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chiqelatasblog · 18 days

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In the Middle Of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Two is here.

-> Part Four is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x You, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x You, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x You

Author’s Note : This chapter spans over 12,000 words as Kuai Liang unravels his story, and I’m quite pleased with the result. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. However, I want to provide a heads-up about a couple of sensitive topics covered in this chapter: food deprivation and references to past sexual abuse.

These burning flames, these crashing waves,

Wash over me like a hurricane.

I'll captivate, you're hypnotized,

Feel powerful, but it's me again.

CHAPTER THREE : KUAI LIANG

Kuai Liang had protected his heart well throughout his life.

He had learned to control his powers at a very young age. Compared to his older brother, he was more capable of destroying powers and creating serious dangers instantly if left unchecked. Hence, he had to master the art of composure and patience, ensuring his emotions remained tempered. As a pyromancer, fire was less forgiving than ice; even a small mishap could have serious consequences and quickly destroy whatever stood in its way.

As the Grandmaster’s son, Kuai Liang shouldered heavier responsibilities within their clan due to the hierarchical structure. This framework not only limited his interactions but also instilled a fear of accidentally harming others with his powers. Despite his efforts to erect emotional barriers for the safety of those around him, he struggled internally and envied his brothers. Unlike him, Bi-Han always has an intimidating aura around him, his icy powers reflecting his demeanor as he effortlessly distanced himself from others. In contrast, Tomas initially grappling with the loss of his own family, he eventually warmed up to others, radiating a friendly and approachable demeanor.

As they were sealed inside the book, they found themselves drifting apart. Bi-Han grew colder, even to him, while Tomas’s once bright eyes dimmed, reminiscent of the day they discovered him at the clan borders, drenched in the blood of his family, wearing a vacant expression. Kuai Liang became the conduit between his brothers, as the curse slowly consumed them from within.

Especially when she summoned them, that’s when everything spiraled downward. Kuai Liang didn’t realize the depth of their descent until they were already submerged in it, despite having endured so much already.

‘‘I told them that you could satisfy them, Kuai Liang. There are only five of them, you’re not going to mislead me, are you? I’m sure you’ll get over it.’’

His master’s hands rested on his shoulders, her lustily muffled breath tickling his ear, while Kuai Liang endeavored to remain still, his expression carefully blank. Standing naked before a vast, round bed swathed in luxurious satin sheets, he felt a prickling sensation crawl across his skin under the scrutinizing gaze of the small group gathered before him. The room glowed with the warm flicker of candles of various sizes, their dancing flames casting intricate patterns on the walls. A crackling fire burned in the nearby fireplace, its radiant heat almost overwhelming him, despite fire being his element. The intense warmth caused his skin to feel hot and sweaty, everything feeling too much at the moment.

The group, nestled on dark red satin sheets, observed him with a mix of curiosity and hunger, their whispers filling the air with anticipation. The heavy scent of aphrodisiac permeated the room, emanating from the candles—a deliberate attempt to set the mood, given Kuai Liang’s inability to do so himself.

Leilani, his master, coiled the chain of his collar around her fingers, the cold metal sending a shiver down his spine as she obediently lowered his head. She captured his lower lip between her teeth, biting down with a force that bordered on painful, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Despite the discomfort, he remained stoic, his gaze unwavering as blood trickled down to his chin in a thin stream. A smirk of pleasure adorned Leilani’s lips as she licked the blood smeared on his lip with the tip of her tongue, savoring the metallic tang, before delicately tracing the blood trail on his chin with soft, deliberate licks.

“Don’t embarrass me, slave,” she remarked coldly.

As Kuai Liang managed to open his eyes with a ragged breath, everything appeared blurry at first. He felt a faint coolness on his forehead, his body weighed down by an unbearable ache in every muscle. With teeth clenched in pain, he struggled to regain focus.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” a soft, unfamiliar voice reached his ears, distinct from the nightmare he had just endured. Despite the heaviness of his eyelids, Kuai Liang managed to blink them open. As his vision cleared, your figure came into view. Whatever expression crossed his face, you spoke in a gentle, understanding tone.

“It’s okay, Kuai Liang. You’re safe, you’re in my house, remember?”

Your words triggered images to flood into his mind. He was out of the book, but when? How long had he been lying like this? His body throbbed with pain, suggesting he had been immobile for some time.

“Your throat must be quite dry. Wait, I’ll get you some water.”

Kuai Liang propped himself up with his elbows, wincing at the protest of his aching muscles. He watched as you poured water into a glass from a nearby jug and carefully sat down beside him.

“Here, let me put a pillow behind you to make you more comfortable.”

As you placed a pillow to support his back, Kuai Liang drew a deep breath, finally able to sit upright. Even this simple movement caused his muscles to rebel. Silently, you handed him the glass of water to drink. Kuai Liang grasped the cup with his numb fingers, feeling a surge of life as the cool water flowed down his parched throat. He finished the water in one go, thirst quenched like a desert traveler finding an oasis. When you refilled the glass and offered it again, he drank more slowly this time, savoring the refreshing liquid. Once his mouth felt moist enough to speak, Kuai Liang asked in a hoarse, wheezy voice, unused to speaking after days of silence.

“How many days have I been in bed?”

“It’s been a week,” you said in a kind voice, refilling his glass with water for the third time. Kuai Liang’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“A week?”

“Yes, your brothers tried not to show it, but they were worried about you,” you said with a sweet smile. “But they had complete faith in you that you would get through this.”

“Where are they?” Kuai Liang asked as he took another sip from the glass. The water felt like medicine, satiating the last embers of fever that had spread from his lungs to his entire body, gradually calming him down.

“Bi-Han went out until about an hour ago. Tomas is sleeping in the living room.”

Kuai Liang couldn’t be sure he had heard the last part correctly. Tomas? Sleeping? How was this possible? Since the day they were sealed in the book, Tomas had always struggled to fall asleep. He fought insomnia, afraid of returning to the eternal darkness, and tried to cope by taking short naps whenever he could. Hearing that he was sleeping now didn’t sound convincing to Kuai Liang at all.

“Of his own accord?” Kuai Liang said, his voice filled with doubt and disbelief. Despite his frown, his expression remained composed. There was an understanding in your gaze, indicating you comprehended his reaction.

“Yes, it’s quite early for him to wake up, but if you want to see him, I can wake him up.”

“No, there’s no need.” Kuai Liang quickly opposed the idea. If Tomas managed to sleep, he wouldn’t want to disturb him. He knew how rare this situation was and wanted his brother to take advantage of it.

“Are you hungry? I made you some porridge so you could eat comfortably. I can heat it up and bring it if you want.”

Though Kuai Liang was once again surprised, he tried not to let it show too much on his face. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a sign of his guard being raised. Had you prepared a meal for him, Kuai Liang wondered? The notion seemed as peculiar as Tomas managing to sleep. The only logical explanation he could muster was that you intended to ask for something in return for the food. After all, he had been bedridden for a week, too weak to follow orders. Ironically, it only took a simple command from you to spur him into action. You didn’t need to prepare anything in exchange. Yet, it was easier this way—to diminish their pride, as many masters before you had relished doing.

Despite having woken up, Kuai Liang’s body still felt weak. It was a challenge for him to muster the strength to prepare something for himself in order to regain his energy. Upon waking, his stomach stirred, reminding him of how hungry he truly was. With a metabolism faster than that of a normal person, he often found himself needing to consume more food. His old masters had exploited this trait, subjecting him to hunger tests and various trials to gauge his endurance. Through those experiences, Kuai Liang had learned the limits of hunger all too well.

“If you don’t like porridge, I can make soup or something different,” you said, your voice slightly faltering with the lengthening silence. Realizing Kuai Liang hadn’t answered, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and spoke hesitantly, choosing his words carefully.

“The porridge is fine. I prefer to eat it cold… I believe I’m warmed enough.’’

Your face unexpectedly brightened at his answer, and you stood up, a smile returning to your face.

“Great! Wait here, I’ll be right back. I’m sure you’ll feel better after eating.”

As you quickly left the room, Kuai Liang remained where he was leaning, trying to make sense of what had just happened. His tired gaze wandered around the room, realizing he wasn’t in the living room. It was your bedroom, filled with your personal belongings. Despite the open window airing the room, there was a faint, vaguely sweet smell that defined you, a scent he could only describe as feminine.

His gaze shifted to the thin blanket half pulled over him. As his fingers grazed the fabric, he tried to remember how he got here, but his memories were blurred. He could barely recall the conversations with Tomas and Bi-Han. All he could do was try to hold himself together at the moment. He felt as if he were burning with such intensity that he thought he would be reduced to ashes. While the fire consumed his body, he hadn’t experienced such a severe one before. He had never lost consciousness, although it always took him a long time to fully come to his senses after emerging from the book, unlike his brothers.

As you re-entered, Kuai Liang was snapped out of his thoughts, watching as you handed him the tray with a kind smile.

“Here you go, I hope you like it.”

Kuai Liang steadied the tray on his lap, gradually quelling the tremors in his hands. His gaze fell upon the bowl of porridge, its steam rising in wisps, teasing his nostrils with its warmth. His stomach clenched with a pang of hunger, urging him to devour the meal. With each passing moment, the gnawing sensation intensified, Kuai Liang dipped his spoon into the porridge to alleviate the relentless ache.

The porridge was cold, as you hadn’t heated it up as he requested and it was exactly what his body needed. With the first spoonful, he was taken aback by its unexpected deliciousness. While porridge was typically bland and unremarkable to him, the one you made was surprisingly rich in flavor. The chicken broth mingled seamlessly with the rice, enhanced by the spices you added, making it not only palatable but enjoyable to eat.

“Kuai Liang,” you chuckled softly, your voice triggering a strange sensation in his stomach, distinct from hunger. Turning his gaze to you, he was met with your gentle expression. “You should eat slowly. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten, and you’ll make your stomach uncomfortable at this rate. There’s a pot full of porridge still, so don’t worry.”

As the food settled in his stomach, Kuai Liang finished his mouthful and took a sip of water before speaking. Thankfully, his bronze skin hid the faint warmth creeping into his cheeks at your words. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this hungry; it was as if his strength would ebb away entirely if he didn’t eat, as if the gnawing feeling in his stomach would consume his entire body.

Due to his fast metabolism, he had to eat constantly to survive and keep his body fit and agile. His previous masters had exploited this weakness, subjecting him to tests of endurance. He was a fighter, refusing to surrender without a struggle. Over time, Kuai Liang had learned to endure hunger for extended periods, gritting his teeth against the relentless pain in his stomach.

One of the perpetual side effects of the book was to maintain their physical appearance, like a perfect gift always on display. Despite the hardships they faced, their bodies remained unchanged from when they were first sealed in the book. Their skin remained firm and devoid of signs of aging, while their muscles remained taut and defined.

Though he felt powerless due to the lack of proper nourishment, Kuai Liang avoided showing weakness to the outside world, especially to the master of the book at the time. His brothers had been his biggest support. While Bi-Han and Tomas often shared their food with him, Kuai Liang initially tried to refuse their help. Ultimately, they all needed sustenance to endure and find a solution to their nightmare. Even though Bi-Han could go days without eating, Kuai Liang didn’t want him to endure the same deprivation.

“Thank you,” Kuai Liang said after a while. “That’s enough for me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows revealed your disbelief. “You’ve been sleeping for days, Kuai Liang. From what I’ve learned from your brothers, considering your metabolic rate, you need to eat at least four servings from that bowl, not to mention your body size. If you don’t like it, I can make something else, but you definitely need to eat. I don’t want you walking around hungry.” you insisted, your voice laced with concern.

Kuai Liang probably looked at you with surprise, though he managed to conceal it on his face. What? Your innocent tone and facial expression seemed to support each other seamlessly. Obviously, you didn’t know anything about his past, and he didn’t expect his brothers to say anything about it. You hadn’t ordered them to gather any information either.

“No, the porridge is fine, thank you,” Kuai Liang tried to smoothly continue. “Can I have more?”

“Of course!” Your smile widened, your whole face lighting up with joy as if the sun had risen upon you. Kuai Liang felt that strange ache again as he looked at you. “I thought you’d never ask!”

***

After Kuai Liang finished all the food in the pot and took a cold shower, he felt refreshed. His body was free from the days’ accumulated sweat, his stubble shaved, and his hair pulled back neatly. It was a strange feeling to have a full stomach, having forgotten what it felt like. Yet, there was a sense of peace within him. A weight had lifted, quieting the constant alertness that had consumed him for so long.

Arriving at the entrance of the living room, Kuai Liang encountered Bi-Han in the narrow hallway. His brother scrutinized him in silence from head to toe, assessing if he was well enough to stand.

“You look well,” said Bi-Han, his voice barely audible. “Do you feel as well as you look?”

“Yes, brother,” Kuai Liang replied, forcing a small smile to accompany his words. “How are you and Tomas? Was there anything I missed in a week?”

Bi-Han fell silent for a moment, nodding towards the study room adjacent to the bedroom. Kuai Liang followed his brother quietly into the room, and Bi-Han closed the door behind them, lowering his voice despite its depth.

“Tomas has begun to lose himself to the woman,” Bi-Han’s words filled the room with an icy chill. Kuai Liang observed his brother’s stern expression, which conveyed his displeasure with the situation. Despite their painful past and Tomas’s training as an assassin by the Lin Kuei, his inherent naivety had persisted, a trait Kuai Liang had always found unique. His brother lacked a judgmental nature, easily believing whatever he was told.

Since their time in the book, Tomas had changed like the rest of them. Whoever became the master of the book, Tomas obeyed them almost flawlessly, swiftly fulfilling orders and expectations. Kuai Liang soon understood why – it was the same as when he was trying to adhere to the Lin Kuei. He had no choice but to comply in order to survive in this new world where he didn’t know the rules. Yet, there was one person who made Tomas hesitate, offering a glimmer of hope in their dark world and suggesting that the cycle could be broken.

“How so?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“You heard me.” Bi-Han replied.

“Like what happened with Leilani?”

“It may be even worse than that,” Bi-Han snarled, his face contorting with rage at the mention of their old master’s name. ‘’The speed at which she’s manipulated him is unprecedented.”

“How is that possible? Tomas was cautious after what happened.”

“You haven’t spent time with the woman. She offers him everything he desires, and he willingly accepts. They’re always together, laughing, touching, kissing. It’s all by his own consent.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“You know how long it took him to recover after Leilani. If this woman can make this much progress in a week, imagine what will happen when we return to the book in three months.”

“Wait a minute,” Kuai Liang tried to digest the information, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. “She told me that… Is it true that Tomas is sleeping of his own accord?’’

“Yes,” Bi-Han confirmed, his anger palpable.

‘’Damn it,” Kuai Liang muttered, running a hand over his head in frustration. All three of them harbored an aversion to darkness, but for Tomas, it went beyond mere dislike—it was pure loathing. He avoided closing his eyes for extended periods and fought against sleep as much as possible. The fact that he could now sleep next to you, in his most vulnerable state, only heightened Bi-Han’s concerns. Tomas had never revealed this side to anyone, not even to the master of all the books that had come and gone, except Leilani. Yet, even Leilani took a considerable amount of time to witness this aspect, setting a new record compared to their previous experiences.

“I’ve been constantly warning him to get it into his thick head and not trust the woman, but he doesn’t listen to me. Go talk to him, try to stop him from getting any more attached. Maybe your moderate approach will ring a bell for him.”

“If the situation is as serious as you say, brother, I don’t think Tomas will listen to me either.”

“Well, what shall we do then? Shall we allow his feelings to be manipulated, humiliated, and used again? We’ve been through this once, Kuai Liang, and I swore it wouldn’t happen again,” Bi-Han’s voice was as cold and harsh as winter itself, his demanding gaze piercing through him like a blade.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Taking another deep breath, Kuai Liang exited the room, silently following the voices until he reached the entrance of the living room. Both of you were engrossed in examining a pile of books on the kitchen island, your conversation too hushed for him to make out. However, judging by the expressions on your faces, you appeared to be in good spirits. Shifting his focus entirely to his brother, Kuai Liang comprehended Bi-Han’s concerns more clearly.

There was a calmness in Tomas’s expression that Kuai Liang hadn’t seen in a long time, almost peaceful. It was a departure from his usual artificial and distant smile, a sign of his increasing pessimism over the years. Despite his youth, his face carried a weight beyond his years, rivaling even Bi-Han’s gloominess.

The way he’s watching you now, with one hand casually supporting his chin and a subtle smile playing on his lips, rather than being absorbed in the book before him, is very different from what he’s used to. He would never have imagined it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Seeing his brother carefree and relaxed, just like old times, filled Kuai Liang with concern instead of contentment. Bi-Han was right; Tomas had gotten carried away with you, and from what he observed, the situation was much more serious than he thought.

“Do you understand what I mean now?” Bi-Han’s voice came from right behind him, close enough for Kuai Liang to feel his cool breath on his neck. Kuai Liang didn’t say anything. After silently nodding in agreement, he stepped in, and you both snapped out of the peaceful bubble you had created upon noticing his arrival.

“Kuai Liang, good morning! I heard you were up, but you were in the shower when I got up. How do you feel? Are you better?” Tomas greeted him in a somewhat cheerful voice. Now that he could see him up close, Kuai Liang could discern the details better. While his pale face should have been marked with dark circles due to his usual insomnia, Tomas’s face had a lightness that indicated he had a good sleep. There were no stress lines, and his dull gray eyes were bright and sharp, as if life had returned to them.

Kuai Liang still found it hard to believe the change that had occurred in such a short time. He answered Tomas’s question in a flat voice,“Yes, I feel much better now.” To divert Tomas’s attention and avoid probing further, he turned his gaze to the books you were examining. “What are you doing?”

“We’re looking for a solution to break the curse,” you intervened in a soft voice. “I found these books in the library; I thought maybe there might be something useful in them.” Your gaze shifted from him to the notebook in front of you, scribbling something that he couldn’t read from this distance. “We’ve tried several solutions so far, but none of them have worked.”

“What were the things you tried?”

“Well, I tried to buy a small bottle of holy water from a church nearby and bless the book. When that didn’t work, I read somewhere that a little blood and certain prayers could be effective in breaking the curse, so I tried that this time.”

You raised your left hand and showed him your palm, revealing a long, thin cut running from the little finger to the thumb. Judging by the look of the cut, it seemed to have been at least a few days old. Kuai Liang was surprised that you had hurt yourself for them, but his astonishment faded when he reminded himself that this was likely part of the deception.

“You said burning didn’t work, but I tried it again to explore every possibility. Besides that, there’s actually another method that comes to my mind; there are people who specialize in breaking curses. Normally, I didn’t really believe in such things, but after all this, I’m considering every possibility now. I don’t know how we can explain this whole thing to them, but maybe I can ask them for help. If I can’t break the curse, at least they can guide us.”

“I don’t know how much more we have to tell you to make you understand.” Bi-Han’s voice interrupted as he entered the living room. Kuai Liang observed you shift in your seat anxiously, while Tomas subtly straightened his posture in a protective manner. “You can’t break Quan Chi’s curse with such ridiculous things. If it were that easy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I know, but—”

“Stop this game,” Bi-Han interjected, his tone growing impatient. Although you tried not to show your uneasiness, you shifted again, and your hands clenched into fists on the counter, uncertain of what to do.

“What game?” You asked in a soft yet timid voice. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Unwanted help would only be an imposition. There’s no one here who wants your help. Is that so hard to understand, or are you really daft?”

As Tomas quickly rose from his seat, the chair made a painful squeal against the floor. “Bi-Han! Take back your words.”

“Do you realize who you are defending from whom?” Bi-Han growled, his demeanor emanating a threatening coldness, yet there was a determination in Tomas’s stance that he would not back down from his statement. Although Kuai Liang still couldn’t decipher how things had escalated to this point in just a week, he intervened to diffuse the situation before it escalated further.

“Guys-”

However, you acted before him, placing one hand on Tomas’s arm and drawing his attention back very easily, as if you had pressed a button.

“It’s all right, Tomas,” you said in a kind voice.

“But-”

“It’s alright,” your voice was still gentle, but there was also a certainty that emphasized the words. “There’s no harm, I’m fine.” After gently patting him on the arm, you continued to talk, focusing your gaze on one point rather than turning to them. On the other hand, you got up from where you were sitting and started picking up the mess on the counter. “I have a job interview, I won’t be here for a few hours. I’ll be back before sundown.” Just before closing your notebook, you suddenly turned your head to Kuai Liang as if something had occurred to you. “Oh, I almost forgot. On my way back, I’ll stop by the grocery store and shop for a few necessities for home. Is there a dish you like?”

Kuai Liang was stunned by this unexpected question. “A dish I like?” he echoed, his brows furrowing and incredulity evident in his voice. Despite the tension that just happened, you still answered his question with a small smile that you managed to put on your face.

“Yes. I want to make a meal that you like to celebrate your recovery; I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

***

“Why do you have to keep being rude?” As Tomas paced angrily around the room, Bi-Han lounged on a single sofa, spreading his legs in a relaxed manner that suggested he was indifferent to the situation. Kuai Liang observed the two of them, sensing a tingling at the nape of his neck—a foreboding sign of the headache that was about to enter his head.

“I’m tired of explaining, but you’re still not tired of asking same questions. I can actually understand why you’re getting along with her so well; you’re both terribly insistent on not understanding.”

“You’re only acting like a bully by being rude to someone who doesn’t deserve it,” said Tomas, as he stopped pacing and stood in front of Bi-Han. Bi-Han tilted his head back slightly, maintaining eye contact with Tomas and quietly responding to his challenge. While it was common for the two of them to struggle to find common ground and for Kuai Liang to act as mediator, this confrontation felt different. Tomas was resolute in his determination to protect you, leading him to confront Bi-Han. The presence of someone unfamiliar getting under his brother’s skin was evident. Kuai Liang found himself straddling the line between frustration over the situation and concern for Tomas.

“She’s already wrapped you around her finger. Just like Leilani-”

“Don’t mention her name,” Tomas interjected, his voice unusually harsh. “There is a difference between them; she is a really nice person. Is it that hard to believe?”

“And so you’ve figured it out in a short period of time, like a week. Congratulations to you. I wish you could really hit it this time compared to last time.”

“Bi-Han-”

When Kuai Liang rose to intervene with a warning tone, Tomas acted before him and grabbed Bi-Han with a rustle, at a speed that even Bi-Han could not decipher.

“Do you know what your problem is? You’re a coward.”

“Tomas-”

“Let him finish, Kuai Liang,” said Bi-Han, his voice eerily calm.

“You’re afraid to trust, aren’t you? That’s why you’re like this; you don’t want to let anyone near you through your arrogant walls.”

Tomas’ words hung heavily in the air, a tense silence covering the room as his words echoed on the walls. Bi-Han’s expression was illegible, but Kuai Liang could feel the anger boiling under the surface. After all, he knew his brother well enough to understand when his boundaries were being pushed.

“You think you understand everything, don’t you?” Bi-Han retorted, his voice piercingly cold. “You, who wear your heart on your sleeve, dare to juge me?”

“I’m not judging you; I’m just stating the truth.” After Tomas finished his words, he released Bi-Han and left the room in a cloud of smoke. Kuai Liang heard the faint click of the study door closing nearby.

“You’re going at him too hard,” He said with a sigh. “Even if he has an interest in her, don’t turn it into spite with your approach.”

‘’Do you think it’s up to my approach? Just look at him, he’s already under her spell.’’ Bi-Han argued.

‘’Even so, he is our brother. He needs our support. Stop setting him against you.’’

‘’He is the one who confronted us for the woman.’’

‘’You’re the one who triggered it,’’ Kuai Liang said, his patience wearing thin. ‘’Go get some air, collect your thoughts. I’ll take care of Tomas.’’

‘’Give him some mind.’’

Due to the small size of the house, Kuai Liang easily left the living room behind. When he reached the study, he softly opened the door and entered. Tomas stood a little further away, in front of the window, arms crossed, watching outside silently. He spoke in a dry voice without turning his head, even though he heard Kuai Liang’s approach.

‘’If you’re going to say the same things as Bi-Han, don’t bother at all.’’

“We are both thinking only of your well-being, Tomas.’’

“Come on, Kuai Liang, I’d rather you speak for yourself,’’ Tomas retorted. Kuai Liang gently placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Tomas didn’t push it away, but he still didn’t turn his head, his gaze fixed outside, his expression tense, the muscle on his chin clearly showing that he was angry about what had happened.

‘’You know Bi-Han, he may seem cold from the outside, but you know as well as I that he cares, he just fails to show it.’’

“Okay, maybe there’s some merit to his worries, but she didn’t do anything to deserve it, the only thing she’s shown us since the moment we came out of the book is just kindness, Kuai Liang. Thanks to her, I can sleep. You know too well what this means to me.’’ Tomas finally met his eyes, sincerity evident in his gaze. ‘‘I want you to give her a chance.’’

“Tomas-‘’

“I know you don’t trust her, but trust me,” his brother said, his voice tinged with a plea. “I understand I’m asking too much, but if you give her a chance, you’ll understand what I meant.”

Kuai Liang was at a loss for words. Tomas was more attached than he thought. Trust? He should have known that this was not possible, especially after what happened to them and the memories that still haunted his nightmares… He decided to drop the subject for now, it was clear they wouldn’t get anywhere if this matter dragged on.

When Kuai Liang initiated a small conversation to find out what had been going on for a week, Tomas set aside the tension and began to provide him with a summary of recent events. Kuai Liang observed his brother’s eyes light up and an small smile grace his face as he spoke about you. Despite appreciating Tomas’s strength in choosing to trust you, Kuai Liang couldn’t shake the bitter pain of the possibility of leaving wreckage in its wake. Collecting the pieces was becoming increasingly difficult, and this time, the prospect of there being any pieces left to gather was doubtful.

As time passed and the sun set, casting colorful lights across the cityscape outside the window, Kuai Liang felt his body slowly begin to ache. His joints felt as though there was no cartilage between them, his mouth was dry, and his eyes burned. A throbbing headache started to pulse at his temples, while a wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway unsteadily for a moment. Tomas, too, rubbed his eyes, indicating that he was experiencing similar symptoms.

“How many hours has she been gone?” Kuai Liang asked as he left the room, with Tomas trailing behind him.

“Four or five hours, I think.”

He found Bi-Han standing up and scratching his arms almost to the point of bleeding, Kuai Liang called out to him to stop. Bi-Han, however, seemed oblivious to his surroundings. For some reason, Bi-Han was the most sensitive among them. While Kuai Liang and Tomas could endure their master’s absences for a while, Bi-Han almost lost his mind during those times. The icy force that cocooned him decayed, and when faced with the outside world, Bi-Han couldn’t adapt to the change in temperature, causing his skin to painfully burn.

“Bi-Han! You have to stop before you hurt yourself,’’ Kuai Liang urged as he grabbed one of Bi-Han’s wrists and tried to pull him out of the trance. Bi-Han, lost in his agitation, initially didn’t register Kuai Liang’s presence, snarling like a wild animal and glaring with a crazed look in his eyes. Undeterred, Kuai Liang maintained his calm demeanor and tried again, ‘’You’re hurting yourself brother. You have to stop.’’

With a blink, Bi-Han snapped out of his trance, wrenching his wrist from Kuai Liang’s grip with force as he regained his composure, cursing angrily.

‘’Where the hell has this damn woman disappeared to? She should have been here hours ago!’’.

“This is the first time this has happened,” Tomas intervened, approaching them with a nervous look on his face. “Could something have happened to her?”

Kuai Liang had considered this possibility as well. If you were truly as kind-hearted as Tomas claimed, your intention couldn’t have been to cause them suffering, even if you knew they would be weakened by your absence. He knew that Tomas struggled to adapt to the outside world after emerging from the book, and Bi-Han would have been incapable of going out to search for you in that state, likely resorting to attacking someone or causing further harm to himself.

‘’I’ll go look after her, you stay here.’’ Ultimately, Kuai Liang decided it was best for him to handle the situation himself.

‘’I’m going with you too,’’ Tomas insisted.

‘’No, you stay with Bi-Han. It’s better that he’s not alone in this state.’’

‘’I’m not a cripple-‘’ Bi-Han began, but his words trailed off as the front door swung open. All three turned towards the door as you entered, raincoat soaked and holding a wet paper bag in one hand while the other seemed to conceal something under your raincoat. As your presence instantly offered them relief, Bi-Han lunged forward, bypassing any attempts to stop him, and positioned himself next to you, his stance emitting threatening signals from all sides.

‘’Where the hell have you been?’’ he demanded, leaning in closer. As Bi-Han cornered you, Kuai Liang moved to intervene with Tomas, while you attempted to explain yourself with a nervous, agitated tone. Startled by the tension, the paper bag slipped from your hand and fell to the ground.

‘‘I’m so sorry! On my way back, I found this kitten.” you said. Opening the front of your raincoat, you revealed the tiny feline tucked inside. Its meowing broke the tension as its head emerged. Tomas and Kuai Liang flanked Bi-Han, their attention captured by the small, pitiful-looking kitten. With a completely black body, its fur contrasted sharply with the white around its gray eyes and the pink tip of its nose. Its ears stood erect atop its small head.

‘’It was on the side of the road, its mother had been hit by a car, and its siblings had also perished. I discovered it nestled among them, trying to find warmth. I couldn’t leave it there,” you explained, your voice soft with compassion.

Bi-Han scoffed, “You have no livelihood, and your house is too small for all of us to fit in. As if all this wasn’t enough, are you going to try to take care of a fleabag now?’’ Despite his bother’s harsh and offensive words, the kind expression on your face while caring for the kitten remained unchanged.

“I will be its foster home. When it gets well enough, it’ll go to its real family.”

Bi-Han glanced at you briefly, muttering, “Whatever,” before pivoting on his heels and retreating to the living room. Tomas came up to you, giving you a little kiss on the top of your head and stroking the kitten that was perched on your lap. Relief washed over his face after he confirmed that you hadn’t suffered any harm.

“Are you going to give her a name?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, because it feels strange in my head to constantly call it ‘kitten.’ Does anyone have any ideas?” When your gaze turned to both of them, Kuai Liang remained silent, captivated by your image. Your cheeks and the tip of your nose were flushed from the rain outside, your skin and hair wet, and a sincere smile hidden on your face that touched his heart. You looked painfully innocent standing there with the kitten in your lap, a different image from the masters of the other book he had encountered so far.

“How about the name of that actor we watched last time?” Said Tomas, as he continued to stroke the kitten’s chin. The kitten’s eyes were closed in happiness, emitting loud purrs that reverberated through its tiny body, indicating how much it enjoyed being petted.

“Johnny Cage?” A small laugh poured from your lips. Kuai Liang tried not to dwell on how sweet and addictive your laugh had an air. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s a lady, Tomas. Oh, I found it! How about Ninja? She is a warrior just like you guys.”

“We are not ninjas,” Kuai Liang couldn’t help himself but chuckle at your suggestion. “But because the fur around her eyes is white, it looks like she’s wearing a mask. Ninja is actually not a bad name.”

“Yes, it suits her.”

“Good, then from now on your name is Ninja, little one. I couldn’t get the job, but I found you, so I guess it’s a win-win.” you said, stroking the kitten’s head. “I need to wash her thoroughly, she’s too dirty. After that, I’ll start on cooking. Is everyone hungry?”

***

Kuai Liang was completely silent as he looked at the plate you left in front of him. He didn’t really think you were going to make the food he liked.

‘’What’s the matter?’’ Tomas looked at him with sidelong eyes while stuffing a generous amount of morsel into his mouth. ‘‘You haven’t even touched your plate once.’’

‘’Aren’t you hungry?’’ You said in a slightly worried voice. Kuai Liang lifted his gaze from the food in front of him and looked at you. As he met your gaze, he noticed the fatigue evident in your eyes, weariness etched into their corners. Kuai Liang muttered in a voice that sounded foreign to his own ear.

‘’This is jiaozi.’’ He said, as if that cleared everything up.

‘’Yes.’’ You continued to speak despite your statement that you did not understand what he meant. ‘‘I’ve never done it before, so I had to look on the internet a little. Did I do it wrong?’’

Against the innocent question, Kuai Liang found himself confronting a flood of unfamiliar emotions. The last time he ate Jiaozi—also known as Chinese dumplings—was at Lin Kuei, and their father had not yet died. Kuai Liang had always liked eating this food. Normally, eating was more mechanical for him because of his metabolism, and it was an action he needed to do to survive, but he ate this meal completely arbitrarily. Now, years later, seeing this dish in front of him again made him feel nostalgic along with feelings he couldn’t name. Moreover, even though you didn’t know how to make this dish, the fact that you tried just because you knew that he loved it deeply affected him and changed the rhythm of his heart for a moment. For the first time, he felt cared for by someone outside of his family.

‘’No, it looks fine.’’ He said, in a voice that was hard to hear.

‘’Then you better taste it before it gets cold.’’ After Tomas poked him with his shoulder, Kuai Liang picked up one of the dumplings with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. A contented hum escaped his throat as the flavor he had forgotten instantly flooded his palate, taking him back to his memories.

‘’It’s quite delicious.’’ He said, appreciating your hard work without concealment. ‘‘Thank you.’’

With those words, a genuine smile lit up your face, radiating warmth and sincerity that momentarily stole Kuai Liang’s breath away. He couldn’t help but marvel at the allure you possessed, understanding a little better now why Tomas was drawn to you. Your sincerity and infectious smile had a way of making others believe, effortlessly bridging any gaps in communication. It was easy to forget your role as the owner of the book when you interacted with them so naturally, blurring the lines between master and slave with remarkable ease.

“Great, because I made a pot full of this, it’s nice that you like it.’’ You said with a chuckle. Then you left them for a minute to give Ninja the little plate you had prepared. After you had cleaned and dried Ninja nicely, you released her to explore the house. The kitten had adapted to the environment as easily as if she had been a member of this house for years. There was no indication in her small body that she was afraid of them. In fact, on the contrary, she was constantly chasing Bi-Han as if she was thirsty for his attention. Bi-Han finally couldn’t stand the kitten’s high-pitched meows and chasing after him anymore, so he went into the study and closed the door behind him. Ninja had not left the door since he had entered the room.

‘’Come along, sweet thing, it’s dinnertime.’’

You returned with Ninja on your lap, and when you placed her on the floor and left the food you had prepared in front of her, Ninja completely forgot about Bi-Han and focused on the food in front of her. Kuai Liang slightly stretched out from his seat, watched the kitten eating with a half smile, attacking her food with a great appetite and emitting strange, happy noises.

‘‘If you don’t want to turn into an ice floe, I suggest you don’t follow that grump.’’ said Tomas, swallowing the morsel he was chewing.

‘‘I think he’ll get used to it,’’ your soft voice was tinged with hope as you reached for your own plate. ‘’Who can say no to a cute kitten?’’

‘’Bi-Han, of course.’’ Tomas quipped.

‘’Maybe he can get used to it after spending some time,’’ Kuai Liang said, joining you. ‘’Ninja looks pretty convincing.’’

‘’Isn’t she?’’ Laughing, you raised your own glass of the wine you had opened with the meal. ‘’To Ninja.’’

Tomas and Kuai Liang also chuckled and raised their glasses, clinking them together. As Kuai Liang took a sip of his wine, he felt inexplicably light at that moment, as if the damage that the past years had left on his body and mind had lifted a little, leaving him temporarily free to enjoy the moment. After allowing himself to eat as much as he wanted again, just like in porridge, Kuai Liang once again encountered the strangeness of feeling his stomach full. It didn’t seem like this feeling could get used to for a while longer.

As he lay on the sofa, one hand over his stomach and the other behind his head, many thoughts ran through his mind. They helped you clean up after dinner, and when you retreated to your room after saying that the day was tiring and you couldn’t stand up anymore, Tomas—and of course Ninja—followed you.

Even though he guessed that the two of you were sleeping together, it felt different to witness it. It’s like… it’s like he wanted to be there, in that bed with you, even though he didn’t want to admit it, even though he didn’t want to think about it. There was a kind of jealousy in his feelings this time, rather than his concern for Tomas. He could see how good you were for Tomas, and a part of him longed for that connection too. It was like catching a glimpse of heaven, yet he couldn’t fully embrace it. He both wanted and didn’t want more, the conflict he fell into was incomprehensible even to himself.

Although Kuai Liang couldn’t understand how it happened, his eyes closed after a while, and he found himself facing one of his old memories.

‘’Come here, Kuai Liang.’’

Leilani’s voice was alluring yet toxic as she pulled on the chain attached to his collar, coaxing him into bed. He despised the collar, feeling like a mere animal under her control. Despite his inner protest, he knelt beside her on the satin sheets. A satisfied smile appeared on Leilani’s face as he knelt down.

Kuai Liang was surprised more and more every time how he could have been attracted to this woman once. It was a ridiculous situation to have allowed himself to be deceived so easily; now when he looked, all he saw was nothing more than a venomous snake, dangerous, cruel, and selfish.

‘‘I will host a celebration tomorrow, and some of my most important guests will be in attendance. While Tomas doesn’t have problems getting hard quickly due to his youth, I need someone who can go more than a few rounds. Taming Bi-Han can be tiresome; his stubbornness is often exhausting.” When Leilani grasped his manhood and caressed it with interest, although Kuai Liang maintained his expressionlessness, his skin stretched in disgust. He couldn’t stand the touch of this woman. ‘’You know what I want from you, don’t you? Have no doubt that I will reward you well, Kuai Liang. You know, I keep my word.’’

Kuai Liang wanted to scream, telling her to hold her forked tongue between her teeth to her face. This was almost a need rather than a desire; it had been a long time since her hollow promises had lost their meaning for him. After he remained silent, Leilani pulled the chain harder. With a sudden tightening of his throat, his breath remained congested in his throat, and a muffled sound left his lips.

‘’I cannot hear that you approve of my words,’’ Leilani said, almost hissing. He was clenching his jaw, pressing his teeth together so hard that for a moment he thought they would break under the pressure he was applying. When he managed to say the words, albeit with difficulty, Leilani’s dark green eyes shone with satisfied sparkles.

‘’That is my warrior, always ready to satisfy.’’

As Kuai Liang opened his eyes with a sharp breath, the morning sun greeted him warmly, casting a golden glow across the room. He blinked away the remnants of nightmare, his hand instinctively reaching to brush aside the strands of hair that had fallen across his face during the night. When he heard the front door click, he opened one eye and turned towards the door, only to find you there, looking slightly guilty as if caught in the act.

“Good morning. Did I wake you up again?” you asked in a whispering voice.

“No, I’ve just woken up,” Kuai Liang replied, his brow furrowing slightly as he noticed your attire. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I need to buy cat litter and food for Ninja. Would you like to accompany me? It won’t take long.” you offered. Thinking it would be beneficial to get some fresh air and distance himself from the walls that surrounded him, Kuai Liang accepted your invitation. Since he was already warm enough, he didn’t bother to grab any additional clothing, knowing that none of your clothes would fit him anyway. As you walked out of the apartment together, he took a deep breath, relishing the scent of the earth after last night’s rain. The clean smell soothed his heart, which had been beating irregularly, and the act of stepping outside helped to ease his tense muscles and nerves.

“Did you sleep well?”

Kuai Liang decided to be honest in his response, knowing he shouldn’t hide the truth from you. His expression clearly conveyed that he hadn’t slept well, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

“No, I usually have nightmares quite often. So even though I can sleep, I can’t say it’s ‘good,’” he admitted.

Your face softened under the morning sun, your caring gaze causing his heart to flutter. Your words were laced with sadness, mirroring the same emotion in your eyes.

“I use aromatherapy candles to help Tomas sleep, and they obviously work. If you want, I can give them to you to help. Maybe they’ll help you relax a little and prevent the nightmares,” you suggested, your voice filled with hope and sincerity. Kuai Liang considered your offer while silently studying you. It wasn’t just the candles that helped Tomas sleep; it was your presence. Your presence brought him peace. But he didn’t voice that sentiment out loud.

“Thank you,” he said finally. “I’d like to try.”

After responding to his answer with a smile, you began to introduce him to the surroundings. As you talked about where you usually shop for groceries and how you like to buy yourself coffee and sweet rolls from the little coffee shop on the corner from time to time, especially when the weather is nice in the nearby park, you take your book and read or go for a walk. With each detail about your everyday life, Kuai Liang felt himself decelerating even more as he listened to you, and the traces of his nightmare were erased from his mind.

As you recounted a funny incident to him, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. You explained how, in the past, you were walking through the park, lost in thought, when suddenly a squirrel darted out from a nearby bush and startled you. Startled, you leaped back in surprise, only to trip over a wayward tree root and land flat on your back, much to the amusement of onlookers nearby.

‘’I hope you didn’t frighten the poor squirrel too much,” Kuai Liang raised an eyebrow, his eyes alight with amusement. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages—simple, almost childlike, yet undeniably refreshing. He felt free from the weight of his past, not defined by his role as a slave or an assassin at the moment.

‘’Hey, he scared me first. Besides, we’ve already negotiated a peace treaty since then. I even gave him a few nuts as a gesture of goodwill,” you replied, a sweet giggle escaping your lips.

“Ah, so you’re a diplomat as well as… What? A squirrel whisperer?” he quipped, a small, teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. A sense of disbelief washed over him—how could he find such joy, effortlessly smiling and laughing, with not a single troubling thought in his head.

You laughed at his response, the sound ringing out joyfully in the quiet street. Kuai Liang found himself captivated by the sight of you, so carefree and full of life. It made you seem so much younger and more beautiful, your eyes sparkling with mirth, your cheeks flushed with laughter. In that moment, he felt a swell of pride, knowing that he could bring such joy to you with just a simple exchange. It was almost magical to witness firsthand, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to share this moment with you.

“I named him Theodore, after a character from a kids’ movie,” you explained with a smile. “He’s quite a chubby squirrel, but you’ll like him. He’s got quite the personality.”

***

It had been a week and a half since Kuai Liang had ventured out of bed, and during that time, he found himself gradually becoming accustomed to your constant presence. Despite his initial resistance, he couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you seemed to have on him. Every unexpected gesture or interaction only served to deepen his connection to you, making it increasingly difficult for him to maintain his distance.

Despite your respectful boundaries and reluctance to initiate physical intimacy, Kuai Liang couldn’t help but be captivated by the chemistry between you and Tomas. Your gentle exchanges and tender gazes toward his brothers stirred a longing within him, a desire to be a part of the connection you shared. Yet, his past experiences lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the risks involved in opening up to vulnerability. So, Kuai Liang found himself silently observing from a distance, still caught between the yearning for connection and the past wounds resurfacing. Though he longed to bridge the gap between himself and the warmth you and Tomas shared, he remained rooted in hesitation, unable to take the leap of faith. Thus, he stayed in the background, watching and wanting, but unable to dare to take action.

Taking a deep breath of the lavender-scented candle that you had left in the room, Kuai Liang tried to relax his body and quiet his mind. With each inhale, the calming scent enveloped him, easing the tension from his muscles and soothing his restless thoughts.

With another breath, he started to ascend into the waiting darkness, his body going lax, mind numbing. Everything smelled of lavender, mingled with the faint scent of you.

“Stand here, Tomas. And you, Bi-Han. Kuai Liang, come forward,” Leilani’s voice rang out within the hall as she positioned them in front of the gathered guests. Tomas stood with a stoic resolve, Bi-Han’s gaze betrayed a mix of defiance and resignation, while his eyes held a glimmer of suppressed rage. Leilani, draped in luxurious attire, circled them like a queen inspecting her subjects.

“Don’t let the youngest brother’s appearance fool you; Tomas is well-behaved and knows exactly how to please his lovers, always eager to satisfy their desires. As for Bi-Han, the eldest, he relishes in taking the dominant role in bed, but he’s also open to relinquishing control when desired. And then there’s Kuai Liang, the middle brother,” Leilani declared with a coy smile. She moved closer to him, her warm breath tickling his neck as she nibbled on his earlobe.

“He’s the feisty one, capable of enduring for hours thanks to his incredible stamina. If you’re looking to extend your pleasure beyond a couple of rounds, he’s my favorite in that regard,” she murmured seductively. Leilani’s words dripped with temptation, accentuating their prowess in the bedroom as she enticed her guests. The guests murmured amongst themselves, their eyes darting between Leilani and them. Tomas clenched his jaw in silent fury, Bi-Han’s fists tightened at his sides, he remained outwardly stoic, though inwardly he seethed with anger and humiliation.

As Leilani’s hand trailed down his chest, he fought back a grimace, his skin recoiling at her touch. Silently, he masked the turmoil within, but beneath the surface, a fierce determination smoldered—to break free from the chains that bound him to this life of servitude and degradation.

Kuai Liang woke up with a gasp when he heard someone call his name in the distance, feeling a rough wetness on his cheek. As he registered Ninja’s hot breath on his face, he struggled to comprehend the situation. How had he not noticed the kitten climb onto his lap? Ninja meowed, rubbing her little head against his chin, and with her purrs, she nestled herself in the area between his chin and neck, settling down to rest.

‘’Kuai Liang?’’

Hearing your voice nearby, Kuai Liang was careful not to disturb the kitten’s comfort, turning his head slightly to the side and looking at you. Thanks to the city lights outside, he could easily pick out your facial contours. You were on your knees so that you could see him more comfortably, your expression was worried, your eyebrows furrowed as you carefully examined him, wearing an old plush dressing gown.

‘’Are you all right?’’

‘’Have you been watching me?’’ Kuai Liang’s voice sounded so muffled that it seemed foreign and incomprehensible even to his own ears.

‘’No, actually, I came to drink some water. I heard you mumbling, thought you were having a nightmare. That’s why I wanted to wake you up.’’

Before Kuai Liang straightened up, he took Ninja on his lap and leaned his back against the armrest of the couch. He carefully stroked the kitten’s soft head, drawing a deep breath into his lungs. Her body was almost the size of his hand, so small that Kuai Liang was afraid of accidentally hurting the kitten. However, for Ninja, it didn’t seem to matter how big he was; she surrendered herself completely to his touch, content. Her happy purrs filled the silence.

Kuai Liang had never thought that he could be grateful for the existence of a kitten before, but right now, he was more grateful than ever for being distracted. It had alienated him from the imaginary hands and touches that were wandering on his skin.

“Yes,” Kuai Liang said after a while. ‘’I was having nightmares about my past.’’

Upon his answer, you sat down in the single seat opposite him and asked in a polite, even voice that showed you were a little afraid to express it.

‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’

Kuai Liang wanted to dismiss the matter by saying no at first, but then, Tomas’ words echoed in his mind and stopped him.

’I know you don’t trust her, but trust me.’

Kuai Liang thought that he was smart enough not to make the same mistake a second time. Until this moment. Something inside him, a feeling, an impulse, or whatever it was, whispered that he could trust you. Even though it seemed stupid, Kuai Liang wanted to try it. Maybe he hadn’t fully recovered from his nightmare yet, maybe he was aware of everything, contrary to the fact that he was fooling himself, and he still wanted to do it. Regardless of the reason, they all came to the same conclusion in the end.

‘’Her name was Leilani. She was the sixteenth owner of the book.’’

Kuai Liang spoke in a tone of voice that only you could hear. He could imagine the reactions his brothers would have if they heard him mention Leilani, and he didn’t feel healthy and in control enough to deal with them right now. His emotions and thoughts were everywhere; the thing that held him together was the tiny kitten on his lap and your presence, keeping him calm.

“Leilani was a sorceress who lived in the Outworld lands, not particularly powerful but was well known and had important connections throughout Outworld. The book had reached her through a merchant.’’ Kuai Liang said, despite his body convulsing with tension as he resurfaced those memories, he continued. When he mentioned that she had an approach that set her apart from other masters, that she might even find a solution to this curse like you, he watched your expression clash with a mix of surprise and resentment. From what he gathered from your reaction, Tomas had briefed you on what happened.

Despite the tension coursing through his body, the words flowed easily from his lips, one by one. When he reached the part about how Leilani won their trust, you remained as still as a statue. Leilani had always been kind and overly generous to them, until she revealed her true colors. She indulged their desires, bought them separate gifts, and made sure they were satisfied. It wasn’t difficult for them to believe her, as it was the first time someone had approached them like this since they were sealed inside the book. However, from that moment on, Leilani underwent a complete transformation. Now that she knew she had their trust, she began to play a different game with them.

No master had ever bothered to toy with their hopes before; typically, it was just orders and dark desires to be fulfilled. But for Leilani, playing with their hopes was more enjoyable than giving orders. She claimed to have found a way to save them from the curse, starting with seemingly harmless requests. At first, neither he nor his brothers were bothered by these small tasks. However, as the requests began to erode their pride, they realized the truth: Leilani was playing with them like a cat with a mouse. There was no freedom, no guarantee that her promises would be fulfilled—it was all just part of her game.

Especially when parties were held, it was the time that Leilani enjoyed the most. She liked to humiliate them in front of everyone, to highlight their weaknesses, which she knew very well, to announce that they were the deadliest assassins of a noble clan before, but now they were love slaves, to see them used as objects.

‘I know Tomas doesn’t like the dark; you wouldn’t want me to lock your brother in a room with no light for a week, would you?’

‘I discovered by chance last week that Bi-Han has a lot of sensitivity to my absence. You don’t want me to test how much longer he can stand it, do you Kuai Liang? Be a good slave and follow my orders.’

‘So the famous assassins of Lin Kuei… to come to this point now must be quite crushing your pride. You are nothing more than an object waiting to be used for my desires and nothing more.’

‘Remember who holds the power here, who controls your fate.’

As Leilani’s laughter rang in his mind, at one point when he ran out of words and had nothing more to tell, a silence fell over the room. Kuai Liang was surprised that he had told so much; obviously, he had not expected himself to perform like this. While he was trying to digest that, you suddenly filled his vision and hugged him tightly without crushing Ninja. Kuai Liang remained motionless, his body stiffening as his muscles reflexively contracted. But when he felt hot tears on his shoulder, his whole system was turned upside down.

‘‘Are you crying?’’ He said in an incredulous voice.

‘‘Yes, I- oh my, I’m sorry. Just give me a second, please.’’ When you just stood there without taking your head out of your hiding place, Kuai Liang remained motionless. He could have easily got out of your grip if he wanted, but your touch relaxed him in a way he hadn’t expected and made him feel… good. Your hug was sincere, caring, and full of emotion. His arms moved before his brain, hugging you in the same way; he gently pressed your body to his, feeling your soft and tender touch against his own hard-contoured body. Kuai Liang involuntarily inhaled the clean scent rising from your skin that touched his nose and felt his body relax a little more with the air filling his lungs.

At that exact moment, Ninja squealed because she was stuck between you, and when you both startled and recoiled, the kitten jumped straight from his lap to the ground.

‘’I’m sorry, my friend,’’ said Kuai Liang, apologetically trying to stroke the kitten’s head. ‘’I forgot for a moment that you were there.’’

Fortunately, Ninja seemed to have accepted his apology, allowing her head to be stroked. Then, as she caught the tassels of the carpet on the floor and jumped on them, Kuai Liang’s gaze was fixed on you.

Tears were still flowing softly from your eyes, your expression was so sad that Kuai Liang’s heart contracted with pain at the sight of you, the need to be able to put a smile on your face overwhelmed him. Taking your face between his palms, he asked in a gentle voice. Whenever he touched you, he felt a tingling sensation, like a harmless but enticing spark.

“Why are you crying?”

“I am so angry,” you replied, your voice carrying a mix of harshness and innocence. “I feel such a need to hurt someone for the second time.”

“Who’s the first?”

“Quan Chi,” you said in one breath, attempting to wipe away the tears. Kuai Liang stopped you, his calloused fingertips gently caressing your delicate skin. It felt natural, as if breathing. Even with Leilani, he had never felt such closeness. Was this what Tomas meant?

“Now I understand better why you don’t want to trust. How can a person trust again after all this? This is so cruel.” Kuai Liang felt his heart soften towards you, seeing the tears you shed for them. Neither Leilani nor anyone else felt sorry for them, shed tears, or got angry on their behalf in this way. Frankly, as of now, it didn’t even feel right to compare you to others. Kuai Liang reflected on the stark difference in your empathy and care compared to their previous experiences. “I will help you as much as I can, Kuai Liang. I told Tomas, but I want you to hear and know, too, that I will never lie to you like I have found a solution and play with your hopes. I don’t expect you to believe this, of course, but I want you to know.”

“Thank you,” Kuai Liang said sincerely. “It’s very rare for Tomas to trust someone other than us. I can see you’re good for him. It’s enough for me that you keep this up, he deserves to be happy more than enough.”

“You all deserve it,” you said with a slight reproach in your voice, but your gaze remained loving and sad. “I know how precious this is. I’ll keep it safe with me, and I promise to keep you all safe as well. I won’t let any harm come to you again. Although I haven’t been able to find a solution for the curse right now, at least I can offer you this safe space for now.”

Kuai Liang felt his heart melt completely, enveloped in a warmth so sweet and soft it felt like an embrace. His gaze shifted to your hand, where a scar marred the otherwise delicate skin of your palm. As he gently clasped your hand and cradled it in his own, his fingers traced the faint outline of the scar. He couldn’t still grasp the idea that you had hurt yourself for their sake. When his hand slipped to your wrist and he planted a tender kiss on the palm of your hand, he heard a broken breath escape you.

“You are a good person,” Kuai Liang said, the words coming out of his lips as if he was reassuring himself. Although it was ridiculous that he had fallen into the same situation as Tomas now, despite advising caution, Kuai Liang felt his walls crumbling with every passing second. He was tired of constantly protecting himself, erecting barriers around his heart, and remaining on guard. Battling all his life had left him exhausted, and now, despite the fire within him, Kuai Liang longed for a moment of respite, a chance to calm his body and clear his confused mind. And the solution was only a few breaths away.

You didn’t employ fancy words like Leilani, nor did you shower them with flashy gifts or overwhelm them with compliments. You didn’t exude dominance or pose a silent threat with your presence. There were no orders or rules; in short, you were unlike any master or people they had encountered before. Your speech was naive, your presence harmless, and though your financial situation might not have been affluent, your heart was undeniably generous. You sought to make them as comfortable as possible, ensuring they were full and now even opening your doors to a kitten.

When his gaze shifted to the supposed kitten, he saw Ninja lying a little further away, on her back, her round stuffed belly in clear view. A chuckle escaped his lips at the sight.

“Cats can tell if a person has good intentions or not,” he said, backing up his earlier words. When your attention shifted to Ninja like his, your small genuine laugh filled the room.

“So Ninja played a part in you coming to this conclusion, did she?”

“I can’t deny that Tomas had an influence on this, though not as much as Ninja.” Kuai Liang admitted.

“Just them?” you asked, your expression a bit playful, but mostly covered with a timidity that showed you were still unsure of his reaction. Kuai Liang felt his heart tremble with the look of you.

Before answering, he gently touched your hair with one hand, his fingers moving between the tufts, appreciating the sensation of freedom from any constraints. The label of “slave” had been with him for so long that he had forgotten what it meant to behave like a normal person. As his hand moved from your hair to your soft cheek, you didn’t flinch away. Instead, when you leaned into his touch, just like a cat, Kuai Liang’s heart swelled with the burgeoning interest he was starting to feel towards you.

‘‘How is it possible that I can ignore your influence,’’ Kuai Liang said in a voice filled with awe. ‘‘You’re like a dream I never expected to come true.’’

With his words, your expression softened so much that while tears glistened in your eyes again, the most loving smile settled on your beautiful face that he had ever seen. Then, as if something dawned on you, you chuckled wetly, a sign that you were about to cry.

‘‘Tomas had predicted this would happen,’’ you said.

‘‘How so? Did you both plan this?’’

Against the pure curiosity in his voice, you let out another giggle. Then, as you shook your head from side to side, meaning no, you placed one hand on his cheek and gently stroked his skin with your thumb. In that moment, the question marks in Kuai Liang’s head became silent.

‘‘It’s just your brother knows you too well,’’ When the look on your flushed face and shy gaze landed on his lips, Kuai Liang felt his heart quicken and his body fill with anticipation. You asked with a feather soft voice, ‘‘May I kiss you?’’

Instead of answering, Kuai Liang inclined his head, finding your lips without hesitation. With a sigh, you welcomed him, lips parting in acceptance as he drew you closer, his other hand gently encircling your waist. The kiss was slow, unhurried, and tender, as if time stood still and belonged only to them. Your tenderness shook the walls around Kuai Liang even more deeply than before. It was as if you feared hurting him, a sensation he had never experienced, let alone kissed with such care. His heart pounded with a fierce rhythm, ignited by a wild protective instinct.

You were a unique presence, offering a glimpse of the man he once was, a rarity he had never encountered before. In return, Kuai Liang longed to learn every facet of you, to etch even the smallest details into his memory. ‘This must be what they call addiction,’ he thought. This was the only way he could best describe the effect you had on him.

As your body touched his, your fingers gently entwining between his long black hair, and your eyes closed in trust, Kuai Liang found himself experiencing a feeling he had never tasted before. It was more than an instant sensation; it hit him like a slap and shook his very existence. It felt like completion. You were filling a part of himself that he didn’t even know was missing. You were the hope he dared not embrace, the goodness that remained pure in a world of ugliness. Being able to touch you was a lifeline, anchoring him to reality and reminding him that this was really happening, that you were here, on his lap, between his arms.

When Kuai Liang kissed you with a deeper, awakening passion, you didn’t resist. Instead, you put your arms around his neck, your grip soft and yielding, showing once again that you left the choice to him rather than demanding more. You were simply there, touching him, and it was clear from everything that you were content with just that.

He wanted to laugh at Tomas for knowing him better than he knew himself, but a strange lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. Part of him felt tainted by the countless bodies he had touched, as if no matter how much he scrubbed his skin clean, he could never rid himself of the imaginary hands that had touched, grasped, clawed, and caressed him. Lips that kissed and bit him, leaving their forever mark. Thus, he felt as though he had stained you by touching you. But the selfish, hungry part of him, which brought to the surface all the forgotten feelings, was more dominant; he wanted you. And because he had chosen to open his heart for the first time, he wanted to believe that you would keep it safe, as you promised.

Perhaps this time, there was no need for him to protect his heart behind its walls.

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skyward-floored · 5 days

Text

The Lost Woods aren’t so bad.

Not after traversing them more times then Link can count, at least. Sure the paths shift, and monsters occasionally slip their way inside to hide in the bushes and trees, but Link knows the way to the clearing where he needs to go.

The forest only needs to let him.

His boots cut through soft grass, an occasional crunch belaying a leaf. The song of the woods is on the wind, and Link follows its winding tune, the pipes of water, strings and drums of leaves and branches. Quiet giggles make his ears twitch, but Link knows to ignore them.

He plays the game of the Woods, walking its paths, watching poes with a careful eye to see where they lead. The song dances by, high and low, loud and soft, and the flute that sometimes joins it makes his heart ache.

Time stretches strangely under the canopy of trees and fog— Link feels like he’s been here for hours now, but the glimpses of sunshine that peek through the branches are no different from how it was when he arrived. Link passes through another clearing, doubt beginning to nip at his heels. They’re not called the Lost Woods for no reason after all, and he’s starting to wonder if he hasn’t passed their test this time.

Is it because of what I’ve done since last I’ve been here?

But then something in the air, in him, clicks, eases, Link doesn’t know the word. But it’s like a fog lifts from his vision, and the path he needs to take is suddenly obvious. Link follows the pull past flowers and stones, over a barely-there path. It guides him through the yawning mouth of a log, and birds softly chirp as he emerges into a familiar clearing.

Fog drifts past his boots as he looks around, and a single shaft of sunlight breaks past the trees, drawing his vision to sparkling blue.

Link exhales, and steps forward, squirrels and other small creatures darting away into the bushes. He steps up onto the small stone platform, and doesn’t move for a long moment, looking at where the Master Sword sits with wisps of fog and sunlight dancing around her. Waiting for him.

“Hey old girl,” Link says softly, and for some reason his throat aches as he rests a hand on her hilt. “Been a while.”

The metal under his skin is both hot and cold, warmed by the sun’s light, and cooled by the stone it rests in. Despite years exposed to the elements, the Master Sword isn’t covered in greenery like it was the first time Link found her. Nor is her shine diminished in the slightest. Her blade is dimmed only because she rests, her power waiting for the next hero who needs her.

Who just happens to be Link again.

A shaking sigh escapes him, and Link puts both of his hands around her hilt, the electrifying hot-and-cold sharp-and-soft thrill of her power zipping through him as he pulls.

The Master Sword slips loose just like it did when he pulled her the first time, and Link raises her to the sky, the fog parting and fading away. The sunlight brightens somehow, making her sparkle and glow, and Link’s throat tightens again.

He hadn’t realized until now how badly he’d missed her.

Link lowers the blade again, running a hand over her cool steel as he studies her, looking over her finer points to familiarize himself with the weapon once again. Something is different, he realizes after a minute or two. And when it finally dawns on him what it is, he holds the Master Sword tighter, almost hugging her.

“I’ve grown,” he says quietly.

The blade fits his size now.

Instead of the still-pudgy hands of a child grasping at her hilt, there’s the worn hands of an adventurer ghosting along the metal, scars catching in her grooves. There’s blood staining his hands now that wasn’t there before, yet she still allowed him to pull her.

“You fit better, now,” he continues, voice shaking a little. “Hopefully this’ll... make things easier.”

His breath hitches, and Link swallows it back, clasping the sacred blade in his arms like one would an old friend.

He squeezes his eyes closed.

“I guess I thought I wouldn’t be doing this again,” Link whispers, ghosting his fingers along the gem in her hilt. “Not... not after the last one.”

Not after what I did.

The metal seems to warm just a hair, like the sunshine got pulled into it, and Link rests his head against the Master Sword, allowing a single drop of saltwater to trail down his cheek.

“Thanks,” he croaks, and the softest, faintest of chimes echoes in his heart.

It’s enough to pull him from the grief that was threatening to swallow him up again, and Link sets aside the weight of an island, and focuses instead on the weight of the sword, and his kingdom.

He’s needed. He can’t get lost in grief.

Link breathes out, running his hand along the steel one more time, and then he gently sheathes her, stepping down from the platform.

“Here we go again old girl,” he says as he steps outside of the clearing, weary with grief, but determined to stop the evil returning yet again.

He closes his eyes.

“One more time.”

A single pure note chimes in his chest, and Link feels something other than grief wrap itself around him, urging him forward to take another step, to press on despite the weight.

It feels a little bit like hope.

#had sudden intense feelings about Legend and the Master Sword #and if he was dumped into albw events very shortly after koholint (a mean headcanon I have)#cranked this out in under two hours last night when I couldn’t sleep #bon appetit #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu legend #linked universe legend #linked universe fic #lu fic #a link between worlds #but specifically pre lu #writing from the floor #if this feels like a vent fic no it doesn’t shhhh

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nayziiz · 3 months

Text

Team Dynamics | LN4

Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex, angst (in this chapter)

Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris

Series Masterlist

PART 5 (quite a long chapter)

In the days that followed their agreement, Gemma and Oscar found themselves engrossed in the task of organising the karting excursion for Lily. Messages and calls flowed seamlessly, the excitement palpable in their exchanges. Gemma's characteristic enthusiasm shone through as she meticulously planned every detail, turning what could have been a simple outing into a memorable day filled with racing and valuable tips to get Lily comfortable in the machinery.

Gemma, drawing on her wealth of simulation experience, carefully selected a local karting circuit she frequented known for its challenging twists and turns. She considered it the perfect setting for Lily's introduction to the world of karting. With an eye for detail, Gemma coordinated the logistics, ensuring that everything, from the availability of karting equipment to the timing of the event, was seamlessly arranged.

Gemma arrives at the karting circuit adorned in her black and pink gear, her face beaming with enthusiasm. Lily, slightly nervous yet eager, meets Gemma with a mix of excitement and curiosity. Gemma wastes no time in immersing Lily in the world of karting, providing insightful tips on handling the kart, mastering the turns, and maximising speed on the straightaways.

Lando, always curious and with a mischievous glint in his eye, decided to accompany Lily and Oscar to the karting circuit to meet Gemma there. His motivations are twofold – not only does he want to witness Gemma's karting skills firsthand, but he also wants to observe her in her natural comfort zone. It’s no secret within the McLaren team that Gemma has a genuine love for karting, and Lando is keen on experiencing her in that space.

Oscar and Lando make their way onto a small pavilion overlooking the karting area, where the high-pitched hum of engines and the occasional cheer fill the air. As they settle into a prime viewing spot, Oscar turns to Lando, his eyes focused on the girls hovering around the karts on the track.

“Gemma asked that we keep ourselves out of the way so we don't distract them.” Oscar informs Lando, gesturing towards the busy scene below. Lando nods in understanding, leaning against the railing of the pavilion.

“Got it. We'll be the silent cheerleaders then. Wouldn't want to mess with their groove. I’m just happy to be here.” Lando concedes with a crooked smile.

Below them, Gemma, Lily, and the buzzing energy of the karting circuit command their attention. Gemma, in her element, is animatedly pointing at various parts of the karts, offering guidance and sharing insights with Lily. The two women exchange animated conversations, occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter.

“How does it feel seeing her in this kind of environment?” Oscar asks when he notices Lando’s eyes fixed solely on Gemma and her movements.

“It’s hot, to say the least. She’s pretty much the perfect girl.” Lando admits with a playful smirk, his gaze unwavering from Gemma as she continues to guide Lily through the intricacies of karting.

“Perfect, huh? I didn't know you were into girls who could outpace you on the track.” Oscar raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“It's not just about the racing, mate. It's the whole package – the passion, the skill, the confidence. Gemma's got it all.” Lando chuckles, shaking his head.

"Why don't you just ask her out on a date?" Oscar wonders.

“She just wants to be friends.” Lando informs his teammate and friend.

“And, you’re happy with that?” Oscar asks, sceptical.

“Yeah.” Lando quips. “I don’t want to let her slip through my fingers because I’m forcing for more, if you get what I mean.”

“She’ll come around.” Oscar assures Lando.

“I know she will.” Lando smiles, turning his attention back to the girls out on the track.

As they continue to watch the karting activities unfold below, Lando can't help but steal glances in Gemma's direction. There's a magnetic pull between them, an unspoken connection that goes beyond their environment. Gemma's presence seems to light up Lando's world, and he's content to let their relationship unfold at its own pace. Gemma, sensing Lando's gaze burning her skin, gives him a warm smile and a small wave, a silent reassurance that speaks volumes.

Gemma has been trying to keep her feelings for Lando in check, maintaining a professional demeanour within the team. Lando is always around, offering his emotional support in a subtle yet consistent manner knowing how vastly different Gemma’s new job role is compared to her previous role at the factory. His efforts to be a friend and provide a sense of security haven't gone unnoticed by her. As Gemma continues to guide Lily, her mind can't help but wander to the unexpected presence of Lando. The realisation that he wants to be a part of the experience, even in a casual setting, tugs at the edges of Gemma's carefully guarded emotions. She can't deny the connection they have formed.

After the exhilarating karting session, Gemma, Lily, Oscar,and Lando decide to grab lunch together. The four of them head to a quaint local restaurant, eager to continue their festivities. Seated at a corner table, the two drivers share stories and laughter over plates of delicious comfort food they are often restricted of. The atmosphere is light, with the thrill of racing still lingering in the air. Gemma finds herself enjoying the company, appreciating the genuine smiles and easy banter between the two teammates and Lily occasionally quipping in to tell an embarrassing story about Oscar.

As they discuss various topics, Lando's subtle physical touches don't go unnoticed by Gemma. A brush of his hand against hers as they reach for the salt, a playful nudge when sharing a joke, his knee pressing against hers, and the occasional lingering eye contact—all seemingly innocent gestures send a subtle current of warmth through Gemma.

Gemma, while savouring the moments, remains cautious, aware of professional boundaries. Yet, Lando's easygoing nature and the genuine interest he shows in her make it increasingly challenging for Gemma to keep her emotions neatly tucked away.

“That was fun. We should do this more often.” Lando states with his signature grin.

“I agree.” Gemma nods in response to Lando’s statement.

Gemma finds herself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The subtle touches from Lando have left an indelible mark, sparking a warmth that lingers within her. She glances at him, catching his eye, and they share a moment of unspoken understanding.

- Later that night -

Lando stands outside her hotel room door, bathed in the dim glow of the corridor lights. A hint of uncertainty lingers in his eyes as he raises his hand to knock softly. Gemma, immersed in her late-night activities, is taken aback by the unexpected sound at her door. Her eyes widen as she peers through the peephole, recognizing Lando's silhouette.

Her heart skips a beat, and a mixture of surprise and anticipation dances in her eyes as she quickly swings the door open. Lando stands before her, his expression a mix of vulnerability and something unspoken. The connection between them, that subtle energy that seems to hum in the air whenever they are together, is palpable.

Gemma has been up late, lost in the depths of social media, scrolling through TikTok and losing track of time while watching edits of Lando. The familiar warmth of his presence feels like a serendipitous surprise. Her room, softly illuminated by a bedside lamp, is evidence of her late-night activities, scattered with papers and notes from her work.

Tired from the day's adventures and the late-night scrolling, Gemma finds herself dressed in an oversized shirt that hangs loosely on her frame, paired with comfortable shorts. The fatigue in her eyes is softened by the subtle excitement of unexpectedly finding Lando at her door.

“Lando.” She greets, a smile playing on her lips. “What brings you here?”

“Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd take a late-night stroll, and, well, here I am.” He shrugs, a hint of sheepishness in his demeanour.

“Late-night stroll or an excuse to see me?” Gemma chuckles, a warm, genuine sound.

“Maybe a bit of both.” Lando grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. “I was wondering if you'd join me on a drive?”

“It's after midnight.” Gemma counters, her curiosity piqued.

“I know. I just need to clear my mind, but I could really do with some company.” He explains, his gaze unwavering. Gemma hesitates for a moment before nodding.

“Let me put on something warmer.” She informs him, leaving the door open for him to enter and he does.

As she retreats into the bathroom, Lando watches her with a mix of anticipation and gratitude. She returns in sweatpants over her pyjama shorts and a sweatshirt that seems strangely familiar.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Lando questions, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah. You left it in the hospitality suite last Sunday, so I kept it for safety's sake.” Gemma replies, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“Mmh, you stole it.” Lando teases, the corners of his mouth lifting in a lighthearted grin. Gemma shrugs with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Consider it collateral. Now, where are we driving to at this hour?” She wonders, quickly diverting the attention away from the topic of the sweatshirt.

Lando grinned at Gemma's playful remark, appreciating the banter that had become an unspoken language between them.

“Let's just drive and see where the night takes us." He suggested with a sense of spontaneity lacing his words.

Gemma nodded, a hint of excitement in her eyes as they ventured into the quiet night. The city lights twinkled in the distance as they wound through the deserted streets, the gentle hum of the car creating a soothing soundtrack to their impromptu journey. The soft glow of the dashboard illuminated the contours of their faces, revealing the unguarded moments between sentences.

The winding roads led them to a scenic overlook, where the city below sparkled like a sea of stars. Lando parked the car, and they stepped out, the crisp night air enveloping them. Gemma hugged herself, the stolen sweatshirt providing a comforting layer.

“Want to tell me what's on your mind?” Gemma breaks the comfortable silence, turning to Lando with a gentle smile.

“It's just been one of those weeks, you know? Needed a bit of a break from the noise and chaos.” Lando glances at her, his expression momentarily thoughtful. After a moment of silence, he speaks with a hint of frustration in his voice. “I need to win a race, and badly.”

“You will. You just have to be patient.” Gemma reassures him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I know, but it feels like I've been waiting forever. The competition is tough, and every race feels like a missed opportunity.” Lando sighs, the weight of his aspirations evident in his expression.

“You're incredibly talented, Lando. Your time will come. The journey is just as big a part as the destination, right?” She counters, her thumb rubbing comforting circles onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, you're right. It's just hard not to get caught up in the pressure sometimes.” He nods, appreciating her supportive words.

“Pressure can be a driving force, but don't let it consume you. You're doing what you love, and success will follow your passion.” Gemma adds as she removes her hand from his shoulder and replaces it with her temple as she leans against him. He instinctively wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer. “And, I’m happy to go on all the late-night drives for you to see that.”

As they make their way back to the car, Gemma can't help but notice a faint smile on Lando's lips. The stolen sweatshirt, the midnight drive – it all feels like a stolen chapter from a romance novel. The air between them carries a hint of something unspoken, a promise of more adventures and stolen moments yet to come.

As they drive back to the hotel, the city slowly coming to life in the predawn hours, Gemma rests her head against the window, feeling a sense of contentment that transcends the late-night escapade. When they return to the hotel, the quiet hum of the car engine fading away, a charged atmosphere lingers between Lando and Gemma. In the soft glow of the hotel's exterior lights, Lando turns towards her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and restraint.

He leans in, and with a gentle touch, Lando kisses her softly, the connection lasting only for a split second. Gemma, caught in the warmth of the moment, pulls away, a conflicted expression on her face. She presses a hand to his chest, a silent warning.

“We can't, you know we can't.” She cautioned him, her voice a delicate plea.

“I know.” Lando acknowledges, his eyes searching hers. “But, it pains me that I have to stop.”

“It's complicated, Lando. Timing, circumstances.” Gemma sighs, a mixture of emotions playing on her features.

“It's just hard when everything else feels so right.” Lando nods, understanding the unspoken barriers that hold them back.

“It's just that there are things I need to figure out on my own.” Gemma added with a sincerity that cut through the charged air between them.

“Take all the time you need. I'll be here whenever you're ready.” Lando counters, his determination palpable.

“I can’t expect you to wait for me. We don’t know how long that could take.” Gemma continues.

“I’ll be here. Whenever.” Lando, once again, assures her, but her eyes are pained and her heart weighs heavy.

“Just one more kiss. Just one to keep my sanity in check.” Gemma whispers, her eyes searching Lando's with a mix of longing and reluctance.

“You know it won't stop with just one kiss.” Lando hesitates, caught in the magnetic pull of their connection.

Lando, understanding the weight of their shared desires, leans in, and their lips meet in a lingering kiss. It holds a blend of passion and restraint, a poignant moment amid conflicting emotions. As they hesitantly pull away, Gemma moves to get out of the car and Lando follows her inside without another word spoken.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc #f1 driver x oc #formula one

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eclecticmiasma · 6 months

Text

Down Comes the Claw Ch. 1 (Raphael x Reader)

Doomed, detected, and caught.

SFW (For now)

[Warnings: afab reader, noncon/dubcon, mind control-ish elements, incubi, clones, ownership, imprisonment. EVENTUAL: cambion Raphael, degradation, domination, forced voyeurism, orgasm denial/delay, size difference]

Artist credit: @wrroniec on twitter

The Archivist’s curiosity isn’t well hidden underneath his thin veil of distrust. A mortal, alone, simply wandering the halls of one of the Hells’ most powerful Cambions because she wanted to...peruse his private collection of artifacts? Even a troll would smell treachery miles away.

Were it any other being, the Archivist would have had you sent screaming to holding cells until the master of the house could decide what plane of torment to shuttle you to next, but Korilla had been rather forceful in her instructions not to intervene.

“He’s got a plan for this one,” She’d grinned, the gleam in her dark eyes devilish in its own right, “Let her play while she can.”

Your lips are split from worrying them between your teeth. As if the Hells aren’t hot enough, the Archivist’s gaze has you sweating buckets. He alone could rip your throat to shreds with those fangs the minute your presence has been deemed unsavory, you’re sure of it. As a gleaming ruby locket catches your eye, you try to regard it coolly. You are nothing more than a purveyor of incredibly rare goods, and not at all trying to make your way toward the glittering contract sat front and center of Raphael’s trophy room. The phrase is a mantra you desperately wish to believe.

“Worn by Lumi, a cleric beholden to twilight…” Gods, is your voice trembling? You repeat the name again as if you’re trying to search your vast religious knowledge for the origin of this treasure. Not a single snippet of information comes to mind. Internally, you brace for the house itself to eat you alive.

Instead, Korilla barks out for the Archivist’s attention. Something about another contract ready to be sorted. The man regards you with a final furl of his brows before turning his back to you and attending to his duties. Adrenaline floods your veins and your fingers flex with anticipation. Get the contract, smash Hope’s chains, and get out.

Hope herself appears out of thin air and parrots your thoughts giddly, “Get the contract, smash Hope’s chains, and get out!” before nipping out of existence once again.

You don’t give yourself another chance to think. Without a sound, you prowl towards the center of the grand room and beeline straight for the contract. This is why they agreed to send you alone- Karlach, Shadowheart, the others. Years of prowling the streets of Baldur’s Gate made you nearly undetectable when you wanted to be, so much so that you had even startled Astarion for a laugh on long boring treks. Sure, Gale and Lae’zel nearly came to brawl over the decision, but after two days of quarrels the answer was final.

It could only be you.

The contract before you almost hums with power. Anxiety gnaws at your stomach as you check it over thrice for traps. Nothing. It seems wrong, somehow. A piece of parchment that potentially dictates the fate of Faerûn itself guarded by nothing but a few words. Something tells you to leave it and run, perhaps remnants of the Emperor’s hold on your psyche. Images of your companions, the Hammer, Hope’s face quickly override your doubts and you close your eyes, prepared.

“Give me my heart’s desire,” The words fall from your lips with ease, but nagging trepidation constricts around your heart. Without a sound, the glittering sphere surrounding your contract dissolves away. Before the Archivist can sense what has occurred, before you can convince yourself to turn heel and dash away from all of this, you snatch the page and tear it in two.

Everything plunges into silence. The eternal screams of the damned beyond the gilded walls, cries and whimpers and babbling of long-gone debtors, Korilla’s nagging- all of it gone in an instant. The air around you becomes oppressive, constricting, increasing degree by degree. Ashes fall from your fingertips as the shreds of your contract disintegrate. Get the contract, smash Hope’s chains, get out. You repeat it again and again in your head until your mantra is a scream, but your legs will not move.

“Fools...fools...how hard you have fought,” A familiar baritone echoes out across the empty archive accompanied by slow clapping. It can’t be, you want to shriek. Hope said he was planes away, that you had time.

“Brave, brave, but it's all been...for naught,” You can’t tell from where his voice is coming. It sounds both far and near, across the hall and right in your ears all at once. Even his footsteps, slow and commanding, don’t betray his location.

“True Souls that couldn't be bought,” He’s mocking you now, a gleeful lilt in his otherwise menacing tone. True Souls...the faces of your companions flip through your mind’s eye like pages of a tome. This isn’t how it’s all supposed to end, is it? Your lungs start to burn, unable to expand or contract to the fullest.

“Doomed...” Raphael himself is in the room now, you feel it. As he takes his sweet time sauntering up to you from behind, the magic that holds your limbs in place begins to be revealed. A holding spell, tendrils wrapped around your legs and snaked up your torso through your fingertips. It pulsates with a blinding purple glow. Sweat drips down your temples as the heat of the Hells becomes sweltering, as fear settles in your bones.

“...detected…” Gods, you will. Tyr, Mystra, Shar for Hells’ sake, you pray to every last one. Anything to bid your body run. As the screams of the damned filter back in, growing louder and louder with each step Raphael takes, it becomes devastatingly clear that not a single deity can hear you.

Raphael’s hands land on your shoulders. His fingertips, though gently splayed, might as well be digging into your skin. If you could move an inch, you would have jumped ten feet in the air. Instead you tremble like a rabbit held in the canines of a much larger beast. He leans down and aligns his lips with your ear, breath ghosting across your flesh, “...and caught.” If you could sob you would, but the fear won’t allow it. Instinct of prey that’s well and truly done for. Instead you tense, bracing for the impending pain of retribution.

“So,” the Devil muses, mile wide grin easily detected through the undercurrent of excitement in his tone, “this is the path you have chosen. Anything you and your group of sorry souls could have wanted would have been yours. Your names would have gone down in history as the heroes that saved Faerûn. Yet, you squandered it with a flick of your wrist. What do you have to say for yourself, oh fallen hero?”

Your mouth opens, but not a sound escapes. Nothing that surfaces in your reeling mind feels like it could ever be enough to reverse the tide of ruin you’ve brought upon yourself. Raphael waits patiently as you flounder. Your terror is a wine finer than any bought, and he has all of eternity to savor it.

“Please…” The pitiful, squeaking word escapes your throat more so than it coming out on purpose. Raphael chuckles darkly and moves to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, I do so love to hear you beg, little mouse. However, I think we can both agree that ‘please’ isn’t an answer. Perhaps if I tell you a story, you’ll be more inclined to...talk.”

Raphael pulls away from you and steps lithely to your front. With a snap of his fingers and a puff of flame, he transports the two of you to his dining room. Roaring flames lick the inside of the fireplace before you, silhouetting the Devil as he prepares to speak. The holding spell wraps tighter.

“You see, the Devil is a rather busy man. When I’m not gracing your merry band with my presence, I’m often attending long meetings with prospective clients, or checking up on those that have already promised me their souls. Perhaps I’m even doling out a punishment or two to a cheeky human that thinks it’s found a loophole. It’s all very important work, and requires quite a bit of cunning and concentration.”

The oppressive heat is getting to you. Raphael’s deep voice sounds like it’s ringing in your head, almost akin to the Emperor’s presence. He paces back and forth before you, gesturing his arms in theatrical movements as if performing a monologue. Each word sends your psyche farther into disarray.

“Hero,” Raphael claps loudly, bringing your attention back to him, “Since my tales seem to bore you, I’ll get straight to the point. I had a fairly important event to attend right before your flagrant disregard for our agreement. Now, imagine my surprise when right in the middle of securing a rather rare and valuable contract, I feel a...shudder, wrack my entire body.”

Glowing eyes level with yours as he leans in close. His brows are furrowed now, genuine anger contorting his features, “My skin began to feel hot, clammy. My concentration waned. Before I realized what was happening sheer ecstasy pooled in my abdomen and then-” He’s so close to you that you hear his breath catch, “It became apparent that someone was using my body.”

Your heart drops. It was the only way. The Archivist had given you access to Raphael’s bedroom with a little cunning, and the only thing standing between you and the contract was a rather familiar looking incubus. What harm could there have been in trading your body for the fate of your companions, your home? The incubus had warned you, though, in its own way. If everything it did with your form meant you would feel it on a different plane, it should have been obvious that Raphael’s form would feel it too.

“I...I didn’t-”

“I knew you would betray our agreement,” Raphael spits, lips hovering just in front of your own, “I knew that eventually I would find you hear in my home, remnants of your misdeed in hand. Korilla and I machinated thousands of ways to tear you asunder, to torment you for breaking my one, most cardinal rule,” Raphael catches himself in his rage, and pulls back. He looks to the fire, light reflected in his eyes. Inhale, exhale. When his gaze meets yours again, all remnants of fury are gone.

“I was ready to kill you in an infinite number of ways. But I should have known better. The moment I met you, I knew you were...special. Of course you would throw a wrench in my plans, and do so beautifully. I almost commend you.”

As he smiles, your skin crawls. He moves in circles around you, thinking, plotting. After some time he comes to a stop, once again behind you.

“So, I propose a better solution. I’ve decided that I rather...enjoyed indulging in your body,” You swallow a protest as his chin rests in the crook of your neck, his left hand sliding down the curve of your waist and along the front of your thigh, “Form a new contract. Submit to me, and I won’t touch a hair on your companions’ heads. As much as I would love to take the place of that poor spawn’s master, I can control myself- for you.”

He squeezes your thigh and drags his lips across the straining muscles in your neck. Your sweat slicked skin sticks to his own, and you feel a deep rumble at your back as he revels in the sensation, “For all they know, the contract is still intact. I’ve captured you here,” He kisses your neck and you squirm, fighting back a gasp, “and their only option is to use the hammer,” another kiss, “or you perish.”

“No…I won't...” The answer comes as a piteous whimper. Raphael cackles against your skin, squeezes your body tight to his own, and tuts like he’s caught a naughty child with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Wrong answer, little mouse.”

Chapter 2 smut incoming 😘

*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide more mature content!

[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]

#fics #raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #no smut yet #raphael/tav #raphael x reader #raphael/reader #cambion raphael #house of hope #bg3 raphael #bg3 x reader #raphael x you #i don't care what haarlep says this man has had an eternity to learn how to fuck

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oneatlatime · 7 months

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Want to get your thoughts on something you've touched on in a couple places. A pretty popular idea in the fandom is that one of the (in-universe) reasons airbenders have gone so hard into the peace-and-love monk thing is a self-awareness that, if they didn't, there's not a whole lot anybody could realistically do about it.

Like, Southern Air Temple pretty strongly implies that Gyatso solo'd a room full of comet-roided firebenders. It killed him but he did it, and while he is a master Airbender, we're not given any real indication that he is uniquely so, right?

I have many thoughts on this! Sorry in advance for the long post! And sorry if this goes a bit off topic!

Short answer: I don't agree.

Long answer:

We've seen that nations' cultures tend to reflect their native bending styles. Or vice versa. It's probably a chicken and egg scenario. The Fire Nation chose to spread (like wildfire) and is full of hot headed, impetuous roid-rage sufferers who can't see or plan for the long term. Fire itself easily becomes ungovernable and is at best muzzled/leashed, always waiting for the next chance to bubble over in unplanned / unpredictable / generally unhelpful directions (Hi Zhao!). So an element shapes a culture shapes and element until you've got a positive feedback loop (or in the case of the Northern Water Tribe, a negative feedback ourobouros due to outside pressure). Importantly, neither culture nor element develops in isolation; I think they develop simultaneously.

The Earth Kingdom is probably the most rigid and unchanging, even when it would benefit them to change/innovate. We see rigidity and humourlessness in response to change or the unexpected (see Toph's parents) and we see an inability to let go of a bad idea, or mitigate the consequences / think on the go when things that were clearly bad ideas go bad in ways anyone with a non-earthbender brain can see coming a mile off (think The Avatar State episode). Earth digs in when it should retreat, stands solid when it should duck and weave. It is grounded to the point of stupidity (unless you're Toph or Bumi, although even Toph seems to be unbending so far). It's linear to the point of being unable to deviate from that line.

This is me guessing, but I figure since fire and water are opposites, air must be the opposite of earth, right? So while we'll never see airbending culture in a non-shrunk-down-to-one-person form, we can look at earthbending culture for its dark reflection. Well, probably not dark, but you get what I'm saying. They'll be opposites in world view. We can extrapolate.

So if earth is grounded, humourless, aggressively traditional, linear, then air must be constantly fluctuating, unchained, lighthearted, bonkers-all-over-the-place. The heaviness of earth would dictate that problems should be faced by digging in and facing them head on until the problem blinks first. The lightness of air would dictate that problems should be faced the opposite way: blinking first i.e. removing yourself from the problem entirely. The linearity of earth dictates that fights are solved by fighting - you punch me, I punch you. The non-linearity of air would seek to recontextualise a problem until it's no longer a problem because we all forgot what we were fighting about in the first place, i.e. throwing pies at it or busting out the marble trick. The heaviness of earth would cause excessive earthly attachment; the lightness of air would cause excessive detachment from worldly concerns.

To start violence is to make a statement that you wish to be involved. It's rooting yourself to a particular dispute, choosing a hill to die on. It stems from attachment. This is earthbendery behaviour (and Zuko-y, but let's not go there). To never start violence is to never invest, never dig in your feet and make a stand. To be detached. (I'm oversimplifying here.) It's clear from in-show examples that Aang's pacifism is of the "ladies don't start fights but they can finish them" variety; he's got no problem with self-defence (caveat: we have no idea how typical an air nomad Aang was). But he never attacks first that I can think of.

Violence is a very direct tool. If someone starts a fight with you, and you decide to continue it, you're choosing the most obvious action. Since when is airbending direct or obvious?

All this to say, I think that pacifism, peace and love, monkiness, etc., was more likely a natural and inevitable outgrowth of air nomad culture, caused by constant culture / element interaction, rather than a conscious choice.

So I think airbenders "have gone so hard into the peace-and-love monk thing" because the nature of their element creates a culture that discourages the traits required for effective offensive violence, and the inherent detachment and ever-changing nature of air naturally encouraged spiritual (i.e. monkly) pursuits rather than earthly ones, like whatever the conflict of the week is. I don't think self-awareness of the dangers of their element factors into it. Not to take away from Gyatso's accomplishment, but I think air is nowhere near the most dangerous element. From what I've seen so far that would be Fire or Earth, though I'd give the edge to Fire because they self-generate, and also because they've spent a largely successful century dominating the other elements. Waterbenders and earthbenders can be neutralised by taking away their element; airbenders - due to the very nature of their element - probably can't get past that initial avoid and evade instinct to become legitimate offensive threats.

As for Gyatso, I think he's an outlier. We know little about him so far, but we do know that: a) Aang says he's the best airbender (in I think the Southern Air Temple?); b) he's good enough that he was granted a statue while he was still living, learning, improving; and c) he's good enough that the monkly council (of which he is part) granted him the honour/responsibility of being the quasi-dad of the Avatar. These things tell me that Gyatso was the Spiders Georg of the Airbenders. I suspect Bumi is the same for the Earthbenders, and at least as far as the philosophy of bending is concerned, Iroh may be so for Firebenders. Even the example of Gyatso nuking the comet-enhanced firebenders is a case of defensive action in ultra extraordinary circumstances: he was staring into the teeth of a genocide while mourning the disappearance of his quasi-son and the likely loss of the world's only hope / chance at stopping the war. That's how far you have to push an airbender before they'll take a life. Unless the Avatar world pre-war is a lot more godawful than Aang has implied, airbenders probably wouldn't have been taking lives frequently enough for them to get to the point where they would have to start questioning whether they should consider pacifism.

I think what this fandom idea ultimately is, is a desire for the hidden badass trope. Everyone loves it when the most peaceful character in the story is revealed to secretly be a Rambo-level fighting badass, right? Who didn't love it when kindly grandpa Roku manifested in his temple and unleashed a volcano? But I think this trope fundamentally takes something away from the appreciation of Airbending, Air Nomad culture, and the concept of Pacifism as a whole. This is just my interpretation, but applying the "secretly the deadliest all along!" trope to airbenders undermines their commitment to pacifism and makes it performative rather than earnest. It's a cop out; an acknowledgement that violence actually is the answer, and even those head-in-the-clouds monks know to use it when the chips are down. This show goes out of its way to show that non-combatants have value and a place in this world that's worth fighting for, that fighting goes way too far pretty frequently, that non-violent solutions are valid, even preferable. It would kind of undermine that message if all of the elements were easily weaponisable.

Something I've loved so far about Avatar is the show's earnestness. There have been no Marvel-style fakeout bathos plots. I feel making airbending secretly the deadliest element or similar would be exactly that sort of thing. Can't my pacifists be peaceful not because they're secretly untouchable badasses who carry the biggest stick, whom the rest of the world leaves alone out of fear, who are not a threat only because they have chosen not to be, but because that's just who they are?

On the other hand: Aang's been a one-man-army plenty of times. We've seen that; that's undeniable. So air is stupidly powerful as an element. No denying that. Gyatso did murder a bunch of people trying to kill him, so air can be deadly. But I don't think your typical airbender could be deadly. If you gave a can of airbending to a firebender, an earthbender, or even a particularly provoked waterbender, I don't doubt that they could kill people with it. But the culture that the element generated - rather than a conscious choice by that culture's participants - prevents them from taking the direct, violent, solution. And I think that culture developed in tandem with airbending, so there could not have been a time when airbenders were deadly as a rule. Air shaped airbenders as much as airbenders shaped air, and it shaped them into non-violent people.

There's a lot of power in the idea of consciously choosing, and sticking to, something that is perhaps not in line with your natural abilities. Styling airbenders as deadly-but-choosing-peace is a great way to explore themes of agency, identity, strength of character, morals, maturity, etc. But, to me, there's also a lot of power in the idea that some people just can't - not won't, but CAN'T - fight their way out of things, and this doesn't make it any less wrong to genocide the crap out of them.

If the fandom wants to headcanon airbenders as secret badasses who consciously choose nonviolence, I say a) go ahead! there's more than enough evidence to support that conclusion; b) I respectfully disagree; and c) is Iroh not enough?

tl;dr in my opinion, air's pacifism was a natural outgrowth of, and restriction imposed by, the element rather than a conscious choice; airbending can be deadly but airbenders aren't; Gyatso is not representative; 'speak softly and carry a big stick' is all well and good as a philosophy, but those who speak softly and don't have a stick are of value too.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #ask #PLEASE let this not start drama #just my opinion guys!#remember I'm not yet halfway through season 2 so maybe a later episode will disprove everything I've said! Who knows! Not me!#Also I don't know anything about Eastern Philosophy which this show undoubtedly references frequently #in a way that completely goes over my head #so I may have made some entirely incorrect assumptions in this post #oops!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

The Happy Couple 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I make no promise and am just following a whim.

Summary: Your father makes a deal to marry you to his top capo. (mob au)

Warnings: dark elements such a mob business and intimidation, spanking, threats. More to be added as they become relevant. You know what I write typically so you know what to expect.

Thank you all for the encouragement and I hope you enjoy.❤️

"Get out, sweetheart," Bucky rests his hand on the car door, his other on his belt.

"You can't," you whine, "please…"

"Baby, I thought you understood–"

"Oh my god," your eyes are bleary as tears prick, "no, please," you cling to the seat as he grabs your other arm, his men swarming behind him in endless activity, "I can't– my father–"

"Get out of this car right now, princess, or I'll be happy to help you out."

"No," you snarl as your disbelieving grief spikes to hot fury, "no! You're despicable! A monster–"

"Your puppy dog face and tantrums aren't going to work on me," he huffs and bends, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging you out of the car, "you better clean up your act fast."

You stumble in your heels and fall against him. You pull your hands away from his chest and hit hit, "no! I won't behave! I won't! You lied to me– aah!"

You squeal as he lifts you suddenly, hauling you over his shoulder as you squirm and kick. Cool air flows up your skirt and tickles across your bare ass. You whimper and claw at the back of Bucky’s jacket.

"I gave you a chance to be good," he curls an arm around your legs and his other hand crawls higher, feeling along your smooth skin, "don't worry, I got a thing for taming the stubborn ones."

"Ew, get– let me go!"

"Where you gonna go, princess?" He climbs the steps to the front door, a man standing watch outside, "all your daddy's men who didn't flip got the same treatment he did."

"But–" you tug at the bottom of his jacket futilely, "why– what about me?"

He crosses the entryway and climbs the left arm of the double stairway. You jostle with his motion, your head pooling and pulsing with the rush of blood.

"I told you already. You're mine and I'll take care of you," he slaps your ass as your skirt rumbles above, offering a generous view of everything, "one way or the other."

He takes you past your bedroom and into the master, your father's room. He carries you to the bed and throws you down. You bounce and bite your tongue as you tug your skirt down to hide your naked pelvis.

"So, I'm gonna ask you one last time and I want you to think about it because this isn't something I usually ask. Let alone twice. Do we do this the hard way," he shuts the door, keeping his hand on the handle as he turns back to glance at you, "or the…harder way?"

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and pout, "Bucky, please, I'm so scared–"

"Ah, don't you try that with me," he wags his finger at you as he comes near, "I've seen it before, remember? 'Oh, daddy, please, you don't understand. I need this purse! Please can't I have your credit card?'" He mimics in an exaggerated cadence, "I got no problem with you calling me daddy but you won't play me like him," he grabs your chin and forces your head up, "got it?"

You push your bottom lip out and bat your lashes, "Bucky…"

"Shhh," he hushes you as he drags his thumb up to your lower lip, "you're only making me harder."

He pokes his thumb into your mouth and hums. He pushes down on your tongue as you stare up at him. He only wanted to get you out of the house so he could tear apart your life. It's all a trick.

You bite down on his knuckle and he yowls as he rips his hand away from you. He shakes his fingers and curses as you stand and clack on your heels around him. You hurry as fast as you can for the door but your Louboutins make each step a task.

He catches you around the waist and lifts you off your feet. He flings you around and you land once more on the bed, nearly bouncing back off. You're left dizzy by the motion and sit up quivering to face him.

"Oh, princess, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into," he unbuckles his belt and pulls it free of his pants. He folds it and snaps it between his hands, "show me that precious little ass and I'll try not to make it bleed."

"No!" You lean back on your elbows and kick out, your shoe jabbing his side. You roll over and fall off the bed, kicking free of your clunky heels.

He coughs and snarls, "you little– you're asking for it."

You turn on your knees and grab your stiletto, "leave me alone!"

You whip the shoe at him and he barely blocks it as it nearly pings off his head, "hey!" He points at you again, "settle down!"

"No, I'm not listening to you! You're just a liar!" You get to your feet, your other heel in hand, "I'm not your princess."

"You're a spoiled fucking brat," he slaps the belt against his hand as he closes in.

"No, you!" You swing and catches the heel of the shoe before it can meet his chest. He snaps off the red stiletto and you cry out, "hey! That's designer!" You swing again with the amputated sole, "how–" you hit his hand, "dare–" you hit his forearm, –you!"

He sweeps your strike away and throws out the belt like a lasso, tugging it down as it hits your head, and tightens it to the buckle. You gasp and grab the leather as it draws your fingers tight to your neck. He jerks you forward. You stumble and flail out as you collide with him.

He yanks on the belt and forces your head up. You whimper and your fingers tingle numbly as the leather digs into your neck. He smirks and snarls down at you, "this is going to be fun, baby. You just made damn sure of that."

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barners #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #series #the happy couple #mob au #au #mcu #marvel #avengers #dark drabble #dark!drabble #captain america #winter soldier

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klonnieshippersclub · 2 months

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what do you think bonnie's main element (the one she connects to easiest basically) is? i personally think it's air but i'm curious on your opinion she seems to connect to all of them well although i don't think we've ever seen her do something with water

Bonnie’s main element is fire. We haven’t seen her utilize water as much but she did turn water into fire when threatening Shane. In the previous seasons Bonnie was able to turn gas into fire when she was snapping off at Damon. Bonnie destroyed hell. She’s the queen of fire.

This was just an act of foreplay. This is where Klonnie should have began. Right here. Pure enemies to lovers slow-burn. Greta has just died, there’s a new powerful witch in Klaus eyes. Klaus isn't sure if he's feeling hot from the flames or if it's arousal.

TVD as a series concludes with Bonnie mastering and defeating hellfire. Her ancestors were massacred by the same flames. Bonnie was able to avenge them with her victory. In this moment, Bonnie becomes her true self: the Psychic-Witch.

#bonnie bennett #the vampire diaries #tvd #rikkisinbox #anon ask

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hawkflame999 · 3 months

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Ninjago Headcanons 13-16

#13:

“Elemental Master” is actually just the formal version of it. It’s really just “Elemental”.

So like, (going randomly) “Elemental Master of Ice”, is how they say it when they have to be formal. But otherwise, it’s just “Elemental of Ice”.

Every single Elemental in existence hates, just hates the formal version since it makes it sound like their power can be learned by literally anyone instead of inherited or chosen-by-previous-Elemental-of-(blank).

(like, they still have to learn to control it, but you get it)

I repeat, they HATE it.

#14:

The six have a LOT of nicknames for eachother, the number is INSANE.

But there are several nicknames that are solely passed down from Elemental to Elemental.

These are: Zane’s: Ice, White, Blizzard, Ice Dragon, and Frost.

Kai: Fire, Red, and Fire Dragon. (sry couldn’t come up with any more.)

Cole: Earth, Rock, Cave, Stone, Black, Mountain, and Earth Dragon.

Jay: Lightning, Thunder, (sry i couldn’t resist) Cyan, Electricity, Blackout, and Lightning Dragon,

Nya: Water, Sea, River, (other names of bodies of water) Pond, Stream, Ocean, (they stopped using that one after Seabound) Lake, Rain, and Water Dragon. Me: *says “other names of body of water” but proceeds to type those anyway* Lloyd: Green, Energy, Life, (A lot of Lloyd’s nicknames are related to his element because he’s the first Energy Ninja in existence)

#15:

As for the other nicknames….. >:D Zane: Frosty, Whiteout, Ice Cube, Ninjacle, (reference to Pilots, I think) Ice Tornado, Icicle, Snowy, Snow, Falcon Boy, Braincell-Number-One (I think that last one is Sensei G’s fault) Tincan, and Polar Bear. Those are the ones I came up with on the spot.

Another inside-joke-nickname is Living Ice Cube or Alive Ice Cube.

Kai: Flamethrower, Fiery, Hothead, Campfire, Hot Air, and Fire Tornado.

Another inside-joke-nickname is Living Flamethrower or Alive Flamethrower.

Cole: Rocky, Rockman, Rockman, Dirtbrain, Dirtclod, Mud, Rockslide, Earthquake, Earth Tornado, Righty and Lefty (reference to Earth Punch) and Boulder.

Another inside-joke-nickname is Living Rock or (the one they used the most) Alive Rock or Alive Mountain..

Jay: Sparky, Sparks, Zaptrap, Zappy, Shock, Blackout, (Jay had caused many, after all) JJ, Jaybird, Insane Idea Man, Blabbermouth, Stormy, Bolt, and Lightning Tornado.

Another inside-joke-nickname is Living Lightning Bolt or Alive Lightning Bolt.

Nya: Mostly the ones up above, except they also call her Water Tornado, Braincell-Number-Two, (I think that last one is Sensei G’s fault), and Tsunami.

Another inside-joke-nickname is Alive Tsunami and Living Tsunami.

Lloyd: Green Bean, Bush, Grasshopper, Buddy, Kiddo (Also Sensei G’s fault), Little Brother, (ALL OF THE OTHEٍR FIVE WITH USE THAT ON HIM) Incarnation of the Word Hyperactive, Nephew, (MASTER WU WILL NEVER LET THAT ONE UP) and so many more, if i tried to type them all my fingers would fall off.

#16:

Master Wu has his nicknames for the six. Even as they got older, he never did and probably never will let up on them.

Zane: “Young/ Little Frost."

Kai: “Young/Little Flame."

Cole: “Young/Little Rock (Sry could not come up with better)

Jay: “Young/Little Spark.

Nya: “Young/Little Drop (AARRRRHHGG CAN'T COME UP WITH BETTER)

Lloyd: “Young/Little Burst (Y’know BURST of Energy)

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 3 months

Text

A Case of the Exam Season Blues

A New Installment to the Once In A Blue Moon Anthology

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Description: You've never realized how much you relied on Jake to keep you on track without running yourself into the ground before this moment. But he's in New York, working on a high profile case for his firm. You're still in San Diego, working yourself to the bone to graduate. School is hard. Correction, it is really fucking hard. What can you do when your worries that Jake will miss your graduation couple with your stressing over your degree?

Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship turned full relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one.

This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 5035

A/N: Here we go again! Once again, my lovely houseplant @desert-fern crawled into my asks and asked me to write her a oneshot where Baby Blue graduates and where Jake is cheering her on in the audience. Can I just say that the reward and dom/sub elements in the story were not in my plan?

Chronologically, this story is between the events of Mm, Daddy Daddy and Money, Money, Money.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

You hate exam season. You hate it with as much passion as your exhausted, wrung-out soul can muster. You thought exams were challenging when you were an undergraduate. The all-nighters, caffeine-fueled paper writing sessions, studying and writing until the words swam before your eyes and your eyes were gritty from lack of sleep seemed like torture then. If only you could know that there would come a time when you would long for those days again. Because doing the same while preparing to defend your Master’s thesis? It feels like a torture worse than death itself. You still have the exams and the papers, but now, at the end of it all, rather like the icing on top of the saddest cake you’ve ever seen, you have an interview with the thesis review board to approve your Master’s degree.

You feel like you’re at the end of your wits. Your sanity is fraying faster than the cheapest rope, disintegrating into a mess of strings that seem to snarl your every thought and movement. It doesn’t help that you’re all alone in the big penthouse apartment, either. Jake’s working on an important case in New York, so he’s been out of the state, in the City that Never Sleeps, for the past month and a half. You miss him like you’ve never missed anyone before. It feels like a part of your very psyche is missing. The scent of his cologne, the bitter almond and saffron with undertones of jasmine and cedar you've come to love so much, still spills through the air. It permeates the shirts hanging in the closet, organized by color and purpose. It’s on the pillows of the big bed you starfish on when your eyes are too heavy to keep open, and you have to steal a half-hour nap here and there to keep yourself functioning. But it’s not the same as having Jake home with you.

He’d hate what you’re doing to yourself. He’d hate that you study for hours, sometimes days at a time, without pause, forgetting to sleep, eat, or complete anything necessary for basic hygiene. If Jake were here, you can almost hear the admonishments, the way he’d push you into a hot bath filled with bubbles. You can almost feel the careful pressure of his hands in your hair, the way he’d wash you clean before quieting your mind in only the way he can, with soft words and sweet kisses, drugging your body with his own until there’s nothing left in your head except for exhaustion and him. But he's not here.

Jake's been in depositions and meetings from early in the morning to late at night, and you can't, you won't disturb him when he's on a case that could decide his whole career. The three-hour time difference doesn't help either. Either you're sleeping - fitfully, barely - when he calls, or he's busy when you do. So you've had to con yourself, delude yourself into believing you can make do. You've completed years of grueling coursework without a cheerleader before, right? So how come it feels like an insurmountable obstacle the minute your one cheerleader has to go on a business trip for a bit over a month? You're stronger than that. You're better than that.

Your thesis will be done and defended in three days, and you'll have a Master's Degree in Marine Biology. Two days after that, Jake will be home. Home in time for graduation. Home for hopefully a good long while, and you're not going to let him out of bed until you can't feel your feet anymore and have slept for at least 48 hours.

Three days to your degree and five until you’ll see Jake again. It's a motto you find yourself chanting mindlessly as you chug down energy drinks and scarf down instant ramen when your stomach growls disinterestedly between bouts of review and last-minute paper edits. Three Days. Then Two.

It may not have been healthy, but it worked. The door latches with a soft snick as you tiredly kick your heels off. The wool of your skirt itches, and the button-down and cardigan you're wearing to complete the outfit feel like the most oppressive pieces of fabric you've ever worn. There's concealer caked under your eyes in a futile effort to hide the dark, deep-set bags. Your hands tremble as you remove your jewelry, and your fingers are uncooperative as they fight with the tiny latches and closures.

But you did it. Your exams are done, every single research paper has been submitted with perfect APA formatting, and your thesis has been approved. You're done with school. A part of you can’t believe it. If you squint, you're pretty sure you can still see your thesis in front of your eyes. Hell, you're sure if you get a couple of drinks in you, you could probably recite the damn thing, all thirty-plus pages and citations from memory. The first thing you'd done once you'd left the building was text Jake the news before you headed home. Now all you want is to sleep and then eat your weight in something home-cooked. The order is non-negotiable - you're sleeping first, even if it feels like your stomach will stage a rebellion and make you walk the plank!

You're less than gentle as you rip all the clothes off, leaving a trail of dour black fabric behind you as you walk into the ensuite. Your motions are mechanical as you roughly swipe the makeup off of your face and collapse into bed wearing just your panties. The mattress feels like heaven, the fabric cushioning your every curve until you feel like you could float away at the slightest provocation. Your eyes are even heavier than they were a minute ago, and you're nearly asleep when your phone rings.

“Baby Blue,” Jake’s groaning into the phone, his voice gritty and deep, indescribably sweet as it spills down the microphone. “You beautiful, gorgeous thing. You did it! You’re graduating! You’ve got your Master’s degree!”

He sounds so excited, even though he must be exhausted. It’s already 7 PM in San Diego, which means it must be around 10 PM in New York, and you can still hear the sounds of the office around him in the background.

“I did it, Jake.” You’re barely able to muster the requisite enthusiasm for your latest accomplishment.

“You did, beautiful girl. You did it!” His sigh sounds so fond, and you can hear the creak of the chair as he closes the door and another squeak as he settles back into the chair. “Now, why aren’t you as happy about it as I am, honey?”

“I - I am happy, Jake. But I’m just so tired right now. I just want you home. I want to sleep for a good long while, and then, maybe then, I’ll finally be happy, Jake.” Tears are gathering in your eyes to your embarrassment, and there is a heavy pressure on your chest.

“Awww, baby doll. It’s alright to feel exhausted and numb about what’s happening right now. You sound shattered, sweetheart. Definitely tired, and maybe a little bit like you haven’t been taking care of yourself, right?” You just hum in response, something lighting up inside your chest as your sniffling hum makes Jake chuckle.

“It’s been hell for me, too.” You can almost picture it, how he’s leaning back in the chair, his tie undone with his hand in his hair. More than his pose, though, you’re sure you can see the exhales of breath inflating his chest, stretching taut the crisp button-down shirt he’s wearing. You’re just as sure that there are bags under his eyes that are a perfect match to your own. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, my Baby Blue.”

“God, I miss walking into the apartment at night to the sight of you in the kitchen, shaking that ass to music playing while cooking, belting the words at the top of your lungs. I miss the sleepy weekend afternoons when you had your head buried in one of your books on the sofa while I was working at the table. And fuck, sweetheart, I miss waking up to you in bed next to me.”

Shit, you love this man. His voice has you aching and longing in minutes. “Yeah? I miss you too, Jake. I don’t sleep as well without you in bed with me.”

“I'll be home soon, sweetheart. I'm not going to miss seeing you walk across that stage. Sleep tight!” The screen goes dark as Jake hangs up, and your final thought is how, if you weren’t exhausted, at least Jake would have made sure you got off. But it's not a problem. You'll make sure to show him how much you missed him when he gets home.

Of course, you’re not sure when Jake will be home. He promised he’d be home to see you walk the stage for your graduation. He promised. But you’re lined up alphabetically in your cap and gown, the nylon fabric stifling in the San Diego heat. You keep nervously checking your phone, but there’s been radio silence. You’re done with school, and you should be ready to celebrate. But you’re not sure you can - not without Jake. The nerves are swarming like butterflies in your stomach, but you have a feeling that what you’re feeling isn’t just nerves but disappointment. Your family hadn’t been able to fly to San Diego for graduation, opting to watch the video feed instead and call you later.

So you’re alone in this big auditorium—just you, wearing your horrible graduation robes, dark purple dress, and nude pumps. You aren’t even wearing any lingerie underneath the dress for Jake. More likely than not, you’re going to be going home alone, and the only person who’s going to see you in this dress is the mirror for a second time as you crawl into bed, buck-naked. You have to screw your face into a pleasant expression as the dean and your program heads each give their speeches and as you stand for the school anthem. The whole time, you're praying it'll be over soon so you can Uber home and face-plant into bed before you burst into tears.

Your grin is forced as your row stands and progresses sedately down the aisle. You thank the dean and your program head, smiling for the camera, hoping your mom won't pick up on how melancholy you are as she sees you walk across the television screen. You let your grimace drop the minute you're back in your seat. You scramble for your phone, pulling it out. There are loads of messages - from your parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and close friends back home, all overflowing with congratulations - it wouldn’t surprise you if your parents made an event of your graduation. You can almost see your childhood living room decked out in the school colors, everyone overage with a drink in their hands as they toast to your success. But there is nothing at all from Jake. This isn’t like him, not at all. But it’s a Tuesday, and he’s probably at work or in the courtroom. For all you know, he might even be on a plane home at the very moment.

You're on autopilot as you flip the tassel over to the other side and toss your beadboard hat into the air. Soon after, the hall is inundated with everyone here. You're still exhausted, and your social battery is far from charged as you battle your way through the crowd. The sudden influx of people is too much, too soon. You feel lonely and cold as you skirt around groups of people, holding your phone to your ear as you call Jake. Each ring makes your heart sink lower and lower.

On the outskirts of the crowd, you keep calling your boyfriend. But you think you must be hearing things because the more you call, the more you hear Jake’s ringtone. He’s not here, and you’re sure of that fact. Jake is still in New York or on a plane. If he is in the building, why didn’t he come to find you right after the ceremony was over? Why aren’t you being hugged and kissed like you so badly want to be?

You’re fighting back tears, eyes burning as you push your way through the crowd. Nobody notices your distress or pain, even as you pass friends, your lab colleagues, and even your professors. You feel like you can finally breathe in the outskirts of the arena, and you tug your robe off with no little relief. That's when you see Jake standing there wearing a blue suit, a huge smile, and a bouquet of blue roses in his hands. Today, he cuts a gorgeous sight in the stadium, the navy blue fabric of his suit offsetting his gorgeous tan and fitted perfectly to his slim muscles. You faintly register your fellow graduates giggle at the sight of him because, damn, does he look too good to be true. But he only has eyes for you. Your heart skips a beat as you unbelievingly walk towards him.

“Happy Graduation, Baby Blue.” You collapse into his arms, your mortarboard hat crashing to the ground, not caring that Jake nearly drops the bouquets, petals cascading to the floor around you as you wrap your arms around him and hold tight like you can’t believe he’s there. His arms wrap securely around your frame as he presses gentle kisses against the top of your head. When you step away, he grins wide, dimples indenting his cheeks, fine wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes as he hands you the two bouquets. They haven’t lost many blossoms, and you tenderly bring the gossamer blooms to your face so you can sniff their beautiful scent.

“How did you get blue roses in San Diego in the middle of May?” He shrugs, smile softening at the sight of your face. You sniffle softly, and it feels like the rest of the world fades into silence. His hand rises to your face, carefully brushing your stray tears away. “For you, I’d do anything. Always. Today, when all I want is to celebrate all of your accomplishments? I’d do anything. So, I placed an order at a rosarium for their last bouquets of blue roses. I came straight here from the airport after picking it up. I didn’t get a seat, but I was standing at the back when you walked across the stage.”

This time, when you launch yourself at him, you’re smiling from ear to ear, and he’s laughing as he kisses you.

“Sweetheart, looking at you, I’d almost think you thought I wasn’t going to make it to your graduation!” He squeezes you around your waist and kisses your temple. You melt into the easy actions even as you momentarily hide your miserable thoughts from him. He’s right, though you’re not sure how he knew. You hadn’t expected Jake here today, and the lack of faith in the man you’re in love with stings in that place in your chest where your love for him grows. You feel guilty, plain and simple. The more you find yourself looking into those clear green eyes, the worse you feel. It’s only a matter of time before Jake discovers your deceit and before he tries to hold you accountable for your disloyalty.

“C’mon, baby.” He grabs your mortarboard and robe from the floor in one hand and wraps the other around your shoulder. Obviously, he wants to have this conversation far away from the crowds of giggling girls and proud, crowing parents.

You’re walking through the parking lot in the blistering San Diego sunshine, sniffing at the tender blossoms of your bouquets, when Jake speaks again.

“Baby Blue. I want you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” You nod because, over the past year and some change in your relationship with Jake, you’ve come to recognize the promise in that dark, sweet tone. “It sounds to me like you’ve been tired and stressed while I’ve been in New York. I know you haven’t been eating properly or sleeping properly. My baby Blue’s not been taking care of herself, has she?” He says it like it’s a fact and not a question, confident like he knows exactly what the answer is. “Maybe somebody should take their bratty baby in hand and show her how much she’s loved?”

You nod carefully, letting Jake crowd you up against a hot vehicle in the lot. His hands keep you from burning yourself on the hot metal, and when he tips your head up and to the side so he can kiss your throat, you realize you're pressed up against Jake's truck. How come you didn't notice? When Jake pulls away and smirks at you, you nod in response to his question, each jolt of your head punctuated by greedy, heaving breaths.

“Use your words, Baby Blue.” Jake’s eyes aren't the soft sage green you've come to adore, the color darkening until it’s the green of forest undergrowth, dark and rich. The heat in those cool, dark green eyes makes your voice dry up in your throat.

“I- I'd like that very much, Sir.” He kisses you once more, a firm yet tender press of his lips against yours at your polite response. “Get in the car, baby.”

Arousal swims in your veins, heady and potent, as you clamber into the seat and buckle up. He sets the bouquets carefully in the backseat along with your mortarboard, certificate of graduation, and robe. When Jake slips into the driver's seat with a heated look, you shiver in the seat. The A/C kicks on when the engine does, blasting cold air over your bare arms and legs. But you were shivering far before that, trapped by the heat in Jake's green gaze.

You can barely breathe by the time you get home. There's an ache between your thighs, and it feels like your entire body is strung tighter than a bowstring. Jake ushers you into the elevator, his hand a breath away from your skin for the entire ride up. It feels excruciatingly long, especially since you're rubbing your thighs together the whole way up. Jake's kept a low litany of filthy-tinged promises spilling into your ears, one brawny arm curled around your waist. When the door opens with a ding, you stumble, blue flowers nearly spilling out of your grasp as you toddle across the floor.

“Set the flowers in a vase, Baby Blue.” Jake's voice is a purr you couldn’t disobey if you tried. Your hands shake as you pull a vase out of one of the cabinets and fill it with water. You’re not sure you can think straight if you tried.

“Come here.”

Arousal curls wickedly through you as Jake pulls each of your shoes off, rubbing at the tense muscles of each calf. His hands leave burning trails across your skin as they trail up your sides. Your nipples furl into hard points, goosebumps rising up along your arms as he rises to look into your eyes.

“My beautiful, Baby Blue.” His cologne surrounds you in a heat-induced haze, big hands gentle as they tug your purple dress down until it pools around your bare feet. He growls when he sees what you're wearing under the dress, his breath hot against your bare skin.

“Fuck, baby doll. All this for me?”

You whimper, drugged by the feeling of one of his calloused fingers dragging torturously slowly over the peak of your bare breasts.

“Use your words, Baby Blue.”

“Y-yes.” You're stuttering, your knees close to giving out as he leads you towards the bedroom. This is even sexier, you're sure, because of how you're naked and he's not.

When he settles on the bed, jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and stares at you, you shiver again. Unbidden, you lean in, unconsciously chasing the feeling of his lips against yours. Jake lets you get close, close enough that your lips ghost over his. But you don’t get to kiss your boyfriend. His calloused fingers trap your right nipple, tugging gently at first, then pinching cruelly when you don't stop your crusade.

This time, your whine is of pain, pain which Jake soothes with broad strokes of his tongue against your abused flesh. Your arousal, which had been temporarily banished to the recesses of your mind by the sudden sharp sting of pain, slips to the forefront again.

“Baby Blue. Don’t be a brat.” His hands tip your chin up, squeezing your cheeks until your lips part and your eyes open to meet his. There's only the thinnest rim of green surrounding his pupils now. “I'm going to make you feel good, darling. I promised you I would. But we're doing so on my schedule, not yours. I'm aware how this greedy little pussy,” and oh, he's running his fingers through your folds in a way that makes your spine turn to water, “aches for me. But it's my greedy little pussy tonight. Not yours.”

You nod so hard you think you can feel your thoughts rattle.

“C'mere, darling.”

You fold into his arms easily, your hands resting obediently on his shoulders as your legs rest on either side of his slim hips. The new position puts your core in direct contact with the stiff bulge in Jake's perfectly tailored slacks, and you can feel his heat even through the layers of fabric.

“We're going to take things slow tonight.” Finally, he captures your lips in a kiss, teasing moans and whimpers from you as he plunders your mouth with teeth and tongue. You melt into him, carding your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, relishing in the prickle of his stubble across your cheeks and decolletage as he peppers kisses across your goosebump-covered skin. You lose yourself in the heady, tender kisses and the feeling of his mouth and hands all over you.

It comes to you in vignettes of color and sparks of sound, your memory of that first whirling orgasm. Jakes's moans when you grind down onto him. Your whines as he nips at your skin. His growl as you tug on his overly long hair. When he kneads your bare ass, you come with a scream, back arched, chest heaving, your cunt trembling from the aftershocks. Your eyes are blurry, and you can barely breathe as Jake kisses you again and again.

“Fuck, darling.” Jake’s growl makes your pussy pulse in need. “You came so hard you soaked my pants, Baby Blue.”

His voice darkens, the growl deepening as he manhandles you as he wants. “Did Sir tell you to come?”

With your ass up across his lap, nipples so hard the soft fabric of the slacks are nearly too much, you can’t reply. Jake's big hands smooth over the curve of your ass, making you whimper as they part your cheeks, long fingers delving through your wet folds and making you moan. Your eyes flutter closed until a sharp smack is delivered to your exposed cheeks. You jolt forward across his lap, a sharp gasp leaving your lips.

“Baby Blue, count your punishment for Sir.” Jake’s hands massage soothingly over your flushed skin. “Loud and proud, baby. We'll keep going until you say every number. We're going to ten. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes,” Your voice is a breathy gasp mixed with a moan as Jake's hands rub across your skin.

“Count, doll.”

The first official smack on your ass makes your skin prickle even more with arousal and, surprisingly, relief. “One”

Your skin feels hot and flushed. Your cunt twinges and throbs.

“T-two”

“Th-three, sir, please.”

“F-four, please, Jake!”

“F-five.”

You're sobbing, cheeks wet, ass stinging and heated, voice catching as you spit the numbers out.

“S-six. Seven. EIGHT. N-nine.”

“P-Please, Sir. I can’t. No more.”

“One more, my beautiful baby. You can do it.”

You’re babbling and sobbing as Jake smacks your sore ass one more time. You’re not sure you choked the last number out. You feel like you’re floating, every inch of your stress and worries over school, graduation, and when Jake will be home melting away. You grab at Jake's hands as he pulls you up until your face is pressed against his shoulder. Your ass burns as you perch on one of your boyfriend's thick thighs.

“Shit, baby doll.” You hum vacantly, snuggling against his shoulder, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt. He moves your face back and forth as he wipes away your tears. “You look so beautiful like this for me.”

“Wanna be beautiful for you, sir.” You’re slurring, words seeming to slip from between your dry lips unbidden.

“You’re so beautiful for me always, my Baby Blue.” He lays you carefully down on the cool satin sheets, fingers gentle as they trail over your bare skin.

“Can I show you how beautiful you are?” It’s a question. It's not an order. For the first time since your night began, you feel your arousal drain away.

“S-sir?” Your voice is hoarse and quiet. “C-can we cuddle? Missed feeling your hands on my skin. Missed feeling your skin against mine.”

“Of course, baby.” You watch while lying on your stomach as Jake strips off hurriedly, vacantly noting the dark patch at the front of his boxers. It’s quiet and dark in the room, and if you concentrate, you can hear clanking in the kitchen. He bustles back in with a tray in his hands but doesn’t stop to do more than kick off his boxers. When he walks back in from the bathroom, this time with a cool, soft cloth that he lays on your aching ass, you hum, lifting yourself up on your elbows and pursing your lips instinctively.

“You came?” Unbidden, Jake swoops in to kiss your pursed lips.

“Of course I did. You looked so beautiful for me, my Baby Blue.” He shrugs, a chuckle shaking the bed as he drags the cloth across your skin, leaving a cool, soothing dampness behind. “Seeing you come like that, in my lap? It was too much to handle.”

“You have no idea how in love with you I am, do you, Blue?” You slide under the sheets, taking your customary position with your back against his chest. You’re both seated, for now, in a position that allows Jake to press the cool juice from a glass against your lips. You sip until you’re sated, nibbling on the cheese and crackers he hands you obediently. “I’m not sure I ever told you why I was on icanbeyourbaby.com all that time ago.”

He chuckles at your open mouth as he presses a cherry onto your awaiting tongue. “It was a dare, in all honesty.”

You turn in unease at his words, needing to see his face all of a sudden. Your chest is tight, and it feels like you’re struggling to breathe at the connections your mind is making because of his words. He pecks the tip of your nose, still smiling even at your confusion and the hurt pout on your lips. One big hand finds your hip as he sets the bowl of cherries back on the tray.

“To be clear, sweetheart, you weren’t a bet. Joining icanbeyourbaby was.” All of a sudden, you find you can breathe again.

“You remember Bradshaw from work?” You nod because Bradley Bradshaw is Jake’s biggest competition to make partner at the firm. “He got tired of seeing me in the office at all hours of day and night, working endlessly. Before I met you, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t home more than once a week. I napped on the sofa in my office, and I used the gym in the building to shower. I didn’t have a life. You, my gorgeous Baby Blue, changed everything. You made this lonely apartment home. You made me want to live my life and, moreover, made me want to enjoy the life I have.”

Your face feels red hot and flushed as you bury it into his shoulder. He still smells like his cologne, and his skin is smooth and warm.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, sweetheart.” His chuckles shake your body.

“I love you, my Baby Blue.” You smile in your curled-up position against his smooth, warm shoulder. “Anything you need, I will make sure you get.”

“And I promise you, I will always be there to support you.”

You sniffle, and that small sound is enough to have Jake pulling you up until he can see your eyes. His hands cup your face and brush away your tears once again.

“I'm sorry, Jake.”

“What're you apologizing for, baby doll?” He sounds adorably confused.

“I should never have doubted you. You're so sweet and kind and worldly. Meanwhile, there's me. I just graduated from school, and I feel like I barely know what I'm doing with my life.”

You press your hand over his mouth because you can tell he's gearing up to say something. “Wait, wait, wait! It's true, I don't know what I'm going to do next. I'm just tired of this relationship always being you taking care of me. You say I've changed your life. But I didn't even do it consciously. But since the day we met, you've been taking care of me over and over again.”

“Sweetheart, our relationship has us both on an equal playing field.” His eyes are beseeching as he holds you securely against him. “We’re in this together. It doesn’t matter that we're in different stages of our lives. The only thing that matters is how much we love each other.”

Much later that night, after a bath and a massage, your limbs feeling like jelly as you melt into bed, Jake's words stick with you. It's at that moment that you vow to be the best girlfriend and partner you can be. No matter what happens, you'll be there for Jake, however, and whenever he needs it.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, AO3 AND WATTPAD BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, AO3 AND WATTPAD BY ME, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #once in a blue moon #a case of the exam season blues #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman smut #jake seresin smut

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bunnypansy · 6 months

Text

Unbalanced Diet

Rated NC-17, read at your own RISK!

This is a dark fic, read ALL of the warnings before you consume. If anything mentioned in the warnings makes you uncomfortable, TURN AWAY. As a creator, I do not condone the things I write about, though that should be obvious enough.

That being said, welcome dear viewers, to our special Halloween showing! You and Rook are celebrating your one year anniversary together with a delicious dinner and a bit of intimacy afterward. Though this film contains romantic elements, make no mistake, this is a horror movie, intended to disturb and discomfort the audience. Featuring: Rook Hunt, and you, dear viewer, with minor cameos from from guest stars Vil Shoenheit and Neige Leblanche Beware! This film contains: Dead dove do not eat, non-con/dubious consent, non-consensual touching, kidnapping, unwilling cannibalism, sexual reactions to cannibalism, drinking blood, blood/injury, implied murder/torture, implied ptsd/flashbacks, controlling/toxic relationship, starvation as manipulation, physical/mental abuse, dissociation, Rook being generally fucking terrifying, implied existence of ghosts??? sexual biting, nipple play, light infantilization, sadism, blood kink, dacryphilia, blood as lube, teasing, oral (reader receiving), cis!male!reader, the french language, dog/master metaphors

“I love you.” You know. It sits on your tongue like a stone in your mouth.

He says it everyday, his devotion total, complete, unwavering; it should be admirable. At first, you tried to count how many times he said it, tally marks carved in the grooves on your brain- you lost track four days in.

Warm hands creep under the hem of your silken robe, roughed palms smoothing over your cold shoulders, a honeyed voice whispering in your ear. “I love you more than anything, mon amour.”

The silence of anticipation is loud, but you stay quiet, even as Rook’s warm hands wander their way down your chest and the white silk falls away, feeling more like a wildfire on your skin. Bare legs and arms are laid open the frigid air of the dining room and you sink back against the fine oaken dinner chair, as if trying to steal Rook’s heat through the seat back.

His hot fingers pause over your stiffened nipples, still tender and aching. “It’s our anniversary today, darling.”

“It-” There’s a little flick over the swollen nub as you try to answer, Rook just wants to hear you stumble for him, watch you squirm. “It is?”

“Oui, c'est le cas.” Idly, thumbs brush back and forth over your sensitive nipples, slow and patient. “Every moment of this year with you has been utter bliss, mon amour, beyond ecstasy.”

“For this momentous occasion,” Rook’s lips press against your temple, the crest of your ear, your jaw, “I believe a special meal is an order, non?” Then finally land on the column of your throat.

The points of his teeth nip at your thin skin, a soft pinch, soothed with the flick of his tongue. A kiss from any other man would be so sweet. You shiver under his touch, from the crisp air or the terror you can’t decide. When you swallow back a distressed noise Rook can feel your throat bob under his tongue, teeth scraping against your Adam's apple, eager for a bite. You wonder how exactly he wants you.

All at once the heat of his breath disappeared from your skin and Rook’s weathered hands returned to your shoulders, pulling up your silken robe to once more cover your skin. “I’ll get started on dinner then, don’t go anywhere mon chéri!” He laughs, and it’s not funny.

You listen, listless, as heavy work boots stalk away from you; the steps are slow and deliberate, as if he wants you to hear exactly where he's going. Five long strides behind you, then three more to the left and… he's passed the kitchen. There’s a sort of rhythmic pounding in your skull, it might be your pulse, but your brain had it confused for the beat of Rook’s boots against the hardwood as he stalks down the hall. The footsteps fade but the throbbing in your head stays, freshly renewed as a weighty metallic click meets your ears, and paired with a profound tightness in your chest when you realize Rook has opened the door to the basement. Beyond that, he’s left the door open, which he’s done before- how many times you’re not sure.

All at once you’re pulled to the mouth of the basement again. Now is your chance, maybe your only chance, since Rook wasn’t home. Your sheer silken socks did little to protect the soft soles of your feet from the splintered wood on the first step. How odd, the rest of the house is in mint condition, but this corridor is left in disrepair. As you felt along the wall for a light switch, you came to the realization that perhaps the basement hall had never been in repair; your groping did not reveal a lightswitch, rather that the walls were unfinished. Fingers grazed the flesh and bones of the house, a wooden skeleton filled with soft insulation in its gaps. The foundation groaned, perhaps a reaction to touching the open cavity in the wall, perhaps a warning to turn away. You felt around a moment longer but there was no light switch to be found. You’d continue in the dark.

At your back, the creaking of the steps and rattle of chains followed close on your heels, you were terribly aware that if you needed to run, you’d be doomed. The length of chain was too short for a full stride. It rubbed, cold and insistent over your ankles, a reminder. In front of you, only blackness, a warning.

The entire world seemed to disappear behind you as you delved deeper into the intestines of the house, and the farther you went, the more alive it felt- and God did you go far. The basement stairwell seemed to stretch on into the abyss ad infinitum, it gave you plenty of time to reconsider your choice, especially when the air began to change around you. Where the house above retained a cold, sterile feeling, the narrow passage of the stairwell grew warm and humid the further you pushed on. Soon enough it took on a putrid stench, growing in strength with every step; by the time you reached the foot of the stairs it was so potent you had to suppress the urge to gag. Rancid eggs or animal feces or something of the like: you could name a thousand things as olid and never once touch the intensity with which the basement reeked that night. While you couldn’t logically place the smell, a deep instinctual part of your brain put a name to the stench as easily as you took a breath. Something had died here.

A wave of nausea rocked over you so violently that you blindly grabbed for the wall to steady yourself, surprised when you found a thin metal chain in your grasp. Before you could properly debate with yourself, something cool brushed across the back of your neck; too light to be a sigh, yet too undefined to be a gust of wind- how would the bowels of the house even get fresh air? It felt more like someone letting go of something they had held onto for a long time, a final exhale. Or maybe it was nothing, you’re not sure you want to know.

“...Hello?” Your voice sounded miniscule in the face of the unending blackness.

Anxiously, you waited for a reply- rather a lack thereof. Your ears caught the sound of buzzing insects, you became aware of the flitting gnats and flies as they zipped past your face, the lack of ventilation, the-

“Turn on the light.” Rook was not home.

You kept taking in breaths to scream, but the noise remained stuck in your throat, only making awkward, fish-like gasps that left you lightheaded. The dark, the bugs, the smell, it was messing with you. There was nothing down there. There was no one down there. There couldn’t be. To die in that basement, surrounded by the rancid air, losing count of the days- could there be a more horrible fate? Would it be worse to live here, or die here; you’re no longer sure.

Thin, cold hands slithered over your shoulders- Rook wasn’t supposed to be home -slid over the expanse of your collarbone, traveled further up your throat and tilted your head back. Stretching, straining, the tendons in your neck began to ache, but you leaned as far as he made you, until you were eye-to-eye.

“Why don’t we go upstairs?”

You wake up in cold sweat, tell tale heart hammering against the bars of your ribcage, traitorous to the calm you’d sworn yourself to keep. The gleam of the dining room table, the stiffness of your chair, the incessant pain in your tendons- it all comes bleeding back in. Time is slippery, you could’ve been dozing for an hour or a week and you wouldn’t know the difference. The tantalizing scent of steak grounds you, the sizzling of the pan in the kitchen, Rook humming a tune you’ve grown familiar with. That memory was weeks ago- or days, perhaps.

It’s a sliver of comfort, your lighthouse on the wild waters of your relationship, these small domestic moments. As time goes on, the fragrance grows stronger, creating a mouthwatering aroma that reminds you of the emptiness in your stomach. You suck in a deep breath, eager to somehow satiate your hunger; the scent of steak hits your palate, followed by the hypnotic perfume of rosemary mingling with red wine and butter. It's thick, intoxicating, the delirium is enough to make you forget your nausea. By the time Rook deposits a plate in front of you, the basement is as far from your mind as it could be.

His plates are simple milk porcelain with a gold lined rim, because that's how Rook likes things; simple, expensive, delicate. The meat in the middle appears like an open wound on the pristine plate; a ruddy gash in the porcelain, delicately seared and glistening with a bloody sauce. Beyond that, the food smells divine, every ounce as decadent as it looks. Instinctually, your forefinger attempts to uncurl and reach for the golden silverware on either side of the plate, only to stop short with an agonized whine.

"Oh ma chéri," a chiding sigh brushes across your cheek, you just can't help but flinch away. Rook has taken a seat beside you, despite the opposite side of the table being perfectly clear. He's close enough that your shoulders brush. "You simply must quit irritating those, or they'll never heal."

As if it wasn't him who severed your tendons. His thin fingers grab for your wrist, turning it over to inspect the gauze, now freshly dampened with your blood. A sick flush overcomes Rook's face at the sight, stark crimson on clean white- you can tell he's suppressing a smile. Your stomach turns.

"Oh, la vache…" the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles brings forth the urge to rip your hand away, you force yourself to deny it. "How dreadful. I suppose I'll have to patch you up after dinner, ce n’est pas la mer à boire."

You asked him what that meant once; ‘it’s not the sea to drink’, or something like it. A bland encouragement to stay collected, despite the torture he’s made you endure, but it works. Maybe the phrase is effective, or maybe you have no choice but to make it so; Rook stands at the lip of a cavern, the lightest brush either way and he’ll send you both careening into the dark. It’s become your career to stand so perfectly still, even as he waltzes on the knife’s edge, desperate to make you follow in his depraved steps like his lovers before.

The screech of wooden chair legs against the floor makes you flinch away, though you’re well aware Rook has become your master and you, his dog. You will only ever walk as far as he allows- recently, he’s decided to keep you kenneled. Your achilles tendon aches as he lifts you from the dining chair like a bride, a belonging, then takes your place in the seat- you find your place on his lap.

For a few heartbeats, you’re lost in the romance of Rook taking the serrated knife to your portion of steak; his arms warm around your shoulders, deft hands cutting away a bite-sized chunk for you to eat. You feel honored that he cares enough to feed you.

“Say, ‘ah’.” There’s a sort of genuine delight in his voice that still feels belittling when he raises the fork to your lips, but your stomach comes before your dignity, and you let Rook put the bite of steak in your mouth.

The flavor melts on your tongue, savory, acidic, rich, everything you’d hoped for- but you’re a few chews deep when you realize something amiss. This does not taste like steak. In every aspect it appears as such; the darkened, almost leathery brown of the exterior, the scent, but its flavor more closely resembles pork. You chew a few more times and swallow, and make the terrible mistake of turning to look at Rook.

“What is-” The words shrivel up and die on your tongue, silenced completely by the bloodcurdling expression on Rook’s face.

There’s a wild, thrilled look in his arsenic-green eyes, something bright and excited that makes your heart still. His smooth, pale skin has been set aflame and the ivory points of his teeth threaten to pierce his bottom lip.

Your mind conjures images of the cream cotton bags, once white but stained with overuse and blotted in red, the fabric stretching at irregular angles to contain whatever Rook had stuffed inside. Buck, or doe, or veal- whatever he would promise with glimmering eyes. You imagine silky blond hair and soft brown eyes, perfect skin and straight teeth. You imagine the basement, the voices you might’ve heard, Rook’s past lovers.

There’s a violent turn in your stomach, so strong your eyes water and you instinctively lift your hands to clasp over your mouth, only drawing more blood from your open wounds- but Rook doesn’t scold you this time. No, he only watches in cruel silence as you dry heave in his lap, running his hands up and down your sides as you scream hard enough to make your parched throat sting.

It’s an arduous ten minutes and sobbing and retching before you reach some sort of calm, reduced to miserable hiccups, lamely attempting to dry your eyes. Somehow, you feel immature for being sickened at the prospect of eating human meat.

“How is it?” The question nearly makes you devolve into sobs all over again, because it’s good- perhaps the most heavenly thing you’ve ever eaten.

“It’s…” You can’t make yourself say it. That you crave more, like an addict.

“That good? Mon amour, I’m flattered beyond words.” Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you back against Rook’s chest, you fight your every instinct and do not pull away, even when something twitches against your ass. “Here.”

Cold dread sinks into your stomach when he cuts you another piece, holding a slice of human to your lips. You tremble in place for a few breaths, refusing to open your mouth, but your body betrays you, as always, growling like a rabid dog for another taste. He taps the fork against your lips once more, and you concede. Rook cuts you bite after bite, you swallow each and every one, the meat is further salted by your unending tears.

By the time you work your way through the entire plate, Rook’s erection presses hot and heavy against your backside, somehow he’s restrained enough not to hump you like an animal; you realize now what you’ve been starving for. Your stomach aches, heavy and bubbling with turmoil; guilt, disgust, betrayal, but it’s soon overshadowed by a chilling numbness.

When Rook brushes a thumb across your split bottom lip, you scarcely stir, your tongue flicking out to wet your dried skin. The crisp rim of a wine glass clanks lightly against your incisors and your thirst flickers to life. Your gaze slides down to the contents of the bowl, a dark burgundy wine so pitch it nearly reaches a shade of black. Fingertips smooth over your jawline, gently tipping your head back to follow the pitch of the wine glass, letting the maroon liquid slide over your lips. It’s thick, coolly oozing down your throat and leaving the taste of pennies heady on your tongue, though you lack the clarity to care. He forces more and more down your throat, and you willingly guzzle away, content to slake your thirst with blood, no matter whose, as long as the pain of dehydration disappears. Scarlet blood pools at the corners of your mouth carves a path across your skin, first pooling on your chin before drawing a trail over your throat.

When the glass finally empties, you lick your lips and Rook can no longer repress a moan, the nails of his spare hand digging into the softness of your waist so tightly it hurts, sure to leave crescent shaped cuts behind. A trail of open mouthed kisses dances from your shoulder to your cerise stained throat, where Rook takes the liberty of licking what remains of his lost lover from your skin, all the while groaning incoherently- you barely pick up the word ‘obéissant’ amongst his mutterings. A man possessed with his own lust, Rook hastily shoves aside his fine dishware in place of laying you down against the cold wooden dining table- splayed out across the tabletop, haloed by silverware and white plates, now you are the meal.

Your body becomes a canvas, the victim of an artist with red stained hands as he borrows paint from the font in your radial artery, burrowing his smoothed nails into the thin webbing of gauze until your blood squishes around his knuckles and seeps beneath his fingernails. His hips fit perfectly between your legs, the defined points of his bone sliding like blades against the softness of your thighs, sharp and unyielding as you gingerly tuck your legs around him- better to give the wolf a taste now than deny his growling stomach. By God does he savor that ‘taste’. Moans pour from Rook’s lips like life from your veins, oozing around your skin warm, wet and vulnerable, punctuated by his grotesque slurping at your throat. Rook sucks hickies into your neck with such harsh desperation you think he might be trying to draw the blood from your arteries with his lips alone, overlaying plum and claret blotches with the yellowing remains of your last endeavors.

The pale lace and silk Rook has taken the effort to swaddle you in is marred with ruby droplets, round and glittering rhinestones for a moment, before they melded with the smooth fibers of your robe. It would be no effort on Rook’s part to dress you in vibrant shades, something that would hide the rusty stains, but that wouldn’t be half as cathartic. Perhaps more sensual, perhaps more tantalizing; but not nearly as visceral and intimate as peeling open a flower bud, digging his fingers beyond the milky satin petals and revealing the blushing center.

“Oh, mon chéri,” He’s breathless as he gazes down at you, his lips rosy and glistening with a slick mix of blood and spit. “You are beguiling in every element, a blessing upon my unworthy eyes.”

You clench your jaw and avert your gaze.

“I beg of you, s'il te plait mon amour, give me the honor of showing you my passion?” It’s not really a question, Rook’s very presence is so oppressive you’re suffocating in the open air. You feel small beneath him, size notwithstanding.

Truthfully, he does not need your permission either way- it’s a petty ploy to force a word up your throat -his hands would’ve snaked their way beneath your bloomers nonetheless. You’re bare beneath your sleep shorts, as Rook preferred, and with the brush of a warm palm against your soft cock, you’re just as excited as he’d please too.

Experienced fingers gently enclose the head of your cock, rolling your foreskin back to the base, all while Rook keeps his eyes trained on yours, the smallest expression of delight on his face. Though coarse, Rook’s hand felt heavenly wrapped around your dick, the grip delicate and pace agonizing as he began to work you up. It didn’t take long for you grow hard- Rook knew exactly how to make you twitch and squirm -pulling his hand along your shaft before pausing just below the tip, only for his thumb to press harshly against the your slit, drawing a long squeal from your throat.

At long last, Rook drags your shorts from your hips and over your legs, leaving streaks of blood like rivers on your thighs. The chilled air finally meets your warm cock, bringing forth a shudder of discomfort. Rook will choose to interpret this as a show of anticipation. Again, Rook closes his fist around the base of dick, now choosing to stroke you with more fervor, the squelch of precum of blood growing louder and louder with every pump. It’s enough to make your face hot, swapping frantically between rapid panting and holding your breath, if only to deny yourself the shameful satisfaction of letting loose a moan.

“Tell me how this feels, mon amour.” Rook’s eyebrows pinch in a way that almost seems genuine, even as he stills his movements and squeezes the base of your cock tightly; watching a tremor pass through your body, your muscles tightening, eyes fluttering open and shut in quick succession, determined not to grant him a single noise. “Is it good?”

Precum drools from the tip of your cock in a slow, sticky stream, mingling with the tacky blood coating Rook’s hand and coating your length in a thick, marbled mixture of the fluids. It’s sickening, disgusting, and makes your stomach turn slow and dreadful- yet, somehow, the sight makes another bead of precum gather at your tip.

“Or do you need something more, hm?” Rook’s free hand smooths over your inner thigh, knuckles brushing lightly over your balls, his thumb smoothing flat over your taint, before his middle finger finally teases against your rim. “Do you need me in here, ma bichette? Dis juste oui.”

The tip of his finger presses in lightly and you inhale sharply, bringing a small chuckle from Rook’s chest. Your struggles amuse him. Rather than wait for any kind of response, Rook instead encircles your cock with only his forefinger and thumb, pinching it tight enough to make you writhe as he scoops the slurry of blood and precum from your shaft.

For a second, Rook spreads his hand open and watches the sticky webs spread from finger to finger, before he bends down and lets a small exhale hit your dick, suppressing a laugh when your hips jerk in response.

“Ah, si mignon.” The tone is almost dreamy, it would be cute in any other situation, with any other lover. As though to reward your endearing behavior, Rook leans forward and places a kiss on the tip of your cock, forcing a cry of sensitivity from your throat. “Tellement mignon, mon chéri.”

A tiny strand of precum stays stuck on Rook’s bottom lip as he pulls away, only broken when his tongue darts out to lick up what remains- your cock throbs at the sight, so fiercely that you can’t help yourself any longer, a sound somewhere between a wail and a moan makes its way from you before you can even think to stop it. When you calm enough to refocus your attention on Rook, a smile spreads across his face like the plague.

One of his broad hands digs into the fat of your thigh and drags you to the end of the dining table with ease, perfectly aligning your hips with the edge. You’re still reeling from the movement when Rook abruptly pushes two fingers beyond your rim and immediately curls them up into your prostate with cruel force; at the same time, he laves his tongue over the slit of your cock, eagerly swallowing every drop of pre you leak. Your whole body spasms in response to the pleasure, your back arching and legs flailing wildly, a litany of whorish moans falling from your lips- control has not just slipped away from you, the leash has been ripped free of your clenched fists and instead given to Rook. Thick fingers pummel mercilessly against the sensitive bundle of nerves in your ass, punching air from your lungs with every thrust and simultaneously shoving your nearer and nearer to the brink of orgasm- but before you ever reach it, Rook pulls away. His mouth leaves your cock, your hole is left empty once more, and you are left desperate. In a moment of weakness, you almost sit up to beg Rook for more, whine for him to let you cum, before your shame roars back to life.

Though you’re laid bare for all to see, Rook is finally rabidly throwing off his clothes, as though any moment without your touch was one of pure agony. In mere seconds, he’s completely nude and readjusting your body as he pleases, tucking a hand under either thigh before guiding them to wrap around his hips. Your eyes are immediately drawn between his legs, where his cock rests against your own, heavy and twitching, the flushed tip glistening with wetness. Lazily- unfairly -Rook squishes the soft head of his dick against your slickened rim, just shy of fulfilling your desires.

“Oh my, regardez ça…” His hips push forward ever so slightly and you let out a puppyish whine, distraught when he retreats again just to watch your hole clench in an effort to pull him back. “You’re just so terribly cute, my dear, so cute.”

The torture feels endless, though he only teases you for a few seconds longer, tapping his cock against your ass one more time before he asks the question that makes your heart go still. “Tell me what you want, mon cheri.”

Your throat closes. You can’t admit that you want- no, need -Rook to fuck you, you need his warmth, the pleasure, the comfort; the same way you need food and water. Still, you can’t say it, not anymore, because Rook will come unraveling like a linen with the lightest tug on his heartstrings. A couple months ago you would’ve happily cried and screamed for Rook to finally shove his dick into you. Now you feared he’d finally break.

You spread your legs wider, arch your back further, whimpering like a stupid animal as you give the weak attempt to rock your hips back into Rook’s cock with teary eyes.

“Ah-ah.” He takes a pace back, moving just barely out of your reach. “Do you want me?”

There’s a quiet thump as you let your head fall back against the tabletop, squeezing your knees around his waist in need.

“Just nod for me, d'accord? That’s all I need, ma bichette.” His hand smooths over your waist, trying to soothe you, but it does nothing to stop the rapid thrumming of your heart.

You heave, too humiliated to meet his eyes, instead throwing your arms over your face and giving the subtlest dip of your head. There’s hardly a second after your approval before Rook’s hands grip your hips so firmly your bones creak under his strength, dragging you back to meet his thrust and sheathe his cock inside you in a single smooth movement. You receive no mercy, no time to adjust, as Rook fucks into you like a feral animal, his movements unrestrained and frenzied, unyielding as you squeal and scream beneath him, legs locked around his hips for a single scrap of stability.

You think- if you can think -that he’s begun muttering something between open-mouthed pants, gasps of how much he loves you, how beautiful you look, how he’d like a taste of you. You let your thoughts scramble with every thrust of his hips, you let go of the fear for a few minutes. It not hard when Rook actively makes an effort to take your breath away, clumsily smashing your lips together in something that could barely be called a kiss; it’s all teeth and tongue, Rook sloppily stuffing his tongue into your mouth with an animalistic grunt- he feels more monster than man to you. Everything about him is suffocating, you can’t breathe around his love, head spinning, vision darkening- at the same time, Rook tilts his hips just right and jams the head of his cock against your prostate, and you’re ready to die for this orgasm. Pain is irrelevant, your weakened hands tangling in Rook’s hair and pulling despite the violent ache in your tendons. The euphoria is incomparable, so sudden and violent you spray cum over both of your chests, your whole body trembling and tightening within Rook’s grasp, milking his cock for all you could with a series of strangled moans Rook is happy to swallow.

Lucidity quickly sets in and you begin to panic, beating your bloodied fists against Rook’s shoulders in a useless attempt to push him away; if Rook wanted you dead, you would die. Your lungs have been set alight with Rook’s passion, parched for the cool touch of oxygen you’re worried may never come. Only once you’re entirely convinced you’re about to die does Rook finally break away and let you breathe, both gasping like you’ve drowned, and still Rook pumps his hips back and forth, chasing his release.

“Tell me- putain -tell me, mon amour,” his words are gasped out against your throat, muffled by your skin. “Tell me you love me, ah, dis moi que tu m'aimes”

It’s not a request, it’s a demand, his teeth lock around the thin skin of your esophagus, canines pressing sharply against you. Any answer could end in a crushed windpipe, and you’ve never been good at gambling; but you are his dog, and he is your master. No matter how many times the hand beats, you will return.

“I love you, Rook.” Quick as a flash, Rook readjusts and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, iron filling his mouth in a flood he’s happy to swallow. Rook manages only one more thrust before stilling inside you, shuddering from head to toe with a guttural groan as he fills you with his cum. You’re utterly revolted.

Your wounds have left you in agony. You’re still afraid Rook might rip a chunk from you. You’re sick to your stomach. You might cum all over again. A few stray tears roll over your cheeks, but you suppose this can’t be so bad; your stomach is full and Rook is warm. So warm. You are Rook’s dog, and he is your master. You loosely wrap your arms around his neck. A dog always loves his master.

That's all for our Halloween special folks! I hope you enjoyed, and as always, thank you for viewing. I. Am sorry for writing this ngl. During the uh. hard-on people steak scene, I just stared at my computer screen wondering what the fuck I was doing with my life. I hope you find it spooky though, i definitely do... (also I think I'm very funny for the Vil/Neige cameo hehe)

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riptide0602 · 4 months

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Ninjago hcs

Kai's(Smith-Jiang family's) eye color hcs:either amber,brown or sea-green eyes just like Maya's,while Nya has brown(I think this one is canon) and Ray has amber/brown eyes

After unmerging with the sea Nya's eyes started changing colors to match the nearest body of water:sea-green when near the ocean,grayish when near something like a bottle of water or sink water and etc.They will also turn glowing blue when she uses her powers on a large scale (they once turned blood-red bc she was treating an injury and blood has water in it)

Post-Crystallized:sometimes parts of her body would turn into liquid during the adjusting to being a human again(during which her eyes would be white like the foam)

After unmerging with the sea her powers became even more stronger and easier to control.After all,Nya was one with them for an entire year

The reason Nya couldn't get out the water in Jay's lungs during Seabound was because all of it kept responding,including blood and the water in Jay's body and she couldn't risk drawing out too much water and/or blood to help Jay

Pixal has Jay saved in her contacts as "extra charger"

The pink clothes Nya wore during Prime Empire shorts were given to her by Cole(they used to be Lilly's)

Nya makes the best coffee,not even Zane can match her skill there and surprisingly enough, Cole is a close second when it comes to drinks

The public didn't know Nya used to be Samurai X until a new one showed up and ninja had to answer some questions during interviews

Kai is a history nerd

All the ninja know basic first-aid,though Nya and Zane are the best medics.Kai is/was good with taking care of dragons

For a while after he learned that he was a nindroid,Zane didn't know how his body functioned beyond the basics.It's after HoT that he started learning more about himself instead of relying on Pixal,Jay or Nya all the time

All the ninja wear a bracelet that is made of interwined threads of their colors (gray for Nya,purple for Pix,gold for Wu and the rest are obvious)

Nya loves animals(this one is based on Wu's teas ep and how she seemed to like Zippy in the Island)

All the ninja+Pix see Wu as a father figure(even if some of them already have fathers)

Same with Misako

Mrs.Benedict constantly scares Lloyd by appearing out of nowhere in the weirdest places

Mrs.Benedict loves Nya and Pixal the most out of the entire group

After Seabound-Crystallized Nya always smells like sea and the salty air of the beach

Wu and Misako are best friends(the love triangles/angles in ninjago are a pain,so I'm ignoring them),but when it comes to history they're rivals worse than Oni and Dragons,FSM and Overlord combined.It's always fun for the ninja to watch their debates(especially when Misako is right bc those are the times when Wu says that he was there when the events happened)

Garmadon and Maya were best friends,same with Ray and Wu

Wu is Kai's godfather,Garmadon and Misako are Nya's

Wu anonymously helped Smith-Jiang siblings when he heard that their parents were gone,but he didn't take them in for two reasons: he wasn't doing well after Garm's banishment and he didn't have a legal identity to prove that he could take the siblings(not that it would have stopped him,but the first point stands)

Jay and Nya weren't in a relationship until s6, they weren't a couple during or before s3,but did go on dates or hangouts

Nya has a green burn-scar thing from Tiger Widow venom

Nya misses being a part of the sea and hates herself for it

Zane sometimes missed the cold of the Never-realm and how close he was to his element as Ice Emperor

Nya still has marks all over her body from merging with the sea and sometimes they glow

Elemental masters are naturally more durable and stronger than humans(the reason Cole managed to survive the Oni clouds) and once they master their powers,they age slower too (they look younger than they actually are)

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sapphia · 1 year

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so recently, scar has gotten good at minecraft. like, really good. if you watch his old stuff, it doesn't take much to see that scar's strengths generally used to lie outside of the actual, run-around-without-dying-especially-on-a-pvp-server level of play. and that's fine, it wasn't his jig, and the people he's playing with really are very good and very experienced at this sort of play. so it never needed to be something that scar was good at because his fanbase mostly watched him for other reasons, so that just wasn't something he needed to be able to do.

but for a while now, especially noticeable over the life series, he's been rapidly improving at the sorts of particular skills that the life smp server values (and also certain skillsets involved in MCC, too). The water bucket clutches spring to mind, as well as the hot-guy stuff that make him such a lethal force with a bow. (It's honestly a shame that life smp doesn't have elytra -- he regularly one-shots people from the air on hermitcraft, and it's a fantastic bit.)

And it's just so good to see because like... he didn't have to go and do that! he went and practiced those skills, and got good at them, and then came and showed them off. and it was awesome, but also he made it so creative and entertaining, and he really didn't have to do any of it at all if he hadn't wanted to. people don't play on life smp because they're good at the technical elements of the game. more than anyone else, scar's particular shenanigans and the energy he brings to the server are what make him a great fit for the series. there are plenty of players on life smp who aren't great PVPers but who get by on politicking, or scheming, or storytelling, or just generally being a good time to be around, and each of them makes the smp tick and are valuable in their own way.

not to mention that life smp is made up of such a wonderful group of human beings that they'll do whatever it takes for you to fit in. to make your thing, and your particular energy and abilities, a part of of the series. to make it that you aren't hampered by your abilities and handicaps, whatever they may be. when skizz dies early on to some early misfortune in limited life, people are pretty clearly aware that he's one of the weaker players and it might impede his ability to have a full series. but don't worry, because half the server are tripping over themselves to give him their time and lives and totems and to swear undying oaths of fealty to protect him at all costs. grian, martyn, tango, literally every one of the ties - not to mention everyone who stood around and watched as skizz killed tango - all are working together and giving up things, valuable things, to make sure this one player gets to keep time on the server, and therefore time on the series, just because that's who they are. that's what the server is. friends, playing together.

i'm sure that's also why grain stuck with scar in the first series: to make it fair. they want everyone to have a good time. To be able to do their own thing, whatever that thing is you bring to the server, be it your insane PVP skills or trying to scam players by selling them magic crystals.

which is a long way of saying: scar was under no obligation whatsoever to get good at these player-skill-based elements of minecraft. but it's wonderful that he did! he really said, "look, i know you all think i'm a walking disaster, but i need you to know, it's not because i'm bad at the game. it's because i'm me." and then he went and got crazy good at archery (well, okay, crazy good at one very specific archery move, but also pretty damn good at shooting things overall! and at flying!) and he started parkouring around a bunch and now he's mastered waterbucket clutches (and what a fucking display he got to show off in double life, too) and just all around Got Good at the things that he wasn't previously that good at.

and the best thing was that he's still such an irreverent force of chaos that it hasn't even mattered. he's still just as lethal to himself through his own terrible decisions and random lack of awareness or foresight. or even just his own desire to fun, no matter what. the man really went into a hardcore server and said alright, i'm gonna build my base up high enough to definitely kill me, and also make it out of trap doors, and oh grians here, oops i'm sure that won't go wrong. and then he went and died to his elytra failing. that's just the most scar thing I've ever seen. you can't even fault him because grain also died on that server. only joel properly made 100 hours and there's no surprises there, joel is insanely good. so its no mark against scar that he died. but how he plays it, it's just so him.

and you wouldn't have it any other way because this is why we watch him. he's entertaining because he's totally unpredictable and also predictable and good and bad and competent and incompetent all at the same time. he will waterbucket-clutch INTO an impossible situation to save a bunch of useless pandas that were almost definitely going to die and he'll get away with it. and then also he will die by setting off a trap he's trying to very obviously lure others into. yes also he fell into a pit of zombies, what of it? it's just scar and his wacky hijinks. will he die? lets find out!

scar really said the only thing holding me back is me, and then proved it.

#goodtimeswithscar #good times with scar #limited life smp #last life smp #life smp #long post #sorry for the length lol i just think he's such a bright point #and people don't realise sometimes how good a player he really is #he just hides under a total lack of applying those skills in the situations where they'd be meaningful #his meter is swinging between 'i'm a baby and i will die if you breathe on me' and 'i'm an untouchable god'#and you just cannot predict where it will land

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daizymax · 1 year

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these wicked delights | psh (m)

summary: in the dead of night, a sinful creature visits you, penetrating and encompassing your mind, body and soul…

pairing: seonghwa x fem reader

genre: incubus!au, smut

word count: 3.4k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: incubus!seonghwa; supernatural elements; vulgar language; degrading dialogue; not your modern day dirty talk because seonghwa is thousands of years old; the reader is legally an adult but seonghwa calls her a child because, again, he’s thousands of years older; very slight religious elements; graphic sexual content; situations of dub/non-con; dom/sub themes without discussion of boundaries / safety / safewording; dom!seonghwa; rough handling; sensory deprivation; vaginal fingering; oral (f receiving); squirting; unprotected penetrative sex (no condom use, no established birth control method in effect); mirror sex; brief mentions of blood; creampie; an unreal amount of cum; no proper aftercare

author’s note: reuploaded from my old blog and rewritten featuring seonghwa now. no changes to the content itself though. please take extra care to heed the warnings on this one, this is not like my other fics.

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

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This is how it begins: with a curious tingling sensation at the beginning of your spine, right at the base of your neck. It gradually builds into a dull burn that travels southward, growing warmer and warmer as it goes, until eventually your whole body is awash with white-hot pinpricks.

Yet you are not even sure that you are fully conscious. Sleep’s shroud still clings to you as tangibly as the comfortable cotton sheets draped over your body. Your closed eyelids may render you blind to the surroundings of your bedroom, but they do nothing to block sound.

“Good evening, pet…” drawls a guttural voice, manifesting out of nowhere. It sounds decidedly otherworldly from the way it resonates in the air.

A throaty groan of acknowledgment is all you can manage in your fright.

I’m dreaming, you think, hoping it is true.

“Does this feel like a dream?”

Something inhumanly strong clutches your covered ankle. The sudden gesture startles you, but your body does not - cannot - flinch. Not even your lips break apart to let out the squeal trapped in your throat.

Wh-what is this?! you panic silently. What have you done to me?! Who are you?!

The visitor, whoever he is, seems to hear your unspoken thought.

“A more apt question would be what am I,” he answers cryptically before soon elaborating, “My name is Seonghwa. I am an ancient being well-learned in the ways of copulating with females of your species. As for your paralysis… it is only temporary. There is no need for you to be mobile tonight. I am the master, and you are the pet. You are not in charge here, not even of your own limbs and tongue.”

The claw around your ankle tugs swiftly at the sheets blanketing you, leaving you naked and bare. One long, sharp fingernail drags its way slowly from your foot to your calve to your inner thigh. Your leg may not be able to move, but neither is it numb to the sensations drawn on your nerves.

W-what are you d-doing? Even in your mind, your voice sounds woefully weak.

The jagged end of the bony finger pauses on the outskirts of your exposed entrance.

“Engaging in foreplay,” he - it? - answers matter-of-factly. “You are a lonely, miserable, pathetic little thing, starving for physical attention. That is why I have come.”

His words ring a sour note because of the harsh truth they carry. You have been wallowing in lonely misery for quite some time. Nearly a year has passed without so much as one lousy date or meaningless hookup.

“Hmm, do not despair, child,” your uninvited guest coos almost soothingly. Was his voice this melodic before? “It is that very nature of yours that attracted me to you. Your fragile little mind called to me so sweetly, I had to oblige. You should consider yourself quite fortunate I am here. You will never find another who can stimulate the delicate flesh between your legs better than I.”

Your cunt tingles in recognition from the foul words, and the creature senses your body’s involuntary reaction.

“Yes, I can feel your carnal desires. Shall I begin satisfying them?”

You gulp in apprehension. Would he really stop if you said (thought) the word ‘no?’ But before you can ruminate further, this creature named Seonghwa resumes his earlier movements and tickles the folds of your center.

“I can sense your hesitation, pet,” he says. “But beneath that, your body and your subconscious are screaming for me to continue. I can feel the vibrations of your lust pulsing from you. Would it relax you to know that I desire this, too? Your body is quite exquisite… for a human. I would be delighted to plumb its treasures, starting with the sweetness about to drip from your genitalia.”

With that said, his gnarled finger glides easily into your surprisingly wet cunt. Your gasp of shock and pleasure goes in through your nose as a deep breath. The action encourages the creature to curl the digit purposefully, as if to beckon another reaction out of you.

This is wrong… you fret with what must be the last vestiges of your sanity. I didn’t ask for this…

“No, but your kind is rarely granted the things for which they ask. And many things that are or seem wrong often feel too good to deny,” Seonghwa counters. “Millions of your species give in to their wicked and morally corrupt ways every hour, child. You frail little thing... why should you be any different?”

I’m not a child, your mind argues, latching onto the word with offense.

A deep chuckle reverberates against the walls. “You may be considered a mature adult amongst your species, but I have more than a thousandfold years on you. Now stop this pitiful, stubborn attempt at righteousness and submit to me.”

The boom of his voice is terrifying, but as he adds a second finger to your heated core, you find yourself powerless to resist. You absently wonder if he is casting some sort of spell over you to force your obedience, but the burning arousal in your loins does not feel like a trick. Could you really be so desperately depraved as to want this to happen?

In any case, the demon hums his approval at your compliance.

“There’s a good pet.” He withdraws his hand and uses it to lightly pat your pussy appreciatively, only to immediately plunge his fingers back into place inside you.

His long fingernails graze your g-spot, but rather than being painful or uncomfortable, the sensation is oddly gratifying. Every brush against your deepest recesses serves to torment you in the best way. If you could gyrate your hips, you would, but the best you can do is allow a soft moan to thrum inside your chest.

“Enjoying yourself already?” Seonghwa muses. “How weak you are indeed. And so soft…”

His other hand skims along the side of your body, following the curves from your hip to your breast. He grasps the fleshy mound and squeezes with surprising tenderness.

“Perhaps I should loosen my hold on you,” he wonders. He gives your nipple a pinch and clarifies, “Not here, just over your lips. I am an admittedly vain creature. I would very much enjoy hearing your uncensored cries - in full volume - when I bring you to the height of euphoria, over and over, until your voice is utterly shattered. What do you think, pet?”

As he speaks, he wiggles his fingers and digs the heel of his palm into your clit determinedly, while the hand on your chest moves to your other breast to caress it with the same attention as the first. The stimulation is positively electrifying.

I… you plead vaguely, unable to string coherent words together.

“You what, child?” he urges. “Speak freely now. Tell me what you so desire.”

Your freed tongue pokes out to wet your lips, then you say unabashedly, “I want to come so badly.”

“Do you?” he teases.

Seonghwa’s pointed thumb begins strumming against your clit with the faintest touch, and this time your gasp is much sharper when able to be inhaled through your mouth. Again, you lament the inability to rock yourself against him. The light stimulation is not enough.

“More…” you rasp. “I need more.”

“Is that any way to speak to your master?” he states coldly. His thumb lifts away from your bud, and his fingers draw back to the start of your opening and stall there. “Try that again. Ask me nicely this time, pet.” He spits the last word to reiterate your role in this unnatural union.

“Please… m-master,” you stutter over the uncomfortable word. “Will you p-please make me come, master?”

“That’s better,” he approves, then begins shoving his hand into you repeatedly.

A third finger joins the first two, and the thick stretch has you groaning incessantly. His thumb descends back onto your engorged clit to rub skilled circles into it. Every little twitch of his hand pulls the knot inside your belly tighter and tighter.

“This silky cavern of yours is taking my fingers so well, pet,” Seonghwa purrs, and you mentally preen under his praise in spite of yourself. For reasons you can’t explain, you’re honored to please him.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for your orgasm to wash over and pour out of you. The inability to hunch your back or even curl your toes makes it feel all the more powerful, and the high-pitched whine that squeaks out of you is unlike any sound you have ever produced.

Seonghwa continues undulating his wrist until the spasms of your pussy subside and the overstimulation on your clit nears the point of becoming painful.

“Such a messy little thing,” he tsks. The squelching sound when he removes his hand from your center alerts you to just how much wetness you released. “Open your eyes now and look at the mess you have made.”

You blink your heavy eyelids open and let your pupils adjust to the darkness. From the moonlight streaming through the curtains, you can definitely discern a distinct sheen running along the back of his hand, but what really captures your interest is the hand - claw - itself. It is even larger than you imagined. The skin is alabaster and smooth, but the pointed nails are black as moonless midnight.

You raise your eyes upward to look upon your visitor for the first time and are immediately captivated by his piercing crimson gaze. His eyes are quite literally glowing, illuminating the pale face sculpted from the same ivory marble as his hands. Thick, silver hair frames his temples, brushing just above high cheekbones.

Oh… he is so beautiful…

The thought is automatic and also instantly heard, as Seonghwa’s wide grin indicates. His teeth are blinding white in the dark and noticeably sharp.

“Of course I am beautiful, child. If I am to take the form of a wretched human, only the best will do. Although some appendages have remained unmodified, as you will find out,” he informs you. “But first, let me see if you taste as delectable as you look.”

With that, he parts his lips and snakes his sharp tongue out to catch his dripping fingers. He sucks them thoroughly before releasing each of them with soft pops.

The verdict is rendered as: “Delicious,” while he continues to grin down at you devilishly. Then he decides, “I think I would like a taste straight from the source now, if you don’t mind.”

Without actually giving you a choice, he drags your body down the mattress without touching you and kneels at the foot of your bed to bring his face inches from your sensitive pussy. Before you have time to marvel (or cower) from the magical action, he is on to the next thing, which is yanking your immobilized knees apart. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs possessively.

When he dips what can only be his tongue into the folds of your cunt, the muscle feels strangely scaly and clammy. It soon becomes clear he is quite skilled with it, however, and its reach far extends that of all your previous lovers.

He licks along your slit tantalizingly without heed for your still-throbbing clit. Then he delves his tongue in and out of your tight hole at a steady, rhythmic pace.

“Such sweet syrup you have stored inside you, child,” Seonghwa murmurs huskily. “What a shame to have it bottled up for so long. It is a good thing I am here to release it for you.”

You would say plenty of it has already been released, considering the stickiness seeping down into the crack of your ass, but you doubt your imposing ‘lover’ would appreciate such a quip. And truth be told, you are flattered that he seems to be enjoying giving you all the pleasure… so far.

He suddenly digs his tongue into your clit, directly under the hood. A jolt frizzles along the nerves of your frozen body and escapes past your lips in the form of a whimper.

While his mouth is attending to your nether regions, his hands creep back up along your abdomen until he finds your breasts again. He fondles both of them rather gently, occasionally rolling and tweaking your nipples to send a pulse of electricity below. Your moans become louder the longer he carries on lapping and stroking and pulling you to the brink of madness.

Your second orgasm crests every bit as high as the first, and although your limbs still cannot move, you can feel the aftershocks in your very bones.

“So easy to unravel,” Seonghwa comments as he resurfaces from the drenched juncture of your thighs. You watch as that red, serpentine tongue outlines his coated lips to capture every lingering drop of your essence.

Your eyelids droop in exhaustion, but the unholy creature has not yet finished taking its fill.

“You are not the only one in need of release, child,” he tells you. “It has been ages since I have visited upon one as enticing as you, and I do not intend to waste this opportunity.”

Again, he uses his otherworldly power to manipulate your body to his will, this time flipping you over onto your stomach. Your startled yelp is muffled against the sheets when he manually yanks your bottom half into the air, fully presenting your ass to him. His hands roam over your backside slowly.

“I am going to penetrate you now, pet,” Seonghwa says in a low tone; it sounds like a warning. “The fit will surely be excruciating for you. I suggest you take a deep breath and exhale it as I make my entrance.”

The unmistakable head of his cock presses against the petaled lips of your pussy. The circumference of it is wider than any you have known, and your mind balks when your muscles cannot flinch. It has not pushed inside of you yet, but you know without a doubt it will rip you apart.

Before you can voice your concerns, your lover is speaking to you again.

“Shh, stop your fussing,” he growls. “Your anatomy is made to birth infants larger than my genitals; you will be fine. I will guide you through this. Breathe, child.”

You obediently suck in a gulp of air.

“Good girl. Now let it out. Slowly, now,” he instructs next.

You allow the air to slowly leak from your lungs, and Seonghwa begins the plunge of his turgid cock into your core. As wet as you are, it is a struggle to fit even the tip of him inside. It spears through your walls agonizingly, tearing the sensitive skin just as you predicted, and you cannot even twist your fingers into the bedspread to help cope with the pain.

“You are doing well, my pet. Very well,” Seonghwa assures you, conscious of your pained state. “But we have a way to go yet. Keep breathing.”

Each breath comes in shakier and rushes out whinier as inch after inch locks into place inside you. Your walls stretch to their limits around his rock hard shaft, and still he continues to push until eventually he meets the resistance of your cervix.

“There we go,” he announces quietly, not sounding nearly as affected by the tight fit as you are.

He reaches up and fits one of his hands between the side of your face and where it rests against the bed to cup your cheek lightly for a moment, then glides his fingers slowly around to the back of your neck, across your shoulder blades, down your spine, finally coming to a halt at your hip. His delicate touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His other hand finds purchase on the other side of your waist, and his hold becomes bruising.

“Now, stay just like that and let me do all the work,” he commands, as though you have a choice.

Seonghwa withdraws his monstrous cock until only the mushroomed head remains, then thrusts back into you sharply, causing you to utilize the only parts of your body with mobility by parting your lips to groan loudly and squeezing your eyes shut tight. He gradually builds a steady pace, driving himself to knock against your g-spot relentlessly. The punishing blows make your eyes roll back in your skull.

“Is that what you think, child?” Seonghwa questions suddenly without interrupting his movements.

“W-what?” you ask shakily, unaware that you had even been thinking of anything specific for him to pick up on.

“That you are being punished?” he specifies. “You are not being punished, my pet. If it feels that way, you are mistaken. I am not ruining you. I am ushering you into paradise. Don’t. You. See?”

He punctuates his last few words with especially hard snaps, and you choke on a moan. Your pussy is clenching repeatedly around him now, signaling an impending third climax, even without stimulation to your clit.

Seonghwa jerks the top half of your body upright with a claw hooked around your throat, and the unseen force he wields is used to plant your palms firmly into the mattress to help keep yourself propped up. The mirror of your vanity dresser magically floats through the air to lean against the headboard of your bed. The reflection shows only yourself situated on your hands and knees, breasts jostling lewdly from the consistent pounding you are taking from behind. Your lover is nowhere to be seen in the glass.

“Look at yourself, child,” Seonghwa demands. “There is no use denying that you enjoy being ravaged like this.”

You are unable to tear your gaze away from the crazed eyes staring straight back at you. They are your own, but they are also a stranger’s. You moan wantonly in a broken voice.

“You can be louder than that,” the demon spurs. “Let all the heathens in Hell and all the seraphs in Heaven hear me taking over your body, mind, and soul.”

He speeds his thrusts even more to help earn the noises he so craves, and you do not disappoint. Even if the damned and the higher beings cannot hear you, your neighbors surely can through the walls of your apartment.

“Yes, my pet, yes. That’s it. Give in once more to the primal needs inside of you. Do it for your master.”

And you do. You shut your eyes and feel your pussy quake as it releases one last sinful gush.

Seonghwa pierces the flesh of your hips with his nails sharply enough to draw trickles of blood as he tumbles over the edge with you. His massive cock balloons even more at the moment of his impressive climax. The grunt he lets out sounds like a clap of thunder as he discharges a gratuitous amount of cum, drowning your insides overfull. Even with his cock still lodged within you, it does little to plug the boiling liquid; it drips out around his wide length, down your pussy, and onto the sheets below in thick, copious rivulets.

When it is over, he removes himself from your gaping opening with a cringe-worthy slurp and releases all hold over you. Your used body crumbles in a heap.

“I believe I have sufficiently satiated you now, sweet pet,” Seonghwa says rather calmly. Even after pounding you like a jackhammer and unloading what felt like liters of cum inside you, he is not the slightest bit breathless. “It is a shame I cannot visit you again for a while. The toll it would take on your fragile soul is not to be taken lightly, after all.”

You give no indication that you have heard him, but he does not seem to mind. With strong arms, he manually lifts your limp body and tucks you into your sheets with care. You are too tired and too out of it to realize they are totally dry.

Or that your sore hips are not actually bleeding.

Or that the mirror has returned to its rightful place over your dresser.

“Sleep now, child… Or perhaps you truly have been sleeping and dreaming this entire time…”

An amused cackle echoes against your eardrums, and you slip into unconsciousness with one last vision of his wicked grin to haunt you.

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