaps the outside of your thigh making you moan. "I could've snuck my hand up under your dress whenever I wanted tonight. I could've teased you." 

He leans back down into your neck and nips at your jaw all the way up to your ear before whispering. "Would you have liked that? If I teased you, pulled you aside in the dressing room and fucked you dumb after we performed?"

You can feel him smile against you as you moan deeply in response. Your thighs pressed together desperately trying to relieve some of the tension building up. 

"I would've loved that." You run your hands down his body before you reach the tent in his pants. You palm at his erection, stroking him over the fabric. He hisses at the sensation, a breathy moan following as he drops his head down onto your shoulder. 

"I've been holding back all night." He whispers out and you bite your lip before whispering back. 

"Me too." He pulls away from you quickly planting both feet on the floor and taking you in swiftly, your curly hair is splayed across the mattress, your thigh is fully exposed and he can see a hint of your black thong. 

"Fuck it." He hisses sharply before grabbing your ankles and pulling your ass to the edge of the bed. Your dress rides up more now showing most if not all of your thong. "I need you, angel." 

Hyunjin drops to his knees in front of you, he hastily pushes your dress up around your hips and moves your thong to the side before diving into your soaked cunt. His tongue licks up your dripping heat and draws imaginary shapes into your pussy right after. His movements are harsh and hungry, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pushes them up for you to hold to your chest and give him a full view of you. 

"Oh my gosh" You moan out as your back arches off of the mattress, your mouth falling open with silent whines failing to escape. "Hyunjin, fuck." 

You've wanted him all night and now you've finally got him. His blushed lips moving hungrily against your cunt, animalistic groans erupting from his throat and vibrating through you as you try your best to stay in place for him. He pulls away, a naughty grin on his lips as he takes a second to wipe his chin. 

"Is this what you wanted?" He lands a firm pop on your cunt and your legs nearly close at the sensation. "Come on, princess, keep yourself open for me."

 He reaches down and unbuckles his belt with one hand as the other flicks at your swollen clit.

"Keep that pretty pussy on display for me." You whine at the stimulation, your grip on your thighs getting lighter and lighter the better that he makes you feel. "Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours." You moan out quickly hoping that if you're good for him he'll taste you again. A chuckle leaves his lips as his finger trails from your clit to your sopping entrance. He slowly slides his long digit into you and your legs fall against the mattress. You fight to keep your thighs apart as his finger slowly moves inside you. He adds two more quickly filling you up and giving you very little time to adjust. 

"This pussy is mine." He growls, leaning down to nip at your inner thigh. "But you were showing off this pretty body today like you wanted it to be someone else's." 

You groan in protest before forcing out a reply. "And what about you?" 

His fingers stop suddenly before he removes them from you completely. He lands another pop on your cunt before standing from his knees and pulling his belt from the loops of his pants. He drops the belt to the floor and props his bent knee onto the mattress so that he can lean over your curvy frame. 

"What about me?" His eyes search yours; they're dark and piercing but you don't dare to look away from him. "I was giving you a show, my angel."

"And I was giving you one, my prince." Your hand caresses his cheek softly and he leans into your touch. "You looked amazing, you performed well." 

Hyunjin smiles down at you softly. "I only performed well because I had you cheering me on." He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on your nose and then your cheeks making you smile. He kisses all over your face before hungrily attaching his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. 

"So you were giving me a show, huh?" He asks, pulling away from your lips just enough to speak. You shake your head in confirmation and suddenly hear the zipper to Hyunjins pants as he pulls them down a bit with one hand. "How about an encore?"

"My pleasure." Your lips are on each other again instantly as the two of you grab at each other's clothes. His fingers pull at the thin straps of your dress and yours fight to remove his pants in quick lustful movements. The sound of fabric slightly ripping fills the air but neither of you seem to care.

You wrap your arms around his neck allowing him to help you sit up so that he can unzip the back of your dress. He peels it off of you in what feels like slow motion but in reality was much quicker. His hands immediately start to toy with your exposed chest and you moan into his mouth as his thumbs toy at your sensitive nipples. You finally win the fight with his pants pulling them down and allowing them to pool around his ankles. You move your body closer to his so that you can properly rid him of his boxers, the black fabric sliding down his strong thighs and exposing his hardened member. 

"Come here" Hyunjin whispers against your lips before reconnecting them and backing up slowly leading you off of the bed. Once your feet hit the floor your dress does too, you step out of the pool of fabric and Hyunjin does the same with his pants and boxers. He pulls away once again to rid himself of his black shirt before gently grabbing your waist and diving into the crook of your neck. His teeth sink into the flesh of your neck and he sucks harshly, it's your turn to moan at the sharp sensation as he leaves deep red marks on your skin. 

"I thought we couldn't mark each other?" You ask breathlessly. 

"You can't mark me." He answers, pulling away from you to admire his work. "I can do whatever I want to you." 

His hands travel down your sides and up your back taking in every inch of your skin. Your hands do the same exploring every inch of his naked frame. Your hand found one of his and you interlaced your fingers before leading him over to the large window that your hotel room had, a grand view of the city on display before you. You let go of his hand and walked over to the chair placed at the desk next to you, moving it in front of the window. Hyunjin watched you with dark curious eyes and you couldn't help but to smile. 

"Sit" You prompted and he slowly obeyed, sitting with his forearms on the armrests and his legs spread apart giving you a beautiful view of his cock and balls. 

You stood in between his legs and held two fingers out to him. Without either of you saying a word he wrapped his lips around your fingers sucking and getting them wet for you. As you started to retract them he grabbed your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. He pursed his lips and spit onto your fingers licking his lips after with a grin. You whimpered at the sight before taking those fingers and spreading his spit over or cunt adding lubrication to your entrance. You turned around giving him a full view of your plump ass and reached back to spread your cheeks for him. A groan left his lips and his hand lightly grabbed at your waist to guide you towards his aching cock. He helped you position yourself before you sunk down onto him. His dick stretching you deliciously.  

"Oh baby." His head falls back and your fingers dig into his thighs. You immediately start to move, sliding up and down his hard member at a moderate pace. The fact that neither of you had much time to adjust made the sensations so much more intense. 

"Look at me, angel." You turn to look back at him, grabbing his shoulder to keep you steady. "You're so fucking beautiful." 

You moan at his praise and your body reacts by bouncing against him faster. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Hyunjin shifts you so that you’re turned back towards the window and grabs your waist with both hands. He holds you still against him before thrusting into you roughly, keeping you in place with his grip. Strangled moans leave your parted lips as he fucks into you deeper than before. 

"Fuck, yes yes." Your nails dig into his thighs and you're sure that there will be marks there later. His grunts intertwine with your moans as the two of you build yourselves closer and closer to release. The pent up lust from the eventful night bubbling in your stomach. 

"Baby, wait I-" You're cut off by your own moan when Hyunjin thrusts into you rougher than before. "I wanna see you." 

Hyunjin thrusts two more times before pulling out of you and sitting back into the chair breathlessly, he looks past you for a second. The lights of the city catching his eye, he stares for a second before looking back up at you and smiling. 

"I could paint this." His smile grows wider as the idea sinks in and he quickly pushes himself up out of the chair and rushes over to the side of the bed where his pants lay on the floor and searches for his phone. You giggle as your naked partner stalks back over to you with his phone in hand, the camera facing you as you stand naked in front of the floor to ceiling window. 

"Smile for me, angel." You do as you're told posing for him as he snaps photos of you. 

"My beautiful muse." His words come out in a whisper and you can't help but to blush. 

"Can I fuck you now? I was in the middle of your encore." He smiles over at you, locking his phone and dropping it into the chair. 

"Please, continue the show." He sits on the edge of the bed leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows. 

You sashay over to him, your hands resting on his shoulders when you reach him. You climbed onto his strong frame and swiftly slid his cock into your tight hole. 

"Fuck, someone's eager." He grunts out and you moan back in response. 

"I've wanted you all night." You bounce against him slowly, taking his full length inside of you. You make sure to swirl your hips when he fills you to the hilt and you moan out at the sensation. 

"Why are you so fucking tight." His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are low and lidded as he watches you ride him. Your tits bouncing and your curly hair swaying with the movement of your hips. You reach up behind him and grip his ponytail again, pulling at it so that his lidded eyes met yours. You're not sure who looks more fucked out right now but you're positive that you're both down bad for each other. 

"Harder." He whispers and you happily oblige, pulling his hair harder, your other hand tugging at the short hair of his undercut. A deep satisfied groan leaves him and your pussy clenched at the sound of it. "Fuck it, mark me baby."

You waste no time leaning in and sinking your teeth into his neck, you suck harshly right next to the purple mark that you left earlier and Hyunjin moans at the feeling. The sharp pain of your teeth against his sensitive skin making his cock twitch. He leans you both all the way back and props his feet up on the bed frame. He thrusts into you jackhammer style and you can't help but to bite harder on his skin. 

"Angel, I'm close." You pull away from his neck with a trail of spit connecting you to him. He sticks out his tongue to collect the drool falling from your lips as your mouth hangs open and gaspy moans escape you. 

"Please don't stop." You beg quietly, your eyes closed tightly as you try to concentrate on your pleasure. Hyunjin leans up as he pounds into you, licking the drool from the corner of your mouth and kissing you sloppily. 

"I won't stop, princess. I won't stop." He fucks into you mercilessly, hitting your sweet spot continuously. You can feel the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter and you groan at the build of lust. 

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, fuck" Your words are breathy and rushed as your pussy clenches around him. Hyunjin's eyes squeeze shut as he feels you contract around him, he groans as your cunt milks his own orgasm out of him. 

"Fuck baby, get off, I'm gonna cum." He pushes at your waist to get you off of him but you resist grinding down against him. "Baby, I can't hold back." 

He moans at the sight of you fucked out and drooling above him, sitting up to better force yourself down onto him. 

"I want your cum, please" That's all you had to say to make Hyunjin break. His nails scratch down your sides before gripping at the sheets desperately as he fills you. His thigh muscles tense at the new sensation of finishing inside of you. He's never had an orgasm as intense as the one he's had tonight.

"Angel.." He moans out but he meant for it to be the start of a sentence. You slowly lift up off of him hovering above him in a squat as he holds you stable by your hips. He watches as his cum drips out of your abused hole and he swore that he could bust again at the sight of it. 

You reach down and scoop up some of his arousal with two of your fingers, you slide your cum covered fingers into your mouth savoring the taste of him and you both let out a low moan. 

"Princess, we should get cleaned up." You lower yourself back onto his pelvis. His semi-hard dick nestled between his skin and your cunt. Mindlessly, you start to grind against him, the semen dripping from your hole being used as lube to glide your slick cunt against him. 

"More." You whisper, your now lidded fucked out eyes never leaving his.  "I didn't make you a mess yet." 

Hyunjin moans at the overstimulation lightly grabbing at your hips to try to stop your movement. "Fuck, that's s-so much. So fucking good."

You lean forward a bit, resting your hands on his chest as you move your hips against him. Moans and whines fall from your lips as his cock head bumps against your clit giving you the perfect amount of stimulation. The room is filled with your panting moans and the wet sounds of your cum covered skin rubbing against each other. Hyunjin reaches up and firmly grips your neck applying pressure to the sides drawing a hum of satisfaction from you. 

"Such a greedy girl." You grind against his now fully erect cock quicker and sloppier. You reach forward with both hands and return the favor caging his neck beneath your fingers and pressing slightly at the sides. 

"I want to ruin you." You groan out breathlessly and Hyunjin's eyes flutter shut at the sound. His tongue dipping out of his slightly parted lips and his brows furrowed. 

"You always do." He whispers with his eyes still shut. "Only you."

"You're mine." You gasp out as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten. 

"And you're mine." He groans out. He opens his eyes and they immediately land on yours. His face is red and his eyes are lazy. Your eyes mirror his with a deep blush covering your skin. 

"We ruin each other." He takes his hand from your throat and leaves a firm smack on your cheek. "Then put each other back together." 

His hand grips at your throat again, pulling you into him as your hips desperately buck against him. 

"Now fall apart for me." As if he flipped a switch your orgasm came rushing over you, your legs shaking against the mattress and your body falling against his. Hyunjin groans as he releases again, reaching his high right as yours starts to subside. You can feel his warm sticky cum against your stomach and you grin slightly at the feeling. 

"Fuck." You both whisper at the same time then chuckle lightly. 

"Are you happy now?" He asks against your ear as he strokes your hair pushing it out of your face. 

"So happy."

"Am I still sexy?" He asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

"So sexy." He laughs from under you and you smile into his shoulder. 

"Let me clean you up." He prompts, lifting you a bit and sliding you off of him. The feeling of his arousal smearing against both of your stomachs making you giggle. 

He slowly pushed himself off of the bed and stretched before wandering over to the bathroom. You could hear the water running and Hyunjin lightly humming to himself, something he always did as he initiated aftercare. He comes back Into the room in a hotel robe and leans over you, wiping down your body carefully while humming. You watch him closely as his eyes wander your body searching for spots to clean with the cloth. Your hand slowly reaches up to touch his forearm shifting his attention towards you, his eyes meet yours and a curious look crosses his face. You smile up at him softly and take a deep breath

"You really were amazing tonight."

"Are you referring to the sex or the award show?" He raises an eyebrow at you playfully and you swat at his arm.

"The award show… well both, but mostly the show." He chuckles at you shaking his head. "Really, I'm so proud of you."

He smiles down at you and his fingers rub smooth circles into the skin of your stomach. "Thank you, baby. That means everything coming from you."

He leans down and kisses your nose and forehead before going back to cleaning you up. 

"You were amazing tonight too." He hums.

"You enjoyed your encore?" You asked, smiling playfully. 

"How could I not with a performer this stunning?" He returns your smile and you sit up completely, hugging his waist. He lays a hand on the back of your head and strokes your hair lightly. 

"Thank you angel, for your unending support, whether it be in the bedroom or outside of it I'm grateful for all that you give me." You look up to find that he's already looking down at you with a fond smile. His eyes are sparkling like he could cry any second and you can't help but hug him tighter. 

"I'll always be here to cheer you on." 

"And I'll always be thankful for that."

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

One of the underlings hit you and your partner finds out

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- You entered your shared bedroom cautiously, hoping to go unnoticed, but the Joker’s eyes were sharp even in the dim light. He noticed the bruise on your cheek and the busted lip instantly, his grin freezing into something far more sinister. “Well, well, what have we here?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

- When you hesitated to answer, his patience snapped like a frayed wire. He grabbed your chin, tilting your face to inspect the damage. “Who?” he growled, his voice now devoid of its usual playful lilt. “Tell me who dared to mark my favorite little masterpiece.”

- You confessed reluctantly, explaining that one of the underlings had attacked you out of jealousy. The Joker’s laugh started low, bubbling up into a maniacal crescendo. “Jealousy!” he howled, clapping his hands together. “Oh, how precious! They thought they could touch what’s mine and walk away unscathed?”

- Without another word, he stormed out of the room, dragging you along by the wrist. His carnival of chaos always followed him, and tonight, you were part of the show. He found the culprit lounging smugly in the lounge, and his grin returned, wide and predatory. “Congratulations!” he declared, clapping the underling on the back. “You’ve just earned a starring role… in pain!”

- The Joker’s retribution was theatrical and brutal. He pulled out his knife, twirling it playfully as he toyed with the terrified underling. “You know,” he mused, “I always say jealousy is such an ugly emotion. Let’s see how you feel with no emotions at all!” His laughter filled the room as the blade gleamed.

- When it was over, he returned to you, his suit now spattered with blood. He wiped your lip with surprising tenderness, his head tilting as he studied you. “All better now, sugarplum,” he crooned, his mood swinging back to twisted affection. “No one gets to hurt you except me.”

- He spent the rest of the night doting on you in his own chaotic way, cracking jokes and reenacting the “punishment” for your amusement. Beneath the madness, though, his possessiveness was clear. “You’re mine, dollface,” he murmured, running a hand through your hair. “Anyone who forgets that ends up as a punchline.”

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley’s bubbly energy was unmistakable as you entered the room, but her expression quickly soured when she noticed your injuries. “Oh, puddin’, who did this to ya?” she asked, her voice filled with concern and a dangerous edge.

- When you told her about the jealous underling, Harley’s smile twisted into something sharp and feral. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, gently cupping your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care’a this little problem for ya.” Her tone was deceptively sweet, but her eyes burned with fury.

- She marched straight out, her mallet slung over her shoulder, humming a jaunty tune. You followed hesitantly, watching as she cornered the offender. “Hey there, sugar,” she said with faux friendliness, her mallet swinging lazily in her hand. “I hear you’ve been pickin’ fights with my honeybun.”

- The underling stammered excuses, but Harley was already circling like a predator. “Aww, don’t be shy!” she chirped. “Let’s play a game. It’s called Whack-a-Traitor!” With a gleeful laugh, she brought the mallet down with terrifying force.

- The scene was as brutal as it was efficient. Harley danced around her victim with chaotic grace, each swing of her mallet punctuated by a giggle. “Nobody messes with my baby!” she declared, her voice ringing with conviction.

- When it was over, she bounced back to you, wiping a smudge of blood from her cheek. “All done!” she announced cheerfully, throwing her arms around you. “Nobody’s ever gonna mess with ya again, puddin’. Not while I’m around.”

- That night, she pampered you like royalty, insisting on patching up your lip herself. Between stolen kisses and her playful jokes, you couldn’t help but feel safe despite the carnage. “You an’ me against the world, sweetie,” she said softly, her blue eyes sparkling. “And don’t you forget it.”

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Ivy was lounging gracefully among her plants when you entered, but her serene expression darkened the moment she saw your injuries. “Who did this to you?” she asked, her voice low and venomous, like the hiss of a cobra.

- You hesitated, but her sharp green eyes left no room for evasion. When you finally explained, Ivy’s composure cracked, revealing a wrath that felt as ancient as the earth itself. “They dared to harm you?” she murmured, her voice trembling with fury. “They’ll regret ever drawing breath.”

- Rising gracefully, Ivy summoned her vines with a flick of her wrist. “Come,” she said, her tone commanding. “We have work to do.” You followed as the plants parted for her, their movements strangely menacing. Her connection to nature seemed almost alive with her anger.

- She confronted the underling in her usual calm yet intimidating way, her vines coiling menacingly around them. “You thought you could harm my partner and get away with it?” she asked, her voice dripping with disdain. “Foolish. Very foolish.”

- Ivy’s punishment was swift and merciless. The vines tightened around the underling, their cries muffled as the plants did her bidding. She stood over them, her expression cold. “The earth will reclaim you,” she said simply, turning away as the vines dragged them into the shadows.

- When she returned to you, her anger softened into tenderness. She cupped your face gently, her fingers cool against your skin. “No one will hurt you again,” she promised, her voice like a soothing lullaby. “Not while I have the power to protect you.”

- That night, she surrounded you with the comforting scent of her plants, their soothing presence lulling you to sleep. “You’re mine, my love,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “And anyone who dares harm you will answer to the wrath of Mother Nature herself.”

Bane

- Bane’s sharp eyes immediately noticed your injuries when you stepped into the room. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched as he asked, “Who dared to harm you?” His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable undercurrent of rage.

- When you told him it was one of his own men, his composure shattered. “One of mine?” he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief and anger. “They will pay for this insult.” He rose to his full, imposing height, his presence radiating fury and power.

- Without hesitation, Bane marched out to find the offender. His movements were purposeful, each step echoing with the promise of retribution. You followed at a safe distance, knowing better than to intervene when he was like this.

- He confronted the underling with cold precision, his voice like a growl. “You struck someone under my protection,” he said, towering over them. “That is a grave mistake.” The underling tried to plead, but Bane was unmoved.

- The punishment was swift and brutal. Bane’s strength was terrifying, and he used it to devastating effect. Each blow was delivered with calculated precision, his fury controlled but unrelenting. When it was over, he stood over the lifeless body, his breathing steady. “Let this be a warning to anyone who dares to harm what is mine,” he declared.

- Returning to you, Bane’s demeanor shifted. He knelt before you, his hands surprisingly gentle as he inspected your injuries. “I have dealt with the matter,” he said simply, his voice softening. “No one will harm you again.”

- That night, he stayed close to you, his protective nature evident in every gesture. “You are precious to me,” he murmured, his deep voice filled with sincerity. “And I will always ensure your safety, no matter the cost.”

- Jonathan was engrossed in his latest experiment when you entered the room, your face bruised and lip split. His sharp gaze immediately noticed, and his expression hardened. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice cold and clinical but with a hint of concern beneath.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- You hesitated under his calculating stare, but there was no avoiding his interrogation. When you explained it was one of his underlings acting out of jealousy, his lips curled into a dark smile. “Jealousy. Such a fascinating emotion,” he mused. “I’ll ensure they experience fear instead—true fear.”

- He stood, his movements deliberate as he grabbed his iconic mask and canisters of fear toxin. “Wait here,” he instructed, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll deal with this… interruption to my work.” Though his voice was calm, his anger simmered beneath the surface.

- Finding the culprit, Jonathan wasted no time in delivering his unique brand of justice. The room filled with his chilling laughter as he released the fear toxin, watching as the underling crumbled into terror. “You dared to touch them?” he hissed. “Let’s see how brave you feel when your worst nightmares come to life.”

- He took his time, ensuring the punishment was both psychological and physical. Each scream seemed to satisfy him more, his clinical fascination mingling with his wrath. When he returned to you, he looked calmer, almost serene, as if purging his anger through their suffering.

- Jonathan knelt before you, his touch surprisingly gentle as he wiped a trickle of blood from your lip. “No one will hurt you again,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re mine to protect, and I’ll make sure everyone knows the consequences of crossing that line.”

- That night, he stayed close, his rare displays of affection manifesting in small ways—checking on your injuries, brewing you tea, and offering you a book from his collection. “You ground me,” he murmured as you drifted off. “And I won’t let anyone take you away.”

- Harvey noticed your injuries the moment you entered the room. His dual nature became evident as one side of him looked worried while the other seemed immediately enraged. “What the hell happened?” he demanded, his voice a mix of care and fury.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- You hesitated, but under his intense gaze, you confessed it was one of his underlings who had attacked you. “They thought I didn’t belong,” you admitted. Harvey’s good side frowned deeply, but his scarred side twisted into a snarl. “They thought they could hurt you and get away with it?”

- Reaching into his pocket, Harvey pulled out his coin, flipping it with a practiced motion. “Heads, I scare them. Tails…” His scarred side grinned maliciously. “I get creative.” When it landed tails, he stood abruptly. “Stay here,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

- Harvey confronted the underling with all the unpredictability of his dual nature. His voice oscillated between cold reason and raw anger. “You dared lay a hand on them?” he growled. “Let’s see how you like answering to me.” His punishment was brutal, his scarred side reveling in it while his good side rationalized it as necessary.

- The room was eerily silent when he returned, his hands still shaking with residual anger. He pulled you into his arms carefully, his good side apologizing softly while his scarred side muttered curses against the world. “No one touches what’s mine,” he said, his voice firm.

- That night, he remained close, torn between his need to protect you and the guilt over his violent reaction. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said quietly. “But I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Not while I’m still standing.”

- His duality showed in his care—one side tender, ensuring your comfort, while the other vowed vengeance against anyone who dared cross you again. “You’re the only thing keeping me balanced,” he admitted. “I’ll destroy anyone who tries to take that away.”

- Edward’s sharp intellect didn’t miss a thing, so the moment you walked in with a bruised cheek and busted lip, he froze. His smirk vanished, replaced with a calculating frown. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- You explained reluctantly, telling him one of his underlings had lashed out in jealousy. Edward’s eyes darkened, and a dangerous grin spread across his face. “Jealousy,” he repeated, tapping his temple. “What an irrational emotion. Let’s see how rational they feel after I’m done with them.”

- His mind was already working overtime as he led you to his chair. “Sit,” he ordered, placing a blanket over your shoulders. “I’ll handle this.” He left the room with his signature cane in hand, his steps brisk and purposeful.

- Edward confronted the underling with all the flair and intellect he was known for. “Riddle me this,” he began, his tone venomous. “What happens to someone foolish enough to harm the one person I care about?” When the underling stammered, Edward struck with his cane. “Wrong answer!”

- He played with his victim like a cat with a mouse, his riddles cruel and his strikes precise. “Your jealousy was misplaced,” he sneered, leaning in close. “They’re mine, and you? You’re just another irrelevant piece on my board.”

- Returning to you, Edward’s mood shifted. He knelt by your side, his hands uncharacteristically gentle as he inspected your injuries. “You’re far too brilliant to be dealing with idiots like that,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

- That night, he pampered you with little puzzles and brainteasers, his way of distracting you from the pain. “You’re my equal,” he murmured, his voice unusually tender. “And I won’t let anyone disrupt the perfection we’ve built.”

- Oswald’s beady eyes immediately honed in on your injuries when you walked in. He set down his glass of brandy with deliberate care, his voice deceptively calm as he asked, “Who did this to you, darling?”

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- When you told him it was one of his own men, Oswald’s face twisted into a mask of rage. “One of my employees?” he hissed, gripping his umbrella tightly. “I’ll make an example of them they won’t forget—assuming they live to remember it.”

- Oswald marched out of the room, his umbrella clicking against the floor with each step. His subordinates scattered like rats at the sight of his fury, knowing better than to cross him when he was in such a mood.

- Finding the culprit, Oswald wasted no time. “You dared to harm someone under my protection?” he snarled, his voice carrying through the room. He used his umbrella with precision, the concealed blade flashing as he delivered his ruthless punishment.

- When it was over, he returned to you, smoothing his suit and regaining his composure. “It’s done,” he said simply, pouring you a glass of your favorite drink. “No one will ever harm you again, not while I have the power to stop it.”

- That night, he lavished you with attention, his usually cold demeanor melting into rare warmth. “You mean more to me than all the wealth in Gotham,” he admitted, his voice low. “And I protect what’s mine. Always.”

- Oswald’s actions spoke louder than words as he ensured you were comfortable and safe. “You’re my diamond,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against yours. “And anyone foolish enough to harm you will be crushed under the weight of my wrath.”

[urds-lover]

୨୧ Yandere Muzan x reader ୨୧

It was a cloudy night when you tried escaping from your husband, Muzan Kibutsuji, he was always so possessive of you it was unbearable. You were too tired of this and when you mentioned it to him he went crazy. You had no choice but to escape the hell Muzan created for you.

He was out tonight, promising to be back as soon as he could. He locked all the doors and windows before he went out.

And here you were trying to nudge it open with your hairpin. After a while it worked, your efforts did not go to waste afterall, at least that's what you thought.

Just as you were about to start climbing down the window, in the dimly lit room, the silence was broken with the soft rustling of Muzan's clothes.

You were so busy with opening the window that you didn't hear the front door open.

Muzan approached you as his wine red eyes bore into your soul making it clear that escaping was no option. You could feel the cold, sharp edge of fear slice through you as you tried to keep your composure.

Muzan stopped a few inches away from you, his gaze never leaving. His lips curled into a sinister smile, one that promised nothing but pain and suffering.

"Do you think you can escape me?"

He asked in a low whisper as cold wind blew through the window.

"Do you really think you can outrun your fate my love?"

He questioned you again as the atmosphere got colder and the tension in the air kept growing.

"I-I'm sorry..."

He took a step closer to you, your heart pounding as you wished to still be alive after this. You wanted to run but it would be of no use.

"Perhaps.." he mused tilting his head "I should just break your legs? That way you couldn't run from me anymore"

His words were casual and playful but they had a tone of threat behind those words.

Before you could even react Muzan was gripping your arm tightly sending an inhuman shock of pain through your whole body making you tremble in pain.

"You belong to me, there is no escaping me, no freedom, only me"

He whispered into your ears making it crystal clear to you that now that you were his, you have no freedom, no nothing, just him and only him.

Thanks for reading!⊹˚୨୧˚

[lipglossanon]

The Old Ways

Leon S. Kennedy x Priestess fem!reader

A little more savory tier commission from the lovely @porcelainseashore 💜 thank you for your patience 😭

Word Count: 2318 🫣

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, alternate universe, paganistic practices, animal sacrifice, slight gore, blood, blood sacrifice, bloodletting, predator/prey, sex magick, biting, marking, scratching, rough sex, voyeurism, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie

proofread

Mother Moon wanes in the sky, like the sly grin of a fox. Turning your gaze from her cool light, you continue with your toiling. You gather herbs along with the other village women, whispering chants over the brambles and plants. Tomorrow you welcome the birth of a new moon and winter—and with those, the ceremony of oblation. 

The wights of the land clamor for your attention, whispering in your ear of the hunger for blood to be shed. As the priestess, you’ve led many rites to the elder gods. Every full moon a calf is sacrificed at the altar in the center of the village, followed by dancing and merriment. A wooden goblet is filled with its blood and poured upon your nude body, anointing you with its life so you can pass it on to the village. 

The women and men are gifted with innate power, dark arts to help keep your community prosperous and safe. These sacred practices have been passed down through the ages, the covenant with the Dark Ones holding fast and true with every new generation. It now falls upon you as the newest priestess to keep up these traditions.

The air is sharp and cold, furs keeping the soft animal of your body warm. Your fingers curl like the gnarled hands of the older women beside you, a fate you hope to see in your future. A few of them catch your eye and nod, solemn gazes and voices when otherwise there would be singing and joy.

Your gaze alights upon a party of the men returning from their traps, various animals thrown over their shoulders or writhing in sacks gripped in their fists. A few of them spot you and nod in respect. As you watch them walk back to the village, you muse that one of these men will partake in the ritual with you tonight. Many of them are a stranger to your eyes, but if it is the will of the ancient ones, then it shall come to pass.

Once enough has been gathered, each of the women rise and follow along the winding path back to the village temple. Fires burn bright and hot in the night, dancing shadows cast upon the men while they skin and flay the carcass of beasts in preparation for tomorrow night.

Entering into the temple last, the other women have formed a circle around the altar. The red-stained surface feels cool under your fingers when you press your own herbs down onto it. Words spill from your lips like wine, an ancient chant of embracing the dark for its sinister gifts. Other voices join, swelling to fill the chamber with their ambiance. 

Hands raise in supplication, feet stamp against the cold, earthen floor, and you slice open your palm to rub blood across the runes etched into the stone altar. Once filled, you turn, chanting softly, to paint symbols across each of the women’s faces. They bow their heads and sink to their knees once they’ve been anointed. Before reaching the final woman, a wisp of a boy—straddling the line of manhood—enters the doorway with a plump hare in hand. 

He waits until you beckon him forward with blood-coated fingers. Placing the warm animal in your arms, he leaves the temple. The chanting of the women ebbs and flows like the wind in a storm, the sound bolstering and soothing. An elderly woman steps forward and holds the hare against the altar’s face. Pulling out the same blade you used to slice your hand, you wait until the old woman snaps its neck, then you plunge your blade deep in its soft belly. 

Lifeblood runs hot and thick across the stone. Each of the village women comes forward to gather the blood, bathing their arms and necks with the dark liquid. You skin the chosen creature, gutting it quickly before the innards grow too cold for use and drop the heart and lungs in a separate wooden bowl. Finished, you pick up the bowl and walk outside to the center of the village. You toss them into the fire with a smattering of herbs gathered earlier. 

You shout out an incantation, tossing more herbs and branches into the fire. Voice growing quiet, you bow to the flame, ending the ritual. Everything is now in place for tomorrow’s oblation. A few of the women help you to your home, exhausted as you are from the fervor of performing your duties.

The next morning dawns brightly. You rise along with the burgeoning rays. Dressing for the cold, you join the congregation of people at the temple. The scant time of daylight is spent readying the skins and headpieces for the ceremony. Masks and furs are to be given to those joining, a trickery of confusion to one chosen to Hunt for the priestess. The times when the Hunter has become confused and chosen poorly, the dark gods were unkind, and many perished.

The village elders now choose more carefully lest it happen again. For as long as you’ve been alive, every chase has ended with the priestess caught, ensuring the village is secure until the next ceremony of oblation. The sun begins to set, signifying an end to preparations. 

Everyone begins to gather outside the temple. The elders talk amongst themselves, narrowing down who shall become the Hunter—who shall be the one to find you amidst the trickery in the dark of the forest—the one who shall perform the ceremony and satisfy the lust of the ancient ones.

“Leon, come forth.”

A young man with blonde hair and blue eyes is brought forward. His strong arms, offset by scars, signify battles won, someone who must be from the war party. You’ve seen him before, but with his task of being a fighter, he is rarely in the village. This ceremony, however, requires everyone to partake. All of the war parties and hunting parties made the trek back home in time. 

A loud cheer goes up when the man accepts the crown of raven’s wings, letting one of the elders anoint his brow with blood before placing it atop his head. He shrugs on the sacred skin of the bear, cutting a formidable figure against the dying sun. You hope he is up to the task. His serious blue eyes seek you out amidst the villagers, nodding in deference once he locks eyes with you.

You join the elders and enter the temple. They strip you of your warmth and paint your body with runes and symbols of the dark gods you worship. Herbs are crushed into a paste and smeared across your belly and breasts. Chants and incantations are murmured while they ready you for the ritual. Dressing you in the coat of a freshly skinned stag, they adorn your brow with a headdress of antlers.

Guiding you from the temple, you join the group of men and women joining the chase, each dressed in skins and masks. Now that you’re ready, they’re off, running into the dark of the forest with you trailing behind. The elders will release the Hunter once they’ve completed the blessings for him. It’s not long before villagers begin to split off. 

The chase warms the blood. It’s why this part of the ceremony has lasted the test of time. Warm blood is the preferred offering of your dark gods. The antlers snag on a low branch and keep you in place. You can hear the others running, footfalls muted on the soft, damp earth. It gives them time to distract and escape from the clutches of the Hunter. 

The heavy coat of the stag drips against your skin, sticky blood running down your naked body. You finally snap the branch that’s keeping you from moving, feet picking up speed until you’re running through the winding trunks. The silver birches gleam like ghosts in the murky night. You catch fleeting glimpses of other animals—deer, rabbits, a fox or two. Your eyes have yet to see the Hunter, clad in the finest bearskin with a crown of raven’s wings atop his brow.

No matter how cold the night is, the heat of the chase keeps the chill at bay. You’re close to where the ritual needs to take place. This Hunter is smart, corralling you close enough that he can catch you more easily. The elders chose wisely this time. The tree comes into view. A horrible wretch of a thing. Legend tells the screaming face embedded in its onyx-colored bark is the combined souls of those who would do the village harm. Another reason why the covenant with the dark gods is so necessary. Its thorny branches are sharp enough to slice into flesh. 

A thick arm bands around your waist, stopping your momentum and sending you stumbling back against a warm, fur-covered chest.

“I’ve caught you, priestess.”

You can see the smoke of Leon’s breath passing by the side of your face. A low humming chant begins deep in the forest, the elders leading the procession of villagers to the site of the ceremony. He manhandles you until he’s pressing your back against the rough bark of the dead, wizened tree. The antlers are tossed from your head onto the ground along with his own crown before he takes your lips in a rough, hungry kiss. 

The men and women begin to form a semicircle around the tree, witness to the ritual about to take place. They’re only a minor distraction before Leon rips the stag coat from your body, dropping it at your feet. Skin scraping against the bark makes you hiss in pain, small cuts forming along your back and arms. He kisses you again, parting his own animal skin to bare his naked body. 

You pull away and sink your teeth into his shoulder, biting hard enough the tang of blood fills your mouth. He grunts, cock thickening against your leg. Shoving you more firmly against the dead tree, he slots his leg between your thighs, pressing the damp lips of your cunt against the warm skin. Hissing, you rock down against him, pleasure zipping through your body. 

The ritual is meant to be bloody and rough, an offering to the dark gods that bay and howl for life. Leon moves to kiss you again at the same time you dip forward to bite his other shoulder. His chin knocks against your cheek, making you shift, arm catching on a thorn-covered branch and slicing open your flesh. Pulling you into his chest, he braces his forearm against your side, the branch cutting into his flesh and preventing it from sinking into yours.

You admire his care; the ancient ones have no preferences whose blood is shed as long as it is human and it is fresh. He kisses across your jaw before sinking his own teeth into your neck at the same time he lifts your leg to wrap around his waist. Your eyes catch sight of the villagers, standing solemnly, watching as Leon and you perform the rite. He brings your attention back when he ruts his cock against the seam of your cunt. Notching the head of his dick at your hole, he bullies his way completely inside, stuffing and stretching your pussy so suddenly you can’t breathe. 

He groans like a wounded dog, pulling halfway out before sinking back into your pliant flesh. Your nails scratch and claw at his back, shredding the skin underneath. He retaliates by biting and snarling, teeth maiming your neck and shoulders until it’s a bloody mess. All thoughts of higher thinking are lost to the frenzy. Leon mates you like some rabid animal. You're biting and clawing at each other—blood spilling from your bodies to coat the imposing tree at your back.

At some point, Leon pulls out to spin you around, pressing your stomach and chest against the rough bark. Keening like a bitch in heat, Leon pounds your cunt with hard, powerful thrusts. More cuts open against the soft meat of your belly and breasts, palms scraping against the tree while Leon fucks your pussy into submission. His palm cups above your mound, angling your body back in a way that makes you clamp down around his cock. 

Groaning, he keeps up the fast pace—his dick plunging in and out of your wet, dripping hole, the tip grazing something so delicious it’s making your brain light up in ways you’ve never experienced. You can’t stop the noises escaping you, like a stuck pig braying for help. Leon rams into you, cock thick and heavy, stretching you out. A pleasure unlike anything you’ve experienced is overcoming your senses. Your fingers curl into claws, mouth open in a silent scream as something in your brain snaps. 

Everything goes silent except the pleasure engulfing your entire being. Time is infinite in this space. Tears streak down your cheeks, eyes open yet unseeing even as Leon buries his cock to the hilt to fill you with his sticky spend. You come to yourself when a heavy fur is draped around your exhausted body. 

“Priestess, the ceremony of oblation is complete.”

Turning, you look into a pair of blue eyes. 

“Thank you,” you rasp, voice scratchy. 

He shifts on his feet, nude body covered with his own animal skin. The various men and women are walking back to the village, preparing the feast that is to follow the ritual. Leon stands next to you, a warm and quiet presence while you gain your bearings once more.

You walk in silence, side by side, through the forest. It’s a companionable feeling, a sense of peace that pervades you. The man beside you coughs lightly. 

“Priestess,” he pauses for a breath. “May I dance with you at the fire tonight?”

Heat suffuses your chest, and you smile at him, dried blood flaking from the movement. 

“I’d like that, Leon.”

[simping-on-the-daily]

you look good tonight (strangled by your tie to me)

Summary: Bill’s off celebrating the Endless Party with their friends, instructing you to teach the senior citizen some new moves. Reader desperately tries to assure themselves they’re mentally well.

Part 2 to this!! And this one won the poll, so here ya go!!

Warnings: Gore, Reader’s heart gets abused again, forced pet regression/mind control, toxic relationships, mentions of bullying, the inherent weirdness of asking a mind-controlled dogboy to kiss you, Reader's morally ambigious/on a destructive power trip

Notes: Title is from HalaCG’s Nightmare Worldwide, Reader has an ambiguous birth defect/condition, though I tend to imagine it as polycoria or something similar to Down Syndrome, Reader slanders BookTok, references to The Yellow Wallpaper, Bill's all pronoun swag continues, Reader's mentioned to have hair as a minor

As a young adult, The Yellow Wallpaper used to fascinate you as a kid. A tale of medical misogyny at its worst, how the woman’s postpartum depression morphed into something sinister because of her husband’s twisted ‘care.’ You once promised yourself that you were nothing like the woman, that you were stronger than her. You were smarter and better than her, you’d escape the yellow wallpaper with your sanity intact.

Of course, you’d soon learn that knowing from her example does not make you better than the woman. You were not superior to Icarus because you learned from his mistakes, you could never understand the hubris of a mad scientist because you weren’t a scientist. Meeting Ford and catching a few moments of intellectual lucidity from Old Man McGucket were sciency enough for you (quantum mechanics were so not your style). Accepting that you were human and the woman was human made you feel better about yourself.

Now? You weren’t really sure that you were human, not anymore. And you're not sure if you're the woman now, because she lost herself to the delusions of isolation and thought she was the figure in the wallpaper. But there was a man in front of you, crawling on all fours, just like the shadow, and you don't think you could ever become him. You were better then him.

Ford stared up at you, awestruck, as he always had. Did he see you as another Muse, another polygon to worship and put posters all over the basement, to dedicate his work in your name? Though, it probably wasn’t all directed at you, and you hated the way you wanted to grab Ford by the face and let his nose touch yours and not let go.

Because right beside you was Bill motherfucking Cipher, floating all smug with his cane and if you weren’t focused on Ford you’d take that giant stick you’d shove it in his eye before praying to whatever God was still alive that Bill had an ass you could shove the stake up of. And her stupid face was smug too, expression in the closest thing you think she could get to a lazy grin.

“So, snookums, you know what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck.” You were supposed to listen to them?

“Haha, need a recap? I’m a-okay with that!” Bill’s eye turned upwards in giddy glee. “Previously on Keeping Up With The Ciphers-” “Are you fucking kidding me-?”

“The best friend forever, Bill, promised his Henchmaniacs he’d go out and join them on an all out tour of Oregon! Tickets sold out, eat your heart out, Tay-tay!” With a sickening lurch and a weak scream littered with swearing, your heart was ripped out of your socket and Bill took a nibble. You curled in on yourself, hiding your attempt at a bird flip as you stared up at Bill with seething contempt. You hated how that was their new recurring gag.

“While we’ll be having fun and increasing our ALL-SEEING EYES on the Pines family,” Your heart lurched, resuming your prayers for their safety and happiness. Soos and Wendy were good kids, and the kids couldn’t take the grief if something happened to them. “Sugarbun and Sixer will be having some quality master pet time!”

The way your heart soared knowing who was the pet and who had the control could not be water-boarded out of you.

“You’ll be teaching this old dog new tricks, give his bones a peaceful workout! Say, being on his knees is letting them rest way more than always running away from the Quxezquan?” Bill floated over to Ford, rubbing his hand through his hair. You can confirm Ford purred at that one.

“You know dog-shit about human anatomy.”

“But I know dog-lots about sweet Sixer here, and that’s the important part! Give me some more time and I’ll know LOTS about you as well! The heart’s where the soul is, and we’ve been getting real intimate!” Her fingers began to rip your organ in half, and you resisted the urge to scream. Dipper had a whole rap recording of his voice cracks, you didn’t need a more fucked up version of that.

“I’ll leave this here, if you wanna play a few games with Fordsy!” With an unceremonious squelch, your heart fell to the ground. “Well, I’ll be off! Byeeeeeeee, sweeties!” With that, Bill vanished in a flash of golden, Ford turning his eyes from her to you.

“........Hi?” Not your best.

Ford embraced the ground more than he already had, forehead touching the floor. So, he thought everything was your best. You refused to address how euphoric that made you feel.

“Let’s just……run through the basics, I think?” You didn’t really want to cope with a Bill who came back and learnt you didn’t do his instructions. Everytime they came back from the Henchmaniacs, she was always jumping for joy or ready to rip either you or Ford’s face off. Ford seemed to enjoy it but Bill said he liked to respect your boundaries, said that they’d give you time. Bullshit.

Ford nodded, hearts in his eyes as he looked up to you, getting up and ‘standing’ at perfect, doggy attention. Fuck, you were always more of a cat person, what were you supposed to do now? Fuck, you needed your phone.

You stuttered a bit, brain racking through the list of easy tricks. Ford’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, but the look of sheer love in his eyes didn’t subside.

“L-Lie down.” That seemed like the easiest one.

Like a lightbulb turned on, Ford’s face brightened, before flopping on his right side. You distinctly remember it as the way human Ford, pre-Weirdmaggedon Ford would occasionally go to bed, one the few occasions he did and didn’t pose like a dead man.

It felt a bit off to you, though. “Upright.” Dogs layed like that, right?

With no hesitance, Ford adjusted his position, lying on his stomach, hands stretched out towards you on the floor. Yeah, that looked more accurate. “Roll over.” You continued, motivated by Ford’s face and your lack of failure. Ford continued to impress, with a quick roll you think you’d seen in action movies, hands and legs up as his stomach faced the roof, decorated by Bill’s visage, surrounded by a wheel of household items, what you’re pretty sure was an alpaca, and stuff you immediately recognised from the Pines Family. After all, you knew only one man who wore that crescent oyster phoenix pearl fish thing.

“Play dead.” Ford’s limbs were out strewn before going slack, tilting so that he leaned more to the left.

“Headstand?”

Ford’s head titled in confusion. God, that was stupid. What kind of dogs could do a headstand?

“Fuck!” You growled under your breath, bitter that your streak was ruined. Your anger was interrupted by Ford’s nose gently nuzzling your knee, and you felt it all dissipate. Times like these reminded you that Bill wasn’t going to be death of you. Rather, it was his damned dog and his adorable little glasses and cute innocent smile.

You pat his head gently, and Ford only responded with a ‘yip!’, which he could apparently do. As if your heart wasn’t growing three times its size every day Fordsy was in your vicinity.

“Kiss me.”

What.

“I-” You froze, arms outstretched as your hands shook. “No, that’s weird, you’re in the headspace of an animal, that’s so fucked- but like, people do way worse then that, right? People wayyyy younger then me writing all their stories about rich millionaires and getting their brothers to fuck you instead, ha, yeah, I’m way better then those TikTokers and their books-”

His lips touched yours. Ford was fucking kissing you. This was wrong. He was being mind controlled, there was probably a pendulum swinging in his brain to keep him like this, you weren’t Bill, you were better than him, you were better then the high-schoolers and kids who picked on you and threw rocks at you and locked you in the closet and made you play seven minutes in heaven with a guy who threatened to cut your hair-

And yet you leaned in. You grabbed him by the waist and hugged him, as though you were going to lift him up. You couldn’t- Ford was tall and you weren’t in your prime, but knowing that Ford wouldn’t fight you if you tried felt like a massive boost to your confidence. He’d do anything for you, he’d protect you from the kids who called you a freak and never invited you to their birthdays. And he’d do it with a smile, because he loved you and Bill-

Bill. You opened your eyes (when did you close them?) and looked up to the roof, terror etched in your pupils.

Bill’s visage, surrounded by that stupid wheel.

You pushed Ford off, overcome by panic. He wasn’t out with the Henchmaniacs, he was probably laughing at you and saying that you were a horrible person who deserved to be alone but you weren’t. You were a good person. Ford wouldn’t have hung out with you if you were a bad person. Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t hang out with you if you were a bad person. Stan wouldn’t let you be near the kids or Ford if you were a bad person. Wendy and Soos wouldn’t let you hang out near the kids or the shack if you were a bad person.

But you had just kissed Ford when he was a dog. You liked it when he was a dog. You enjoyed the power you had over him. You wanted your name on his collar and for your symbol to be on his leash, not just that triangle chain that connected the two.

You fell to the ground, unable to stand. You stomped on your heart and something burst, blood splattering all over your face and arm. You didn’t scream, though, or curl in on yourself. The pain of one organ and its constant abuse was nothing compared to the rollercoaster your mind was.

I’m a good person. I’m better than the people who hurt me. I won’t hurt people. My revenge is being better than those who hurt me.

Your misery was interrupted by Ford, curling up next to you with a worried look and a yip. You stroked his hair, the pattern soothing the tension in your body ever so slightly, but unlike with the headstand, he couldn’t fix this or soothe your worries. Not when he had caused them, not when he was the root. Ford and his stupid little cute face and the way he didn’t look so stressed and the way those soft gloves were probably protecting him from the pain of his knuckles on the ground.

No, not him. Never Ford. You couldn’t blame him, heaven knows he did that enough himself. Bill, it had to be Bill. Because it couldn’t be you. You couldn’t be a monster, you couldn’t be continuing a cycle of pain just because the opportunity was in your lap.

The woman in The Yellow Wallpaper had no-one, not really. All she had was her husband’s shitty reassurances that she’d be ‘cured’ if she stayed in the nursery and a woman she made up. You weren’t the woman, because the two people who haunted you were very much real. The psychical manifestations of a drug and the dealer.

You weren’t sure which was worse.

[b00kdiary]

Yours | Rhysand

Rhysand X Plus size reader

Y/N meets Rhys in a bar- one month after the worst night of her life. One month after he saved her. But Rhys has no interest in being a hero, and Y/N doesn't want to be a victim. They only want each other.

Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, allusions to SA/ r*pe, fluff, angst and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"For Cauldron's sake, Rhys," Cassian laughed, a husky, low sound. It interrupted my hazed thought, dragging me back to this room, with its incandescent lights and booming music. "You've been staring at her like a creep for hours, why don't you just go talk to her?"

I clear my throat, forcing boredom into my face as I roll back the sleeves of my navy shirt. My eyes move to stare at my brothers before me, both of them smirking, a knowing gleam in their dark eyes.

"No idea what you mean, Cass," I drawl, leaning back against the leather seat, my long legs spreading out before me. I curl my fingers around the cold glass on the table, a nonchalant smile tilting my lips as I bring the cup to my mouth and sip.

"No? So, you haven't been staring at the female sitting at the bar all night?" Azriel mused, his brow raised mockingly and the shadows around his shoulders dance with every word, as if amused. "The pretty one with all those lovely curves and the smile that could melt ice?"

My hand clenches around the glass at his words, just for a second, barely even long enough for anyone to notice- but Azriel does, he always does. I shake my head as his eyes twinkle, knowing he was goading me, talking about her to force a reaction from me and like an idiot, I fell for it.

"There are plenty of pretty females here tonight, Az," I counter, lying through my teeth with an easy smile. It takes every ounce of control in me, five hundred years' worth of control, to not look in her direction, to not be drawn back to her lovely form. "Why don't the two of you go bother them and leave me alone?"

Cassian snorts and my eyes narrow at him as he runs a hand over his stubbly jaw, his hazel eyes darkening as he glances at her- sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine in one hand while the other moved animatedly as she talked and laughed with her friend.

I felt a smile tug at my lips at the sight, at the bright grin and glowing eyes, that could indeed melt ice.

I can't help but look over her again, taking in her bouncing hair and plump, soft face. I ran my eyes down her body, over the dress that clung and moulded perfectly to every curve and dip and roll of flesh she had been blessed with.

"You're right Rhysand, we should go speak to one of the lovely females here tonight," Cassian nodded and as he began to rise from his seat, his eyes unwavering upon her, Azriel chuckled.

Under any other circumstance, I would have been laughing too, would have been utterly amused by Cassian's teasing, by the banter we always found ourselves in, even five hundred years later. But as he watched her, as that familiar desire lit in his gaze, something in me burned.

"Since you're not going to make a move on her brother, you won't mind if I-"

"Sit down," I breathe, low and sinister, and more than a few eyes turn to me at the vibration of dark power that begins to emanate from me as I glare up at Cassian. He smiles, victorious, and even despite the violence promised in my gaze, he doesn't relent. "Now, Cassian."

I could feel the Fae instinct in me scorching to life, that terrible, violent urge to hurt Cassian- he was my brother, my family, and yet the mere thought of him even looking at her, thinking about her in any way, made me want to tear his throat out.

"Now that we've established, you're a territorial prick and you are interested in her," Cassian beamed, unfazed by the intense and unfathomable power radiating off me, merely sitting back down and cocking his head at me. "Why don't you go talk to her? I've never known you to be shy, Rhys."

"I'm not shy," I bare my teeth at him, tendrils of jealousy and aggression still clawing at my chest. Cass and Az share an amused glance and I grit my teeth, choosing to chug back the remaining alcohol in my glass, before slamming it back onto the table. "I just don't want to make her uncomfortable, she might not want to see me."

"Why would she-" Azriel stops, and as usual, unsurprisingly, he connects the dots faster than anyone else would. Cassian furrows his brow at the contemplative look Azriel gives me. "The female you walked home last month- that's her?"

"The one with the boyfriend Rhys nearly killed?" Cassian scoffed, clearly remembering how furious I had been that night, how it had taken so much restraint and the both of them on guard to stop me from flying out to rip that bastard's head off. "Cauldron, I haven't seen you lose control like that in years."

"He was lucky- if the two of you hadn't stopped me and she hadn't begged me to leave it alone-" I grit my teeth, trying to extinguish the raw, scorching wrath still burning in my chest. My dark eyes turn to look at her, and as I take in her breathtaking smile, my chest tightens with the memory of that night.

The sound of her broken sobs, the way those bright eyes had shattered, filling with endless tears, how she had curled into herself, wilting like a dying flower- all because of him.

"Easy, Rhys, he isn't even here," Cassian cautions and I swallow thickly at the familiar feeling of the beast inside me rearing its head, the kind of violence and danger in me that only arose during the biggest threats, during the worst battles and now, in defence of her. "I've never seen you like this before."

"I know," I sigh, my eyes shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose, the tension in my body almost suffocating as I'm bombarded with the thoughts of that night, with the thoughts of her. "Fuck, I know."

"Go talk to her, Rhys, for your own sake at the very least," Azriel muses softly, and I can hear the unspoken words in his hazel eyes, the kind that told me to be happy, to stop putting everyone first and think of myself. "You never know what could happen, brother."

I inhale deeply, the strength of my brother's stares weighing heavy on me and yet again, my violet gaze drifts over to her and this time I don't ignore the magnetic force that pulls me in.

***

"Another drink, Y/N?" Lin smiles, her slim waist curving as she turns her long legs towards the bar, a sparkle in her eyes as she glances from the bartender back to me. "I know I need another one."

"You don't need to ply me with alcohol, Lin," I muse, cocking my head at her and she shrugs nonchalantly at my knowing smile, an innocent pout gracing her red lips. "I'm having fun, I promise."

"Are you though? It's been a long month and I just-" Lin sighs, her manicured nails coming forward and curling around my hand, settling our hold against one of my plush thighs. I smile at the worry creasing her brow, dimming the radiance in her eyes as she stares at me, "I just want you to be happy, Y/N."

"I am happy, Lin," I scoff, ignoring the ache in my chest, duller than it had been a week ago and yet still an ever-suffocating presence that loomed over me like a dark cloud. "But you know what you could do to make me even happier?"

"Tell me," She leans forward, her lovely face melting into an even lovelier smile, and her hand tightens around mine, an anchor that I'm glad for. "I'll do anything."

"Well, you can go and talk to that ridiculously tall and attractive male who's been ogling you for the last two hours," I drawl sarcastically, taking a pointed sip of my drink as she glances over her shoulder, her blonde hair bouncing as she locks eyes with him. "Don't think I didn't notice the two of you eye fucking from across the room."

She giggles, a purely feminine sound and I smirk at the way the male watches her, his blue eyes darkening into storm clouds, raking down her toned and slender figure like he could see through her clothes and Lin grinned like she knew it.

"But this is meant to be a girl's day, me and you and endless drinking until we're vomiting and regretting it desperately tomorrow," Lin groans and my shoulders sag at the conflict in her eyes- the pity. She didn't want to abandon me, and I hated it.

"I think I've had my fair share of drinks tonight; I'll probably head home soon-" I gnaw on my lip, already seeing the protest in her eyes, but when I raise a brow, glancing at that male again, she sighs, "Go, have wild sex with a hot stranger and then tell me all about it tomorrow."

I can see the anticipation in her body, and I force down the teasing remarks dying to come out as I take a sip of my drink, the burn as it slides down my throat distracting me from my own infinite loneliness.

"Or you could go find a hot male and have some wild sex of your own?" Lin giggles, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at me but I roll my eyes, slapping her hand and trying to usher her from her seat. "Fine, fine, but are you sure-"

Lin pauses, the words dying out on her lips and under the fluorescent lights her tan skin goes pale, her eyes widening in surprise as she glances, not at me, but past me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I laugh, my brows furrowing as Lin's eyes turn back to me and the smile that tugs at her lips is odd- knowing, giddy almost. "Lin, what-"

"I'm fine, incredible even, and you're about to be too, I think," She bites her lip, giggling as she lifts from her stool and onto her platform heels, her eyes shining like stars as she slowly backs away. "Have fun, Y/N."

"Okay, you too," I say slowly, half-laughing, half-confused as Lin saunters away, her hips swaying as she moves toward that expecting male. His eyes meet hers and the tension goes taut between them. "Don't drink anything he gives you!"

I laugh quietly to myself as I turn away from her, tucking my legs under the bar and shaking my head at her bizarre behaviour- it seemed Lin was more of a lightweight than I thought.

"Hello darling," A smooth, deep voice, like melted chocolate, greets me from behind and my body shivers at the easy sound, "Is this seat taken?"

"No, it's available, this one too I'm just about to leave-" The placated smile on my lips turns to a surprised 'o' as I toss my hair over a shoulder, my bright eyes lifting- and meeting with a constellation of violet.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court- and the male who had been there when I was at my lowest.

"High- High Lord," I stutter, my eyes widening and it's as if his presence spurs something deep in my chest and it has me shifting to sit straighter, my head angling up to meet his captivating gaze. "These seats are available-"

"Please, it's Rhys," He smiled, and I smelt the sweet aroma of night-blooming Jasmine and ocean breeze as he pulled out the chair beside me, his long, toned body elegantly taking a seat inches from me.

"Right, Rhys," I breathe softly, remembering how he had said the same thing that night. Though his eyes held more softness now, unlike that night no violence or death was gleaming in them.

"Can I get a bourbon on the rocks," I watch his handsome face glance at the bartender, and I can't help but run my gaze over him- the silken raven locks effortlessly tousled, the strong bridge of his nose, the tilt of his lazy smile, how he leaned back against the chair, his powerful form at ease.

"And another of what the lovely lady beside me is having."

My eyes snap back up to his at the words, and my cheeks burn at the sparkle in his eyes. The kind that told me he knew I was looking over every inch of him, and that I, like most females, liked what I saw.

"You'll stick around for one drink, I hope?" He questions, and my heart pounded in my chest as he leaned closer, his legs brushing mine and I felt the electricity of his touch lance through my entire body. "I could do with the company, darling."

Darling. The nickname made my stomach flip, the way it rolled off his tongue made it sound so erotic, sensual like he knew he could pleasure a female with just his words.

"One drink," I nod, swallowing thickly as the bartender places Rhysand's glass of Bourbon and my wine before us with a soft clink. "I suppose it's the least I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything, I hope you know that" His voice softens, his eyes do too, and I know he's picturing me as I was that night. Crying. Shaking. A mess. His throat bobs, ringed finger tracing the rim of his untouched glass.

"I know, but I want to," I manage a small smile and the heat of his eyes on me, I feel it over every inch of my skin. Not purely sexual but seeing, like he couldn't take his eyes off me. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for what you did that night, I really am grateful for you helping me-"

"Please don't," Rhysand frowns, and his body is stiff now. All the warmth, all the teasing, has vanished from his eyes. Replaced by one thing- sadness. "Don't make me out to be some kind of hero for that night, Y/N. Anyone would have done the same-"

"And yet you were the only one who intervened," I scoffed, and his face tightened. The violet turned dark like midnight. "So many people passed us, so many people saw him grabbing me, heard how he was speaking to me. They saw me crying, heard me say no-"

My back hit the wall. Arms caged me in.

'You're nothing but a worthless fucking slut.'

'No, no, please, don't,' I felt the side of my dress tear open, the cold wind prickling my skin.

'A fat bitch who never listens,' I could taste metal in my mouth, his hand clamped down on my jaw, pinning me down. 'A fucking tease, wearing this dress and then telling me no when I want to touch what's mine.'

'Please, you're hurting me,' He laughed as I sobbed, groping along my body, the smell of alcohol on his breath making bile rise up my throat.

I heard the sound of a belt unbuckling.

'Someone please help me.'

"Y/N," His voice was hoarse as he spoke my name, pained. And when he laid one of his large, ringed hands against my knee, fingers curling around my flesh, I released a tight, desperate breath.

"You saved me that night, you and no one else," I blinked away the burning tears and locked my gaze with his. Power thrummed from him in waves, and the shadows in his eyes told me he remembered that night as well as I did, that it haunted him too.

"Perhaps you're too humble to think so," I cleared the lump in my throat, throwing Rhysand a teasing smile, or as much of one as I could manage. "But as far as I am concerned you were my hero that night, Rhys."

"I don't think humble is the word my family would use to describe me, darling," Rhys's lip quirked, and I knew he slipped into a mask of charm and playfulness for my sake. It made the ache in my chest ease. "I think the words they would use are more along the lines of arrogant, cocky, smug-"

"Charming, charismatic, flirtatious," I continued with a sly grin, and as I brought my glass to my mouth, Rhysand watched every movement keenly, shadows eclipsing his eyes as my lips parted and I sipped. "Clever, witty, swaggering."

"Careful, darling," His eyes flashed when my tongue flicked out to collect the droplets of wine off my bottom lip and I nearly purred when his fingers curled around my knee tighter. "You're inflating my already massive ego."

"I'm not done," I mutter softly, setting the glass before me again. Rhysand raises a brow, and his chest is rising and falling so harshly now. "Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive."

His eyes twinkled like a thousand stars bursting to life and I knew he could hear how my heart was thundering in my chest.

"I fear you've got us confused," He breathed, and my entire body felt alight as he swooped his thumb back and forth against my thigh, his touch so consuming it was as if he were touching my bare skin. His lip quirked as if he knew it. "Those are words that describe you, not me."

I scoffed out a laugh, rolling my eyes but I couldn't deny the way his words made me feel. The way he made me feel. Tracing over my bright eyes and beaming smile, down my neck and chest, across my stomach and hips and thighs, his power thrummed as he took me in.

"Did you come here alone tonight?" I angled my head at him, feeling hot under his stare. Again, his thumb didn't stop soothing against me, so soft I was starting to get dizzy.

"I came with Cassian and Azriel," Rhysand nodded over his shoulder, "It was actually them who encouraged me to come speak to you."

"Encouraged you?" I raised a brow, surprised and the chuckle that escaped him ran over my skin. "What happened to arrogant, cocky, smug Rhysand?"

"Apparently as Cassian put it, I became the creep who was staring relentlessly at a beautiful female for hours," Rhys drawled, and a surprised laugh burst from me at his words. He rolled his violet eyes, but I swear under these lights, I could see a tint of red staining his cheeks.

The High Lord of the Night Court.

The most powerful High Lord in existence.

Blushing.

"You're laughing at me?" Rhysand cocked a brow, hand coming to his chest in faux offence, " I've been mocked by my brothers and now by the female, I like. I'm wounded darling, truly."

The female I like.

Cauldron.

"Poor High Lord," I pouted, my delicate hand coming down and resting over his at my knee. I shivered at the feeling of his skin against mine, and his eyes flashed down to where we touched. "It seems you can't catch a break tonight."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it's been a total loss," He mused lowly, his eyes lingered on our hands, on how much smaller mine was compared to his before they lifted to meet my gaze. Shadows and stars. Utterly consuming. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"And I'm here with you," I smiled, and it was the most genuine smile I've had in a while. Rhysand's eyes softened as if he knew it too. As if he could feel my content right now as strongly as I could.

But it wasn't just content. As I stared at him, at this beautiful, powerful, captivating male before me, I couldn't deny the ache that spread through my core. Couldn't ignore how just his hand at my knee made my thighs clench.

His eyes fell to where my legs clamped shut and something wholly dark filled his gaze, something that made it impossible to hide my arousal. His throat worked, and I knew he could smell exactly what my body wanted.

"Would Cassian and Azriel mind if I stole you for the night?" I asked, soft, breathless, I couldn't get the words louder than a whisper. Because I was afraid- of rejection, of embarrassment, of saying it aloud.

But he heard me. I knew he did.

I saw the muscles in his thighs tense, his whole body turning hard as stone. Even that hand at my thigh seemed to turn stiff. His eyes met mine, his mouth parting- and then closing. Like he didn't know what to say.

"Oh," I forced out a strained laugh, humiliation burning through me as I sat up, pulling my thigh from Rhysand's hold and frantically looking anywhere but at him. "It seems I've read this whole situation wrong."

He didn't want me.

He was just being kind.

He was just trying to make sure I was okay.

Of course, he didn't want me.

"No, no, don't-" His voice was sure, strong. As I reached to grab my purse, his hand curled around my wrist, gentle but firm, keeping me sat where I was. I clamped my eyes shut, twisting my face so that I did not have to face him. "You did not read this wrong at all, not at all Y/N."

"Rhysand, it's alright," I mumbled, trying to pull my hand free from his hold, but he wouldn't relent. I heard his body shift until his thighs were pressed to mine and I knew he was inched from me. "You don't have to say anything, I understand-"

"No, you don't darling," He snarled softly, and my body shook when his hand came to my chin and turned my face to his. I blinked, barely breathing as I met his burning violet eyes so close to mine. "I can hear those thoughts running through your mind right now. Stop, stop and don't even dare think that for a second again."

His thumb brushed my cheek, and I couldn't breathe with how close he was to me. So close I could smell the bourbon and mint with every breath against my mouth, so close I could count the stars in his eyes.

"I would like nothing more than for you to steal me away tonight, to steal me away every night," He admitted, his voice stern and commanding. "Some very selfish, greedy, dark part of me has been staring at you all night picturing exactly that. Picturing just how we would spend those hours."

Low, sultry words that made my heart race.

"But?" I whispered, my voice shaking. My whole body was shaking now.

"But I do not want you to see me as a hero, to see me as some kind of saviour," His words were unsteady, pained and I hated the frown that tilted his lips. wanted to soothe out the furrow in his brow. "I don't want you to think you owe me this. I want you to want to."

I swallowed and melted into the touch, the callouses of his fingers at my face making me sigh. My hand curled around his wrist, strong and sure, and I met his eyes with certainty.

"I do want to," I said, louder this time, "You do not want to be a hero, fine. But I do not want to be a victim, Rhys. Don't try and make me one."

Surprise flashed in his eyes. And something else. Something akin to fire, like my words lit a blaze in him.

"Cassian and Azriel definitely will not mind you stealing me away tonight," He rasped, voice like gravel and my body shivered at the smirk he gave me. "Let me grab your purse for you, darling."

***

Walking back to my apartment with Rhys, it was hard not to remember that night.

How different it had been.

How I had been shaking and crying, wrapped in a blanket to cover the exposed skin revealed under the tatters of my dress. How Rhysand had been violently still, his eyes so black it was as if a void had sucked away all the stars in them.

And how that awful, pulsing black magic had coiled around his hands. The same black magic that had wrapped around that male's throat, that had ripped him off of me, dropped him to his knees and squeezed the air from his lungs until he turned purple.

I remember seeing Rhysand appear in a cloud of black smoke, looking like death itself.

My head spun with how he had looked at me as he guided me home, walking trembling step after step, and something so pained, so agonised had filled his gaze. I knew it was me and me alone that kept him from killing that male, it was his need to take care of me first that had quelled the unparalleled desire he had to destroy him.

And now, a whole month later, as we walked under the sheet of stars and moonlight above, I couldn't help how my stomach coiled, a mixture of nerves and excitement dancing through me.

"I'm sure it's not the kind of luxury you're used to," I smiled, turning the handle of my front door, and pushing it open to reveal the dark expanse beyond. "But this is it. Home."

The Fae lights in my living room flickered on, dousing the small space. I stepped inside, Rhysand's tall form ducking under my doorway as he entered. I couldn't help but glance to and from his face as I locked the door behind us, watching him take in my home.

It felt intimate somehow. Him being here.

"It's lovely," Rhys smiled, violet eyes bright as he took in the simple leather couch and oak table, the shelves full of books and ornaments. He glanced forward, to the kitchen attacked to the side, drink bottles littering the island.

"I don't really bring people back here, males I mean," I laughed awkwardly, my stilettos clicking against the floor as I led Rhys further into my house. "My roommate, Lin, usually has people, males and females alike over all the time."

"I'm honoured to be here, then," I stopped at the kitchen island, dropping my purse on the table. My eyes met his, saw them darken as a smirk lined his lips "And selfishly, I'm glad that you don't bring males back here."

"Why?" I breathed, my chest rising and falling in waves as he inched closer to me. Stopping close enough that my taut nipples brushed his hard chest. "Feeling possessive? I didn't think High Lord Rhysand was the jealous type."

"Oh darling, I am the jealous type. The possessive type too," He murmured, and my eyes fluttered when his hands fell to my hips, pulling me flush to his chest and kneading the flesh there. "Because when you're mine, you're only mine."

"And am I?" I tilted my head to meet his eyes and the look in my gaze made his fingers tighten at my hips. "Yours?"

"Yes, if you would like to be," His voice turned quiet, sincere. I smiled at it, at the softness in his eyes. "I would like you to be."

"I would like to be too," My hand came up and cupped his strong jaw, loving how he melted into the touch. "Especially tonight. Kiss me Rhys."

He groans like I'm going to be the death of him. And then his head is dipping, and those sweet, pink lips collide with mine.

Cauldron, I knew he could kiss. But this was better than I could have hoped for.

My back hits the island as Rhys claims me, lips moving slow and steady against mine, strong hands keeping me in place. My mind spins as he kisses me, working me through every lap of his tongue teasing mine, one hand moving to tilt my chin, before resting at my throat.

The marble at my back digs painfully, but I don't care, not as Rhys slips his tongue past my lips, wet and hot and exploring. He groans at the taste of wine in my mouth, and my pussy clenches around nothing at the heady sound.

"Rhys," I whimper at the feeling of his long, hard cock straining in his pants, and pulsing against my stomach. He kisses and nips at my jaw, and I can't help but rub against him, loving how he shudders.

"Darling, I suggest you stop doing that," He snarls softly, canines scraping my neck and his hands clamp down, halting my movement. "Unless you want me to bend you over this island and fuck you raw right now."

I moan at his filthy words, back arching when his hands shift down to cup and fondle my ass. He laughs, sinister and low, violet eyes flashing to mine and brightening.

"Dirty girl, you'd like that wouldn't you?" He muses, smirking as he kneads my ass, rings digging into me. "Perhaps another night. Tonight though, I'd prefer to be a gentleman and take you for the first time on a bed."

"I happen to have a great bed," I whisper, my hands on his chest, pushing at the corded muscle. He chuckles again, mocking me, but he does relent, pulling me along with him. "First door on the right."

"First you let me into your home, now your bedroom," Rhysand smirks at me over his shoulder, his large hand interlaced with my small one. My stomach tilts and whirls as he pushes open my door. "It must be my lucky night."

"Arrogant, cocky, and smug indeed," I roll my eyes, seeing his smile brighten when the lights in my room flicker to life. Before I knew it, we were inside, the door closed and locked behind us. Alone.

He must sense my unease because he turns on his heel, his face serene as he glances over my small room. The double-sized bed, the pink cotton sheets, the small dresser and cabinet and more shelves stuffed full of books.

"You like to read?" He muses, walking over to the bookshelves and running a long, slender finger across their spines. My breasts ached at the thought of him touching me with those hands. His eyes peered over a shoulder at me- dark like he had heard that thought.

"Yes," I managed to say, throat dry as I fiddled with my thumbs. "I was big on fairy tales as I kid. Now I like more... adult stuff."

"Adult?" Rhysand's brow rose and every inch of me was molten as he turned around to face me, leaning against my draw with his arms tucked into his slacks and his powerful body at ease. "Adult-like romance or adult-like females being pleasured six ways to Sunday?"

I burst out laughing at that and Rhysand's smile grew, broad and lovely at the sound. He made it so easy to be around him, made it so easy that the anxiety in my chest faded into nothing.

"The second," I said quietly, and the air turned still as I moved toward him, taking step after slow step. "Though I'm yet to experience it myself. Being pleasured six ways to Sunday as you so eloquently put it."

I stop before him. I place one hand on his hard chest, feeling his heart racing under my palms. And then I glance up, fluttering my dark lashes and praying this looks sexy and not creepy.

Again, he laughs.

"Allow me to remedy that for you, darling," He grins and when his hand cups my jaw, I let myself go slack against him. His lips against mine are heaven, I could kiss this male for the rest of my fucking life. He kissed me back like he shared that sentiment.

I stumble back with him, our teeth clashing and lips bruising as we kiss and my hands touch him everywhere- through his dark, silken hair tugging at the roots, scratching down his neck and broad shoulders, feeling his muscles ripple under my fingers as I claw at him.

My legs bump against the bed but instead of pushing me down, his hands move to my dress. To the ties at the back. He pauses, panting as he pulls his lips from mine. I groan at the loss of contact, nibbling on his teeth as he draws away. But he peers at me, and I can see all the questions in his eyes.

For a second, I feel different hands touch me. Vile and degrading and horrible, all over my body. I smell bitter alcohol, invading my senses, and it's almost as if I can feel the wind piercing through the rips in my dress just like it did that night.

But then I blink. And It's Rhys again. With that lovely smile and those kind eyes. With those exploring, gentle hands and those lips that taste like sin. It's Rhys. And he wants me.

"May I?" He mutters, brushing his lips across mine in the barest kiss. I sigh when his fingers rest on the knots at the back. If I gave him the word to stop, he would, no questions asked. That was exactly why I didn't want him to stop.

"Yes," I said, and my voice did not so much as shake. I met his eyes and showed him how I felt, how badly I wanted him and nodded again. "Yes, please."

Rhys smiled and his eyes never left mine as he tugged the strings at the back of my dress, something akin to adoration blazing in his eyes as it all came loose. I braced myself as his gentle hands tugged down the material, letting it fall down my body and to the floor.

I was in nothing but my underwear now.

Rhys didn't look down. His eyes stayed on me. My throat bobbed, but I nodded to him again.

It was palpable, the shift in his eyes the second they lowered from my face. Down, down, down. Over my bare aching breasts, over my perked nipples, across my stomach and hips, over all the fat there, and down my thighs, dipping between them as I clenched them shut.

Desire. I felt it vibrating off him in waves. Like he truly thought I was beautiful.

"I hate the doubt in your eyes right now, in your mind," He said softly, and my body shivered when he trailed one finger across my collarbone, and down my chest. "I hate that you can't see how perfect you are, how fucking perfect your body is."

I shivered as he traced his fingers over my taut nipple, a moan slipping past my lips at the feel of his callouses against me.

“It’s not easy for me to feel like that,” I whispered, my voice shaking as he cupped my breasts, pinching the nipple and letting the weight and feel of them fill his hands. “But it’s easier right now. With you, it’s easier to believe.”

Something shifted in Rhysand’s eyes at my words. It was almost emotional, like what I said meant more to him than I could ever know. I lifted onto my tiptoes and pressed a slow, exploring kiss against his lips. It was the kind that I had read about books, that I had dreamed about, his lips moved against mine and felt right.

His hands are sure as he guides me down to sit on the bed and not for a moment does he break his lips free from mine. Rhysand’s hands explore my body, kneading my flesh as he kisses and suckles down my neck, my moans mixing with the wet sound of his mouth against my skin.

I’m not sure I’m breathing as he runs his hands along my hips and thighs, mouth smearing spit and scraping teeth against my breasts. His fingers hook under my underwear and within seconds it’s tugged down my legs and tossed to the floor.

I flutter open my eyes and something molten spreads through me.

Because Rhysand was on his knees before me. And it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

“Do you like me this, darling?” He muses, purely male satisfaction on his face as he drags my supple thighs apart. His eyes drop between my legs, to the swollen wetness there and he moans. “High Lord of the Night Court, bowed before the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen.”

I feel like I might climax just from his words. Just from how fucking feral he looks as he takes in my wetness, his hands at my thighs bruising as he keeps my legs apart.

I rest back on my hands, my arms shaking as Rhysand’s smug face inches closer and closer to the apex of my thighs, the violet in his gaze almost as dark as midnight as my arousal fills the air. I’m burning hot, everywhere and the anticipation is killing me.

But mercifully Rhys is no tease. He doesn’t have the patience for it tonight.

“Rhys,” I moan, my toes curling when his head dips between my thighs and he licked a broad stroke up the length of my cunt. Taking all the wetness from my entrance and smearing it up to my swollen clit. He does it again, growling, and I can hear how wet I am.

“Relax, darling,” Rhys murmurs and I gasp in surprise when his hands hook under my thighs, tugging me to the edge of the bed- and then he goes feral.

“Cauldron, oh my- Rhys,” My body is shaking as Rhys tastes me, his tongue flicking over my bundle of nerves again and again, so hard and fast I can feel the pleasure down to my toes. He groans as he does so, the sound vibrating through my core and making my head spin.

My eyes close, my arms give out and I’m lying on my back, arching against my sheets, Rhys holding my thighs and hips like a boulder. He doesn’t relent even as my cries grow erratic, his tongue slipping down to fuck into my hole, hot and warm and knowing exactly what he’s doing.

One finger slips in. and then another. And another.

Three fingers and I’m clamped around him like a vice, his fingers fucking into me, his tongue suckling at my clit, my moans, his moans- it was dancing through the room like a symphony. It feels like minutes before that pit in me starts to grow and I know I won’t last long; I don’t want to last long.

“Rhys, please-“ I don’t know what I’m begging for. But he does, he knows what I need. Because his lips close around my clit and those long, graceful fingers curl up into a deep, spongey spot inside me, hitting a button that makes me scream.

Searing hot light burns through me and I can feel Rhys grinning against my cunt as my orgasm hits me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I cry his name again and again, my body on fire as he buries his fingers inside me, still sucking and nibbling on my clit. Dragging out every last inch of my climax.

“Rhys, Rhys-“

He chuckles, like a smug bastard, lips plucking back from my swollen clit and those three fingers slipping out of my pulsing hole. I shudder, sweat coating my skin and when he finally unhooks his arms from my legs, I sag to the bed, panting.

My eyes are closed and all I can do is catch my breath as tendrils of my orgasm coil through me, disappearing inch by inch.

The bed dips around me and I feel the familiar power and warmth as Rhysand ascends over me, two hands braced on either side of my head, my thighs wrapping around his waist. I blink my eyes open, seeing a constellation above, and the sweetest smile.

“Hello, darling,” Rhys smirks and I chuckle as I take in the pleased expression he wore, loving me so strung. He lifts one hand, brushing the damp hair from my face and I croon when he runs the pad of his thumb over my mouth. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” I say immediately. Something almost terrifying drapes across his face as I take his thumb past my lips and into my mouth, twirling my tongue around the digit and staring into his eyes. He plucks it free, looking like he could devour me. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive.” Rhys muttered, voice like gravel and my entire body purred when he knelt back on my bed and began to undo his shirt. “Definitely the words to describe you, Y/N darling.”

I stay silent as I watch him easily undo one button at a time, the graceful movements of his fingers almost sensual as more and more skin, covered with dark whorls is revealed to me. I’m breathless as he tugs off the material throwing it off the bed, captivated by the lean, hard muscle, and the slender dip of a v-line at his waist.

He grins down at me as my hands come up to his chest, muscles flexing as I claw down his pecs, teasing his nipples, scratching his abs, tracing the faint dusting of hair all the way down to his slacks. His eyes burn into me as I fiddle with the ties, tugging the front of his slacks loose to free his length straining inside.

I undo the last button and my pussy clenches as his cock springs free, slapping back against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. Long and thick, veined and tan, small beads of pre-cum slipping down the head and dropping onto my thigh.

Not sure I’ve ever had a female tell me my cock is pretty before, darling.

The sound echoes through my mind and I jolt at it, surprised. My eyes meet his, see them twinkling and every atom in me throbs when his hands wrap around his length, and he pumps himself. I whimper, his eyes on mine watching me fall apart at the sight of touching himself.

Fuck me, Rhys.

I send the thought out to him through my mind, not knowing how it works but hoping he would get the message anyway. He did- I could tell just by how hard he fisted himself now, his pre-cum spilling down his hand as he stroked up and down.

You need it, darling? Need me? He teased through my mind, so arrogant it made me scowl at him.

Yes, asshole. I hissed, and he laughed aloud, eyes bright with amusement. I need you, fuck me, please.

He groans and I’m grinning as he leans forward, bracing his palms on either side of me, his powerful body atop of me now. I felt small under him, felt like I was completely at his mercy and that feeling seemed to make me even more wet.

“Wrap your leg around my hip, darling,” Rhys said softly, and I was more than eager when he guided my thigh up, wrapping it around him, fingers splaying over my flesh. “Wanna get as deep as I can into this sweet pussy.”

“Rhys,” I whined, my eyes fluttering as he dragged his tip through my folds, the pressure against my swollen lips and sore clit making me feel like I might explode. “Rhys- please-“

He slips his tip into me. And my eyes roll as he sinks and sinks and sinks into me. Inch after perfect inch. Stretching me so fucking wide that my head starts to spin. He stops when his hips meet mine, maxing out and I swear I feel the shape of him imprinted against my stomach.

“Fuck, you’re wrapped around me so tight,” Rhys curses and his fingers tighten around my flesh. I tilt my neck up when his lips meet mine, desperate and needy for the feel of him, the taste of him, as the pain between my legs slowly eases to mild discomfort.

“Move Rhys,” I claw up his chest and shoulders, burying my fingers in his hair.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters, groaning as he slowly pulls his length out, my wetness making it so easy for him to move. I moan at the tendrils of pleasure that spark through me as he drags himself out and then in, again and again, barely moving.

“I can handle it, Rhys,” I force his eyes to meet mine and I know he’s holding himself back. For my sake. I roll my hips, and the moan that escapes him as he slips in deeper makes my toes curl. “Move, Rhys.”

Rhys snarls low in his throat. And then he pulls out to the tip before shoving his cock inside me in one full stroke until his hips slam against mine. I cry out and it’s almost euphoric how good it feels.

“That’s it,” He praises, jaw clenched and muscles hard as stone as he rolls his hips into me, hard and fast, tip brushing against my walls in a way that makes me endlessly moan. “Feel how good you fit around me, darling.”

I whine at the filthy words he snarls into my ear, canines nibbling at my earlobe as he fucks in and out of me. He lifts my leg higher up his waist and our moans sync when he sinks into me, so far, I can feel him hitting the back of me.

“Oh Rhys,” I cry his name again and again, his cock inside me feeling so full, every stroke stealing the breath from my lungs.

He ruts his hips up to meet me, the sound of him fucking in and out of me, so wild and demanding, is like music in the room, mixing with our moans, our low curses, and the way our hands wander over each other, unable to get enough.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Rhys commands, and I gasp, eyes fluttering open when his hand clamps around my jaw, tilting my neck to meet him. I see the darkness and depravity and need burning like fire through his eyes. Watching my face twist, my eyes roll as he fucks me, skin slapping skin.

“I’m so close, Rhys-“ I babble, back arching and my hand curls around his wrist still holding my jaw. My insides feel like mush as he hits that button inside me again and again. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah? You gonna come, darling?” He taunts, and I nearly start sobbing when his hand moves from my thigh, between our bodies and starts rubbing erratically at my clit. He laughs, like he fucking loves it, loves seeing me fall apart, “That’s it, come for your High Lord. Wanna feel you milk me dry.”

There’s something so commanding, so burning and domineering in his words, in those star-flecked eyes that when he dives his hips into me again, when his thumb flicks at my clit, my entire body erupts with my orgasm.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys-“

I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body bucking and writhing against his hard muscles as release ripples over me like a tidal wave. Rhysand grunts as I clench around him, suffocating his cock inside me, the orgasm hitting me and lasting longer than I’ve ever had.

“Just like that,” He pants, and I feel his movements become sloppier, more erratic, more careless, driven to the edge by me coming around him.

My body trembles with the aftermath of my orgasm, edged on by the way Rhys still moved in and out of me, chasing his own high. And when his forehead rests against mine and he groans, guttural and heady and low, I know he’s found it.

My eyes blink open, desperate to watch him fall apart. And it doesn’t disappoint.

I watch, breathless, as Rhysand tips his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat and the sound that escapes him, the guttural moan, as he stills inside me has the walls of my room shaking. Pure, unfiltered power radiates from him and my pussy throbs as he spills inside me, hot and wet and endless.

I can’t tear my eyes off him as his orgasm fades and I’m smiling as he sags against my body, the both of us sweating and panting, melting into the other’s embrace.

He stays seated inside me and wraps his arms around my body, sinking into my warmth and softness and looking more than content. He sighs, pressing a kiss to my lips, once, twice, a smile curling his lips when I giggle.

“Darling,” Rhys whispers, his eyes tender as he lifts onto his elbow to meet my stare, “I meant what I said before. I want you to be mine. And not just tonight.”

There’s an ache behind my eyes as he stares at me, looking at me with so much adoration, so much love that I feel like he’s wrapped a hand around my heart and squeezed.

“I want that too,” I whisper back, cupping his jaw. He presses a kiss to the inside of my palm, grinning.

“As a gentleman, I should ask then,” He teases, inching his face closer to mine and resting his forehead against me. “Will you go out with me?”

I snort, eyes creasing as I laugh and Rhys beams at me, peppering kisses at my jaw and lips as I giggle.

“Yes, Rhys,” I say softly, drowning in those wonderful, tender, violet eyes. “I would love to go out with you.”

__________________________________________________

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[asmolbirb]

“Did you know,” Laurence muses, once they’ve retired to the library, and the port has been poured, and they’re both poring over their respective correspondence, which they might focus on wholly were the conversation to dwindle, as it often does in the ease of these evenings. “—Did you know, today marks half a century—since my birth.”

Tharkay’s gaze flickers up; returns to the letter in his hands.

“I find myself reflecting,” continues Laurence, his eyes trained on the parchment in his own grasp, though the ink upon it refuses to coalesce into words, “that I have spent longer as an aviator than as a man of the navy.”

“In a sense only,” rebukes Tharkay, albeit mildly. “The Aerial Corps has had no claim to you for quite some time; nor has Temeraire answered to any formation, or the whims of any but himself. Notwithstanding, perhaps—“ this, an afterthought— “those whims of Parliament, mercurial as they are.”

Laurence hums, distracted. His next words have to fight through a sudden reluctance: “It would gall the child I once was, to know who I’d become.” And then, in a rush, “Yet I cannot regret it. Any of it: for in turn I gained a clarity of understanding that would have been inaccessible to me otherwise.”

Tharkay says nothing, only waits for Laurence to continue, and to reach the core of the thing he’s grappling with.

“I find myself facing another score and some years stretching out ahead of me,” Laurence says finally, “and the inevitability of some new revelation which must await, poised to cleave my understanding of the world in twain once more. I rather fear I could not bear it. I fear I am grown too old, too accustomed to my daily rituals and comforts, to again perform that reconstruction of my paradigm of reality which I undertook upon meeting Temeraire, and upon meeting you.”

Again Tharkay meets these words with silence; but when it becomes clear no more is forthcoming, he says gently, “I can well imagine how the myriad affronts to your morals which you faced in the War have embittered you toward complacency. Yet I am of the belief that predicting, even with utmost accuracy, the shape of tomorrow will not in the least stop it from coming.” He sets his correspondence aside and stretches a hand out to Laurence. “Come, Will,” he murmurs. “It is late, and the world has a tendency to cloak itself in sinister shadows at this hour. Let us retire; let any new revelations meet us in the light of day, where they may be thoroughly examined— where we may formulate an adequate response together.”

For a moment, Laurence’s instincts scream in protest: a lifetime of being relied upon to meet any obstacle with confidence and immediacy is not so easily sloughed off the shoulders. But Tharkay is right. The challenges of tomorrow will demand to be met whether or not Laurence successfully anticipates them tonight; and meanwhile, Tharkay’s hand stretches out before him, more tangible than any of the years he has yet to live, any obstacle he is yet to encounter. With a sharp exhale, Laurence stands, and places his hand in Tharkay’s, and lets Tharkay pull him to bed.

[mintyys-blog]

(Steve rogers) x dark! reader x Bucky barnes: Caught in the Dark

WARNINGS: stalking, harassment, fake relationships, sexual themes

The apartment was dark, save for the dim glow of streetlights seeping through the blinds. You moved through the shadows with practiced ease, gloved fingers ghosting over the edge of the kitchen counter as you listened for any sound beyond the quiet hum of the refrigerator. Steve was gone—off on another mission, leaving his home vulnerable to anyone willing to cross that line.

And you had always been more than willing.

You had been in his apartment before, of course. Slipping in and out undetected, indulging in the intimacy of existing in his space without him ever knowing. Running your fingers over his neatly folded shirts, inhaling the lingering scent of aftershave in his bathroom, standing in front of his bookshelves and tracing the spines of titles he never mentioned but kept nonetheless.

Tonight was supposed to be no different.

Except the soft click of claws against hardwood made you freeze.

Steve didn’t have a cat.

Your pulse spiked as you turned, eyes adjusting to the darkness. A dog—a golden retriever—sat near the couch, staring at you with curiosity rather than alarm. Your mind worked quickly. You hadn’t accounted for this. Steve had never mentioned having a dog, which meant…

A sound. The unmistakable shift of movement from deeper inside the apartment.

You weren’t alone.

The realization sent a sharp thrill down your spine, an eerie blend of excitement and caution. You had been careful, meticulous in your stalking, but something felt off.

And then, the voice came. Low, edged with suspicion.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

You turned slowly. The figure in the doorway was unmistakable—broad shoulders, an imposing stance, and the gleam of metal catching what little light the room offered.

Bucky Barnes.

He wasn’t supposed to be here either.

For the first time in a long time, you had made a mistake. And he had caught you.

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

Bucky was a predator, honed by years of war and violence, but you weren’t prey. No, you were something else entirely—something that lingered in the shadows, unseen and unnoticed, always watching. Until now.

His stare was heavy, assessing, his body tense like he was deciding whether to lunge or wait for you to make the first move.

“Who are you?” His voice was quiet but firm, a demand rather than a question.

You tilted your head slightly, the hint of a smile curling at your lips despite the fact that you were caught in a situation you hadn’t anticipated. “Funny,” you mused. “You’ve seen me before.”

His expression didn’t shift, but you caught the subtle flicker in his eyes. A recognition he hadn’t quite placed until now.

You had been careful. Always lingering at the edges, watching Steve from a distance, ensuring that you never stood out. But Bucky—he was different. He had seen you, even when Steve hadn’t.

He had noticed.

The dog, still seated near the couch, let out a soft whine, ears flicking between the two of you.

Bucky took a slow step forward. You didn’t flinch, didn’t shrink away. If anything, the anticipation in your chest coiled tighter.

“You’ve been following him,” he stated, voice flat.

You let out a quiet chuckle. “Following? That makes it sound so… sinister.”

His jaw ticked. “Breaking into his apartment isn’t exactly subtle.”

Fair point. But that was the thing about obsession—it made you reckless, made you want more, take more. Watching Steve from afar had stopped being enough a long time ago.

“I didn’t think anyone would be here,” you admitted, as if that was the problem. As if his presence, not the act of trespassing itself, was the only miscalculation.

Bucky’s stare sharpened. “You were hoping to have the place to yourself?”

A slow smile spread across your lips. “Something like that.”

His fingers twitched at his side. You wondered if he was debating whether to grab you, restrain you, or call Steve. Maybe all three. But there was something else in his gaze, something that made your pulse quicken.

Curiosity.

“You don’t seem scared,” he observed.

“Should I be?”

A muscle in his jaw tensed again. “Most people would be.”

“I’m not most people.”

The silence stretched between you, thick and charged. You were caught, but you weren’t running. That alone made something flicker in Bucky’s expression, something dark and intrigued.

“You don’t belong here,” he said eventually, voice quieter, like he was testing you.

You took a step closer, your movements slow, deliberate. “Neither do you.”

The tension in the room shifted, no longer just suspicion but something heavier, something almost… inviting.

You had spent so long watching Steve, memorizing his patterns, his habits, the way he carried himself like he carried the weight of the world. But Bucky? Bucky was a new variable, one you hadn’t accounted for.

And now?

Now, he was standing between you and what you wanted.

But maybe… just maybe, he was something you wanted too.

Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave you, but his stance shifted just slightly—weight balanced, ready for a fight if it came to that.

You weren’t planning on fighting him.

Not yet, at least.

The dog let out a quiet huff, tail thumping once against the floor before settling down completely, as if even he could sense the thick, charged air between you and Bucky.

“You got a name?” Bucky finally asked.

You hummed, considering. “I do.”

He exhaled through his nose, unamused. “You gonna tell me?”

“That depends,” you said, tilting your head. “Are you gonna tell Steve about this?”

The way his fingers twitched again told you he was debating it. He should. If he was any kind of friend, he would call Steve right now and tell him some stranger had been creeping around his apartment, watching him, sneaking in when he wasn’t home.

But he hadn’t reached for his phone yet.

Interesting.

“I don’t like games,” he muttered, taking another step forward.

“I think you do,” you countered smoothly. “Or you would’ve stopped me already.”

That made something flicker in his expression.

Because you were right.

Bucky Barnes was a soldier, a man who operated in absolutes. Threats were neutralized. Orders were followed. Problems were solved.

So why hadn’t he stopped you?

You took a step forward this time, and his eyes darkened just slightly, tracking every movement. You weren’t armed—not visibly, at least—but he knew better than to assume you weren’t dangerous.

“You noticed me before, didn’t you?” you murmured, voice low, almost amused. “Watching Steve.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

“And you never said anything.”

His eyes narrowed. “Noticed you, yeah. Didn’t trust you. Still don’t.”

“But you didn’t stop me,” you pointed out, taking another slow, careful step toward him. The distance between you was narrowing now. You could hear the slight hitch in his breath, the way his muscles coiled, ready to react. “Why is that, Bucky?”

The way his name rolled off your tongue made his lips press into a thin line.

You knew exactly why.

Because part of him had been just as curious about you as you had been about Steve.

Because part of him had already been watching you, too.

And now, here you were. Close enough that he could reach out and grab you. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension hanging thick in the air.

“You should leave,” he said, but there was something off about it. Something almost reluctant.

You smiled, slow and knowing. “But you don’t really want me to, do you?”

His metal fingers flexed at his side.

You had spent months watching Steve, memorizing his movements, his life, everything about him. But this… this was new.

And Bucky?

Bucky was something unexpected.

But not unwelcome.

Not at all.

Bucky moved first.

You saw the shift in his stance, the way his muscles tensed just a second before he lunged. Fast—too fast. But you were already turning, already anticipating the moment he decided to stop playing along and take action.

His hand caught your throat before you could slip away.

A sharp inhale—his grip was firm, not crushing, but enough to send a warning. Metal fingers pressed against your skin, cool against the heat of your pulse. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t cut off your air, but the message was clear.

You’re not going anywhere.

For the first time that night, Bucky wasn’t hesitating.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, voice quiet, but laced with something heavy.

Your hands flew up, fingers wrapping around his wrist. You could feel the strength coiled beneath his grip, the barely restrained power. He could snap your neck in an instant if he wanted to.

But he wouldn’t.

Not yet.

You met his stare, your breath steady despite the way your heart pounded. His eyes were sharp, narrowed in frustration, in something deeper, something almost primal.

Wrong move, Barnes.

You reached into your pocket, fingers curling around the small canister tucked away for emergencies.

And then, before he could react—

You pressed down.

A sharp hiss filled the air.

Bucky let out a harsh, surprised grunt as the spray hit him square in the eyes.

He released you immediately, stumbling back as his grip slipped from your throat. His hand flew to his face, cursing under his breath as his eyes clenched shut, water streaming from them.

You didn’t hesitate.

Spinning on your heel, you darted toward the door, moving fast, faster than you ever had before, ignoring the way your pulse pounded in your ears.

Behind you, Bucky let out a rough growl, his voice hoarse, furious.

“You—” He cut himself off, another curse slipping out as he wiped at his burning eyes.

You reached the door, your fingers closing around the knob.

Then, you glanced back—just for a second.

Bucky was still doubled over, blinking rapidly, face twisted in pain and rage. His chest heaved as he sucked in breath after breath, trying to regain control.

But even through the haze, even through the pain—

He was still watching you.

Even blinded, even furious, even caught off guard—he was still watching.

You smiled.

Then you were gone.

The camera lens focused, steady despite the way your pulse thrummed beneath your skin.

From your position in the dimly lit apartment across the street, you had the perfect view. The curtains in Steve’s bedroom weren’t fully drawn—just enough space for you to see inside. Just enough to watch.

And listen.

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile as you adjusted the volume in your earpiece, the soft static giving way to the unmistakable sound of her laughter.

Steve wasn’t alone tonight.

You had known the second she stepped inside his building. You had seen her before—some woman he had taken an interest in. Temporary. She would be gone soon enough. They always were.

But for now, she was in your place.

Your fingers clenched around the camera, even as you continued taking pictures. Frame by frame, you captured the way his hands moved over her, the way his lips ghosted along her throat, the way she looked so small beneath him.

Your breath came slow and steady, even as jealousy coiled tight in your stomach.

Steve had no idea.

No idea that weeks ago, you had slipped into his apartment and planted the tiniest bug in his bedroom, nestled beneath the edge of his nightstand. Hidden, undetectable.

And now, it was paying off.

His voice filtered through your earpiece, rough and deep, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice like gravel and honey. “So beautiful for me.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

He wasn’t speaking to her.

No—he was speaking to you.

It was your body beneath him.

It was your skin he was kissing.

Your lips parted as you let the sounds wash over you, the quiet moans, the deep groans, the rustle of sheets, the sharp hitch in his breath as he claimed what should have been yours.

You exhaled slowly, tilting your head, savoring the moment.

For now, he thought she was enough.

For now, he thought he was free.

But Steve would learn soon enough.

You were always watching.

The bar was dimly lit, the low hum of conversation blending with the steady bass of the music. You sat at the counter, a drink in hand, your gaze flicking to the far side of the room where Steve laughed with his friends, oblivious to your presence.

You had been here for over an hour, watching him.

Tracking every movement.

Not that he noticed.

But Bucky did.

You felt him before you saw him—the weight of his gaze pressing into your back, the way the hairs on your neck stood on end. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was there, standing just a few feet behind you, lingering in the shadows like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

Your fingers tightened around your glass.

Then, he moved.

A second later, he was beside you, sliding into the empty seat as if he belonged there, as if he hadn’t nearly choked on pepper spray the last time you saw him.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” Bucky murmured, his voice a low drawl.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t let your expression waver as you turned your head, giving him a slow, sweet smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Bucky didn’t smile back. His eyes were sharp, cutting through the façade you wore like a second skin.

“You following him again?” His voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the music. But you heard the steel in it.

You tilted your head innocently. “Who?”

His jaw ticked. “Don’t play games.”

You shrugged, taking a slow sip of your drink, feigning nonchalance. “I just came for a drink. Can’t a girl have a night out?”

Bucky let out a low exhale, like he was losing patience.

“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” he muttered, fingers flexing against the bar top. “So why don’t we cut the act?”

You set your glass down, eyes flicking to Steve for just a second before settling back on Bucky. “You really think you know me that well?”

His lips parted, like he was about to say something else—maybe another warning, maybe something darker—but then, he moved.

Fast.

Too fast for you to react.

His fingers curled around your wrist, firm but not bruising.

“Bucky,” you warned, voice still light, still teasing—but there was an edge to it now.

He stood, pulling you up with him.

“We’re gonna talk,” he said simply.

You resisted, just enough to make a point, just enough to make him tighten his grip.

“And if I don’t want to?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

His blue eyes darkened. “Not a choice.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours, the way his grip commanded rather than asked.

And then, he started walking—leading you toward the back of the bar, toward the hallway where the restrooms were.

You didn’t make it easy.

You tugged back, tried to slow him down, tried to make him work for it.

But Bucky Barnes wasn’t a man you could shake off.

He was stronger. Faster.

And he wasn’t letting go.

The hallway was dim, the music muffled as he pushed open the door to the bathroom, dragging you inside.

Your back hit the wall before you could speak.

His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, pinning it beside your head.

For the first time in a long time, your breath hitched.

Bucky was too close.

Too strong. Too unforgiving.

And for the first time—you wondered if you had underestimated him.

The air between you and Bucky was thick, charged with something dark and unspoken.

His grip on your wrist loosened only for a second before shifting—before his metal hand wrapped around your throat.

Not squeezing. Not yet. But firm enough to make your breath hitch.

His face was close, so close that you could feel the warmth of it, the barely restrained fury rolling off him in waves.

“You think this is a game?” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous.

Your lips curled, even as your pulse thumped wildly beneath his fingers. “If it is, I’m winning.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened. His other hand slammed against the wall beside your head, caging you in completely.

“You should be scared of me,” he whispered.

Your hands lifted, slow and deliberate, trailing up his arms before curling around the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.

But not in surrender.

In defiance.

“You don’t scare me,” you murmured, your lips just inches from his. “You never did.”

His grip on your throat tightened—

Then the door swung open.

Both of you froze.

A second later, a familiar voice filled the room.

“Shit—uh—”

Steve.

Standing in the doorway, eyes wide, brows lifting in something between amusement and awkward horror.

His gaze flickered between you and Bucky, taking in the way his hand was wrapped around your throat, the way your arms were around his neck, your bodies pressed close.

The way you were panting.

The way Bucky’s jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he was about to break his own teeth.

Steve took a step back, lifting his hands as if to apologize.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he muttered quickly, eyes pointedly looking anywhere but at you.

You could see it—the way his face flushed, the way he assumed.

Like he thought this was something intimate.

Like he thought he had just walked in on something he shouldn’t have.

Before either of you could correct him, before Bucky could so much as release his grip, Steve was already stepping back into the hall.

“Uh—carry on,” he muttered before quickly shutting the door.

Silence.

Then—

Bucky let out a long, frustrated groan.

His forehead dropped against yours for half a second, as if he was physically restraining himself from punching a hole through the wall.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered under his breath.

You were silent for a moment.

Then, you grinned.

“Well,” you mused, tilting your head, deliberately pressing your throat further into his grip. “That was unexpected.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, like he was seconds away from snapping.

His fingers flexed against your skin, as if debating whether to tighten or let go.

“You’re enjoying this,” he muttered darkly.

Your smile widened. “Oh, Bucky.” You tilted your chin, daring him. “You have no idea.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair as he approached the table, still feeling the lingering awkwardness from what he had just walked in on.

The others—Sam, Natasha, and a couple of Steve’s friends from work—looked up as he returned, all of them mid-conversation.

“You’re back early,” Sam noted, raising a brow. “Thought you went to the bathroom?”

Steve hesitated for half a second before lowering himself into his chair. “Yeah, uh—decided to just come back.”

Natasha’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly. “Where’s Bucky?”

Steve shifted in his seat, grabbing his drink, suddenly feeling like he needed it. “Busy.”

Sam frowned. “Busy?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Yeah. He, uh… ran into someone.”

Natasha leaned forward, lips curling in mild amusement. “Someone?”

Steve exhaled, avoiding eye contact. “A girl.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Barnes is finally getting some action, huh? Damn. About time.”

Steve’s jaw ticked. “I don’t know if it was like that.”

Natasha arched a brow. “Oh?”

Steve hesitated again, replaying what he had seen in his head—the way Bucky’s hand had been wrapped around her throat, the way her arms were looped around his neck. The way she had looked at him.

Heat crawled up Steve’s neck, and he took another sip of his drink.

“Just seemed… intense,” he muttered.

Natasha smirked. “And you left him there?”

Steve huffed. “What was I supposed to do? Didn’t wanna interrupt.”

Sam chuckled. “Damn. Well, good for him, I guess.”

Natasha’s smirk didn’t fade. “Hope he doesn’t break her.”

Steve stiffened at that, shifting in his seat again.

Something about the whole thing still didn’t sit right with him.

Something about her—about the way Bucky had been holding her, about the way she had looked so calm despite it.

It wasn’t just some casual hookup.

He just didn’t know what it was.

And that was what unsettled him the most.

Bucky had been having a perfectly normal day.

He had trained in the morning, gone for a run, even sat down for coffee with Steve—just a normal day.

And then Steve had to go and ruin it.

They were sitting in a booth at one of their usual spots, Steve casually stirring his coffee before he glanced up with that damn boyish smile of his.

“So,” Steve started, like it was nothing. “You still seeing that girl from the bar?”

Bucky’s brain short-circuited.

He blinked, staring at Steve like he had just grown a second head.

“What?”

Steve shrugged. “Y’know, the one I walked in on you with. You never told me her name.”

Bucky set his mug down slowly. “That wasn’t—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a hookup, Steve.”

Steve frowned. “It wasn’t?”

“No.”

Now Steve looked genuinely confused. “Then what were you two doing?”

Bucky opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

Oh, just threatening her because she’s a psycho stalker and possibly dangerous, but thanks to your timing, now she’s apparently my secret lover?

Yeah. That would go over real well.

Steve watched him, waiting, the confusion on his face growing when Bucky didn’t answer.

After a moment, Steve tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Wait.” His lips quirked slightly. “Is that your secret girlfriend or something?”

Bucky almost choked.

“What?”

“I mean,” Steve continued, apparently oblivious to Bucky’s growing horror, “why haven’t I met her? You usually introduce me to the girls you’re seeing.”

Bucky’s mouth opened, then closed.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to say.

And the silence only made it worse.

Because Steve took silence as something else.

His smile widened. “Oh, Buck. I’m happy for you, man.”

Bucky could only stare in mute horror as Steve reached over and patted his shoulder.

“You gotta introduce us sometime,” Steve said cheerfully.

Bucky was still too stunned to respond before Steve grabbed his coffee and stood. “Gotta head back to the tower. See you later.”

And then—he was gone.

Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Unbelievable.”

Steve didn’t mean to bring it up.

It just… slipped out.

“Yeah, Bucky’s been seeing someone.”

And that was all it took.

Sam nearly choked on his drink. “Excuse me?”

Natasha raised a brow, clearly intrigued. “Barnes has a girlfriend?”

“Secret girlfriend,” Steve corrected, grinning. “Wouldn’t even tell me her name.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Guess the Winter Soldier’s got a softer side,” Rhodey mused.

Natasha smirked. “Or a kink.”

The team chuckled, but Bucky—who had just walked into the room—wanted to die.

He froze mid-step, coffee mug in hand, eyes slowly widening as he processed what the hell was happening.

“…What?” he said blankly.

Steve turned to him, grinning like a damn idiot. “Told the team about your girl.”

Bucky stared.

Sam leaned back, amused. “C’mon, man. Spill. Who is she?”

Natasha smirked. “Yeah, Barnes. Why so secretive?”

Bucky’s fingers tensed around his mug.

Every single one of them was looking at him expectantly.

Waiting.

Waiting for him to say something.

To admit something.

To confirm something.

And Bucky—Bucky, who prided himself on staying cool under pressure, who had survived wars and torture and decades of brainwashing—

—was absolutely fucking dying inside.

His jaw tightened. He forced a casual shrug. “Nothing serious.”

Natasha’s smirk deepened. “Oh? That’s not what Steve made it sound like.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, you seemed pretty into her, Buck.”

Bucky clenched his teeth. “I’m not.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, sure. That’s why you were all over her in that bathroom, huh?”

Bucky nearly cracked his mug in half.

They were teasing him.

Messing with him.

They thought this was funny.

Meanwhile, all Bucky could think about was **you—**and how much he hated you.

His “secret girlfriend.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes as he took a long, long sip of his coffee.

He was going to kill you.

Slowly.

Painfully.

And with zero witnesses.

You sat in the shadows of the building across from Steve’s apartment, the camera in your hands long forgotten.

The bug you had planted in his place weeks ago was still working perfectly.

And tonight, like so many other nights, you listened.

Steve’s voice drifted through the earpiece, warm and familiar.

“Yeah, Bucky’s been seeing someone.”

You stilled.

Your grip on the camera tightened.

What?

Your stomach twisted—a pang of something unfamiliar blooming in your chest.

Bucky had a girlfriend?

That was news to you.

Across the street, through the open blinds, Steve sat on the couch with his girlfriend curled against him. She let out a small, surprised laugh. “Seriously? Bucky never mentioned that.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, well, apparently it’s a secret. Wouldn’t even tell me her name.”

Your fingers twitched.

A secret girlfriend.

Why the hell did that bother you?

Steve’s girlfriend hummed. “So how’d you find out?”

Steve exhaled, leaning back. “I kinda walked in on them.”

That made you pause.

Steve continued, completely unaware of the way your heart had started pounding.

“It was at the bar last week,” he said casually. “I went to the bathroom, and Bucky was in there with her. Had her pinned against the wall, real close, hand around her throat.”

Your breath hitched.

You knew this story.

Because you were the one in it.

Steve had walked in on you and Bucky.

You were the secret girlfriend.

It all clicked at once.

You sat there, frozen, as Steve’s girlfriend let out a knowing laugh. “Oh. That kind of secret.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah. I left after that, figured I was interrupting.”

The woman grinned. “Guess Bucky’s finally getting some action, huh?”

Steve shook his head, smiling. “Guess so.”

You barely heard the rest of their conversation.

Your pulse roared in your ears.

Bucky Barnes had not corrected Steve’s assumption.

Bucky Barnes had let everyone believe it.

You stared through the lens at Steve’s apartment, at the man you had spent so much time watching, wanting.

But tonight, for the first time in a long time—

Your mind wasn’t on Steve.

It was on Bucky.

Bucky didn’t know why he was still awake.

Maybe it was the unsettled feeling gnawing at his gut, maybe it was the mess you’d caused earlier in the week, or maybe it was just the constant, ever-growing tension in his chest when he thought about you.

But when he heard the soft sound of his apartment door opening at midnight, he wasn’t surprised.

What he was surprised by was finding you in his kitchen, casually flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in his pan.

You didn’t even look up at first. “Oh, hi Bucky,” you said, completely unfazed. “I figured I’d drop by… seeing as I’m your secret girlfriend.”

You winked as the sandwich sizzled, the comforting smell of melted cheese and butter filling the air.

Bucky froze. His heart stuttered in his chest, and a wave of irritation crashed over him.

“You’re breaking into my place again?” His voice was tight, eyes narrowing as he stood just inside the doorway, the door still swinging on its hinges behind him.

“Hey, I’m just making myself at home,” you said, flipping the sandwich over to cook the other side, completely at ease in his space. “Steve made assumptions, after all.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “And you failed to correct him,” she stated.

You didn’t even flinch, eyes still on the sandwich. “Or you didn’t want to,” you said with a playful smirk. “Why, Bucky? Am I growing on you?”

You took a step toward him, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.

Bucky’s eyes darkened, but his lips pressed into a thin line. “Like cancer,” he growled.

You pouted exaggeratedly, holding up your sandwich for a dramatic bite. “Ouch, Barnes.” Then, with an exaggerated shrug, you went back to cooking. “I don’t know. It’s only a matter of time before the team requests to meet me—then what?”

Bucky remained silent, staring at you with intensity.

He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t even figure out how to respond to that.

There was no good answer.

You took another bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly as if you had all the time in the world, letting the tension fill the air like a thick fog.

Finally, Bucky’s voice broke through, rough and low. “Get out.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief, before taking another deliberate bite. “Okay,” you said, still unbothered, “after I finish this.”

Bucky stood there for a few seconds, fists clenched at his sides, before giving in to the pull of exhaustion and frustration. He collapsed into the chair at the kitchen table, his gaze never leaving you.

He didn’t ask you to leave again.

He just watched as you took your sweet time finishing the sandwich, the seconds stretching longer and longer until he felt like he was about to lose his mind.

Finally, you pushed the plate aside, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “There, all done,” you said with satisfaction. “See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, the silence between you growing thick and unbearable.

Then, as if to rub it in just a little more, you stood, walking toward the door.

Before leaving, you turned and gave him a teasing smile, blowing him a kiss.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you said with a laugh, before slipping out into the night.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Bucky sat there in the silence of his apartment, the weight of everything pressing down on him.

His head dropped into his hands, fingers threading through his hair in frustration.

“What the hell do I do?” he muttered to himself.

But deep down, he already knew.

This wasn’t over.

It had been inevitable, really.

After all the teasing, after all the mind games you’d played with Bucky, it was only a matter of time before you were going to have to meet the Avengers.

You knew it, he knew it, and now the moment had arrived.

Bucky had tried to avoid it, tried to keep things under wraps for as long as possible, but you knew exactly how to make him bend. So when the opportunity came, you were more than ready.

The moment you walked into the common area of the tower, the team’s eyes landed on you like a prey animal’s gaze. They’d all been whispering about you for days, piecing together what they thought they knew. The secret girlfriend. The one who made Bucky twitch every time her name was mentioned.

But now, you were standing in front of them, giving them your best innocent smile.

And Bucky—poor Bucky—was standing beside you, a tension in his posture that didn’t go unnoticed.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

You greeted the team with a bright smile, completely carefree. “Hi, everyone!” You waved, your voice dripping with sugary sweetness as if you were meeting old friends.

You heard Sam chuckle from the couch, clearly amused by the sight of the woman who had been the topic of so much recent conversation.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he folded his arms, looking like he wanted to vanish into thin air.

“You must be the famous secret girlfriend,” Sam said, leaning back, his eyes scanning you with curiosity.

You grinned widely, stepping toward Bucky and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek—too quick for his liking. “Yep, that’s me. Bucky’s been keeping me all to himself,” you said, your voice honeyed with mock sweetness.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but you could see the faintest blush creep up his neck.

“Not a secret anymore,” you added with a smirk, all while keeping your eyes on Bucky, watching him twitch at the way you purposely flirted.

You could see his discomfort, feel it practically radiating from him. But you loved every minute of it.

“How long have you two been together?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow as she took a casual sip of her drink.

You flashed a mischievous grin, letting your gaze linger on Bucky before answering. “Oh, it’s been a while,” you said, shrugging, acting like it was no big deal. “Long enough for him to be scared for me to meet all of you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw so tightly, you swore you could hear it.

“Scared?” Sam echoed, clearly amused. “What’s that about?”

“Yeah,” Natasha chimed in, glancing between the two of you. “Seems like you two have some explaining to do.”

You tilted your head, as if thinking about it. “Well, Bucky was worried that meeting everyone would be a bit overwhelming for me,” you said, the words coming out with just a hint of mockery, all the while flashing Bucky a knowing look. “But I think I’m doing fine so far, don’t you think?”

Bucky’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. “Can we just move on?” he muttered, trying to pull the attention off of you, but you weren’t having it.

“No, no. I think we’re doing just fine, don’t you, love?” you asked, stepping closer to him, laying your hand on his chest as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

The team was watching, their eyes flicking between you two. You had their full attention now, and you relished it.

You continued to keep your hand on his chest, leaning into him and whispering “babe” as if there was nothing unusual about it. Bucky’s discomfort was palpable, but you could feel his muscles tense under your touch.

His expression remained stone-cold, but his eyes betrayed him. The way they flickered to you, darkened with irritation.

You grinned, savoring the look on his face.

“You know,” you said aloud, not giving him any mercy. “Bucky’s a bit of a grump sometimes.” You winked at him, pushing all his buttons, knowing full well how much he hated being the subject of your teasing.

“You’re… a handful,” Bucky finally muttered, still looking at you with an intensity that made the air between you both heavy.

“Maybe I am,” you said, tapping his chest lightly. “But you love it, don’t you?”

You could see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes, to show any weakness in front of the team. You could feel the way his anger was simmering under the surface, but you weren’t about to stop.

You were having too much fun.

“So,” Sam started, trying to break the tension, “how’d you two meet?”

You leaned back slightly, tilting your head like you were thinking it over. “Well, I’m sure Bucky has a pretty interesting story,” you said with a coy smile. “But maybe he’s just too shy to tell you.”

Bucky gave you a pointed look, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed as he reluctantly gave in.

“Not much of a story,” he muttered.

But you didn’t let it go. “We met at a bar,” you said brightly, making sure to meet everyone’s eyes. “And he was so charming, I couldn’t resist.”

Sam let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying watching the two of you. “You know, I didn’t think Barnes had it in him.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, and you could practically feel the storm cloud hanging over him.

You couldn’t get enough of it.

“Anyway,” you said, still grinning, “I think it’s time to meet the team, don’t you think, babe?”

Bucky didn’t respond. He just shot you a look that could melt steel.

“Yeah, I think it’s time.” You stepped away from him, but not before throwing him a playful wink, rubbing it in just a little more.

As you chatted with the team, Bucky stood there, silently seething, knowing full well that the next few days would only get worse.

Because you were only just beginning.

You had started visiting more frequently, casually dropping by the Tower with home-baked treats for the team. Every time you entered, it was like you were putting on a performance, the sweet smiles, the perfect little gestures. You acted as if you were nothing but Bucky’s perfect little doll, and it was driving him insane.

The team didn’t see through the act. They loved the cookies, the cakes, the way you’d show up with that innocent grin, your eyes always sparkling.

But Bucky saw it—saw through the sweetness to the dark game you were playing.

He noticed how you never gave Steve more than a passing glance when he was in the room. It was as if Steve was a mere afterthought, a distant blur in the background of your ever-watchful eyes.

And it bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst part was when you met Steve’s girlfriend.

You’d been so calm, so collected, when you’d walked into the room, offering your usual cheery greeting, but the moment Steve’s girlfriend smiled at you, you stiffened. Your shoulders tensed, a flicker of something—possessive?—crossed your face, but you quickly masked it with an even more sickly sweet smile.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” you said, your voice as sweet as honey, but there was a hardness underneath that no one else noticed. You clasped your hands in front of you, trying to act the perfect girlfriend to Bucky.

“We should all go on a double date sometime,” you continued, your voice saccharine as you glanced at Steve’s girlfriend with a smile that was almost too perfect. “I’m sure Bucky and I would love to hang out with you two.”

Bucky’s stomach churned. He didn’t miss the way you’d said it, the almost possessive tone underneath your overly kind words.

Steve chuckled, totally oblivious to the tension in the room. “That sounds like a great idea! What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky froze, his fists clenching at his sides. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to sit through some “perfect double date” with you, especially not when he could feel the weight of your eyes on him.

Before he could speak, Steve elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “What, you don’t wanna go on a double date with your girl?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He was afraid if he said something now, it’d only fuel the fire between you two, and the last thing he needed was more fuel to the ridiculous game you were playing.

You caught Bucky’s gaze, that cocky, smug smile never leaving your lips. And it made his stomach twist.

You were too good at this—at manipulating everyone around you, at making Bucky feel like he was the only one who mattered. But he wasn’t stupid. You weren’t just interested in him. You wanted more.

And the worst part? He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to stop you or if he was just playing along.

But one thing was for certain: the game had just changed.

Katy was too trusting.

She had the kind of warm, open personality that made people gravitate toward her—sweet, kind, the perfect girl-next-door type. The kind of woman Steve deserved.

And you hated her for it.

Not that you let it show, of course.

Instead, you played the part of a good friend, someone she could confide in, trust, tell things to.

You listened intently when she spoke, nodding at the right moments, offering soft smiles, asking innocent, well-placed questions that made her spill every little detail. She never noticed how you were pulling the most juicy pieces of information from her, all under the guise of friendly curiosity.

She told you about her and Steve’s relationship, their dates, their private moments, the way Steve would hold her at night when she couldn’t sleep.

And you drank it in like poison, smiling sweetly through the burn.

Katy thought you were becoming such a good friend.

And you were going to use that to your advantage.

The night of the double date, you put extra effort into your appearance.

Not for Steve, of course.

No, this was for Bucky.

The dress you picked hugged your figure just right, the kind of outfit that made people stare. Your makeup was flawless, every detail perfectly curated.

When Bucky first saw you, he didn’t say a word.

But his eyes told you everything.

They raked over your curves, flickered over the exposed skin of your legs, lingered a moment too long at the way the dress dipped in all the right places.

He caught himself too late.

He quickly hardened his expression, turning away like he didn’t care, but you caught it.

And it thrilled you.

“You look nice,” Katy complimented you as the four of you stood outside the restaurant, waiting to be seated.

“Thank you,” you said with a saccharine smile. “So do you.”

Bucky said nothing. But you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched at his sides.

Oh this was going to be fun!

—> Part Two

[moaihybitoyoidaics]

Ghastly. (Jurdan)

Okslay, so I published this on my wattpad bare time ago. It was originally published in chapters so I've put little stars where that was in the story. TW SMUT

Word count: 8014

Vivi slouched against my bedroom door and scoffed, I didn't bother to turn around, I would only get chastised yet again. The room was riddled with dirty cups and plates, the curtains hadn't been opened in days and it had started to smell. I probably smelled a bit too. "I know you're used to people waiting on you, you're highness," she said sarcastically. "But that shit won't fly around here for much longer." "Leave me to die, Vee." I mumbled, tucked away under my unwashed covers. "I have nothing to live for anyway." "You're right. You're absolutely right. You should kill yourself right now and be done with it." I looked up from under my cocoon, to see her face was more jovial than sinister. "Or you can shower, get dressed and come out with me and Heather." "Out where?" "Clubbing." "Should I hang myself or jump off the roof?" I burrowed back down into my duvet. Vivi knocked her hand against the door frame before disappearing out of my room. In the months since my exile, most days had been like this and I didn't see it improving. I found myself obsessing over what I would do to Cardan should I ever come to be in his presence again, I hated him and would never forgive him for subjecting me to the torture of the mortal world. And yet I still found myself musing over his wicked lips and all too clever hands, his kisses that bewitched me like faerie fruit. But still I thought of nothing more than my knife against his throat tied to that chair in the Court of Shadows. I turned over, tugging my duvet with me. There was a clattering of porcelain and metal against the floor. I sat up quickly to see what had made the noise, plates encrusted with hardened food had shattered against the carpeted floor, followed by silverware that had fallen and bounced across the room. Vivi was right, it was time to sort myself out. I pried myself away from the duvet and stood in front of my mirror. Ghastly. A two day old spaghetti hoop stain, matted hair and breath that could knock Maddoc on his back. I was undoubtedly a mess. I began by brushing my teeth, the mint stung my tongue, and then I dragged a brush through the tangled bird's nest on my head. I looked at myself in the mirror again, still not much better. So I showered, shaved my legs and changed my clothes. They were all minor changes but still, I felt marginally better for making them. Next came the challenge of tidying my room, it wasn't something I was particularly eager to begin but nonetheless I embarked on my mission. I began with the food encrusted plates, scrubby at them with everything Vivi held in her kitchen, before hoovering and changing my bed sheets.

When I had finished my self-prescribed chores, I called for my sister; knowing that as a faerie she could not lie about my accomplishments. I braced myself for the fanfare, as I guarded my door. When she approached, I dramatically unveiled my almost clean room. I anticipated her reaction as she inspected the space.

"Open a window." She said, hardly glancing at me. "It still stinks."

"Oh," I sighed, a little defeated.

"It's better than it was though." She turned herself to face me. "Do you feel any better?"

"I suppose. So, where are you guys going tonight?"

Vivi explained that they had planned to go bar hopping across town and hit a couple of clubs if they had time. "It's not exactly attending Court at the palace, but it's better than letting you wallow in your own self pity any longer."

I laughed hollowly, she was right. I needed to get out of the apartment soon or I would go crazy. "If I had anything to wear maybe I would go with you, but I look like the Queen of Mirth right now. Maybe I'll come with you next time."

"My God, could you be any more obvious? You can raid me and Heather's wardrobe." Vivi laughed, playfully nudging my arm. "Sort your face out, I know you have makeup."

That was true. I did have some makeup, however the method of which to use it eluded me. Never quite blended or bright enough, lines never straight, just splotchy clumps of black and beige. In Faerie I had Tatterfell to help me to ready myself, but here in the mortal world, I had to rely on my own clumsy hands. I looked back to Vivienne. "What time are we leaving?"

                                         ***

With my eyes smeared with shimmering black eyeshadow and my lips painted a similar shade, I wriggled into a crimson, latex minidress, raided from Vivi's extensive closet. I tried to recreate the horn-like braids that Tatterfell so skilfully created in my hair, however one ended up a little lopsided. Finally, I stuffed my feet into a pair of black, platform boots. For the first time since arriving back in the mortal world, I looked in the mirror and liked who I saw. I may not be the High Queen of Elfhame, but by god I was majestic. I strode out into our communal space, enveloped by a new sense of power. Vivi and Heather cheered for me, both standing up to embrace me. "You look incredible." Vivi grinned, at last telling me a truth I wanted to hear. "I know."

***

After glamouring a bouncer, Vivi lead us into a dimly lit bar. The walls were lined with what looked like red LED lights and varying graffiti style artworks. There was a bar on the back wall, proceeded by a sticky looking dance floor. Heather, who was apparently a regular, marched over to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. She handed me a tiny, triangular glass filled with a pinkish beverage.  I sniffed it and recoiled, feeling the alcohol in the backs of my eyes. 

"Christ, Heather! What's in this?" I laughed a little.

"I don't know, but they taste good." Fair enough, I thought sipping the drink. She was right. Vivi grabbed Heather's free hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. The DJ was playing something grungy, like our dad used to listen to. The song sounded familiar, like something from a distant, faded memory or a dream. Perhaps he'd played it for us on a long forgotten road trip. I watched them twist and twirl together with the music and smiled, Vivi had found a home in the mortal world, something I could only hope to accomplish. I swayed as they danced. It had none of the extravagance of the High Court revels, but at least they were happy here. I took a long sip of my drink and decided to join them, they welcomed me into their space as my clumsy feet tried to keep up with them. Heather grabbed my hand and spun me around. 

I thought of the way Cardan had danced with me at Prince Dain's disastrous coronation, the way his fingers had grazed against my waist and his eyes, black as night, had looked down on me in sickening contempt. The way he loved hating me and hated loving me, my cruel husband. I pulled away from Heather. 

"Where's the bathroom?" I shouted over the music. Vivi pointed past the bar, I nodded and started to walk away. 

I tried to push through a rowdy crowd of middle aged men, but gave up and went around them. The room seemed to get smaller, maybe I wasn't ready for this. Maybe I was still too angry. And then, a few feet away from me I saw two midnight eyes. Panic seeped into my blood, I closed my eyes and tried to breathe but my breath hitched in the back of my throat. I reopened my eyes and they were gone, I was so certain I had seen them. I rushed towards the bathroom, my heart hammering against my chest. I leaned over the basin and splashed some icy water against my face, sending mascara streaming down my cheeks. Surely it hadn't been him, surely I had hallucinated it. Cardan could not be here, Cardan couldn't know where I was. I must have seen what I wanted to see,  there was nothing more to it.  I took a deep breath and stepped away from the sink. Cardan wasn't there. 

I left the bathroom hesitantly. Despite assuring myself that I had hallucinated, I kept my eyes peeled. I saw Heather and Vivi propped up against the bar, nursing a blue drink. Heather was astounded when she squeezed a lemon into the drink, turning it magenta.

"It's like magic!" She giggle. Vivi and I shared a look between ourselves. "You were gone for ages, Jude! You good?"

"Yeah... I just needed a moment." I lied. I leaned against the bar and rested my head in my hands. I made eye contact with the bar tender and smiled, pointing at Heather's drink. "Can I have whatever this is?" 

                                                                                          ***

My head tingled as I drunkenly swayed to a what I assumed was an old rock ballad. The room had filled out even more, leaving little room to negotiate the dance floor. I tried my hardest to put the image of Cardan out of my mind, but it came to the forefront of my thoughts every now and then. I took a long swig from the bottle of beer I was holding and turned to look for my sister. Vivi and Heather had disappeared into the sea of people crowding the bar. I pushed my way to the side of the dance floor, hoping that distancing myself from the hoard would reveal them. To my disappointment, however, they were no where to be seen. 

I turned away from the dance floor to face the seating area, plush velvet couches and red tinted lights. There, across the room, slouching back against the far wall were two inky black eyes stared right at me. His dark hair was slicked back from his face and his eyes were rimmed with kohl. He wore a sheer black shirt and what looked like black jeans. I saw his coiled tail twitch as he looked at me. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, my attire was not at all what I would usually be seen in. 

Before I knew what I was doing, I was halfway across the floor. His head cocked to one side and he smirked as he began to approach me.  I felt Cardan's breath on my cheek as he leaned in to me.

"My darling, Jude." He whispered. I felt my fingers curl into a fist and I took a slight step back. My arm launched through the air, my fist colliding with his jaw. 

"Fuck you." I spat. I felt my arms get pinned against my sides as someone much taller and heavier than me seized me. The bouncer.  I was dragged from where I stood, away from Cardan's smug grin.

"I wish you would." He called after me, wiping a speck of blood from his wicked mouth. He watched as I was tossed out of the bar, a feeling that was reminiscent of one I had felt just a few months before upon my exile. 

***

Vivi and Heather came tumbling out of the bar, shouting atop of each other. Through their mumbling and bumbling I managed to pick out only snippets of what they were actually saying.

"You just punched a guy!" Heather said, panic in her voice.

"That wasn't who I think it was... was it?" Vivi's feline eyes bored into me, chilling me to my core. I nodded, curtly and turned away from her.

"Who was it?" Heather asked, her words slurring slightly.

I looked back to Vivi who looked back at me, with a panicked gaze at her inability to lie. "Ex boyfriend." I responded, unable to looked her straight on. Vivi's look of relief spurred me on. "You know, the one who dumped me before I started crashing with you guys?"

Heather nodded slowly before kneeling down and unbuckling her shoes. "He probably deserved it then."  She laughed and took both of her shoes off. "Shall we go somewhere else? I'm still in the party mood."

I thought about it for a moment, sobering up in the cool night air. "Fuck it. Why not?" Heather celebrated and stood back up.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Jude? I mean, aren't you kind of angry?" Vivi asked. She was absolutely right, I was furious with Cardan for showing up in my world but I refused to allow him to ruin my night any more than he already had.

"I want to go and get drunk and dance and forget about all of this. You were right earlier, Vivi. I need this night out."

"Well can you at least try not to deck anyone else, please?"

"I'll do my best."

We set off from the bar and headed further into the town centre. Clusters of girls in tight dresses and boys not dressed nearly well enough for the occasion sauntered through the cobbled streets, the air was filled with drunken laughter and flirting. The latter made me sick to my stomach. As I walked I felt  my latex dress dampening from the heat of the evening, sticking to my back and legs. I began to realise that Vivi and Heather we far more intoxicated than I was, which I assumed would be a problem later in the night.  Heather tripped on some invisible force, sending her careening into a conveniently placed Vivi. I turned to her, sending her a disapproving look. Since I had moved in with Heather and Vivi, I had noticed that my sister would sometimes glamour Heather into tripping or dropping things which Vivi would conveniently  catch. Although I could no longer be glamoured, I did remember the feeling. I didn't approve of my sisters manipulations, and it seemed that being a mortal wooed by the Fae had only downsides in my experience.  Vivi glanced back at me and shrugged, in her opinion she was doing nothing wrong; she was merely using her power to further her relationship with Heather. Regardless of what she thought, it was manipulation. She had power and Heather did not.

                                                                                         ***

The line outside the next club was disastrously long. I believed the sun would have risen before we made it inside. Heather looked at her girlfriend, with pining eyes. "But baby, you can get us in anywhere! You said we were always on the list!" Of course, Heather thought this, Vivi had obviously been glamouring half of the mortal world just to stay in Heather's good books. As much as I hated it, I wanted Vivi to get us into the club, the evening had turned cool and I wasn't used to wearing so little this late in the day. The hypocrisy was not lost on me.

Vivi sighed in faux relent. "I guess I'll see what I can do, just for you." Heather gleamed as we followed her up to the front of the queue. As Vivienne spoke to the bouncer, her voice was thick with glamour, "I think you'll find us on the list." She purred. The bouncer, poor man, became distant. His eyes glazed and he smiled. "Of course you are. Welcome." He pulled a smooth, velvet rope aside and ushered us into the building. As soon as we entered my ears we destroyed. The thudding base reverberated in my chest and a fog machine choked my lungs. It was rammed with bodies, moving and grinding against each other; I tried to force my way into a less densely packed area but was thrown to the dance floor. My thoughts harkened back to the High Court, a mortal would be entranced by the Faerie music and dance until their heart gave up. My tongue was dry and I couldn't see Heather or Vivi anywhere. Panic set in, this wasn't what I had intended when agreeing to the night out. Again I tried to push my way out but was knocked to the floor, I curled up my fingers trying to avoid them being trampled and pulled my knees to my chest. No one seemed to notice that I had fallen. No one cared. A foot came down on mine, hard, and I yelped out in pain. My cry was swallowed up by the cheering and the bass. Through my balled up fist I rubbed to top of my bitten off finger, seeking comfort in the most rudimental way. I was yanked up to my feet and dragged through the crowd. In my shock I fought back, pulled against the bejeweled hand. Bejewelled? No... no surely not- I looked up to the person dragging me. And pulled harder. His dark eyes scolded me as he turned to face me.  He pulled me towards him, making me collide with his chest. He placed his hand on my chin and forced me to look up at him. "You're weak."

***

I guzzled down a bottle of water, trying to regain control of my breathing. Cardan sat next to me, staring ahead dismissively. His finger ran around the edge of a plastic cup, something I had often seen him do in deep thought at the palace, although I was used to seeing him do this with fine glassware. Vivi and Heather were still in the club, but Cardan had dragged me over to a quiet dive bar a couple of streets away. My head swam with questions, although I was grateful to him for getting me out of that situation, I was furious at him for showing up unannounced. Why was he even here?

The jukebox played a whiney jazz song on what sounded like a scratched record, occasionally jumping and hissing like a startled cat.

"I didn't need your help." I said, more aggressively than I had intended. Cardan continued to stare ahead as if ignorant to the fact that I had spoken. "I'm serious, I was fine. I was about to get up."

Cardan laughed, sourly. "Oh yeah? Is that right?" He caught the eye of the bartender and held up two fingers. The barkeep approached us.

"Does she have ID?" He asked Cardan.

"You can ask her yourself." I started.

"You can serve her." Cardan's voice was heavy with glamour, seductive and rough. The barkeep nodded and brought us two rusty brown drinks. I took a sip and recoiled, having grown used to Heather's sweet and fruity beverages. This lingered in the back of my throat, clawing and hot. Cardan laughed.  "You never were a good drinker."

"You've always been too good." I retorted. He finally turned to face me, his dark eyes gazing into my chestnut brown ones.

"You're ghastly. You know that?" He grinned.

"God I hate you." I was the first to turn away.

"I love it when you say that." I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, boiling my blood.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I snapped. "Don't give me that 'I'm the King' horseshit, because I put you there. How dare you show up here! I'm moving on, I have a life here!" Most of that last bit were obvious lies. I hadn't moved on, not even a little bit. And I clearly didn't have a life in the mortal world.

Cardan took a moment to consider what I had said, chewing on his drink as he did. "I have visited you. Many nights, I have watched you. Some life you're living here. Living in that box, in your own squalor, tossing a turning at night, dreaming of me no doubt. Some life without me."

"You cast me out! I had nothing!" I spat.

"You had your supposed hate for me keeping you warm, my darling Jude." He smirked, his curly hair flopping into his eyes. "And it seems you had one hell of a punch to keep you safe. But I ask you this, why didn't you try to return? Why didn't you come home to me?"

He placed his hand on my thigh, too close to the hem of my dress, and slowly started moving it up. I plastered my face with a smear of disgust and whacked with hand away.

"Excuse me, I must use the facilities." I said, already regretting it.

"So human, my sweet villain."

                                                                                     *** After staring at my seething reflection in a cracked bathroom mirror, I returned to my seat at the bar. Cardan had obviously been nursing his drink in my presence and my absence had encouraged him to enjoy it at a quicker pace. It seemed that he had helped himself to some of mine as well. I slid in next to  him and looked intently at his features, wondering what his eyes, ears and tail looked like to the people he glamoured. Did he make his eyes appear brown, blue or green? Did he keep some kind of point to his ears? It was something I never had time to consider before.

"Would you stop looking at me?" Cardan asked, startling me out of my daze.

"Sorry."

"No you aren't. You've missed me."

"Missed you? Please. I've hardly thought of you." I lied. "Cardan, tell me. What are you doing here?"

"I've come to bring you home. Back to Elfhame, to the palace with me. You're miserable here and you belong to- with me." The bartender called for last orders. "I could make him let us stay, you know?"

"Leave him alone. He's already been glamoured once tonight, it's not fair." I sighed.

"Where was that compassion when you killed my brother?"

"Cardan I-" I was taken aback by this. Cardan had not shown any real disturbance at the time of his brothers demise. Of course I could blame that on the effects of the poison but I thought he hated Balekin.

"Perhaps I should take you home?" He said, almost sadly.

"No!" I said, before  I had considered what that would mean. "Maybe you could ask him for one more drink?"

Cardan's devilish eyes met mine as he smirked. He beckoned the barkeep over and told him in that sweet and sour voice that we would be staying until we felt like leaving, setting our night in motion.

***

"See, I knew you were missing me." I laughed, slopping some of my drink across the bar. Everybody else had been asked to leave, but Cardan had glamoured the bartender to allow us to stay and to continue bringing us drinks. 

"I've missed having someone tell me what to do." He grinned and looked away. "It's not been easy without you, having to make all these choices by myself. I'd rather have my senechal -"

"-Your Queen." I interjected. 

"Yes of course, I'd rather have my Queen beside me." He took a long sip of his drink. 

I sighed and followed suit. "Well, whose fault is that?"

"Mine, as so many things were when we were together." He moved his hand back to my leg. "Remember that time behind the throne room?"

I swatted at his hand again but he persisted. "The only time, Cardan. That was the only time that happened." I tired to conceal it, but a nervous shiver ran through my body. "And I would very much like to forget it. It was... embarrassing." 

He shook his head and looked at me, deep and intently. "For you, maybe." His fingers traced little spirals against my goose-bumped flesh. "For me it was an entirely different story."

"Tell me your version then." I pressed.

"I was furious. At you mostly. To suggest I seduce Nicassia? She wasn't the one I wanted, Jude." I felt my cheeks flush. "I yearned to feel you beneath me. I wanted to feel your mortal skin on mine. I think you wanted it too, I remember the way you moved against me. I was born into magic, my dear Jude, I always thought I knew what it felt like but... something about you in that moment... I hadn't really  felt it until then." 

The knowledge that he could only speak the truth chilled me to my core. I tried to find tricks and riddles in his words but every time I came up short. My breath caught in the back of my throat and I tried to pull away but his grip on me wouldn't allow it. "You're drunk, Cardan."

"And yet I feel sober as a monk. That feeling it lingers. Every time I touch you, I am scorned to know that Locke touched you first, that I ever laid my hands on you in malice. I have wanted you since I have known you and although I have dealt with those feelings poorly in the past, it is you I want. Only you. So yes, I have missed you." This time, Cardan pushed himself away from the bar, offering out his hand. "I beg you ignore me. I have felt so much for you since you have been gone. I have longed for you Jude. I have longed for you and I will long for you until you return to our home." 

My body twitched with anticipation, awaiting his next move. His vulnerability was startling and I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me. Or kill me. The sensation was often tricky to pin down when it was brought about by Cardan. I felt myself move towards him, leaning in for the release of his lips on mine, but found that he did not meet them. "What's wrong?" I breathed. 

"I do not desire your pity. I do not wish to be kissed under the duress of my broken heart. I want you to want me too."  I finally took his hand and he pulled me away from the chair. He placed his free hand on my waist and swayed slowly with me. 

"Last time you held me like this, you said you hated me." I rested my head against his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his immortal heart. 

"Maybe I thought I did. But I know better than that now." 

                                                                                                ***

We swayed like that together for a while, Cardan's hand occasionally finding it's way to stroke my hair. My heart swam with so many unanswered questions, feelings I had left untouched for as long as I could. He rested his head against mine and breathed softly against my braided horns, at last he let go.

"Do you suppose we should relieve our man from his duties?" He asked, nodding towards the bartender. "I think he has served us long enough."  I nodded and he left me to remove the glamour. I imagined that next time  the man played the lottery, his numbers would come up or he would have a habit for finding money in the street. 

When Cardan approached me again, he had a certain spring in his step and a devilish gleam in his eyes. "What is it?" I asked nervously.

"Your sister is clubbing?" He said. 

"Yes..."

"What say you, we do the same? I should like to try it before I return to Elfhame." 

I pondered this for a moment, would anything in the mortal world live up to what High King Cardan was used to? Well... I suppose I did. 

***

It seemed as though I had abandoned my moral compass altogether by the time we arrived at the next club. My head was swimming and I had trouble remembering how it was I came to be in Cardan's presence. At the time however, that didn't seem to matter, I was just glad to be with him. He glamoured the bouncer to allow us into the club, we painted ourselves with UV paint and decked out our bodies with glow-sticks. Cardan took one look at me and began to howl, his laughter seemed to reverberate through the speakers, which sent me into a crumbling mess of giggles. I found myself feeling freer with him than I ever had done with anyone else. I took two glow-sticks from my wrists and dangled them over his pointed ears.

Further into the club I noticed podiums, with half naked girls dancing against glimmering poles. It didn't shock me to find Cardan practically licking the stage. I pulled him away and found a booth, the lights were dimmer but the music seemed louder. The seats were sticky with what I hoped was nothing more than a spilled drink, but my conscience told me otherwise.  I looked at Cardan, whose eyes were alight with intrigue. He leaned in to me, his lips against my ear and whispered, "I thought such debauchery was  of Faerie, not of the mortal realm."

"You'd be surprised what we get up to!" I laughed. He didn't move away and neither did I. His lips trailed against my skin, hot and wet. His hand founds its way back to my thigh and, against my better judgement, I allowed him to slide his hand further up.

"I changed my mind," He hissed.  "I don't care if you pity me, Jude Duarte. Because I pity you more." He turned my face to his and kissed me, forcefully. In my drunken stupor I didn't feel like pulling away, instead I insisted that he stayed by thrusting my hands in his hair. His hands explored my body, making me ache for him. His fingers clasped around my throat, instinctively I tried to pull away but when I eyes met his I saw... what was it? Not hate... no not exactly. It was something new. When I started to panic and pulled back, he looked at me hurt as if I had my hand around his throat. "I want to dance!" I lied over the music. He nodded and followed me into the crowd. Surrounded by jostling, sweaty bodies his hands found my waist. I turn away and danced against him, at first he seemed to recoil- unsettled by the intimacy, perhaps too used to the way we moved in Elfhame, but after a moment he settled into it and moved with me. He gripped my waist tightly, as if I was his only life jacket in this strange mortal sea. I turned to face him, to see his big black eyes staring down at me. I cocked my head to one side. He leaned down, so close that his lips brush my ear as he spoke, "You should come home." I dragged myself away and stared at him, face on. His liquid irises hardened. Slowly and methodically he said; "You. Should. Come. Back. Home" In a second my mind reeled. What? He sent me away? He didn't want me? He confessed that he missed me but didn't want to kiss me? Then he's all over me? Before I knew what I was doing I turned and fled, pushing my way through sweaty, sticky bodies. I had grown weary of his faerie mind games, his trickery had grown tiresome. Of course I had longed to return to Elfhame, to find a riddle in his banishment but how could I ever go home? With the threat of execution or worse hanging over my every step. No. I refused to believe there was any way to escape my plight. Before I knew it I was a block away, panting alone on a street I didn't recognise. My ears rang and from the distance I heard to rhythmic thumping of club music. I looked left and right, but couldn't quite remember the way I had come from... or the way home. I fumbled in my purse, searching for my phone. I could call a taxi or Vivi or Heather, anyone to take me home. I fought back the tears that stung behind my eyes. Cardan Greenbriar had always been an enigma but this... oh this was worse than anything he'd ever done before. "Jude!" His voice echoed through the empty streets, it's direction untraceable. "Jude! What did I do? Please, Jude!" He rounded the corner nearest to me. Startled as he saw me, he rushed over. I raised my hand and swung it towards his face, instead of hearing a sharp slap against his skin, my wrist was caught in his long, slender fingers. "If you strike me again tonight, I will lose it." He breathed. "Why won't you come home. I know you're smart enough to have figured it out. So what is it Jude Duarte? Is it that you truly hate me as much as you always said? If it is so, then I beg you tell me mortal lies and let me believe you love me." I clawed my hand away from him, I couldn't bare to look at him. A wounded little boy, abandoned and turned wicked, but wounded nonetheless. His deep black eyes were a golden blaze in the street light, I finally met his gaze. He was hurt and lonely and still so wicked and he could have had me killed or left me to rot in the mortal world and yet I wanted to hold him. "Why did-" He cut me off with a long, gentle kiss. I tasted no malice on his tongue, his lips were as sweet as the faerie fruit I so desired. "Please say you love me." He whispered as he pulled away.

***

Our foreheads resting against one another, I closed my eyes right away from his words. Truth. It was all he could speak. As desperate as I was to find treachery in his words, I could decipher none. "Cardan, I-" I began. "You need not speak now, Jude. You should tell me if you should ever return to our home." He whispered. "If you wish for me to leave you, you need only say once and I'll leave you alone." I hate him. Except I don't. I only want to keep hating him, I know that now. "Stay with me." My voice, soft and timid, was entirely foreign to me. "Don't leave me again." He took my hand in his and brought it up to his lips. His hands were soft against my calloused fingers. "Take me home with you."

***

The apartment was silent, undisturbed since we left several hours before. I flipped the switch and illuminated the open living space, socks and bras and unwashed jeans lay over the couch and coffee table. "I'm sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting to bring anyone back here tonight." I said, feeling my cheeks glow crimson red as I gathered up the dirty laundry. "We don't have maids or servants, it's hard to keep on top of." I turned to see Cardan, leaning against the washing machine, a smirk dancing on his lips. I glared at him and he laughed a short, curt laugh. "You are so very mortal, Jude. Has anybody ever told you that?" I scowled and he laughed a little harder. "I like watching you do things... normal things to you. I think tonight is the first time I've seen you without a blade." This made me laugh. Without saying a word, I hitched my skirt up slightly to show him the small silver dagger I had strapped to my thigh. "I'm surprised you didn't feel it." Cardan moved towards me slowly, I cocked my head to one side trying to work out his next move. His eyes narrowed as he examined my body. Phlegmatically, he lowered himself down to his knees before me as his hands crept up across the back of my dress. He leaned in and kissed my thigh, just above the hilt of the blade. His fingers trailed along my skin, before gently slipping the strap down my leg. He continued kissing my leg as he reached up my dress. With the same methodical movements he pulled down my underwear. My cheeks ran hot as the rest of my body shivered with anticipation. Cardan stood, towering over me. His black eyes were hungry, I looked up at him like a doe in the line of an arrow. He tipped his head towards the sofa, and obediently I went and sat down. The High King placed his fingers softly under my chin, tilting my head to look at him. "Open your legs for me." His voice was low and gruff and I obliged. "Good girl. Now tell me, did Locke do to you what I am going to do to you?" I shook my head and he smirked. I had always hated when he did that, but then in that moment I felt something with in me begin to boil. Passionate heat coursing through my blood in a way it had done only once before... the annex behind the throne. Cardan seemed to notice my squirming as he traced his keen fingers along my jawline. His hand lingered for a moment too long and I felt myself sink my cheek into his cupped hand.

In one swift motion Cardan was on top of me, pinning me against the couch. His cool breath tickled my neck, sending an icy shiver through me, as he expertly unzipped my dress and slid it from me leaving me naked and vulnerable to his next move. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling with the intricate clasps.

When finally I rid him of his clothes I allowed my hands to wander across his back. He flinched away as my fingers ran over the crest of a particularly raised, long scar.  "Memories from a lifetime ago, my love." He whispered through gritted teeth. He inched closer, his knee pressing up against me. I let out a soft moan as a chill sprang up through my back, I wanted him more than I could scream. I wanted to push him off me and pull him into me in the same instant. Before I could form a full thought his head had migrated away from mine and had found it's way between my legs as he breathed a soft, cool gasp. His long fingers wrapped around my thighs and squeezed, his nails pinching at my flesh. I took a sharp breath as Cardan's tongue grazed my skin and laced my hands through the tangle of his dark hair. "Cardan.." I whispered breathlessly. "Cardan please..." He pressed his tongue harder and faster as I squirmed beneath his weight, pulling at his hair. I felt my eyes begin to roll as I climaxed, I arched my back and curled up my toes, it overtook me in tides of pleasure.  As he sat up and wiped his mouth, by body tingled and my legs were weak but I could feel only one thing. I was horrified. How had I allowed this to happen? 

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "This is only going to make things ever more complicated." 

I stared at him, aghast. "Yeah, no shit." I grabbed a cushion from the back of the couch and threw it over my body . 

"I'll ask you this only once, did you figure it out?" His voice was soft. "Did you see through my trickery and stay away only to make me suffer?" 

"Your trickery? What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice shaking. I had grown tired of his mind games, it seemed to me that the whole evening he had been leading me to some proverbial cliff only to keep threatening to push me over the edge. 

"Jude you are the High Queen of Elfhame. The High Queen. You are the crown." For a moment his words meant nothing to me. I knew I was the High Queen, of course I knew. But the crown? What did the crown have to do with anything. Until it dawned on me. "The mortal queen of Faerie who is oh so clever, my dear Jude. Pardon yourself. Better yet, I'll pardon you. Come home and be my wife, come home and be beautiful by my side." I could have strangled him. 

I stayed silent for a while, allowing his revelation to wash over me. "Make me forget." I whispered. "A gease. Or a glamour... I know you can do it. Make me forget tonight so I can go back to hating you."

"Jude-"

"I command you to make me forget." I had lost track of how long I had left controlling Cardan and just hoped with everything in me that he would follow through. "You will make Vivi swear to never tell me. 

"Your deal with my brother, Jude-" 

"You are High King Cardan of the Isles of Elfhame, do you mean to tell me a deal with a dead man is enough to sway your power? I have commanded you Cardan and you will do as I say."

Cardan nodded slowly and looked away from me. "Can I at least stay with you until morning?"

                                                                              ***

I climbed into bed closely followed by Cardan. He wrapped his arms around my waist and scooted his body into mine. His breath was hot against my neck as his chest rose and fell. 

"I'm going to figure it out. Your little trick." I whispered. "I'm going to figure it out for myself. My word isn't worth much but I'll give it to you."

"Your word means everything to me." 

***

The sun streamed through my windows, sending shocks of pain through my head. I grabbed the pillow next to me and smashed it over my face, trying to block out the light.  I breathed through the pillow, breathing in a nostalgic scent I couldn't quite put my finger on.  I heard Vivi bustling around the kitchen through my walls. I heard the hushing of words and the slamming of a door. 

My body groaned as I pushed myself up and I vowed to never drink again. I crept out of my room to see Heather in a slight daze on the couch and Vivi brewing coffee in the kitchen. She turned to look at me, seeming almost shocked that I was awake. 

"Look who it is!" She said, sarcastically. "How's the head?"

"Not great, Viv. Not great." I chuckled softly. "What happened last night?" 

Vivi took a moment, pouring out three black coffees before turning back to meet my gaze. "So you don't remember, huh?" I shook my head, of course I didn't remember. Why else would I have asked. "We lost you in a club, we looked for you but we couldn't find you. Then when we got back home you were asleep in bed."  

"I don't like this... not remembering I mean..." I muttered, taking a sip of my coffee. " Surely I can't have had that much to drink?"

"Like I said, we lost you. We didn't see what happened after that." It struck me that Vivi was choosing her words very carefully,  as if there was something she wasn't telling me. I turned my attention to Heather, who seemed just as confused as I was. 

"Heather. Do you remember what happened last night?" I pressed. "Anything you can tell me about what I was doing?" Her head snapped towards me as if she only just realised I was in the room with her. 

"I don't... I don't remember." She whispered. I crept further into the room as Vivi's cat eyes bored into me. "Why can't I remember?" The room reeked of residual magick, clinging to the air around Heather.  I narrowed my eyes towards Vivi.

"What aren't you telling me?" I demanded. 

"I can't tell you anymore. I didn't see what happened. You don't want to know." It sounded as though she was begging,  begging for a way out of this conversation. "I can't tell you anymore." I looked around the room, searching for clues as to what had happened.  Yes, something magickal had happen. That much was obvious. Thanks to my gease with the late Dain, I couldn't be glamoured but it was awfully convenient that neither Heather or myself could remember a thing.  I was struck with a deep feeling of betrayal, I knew that Heather's words were being cleverly strung together in order to deceive me without outright lying to me. It dawned on me all at once. 

"Who did you make your oath to?" The question seemed to take her by surprise, the shock clear in her flushed cheeks. 

"What?"

"The oath. Who did you swear to?"

"I cant..." She croaked.

I nodded slowly and backed away, trying desperately not to let the anguish show on my face. Heather still seemed dazed, obviously recovering from a glamour of some kind. Possibly binding her to the same secrecy my sister was obliged to. I returned to my room, shaking with rage. How could she swear to keep last night from me? How could she double-cross me like that? It made no sense, it wasn't in her character. I tried to breathe through my fury, to not let it consume me, I found myself laying back on my bed breathing in that distant memory, a smell that reminded me so much of home. 

A long time passed that way, until I heard a knock at my door. "What?" I demanded. The door swung open to reveal Vivi, standing solemn in the opening. 

"I didn't want to swear. I had no choice." She said. 

"We always have choices." I retorted. 

"Not this time." She lingered there, waiting for me to say something. I rolled over, not wanting to look at her for fear of saying something irreparable. "They said it was what you wanted, that you'll figure it out in your own time. We won't be bound any further from that point.  I just hope you can forgive me." 

I thought about it for a long moment. "I'm mad." I whispered, realising immediately how childish and immature I sounded. 

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was in your best interest."  She slapped her hand against the wood of my doorframe.  "Heather asked if she can have her dress back, she really likes that one."

I sat up reluctantly, and hopped off my bed. I searched the floor and in my wardrobe but came up empty. I got down on my hands and knees to check under my bed but still, I could not find it. "That's weird..."

"Is it?" Vivi smirked.    

*******

Epilogue (I guess)

I kiss Cardan softly before climbing out of bed, my nightgown trailing on the floor behind me. I glance over my shoulder at him, sleeping soundly and looking as painfully handsome as ever. He hates how early I rise each day, wishing me to stay curled up next to him for as long as possible. But if he had it his way, Faerie would be left to fend for itself and we would descend into anarchy. 

I sink my feet into the plush, luxurious rug woven by Mother Marrow; it supposedly had a plethora of magickal qualities but Cardan decided it was too delectable to refuse, and make my over to the dressing room. I sigh as I begin rifling through the abundance of regal clothing, searching for something simple. The Court of Shadows requires no façade of grace. 

I hear Cardan stir behind me, turning to look at him I see he is grasping at the sheets trying to feel me out. I snort and stifle a laugh, looking at the ground. My hands continue to trace along the garments until I feel something entirely foreign. Cold and plastic, bright red in colour. I take the dress from it's place and hold it against my body. It's tiny, shiny and definitely not from Elfhame. 

"Oh my god." I shout. Cardan sits bolt upright, brandishing a dagger he must've found under my pillow. 

"Jude!" His voice is panicky. "Jude what's going on?" 

I turn to him, holding the dress at arms length. "What the fuck is this doing here?" 

"I will tell you everything... but you have to promise not to kill me... and maybe put the dress on?"

[flash-exchange]

not my burgers

Characters: Gilbert & Bob Writers: @cheese-ception @lorei-writes @wordycheeseblob Rating: all ages Warnings: burgers Notes: We played Frantic Fanfic in voice chat and decided it was too much fun not to share it. Strap in for the chaos! (3 minutes mode)

Gilbert and Bob were up to no good.

---

Of course, they were. After all, what good would any Bob ever commit to? He's Bob, damn it! A B O B! All Bobs ever do is lean back in their chairs and cackle ominously, and this Bob was no different. To stay true to his kind, he leaned, and he leaned mightily, and he cackled, and he cackled witch-ily.

"So, my liege, what are we plotting to do tonight?"

"World domination, Bob. As always."

---

"Ah. I am pleased" bob retorted with a devilish smile. "You'll get a promotion" "Thank you my liege" "Continue doing your job Gilbert. As long as they thing YOU are the one pulling the strings… That YOU are the emperor" his eyes were looking somewhere further outside the window, observing the stormy clouds brewing above obsidian castle, threatening to spill any minute "ohoho… Let's just say that fool will never win" "You think, genius as he is, he's realised he can't read me at all because someone else is behind them? Gilbert mused absentmindedly eyeing the documents before him "Not a chance" a sinister grin graced Bob's lips. "He'll never get my burgers"

[carcrashingheartsbetweenus]

🖤 Halloween’s here, and it’s time to unleash the dark allure within… 🖤

To all my midnight muses – tonight, we’re not just playing dress-up. We’re stepping into our wicked selves, where cute meets killer and sweet turns sinister. This is our night to haunt the shadows, seduce the dark, and captivate every soul that dares to look our way. 🎈💀

Tonight we bring the thrill of danger and the allure of mystery. Halloween lets us become every fantasy, every nightmare, every powerful thing they fear and crave. 🕸️👠

So, dare to step closer… but remember, once you’re under our spell, there’s no escaping. This is Halloween, and we’re the ones who make it unforgettable. 🖤👻

(*****I DO NOT CLAIM THE RIGHTS TO THESE IMAGES. I AM MERELY A FAN. Feel free to tag yourself or comment if it’s yours.*****)

[chunkypossum]

WIP Wednesday- Couldn't decide what to share today but this feels fitting....

When Even Moonlight Burns

I almost have like... a full chapter for y'all lol....

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

The descent into Hel is paved in cigarette butts and sticky rice.  As quickly as he wanted to get off the street, Eris still paused in front of the doors of the restaurant, painted in a day’s worth of greasy fingerprints, to finish his cigarette. Bright red and blue blazed against the bruised twilight sky in artful cursive, twisted sinister by the failing neon that read, The Hollow; Sushi & Hibachi.  City lights drowned out the entirety of the natural light of the night and all anyone was left with was the harsh, freakish glow, like this one, sputtering as it was. Eris preferred it that way, needed it to be that way. He had been living down in the depths for so long that even though blades could hardly pierce through, moon and starlight penetrated him as if he were made of cobwebs, no more than a memory of silken strength.   The long list of things Eris had found to be grateful for over the years, not so surprisingly, didn't exactly feature a quiet, unassuming existence. Unfortunately that was exactly where he found himself now. The thrill in what he was, demanded pride and exhibition and gods he was good at playing that game. Well, had been good at it. Now, as much as he loathed to admit it, he found an odd satisfaction in the simplicity he had agreed to. That was the catch of course, Eris had agreed to slow down, for now, and even if some nights, like this one, grated on him in an indescribable way, it was still his choice in the end.  He took his second to last drag, the cherry nearly blackening the tips of his frost white fingers as he mused. A brisk wind flew down the lane and loose strands of hair broke away from his half bun in protest to accost his face. Perhaps if he were interested in listening more closely he would have deciphered the warning in the way the bones of the earth spoke to the ancient instincts stirring once again beneath the cage of his ribs. A sign that tonight may prove to be more interesting than he had bargained for. Not in all his years could Eris have guessed precisely how interesting.

Azris Tag list: @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee

[v4bbh]

— cream soda || kim minseok/xiumin

when xiumin rings up baekhyun’s favourite escort and asks her to be his plaything for the night.

prologue only, no exclusive smut. (i might consider writing a part two depending on how well this fic does.)

pairing: idol!xiumin × fem!reader.

genre: first meeting, suggestive.

words: 943

rating: 18+

warnings: contains suggestive but no explicit description of sex, mild dirty talk, escort au.

i bring the straw to my lips, taking an experimental sip of the brightly coloured drink in front of me. sunlight filters through the floor-length café window by which we sit, illuminating the full apples of his cheeks. his long lashes ghost shadows against his soft flesh, and for a moment, i am tempted to treat him like a writer’s muse. he is much like a petal, so delicate and intricately shaped; both in looks and personality. he watches silently, awaiting my reaction, but i am too nervous to procure one.

“how is it?” he asks as the silence stretches longer, bordering on an awkwardness he isn’t willing to attain between us.

“it’s. . . unexpectedly refreshing.” i admit, genuinely taken aback by the taste of the drink he has ordered for me. “i didn’t think i’d like it, but i do. what was the name again?”

he pauses, the corners of his lips twisting in an almost sinister grin as if he knows something i don’t. i shiver, his presence domineering in ways i find mildly amusing. it’s been a while since a man has piqued my curiosity like he has, and i am still trying to figure out whether that is a pro or a con, given our circumstances.

“cream soda. blueberry flavour.”

i take mental note of the name, definitive that i will crave for it once this night is over. perhaps to remember him, if not just for the enticing flavour.

“so,” i approach cautiously, my heart weary of upsetting his in any way. i want to fulfil his every whim and fancy; diligent not to contradict any of his commands. “what is it you’re looking for from me, mr. kim?” fuck, i want to give him everything he ever wants. dangerous territory.

he leans forward, whispering the salacious answer in a low tone, “cream soda.”

it is then that i realise the obscene veiled meaning behind the otherwise innocent drink. i blush profusely, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. his open approach, however unexpected, is something i adore; truth be told, the crude conversation was getting my mind racing places that had wet heat ready to pool between my thighs.

“o—oh. well. . . i can come over later tonight.” i iterate, unsure of how to word my thoughts.

even after months in the escort business, the talk leading up to it is obscurely cumbersome; in all honesty, i would rather he just devour me immediately. skip the logistics and go straight for the pie we were both forestalling.

his piercing grey contacts only add to the beauty of his eyes, forcing me to press my thighs together to keep composure. he’s driving me towards insanity, with absolutely no tether to keep me from falling.

“have you already made prior commitments for this evening?” his voice is pure silk, edging on a sing–song quality that reminds me why he is such a high demand artist in the first place.

“i do not, no.” i push the now empty glass away from me, body language mirroring the interest reflecting in his.

“then allow me to steal you starting now, y/n–ssi.”

i blink, astounded by his unforeseen request. a little skeptical, i perk a brow, unclear of his intentions. my gaze flits over to the wall clock adorning the café, registering the time within a split second.

[ 5:36 pm. ]

early evening, still.

“and what would we do all evening?” i ask dubiously and he chuckles, head shaking, shoulders bouncing in mirth. the sound is clarifying; a blast of sheer chastity after all the indecent conversation we have shared so far.

“date night. i want to dine you, if you will allow it.” i pull back dramatically, admittedly a little over the top for words so simple, but they are sentences rare, if ever, offered to one of my job.

“oh, also, i heard you have an all inclusive package, but i would prefer to pay you by the hour.”

my confusion must be evident on my face, because he laughs again, and this time my heart flutters. it’s these easy moments with him that make him seem almost like a boyfriend. it’s treacherous, how easy he is making it to fall in love with him; i have to constantly fight to remind myself that i am here not to love, rather to fulfil his physical desires.

“you want to pay to feed me? a bill i assume also goes on your tab?” he hums his confirmation, only deepening my perplexation and coy state. “why?”

“because i’ve heard a lot about you, m’lady. baekhyunee speaks rather highly of you.”

and those are the words that steal my breath. a regular customer, it is rather unusual that byun baekhyun has agreed to allow another man to avail my services. he’s always the fondly possessive one, one that takes pride in being able to remind me of my place.

on my knees. in front of him, servicing him.

the memories make my cheeks blossom crimson; an occurrence that doesn’t go unnoticed in the eyes of the older.

“awh”, he coos, eliciting a shiver to run down the length of my spine, “look at you, such a filthy whore. thinking of another man while you’re mine for the night. maybe i should ask him to come over and let him watch?”

it’s pleasantly unexpected; for a man that quiet, kim minseok sure doesn’t mind speaking his piece with respect to his nocturnal activities, and i find that awfully arousing. and that he is threatening to have baekhyun, the one who had landed him my contact in the first place, to watch as he got to have his hands on me? interesting.

things are starting to get riveting, and i find myself engrossed by a blasphemous amount of imagery relating to the same.

kim minseok, you are one sly, sly fox.

and i am coming to love it.

[knightyoomyoui]

The Tale Of The Bloodline | TWICE MiSaMo (Mina, Sana & Momo) x Male Reader- CHAPTER 10 (SPECIAL): “Rise Of The Empire Chief”

In this chapter, there will be no any of the MISAMO trio to feature in here. This special chapter is only to tell the origins of Yuta Nakamoto becoming The Empire Chief and how did his historic title run begun, which led to the foundation of The Bloodline. Oh, and by the way, Your appearance in this story will be ENHYPEN's Park Sunghoon. I chose him because since your role in this story is YN Myoui, who is the twin brother of your older sister Myoui Mina, I based your appearance on being mostly similar to Mina too, and I've seen some contents telling how Mina and Sunghoon look almost like "siblings" because of how similar their features are, so that's why. But I'm not telling you to follow me though; if you're still more comfortable imagining yourself in your role, then I have no problem with it. This is just optional.

PREVIOUSLY ON TTOTB CHAPTER 9: [The Reason Why]...

"Here's what we gonna do. If you still don't work yourself being SHY SHY SHY around Sana again, I'm gonna do something you ain't gonna like." Yuta warned YN who is still couldn't calm himself down from his cackles because of Sana's newly made catchphrase.

"Here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna take that "Honorary" away, and I'm gonna make her our official Bloodline's muse." Yuta said as he points out at Sana's scarf around her neck, with YN now back at being seriousness even though the glimpse of how he surrendered herself from Sana's irresistable effect is still visible.

YN gave Yuta an incomprehensible look, muttering "You can't be serious, cous?!" but Yuta just nodded back at him and points his head. "Use the time well, think wisely."

"Well ladies and gentlemen, I think The Empire Chief has called an end to this segment. Please catch your Empire Chief LIVE and in person from all around the world next time on Friday Night Knockdown." Jinyoung said as he gave his closing remark in regards to The Bloodline, doing a mic drop before the arena played Yuta's theme again.

The show ended with The Bloodline as Yuta walked out on the ring first followed by Jinyoung, Mina, and Momo until YN and Sana were the last ones. Sana gave a cheeky smile on him in which he blushed before quickly rolling his eyes back and ignoring her to hid it away.

AUGUST 20, 2020 | 3 YEARS AGO

The Japan Combat Federation's World Champion Dong Young-bae or better known by his alias Taeyang is making his entrance to the ramp. The titantron, the raging theme, and his aura as he emerges in the arena perfectly congruent altogether to describe the cursing adrenaline and fueled motivation of him to finally finish his last quest.

That, is in the form of his contender, being his 3rd straight match with him, but this time... the opponent is in another persona as a part of his character, which is Taeyang's biggest challenge because this one's is the final form of Shin Dong-hee: a diabolical, merciless, and beastly character.

Shindong is waiting for Taeyang to join him in the ring as he creepily stalked at the corner. Their eyes had contact, and Taeyang never wore such a terrifying expression before that will match to what he's having today.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you guys have a weak stomatch, please turn away... because this is not going to be pretty." Knight warned to the viewers. "Dong Taeyang and "The Sinister" Shin Donghee finally clash here tonight at Superslam."

Taeyang enters the ring, leaps at the ropes and stares down a hole at Shindong before doing his taunt and proudly showed the golden telt in his grasp.

"Taeyang promised to show the world the evil son of a bitch they have ever seen before." Kwangsoo reminded. "And now he stands before us as a World Champion tonight."

"This is a Falls Count Anywhere match. That means you pick up the victory in this building, to be out of the street as a matter of fact. Taeyang, Shindong, for the World Championship title." Knight explained the rules to anybody who might have forget how does the stipulation works.

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

5 minutes after the bell rang to officially start the match, the two collided with all their last stored might at one another, sending them all around in the arena.

Taeyang rudely kicks Shindong's face while he is crawling away in the ramp from him. "I've never seen this side of Taeyang before." Knight commented as they continue to watch him assaulting Shindong.

Taeyang picks up Shindong and threw him to the LED screen of the entrance way. "C'mon, Shinister!", he mocked as he weakly kicked his face then bounced his head on the screen.

Both went to the curtain, Taeyang punches Shindong leading him inside to the backstage area where the producers monitoring the match left and gave space for the two behemoths to proceed hurting each other while sparing theirselves from harm.

Taeyang fires a blow on Shindong's stomatch before attempting to lift him up for a powerslam but the latter refuses and fights back, pummeling Taeyang with multiple arm hits on the spine.

The two exchanged hits until Shindong took the advantage and threw Taeyang into the wall, shoulder and arm first on the bump. Shindong grabbed him again and he drove him on the other side of the wall after.

Shindong positioned Taeyang to prepare executing his finishing manoever, the Kiss Of Death where he kisses his opponent's forehead first before he rotates along with the head, slamming the face backwards straight at the ground.

He perfectly performed it, putting Taeyang unconscious for good. "That's gotta be it. No one's getting up from that." Kwangsoo reacted.

"And the cover now by The Shinister to win the Japan World Championship"

"1...2..."

Taeyang swayed his arm away, lifting his shoulder up to break the count and kick out at two. Shindong sat beside his beatened foe, and maniacally laughs at how Taeyang is determined to hold on and willing to take more pain just so he could submit once and for all under his hellish brute power.

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

Another 5 minutes have passed, Shindong and Taeyang's fight returned to the ring. Taeyang who is now leading the match under his control, is carrying Shindong's body over his shoulder to attempt for a second repeat of his own finisher, a running powerslam.

He ran, turned, jumped and drilled Shindong's body down on the mat. He hooked his leg and the referee began to count. "1...2..." but Shindong kicked out again.

"And if you're Taeyang you're gonna start wondering what the hell do I need to do to keep The Shinister down?" Knight stated as the camera flashes at Taeyang with bloody head muttering something out of rage in which it urged him to hammer fist Shindong's face repeatedly before screaming in anger on his front.

Taeyang rolled out of the ring and slowly walked around the ringside before he noticed something on the floor. A laid out opened toolbox with its contents scattered. He squatted and picked up a sharp object as he stared at it with fascination.

With a cruel idea, he reentered the ring and guards Shindong who is still down. He kneeled  on the vacant space and looked at the sharp object around his hand as he lets out a frightening laugh.

"The hell is Taeyang gonna do with a damn box cutter?" Knight confusedly asked before the answer was thrown at him when Taeyang started to slice through the mat of the ring.

"Taeyang is exposing the wood inside the ring." Kwangsoo replied as Taeyang spreads and tears off the thin foam and the canvas away to make the wood surface visible.

After he finished doing a little work to assist his plans, he turned around only to see a fully recovered Shindong standing and staring intimidatingly at him.

Taeyang immediately charges at Shindong but he catches him, hooking his arm around and squashes him down with a urinagi straight into the exposed ring area.

He wasn't done yet, as the tables suddenly  flipped, Shindong snatches the opportunity where he grabs the critically damaged Taeyang and sets him up again for a Kiss Of Death on the woodened surface in which he did succeed.

"Wait what? The Shinister isn't done yet?" Knight was baffled and even Kwangsoo as they thought Shindong is going to pin Taeyang already but it looks like the monster isn't finished yet with his agenda.

Shindong positioned Taeyang again on his hold, head locked around thd arm for another Kiss Of Death on the wood.

He finally covers Taeyang's completely knock- outed body and the referee counts. "1...2...3."

The bell rang on the signal and the timekeeper handed the world title belt on the referee as the entrance theme of Shindong played across the interior of the arena.

"Here is your winner and the NEW Japan Combat Federation World Champion, "The Shinister" Shin Donghee!!!" ring announcer Song Jihyo yelled into the microphone to declare the win for the brand new victorious champion.

"The Shinister is a champion again." Knight acknowledged Shindong's second world title run after winning it last year in 2019.

"Once more, darkness reigns over the Federation." Kwangsoo said. Shindong snatches the championship belt away from the hands of the referee who is presenting it in front of him.

He slowly rose from his feet and exhaustedly stood to raise his arms up with the belt in his hand to celebrate his another achievement before he sensed something danger coming against him.

He glanced at the side and the entire world went stunned when a familiar person appeared on the scene, tackling Shindong down with an emphatic spear before aggressively punching him in the head.

"What the- who the hell?!"

"You know who the hell is he!"

"OH MY GOD IT'S YUTA NAKAMOTO!!! THE GUARDIAN OF NCTIZEN IS BACK, AND HE'S BEATING THE HELL OUT OF THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION!!!" Knight exclaimed as they keep on witnessing the returning Yuta Nakamoto in action after being on a hiatus for months due to suffering from a virus infection since 2020 was when the pandemic started and spreads out around the globe, affecting all the people in every different countries.

All the fans watching that were visible on the screens provided as a temporary replacement for the arena's set-up during the pandemic were all making the different shapes of reaction to Yuta's return: shock, disapproval, and hype.

"And now he's got his eyes set on The Punisher!" Knight said as Yuta glanced at the weakened Taeyang on the ringside. He rolled out at the other side and starts to run towards at Taeyang to unleash a massive spear into his midsection.

"DID YOU TWO SERIOUSLY FORGOTTEN ABOUT ME?!" Yuta asked, talking to both Shindong and Taeyang who were taken out by him. He looked down at Taeyang laid on his feet. "I MADE YOU! DON'T ACT LIKE YOU'RE THE BIGGEST THREAT AS LONG AS I'M HERE!"

Yuta went to the timekeeper's area and grabbed a steel chair with him which he used to brutally smash it on Taeyang's back and his left arm.

"Yuta Nakamoto is mangling the chair out of the fallen body of Dong Taeyang!" Kwangsoo said.

Yuta threw away the chair bended in half and went back in the ring to set his sight on target at Shindong crawling in fours. He stood at the corner and prepares himself to create another attack on the champion.

"The Shinister, the World Champion has no idea what's going on. He has no idea where he's at. He was blindsided by Nakamoto moments ago." Knight said as they all wait for Shindong to realize the pain he's about to take.

Yuta charged and speared Shindong again for the second time. He stood up and fixed his shirt as he breathes out the effects of the impact he showed tonight.

"Yuta Nakamoto is back with an empathic statement."

Yuta observed something beside the unconscious Shindong. The golden belt in the ground, he grabbed it and admiringly looked at it as he switches his gaze to the current holder of it.

"What is this? You think you can handle the responsibility?" Yuta asks Shindong as he threatens him while holding the belt. "So this is what's all for, huh? No. You're just a freak, out of your mind. I'm the man. I'm the guy, I'm the one."

The show ended with Yuta Nakamoto officially makes his return back in Japan Combat Federation as Shindong's new challenger for the World Championship in which everyone didn't see that coming.

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

AUGUST 28, 2020 | 1 WEEK LATER

The general manager of both main rosters, Monday Night War and Friday Night Knockdown Bang Sihyuk knocks on the door thrice to drew the attention of the occupant inside.

"Yuta, it's me Bang Sihyuk!" he exclaimed. Not having any responses by receiving a "get in!" signal or the door opening for him, Sihyuk had no other choice but to do it by himself, muttering "Alright, then" under his breath.

He entered the locker room, meeting Yuta inside who is organizing his things. "Oh thank God you're here, I was looking for you everywhere."

He opened the folder, showing the paper content inside of it to Yuta. "Here's the official contract for your Triple Threat match at Retribution."

"Let's see this thing."

"I'll show it to you."

Sihyuk handed the ballpen to Yuta but he didn't grabbed it from him. "I'm gonna check this out first with someone. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Go. Sure, take your time." Sihyuk nodded before he left the locker room. Yuta picks up his phone and made a phone call, informing somebody that he finally received it and got updated in return that "he" is on his way now in the arena.

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

Two matches has passed for tonight's show, Sihyuk decided to check over Yuta regarding the contract signing.

He entered his locker room again, and in his surprise, he recognized a very familar individual sitting beside Yuta on the couch.

"A-are you done, now?" Sihyuk asks Yuta who is reading the contract.

He massaged his chin, pursed his lips and popped it before he speaks. "Let me tell you this, I want you to fix the changes that I need. I assure you right now, I will be on Retribution this Sunday. That is a promise." Yuta said to Sihyuk who is switching looks to him and the other person with them in the room.

"I will be in the Triple Threat match, destroy everyone and vanish. That's a guarantee, and I will win back the World Championship that I never lost in the FIRST PLACE." Yuta added, referring to his previous reign that was unfortunately cut short with regards to his health condition where he was forced to vacate the title as a consequence for taking a time off away from the company.

"And that's not just a prediction..." He turns his head to the side, now his and Sihyuk's attention are both glued at this mysterious person making the general manager distracted. Grinning from ear to ear, he looked back at Sihyuk to end his statement.

"... that's a spoiler."

The camera's frame widens, revealing the identity of the man, who is none other than one of the most legendary managers in pro-wrestling and combat entertainment history who held many iconic fighters that ever stepped foot in the industry, Park Jinyoung.

He leans forward to make his words clearer to hear for Sihyuk. "Believe. That."

Him and Yuta looked at each other with an interesting smirk as they nod their heads, teasing everyone who is watching at their homes about their newly formed affiliation.

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

AUGUST 30, 2020 | 2 DAYS LATER

Japan Combat Federation held their Retribution pay-per-view in Hokkaido. The show's main-event features the Triple Threat match which includes the rivals Dong Taeyang, "The Shinister" Shin Donghee, and Yuta Nakamoto who is making his first match since his months-length of absence.

Strangely enough, the match started with only Taeyang and Shindong present in the ring when the referee signalled for the bell to rang immediately as Taeyang plowed Shindong to the back of his neck while he was performing his entrance in the ring.

They forgot about Yuta supposedly to be included also in the match, and it proceeded instead with only Taeyang and Shindong fighting each other off for the World Championship.

"Taeyang going after at The Shinister, still upset after what happened last week."

Taeyang ran through Shindong and collided his body on him at the corner before lifting him all over and slam him down on the mat.

He made a quick cover, looking to end the champion earlier than expected. "1...2..." but Shindong kicks out.

Taeyang just laughs at the toughness of Shindong until the latter just stood back up like a possessed madman, only to be caught when Taeyang drives him to the turnbuckle and deliver some right hand shots and headbutts before he tries to splash him again on the corner.

However, Shindong finally manages to prevent the Punisher by blocking him with a crossbody, two heavyweights involved in a collision.

Shindong stalks Taeyang who is groaning in pain. He sets him up for a Kiss of Death and he nailed it. A cover was made "1...2..." but Taeyang kicks out.

Taeyang crawls out of the ring. Shindong pursues the challenger but Taeyang caught him with a choke, then a knee to the stomach and elbow shots at the back. He was about to smash his head on the edge of the ring but Shindong counters, taking his turn to attack with his own hits and returns the attempt back at Taeyang, bouncing his head off at the ring.

The two titans continues to apply pain at ond another. Shindong wraps Taeyang and performs a urinagi slam to him right through the announce table as it exploded on the impact.

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

Their grueling and intense fight created a slightly similar feel to their match back at Superslam when both of them were now brawling at each other around the ring.

Shindong punches Taeyang on the stomach and sets him up again for another Kiss Of Death but on the steel ramp this time but Taeyang was able to block him with a headbutt to the forehead, escaping from his possession.

He punches Shindong on the face. Noticing that he is now standing at the end of the stage, Taeyang did an unbelievable spot by pouncing at Shindong and send theirselves crashing through the tables stacked below.

"We anticipated chaos and destruction, but these two have no bounds." Kwangsoo said.

Taeyang slowly gets off from Shindong's side and continues to hammer his fists around his face. He stands up and leaned at one of the equipment machines for the stages to heavily breath off his exhaustion caused by the ongoing battle.

Afte resting a little, he pulls Shindong's hair upwards and carried him all the way back in the ring.

Taeyang climbs at the top rope, looking to fly and land through Shindong to apply more damage but the immortal-like ability of Shindong assists him to recover eventually and fires an uppercut at Taeyang's face.

Shindong joins Taeyang on the turnbuckles and proceeded to attack him.

"These two entities, these two monsters climbing at the top of the ring."

"There's a great deal of humanity in the ring ropes even though neither of these were close to being a human"

Shindong clutches Taeyang's head around his arm and sets him up on the corner before performing a superplex to the top rope, and in everybody's bewilderment and amusement, the ring collapses at the massive impact it took.

"Oh my goodness, The Shinister has Taeyang in position for a superplex! O-OH MY GOD!"

"WHAT THE HELL! THE RING IMPLODED!" Knight and Kwangsoo reacted in utter awe as they watched the ring bounce and deconstruct. The posts bended, the ropes untangled, the referee was yeeted out of the ring, both fighters down in the destroyed battleground.

The arena then played Yuta's entrance theme, alarming everyone who might've forgotten already that Yuta is still included in the match. "And at this moment, with both men down. Here comes the Guardian of NCTizen, with Park Jinyoung in tow."

Yuta with a steel chair in hand emerged along with Jinyoung holding the contract for him. He took out the ballpen and gave it to Yuta for him to sign the contract.

Yuta starts to march in the ramp with steel chair in his hand as a weapon, completely legal based on the No Holds Barred rules.

He entered the collapsed ring, rolled Shindong around to pin him but he noticed that no referee was present anymore. He commanded one from backstage to get out and substitute.

One listened and runs through the ring to count. "1...2..." It's too late as Shindong kicks out at two, much in Yuta's disbelief.

He shook his head, then proceeded to hook Shindong's leg again for another cover. "1...2..." and a kick out still.

Yuta panics. He decided to switch to Taeyang and cover. "1....2..." but yet also, the Punisher is still holding on to his strength.

He figures out what to do next. He grabs again the steel chair that he left on the ringside and starts smashing it on Taeyang's back repeatedly.

Yuta pins Taeyang again, thinking it might finally work "1...2.." but still, it wasn't enough as Taeyang refuses to stay down.

Yuta confusedly looked at Taeyang and wondering why is he still fighting with everything he can when he knew he's losing the advantage of the match.

He tried to attack Shindong next with a steel chair but it prevented Yuta when he chokes him out with a mandible claw manouvre stuffing his fingers down into Yuta's throat only to receive a low blow on his crotch.

Him enduring the pain sends him rolling out of the ring. Yuta covers his mouth to ease the pain that he felt on that part before ficusing back on the action, setting himself on the corner as he eyed Taeyang slowly getting up back to his knees.

As Taeyang rotates, Yuta engaged a spear to him, putting him down. He covered Taeyang for the third and final time.

"1...2...3."

The referee signalled for the bell and Yuta's entrance theme played. "Here is your winner and the NEW Japan Combat Federation World Champion, Yuta Nakamoto!!!"

Jinyoung laughs and applauds for Yuta on the stage as he watches him being presented by the golden belt. Yuta grabs it and accepts the declaration by the referee to raise his arm in victory.

"Nakamoto regaining the title he never lost." Knight said at the aftermath of the main event.

"Listen, Yuta did exactly what he filed to do but I don't think Yuta even expected it to do this way. It doesn't matter anyway, because we got a brand new World Champion!"

"But wait, Kwangsoo. What about the way Yuta did this? He waited for the opportunity. He walked down here, signed the contract on the way to the ring..."

"...exactly what Yuta said he's going to do. Destroy everyone and vanish."

The show ended with Yuta approaching Jinyoung praising him for his title win, marking the beginning of his historic championship reign in the main roster of Japan Combat Federation.

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

SEPTEMBER 4, 2020 | 5 DAYS LATER

For this week's episode of Friday Night Knockdown, the brand new World Champion Yuta Nakamoto and Park Jinyoung are both scheduled to appear tonight for a segment, to address everyone and explain about their relationship.

Yuta with his golden belt around his shoulder, standing beside Jinyoung with a usual microphone in his hand fitting for his expertise.

"Just when you thought I was out, HE... pulled me back in." Jinyoung starts his speech, pointing his finger at Yuta staring seriously at one of the cameras recording them live.

"Oh please, don't make fools out of yourselves and embarass yourselves pointing your accusatory fingers at me for corrupting him, because I assure you... HE is corrupting ME."

"Let me ask you a question, what happened to the thank yous, the appreciation to all the selfish executive decisions through life-threatening illneses this man has delivered?"

"Let me tell you this one time, so you can get this into your thick unappreciative skulls. Ladies and gentlemen, my name... is Park Jinyoung, and I serve as the special adviser for YOUR Empire Chief, YOUR reigning, defending, undisputed World Heavyweight Champion... Yuta Nakamoto.", Jinyoung said, announcing to everyone his role in Yuta's life while introducing a new side into the man's entire personality.

He handed the microphone to Yuta, while he remained behind and watch him patiently.

"I'm a man of my word." Yuta speaks out his message. "I did exactly what I was about to do in Retribution. I signed the contract, I destroyed Shindong, I destroyed Taeyang and I left as your World Heavyweight Champion."

"At Battle Of The Champions, I don't care who I am gonna face. Monster or man, watch them get enslaughtered by me because THIS IS MY TERRITORY."

"And when you have this kind of power, all you have to do... is show up and win."

After they ended the segment, they walked through the backstage to make their leave on the arena. In the middle of their way, Yuta plastered a grin on his face as he get to crossed paths with one of his cousins, YN Myoui who is clapping his hands loud enthusiastically.

"OH YES SIRRR! LOOK WHO IT IS!" YN shakes hand with Yuta. "WELCOME BACK, THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION!"

He waved at Jinyoung who nodded and smiled at him. "Oh man, you really made our family proud! Yo, I've been texting you for a whole week, man. What were you up to?"

"I'm sorry, man. I was busy, alright?"

He commanded Jinyoung to go first and prepare the car for him.

"Can I ask you something, man?"

"What is it?"

"What's with you and JYP?" He asked intriguingly with a mix of doubt in his tone. "After all he'd put you in, bro? You trust him?"

"Wait, don't worry. I know, okay. I got it under control", Yuta calms down YN, understanding his point knowing that Jinyiung has been once a manager of some of his previous best rivals throughout his career.

"Everything is all in line, just let me handle this okay?"

"If you need somebody to watch your back, you know I got you. Always."

"I know. I love you, man but I have to go." Yuta bid his farewell to his cousin who still has a match upcoming for tonight.

"Okay. See ya!" He watches Yuta walk away, but he just remembered something when Yuta was already quite far away from him already."

"Wait, yo! Wanna grab some steak with me after the show ends?"

As expected, Yuta couldn't hear his invitation anymore.

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

Jinyoung received a notification from his phone while he is in the middle of driving.

He tapped the screen to check, the information displayed on it.

As he quickly reads it to maintain his focus more on the road, he blinked his eyes rapidly when he understood what the update is sharing.

"Uhm, sir..." he called at Yuta who is busy playing a game on his phone.

"What?"

"Did you know that YN had a match earlier tonight?"

"No." Yuta answered. "He did?"

"Yes sir."

"What's the match and the result?"

Jinyoung cleared his throat before speaking as he wasn't sure what his Empire Chief would feel about this.

"Mr. Sihyuk organized a Fatal 4-Way match earlier with the winner to be the number one contender and your first challenger for your World Championship at Battle Of The Champions-

"Yeah, I knew that he will." Yuta replied, interrupting his sentence. He then furrowed his eyebrows and paused the game. "Wait, so YN is in the match?"

"Y-Yes, sir...

... and he won the match too."

Yuta slowly raised his head and stared at the reflection of the nervous Jinyoung in the rearview mirror as his reaction to the unexpected information that was given to him.