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theharddeck · 5 months

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do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone.

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit.

But.

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app.

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do.

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play.

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones.

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena.

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you.

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy.

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer.

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter.

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering.

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip.

Why did guys in real life never moan?

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure.

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low.

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only.

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you.

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste?

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy, acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin.

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.”

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his.

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?”

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper.

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you.

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper.

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him.

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?”

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds.

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you.

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly.

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl.

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy.

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?”

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against.

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded.

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.”

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect.

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there.

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow.

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to.

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear.

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set.

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door.

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time.

Some might even say, with a pep in your step.

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed.

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat.

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly.

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on.

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing).

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person.

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets.

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration.

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise.

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago.

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.”

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock.

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms.

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it).

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal.

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before??

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot.

A knock on your door startled you.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically.

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door.

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused.

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it.

He looked the same.

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you.

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills.

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them.

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral.

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away.

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse.

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room.

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced.

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t.

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room.

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again.

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it.

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep.

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react.

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation.

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again.

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you.

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly.

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him.

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob.

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway.

Of course he did.

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately.

Objectively, Bob was the best.

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you.

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you.

He pushed himself off the bed.

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either.

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay.

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it.

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question.

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break.

You kissed him.

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer.

He was so soft.

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him.

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention.

“Can I show you?” you asked.

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry.

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely.

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous.

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him.

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard.

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on.

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze.

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently.

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you.

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually.

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked.

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob.

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered.

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them.

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett.

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard.

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him.

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need.

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch.

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission.

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations.

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing.

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing.

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it.

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric.

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob.

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again.

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob.

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering.

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob.

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking.

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did.

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled.

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him.

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.”

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him.

It was better with him.

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing.

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good.

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there.

You felt like you were floating.

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him.

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he?

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life.

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right.

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips.

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you.

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself.

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner.

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin.

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin.

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned.

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.”

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had.

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless.

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered.

He wasn’t done, either.

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…”

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses.

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man.

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace.

You loved the feeling of his skin.

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you.

Fuck.

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders.

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric.

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself.

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him.

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick.

Holy. Shit.

He looked like a work of art.

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl.

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky.

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat.

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it.

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact.

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you.

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him.

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them.

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking.

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster.

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much.

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly.

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot.

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you.

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more.

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn.

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect.

Fuck, he felt so good.

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon.

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked.

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything.

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop.

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying.

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core.

He knew, somehow.

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher.

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising.

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…”

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him.

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back.

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop.

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant.

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him.

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips.

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you.

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you.

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips.

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher.

And then.

And then he got close.

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you.

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it.

When you came back, you were on your side.

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction.

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

#bob fucks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd #misskielwrites #International Bob Floyd Fucks Month

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

Note

Hii, could you please do a Percy x daughter of Hecate headcannons pls?

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of hecate! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x daughter of hecate! reader hcs warning: language but like...one or two???? author's note: i tried v hard with this one. idk why it took me so long anon. tbh, i was scared bc i don't really know a lot about hecate so then i had to do some homework and even after that it still feels v cliche but whatever. i like parts of it and i hope YOU like parts of it too.

"wanna see a magic trick?"

was the first thing percy said to you, a wide cheeky smile on his lips as he desperately tried to hold his laugh in

you were a little stunned at his sudden appearance but then his terrible, terrible joke had you fighting off laughs of your own

"i think that's more my expertise, don't you?"

que the both of you cracking up

that's the beginning of the end fr

percy buys you a crystal every time he goes somewhere

every. single. time.

even if he's going somewhere crystals should not be, he will go thirty minutes out of his way to get you a crystal

then, when he proposes, on his knee and holding out the little box, propped open, he's like:

"out of all the crystals i've given you, i think this one's my favorite."

BRO WTF WTF WTF WHY AM I CRYING IM IN CONTROL HERE??????

moving on

(it's your favorite too)

MOVING

you and hazel??? besties

she gives you crystals and gems and whatnot and you give her tarot card readings and sage for the hade's cabin

also, percy starts wearing those crystal bead bracelets, a purple one to remind him of his pretty witch wherever he goes

you wear a shell bracelet for a similar reason

if either of these broke, let's just hope nobody is within a three mile radius of them or those people will have a serious condition of death

also, sally jackson is you're #1 fan, even if she's a little confused.

once for christmas, she gifted you a stack of playing cards, which you took without question

she explained that percy mentioned something about you and cards and she figured it was a sweet gesture to get you some new ones

you didn't have the heart to break it to her, proudly taking the pack of playing cards

then you asked for a reading and you had to bullshit the whole thing, sweating the whole time

"Oh, ummm ace of spades. usually a sign of, uh, good ventures coming your way!"

"ooOO, very cool!"

percy had to hid in the bathroom he was laughing so hard

she also texts you all the time, blurry photos of rocks and gems, asking if these would be good for protection or love or whatever sally was after at the moment

the windowsill in the jackson apartment is filled with a variety of rocks, each with their own protection over the apartment

you came over one day, no percy, and just did it with sally, explaining every crystal and bundle of herbs as you went

sally always smiles when she sees it

percy does too.

also, percy def calls you a multitude of witch themed nicknames

bro fr comes up with a new one at least once a day

creative ass mfer

also, you shyly gave him a card reading, once and the amount of times you ran into the lover card left you a blushing mess

percy couldn't stop laughing every time you flushed a vibrant red, not evening needing you to tell him which card it was as he could tell from your face.

but, you always list off all the facts of the cards, musing on and on about percy's future love life or his future job

and he tunes you out, just staring bc he doesn't need to know

as long as he's with his magic girl, he doesn't really care what happens

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo

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writingforstraykids · 3 months

Note

Pls share your soft thoughts for Felix!!

Oh Lix, I do have some soft thoughts on him. Also thank you to @zehina and @atinyniki for sharing some ideas🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix thrives on skin contact, he'd stay right in your arms forever if he could. If you're comfortable with long hugs, subtle touches, holding his hand, or playing with his hair, then you become the source of his energy. He comes to you when he needs to recharge. He hugs you tight, plants himself on top of you, or holds your hand for hours. It doesn't really matter as long as he can feel your presence, your body warm against his.

If none of you is on a diet, he'll shower you with tasty goods. He can't stop spoiling you by baking all sorts of things you love so much. He has accepted his fate, getting called "Brownie boy" by you whenever he ends up in the kitchen baking. Felix knows how much you love those brownies and cookies, so of course, he always keeps some around. What's even better is if you join him, helping him mix the batter and making a mess with him between giggles and playful fights.

Felix is an enthusiastic gamer. The first time you ask him to play with him, he is over the moon for you. He shows you the basics and thinks you're even sweeter than before. If you don't feel like playing yourself, he enjoys keeping you in his lap, claiming you're his lucky charm. He might've cried a little when you offered to help him build his own equipment.

Lix's soft soul is something that needs to be protected, and he hasn't met many people who are as protective of him as you are. He lets you in, allows himself to be open about his feelings with you, and knows you'd never judge him for anything. You're his safe place when he feels like everything is crumbling down around him.

Felix's smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The way his freckles seem to crawl up into his eyes, illuminating them like stars painting the night sky, steals your breath every time. He's so genuine and easily smiling whenever he watches you doing the most basic things, it makes you swoon.

Lix can get a little emotional at times, never fully believing he deserves the love he receives from his friends, fans, and especially not you. Whenever those big, soft eyes fill with tears, he comes to you, gently tugging at your sleeve and curling up in your arms without any further explanation. He doesn't have to because you already know.

That is why whenever you're upset or feel undeserving of love, his heart breaks with yours. He pulls you into his arms, kisses your hair and fondles your head, gently rocking you in his arms. He whispers little secrets and sweet nothings into your ear, trying to show you how much you mean to him. He knows he isn't the problem here, but it wrecks him thinking you'd even consider him not loving you.

You're in love with that stunning face and Lix knows it. It hasn't happened only once you've made him sit on the counter to do his makeup. You love those little moments, accentuating your boyfriend's natural beauty like that. He loves letting you paint his lips, adorn his eyes with glittery eyeshadow or go wild with little stick-on gems below his eyes. You always wear such a happy smile on your face he would never deny you these small moments.

Lix loves shopping with you, since he obviously wants to look his best for you and spoil you at the same time. So buying new fits together is always fun. He gets to know your taste in clothing better and sometimes you surprise him with a color or piece of clothing he would've never thought of wearing before. The joy in your eyes when you find something for him makes him melt into a puddle right there.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

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cl3fairyyy · 4 months

Text

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters.

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you.

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months.

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other.

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment.

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment.

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you.

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery.

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved.

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you.

we’re finally making some REAL change : )

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek.

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it.

‘Dear Riddler,

Come find me.’

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before.

He definitely likes it.

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine.

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner.

You’re his prey.

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out.

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms.

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.”

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently.

“Looks like you caught me.”

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine.

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it.

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.”

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.”

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible.

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee.

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him.

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.”

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.”

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit.

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.”

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say.

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.”

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look.

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes.

“I need more.”

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm.

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex.

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask.

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.”

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him.

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.”

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands.

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.”

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...”

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you.

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?”

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat.

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.”

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own.

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor.

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.”

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you.

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.”

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax.

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.”

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly.

“I didn’t go too far, did I?”

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in.

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.”

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking.

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips.

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.”

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you

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chiikasevennn · 1 month

Text

𝐓𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬?

Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Reader

A/N: INSPIRED BY @jinwoosungs !!! I love their stories so much 🫶🏻. I cry tears of joy whenever I get a notification from her blog. Go off, your majesty. Also, this is not proofread! Done purely because I was hungry ^⁠_⁠^ pls comment hehe!

(⁠*⁠_⁠*⁠)

Maybe some old saying was true; to love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that's everything.

Jinwoo had thought of his relationship with yours was led by unimaginable magic—came out of left field and meant to end like a shooting star, breathtaking but brief.

When you confessed to him, he didn't know whether to be enraptured or embarrassed, because he felt both.

A girl? A girl—a beautiful one at that—told him that she liked him more than just a mere companion? That was difficult to believe.

(He half guessed it, but he was Sung Jinwoo, the weakest hunter of all mankind. What was he going to offer to someone like you who had a lot of opportunities ahead of her?)

He liked how you were a bashful bunny towards him, but a genuine person despite that. The raven head was always observant of your tendency to steal glances when he wasn't looking and how you instinctively withdrew your hand when it accidentally brushed against his.

He never realized you had a thing for him and only him until he found you in front of a flower shop's clear glass, observing and admiring a bouquet of tulips through the flawless window.

Why? Because Jinwoo told you that he liked tulips after you asked if he had any likes towards flowers.

He didn't even hold any specific preference for tulips. It wasn't that he disliked them, but it was just that he had no time to think of a favorite flower. Tulips only crossed his mind when you asked because of his sister and his mother; they both liked tulips.

He remembered how your face lit up like a Christmas tree adorned with beautiful decorations when he answered that. He could only smile that day as he felt like seeing a starlit path leading to you.

You were a lifeline in the tumultuous waters of life, and he followed you and clinged to you because you were everything.

Jinwoo might have not noticed right away, but the burdens felt a little lighter whenever you were around. You could just be standing there and he'd be delighted on the inside.

Because of all this, he ended up admiring you even before your confession. The changes began, of course—from how he started caring about what you might think of his appearance on a typical day to adopting certain mannerisms from you, like fixing his front hair every hour or two. He also began talking about you with Jinah so frequently that she eventually questioned your role in his life, as she became more familiar with the woman her oppa was fond of through words.

"For you!"

Jinwoo blinked. Two blinks, then three.

A bouquet of tulips in your hold, extending it towards him. It was akin to seeing a gem. The tulips were categorized into three shades—purple, ruby, and pink.

He was happy, absolutely thrilled and delighted, but a deep sense of him felt bad... Or ashamed? He didn't think you'd buy him something as extravagant as this.

"It's pretty obvious from what you're seeing," raising the tulips a little higher, your head cowered behind it. A meek voice followed.

"I love—LIKE"—you suddenly lifted the bouquet up to his face, basically almost pressing the thing in front of him—"being around you. I like it when you're happy or smiling. I like your face, even when you look stupid sometimes."

With the tone of your choice, Jinwoo knew you were about to explode.

"... You don't have to accept right away that I adore you to this extent. Knowing you, you don't need to pay me back or anything. I'm doing this because I like, like you. I wanted to give you flowers because it feels suffocating to bottle what I have for you."

He couldn't respond. Even if he did open his mouth, he doubted anything coherent would come out. Jinwoo's mind was blank, but upon seeing you about to say speak again, he realized immediately that he had to say something because he might fuck up and never get this chance again.

"Dinner."

"Huh?"

"Thank you." He smiled. "In return... Will you allow me to take you to dinner?

He anticipated your relationship with him to be brief, having a thought that you'd get tired of him eventually.

You didn't.

The relationship went on even after four years passed, the dates you and him planned together fought to longevity. It remained steadfast, every obstacle encountered was overcome through your mutual determination, despite the difficulties that emerged, as there was no way you would let go.

When you got upset, Jinwoo would hug you. When he got stressed, you'd play with his scalp and hug him to sleep. When sometimes you got hungry in the middle of the night, he'd join you on your late night cravings. Everything was vice versa.

Jinwoo planned for this relationship to never end, not when the commitment in mind to marry you was there, alive and present.

The raven head smiled slightly as he gazed upon a picture of you in a picture frame, depicting your smile amidst the severe, frosty weather of the previous year—a pleasant contrast.

He recollected distinctly how, on every occasion, you had showered him with a variety of flowers—roses, lilies, and an assortment of blooms filled his recollection, but Jinwoo remembered how tulips were number one of the things you've gifted him.

Thinking back on the casual act of giving him flowers, he remembered his endeavor to match your floral gifts, he supposed you've taken it as a competition and bought him a lot and more bigger than what he'd given.

Since you liked giving him flowers, he indulged you and let you to be the extreme gift giver.

But of course, he was still Jinwoo, and he wanted to treasure you with equal measure, and maybe more than that, so he still did things for you, despite how busy everything was.

So, when his position and financial standing rose, he showered you not only with the handmade and modest gifts but also with extravagant gestures such as furnitures, hair decorations, skincare products, and the list continued. It went on and on until you had to stop him because he might drain his bank account, but Jinwoo didn't really care.

Jinwoo took another clear look at your image and began to daydream into his memories again. He recalled, remembered, and reminisced until he found himself reliving moments that had already come to pass.

One look in his imagination of you had his vision blurry once he opened his eyes. He pressed a trembling hand against her lips on the photograph in a futile attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

The corners of his mouth trembled as his hearts felt like being clawed open. He tried to blink away the tears, but they flowed freely down his cheeks, leaving a trail of glistening tracks in their wake.

Jinwoo wiped his tears away, looking up in hopes to reduce of his fragile moment. As he slowly returned his gaze forward after regaining his composure, he was met with the box containing most the items he had gifted you, carefully safeguarded to maintain their pristine condition.

Everything reminded you of him.

And he loved and hated it.

did you expect that? lmao you should've took notice of the vibe of the first pic HAYAHAHAHAH happy reading! ᕦ⁠[⁠ ⁠◑⁠ ⁠□⁠ ⁠◑⁠ ⁠]⁠ᕤ

#sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #solo leveling fic

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peachhcs · 4 months

Text

the girl

hughes!sister x will smith au blurb (samy + will)

will comes back to boston with hickeys all over his chest and the boys love to chirp

0.7k words

warnings: implications of sex (but no sex described), hickeys, boys being boys. p.s i don't know the older guys on the bc team, so i just went with a guy named connor lmao anyways

i wrote this in like 20 minutes, but i wanted to post something since i haven't in a few weeks. school and life has been killing me 😀 i'm hoping to get more stuff out this coming week and if i don't pls hold me accountable so i do

au masterlist

will tugged his shirt off, ready to get himself into his gear for practice until he heard a gasp come from his left. the boy raised his eyebrow, following the sound until his eyes landed on ryan staring at him with wide-eyes. will quickly grew confused, raising his eyebrow, "what?"

ryan covered his mouth in an attempt to hide his laughter while some of the other guys started taking notice in what was going on. will saw gabe and aram's eyes widen as well and the blonde suddenly became very conscious of all the eyes on him.

"no fucking way. i never would've thought.." ryan started, still trying to hide his laughter.

"you're losing me," will pulled his eyebrows together. the older guys didn't say anything, but they started snickering with one another at the freshman.

"have you looked in the mirror recently?" gabe finally said. his words didn't make anymore sense until a second later when it finally pieced together in will's head. his eyes shot down to his bare chest, eyeing the pretty-looking purple and red bruises scattered across his chest and abs. the boy's cheeks flushed into the deepest shade of red.

he totally forgot about those.

"god, i had no idea hughesy could bite like that," ryan teased earning a slap against his head from will.

"shut up," the blonde muttered.

"wait, hughesy?" one of the older guys piped up. the freshman's eyes bounced to connor sitting in his own stall, lips flipping up into a smirk.

"you don't mean—"

"samy hughes? yeah. she's smitty's girl," ryan filled in the blanks. connor's eyes widened as well as some of the other older guys.

"you didn't tell us you're dating the samy hughes," connor's laugh roared through the locker room. unfortunately, will's blush hadn't gotten any better as the guys kept talking.

"they've been family friends for ages. been keeping the relationship on the down low," ryan kept explaining.

"oh my god. we knew you had a girl, but not the girl. damn, smitty. better keep her around. she's a gem," connor chuckled.

"considering his chest, i don't think he has any plans to get rid of her," gabe smirked as well. will just rolled his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassing blush as he shoved his warm-up on.

"how many times did you guys do it this past weekend?" drew joined into the chirping making the other guys snicker.

"i'm not talking about my sex life with you guys," will rolled his eyes again, but that only made the boys start hollering.

"but you have done it before! you heard it here first, folks!" aram exclaimed.

"i bet samy as an equal amount of hickeys on her own chest," ryan smirked.

"no wonder why smitty has the best hands," that joke exploded the entire locker room. the blonde wished he could disappear in that moment or go back in time to where he didn't forget he had hickeys on his chest before he took his shirt off.

"you guys are just jealous i have the girl," will shrugged. some of the boys whistled in response.

"damn right you do!" one of the older guys called. the chirping finally died down and while will was incredibly flushed after all of that, he's ego couldn't be bigger at the moment knowing all the guys knew he had the girl and they were jealous.

—

later that night, samy and will's facetime call connected. the brunette grinned widely as she propped her phone up against something. will quickly returned her smile, "hi beautiful."

"hi will. how was your day?" samy wondered.

"oh, wouldn't you like to know," gabe quickly stuck his head into the frame. will's face flushed as he tried pushing his friend away. samy raised her eyebrow, amusement on her features.

"will you stop barging into my facetime calls?" will said to gabe.

"everyone in the locker room saw the impressive hickeys you left on will's chest," gabe got out as will shoved him out of frame. the blonde's cheeks deepened into a nice red again while samy's own blush appeared across her face.

"i forgot they were there," will mumbled.

"shit, sorry will. how much shit did you get?" samy giggled a little.

"we gave it to him, don't worry. the older guys didn't know you two were dating. called you the girl," gabe cut in again.

"the girl?" samy raised her eyebrows.

"i guess you're kind of a big deal," will chuckled some.

"good to know. makes me wonder how you pulled me if i'm the girl," the brunette flirted some.

"it's a miracle, isn't it?"

#hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #will smith hockey #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan

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queenothegeeks · 2 months

Text

Awkward creator Drabble

Awkward creator drabbles part 2

If you have any ideas for characters you want to see, put it in the comments, or send in an ask. (Warning, this was written before Arlecchinos release, so pls be nice.)

After arriving in Teyvat, you had gotten swarmed with letters asking you (the creator) to come to everything under the sun. Plays, meetings, weddings, requests from all sorts of nobel and rich people, but you always declined. Not only because you knew you would freak out and be awkward, but because you didn’t feel like you would fit into that high-end and stuffy air, where everyone is trying to outdo one another, whether it be with their outfits, their hair, their gold and gems, and their property. But what happens when you get a letter you can’t refuse?

*Arlecchino edition*

When you got a letter that was sealed with the familiar mark of the Fatui, your heart skipped a beat. Up until now, everything had all been from people you didn’t know, and therefore, in your mind, were not powerful enough or important enough to care about going to meet with them. But Fatui, as you know, was not someone you should ignore. But, instead of a message requesting a fight from Childe or a meeting request from the Tsaritsa herself, it was a mere invitation to a tea party the Knave was holding.

Deciding to respond, you picked up your quill (you still didnt know how to use it properly), you wrote a letter back to the knave, hoping it sounded professional enough, accepting her invite, and detailing how excited you were, while also asking if there would be any others attending that you should be aware of, and if there was a dress code (god forbid you show up in sweatpants to a formal event).

A few days later, you got a letter back. It stated that you should “wear whatever felt comfortable” (whatever that means) and that it would be just the two of you, along with a few guards, though they were mostly going to be there for show. Obviously, you took “dress comfortably” as a “you must not have a hair out of place” and panicked slightly, worrying about what to wear. After tearing your closet apart, a mental breakdown or two, and a one way therapy session with a stuffed animal a random kid had given you, you set out.

(Imagine whatever outfit you want, bc i want to remain gn and be comfortable for everyone)

When you arrived, your jaw hit the floor. “A simple gathering” my foot! You suddenly felt very self conscious, picking at your outfit and nails, feeling out of place. You were led in by a masked guard, who brought you to a room with 2 massive couches, and more food than you could reasonably eat on a table in between them.

“The knave will be here shortly. She thanks you in advance for your patience, she is merely checking the perimeter of the building. Enjoy your tea party”

They said, quickly leaving the room, presumably to return to their place guarding the building.

“Thanks, you too!”

Realizing what you said, you were suddenly very glad they left as fast as they did. After waiting for a little while, Arlecchino walked in, not a hair out of place, walking with purpose.

“Thank you for waiting for your grace. I had some…issues that needed to be taken care of.”

“It's not a problem at all!”

You quickly interjected.

“Pardon my question, but was there a specific reason you wished to meet with me?”

“Do I need a reason to speak with the creator, and thank them for all they have done for this world? Or a reason to hopefully make an alliance?” She said,

“Nononono- not at all. It was just because I know back where I’m from, you would use tea time as a way to get important information across. With the prophecy approaching and everything, I was wondering if that's why you called upon me.”

“You would be correct. I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised you agreed to meet with me, considering you haven’t met with anyone else, no matter how important.”

You tensed a bit, not liking her tone. It wasn’t threatening, but it seemed like she knew more about you than the fact you hadn’t met with other people. Wait a minute…how did she know that?

“How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“You said I haven't met anyone else. You aren’t wrong, I haven’t. But the public doesn’t know that. In fact, one glance at any newspaper, and it's boasting about how “the creator themself was there”.

You started to ramble, your brain not worrying about being high end or fancy. The only thing on your mind was piecing together the information, just like how you would whenever a new genshin trailer or quest would come out.

“The only way you would have the truth would be if you were hella good at catching someone in a lie or just calling bs, which I know you are, or that you assigned people to watch me, which, using the information I have about you based on stuff from my world, wouldn’t be that far off. The House of the Hearth is very versatile, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say you could implant your children, and- you're smiling.”

“I didn’t truly know if you hadn’t met with anyone else. I was mostly seeing if you would reveal any information about these nobel’s if you had, if you were any good at lying that you had or hadn't gone, or, seeing if you would reveal things you knew about me, thereby showing the extent of your knowledge about this world and its people. Now, back to the topic from before, now that I know you are aware of who I am, tell me, what's going to happen to Fontaine, and how do I save it?”

Oh sh*t.

#genshin impact #arlecchino genshin #sagau #sagau brainrot #the brainrot is real #self aware genshin

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xpeachesncream · 9 months

Text

you to love | lowkey drabble

you to love // drabble four

↘︎ ft. the lowkey!couple

summary: jungkook misses you while you're away and feels the need to show you when you return.

words: 2.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, phone sex ouwee 🤪 - mutual masturbation, kissing, slight marking, unprotected sex, praising, quickly edited so pls excuse any mistakes!!

a/n: i whipped this up a year or so ago, but never got around to sharing it! enjoy 💞

Jungkook lays on his bed, propping up a leg on the bed while his hand rests behind his head. He smiles to himself as he scrolls through your text thread mindlessly, remembering the events that transpired the other night.

⇥ F L A S H B A C K

The room is dark, space feels empty, bed feels cold. Jungkook sighs as he closes his eyes, phone resting against his wall while he watches you rustle through the sheets to get yourself settled in bed.

"Hm, that's better." You let out a content breath, letting the sheets wrap you tightly as you adjust to the hotel bed.

"You okay, peanut?" He turns to fully face you, head now propped up on the palm of his hand.

"Just cold. The bed is so.. big and so.. cold." You run your hand around the empty space. "I wish you were here."

"I know, I do too. But you'll be back before the weekend ends. You've had a lot of fun with your mom and aunt so far, right?"

"I am having fun." You chuckled, agreeing with him. "It's been a lot of fun going around town and staying by the beach. Who knew a gem like this was only two hours away?"

"Wanna take me on a date there?" You giggle and nod.

"Sure."

"Cool, it's a date then."

"I really do miss you, though. I can't wait to see you."

"It hasn't been long, princess."

"Why can't you just say you miss me, too?" You pout.

"You know I miss you." He says softly, a small smile creeping up on the corner of his lips. "I miss you all the time, it's kinda embarrassing to admit."

"No it's not. Stop it." You stare at him for awhile, admiring his beautiful skin, his jawline, his lips, his eyes— the way he's shirtless, the way the sheets drape his waist loosely.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I dunno. You're nice to look at?" You laugh a bit. "Just feel lucky to have you." You smile at him softly, making him smile that cute little bunny smile of his.

"I feel the same, pretty."

"I wish you could be here to hold me."

"I'd like that." He smirks a bit, eyes wide and full of curiosity. He watches as you bite your bottom lip, grabbing the phone to give him a new angle to look at. Either way, he always thought you were the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on. That had never changed, would never change for him. The moonlight bounces off your skin so flawlessly that yeah, he really fucking wishes he was next to you doing what you wanted him to— whether that was cuddling you, or doing other things. He wanted to give everything to you, the world to you.

"You know what else I'd like?" He's come to learn you had another side to you, one that he's steadily trying to keep up with. Although he was still learning, he loved that he could learn everything from you without feeling scared or shy about it. You were never one to judge him, never one to rush him into things. You always eased him into new territories in your relationship. When he says he truly feels lucky to have you, he means that with every fiber of his being.

He had you to love, and that itself, was the best thing he could ever ask for.

"Hm?" He hums, watchful eyes following your hands. He watches as you sit up a bit, his white tee loosely hanging over your body but he could still make out your shape, can make out the fact that you aren't wearing a bra— which of course you wouldn't be, you're going to sleep, you never wear a goddamn bra to sleep. He can see your nipples poking through, phone propped up against something so that only your lips and everything else from below are in view. "P-peanut, what are you doing?" He clears his throat a bit, boxers already suffocating the hell out of his dick when he sees your hand traveling down to your lace thong. You raise it enough for him to see your fingers slowly trailing down towards your clit.

"Showing you what else I wish you could do."

"Aren't your mom and aunt around?" He freaks out a bit because he's not sure how to handle this? Like, phone sex? Was this real? "Are we really going to do this right now?!" He had so many question marks and exclamation points going off in his head, but who was he to even turn this shit down?

"I'm in my own room, Kook. Relax." You let out a small, breathy moan before biting onto your bottom lip again. He watches you touch yourself through Facetime, dick incredibly [and painfully] rock hard as he watches you give off small twitches from time to time, back slightly arching at the pleasure spreading throughout your entire body. "Wish you could touch me like this right now."

"Feels good?" He asks, licking his dry lips as he continues to watch. This— this probably tops everything he has ever seen and watched [forgive him].

"Mmmyeah—" You moan. "Touch yourself for me, babe. I don't wanna do this alone if I can't have you here."

"Y-you sure?"

"About you? More than anything." He lets out a breath, adjusting his phone so that you could see him play along. He feels a little weird, honestly. Guilty in a sense. But, this was a little bit more different for him— you were his girl, his peanut, his princess. He never wanted to do you wrong. He never wanted to make it seem like you were just an object, something to get off to. Because no, you weren't. You were more than that. He adored you in so many ways you probably didn't even know.

"P-princess." He grips onto his member underneath his boxers, still hesitant about pulling it out in full view. What if they heard you two? "Your mom and—"

"No, they can't. My door is locked, they're both asleep on the other side of the suite. Kook, please." You almost whine, and he can hear how wet you're getting through FaceTime alone. He nods, shoving his boxers down just enough for his length to spring free and get some air. "God, I want you so bad."

"Want you too, pretty." He responds shakily, pleasure quickly surging through his veins as he strokes himself and watches you. "Fuck, you look so hot in my shirt." He lets out a small moan, continuing to watch as you pinch your own nipple and grind into your hand.

"I'm so wet."

"Wish I could feel you." He responds, picking up his pace to keep up with you. Your soft moans through the phone are driving him insane, he almost wants to hop in his car and ruin this girls weekend just so he could be inside of you. But he won't— he'll be good, to an extent. This will do until he sees you. "Wish I could touch you."

"Jungkook." You moan his name, imagining his large, veiny hands caressing your body.

"Wish I could taste you, too." He was never one to be super open during these times, and you never forced him to be on a certain level if he wasn't comfortable. Yet, he always found his own little way to match you and turn you on like no other. He hums prettily as a follow-up response, letting out another moan himself.

"I'm gonna cum soon. Are you close?" He nods.

"Yeah, princess." His tip is coated with pre-cum, glistening under the light. He imagines running it through your pussy lips and staying there before he edges himself into you little by little. He hears your breathing hitching, pussy making those slip and slide noises he loves to hear. He hears you pant a bit, watches your chest rise and fall repeatedly while you whimper. Your back arches as your fingers rub endlessly at your clit, making it incredibly hard for Jungkook to hang on until he sees you reach your peak. And it doesn't take long— you reach it rather quickly after this point because he sees your body twitch, followed by repeated curses and pants. He could almost see your pretty pussy pulsating from here.

"Oh fuck, fuck! Oh my god— Kook." You moan a bit loudly, but it still isn't enough to wake up a household. Jungkook continues to pump himself a bit more, watching as you slip your glistening fingers from underneath your thong and into your mouth— that being the exact thing that makes him explode.

God, you were so fucking hot.

"Oh shit—fuck—" He pants and groans, white cum spurting out and landing onto his stomach and abdomen. "Princess, holy shit—" He says, while it's your turn to watch his chest rise and fall, Jungkook adjusting himself in his position as he tries to bring himself back down from his high.

"You're hot." You say with a giggle.

"Says you." He chuckles, still trying to catch his breath. "Shit." He says, grabbing a tissue from his nightstand to clean himself up. "Gross."

"Yeah right." You snort.

"Would rather let this out inside you, you know?" He says nonchalantly as he cleans himself up, making you laugh.

"You're funny."

"Yeah, I mean, how else did I get lucky with you?" You shake your head and smile, adjusting the phone so that your boyfriend could look at your face. You yawn as you settle back into the sheets, the quick session enough to tire you out for the night. "Sleepy?" He catches your yawn.

"Tired now, yeah." He chuckles.

"Go to sleep, peanut. I'll be here." He smiles as he watches you close your eyes, snuggling deeply into the sheets. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You respond sleepily. Jungkook begins to sing softly, knowing it's something you enjoy before drifting off, pulling his nintendo switch towards him so he could play until he felt himself getting tired.

⇥ E N D F L A S H B A C K

He couldn't wait to see you, and honestly, he had been counting down the hours before you would finally text him and tell him you were home. He remembers how pretty you looked touching yourself, how gorgeous you were in nothing but his white tee and that lace thong—

"Woah, what the fuck dude?" Jungkook is startled out of his thoughts when Jimin swings the door open and stands there. He doesn't say anything besides smile shyly, making Jungkook raise his brow while sitting up. "Are you broken?" Jimin chuckles a bit before taking a step further into his room with a big [mischievous] smile.

"Why won't you play another round of Red Dead online with us?"

"Because I'm busy." Kook responds, still laying back on his bed while Jimin eyes him.

"Clearly." He jumps onto his bed and attempts to pinch Kook's nipple.

"I'll drop kick your ass if you do it." Jimin laughs.

"Just one more mission with the boys."

"We just finished so many missions an hour ago. We got so much shit done, you can't tell me otherwise."

"One. More." Jimin says at a faint whisper, one finger up in the air as he dramatically pretends to be dying while he waits for Jungkook's approval. Suddenly, Kook's phone vibrates next to him, making the two shoot their eyes over at the device. He picks up his phone, eyes glowing when he sees the beloved, long awaited text come through on his lockscreen:

[peanut] 6:47pm: i'm home, babe! sorry it took me so long, we had dinner before they dropped me off. i have some food for you!

"And I'm off!" Jungkook says, springing off of his bed to grab his keys and wallet.

"Welp, mission aborted." Jimin says, following Jungkook out of the room. "Tell Peanut I said hi."

"Me too!" Hoseok yells from the couch.

"Me three!" Taehyung says, gobbling up his sandwich at the kitchen counter.

"And when the hell did you even get here?" Jungkook points at him as he heads out the door. He loved his friends, everyone knows this. They were his boys, his solid day-ones even though he treated them poorly at one point. They never gave up on him. And don't get him wrong, he loves spending time with them. But a whole weekend away from you felt like eternity, and he couldn't wait to get to you.

Just wanting to hold you, touch you, feel you.

You had offered to drive to his place, but Jungkook insisted on coming by— mainly so he could have you to himself without any other distractions. He could use the private time with you, even if that meant kissing you until the clock hits midnight;

Even if that meant rounds of whispering sweet nothings against your skin while he showed you just how much he missed you.

Even if that meant simply holding you in his arms and singing you to sleep.

Luckily for Jungkook, he gets to do all of the above.

“Kook!” You excitedly say when Jungkook walks through the door. Just as you wrap your arms around his neck, Jungkook pulls you into a deep kiss— carrying you and wrapping your legs around his waist. You squeal into the kiss, feeling Jungkook’s large hands grip your ass and press you flush against him. “Kook, what’s gotten into you?” You giggle when he pulls away and smirks, gently placing you at the edge of your bed.

“Just missed you.” He says, helping shed off your clothes rather quickly. “Missed you so much, peanut.”

“Did you now?” You tease just before he locks his lips with yours for another deep kiss.

“Always. Think it’s my turn to show you just how much I missed you. If that’s alright with you?”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” You respond with a sweet smile. He continues to kiss you, tongues fighting for dominance while he sheds off his own clothes in between. He wastes no time lining himself up at your entrance while he keeps you steady on the edge of the bed and he inches himself in— easily gliding inside of you with the help of your slickness coating him. The sight itself makes Jungkook let out a breathy moan, shutting his eyes to keep himself together.

Though, it’s easy to remember the call and just how goddamn beautiful you looked through the phone screen; touching yourself, feeling yourself, imagining Jungkook doing the things he’s about to do to you right at this moment.

Jungkook lowers his body enough so that you feel his warmth against yours, hand tangled in your hair as he whispers how pretty you are against your neck— gently nipping and sucking at the surface in between praises. He quickens his pace when he hears your moans get a little louder, grip on his biceps a little stronger. His movements are getting sloppier, especially when he feels your walls squeeze him; signaling that you’re only moments away from reaching your peak.

“Jungkook—” You pant, hips matching his movements to feel more friction, to feel more of him. “Close, babe. Close—” You respond in between pants, not able to concentrate on your thoughts as you feel yourself spiraling.

“That’s it, pretty.” He coos, hitting all your spots deeply. It takes a few more thrusts before you finally unravel and writhe underneath him— face contorting in pleasure, a silent moan leaving your lips. “Fuck. You’re so good to me.” Jungkook says, letting himself go. His head falls to your shoulder as he paints your walls, letting out small groans against your skin. You let out a few more whimpers, sensitive from the orgasm that rippled through your body seconds ago. “So perfect.” He murmurs as he raises his head and looks at you. He brushes the hair out of your face, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. Nose. Lips. “Really missed you, peanut.”

“Missed you too, Kook.” You smile, giving him one last peck on the lips before he pushes himself off and begins to clean you up.

Once you’ve both gotten cleaned and freshened up, Jungkook helps himself to some of the food you brought home for him, while you lay in bed binging one of your favorite dramas. You feel the exhaustion from the trip hit you even though it isn’t too late in the evening yet, your body hoping to catch up on some sleep and make up for all the adventures you’ve done with your mom and aunt. Jungkook can tell, too. He knows you’re tired, and he doesn’t mind it one bit. He slips in next to you and throws on a show to watch, knowing he’ll be up for a few more hours before he finds himself feeling sleepy. He pulls you close and lets you snuggle against him— finally ending the night with you in his arms while he sings you to sleep.

He smiles when he hears your soft snores, brushing your hair as he continues to hum softly.

He had you to love, and that itself, was the best thing he could ever ask for.

permanent taglist: @spideyjimin @miinoongi @thebeebi @ggukkieland @bluesharksandfish @unicornbabylover @preciouschimine @codeinebelle @shesoldbutcute @jikookiekosmos @awhnamjoon @namjooningelsewhere @bunnybearrj @babycoffeefire @bri-mal @sintaethick @taejkjoons @love2luvya-blog @pb-n-juju @dianaxnyc @fan-ati--c @jungjoonie @jcsmae @ppeachyttae @awseokjin @jjk1iscoming @moonchild1 @vantxx95 @knjeuphoria @jksjx @oogawooga222 @yoonqki @halesandy @chimchimmarie @chimsworldsstuff (so sorry if the perm taglist isnt updated!)

#bts #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jk smut #jk angst #kpop fanfic #xpeachesncream #lowkey series #lowkey drabbles

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h3rmess · 3 months

Text

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY

Written by @h3rmess ✰

navi☆

-> cowboy!satoru x afab!reader x cowboy!suguru

warnings - SMUT! use of swear words, use of some spanish (im not native so please correct me if I got something wrong!!) Spanish translation at the end!!

notes - im literally screaming satosugu as cowboys have me in a CHOKEHOLDDD - smut is not usual from me pls don't cringe, or I'll cry

Wandering into the unfamiliar town, I looked around for anything that could indicate my next move. My horse, Lucky, was worn out beyond belief. The summer heat was like no other as she trotted through the desert. I dismounted, spotting a stable a few steps away from us. I led my girl into the stable, the shade it provided, relieving us instantly. I looked around to see if anyone was there.

"Hello? Anybody here?" I hollered, receiving no reply. With a huff, I stroked Lucky's head, comforting her, urging her to hold up a little longer.

A whistle echoed through the stable, catching my attention instantly.

"Well, ain't she a beauty!" His boots clicked on the ground, his hands in the loopholes of his jeans as he made his way in front of us.

"She really is." I looked at Lucky, petting her as she shook her head, neighing.

"I wasn't talking about the horse, muñeca." His voice deepened, igniting something in me.

He made his way closer towards me, inspecting me with careful eyes, his long black hair flowing out of his hat.

"What's a beauty like you doin' 'round here?" He neared me, his slender eyes making me feel like I had to submit to him.

"Oh! I - uh, got a lil' lost." I tried my best to maintain composure.

"Well, don't worry, amor, we'll take good care of you." He slung his arm around me, the proximity only worsening the heat I felt.

"W-we?" I stuttered, causing him to chuckle and turn his head to look behind him.

"Satoru!" He shouted.

As if on cue, a man came in riding a gorgeous brown horse, looking absolutely majestic.

"Yeah? Oh my!" He exclaimed, immediately jumping off his horse and walking towards me. "Who's this?" He asked the black hair man.

"She hasn't told us yet. What's your name, guapa?"

Me breath hitched before I told him, a satisfied hum leaving both their mouths.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady." The man with white hair spoke, taking his sunglasses off to reveal his huge, blue eyes. The colour mesmerised me, causing me to freeze in place, completely unable to move.

"¿Qué pasó, princesa? Cat got your tongue?" The person who I figured to be Satoru taunted, moving closer to me.

My heart beat quickened and I began to swear, thinking only one thing about these men ; they are so fuckable.

"What did you come here for, hm?" The black haired man spoke, his tone making me want to drop to my knees.

"My- uh- m-my horse, Lucky. She's dehydrated, and I wanted to get her some food, water, and rest." I stumbled over each word, making a fool of myself.

"Hear the way she's stuttering, Suguru!" Satoru nudged the black haired man as they both chuckled.

"She truly is precious. Can't let a gem like you get away now, can we?" Suguru's hand found its way to my chin, holding it firmly and lifting my head up to look into his eyes. "We'll get ya all fixed up, alright? Don't you worry, linda."

I nodded dumbly at the two men, following them into where the horses were kept, leading my girl on behind me.

They kept to their word, making sure Lucky had enough food and plenty of water and then allowing her to sleep. I was so grateful to them for lending us their resources out of the kindness of their hearts.

Those same hearts that I hadn't known wanted nothing more than to bend me over.

"She's all rested now, alright?" Satoru spoke, taking his hat off and taking a seat in a room separate to the stable. His legs were spread apart as sweat leaked down his semi-exposed chest. I tried to look at any modest part of him, but no matter how hard I tried, he managed to turn my thoughts lewd time and time again.

He sat on one side of me, Suguru, on the other in a similar position.

Would I be able to take them both? They both look so damn sexy right now. I wonder how big they are...

My thoughts caused my thighs to squeeze together. I thought about how they would manhandle me and I wouldn't complain. I yearned for friction, anything to give me a little bit of relief.

"¿Qué estás haciendo, muñequita?" Suguru asked, his hair out of its prevous bun and now falling sluttily onto his shoulders. It only made the heat between my legs grow, my thighs squeezing closer together.

I hadn't noticed, but I was staring. Intensely. I was undressing him with my eyes.

A finger snapped in front of my eyes, which happened to be Satoru's.

"You okay, querida?" He asked, his voice playful.

"Huh?" I replied simply, turning my head to face him.

"You've been looking at us like you want to fuck us since you got here." Suguru chimed in, making my face flush in embarrassment.

I tried to speak, but no words came out.

"You want us to fuck you, hm?" Satoru hummed, his sweet voice making a squirm slightly.

I nodded furiously, waiting for either of them to make a move.

"Use your words, mami." Suguru sent me over the edge as he placed his hand on my thigh, inching up closer and closer to my heat.

"Yes. Please, I need you... both of you." I mewled pathetically, embarrassed by the words that had just come out of my mouth.

With no hesitation, Suguru slipped his hands under my thighs, hoisting me up onto his lap. I felt his hardness underneath me, instinctively rolling my hips slowly over it, earning a soft grunt from him. His hands found my waist, caressing it up and down, further riling me up.

Satoru took my face in his hands, turning my head towards him and kissing me. He ate at my mouth, covering every single inch of my lips. I groaned into the kiss as Suguru's hands slipped under my skirt, holding onto the rim of my panties.

I grinned against him even harder, feeling Satoru's tongue slip into my mouth, digging its way down my throat.

"Calmate, girl!" Suguru announced, holding my hips to prevent any more movement.

Satoru pulled away from my lips, finding his way to my neck and sucking on the tender skin. I whimpered at his movements, making me grip on to Suguru's shoulders tighter than before.

His hands reached under my skirt, placing a singular finger pad on my clothed bunch of nerves. I cried out, needy and desperate, already fucked-out.

"So pretty..." Satoru whispered on my neck, the sensation paired with the praise, only making me wetter. I whined as I leaned into Suguru's chest.

"Please..." I cried as he massaged me, longing for closer contact.

"Hmm? Please what, amor?" His eyes were stuck on my tits which were squashed against his chest, making his cock twitch.

"I need you.." Satoru pulled away as I spoke, whisking me up and placing me on his lap, taking over Suguru's role.

"Need us how? Dime qué quieres, muñeca." Suguru's lips kissed my collar bone as Satoru unbuttoned my top.

I could only whimper as Satoru's left hand slipped beneath my panties, playing with my slick.

"She's so wet!" Satoru exclaimed, his lack of speech only to be blamed on him being completely immersed in the moment.

His finger moved to Suguru, who opened his mouth and sucked on it, tasting me.

"So sweet..." He groaned, palming himself through his jeans as he kissed my neck once more.

"I need to taste straight from the source. Would you like that, hermosa?" Satoru asked, pushing me down onto my back and moving himself in line with my still covered heat.

I nodded as he tugged at my panties before he stopped and looked up at me.

"Quiero oírte decirlo. Tell me that you want it." He asks for my consent as his face is between my legs, possibly being the hottest thing I've experienced.

"I want it." I tell him as he smirks, kissing up my thighs and sliding my panties down my legs.

"So pretty for us." He says, delving into my folds.

"The prettiest." Suguru adds.

TRANSLATION :

Muñeca = doll

Amor = love

Guapa = pretty

¿Qué pasó, princesa? = what happened, princess?

Linda = cutie

¿Qué estás haciendo, muñequita? = what are you doing, dolly?

Querida = dear

Mami = mommy

Calmate = take it easy

Dime qué quieres, muñeca = tell me what you want, doll

Hermosa = gorgeous

Quiero oírte decirlo = I want to hear you say it

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brainddeadd · 20 days

Text

"Daddy gon' be back to turn you inside out"

Matthew (BM) x fem!reader

smut - oral (both receiving and giving), unprotected sex (pls don't), big dick!matthew, daddy kink, breeding kink, ass play and anal, titty sucking, they fuck in a car - they're desperate and horny ok?

he outed himself as having a daddy kink in his own damn song, what was i supposed to do? ignore that? yeah right

(he's big i know it)

Pulled up to her house

Sex on the bed

Sex on the couch

Sex in the kitchen fucked her brains out

Every position, let our imaginations run wild

Fuck like a savage, but I keep it gentleman

Let her cum twice before let one out

This gon' be the best sleep she had in a while

Matthew was leaving for tour in the morning. Well.. night technically. 3am.

Which is why you're currently on your knees, by the front door, clothes still on and his simply pushed out of the way for easy access, while you have the tip of his thick, long cock pressing into your throat, spit covering your face and neck.

"Fuck, such a good girl," the praise has you rubbing your thighs together for some friction, and he chuckles at the sight. "Poor lil baby getting horny from having daddy's dick in her throat?"

You moan around his length.

"Up," he gives your hair a gentle tug, and you rise to your feet, hands reaching to hold his waist, seeking the warmth of his body. "Couch, clothes off."

You move quickly, hands fumbling to drag your jeans and t-shirt off. Positioning yourself on the couch, you arch your back to present your ass the way you know he likes, a pink gem gaining his attention.

"Stretched for daddy?"

"Yes daddy."

"Good girl." He rewards you with a slap to your ass, a squeal leaving your lips as he presses into your space from behind. "I'm gonna fuck your pussy first, ok?"

"Yes, daddy." He runs his tip through your folds, grunting at the slick that's gathered there.

"Baby, you know I love you, right?" His voice is so soft, so sincere, and you nod.

"Of course I do, Matty, I love you too." He presses a soft kiss to you lips.

"Good," he moves your hips to be lined up with his. "Because I'm about to fuck you like I don't."

He doesn't give you any warning, doesn't let you adjust, just drives his hips forwards, cock filling you up, stretching you out and then pulls back, hips thrusting in a brutal, punishing pace. Grunting, he presses you forwards, your chest colliding with the couch as he makes his hips move faster, rougher.

You're squealing and yelping and moaning and hands are reaching back for him, squeezing the cushions of the couch, drool pooling in your mouth and sliding out. There's sweat gathering on your skin, dripping from his forehead and nose, his hand tangled in your hair and the other holding your hip in a bruising grip.

"M'gonna cum, daddy, gonna cum-"

"Cum on my cock, baby, give it to me." His pace doesn't slow down as he removes his hand from your hair in favour of reaching around to rub harsh circles into your clit, grunting as your body tenses, walls fluttering as you cum with a silent scream around his cock.

He pulls out, crouching down to latch his lips to your clit, and suck, harshly, your body thrashing on the couch, hands flying to his hair, unsure if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. He presses the butt plug further into your ass, groaning when the sensation brings you to your second orgasm, whimpers and sobs leaving your lips at the overstimulation - god, he loves to make you cry.

He pulls away, picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom, lying you down softly, hand soothing your hair.

"You with me, baby?"

"Mmhh, I'm with you," you're reaching out for him, hands gripping his muscle, pulling him closer. "You didn't cum, daddy."

"That's ok baby, you just rest for now." When you whine, he soothes his hand over your ribs. "We have time baby, don't worry."

He holds you to his chest for a while, body relaxing with yours, content to just hold you close, knowing it'll be a while before he get's to experience this again.

"Matt," he hums in response. "Fuck me again, please."

His cock jumps at your words, and you're pulling away, rolling over to your knees before he can process the loss of warmth.

"Fuck my ass, please." He drags a hand down his face, grunting that you'll be the death of him, body moving behind yours automatically, hand finding the plug in your ass, giving it a little tug. "Please, I'm so ready for you."

His hand rubs your ass as he pulls the plug out, the tip of his cock quickly replacing it, both of you grunting as he pushes in.

"Fuck, baby-" he knows he should let you adjust, but when you rock back on to him, he really can't help himself, and gives you slow, sharp thrusts of his hips.

It doesn't take long for his hips to be moving wildly, chasing the high he's been neglecting since you got home, hand rubbing at your clit wildly, determined to make you cum with him.

"In me, cum inside, daddy, please-" you can tell he's close, can feel the way his cock is twitching, and your begging only brings him closer.

Refusing to cum anywhere other than your pussy, especially when he's leaving for a while, he pulls his cock out, thrusting into your pussy, just in time for his warm cum to splatter against your walls, his body folding over yours.

The feeling of him folding over you, has your body following his over the edge, your pussy contracting around him as he groans.

"I've gotta go, baby," Matthew's trying to leave, hair still wet from the shower he's just left. "The car's here."

"I'm coming with you."

"Baby-"

"No arguments." You're out the door before he can try to stop you, so he sighs and follows behind you, already knowing that he's going to have to tip the driver extra.

You're still bouncing in his lap when the car comes to a stop, but it doesn't make a difference. Your hips move frantically, lips pressed to his desperately, tears on your cheeks.

"I love you, I love you-" you're both crying as you cum, his arms holding you close to his body.

"Daddy gon' be back to turn you inside out" he promises as he leaves, a lingering kiss on your lips and a fresh load of cum dripping onto the seat below you.

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writemywaytoyourheart · 7 months

Text

Bedeviled | FINAL- Chapter 15a: alea iacta est

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, horror

WC for PART 1: 13.6k

This is a two part chapter guys, dont miss 15b, it will be linked at the end of this chapter.

Warnings for this part: ⚠️this chapter contains intense, heavy & possibly triggering material, pls read at your own discretion⚠️ strong language, blood, torture, grief, mentions of death, brief mention of past murder, strong religious themes throughout, mentions of witchcraft, implied human sacrifice, summoning of and dealing with demons, ANGST, physical violence, guilt, heavy heavy stuff u guys b careful, if there's anything I missed pls kindly let me know.

ML Previous

“Guardian angel…what’s happened?”

The look in her eyes was gentle even though the worry was clear.

“I will tell you soon, I promise. Trust in me that now is not the time.”

A slender hand gestured towards the giant golden gates, a reminder of what was to come.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, an understanding and comfort sweeping through you that the time would arrive to know everything. You looked up at the shining entrance and noticed beautiful gems lining the golden bars in every color imaginable.

It was stunning.

Your angel reached out a hand and ever so gently touched the sleek bars; sending a shudder through the entirety of the gate that simultaneously went through you, deep into your bones.

You didn’t notice you were holding your breath until the gate opened and there was a soft yet steady hand on your shoulder.

Taking a tentative step forward, you gulped as the cloud beneath you kept you from plummeting through it.

A few more steps and you were almost inside.

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath that filled your lungs. As it blew out slowly, you could feel any and every worry leaving with it as the sound of a celestial choir arose and an overwhelming feeling of love consumed you.

Then you stepped through the gates.

The grip on your upper arms is harsh as you’re dragged carelessly down the last few steps. The sound of tortured screams echo around you, bouncing off the walls and shaking you to the core.

Then the smell hits you.

A smell so vile you would never be able to put it into words if someone asked. It turns your stomach to rot within seconds, but it’s too late to hold your breath now.

I’m okay.

You shake uncontrollably as the demons proceed to half carry you down a long hall, the sound of their footsteps drowned out by the screams of the sinners whose fate you are soon about to share in.

At least it isn’t him.

You gulp and close your eyes despite it already being pitch black; the action only a desperate attempt to conjure some form of comfort.

You flinch when the loud clank of metal reaches your ears.

It sounds like someone is unlocking a very large padlock.

Then an ear piercing squeak follows when what you can only assume is a cell door is opened.

You’re brought into the cell and immediately thrown to the ground harshly, a pained gasp knocked out of you when you hit the stone floor.

There’s a puddle of something wet and warm under your hands and the stench of urine instantly fills your nostrils. You don’t even have a moment to register the disgust before you’re being grabbed roughly again and yanked to the middle of the room.

The unmistakable sound of jangling chains fills your ears and you bite your bottom lip. Your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the darkness due to the sliver of blood red light seeping in through a crack near the upper right corner behind you.

You can just barely make out what is probably Sav in front of you, but more of that comes from the energy you feel and less the sight of him.

A deep chuckle sounding directly ahead confirms it as your arms are yanked up so violently that you inadvertently cry out. The demons only continue to laugh as one on each side of you shackles your wrists to the rusted cuffs hanging from the ceiling.

You realize with horror only seconds before it happens that the chains are a certain height, designed like everything else here; to wring the most torture they can out of you.

A broken scream gets stuck in your throat when the demons let go of you and your body weight is forced down by gravity, pulling at your shoulders harshly. Only a bit of pressure is taken off by your feet holding you up just enough on tiptoe. You know that eventually your shoulders will not be able to handle it, when you are no longer strong enough to stand. They will inevitably be pulled out of place.

Breathing in and out slowly in shaky gasps, you don’t even try to fight as your ankles are shackled as well, even though you won’t be going anywhere with even just the wrists bound in iron.

The sound of another set of chains makes you close your eyes.

Flinching harshly, you bite your lip when you feel your wings squeezed painfully by cold metal restraints of their own.

Fear clenches your heart as you wait with bated breath.

“Leave us.”

Heavy footfalls go to the cell door, the loud creak sounds, then the footsteps diminish into the torture being dealt elsewhere in the dungeon.

You say nothing, feeling his stare on you while you keep your eyes closed.

“I’m going to ask questions and you are going to answer, do you understand?”

He’s met with silence, but chooses to ignore that and begins anyway.

“Why are you here?”

When you don’t answer, he steps forward and growls.

“Do you want me to fucking hurt you right now, you little bitch? Answer me.”

You open your eyes and stare at the dark floor, but say nothing.

“Answer me or when the time comes I’ll hurt him more than I need to.”

A beat of silence passes.

“I came to get something,” you grit out, tears stinging your eyes.

Sav chuckles in disbelief.

“How strange you are, little puppet. You say nothing when your own precious body is on the line, but when it comes to a random demon you found in Hell, you will give it all up.”

You sigh shakily, knowing that he can do whatever he wants to you and still get you to talk when he threatens to hurt a certain fellow demon of his.

“Oh this is going to be fun.”

His heeled boots clunk against the floor as he begins to pace, smirking at your defeated posture.

“What did you come to get?”

You gulp, noticing how dry your throat is.

“Something I’ve waited a long time for.”

“The Flame of Immortality?”

You’re not sure how he found out that little made-up story, but you don’t ask.

He sighs through his nose in annoyance at your silence.

“Why should an angel need the Flame? You’re already immortal. Besides, don’t you holy creatures frown at the use of it?”

“I didn’t tell you I needed it,” you whisper.

“A little birdie told me you did.”

“Maybe you should stop taking information from random little birdies-”

A harsh slap lands across your cheek and you instantly taste blood as your head hangs to the side and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to try and control the urge to make a sound.

You don’t want to give him that satisfaction.

“You’re going to regret not taking my offer to let you speak and delay your punishment.”

He grabs your face, pinching your cheeks tightly and making you look at him.

Oddly enough, you can see his blue eyes in the dim light, his hair falling into them.

“If pain is what you want, rest assured that is what I will give you.”

You glare back at him in response, earning another slap to your other cheek.

Sav steps back and observes you.

“You look a little too confident as an angel at the hands of demons that are only too willing to hurt her.”

You just stare at him, hands chained above your head and shoulders aching terribly.

“Your smug silence will only cause you more agony.”

He gets no response.

The demon turns and walks to a corner of the cell, a dark alcove where you can not see what is inside.

“Fine by me, little angel.”

You expect him to emerge with something, so you’re taken by surprise when he only comes back out, empty handed, to lean against the wall.

“Undidis.” His voice rings out in the dim light.

Then the iron cell door opens and the large lizard-like demon that grabbed you in the hall stalks in, a grotesque smile spread across his toothy snout.

You don’t have a moment to think before he hits you across the face so hard that your vision spins violently and a headache blossoms. A few of your teeth feel like they were loosened by the impact. You breathe out a pained groan.

The demon hits you in the stomach, then kicks your right shin harshly out from under you, undoubtedly leaving a mark that will bruise if he didn’t fracture it outright.

The weight of your beaten body pulls down on your shoulders and you cry out.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Undidis steps away and sneers, “Look at her. She’s like a little doll we get to ruin all we want.”

Sav chuckles at his words.

“And she can stop it any time she would like. Are you ready to stop, angel?”

You gulp, cringing at the metallic taste in your mouth, then you shake your head slowly.

He scoffs and goes back to the alcove, disappearing into the darkness.

____.

Tears form in your eyes at the sound of her voice in your mind.

Angel…I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you…I’m sorry I failed.

Sav steps out and you see something long and thin hanging from his hand.

____, you have not failed. Do not let them make you believe otherwise.

“Still feeling brave?” Sav mocks, running the whip between his fingers repeatedly, his eyes moving over your form hungrily; ready to draw screams from you with each crack of it.

You are sure you want to do this? Only say the word and it will stop.

You pull your gaze away from Sav and up to the ceiling of the cell. Up to where you might be able to imagine all of them if you think hard enough.

The words that leave your mouth are sure to send him into a fit, but it doesn’t stop you from saying them.

“I’m okay, Guardian Angel.”

Sav’s face falls, then it twists in anger as he steps closer to you, “We’ll just see where that bravery gets you.”

You can see the hatred in his eyes before he walks behind you and is out of your line of sight.

You shut your eyes only moments before the whip makes contact with your back and rips the first scream from your lungs.

________________________

“Find your own way out of Hell.”

The look of terror and disbelief in your eyes did nothing to stop him from turning; from leaving you alone and never looking back.

JK keeps his eyes forward as he stalks across the empty planes between the eighth and ninth circles of Hell, his jaw taut with barely contained rage.

He has no intention of going back to you, or even turning around to see if perhaps his eyes betrayed him in a moment of insanity.

Of all the things he theorized about you in his head, you being one of those sorry pawns from His pathetic army was never even close to being one…

When the golden light bouncing off the vibrant green leaves flashes through his brain again, the demon shakes his head and keeps walking.

You must have poisoned his thoughts in some way- with all your nasty little angel abilities to put images in minds. That must have been part of your plan the entire time: to confuse him, to disorient him enough so that you could do whatever the hell it was you were here to do in the first place.

The silent anger continues to build inside, leaving no room to wonder or even care about where you might be.

_________________

The broken scream from the last lash of the whip leaves your throat raw as you gasp in a breath. You had held them in as much as you could, but the pain after the first fifteen lashes was too much. You had no idea how many more he had done since.

Sav runs his fingers down the length of the thin instrument, dragging the blood off of it to drip onto the floor in red splatters.

“Why him?” He asks lowly, voice deep with impatience.

Your shaky breaths echo off the stone walls.

Sav grabs your chin with rough fingers, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, the smirk on his face growing at the way you squeeze your eyes shut with pain, the blood from his fingers smearing onto your skin.

“Why…” He leans close, his cold breath fanning your wet cheeks, “...him?”

You swallow thickly before whispering, unable to keep the strength in your voice no matter how hard you try, “I only asked him to lead me becau-”

A shaky breath gets caught in your throat and you cough a little.

“-because he was the first one I ran into.”

The grip on your face tightens for a second before the demon shoves you away and takes a step back to observe his prisoner.

“Do not make the mistake of feeling secure in telling me the truth. It will not spare you any pain.”

You open your eyes and look at him.

“I know.”

His jaw clenches, then a smirk slowly spreads on his face again.

“How unlucky for you that he was merely a pawn in your little game. If there was more to tell on JK, I might have decided to prolong the fun in order to wring more out of you.”

His words neither lessen nor heighten your anxiety. You know he is going to torture you without restraint, you have known since the moment you were grabbed in the tunnel while trying to get away. He does not need any more information from you; that is not why you are in this dungeon under the Chamber of Souls. You are merely here for their twisted sport.

Finding an angel in the middle of Hell is a prize beyond the count of worth.

Without turning, Sav drops the whip on the floor and points at the alcove.

The demon, Undidis, that has been standing silent to the side for the entirety of the whipping instantly walks that way and disappears into the darkness.

The sound of metal clanging around from where he went reaches your ears, but you do not move your gaze from Sav’s.

“The monarch butterfly on your arm,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “Why is it colored?”

He snorts, “Why would I feel the need to divulge any information about myself to you? You are already at my feet, you are already mine to break.”

“Do you not know?”

His gaze hardens as he stares at you with a raw hatred after seeing the unwavering look in your gaze.

The look in his own eyes confirms what you already know: that he will not give you a moment of relief once he begins.

There is no reason for either of them to hold back.

You take a steadying breath and close your eyes slowly.

Stepping through the gates, your eyes landed immediately on your aunt.

Yoongi’s mother, who died many years ago.

Her skin seemed to radiate a very subtle glow as she smiled at you warmly. There were no wings on her back and she was clothed in a soft white tunic that fell to her ankles. She looked young and healthy, her eyes resembling Yoongi’s almost exactly.

You smiled back, then your gaze shifted to see the man stepping out from behind her who wasn’t an angel either.

It was your father.

You had never met him, but there was something inside of you that just knew. For some odd reason you also knew what had happened to him, why he left one day before you were even born and never came back.

You thought maybe he had been sick like you or just abandoned you and mother. It never occurred to you that he was killed on the road and never found. Your heart hurt terribly at this revelation.

His lips…they looked like yours. Your hair color was the same too. He also looked somewhat like Yoongi’s mother, the shared genes were clear.

You briefly remembered the days leading up to your death, when you hallucinated a man in the corner of the shack, staring at you. You had thought it was your father, but it wasn’t, he didn’t look like this man. This man’s eyes were kind, his touch comforting as he gave you a quick hug and whispered how happy he was to finally meet you.

You hugged him back tightly, a breath stuck in your throat, your mind still in a state of disbelief.

He pulled away then and stepped back, no longer obscuring your view of the beings behind him.

Many many people and angels, some laughing and talking, others smiling and waving at you excitedly.

You didn’t recognize any of them, but they seemed to know you.

They seemed to have known you for a long time.

Realization hit you then, that every single person and angel there, had been waiting for you.

The air itself was alive with relief and genuine unconditional love.

These souls that you did not know, were overjoyed at your arrival.

They were proud of you.

Tears filled your eyes, only a few escaping and falling down your cheeks.

Then you saw her.

The little angel with yellow wings, that had taken your hand and led you to the clouds after you passed.

She was standing in front of another angel that looked no older than fourteen. The young teen had long red hair and wings the color of soil. A bright smile graced her pink lips.

The small yellow angel that you had not recognized when first waking in that shack, had tears in her eyes as she looked at you. Those bunny teeth appeared when she smiled even while the tears fell down her supple cheeks.

“The little ones that pass in the womb become angels.”

She looked just like him.

“Aera?”

The name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper.

Not another moment passed before you were kneeling and the child was running into your open arms, soon engulfed in your embrace.

Her tiny arms wrapped around you and she held on tightly.

You couldn’t help the tears that wracked your body as you kept her close, finally feeling that warmth you always dreamt of.

“I love you,” you whispered the words you always wanted to say between sobs, “I love you so much, I missed you so much.”

Her hug only tightened and she whispered back with that tiny soft voice you could only ever imagine in those long long months, “I missed you too, mommy. I love you.”

You continued to cry on her small shoulder until your tears were utterly spent and you could finally breathe in fully without breaking into another round of weeping.

Only then did you open your eyes and see someone behind her; your gaze traveling from their sandaled feet, up their long beige tunic, and into gentle brown eyes flecked with gold.

Only then did you first look upon the face of the one you never knew you had missed.

Your whole body is quivering uncontrollably, blood drips down your arms and legs, and your shoulders only continue to weaken as the strain on them increases with each new torment they bring upon you.

“Not the face.”

Sav’s deep voice breaks through the fog of pain clouding your mind.

Undidis grunts in annoyance but steps back anyway, the bloody knife gripped in his scaly fist tightly as he resists the urge to mutilate the only part of you that has been left more or less unscathed.

You can faintly hear both of them laughing as they walk around you, behaving like two humans that have stumbled across a most intriguing statue in the museum.

No words pass your lips, only the labored breathing that occasionally becomes so quiet that if they didn’t know any better they’d have thought you suffocated from the lack of oxygen getting to your lungs.

“Such a precious little face, angel. I can’t bring myself to cut it up just yet,” Sav muses with mock pity.

At your lack of response, you get a kick to the same right shin Undidis had struck earlier.

All you give for that is a weak moan.

Sav steps towards you and leans down, his voice becoming soft, “This is only the beginning. You can change your fate, all you have to do is one simple thing.”

The fog in your brain covers most of your thoughts in an attempt to pretend like you are anywhere but here.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“Do nothing and we get to play with you for the rest of eternity. Who needs Him anyway? If you give in to us, the pain He has let be inflicted upon you will lessen.”

Your eyes flutter open at his words and you lift your head only enough to look him in the eye.

“And when my memories are no longer my own,” you mumble quietly, “When I can no longer understand why it hurts…what will happen to me then?”

Sav straightens up, his mouth twisting in rage.

“Will I become like you?” You whisper hoarsely, never looking away from him.

A harsh slap from the back of his hand causes your head to jerk to the side and blood to spray from your mouth and onto the floor, to continue to stain the ancient stone with the life of its current victim.

“You dare to look down on me while I stand above you?” He seethes, “You refuse to acknowledge who is in control?”

“You are not in control.” Is all you say, eyes lifting to the ceiling briefly.

“Is that so?”

A choked gasp gets stuck in your throat when you feel jagged metal sink deep into your abdomen.

Sav pulls the knife back out and lifts it into your view as you gulp and try to control the shivering from sheer pain alone.

Your blood drips down the length of the crooked blade, only inches from your face.

“I think we’ve just run out of time for you. That little face of yours has only begun to anger me.”

Your gaze drifts from the crimson knife and over to his dark blue eyes.

“Your story saddens me, Sav. But it is not you I grieve for.”

There’s a flash of fear deep in his gaze, but it’s quickly clouded once more with hatred.

“You may know things I do not, angel, but I can assure you of this,” he looms over you, only too ready to ruin you beyond recognition, “If you do not deny Him, if you do not lower yourself more than you already are and bow to me; I will rid you of any physical indication of your title. I will tear you limb from limb and you will feel every single second of it.”

A smile spreads on your cracked lips, bright red blood oozing from your mouth.

“Lower yourself to me.” Despite his words, his voice shakes slightly.

The grin on your face does not fade, even as Undidis emerges from the shadows with the next instrument of torture that will leave you in agony beyond comprehension.

You keep your eyes locked on Sav.

“No.”

____________________________________

“Look, Savanis!”

The twenty-year old boy looked up from where he was digging and reached a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. He pushed the dirty blonde hair out of his suntanned face so he could see the little girl a few feet to his left.

“What is it, Marjorie?”

The child frowned at his tone, but quickly brushed it off and pointed at the little flower only inches from her where a beautiful orange and black butterfly sat.

“Isn’t it pretty?” She whispered, leaning in. Long blonde locks fell over her tiny shoulders, the curled ends brushing against the dirt, “I think it’s the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

Savanis rolled his eyes and turned back to the digging that was taking longer than he liked. It wasn’t supposed to be one of the jobs that consumed his entire day. And for this he would only get enough for half a loaf of bread at the market.

The shovel struck the hot dirt viciously, tearing into it and wrenching it from the earth.

“Savi.”

He rolled his eyes at the hundredth interruption that evening alone.

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” He raised his voice, slamming down the small piece of wood he had been carving mindlessly, the sound echoing off the wooden walls of their tiny home.

Tears welled up in the six year old’s big bluebell eyes and he sighed sharply.

“It isn’t my fault the king treats us like scum, Marjorie! What would you have me do? Beg at his feet to let us feast with the royal court? Don’t be so naive. If you’re so hungry then go out and find a way to get us food. Just because mother and father died and left you to burden me doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself useful for once.”

With that, he stood and grabbed the crookedly carved wood, then stormed out of the house, leaving his little sister to self-soothe in her torn blanket, holding her worn out doll friend close to her chest.

It wasn’t even a month’s passing since that night that Savanis stumbled upon the old witch that lived in the woods, the one he had only previously heard tales of.

She was odd enough to deserve the rumors said about her, but she by no means looked to him like she could actually cast magic spells and curse those that betrayed her.

Despite all that, she made decent company when he was out and about in the woods for whatever work he was doing.

The witch spoke of her many encounters with spirits; the good and the evil.

Savanis found himself increasingly drawn to the dark ones she told him of. They seemed more likely to obtain what they desired and he didn’t shy away from the means in which they helped this particular old hag acquire hers.

He began to actively look for work that focused solely on his going into the woods. Those stories began to seem more and more real, and certainly the ways in which the witch lived her life seemed a lot more enjoyable than where he was stuck.

Savanis was determined to change the course of his future, to live his life how he wanted, not to have anyone relying so heavily on him for mere survival.

The time he spent in those woods grew longer and not for the work he was doing halfheartedly by then. For what he was doing, he might never need to work again.

The old witch taught him spells, ways that he could get what he wanted without working all day for it. Ways to read into others’ futures so that they might pay him in exchange for that delicate knowledge. Perhaps, he thought, he could embellish a little here and there as the witch suggested, and so he did. She was right that people would pay more the more you’re willing to divulge, even if only some of it was true.

Marjorie would wait for her brother each night, worrying herself sick while lying in her blankets on the floor of their one room cabin. She would force her little eyes to stay open until she saw him coming into the door quietly and setting his things underneath the floorboards where he thought she couldn’t get them. Then the child would finally be able to sleep.

His items never interested her. One time she was curious and looked in the hiding spot, but only found feathers and vials of strange liquid that smelled funny. When she saw the small blade covered in something red, she hurriedly put the floorboard back over it and never again peeked.

Most of her days were spent outside in her garden.

It wasn’t much of a real garden, but she had lovingly replanted flowers and other strange plants she did not know the name of that she found in the forest.

The bees, dragonflies, and butterflies would swarm her little collection of sweet-smelling flowers, which was one of the reasons she loved it the most.

Marjorie would sit there for hours, simply watching the butterflies flutter to and fro as she nibbled on her bread. She’d offered them some once but they were not interested, so she kept it for herself.

Savi didn’t snap at her so much anymore and he started to bring home more food. She didn’t ask him what he was doing all day and he didn’t offer any details.

Savanis wiped the already dirty rag down the length of his smaller hunting knife as the witch, Tanta he knew her as now, continued to stir the pot above the fire.

When he was finally able to clear most of the crimson smears from the blade, he knelt down and tossed the bloody rag into the fire, his gaze drawn to the strange green hue that illuminated the flames briefly before they faded back to a reddish orange.

“You remembered,” Tanta seemed pleased as she sprinkled something flaky into the pot.

He nodded then sat back to watch her work.

“I’m better than you ever acknowledge.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then why don’t you teach me more? Everything I know is practically useless to me now.”

“I thought all you wanted was a comfortable life,” she mused, not looking in his direction but clearly sporting a knowing grin, “Is that not what I’ve given you? You have food, clothes, and no need for work.”

Savanis sighed loudly, “What good is magic if it doesn’t give you more than the ordinary?”

“What good indeed,” Tanta muttered quietly.

They sat in silence for a little longer, then he heard her speak again.

“I have urged you to do things you have not done.”

He frowned, unsure what she meant for a moment, then it hit him.

“Ah, you mean the rituals?”

“Indeed.”

“So if I worship him more, I’ll be able to do more?”

The only response he got to that was a silent smile.

“I’m not sure I believe it is the thing,” Savanis continued, “Did you not say I was the one capable of magic because of who I am? Not because of some demon king?”

“On your own, you are no more special than that kid sister of yours.”

He bit his tongue at that, irritated.

“She couldn’t handle any of it,” he spat bitterly, glaring at the flames that appeared to have turned bluish, “She’s weak and useless.”

“And that may be so,” Tanta let go of the ladle and turned to him, “But if you want to unlock your true potential, you must give all of yourself to his work.”

“And that means worshiping him every day?”

“The more genuine you become with it, the more you will not drag your feet about it.”

Savanis chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating.

What did he have to lose?

Tanta was right.

The more frequently he did the special rituals to the Leader, as she called him, the more he desired to do them.

A lot of times he’d have to fight the stupid little voice whispering over his shoulder not to do it, saying that he could stop and it wasn’t too late to change. There were days the voice gave him pause.

Tanta told him never to listen to that voice though, that it was a spirit that claimed to be good but only wished for him to lack in anything he desired. Only wished for him to be a puppet and never live for himself.

So he continued to push it out of his head, and continued to make a point to do worse just out of spite.

The darkness that took root in him was continuing to grow, and he welcomed it openly.

Never before this was there much to his bland life.

“You are almost to the highest rank I’ve been told.”

Savanis smirked at the witch that sat on a tree stump in front of him, knitting a dark cloth. It had only been a few months since she first began teaching him and he was already on his way to the top.

“Envious?” He asked, arms crossed and brow raised in arrogance.

She simply smiled at the work in her hands, “I have no reason to envy you child, I have been at the top for many years. I would say delighted is a more fit word to use. After all, you are my pupil.”

“And you are his pupil.”

“Precisely.”

“When do I get to do the final ritual?”

“When he decides you are ready.”

“How will I know?”

Her knowing smile returned.

“You will know.”

Marjorie woke up with a start to see her big brother gathering his things. It was still dark, so she didn’t understand where he might be going. She watched silently from her makeshift bed as he put on his dark cloak and left without a sound.

Savanis lit the fire and stepped back, then tossed the bundle of herbs into it and watched the flames snap and crackle.

He had a dream earlier in the night, a sign he took that it was finally time for him to reach his full potential. The man in the dream told him to come to the spot he was in and do the summoning.

It only took a few moments before the air turned cold and he sensed a presence behind him. He turned and saw a tall handsome man dressed in dark clothes fit for a royal. On his back were large black wings that were at rest.

He smirked at Savanis, who suddenly had a strange feeling that something might not be right.

“At last we meet.”

Savanis swallowed, then spoke up, “You are him, then? The Leader.”

“Lucifer.”

“Lucifer,” Savanis tried out the name, a nasty taste following it in his mouth, but it did nothing to deter him.

“Have you finally come to give your soul to me?” Lucifer asked, eyes locked on the boy in front of him.

“Have you finally decided I’m worth it?”

A dark chuckle floated from the demon.

“You have never been worth it, boy. You are as useless to me as the twig you stand on.”

Savanis’ mouth twisted in anger.

“Then why are you here?”

“You asked me here.”

Savanis scoffed and looked away, feeling utterly humiliated and more than a little angered.

The demon took a step closer, “Do you wish to feel important to me, boy?”

The blonde glared at him, then tilted his chin up, “All I care about is getting what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“I want to be able to do and have whatever I desire without consequences.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Then giving your soul to me is the right answer for you.”

“And yet you turned me down!”

Lucifer chuckled, “I said you are worthless. You are no match for the ones that do my bidding. They are far darker than you.”

“What would you have me do?” Savanis’ voice grew in strength.

He was not afraid of the darkness.

“If you want to give me your soul and join me, you must prove yourself. You must give me something else first.”

“I will give you anything.”

“A life.”

Savanis frowned, confused, “An animal sacrifice? I’ve already given you plenty-”

“Oh no,” the Devil stepped closer again, “One far more precious. A human’s.”

“Easy enough,” Savanis said without hesitation, the blackness in his heart causing him no inner turmoil at the request, “But who?”

A horrible grin spread on the prince of Hell’s face.

“Is there no one in your life you wish to be rid of? No one that has tethered you down until you are merely nothing but the tool to their survival?”

Savanis stared at him for a moment.

That nagging little voice began to beg him to listen, to wait and listen for a moment. Not to make any rash decisions.

But he pushed it away like he had gotten so good at doing.

“Yes, there is.”

______________________________________

“You remember her, don’t you?”

Your voice is broken and raw as you utter the words, head hanging while the weight of your body hangs on your shoulders unforgivingly. The feeling of the joints that are bearing all the weight beginning to dislocate makes you grit your teeth.

Sav stands in front of you, his chest heaving in angry breaths.

He doesn’t respond, only glares harder at your ruined form covered in crimson.

You swallow thickly, tasting the metallic blood that coats the inside of your mouth.

“You remember Marjorie…don’t you?”

Sav grabs your face harshly, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t say that fucking name ever again.”

You stare back evenly as you whisper.

“Why do you pretend like you don’t remember? Who are you trying to convince: the other demons, or yourself?”

His jaw clenches, rage seeping into him at the fact that you know more than he’s comfortable with, the fact that you can read him like a book.

An awkward silence stretches on and you can sense that Undidis is just now hearing of this.

“If you think dropping a name that is in my past will rattle me, you’re wrong,” Sav seethes, fingers pinching your cheeks.

“It isn’t just in your past though, is it? That is your punishment. It haunts you wherever you go, the pain you caused her now racks your own miserable being, and you will never be free of it-”

“Shut the hell up.”

“She’s up there, you know.”

The dark ocean in his irises seems to darken and get colder as you stoke the burning blue flames. He roughly lets go of your face.

“You will never hurt her again, Sav. She needs never to think of you or what you did. Marjorie sings joyfully with the angels and flies with her most beloved creatures.”

He watches your eyes drift to the dead monarch inked on his bicep.

Your voice drops to a whisper as he steps back, hands shaking.

“Marjorie told me of the doll you sewed for her when she was three. She told me of the bread you brought home for her. You were always enough for her.”

You see him swallow thickly, but sense only an empty misery and anger there.

“Even as you sacrificed the life of your only little sister for your selfish desires, she never hated you. She forgave you, Savanis.”

“I said shut up!” He slaps you across the face, snapping your neck to the side violently. Then he grabs your hair and yanks it so that you’re looking at him, his eyes wild with rage, “Your kind has stolen more souls from us than one could count, and yet you have the audacity to mock me while at my mercy? I am not going to stop ruining you, not until you break, and not even then. Beg all you want but I will not stop. Not even when you give in and lower yourself to me!”

“Go ahead!” You scream at the top of your lungs in his face, startling him enough to step back, “No matter how close you think you are to prevailing against His gates, you’ve already lost!!”

The rage is clear in his eyes as he stares you down.

Even as Undidis cracks the whip down on your back and you feel it rip deep into your flesh, pouring more blood down your already scarred skin, you do not look away from the demon standing in front of you.

Despite the difference in your positions, he is the one that looks at you with trepidation swimming in his gaze.

JK walks through the colorless trees of the second ring in the seventh circle, his gaze locked on the ground. The strange images won’t stop, they only ever get worse when he’s looking at anything but the pale dirt beneath him.

Not once has he glanced at the sinners he passed as he stomped his way back through the circles.

Not once has he given a second thought to the words being repeated in his head in a loop, the stupid little pathetic human souls begging him for a chance to ruin themselves.

Not once has he been able to shake the image of you out of his mind.

The terror in your eyes when he left you is burned into his brain.

He wouldn’t think anything of it if the image was paired up with satisfaction and a desire to drag more misery out of you just to see you fall further into despair. But it isn’t. It’s accompanied with nothing but confusion and uncertainty.

“I’d rather live together forever. Wouldn’t you?”

The demon flinches at the soft voice that permeates his mind above all the others, a horrid feeling coming over him like when he sees those images he suddenly can’t escape..

“Live forever? Together?”

The sound of a snapping twig makes him lift his head briefly.

The realization of looking up from the ground hits him too late.

The sight of pale branches and dead leaves sets it off all over again.

Shades of gray blur and morph until a horribly bright green replaces them all, the sound of birds twittering fills his ears, and the warmth of sun caresses his freezing skin.

Laughter surrounds him as he fumbles to a stop in the forest full of so much life and light it’s painful.

The demon glances around uncertainly before reaching shaky hands up to his ears to cover them, squeezing harshly to drown out the voices that seem so familiar and yet so foreign.

For a moment, he thinks maybe he’s mistaken and that he was just summoned by a desperate soul seeking solace in the most perfectly horrid place.

Just as he’s calming himself and taking his hands away from his ears, he stops abruptly after almost running into a large tree.

He flinches back to avoid colliding into it.

As the demon backs up slowly, he runs into something else. He turns to see an old swing hanging from one of the branches of the tree; it’s rocking back and forth slightly due to the force of him running into it.

His hands begin to shake more than they have been since you put those wretched thoughts in his mind.

JK takes a few unsteady steps backwards, tripping over his own feet to get away from the simple structure that’s causing so many confusing and conflicting feelings to crowd into his mind.

Just as he’s about to turn and hurry in the opposite direction, there’s a sound cutting through the rustling leaves and singing bluebirds.

He freezes, his blood curdling at the agonized scream that fills the forest and sucks the air from his lungs.

All at once, the green silky leaves and blue sky are ripped away and he’s back in the seventh circle.

JK slowly turns to face the direction he came from.

The direction where he left you to so easily be caught and tortured until you no longer had that little flame of hope he had always hated to see in you despite his desperate attempts to squash it.

_________________________

You stare at the stone floor under you that’s illuminated with a pale red light creeping in from the crack in the corner of the cell.

Every few seconds another ruby droplet falls from your skin and lands on the ground.

Your shoulders have long since been pulled out of place. The tops of your feet rest against the cold floor, unable to bear any weight to ease the pain in your shoulders.

All you can do is continue to count the drips that never fail to fall in the same place, joining the ever growing puddle.

You know they are going to come back in soon and continue where they left off.

Please give me strength.

You blink slowly, almost losing count of the next drop of your blood splashing into the little pool.

The sound of the cell door flying open makes you flinch a little, but you glance in the direction of it anyway.

You don’t see Sav or Undidis coming in to finish the job as you expected.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of JK being brought into the cell, his arms held roughly by two mangled demons that don’t even try to contain the cackles bubbling from their vile throats.

Terror takes root in your heart when you think he’s been caught and is to be punished in front of you. Only seconds pass before you realize what it is you’re actually seeing.

It isn’t JK.

It’s Jungkook.

You watch in mounting horror as they drag him to the center of the cell.

As far as you can tell, you are no longer chained there. Instead, you are against the wall and watching as they clamp the chains onto his wrists.

“Jungkook?”

The name passes your lips in a breathless whisper, full of horror and confusion.

None of them act as though they’ve heard you, or have seen you at all for that matter. How could they? You are witnessing a moment that has already come to pass.

All you can do is stand there and stare. Your legs will not move as you tell them to, it’s like you’re frozen.

Jungkook’s head hangs low, not looking the demons in the eye as they shriek and hurl vile profanities at him.

A horrible scream rips itself from your throat when without warning they begin to beat and tear at him viciously. Even as you wail in desperation for them to stop, none of them react to your presence.

You can’t even cover your eyes to avoid seeing it.

It feels like it lasts forever until they’re finally stepping away and you can see his beaten and bruised form hanging there numbly, clothes torn and bloody cuts littering his skin.

There isn’t a single sign of pain on his face, it’s as if he is incapable of feeling.

The demon with bulging eyes and no nose laughs maniacally and turns to the other wretch in the room, “The fucker isn’t over the death of his little lover yet.”

Your heart rips in two.

The second demon that has mutilated moldy wings that are no more than stubs and half of its smile stitched with thick black thread, scoffs in twisted amusement, “Give him a few days and he won’t even remember her name.”

The two snort loudly to themselves before leaving the room, the cell door slamming shut behind them.

“Jungkook,” you whimper, still stuck by the wall and at least ten feet from him.

The faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the stone floor makes your heart bleed painfully.

His dirty cheeks covered in blood and grime soon have streaks running down them as silent tears fall.

He doesn’t move, not even when they eventually come in again and proceed to beat him without restraint.

The sobs falling from your lips never cease as you can’t tear your eyes away from it.

The bulging-eyed demon leans down close to where Jungkook’s head dips low, blood dripping from the prisoner’s mouth and nose.

“What was her name again?” The voice is sneering, mocking.

You hear his muttered reply even from where you sit by the wall.

“____.”

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

You don’t know how many times they came back, every visit bringing worse torment than the last.

Each time, they would ask the same question.

“What is her name?”

And each time, no matter how weak his voice became, he gave the same reply.

“____.”

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

The mangled demon with stubby wings lashed the whip angrily after Jungkook whispered your name for the hundredth time.

You couldn’t bear to see the pained grimace on your best friend’s face as the thin leather strap tore into his naked skin, nor could you stand to hear the gut-wrenching cries that came from him when he was all alone in the dark cell for hours; nothing to occupy his mind but the thought of you.

You’d screamed and pounded on the floor and thrown many fits, but he never saw you. All you could do was sit there and cry with him.

The worst were the times when you could hear him muttering to himself in the silence, talking and laughing breathlessly about flowers and clouds and boats and sweet honey rice cakes. He would whisper about bird songs and rings and sunlight dancing on fingertips.

The stories he told to the quiet to make sure he wouldn’t ever forget you.

“That’s it,” The bug-eyed demon snarled and turned to his companion to whisper something neither you nor Jungkook could hear.

Whatever it was, it prompted the other to unchain Jungkook less than gracefully, ignoring his pained cries at the change in position.

Then they both dragged him carelessly out of the cell.

The next few moments flashed in front of you; the horrible images showing what it was they were doing.

You saw Jungkook refuse to steal souls when ordered to, time and time again. You saw them drag him back to the cell and torture him until he couldn’t even scream anymore from losing his voice.

It continued like that for nearly a hundred years.

The time passed in a flash for you, but for Jungkook every moment felt like a millennia as they found new ways to wrench sounds of affliction from him each time he refused to do their bidding.

__________

“We’re breaking him.”

The demon in charge of the prisoners’ under the Chamber of Souls scoffed at the lesser creature in front of him.

“He doesn’t look broken to me.”

Jungkook kept his gaze on the floor, counting the tiny cracks running along through the ancient stone.

He didn’t even flinch when a rough hand gripped his chin harshly and pulled to make him look up at them.

“This girl you are so desperate to remember, tell me, what is her name?”

Jungkook blinked a few times but said nothing, his gaze cloudy and uncertain.

Dark chuckles echoed around the cell.

“See? I told you we-”

“Apple…”

Stunned silence fell over the dungeon at the name whispered brokenly, the screams of the other sinners fading into nothingness as the demons stood there and stared at their miserable prize.

“Get me the crank,” the general growled, “You know the one I speak of.”

Scurried footsteps faded into the hall as Jungkook lowered his gaze back to the ground.

------

The breath trickled from Jungkook’s lungs as he hung in the cell, his shoulders bruised from where they dislocated again each time he was brought back and rechained.

He blinked slowly, watching the blood drip from him and onto the floor with a tiny splatter.

The cell door creaked loudly but he didn’t move.

Heavy footsteps echoed around the cell as the newcomer approached.

Jungkook said nothing as he was unchained and dragged out of the dungeon.

He said nothing as they brought him to a dark forest where a boy was summoning demons to make a deal with.

He couldn’t even stand on his own, so he crumpled to the ground when they let him go.

Jungkook stared at the young teen eagerly bundling the herbs he would soon toss into the fire.

When asked once more if he would agree to deal with humans, with this boy, he nodded his head slowly in defeat.

As they chained Jungkook back up in his cell, he stared ahead numbly, his body, mind, and will beyond the point of broken.

The next time the demons came in and tortured him while laughing at his agony, he didn’t hold back the screams that were ripped from him.

As Jungkook tried desperately to grasp any form of a thought in his mind, the demon general that just dealt out his torment leaned down and looked him in the eye.

“So you’ve finally agreed to work for him, hm? This will stop then, after you answer one last question.”

Jungkook stared at him blankly, sweat and blood dripping down his face.

“What is her name?”

The demon watched the broken young man blink a few times then look at him in exhausted confusion before whispering weakly due to the suffering endured.

“Who?”

__________

As the ice cold cell once again surrounds you, a grief-stricken sob breaks from your lungs and you begin to weep loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls.

The excruciating pain in your body is no longer what hurts the most. Knowing everything that he went through for so long before breaking under the agony, is more painful than any physical torture they can bring upon you.

You had asked for strength, and in seeing his torment, you got it.

There was nothing that they could do to break you now, not if it meant you giving in would result in his eternal damnation and suffering.

Your heart hurts so deeply you’re not sure it will ever be whole again. The only relief would be if it were to stop beating altogether.

As tears of devastation drip down your sore cheeks, there’s suddenly a warmth that envelops you.

Opening your eyes slowly, you realize you are no longer chained up, but lying on the hard floor of the cell. After a moment of staring at the cell door in confusion, you realize there’s something soft under your head.

Turning ever so slowly, you blink up at the person sitting on the filthy ground of the dungeon whose lap you’re lying on, the entirety of them emits a warm glow.

Your eyes are squinted from the harsh light as you back up a little and raise a hand to wipe at the tears on your face.

When the light fades away, your gaze meets deep brown eyes flecked with gold and full of a love like no other.

A small gasp escapes you and you instantly back away so you can bow low to the ground, forehead touching the frigid concrete.

A gentle touch on your shoulder encourages you to lift your head again.

“I-” your voice cracks and you clear your throat before whispering again, eyes full of unshed tears, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

A beautiful smile graces your visitor’s lips as He looks at you tenderly.

“No, child.”

The sound of His deep voice that resonates a soothing regalness fills your ears and the tears instantly creep over the edge and pour down your cheeks.

You move to bow again, laying your head on the ground at His feet while you weep.

“Come to me, ____.”

Not wasting a second, you lift your head and shuffle towards Him. There isn’t a single hesitation before you fall into His open arms, letting yourself be cradled closely.

You bury your nose into the beige tunic He wears, breathing in the smell of wild flowers and crystal rain before another round of sobbing ensues.

Strong hands caress the top of your head and shoulders.

“Tell me everything,” He whispers gently, voice full of warmth and comfort.

Even as you bawl messily, you let everything out. Everything that has happened since you crossed into Hell, every moment of fear for the one you came to save; fear that he would not choose to listen. How he left you alone after you tried to remind him of who he once was. You tell Him of all the horrible things the demons did to you and how wretched it was to see what your best friend had gone through.

You are never interrupted, fully encouraged to say anything and everything that has weighed you down and how you feel as though all of this has been for nothing.

When you have finally exhausted yourself and cried until no more tears will come, you feel something else.

An agony so deep and so visceral that you feel what you have endured up till this pales in comparison.

You lift your gaze to see tears pouring down His cheeks.

In your mind you see all of the souls throughout Hell and on Earth that are yet to come to this vile place, the horrid grief that strikes your heart is unbearable.

You see Jungkook being beaten unforgivingly, then you see him prowling the Earth for souls to ruin, to share in his misery. The boy that was once full of so much life and kindness and love was gone, replaced with something so wicked and so full of hate that you barely recognize him.

As you watch the souls choose to fall across the world, the sound of His ethereal voice breaks through the fog and heartbreak.

“No suffering united with Mine will ever be wasted.”

When your vision clears and you once again see the deep sadness in His eyes, you lurch forward and wrap your arms around Him; if only to try and ease the pain of loss He endures every moment.

A gentle hand touches your torn wings and a comfort sweeps over you. No words are needed as you feel a new strength surge through you briefly before the exhaustion once again takes hold.

You breathe shakily as you try to regain yourself, knowing that if you asked, you would be taken from here. But you will not give up.

Nagging little worries are still running through your mind though; What if JK refuses to listen and wants nothing to do with you anymore?

Despite how angry he was when he left you, there was a flicker of hope that remained deep inside, that he would come back. You’re ashamed to admit that now you’re afraid he’ll actually leave you here to rot and continue with his wretched duties.

“Do not be afraid.”

Nodding, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply.

When you open them again, the room is empty, the sound of you blowing out your breath the only thing you hear.

Your hands are once again chained above you, pulling your shoulders out of place slowly.

A loud clang rings out as the metal bars of the cell are flung open then the pitter pattering of bare feet is heard, nasty chuckles not far behind.

Your limited vision is taken from you completely when slimy hands wrap a rough cloth around your eyes.

Do not be afraid.

____________________________

JK gulps, his dry throat making it hard to swallow.

He’s standing in the seventh circle and looking down the path he walked to get here; the path that leads back to you.

The one that deceived him.

You preached about being honest and yet you lied to him about the reality of who you are. Of what you are.

Granted, if he knew at the beginning, he wouldn’t have given you so much as a second to talk before unleashing his pent up rage against your kind.

And yet.

Something is pulling at him, urging him to go back.

Maybe it’s the curiosity of wanting to know why you came here, why you did what you did.

Or maybe it’s something else.

“Fuck.”

If he goes back…he will pay for it for the rest of eternity.

…

JK closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

After a few moments, he opens them again and starts walking back down the path.

_______

When he gets to the barren wasteland and sees the smaller mountain by itself in the middle of it, his stomach turns.

It might not have been you.

It could’ve been any sinner at the hands of his fellow demons. He’s heard many sounds of torment in his time.

But never has one struck him as that one did.

The demon shakes his head and starts walking again, eyes focused on the lone mountain in the distance.

You probably won’t even be there, you must have gone to get the Flame yourself and just wanted to scare him off. That has to be it. You wanted him to leave, so that you could continue on your own and not have to live up to your end of the deal.

The explanation makes perfect sense and he’s almost angry for a minute that he fell for it. But the pit in his stomach leads him to believe otherwise.

As he walks up to the mountain, the snake vines becoming clearer with each step, something else makes him freeze.

The echo of someone crying; horrible gut-wrenching anguish falling from their lips.

His jaw clenches at the sound when it becomes obvious who it is.

It makes no sense to him why he’s suddenly filled with an uncontrollable rage at the thought of someone hurting you.

JK grabs the snake wrapped around the handle of the back door you two went in and tears it off, tossing it to the ground and throwing the door open before stalking down the dark hall.

He doesn’t stop until he gets to the Chamber of Souls, where he halts briefly when he sees the shattered glass on the floor, a stone lying haphazardly in the midst of it. The darkened souls where the glass used to be continue to float there, undisturbed.

JK looks around but sees no one. The only other indication that something happened here is the ghostly feeling of past terror still clinging to the air.

He turns his head and sees the alcove. Without hesitation, the demon walks over to it and yanks it open, proceeding to walk down the stairs and into the thick blackness.

The high-pitched screams coming from each cell are enough to disorient anyone, but JK continues to walk down the hall, unfazed.

He only stops when someone going the opposite direction runs into him and stumbles back in surprise. JK raises a brow, having not moved a centimeter at the collision.

The short beady-eyed demon in front of him- whose name escaped JK for a moment but he quickly remembers it as Ekel- snarls to cover up his startlement, “Aren’t you meant to be getting punished for not meeting the quota?”

“Where is she?”

Ekel cackles, but it’s drowned out by the tortured howls around them.

“Are you serious? You’re the one that sent her here and now you’re here to rescue her? I wonder what the punishment is for a demon letting an angel go,” he muses in wicked delight at the thought.

The black-haired demon leans down to get level with him, snatching his wrist so fast Ekel doesn’t have a moment to think and squeezing it until there’s the sound of bones cracking and the miserable twerp is squealing.

JK drags him closer, not letting up on the grip he has as he whispers in his ear, “I wonder what I’ll do to you when I catch you again with plenty of time on my hands. You do know the ranks here, don’t you?”

He gets no response but silence, so he keeps going.

“I will wrench every single cry out of you that I can and I will not stop until you are unrecognizable to even yourself. Tell me where she is.”

Ekel gulps, then cries out again when JK pinches his wrist harder, “She’s at the end of the hall! But I- I didn’t do anything to her, it was Sav and Undidis, who don’t do well with their prizes being messed with. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he spits.

JK narrows his eyes at the lower demon, “Spread this to anyone and I will rip you to shreds. Do you understand?”

Ekel nods, then growls in pain when his wrist is freed.

Before he can move to get away, JK stops him with a warning grip on the arm, “And if you do happen to blab, be sure to tell Sav that if he ever shows up in front of me, he will wish he never came to exist.”

When he’s released, Ekel doesn’t hesitate to run away down the corridor, getting as far from his superior as he can.

JK straightens and stalks down to the end of the hall.

To the left, the cell is empty.

When he turns to the right, it feels like a rock is lodged into his throat at the sight that meets him.

He brushes a hand over the giant padlock and it clatters to the ground in several pieces, then he pushes the barred door open, the loud squeak echoing off the walls.

You don’t flinch at the sound.

As he steps into the cell, the putrid smell of every second of torture dealt throughout time here hits his nose and he grimaces. The metallic scent of blood is thick in the air.

The closer he gets to your form hanging in the middle of the cell, he realizes that you are not conscious.

His eyes drag over you slowly, taking in the horror you’ve been put through since he left you. Since he delivered you right into their eager hands.

The simple white dress you wore when first coming here is in shreds; your body is practically naked and covered in deep gashes from all sorts of cruel instruments. There’s a ratty brown piece of cloth tied over your eyes as a makeshift blindfold to keep you from seeing what was coming next, to heighten the sense of pain when your vision was impaired.

Your wrists are chained above you; keeping you high enough so that your feet touch the floor but are unable to hold any weight, especially since the untold violence wrought on you has left you incapable of doing anything but hanging in defeat as your shoulders are pulled out of place from the pressure.

The dainty wings on your back that were once white are now covered in bright red blood and torn through in several places. The bottom half of your left wing is missing entirely.

JK reaches a hand out to carefully brush the hair from your dirty face.

“Apple,” he whispers, unsure what else to call you.

You don’t respond.

The demon swallows thickly, then he moves a hand behind your head to untie the blindfold. It falls to the floor and he’s met with the bruises and cuts littered along your cheeks and dark circles coated in flakey blood under your eyes. He puts an arm around your waist, holding you against him, then reaches up to touch the rusted cuffs holding you captive. They turn to dust instantly, the weight of your limp body is immediately supported by his hold as you let out a quiet moan at the pain in your shoulders from changing positions.

He lowers you to the ground slowly, lying you on your right side as gently as he can.

The minute he has you safely on the floor, JK brings his hand down to your ankles and rids you of the shackles there before reaching behind you and doing the same to the iron binds around your mutilated wings.

He grimaces at the sight of blood still oozing from the left wing that was cut in half. Then he forces himself not to linger on all the injuries across your once soft skin as he looks back at your face.

You’ve made no indication that you know it’s him or that anyone is with you at all.

JK leans over and moves the hair from your face, voice getting caught in his throat before he clears it and tries again.

“Apple.”

Your face scrunches a little in pain, then you slowly blink your eyes open to see a blurry face in front of you.

He hushes you quietly when you flinch and close your eyes, “It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

You don’t open your eyes but he sees a small tear slide down your cheek.

“Demons don’t make promises,” the soft whisper of your voice breaks, “Only deals.”

His eyes drift over your bloody face, the silence following your words is deafening.

After a moment, he takes a shaky breath in and blows it out.

“They won’t be gone long, I need to get you out of here.”

At your lack of response he gently touches your cheek, only to find that you’ve lost consciousness again.

JK sighs softly, then he places a hand on each of your shoulders where the skin is discolored. At his touch, the distorted joints move back into place, but the bruising doesn’t go away. He leans back to pull the silk top shirt off of himself, leaving only the short sleeved one on. He ever so gently drapes the smooth black fabric over your front, protecting the sake of your modesty best as he can.

Then he puts his arms underneath you and stands, effortlessly picking you up and cradling you in his hold before turning and walking out of the prison cell.

He walks all the way down the hall and up the stairs without stopping.

Your wings hang loosely as he goes, still bleeding. They leave a trail of splattered scarlet drops behind the two of you.

When he steps out of the mountain and into the red light, he sees your eyes scrunch unconsciously due to the lack of anything other than darkness for a while. You move your head to the side a little to hide in his chest and block the painful brightness.

He adjusts you in his arms before starting on the long trek ahead.

___________________

You walked along the ancient stone pavement that curved around a particularly puffy cloud. When you rounded the cloud, you could see marble pavilions covered in green ivy and ivory flowers just ahead.

“Well if it isn’t the newest treasure! Hi ____!”

“Oh, hello Leon!” You smiled and waved at the angel that flew up to you excitedly. You had met him shortly after arriving and he was as friendly as could be.

“Where are you off to?”

“Imelda has called me to speak with them.”

Leon smiled comfortingly, “This is about Jungkook, isn’t it?”

“I’m guessing so,” you whispered, a little on edge to find out what exactly happened after your death. It hadn’t even been a day since you arrived, which meant it had still only been three days after your death on Earth.

The angel patted your shoulder, changing the subject a bit to calm you.

“You’d get there faster if you flew!”

You laughed nervously and glanced back at the slender wings resting behind you that matched his own apart from his being larger.

As a child, you always dreamt of flying with the clouds and the birds. It suddenly seemed a bit daunting, especially seeing all the other angels flying to and fro with an elegance and grace unmatched. The one time you tried earlier you had crashed right into one of the honeysuckle bushes and had to get help from a passing angel to get out.

Thankfully they were the only one to see you. It also helped a bit that angels are not like people and have no reason to mock.

Leon could tell by the look on your face what you were thinking.

“____.”

You looked back at him.

“Imelda would not have asked you to make the choice if you were not meant to. You belong here, you know that right?”

A genuine smile broke out on your face and you nodded.

As worried as you were about messing up, there was never a place you felt more at home. There was no doubt in your mind or heart that this place was where you would always belong. You couldn’t wait to share it with your best friend.

“Good!” The pretty angel giggled and patted you on the head sweetly, “I’ll see you around! You’ve got this.”

You waved as he flew away; looking completely natural among the clouds lined with a slight hint of silver and gold.

Of course, Leon had been an angel since the beginning, he could never look out of place.

You walked up the steps to the third pavilion to see your guardian angel Imelda, who had told you her name shortly after you came through the gates. She was speaking with Him.

Imelda was sitting on one of the many pillows strewn across the shimmering floor, adorned in her usual delicately armored gown, the sword safe at her side.

He sat on one of the rose gold benches lined with small white flowers, your guardian angel at His feet. Golden and purple robes flowed around Him, white hair and a white beard making His striking violet eyes flecked with silver stand out even more than usual.

Bringing yourself to a low genuflect, you bowed your head respectfully.

When you straightened, you were met with smiling eyes that held an ancient wisdom and a wonderful warmth filled you to the brim.

“____.”

You inclined your head again.

“We have much to discuss, I am afraid it is not positive in nature.” His voice was deep, the oceans couldn't even dream to compare.

You nodded, already having assumed as much.

He gestured a hand out for you to take a seat amongst the pillows so that you would be comfortable rather than standing for long.

Quickly you moved to a plush pink pillow, a little too quickly you realized, when it slid a bit with you on it and a small yelp left your lips in surprise.

Fond chuckles floated from the two you came to meet and you felt your cheeks burn. It was nice to make someone laugh when they were not harboring any malicious intent towards you.

The air turned serious soon after, the news that was to be shared hanging in the air.

“It’s about Jungkook…?” You whispered.

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes and gulped, “He’s taken my death even worse than I thought…hasn’t he?”

The silence that stretched on made a pit form in your stomach before you glanced up to look at them. Of course, you couldn’t be happier after death, you would never ever want to go back to that place, as beautiful as Earth was on its own, it couldn’t compare. You knew though, that poor Jungkook would not be feeling the same right then.

He was opening His mouth to speak when there was a horrible sound of sobbing that ripped through the air.

A sound of such anguish was not normal here, it made the hairs stand up on your arms as you looked around to locate the source.

It was coming from an angel, a guardian by the look of his baby blue wings and tunic. All of the guardians and the unborn children were a different color. The other angels, including you, were white; apart from a select few.

But why was this guardian angel crying?

“Abba!”

The angel boy flew into the pavilion and landed with a harsh crash to the marble floor at His feet.

“Nehemiah.”

You watched in confusion and a deep sadness as the angel who He called by name began to sob harder and clutch at His robes while sobbing into His knee. It looked like a child weeping on their parent’s lap after waking from a night terror.

Nehemiah looked no older than fifteen; his chin-length wavy blonde hair contributing to making him look quite youthful despite all the ages of the universe he had witnessed thus far.

“Abba! I- I lost him!” Nehemiah choked on another sob, his pretty face covered in shiny tears and pale cheeks unnaturally blotchy as he hugged His knee.

You looked at Imelda, who was holding back tears of her own as she watched Him comfort the weeping angel.

“You did well, Nehemiah. You did well.”

You could hear His deep soothing voice through the fog of horror beginning to cloud your mind.

When Imelda looked at you, you could see it in her eyes.

You stood, chest rising and falling in short panicky breaths.

Nehemiah turned at the movement and saw you, a quick flash of recognition in his eyes, then he quickly broke down into more gut-wrenching sobs. You had never, never in all your life on Earth, heard the sound of such heartbreak.

Your eyes drifted to Him and you saw a tear falling down His soft cheek.

“No,” you mumbled, shaking your head slowly, “No.”

It was a desperate plea for them to tell you that it was not what you feared.

You died. You were always meant to be the one that died too young. Jungkook was alive. He was down there and needed you to go soothe him, that’s all. That’s why they brought you here, to tell you he was in need of comfort and that you could give it to him.

But when you looked at the blue angel once again, you knew it wasn’t true.

If everything was okay, he would not be here without him…

You walked over and fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s guardian angel and holding him tight. He was shaking like a leaf as he hugged you back just as tight, “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed mournfully.

You stroked his hair softly with shaking hands, silent tears falling down your face.

“What do you mean, he made a deal?”

Your voice was quiet, eyes red and tender from crying.

Imelda was the only one still with you in the pavilion.

“In exchange for your health, Jungkook summoned a demon…he was visited by Lucifer himself.”

You knew of who she spoke.

After coming here, everything became clear. The history of the angels and demons, of the universe itself; it all became known to you.

“When?” Your voice broke in disbelief. You knew nothing of this summoning or this deal making that he had done.

Then it suddenly hit you.

“The Flame of Immortality…he wanted it,” you whispered in horror, “When he left after we were married. That’s where he went, isn’t it?”

Imelda nodded solemnly, “That is what he left for, it is not what he got.”

“But- but how? Why was it allowed to happen, why-”

“Nehemiah did the best he could,” Imelda’s voice was thick with grief, “His first choice was to love Jungkook, as mine was to love you. He spent Jungkook’s entire existence protecting him and comforting him, even during the deal. He urged Jungkook not to do it, but he was not heeded. There was only so much he could do when Jungkook had a choice.”

Tears fell down your cheeks.

“Why didn’t he come to me?” You choked on your next breath, a hand moving to your chest in an effort to keep the air going in and out, “Why didn’t he come to me and tell me everything?”

“If he had…there was certainly something we would’ve been able to do. If he wanted help, we would have freely given even more of it than we already were. Jungkook was too far into despair and wanted what seemed to be the easy answer, he didn’t want to listen to Nehemiah’s warnings. He gave his life for you, but not in the way it should’ve ever been. Nehemiah stood by him, though, even in his last moments.”

“Where is he?” Your voice shook.

“Jungkook died three days after you. He has been taken to Hell to uphold his end of the bargain.”

You closed your eyes slowly, hands trembling.

“How do we get him back?” You choked out.

When she said nothing, you looked at her.

“Imelda, please. I know nothing is impossible for Him. Tell me how we can save Jungkook.”

“We can do nothing right now-”

“But-”

“Jungkook made a choice, he made a deal. But he was tricked into it without much knowledge and in the desire to do good for someone he loved. Lucifer cannot win when love and self-sacrifice is involved. He wants nothing to do with it.”

Your guardian angel took your hands and pulled you up from the pillow you were still sitting on.

“For that reason alone, the deal can be revoked. But it comes at the highest price and only at a certain time.”

“When? When can I save him? I will go now,” you began to cry harder, “I will go and I will take him from there, please tell me how Imelda.”

Her green eyes glistened with tears.

“The deal can only be broken for a condemned soul every five hundred years.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest and you choked back a sob.

“He made a deal with the Devil, ____. A deal that would have sealed his eternal damnation had it been for his own selfishness. We are lucky he made it out of unconditional love for you, we are lucky that we can save him.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes frantically to clear them of the never-ending deluge.

“Then when the time comes, I will go to Hell and I will save him,” your voice shook, “What is the price? Whatever it is, I will pay it. I’m not afraid.”

A single tear fell from Imelda’s eye as she looked down at you, a hidden pain in her gaze.

“The same price that Jungkook paid,” she whispered, “A life for a life.”

_________________________________________

read 15b HERE

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