#⚠️️ Graphic Description ⚠️️

[marvelsswansong]

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

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two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

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three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

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four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

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five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

[rafescvntyclubgf]

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝚂𝟸!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @starkeyisthelastname

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𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

Rafe and the Reader are both from Kildare Island. They both attend the same college. *Kildare Island cartographers, this is not accurate. I am aware 💕*

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Praise kink, ownership kink, softboyfriend!rafe, pet names, Ward is a dick, verbal abuse, physical abuse, swearing, drinking, drinking and driving, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, gore, smut, cum play, cum tasting, mask kink, major character death, unprotected p in v, choking, rough sex

Reader’s POV:

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty girl?” Rafe mumbles as he leans into your neck, kissing you gently, his large arm wrapped around you. You rest your hand on his thigh, letting him pull you against his broad frame as you do your best to calm down.

There was a list of things, really; it’s the night of The Purge, after all. The terror behind it was never easy to think about. Then, to top it all off, your very first dinner at the Cameron’s place. Somehow, you found yourself more nervous about the latter. Taking a deep breath, you melted against him, your lips finding his for a soft kiss. “Nothing, baby. Just a little anxious.” You whispered against his mouth. Rafe draws the same breath, not wanting to wave off your worry.

This was always a difficult night; the houses and residents of Figure 8 always seemed to get hit the hardest. The hatred, violence, and aggression The Cut held inside for this side of the island were clear, rightfully so—vandalism, theft, arson, beatings, murder; complete and utter chaos. But the Kooks weren't innocent either; they never are. Their crimes on Purge Night seemed to go unnoticed, brushed under the rug, their faces hidden under satirical masks. By the morning, when everyone pulled themselves out of their safe rooms, the manicured streets would be torn to shreds. The Kooks would be in “mourning” for the rest of the year, attending fundraiser after fundraiser, gala after gala, to return their neighborhoods to how they once were.

“You’re gonna be alright, princess. You have your safe room. We have ours. We can talk on the phone all night. Aight? I’m gonna look after Rose and Wheezie; your dad promised me that you’d be safe. It’ll be just like any other night.”

“I wish we could’ve stayed on campus,” your voice whispered as you lifted your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes burned from the heat of the tears threatening to spill down yours cheeks.

“That campus is gonna go to shit, princess. Always does. Tons of kids with rage to spare. We’re safer here.” You look up at the TV screen, Rafe’s words affirmed as they showed CCTV footage from the year before, your college campus flickering across the screen. It looked like a war zone… Rafe was right. The both of you were safer here.

“Reports had shown last year’s Purge had been the most successful to date, with the most murders committed.”

The journalist speaks with pride as she delivers the news. You could feel the chills run down your body, goosebumps flaring across your bare thighs. Rafe, of course, took notice of this, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead. “We’re graduatin’ next year. We’ll have a place of our own, just you and me,” He assured, reminding you of that sweet truth.

“Just you and me,” You echoed as you matched his pretty blue eyes. Wheezie’s phone buzzes, making you match her gaze across the living room. She’s an eavesdropper, lovingly so, her mood shift evident after listening your conversation with Rafe, knowing that it might just be Rose, Ward, and herself next year. Her protector, gone. “You too, of course, Wheez,” you smiled at her. She purses her lips, fluttering her lashes, quickly hurrying herself back to having her face buried in her phone to hide her emotion.

"Red or white?" Rose asked sweetly, her hands resting on a wine glass as she waited for your reply.

"Red wine, please." You smiled. “Thank you.”

"Rafe, would you like red?" She asked, earning a nod in reply from him. Rafe glanced over his shoulder, watching his stepmom run four glasses of wine. "Dinner will be ready in five.” She announced.

You gave her a polite smile and nod, nerves bubbling— this dinner was a staple in the Cameron house. It was like Thanksgiving in July: immaculate, decadent, excessive. A love letter to the Pogues, to give them just one more reason to hate the Kooks before the sirens sounded.

“Who knows, maybe next year we can Purge together,” Rafe whispers against your ear. The suggestion alone made your stomach fall. The unseriousness in his tone evident as he razzes you for shock value. But he’s joking… right? You let out a small breath when you heard his laugh, his arm gripping you tighter. “M’kidding, pretty.” He chuckled, amused by your reaction.

The jingle of a collar pulled your thoughts away as Rafe’s dog, Penny, rounded the corner and made her way over with a jump onto the couch. The large golden retriever snuggled next to you as she always did, making you smile softly at the momentary distraction. Rafe reached down, scratching her head with his grin. “Think Pen would rather spend the night with you than me, sweetheart,” he coos as he looks at her, making the sweet girl wag her tail. “Traitor.”

You looked at her, touching her soft fur before speaking. “Next year, it’ll be you, Rafey, me, and Wheez,” you speak to her sweetly as you scratch her head.

“That’s right,” Rafe hums happily.

"Dinner's ready,” Rose calls from the kitchen. Rafe weaves his larger hand in yours, leading you toward the table. Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out your chair and waited for you to take your seat before pushing it in. It was the sound of heavy footsteps that made the both of you glance up, seeing the patriarch himself. Ward Cameron. Rafe looks over his plate as he sits down, praising Rose and avoiding eye contact with his father as the older man sits across from him.

"So Alexis, how is school going for you?" Ward asked, causing Rose and Wheezie’s conversation to hush as he mentioned Rafe’s ex-girlfriend, Alexis Thornton's name, not yours. You were taken aback a little, but tried not to show it on your face. You didn’t know how to respond but did your best to save yourself the embarrassment.

"Umm... It's going great. Thank you." You said quietly, deciding to let it go.

"Y/n, I’ve actually been thinking about going there too," Wheezie emphasized your name with a sugary, sweet smile. “You know, when the time comes,” she adds casually, peering out of the corner of her eye at Ward as she swirled some pasta on her fork. She was waiting for her father to correct his mistake, but to her surprise, nothing came.

"Really? That’s amazing, Wheez. You should come out for a visit soon, and I can show you all our favorite spots.” You told her, picking up your wine glass to take a small sip. That’s when you heard Ward scoff, making you look in his direction. “She’s a child,” Ward rasped, followed by a mocking laugh. ”What are you gonna do? Take her to a bar?” His words were cold underneath a fake smile.

The confused look on your face said it all as you replied to him. “Obviously not,” You laugh him off, taking a similar tone towards him. Did he really think you’d take a 13-year-old to a bar? “There are some great restaurants, fun coffee shops, and a few cute little boutiques I’d love to take you to.” You said, focusing your attention back over on Wheezie.

Her smile brightened at your words, giving you an excited nod to her head. You turn your focus back to the head of the table, watching as Ward throws back the rest of his first glass of wine. It vibrated against the table as he slammed it down, gesturing to Rose with his other hand. As if he needed another. “Well, I’m hopin’ your grades are better than his,” Ward mumbled, cutting off Rose’s pour, three fingers from the top of the glass.

“I have good grades, but I’m not sure what you mean by that. Rafe’s grades are great.” You told him, your hand squeezing your boyfriend’s leg supportively under the table. You watched as Ward raised an eyebrow, his lips pursing around the wine glass before he set it down.

“He’s not on Academic Probation anymore? How many chapters did I miss?” Ward snickered cruelly as he matched Rafe’s eyes and yours. His words were harsh and cutting as he tried his best to embarrass his son in front of everyone. If one were to ask if Ward had any regrets, the only one he had would be not having a bigger audience to humiliate his eldest child.

"Uh, no. Not since the first year,” Rafe responded, his voice breaking slightly with anger as he spoke up. His blue irises flashed darker, meeting his father’s gaze as the man gave him a smirk. ”Real proud of you, son. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Ward drawled out in a thick southern accent laced with nothing but hate.

“You and your family gonna be alright tonight? Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut,” Ward asks as he slides his spoon across his tongue to cover the slight grin he’s holding back, taking a bite of crème brûlée. Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut… He means that in more ways than one— physically close, just a bay separating the two. Financially close as well, new money and a new family business, skirting the line between Kook and Pogue; still enough coin to pay for a membership at the Island Club.

Rafe knew precisely what he meant, Ward’s wicked double-entendre conjuring up fury. Calling you the wrong name was the first thing that had pissed him off; now his father was being rude to you just for the hell of it, and that was a whole other thing on its own. It was only a matter of time before he absolutely lost it.

"So, Alexis, what’s your brother up to these days-”

"Jesus Christ, Dad... Her name is y/n..." Rafe snapped, banging his giant fists against the table, the delicate china clattering and clanging on the flat surface. Ward chuckled at his son’s outburst, knowing he was the reason for it.

"Sorry, son. I can't keep all your girlfriends straight," He laughed before turning to you. "You don't mind if I just call you Alexis? Do you, sweetheart?" He slurs, a sly smirk on his lips.

"I do.” You reply quietly, trying your best not to cry from humiliation. He was just being an ass, but everyone's eyes on you were making you very uneasy. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, your appetite suddenly gone. Rafe took one look at you and shook his head.

"Alright... I think we are good. Are you good, sweetheart?" Rafe asked, already knowing the answer. He stood up abruptly, reaching for your hand. His other rips the bottle of wine off the table and passes it to you before snagging the crème brûlée as Ward reaches for seconds.

"M’takin’ her home and I’m leavin’ in the mornin’,” Rafe spat. “By the way, Dad, why don’t you stop drinkin’? Huh? You’re not gonna be good for shit if I gotta protect your ass too, fuckin’ pussy.” Ward was seething, wasting no time in grabbing Rafe by the shirt, pulling him down to meet his cold, dead eyes.

“The hell did you just call me, boy?” His voice was low as he twisted the fabric tighter in his hand.

“Called you a fuckin’ pussy,” Rafe responded with a level tone, not letting his nerves get the best of him. Ward’s face fell as he let him go, only to push him back towards the wall—Rafe bumped into the decorative table, sending one of Rose’s ornate vases crashing to the floor.

Rafe took a long drink from the wine bottle, just waiting for another storm of insults that would surely fly from Ward’s mouth. The vase was shattered all over the hardwood, the table quiet as everyone felt the tension thick in the air. Taking a breath, the older man hung his head in exhaustion for his disappointment of a son. This was a regular occurrence for the tumultuous pair, and Rafe’s voice was eerily calm again when he turned to his stepmother.

“Thanks for dinner. I’ll clean that up when I get back,” Rafe mumbles, his head nodding over to messy ground. Rose, who didn’t want to set her husband or stepson off even more, just gave him a soft nod and a weak smile.

“Hurry back,” Wheezie blurts out, not wanting her older brother to be out after the sirens called. She was about to say something else when her father interrupted her.

“If you’re not back here in an hour, m’locking the damn gate, Rafe,” Ward warned. ”You know I have no problem lettin’ you stay out there all night.” He hissed. You gave Ward a look of disgust, unable to hide it at the lack of emotion he carried for Rafe. You saw his eyes quickly meet yours, watching his lip twitch slightly. His gaze softened, holding a tiny fraction of remorse from the fact you saw just how awful he treated his own blood.

Fifteen minutes to your house, fifteen minutes back, leaving you thirty minutes to spare. "Wine?" You asked sweetly, passing your boyfriend the bottle by its neck.

"Please. Definitely need it after that shit show.” He exhaled, wishing he had something stronger. He took a healthy swig of the red liquid, finishing the bottle with a tipsy laugh. “Oh shit.” He chuckled dryly, tossing it in the back of the truck as you glanced back at him, his cerulean eyes met yours in a glassy stare.

"Fuck, y/n, that was embarrassing," he pushed out as he drummed his blunt nails against the steering wheel. "I've been lookin‘ forward to you meetin’ them for a while, and - and my dad always finds a way to mess it up." He stammered. You scooped up a bite of the stolen crème brûlée, feeding him. Rafe groaned at the taste of the decadent dessert making you giggle, the sound easing his sour mood for a moment. “We will never be like that,” he sighed, tone serious as his striking blue eyes bored into you deeply.

“Never.”

You knew Rafe was running high on many emotions. All he ever wanted was his father’s approval; deep down, he knew he would never receive it. Though the moment was sad, hearing him talking about the future with you brought some sense of peace. You knew his parents couldn’t care less, and you could only hope and pray, that didn’t make him have any second thoughts about the two of you. The feeling of the spoon slipping from your hand pulled you from your thoughts as Rafe now had it to get another bite. “So ready for this night to be over with.”

You let out a sigh, looking down at your lap before back up to your handsome boyfriend. “Neither can I, baby. Neither can I���” You said, your nerves setting in all over again. Rafe could read you, deciding to lean in and place a kiss on your lips for reassurance. He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in close as his tongue played with yours. He was kissing you as if it would be the last time, but he would never utter those words out loud. Pulling back slowly, he rested his forehead against yours. “Drive home safe, Rafe.”

“Promise, princess,” he said, his voice vibrating against your mouth before kissing you once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Your voice is barely a whisper as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer than usual before getting out of his parked truck and heading to your house.

You look out your window, staring across the shimmering water of the bay. It’s quiet— calm. But that won’t last for long. Soon, both sides of the Island rise. The TV glows in your bedroom, illuminating the space around you as the news continues to run story after story from the years before, scaring some and inspiring most.

You wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, snuggling into your pillows as you wait for the announcement. Rafe hasn’t called yet or answered; I just hope he made it back to Tanneyhill okay.

“This is not a test.”

Your heart falls into your stomach; your body breaking out in a cold sweat as you hear those five words you’ve been waiting for. Your eyes shift away from the window as you take in the words on your screen.

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge, sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am. And, for the first time since its inception, no one has been granted special immunity from the Purge. No citizen or group will be exempt. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”

The siren blares making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight; the blood in your frozen body runs cold.

“May God be with you all.”

His eyes widen on yours, breaking away in disbelief, staring down at nothing but the handle of the blade. The knife was lodged deep in his stomach, your mind dizzy as Ward gasped for breath.

You never thought you’d be one to actually do it. The night was already dangerous, and here you were, back at the infamous Tannyhill amid the mist of chaos. It was your right, though, and he was why you were doing this in the first place. Seeing the way he could no longer spit those venomous out or give you a look of intimidation made you hold such power over him. This was giving you an indescribable high to see him almost silently pleading with you despite it being too late.

You were doing the world a favor, and oh my god, the gasp he let out made you realize this was really happening. Yanking the blade free, you watched as he stumbled back. Ward tripped over the hallway rug, his body falling onto the ground with a loud thud. The house was quiet except for the sounds of Ward fighting for air, his hands reaching out for anything to help pull him away from you.

He couldn’t survive. If he found out it was you, it would be over, everything… And that couldn’t happen.

Stepping towards him, you sank to your knees and looked into his eyes. The purple LED lights on your mask reflected in his reading glasses, his eyes behind it leaking with pathetic tears. Fucking pussy. You didn’t think you had it in you, lifting the knife above your head without any tremble to your hands.

“This is for Rafe.” You bring it down, stabbing him in the heart, sealing his fate. The strike was brutal, and you could swear you felt the tip of the sharp blade pierce into the hardwood floor. Blood covered the hall, the fight over as his body grew still beneath you. You waited, his chest no longer rising as you watched him lay there, now lifeless. Forcing the knife out, you took a deep breath and rolled your neck to release the tension of the night. The nerves, the anxiety, all of it put to rest as you rid the world of this evil man.

You and Rafe would never truly be happy if Ward was around to ruin every moment. You knew every family event or special occasion would be tarnished just like it was tonight. Not only that, but the cutting words, scarring digs, and emotional abuse he let his son suffer. You couldn’t stand to hear him or see him treat the man you loved this way anymore. That dinner earlier was the last time he got to make Rafe feel that way ever again.

Lifting up your mask, you let your emotions go as you laughed at his now vacant body. “Fuck you, Ward.” You spat, only to feel your heart skip a beat as the sound of a familiar collar jangled down the long hallway. Your stomach dropped, the realization that you had been in the house too long and caught the attention of Penny. If Ward had been scanning the house, there was no way that Rafe wasn’t doing the same thing. You could only hope he was in the safe room with Rose and Wheezie.

You rose to your feet, seeing the golden retriever trot towards you a little faster as she recognized your scent through the disguise. Leaning down, you carefully scratched her fury ear and whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Penny girl.”

The sound of a deep voice made that sinking feeling come back to your lower belly. “You hear somethin’, girl?” Rafe’s booming tone, not even trying to be quiet as his large shadow stands at the end of the hallway.

Fuck.

No… No…

You took two steps backward, clutching the knife in your shaky hand as he took two large strides forward. Turning around, you sprinted towards the door and downstairs. You ran past the living room, ignoring the thought that you had been snuggling there only a few hours earlier. His steps grew louder, and his voice echoed through the mansion as he yelled, “STOP!”

Your lungs were burning as you looked over your shoulders you tore out onto the trimmed front lawn. Your own boyfriend, on your heels, making you hold back a scream as you made a shot for the thick trees on the other side of the house. It offered you a place to hide and catch your breath as your rapid heartbeat rang through your ears. You found yourself crawling next to a tree, the pure darkness, your only hope of survival as you tried to stay out of sight. You tore off your mask, quieting your breathing as you hid with the palm of your blood soaked hand.

You listened to his heavy footsteps fading fast. You took a minute to think, knowing you couldn’t go back to the front of Tannyhill without being seen. The barn... You would wait it out there for the night to get the heat off of you and then find a way out. You’d clean up and come back to console Rafe. Making sure the lights on your mask were off, you tugged it back on your face and stood up.

The North Carolina night was warm, making you feel sticky as dirt and blood caked your skin. You made your way through the dark woods until the small white barn came into view. You looked at it, your mind racing with different scenarios. What if he called? What if he decided to leave and saw that your car was parked down the road? What if he finds you? Would he kill for what you did?

Slipping into the bar, you followed the beacon of light pouring down from above. Your feet creaked along the old rigid floor as you made your way over to the ladder. You climbed until you couldn’t, taking a small, tired huff. You felt a little better until you realized you had left your knife behind. If Rafe had come across that, it would have been over, and now it was just another thing that you would have to figure out later. If there was a later anyway…

You crawled over to the corner of the upstairs loft, looking down out of the small window. It was an eerie scene as your eyes studied the surroundings below: a couple of four-wheelers, a dirt bike, and two covered cars. You shivered, reaching for the tarp beside you, pulling it over to hide yourself, just in case.

CREAK.

Your eyes shot open, making your head peer out from behind the blue tarp. You froze in horror as Rafe stepped through the open door, his large silhouette and crystal eyes shining into the room. He took a breath before letting out a frustrated growl. “I KNOW YOU ARE IN HERE!” He screamed, the anger and sadness evident in his tone. You brought a hand to your mouth, eyes squeezing shut as his footsteps moved throughout the space.

You watched his every movement as he walked across the loft floor, getting closer to you. His heavy and erratic breathing filled the once-silent space making your heart race as he stepped close enough for you to catch something shiny. You let out a small gasp, seeing the same knife you’d used to kill his own father. The wood creaked underneath his weight as if he heard the noise you let out. You shut your eyes once more, pleading with him in your mind to just go away. You had to hold onto hope for the miracle that he would give up, and you could see him in the morning without having to explain this situation. That was if he would let you explain.

When you thought things were quiet enough to take a peek, you slowly opened your teary eyes only to meet the very ones of the man you loved. His hand wrapped around your throat before you said anything, his grip strong enough to lift you off your feet effortlessly. He squeezes, shoving you into the hard wall. You couldn’t die at the hands of your boyfriend. You weren’t ready, your voice coming out in a pitiful squeak as the tears flowed underneath your mask. “Please stop.”

His hand twists his hand in your hair, his eyes widening as he recognizes those silky strands. He immediately pulls the mask away from your face, his emotion changing. “Y/N?” He asked, looking at you as he calmed his breathing. You heard the knife drop to the ground with a clang before you listened to the sweet name he always called you. “Princess…”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, avoiding his gaze until you felt him cup your cheek. The pad of this thumb ran across your soft skin, which you instantly leaned into. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. You whimpered against him, the terror you had been feeling now washing away. You could feel him smile against your lips; a grin on his face as he pulled back to look down at you.

“You beat me to it.” He spoke in a hushed voice as he watched your eyebrows come together in confusion.

“I… I beat you to it?” You stuttered, earning a chuckle in response from Rafe.

He nodded with a hum as his hand reached up to run through your hair. “Mmhm.. I’m guessin’ you did this for me? That right?” He asked, his other hand holding up the mask you once had on. You looked at it, almost afraid to admit anything.

There was no lying to him, though; you let your head fall as you took a shaky breath. “Yes. I couldn’t stand the fact of him being here another day.” You said, meeting his eyes as carefully looked up at him.

Rafe studied you briefly before his raspy voice spoke out into the darkness. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while. Haven’t you?” He asked, watching as you nodded in silence.

“I have.” You whispered, still unsure if this was set up.

It was him murmuring ‘me too,’ his hands squeezing your hips that you knew he was being genuine. “You should have told me baby. We could have done it together. Huh?” He smirked, his fingertips coming to the button of your dark jeans. Something about you taking his father’s life for him so that he no longer had to deal with the pain and suffering the man caused him had him feral. He didn’t know you would be the one he caught; his family had a lot of enemies, after all. Knowing it was, you had him feeling an entirely different way.

He moved his hand from your pants, coming to his own crisp white shirt to pull off. His toned upper body gleamed under the moonlight shining from the window. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, your bloody manicured nails tracing over his broad chest and down to where you could pop the button of his pants open. You heard his breath hitch as you reached even further, giving his hard-on a squeeze. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you in for one last kiss before he turned you to face the wall. He pressed against you from behind, his hands yanking down your jeans and panties in one go. You step out of them, the heat growing more in your lower tummy.

“Co’mere.” He rasped, leading you to the tarp you had once been hiding under. He pulls you down with him, straddling his lap as he works to remove the thin shirt you wore. You reach down into his boxers to pull his hard length out, the fat head soon poking your drooling hole. You feel the burn as he stretches you out, your pretty cries echoing through the barn. You were so full of him, taking all of him as he glided into your soaked core.

“Holy fuck… Rafe!” You gasped, your nails digging into his chest as your head spun with pleasure and adrenaline. Even the way you felt after killing Ward felt nothing compared to the way Rafe made you feel. His eyes looked up at you as he worked you along his body, cock filling you up in the best way.

“You’re so perfect. Yeah? Don’t forget that. My goddamn girl, princess. Fuck. You’re mine.” His voice was like velvet as he reached between the two of you to rub your sweet little pearl in circles.

You were a mess, involuntary clenching around him as you rode him. He let out a groan, watching those pretty tits bounce each time you came down. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Oh my god, baby…” He grunted under the sounds of your skin slapping against his. You were high on all of this, euphoria running through you as you lifted yourself off of him just to come back down with a slam.

“Yeah? You like the way I feel wrapped around you?” You bit at him, taking one of your hands and wrapping it around his throat. You watched as his eyes rolled back while you squeezed, his head tilting back in pleasure. His thick digits on one hand continued the torture on your clit while the other grabbed one of your plush tits.

As much as Rafe loved for you to take control, he couldn’t help but reel you back by rolling you over to be on top. He slams back into you, watching your mouth fall at the sudden change in position. His long cock hits your sweet spot, making you arch your back off the tarp. “Hold still, princess.” He mumbled, gripping the back of your thighs to bring them higher. He spreads you open, nearly folding you in two as his toned hips thrust into you.

“Fuck Rafe!” You squeal, eyes looking at the space between you. The light illuminating through the small loft window reflected off his abs, flexing as he pounded into you. His thick cock shiny with arousal as it rammed into you.

“You know I gotta take charge. Can’t fucking help it when you got a pussy like this, sweetheart. Can you take a little more for me, baby?” He breathed out, watching as you nodded the best you could as you grew closer to your climax. “Mphff? You deserve it, baby. I swear you do.” Rafe says, hooking your legs over his shoulders and letting you take his pounding.

You clawed at him, whining, leaving your babbling mouth as you drew closer to exploding. The heat in your stomach was about to burst, and your thighs quivered. “M’gonna cum.” You mumbled out, your chest breaking out in a flush.

His rough fingers found your clit once more, bringing you to the edge as he rubbed it just enough for you to let go. Clutching at his broad shoulders, you cry out and let him bury his face in your neck as he relentlessly drilled into you. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in this pretty pussy.” He gritted out, his mouth constantly growing more filthy the closer he got.

“Need your cum inside me. Please give it to me.” You begged, breath still short as you were barely off your high.

“Yeah, Princess? You need it? Fuck, you need my cum?”

“Cum in my fucking pussy, Rafe.” His eyes rolled back at the sound of your voice. You felt this cock start to swell and throb inside of you, his groans vibrating off of you as heavy loads of warm spent filled your walls. You whimper softly, his head pulling back only to meet you for a kiss.

He took a few before slowly pulling out, his eyes heavy as he watched his seed slowly spill out of you. It was quite the sight and feeling to have came inside you for the first time on the same night you killed his father. He can’t help but travel his hand down, pushing the sticky liquid back into your swollen hole with a smile. “Fuck.. I love you.” His voice hoarse as he admired all of you.

You let out a quiet giggle, the feeling of being full of him making you satisfied. Grabbing his wrist you lifted his hand to your mouth, sucking on Rafe’s big fingers dripping with his cum and yours, before letting them go with a pop. “I love you too, baby.” You said softly.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” He asked, his facial expression turning more serious as if he needed reassurance.

Without any hesitation, you sat up and wrapped your hand around his bare bicep. “Anything.” You whispered, and you meant that.

A wicked grin spread across his face as soon as he heard that. He looked out at the still-dark sky and hummed in thought. “You know it’s still early. Wanna take the dirt bike and get out of here? I bet we can have some fun.” He said, glancing back at you.

“You have a mask?” You asked curiously. Were you and Rafe really about to go out and Purge? Reaching over to his discarded jeans, he pulled out a black ski mask from the back pocket. He ran a hand over his sweaty bangs, pushing them back to tug the material over his handsome face. His ocean eyes shined through, the same devilish smile on his face.

“What do you say, princess?”

Lily!!!!! You are such an amazing writer and friend. Thank you so much for writing with me 💕☺️🤭🩷 I will forever be a fan of your work. 🥹

[allbark-no-bite]

call it brotherhood (not love).

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.2k)

summary: jake meets his match in a soldier rather than a sailor. you’re a bit more war torn than he expected, but it’s okay because maybe he is too

warnings: 18+ smut, * graphic descriptions of injuries and death ⚠️

* if you are uncomfortable with this, please don’t read

author’s note: spoiler alert, i know this isn’t the Jake fic that you’ve all been wanting but i swear that one is in the works. i’m about to go back to school and wanted to get this out there for y’all :) (ps i apologize for the lazy ending)

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"At ease, gentlemen —And woman," Admiral Simpson adds after a moment, shooting an uncharacteristically apprehensive look in Phoenix's direction. Payback snorts at his hasty correction, and Jake is surprised when the admiral doesn't fix him with a nasty look.

If the man's cursory show of inclusion perturbs the female pilot, she doesn't show it, and instead she takes a seat with all the rest of them. Jake turns back towards the front of the ready room, sinking down into his chair just a bit, toothpick clenched between his teeth as he waits for the admiral to address them.

However routine, this training meeting was a bit out of left field, especially for a Sunday afternoon. The Dagger squad typically had one weekly, but it was usually led by Maverick and much more informal. That wasn't to say that seeing Beau was surprising, but the man usually steered clear of the wayward captain and left him to his own devices when it came to training the Daggers.

Today the captain sits in the ready room beside the rest of the pilots. Jake watches as Bradley sends his godfather an inquisitive brow from across the room, to which the older man just shrugs. Interesting.

Cyclone clears his throat. "Good afternoon. I apologize for keeping you all, but I promise this will only take a minute of your time. As I'm sure you are all aware, the United States Department of Defense takes immense pride in maintaining one of the most well integrated military forces in the world. It's our job to work closely with other service members to ensure their safety and the safety of our nation." He pauses. "As experienced as you all are, your time here at Topgun has not reflected that."

Jake's brow furrows, his tongue worrying at the toothpick clenched between his teeth as he listens to the admiral go on. Javy shoots him a look but Jake stares ahead, waiting for Beau to continue.

"The permanent installment of your squad here at Miramar was to create a tightly knit group of elite fighter pilots who would be available at a moment's notice, and however successful that may have been, I cannot neglect the fact that comfort builds complacency. Later today, a squad of U.S. Army soldiers will be arriving to aide in your training for the next six weeks. The integration of mixed branch training units has been widely effective around the country, and it's about time we do the same here at Miramar."

With that, the screen positioned on the wall behind him lights up, displaying enlarged headshots of about eight soldiers. The first seven are males of varying ages, but none older than probably thirty. Jake quickly skims over their names and credentials, but when he gets to the last profile, his eyes stop.

The last solider is the only female projected on the screen, but even so she stands out as compared to all the other members of her squad. He can't quite put his finger on why though.

She's uncharacteristically pretty. And by that he means that to most, her appearance would be inherently off putting— even without the straight-mouthed scowl on her face. She's got a square, almost masculine like jawline that hardens her features considerably. Her hair is light, worn from spending too much time in the sun regardless of however dark it may have been naturally. The same goes for her skin, which is comparably bronze in contrast to the tan line on her forehead, he would assume from wearing a patrol cap out in the field.

Her eyes are wild.

And that's when it hits him.

She'd been all over the news just a few months ago. Something about a patrol gone wrong out in the Middle East, which ultimately turned into a high stakes rescue mission to extract the surviving soldiers. They went in hoping to bring back nine men and came out with one. Apparently they didn't even get to recover the bodies.

Jake can't imagine what that'll do to a person.

Before he can stare at her profile any longer, Cyclone quickly clicks off the projection and the image disappears. This time he appears almost nervous as he stares back at them. "These soldiers are recently returning from a deployment in the Middle East, so I trust that you all will do your best to make them feel welcome. If none of you have any questions, that is all. You're dismissed."

---

The following morning, the Jake receives word from Maverick that the Admiral wants to see him in his office. It's not a strange request but certainly raises Jake's attention as to why specifically he was needed.

Upon entering the room, Jake finds not only the Admiral but Maverick and another female that he's yet to have seen before. All heads turn towards him when he enters, as if he were interrupting something. Immediately, Jake snaps to attention, his heels clicking together and his fingers brushing his brow with a sharpness that would make the academy proud.

Cyclone nods in his direction, acknowledging Jake's customary greeting and dismissing him with the notion. "Lt. Seresin," he begins, gesturing to the female standing across the room. "This is Lt. (L/n). She's uh—a member of the squad that I briefed you on yesterday."

He hadn't noticed that she was wearing Army OCPs but he connects the dots as soon as the admiral mentions her name. He remembers reading it on the projector during the meeting.

Rather than introducing herself, the soldier stands rigidly across from him, her arms folded in front of her chest with a look on her face that Jake can only describe as fucking pissed. Unsure of what to do but aware from personal experience with Phoenix that he shouldn't try to cross any unknown boundaries, Jake settles for offering her a respectful nod. She glares back at him.

"You're two of our only service members with active combat experience," Cyclone continues, obviously ignoring the girl's crossed disposition. "I'm hoping that you and Lt. (L/n) can find some common ground. Perhaps it would do you both some good to—"

"Respectfully, sir, if I wanted to vent to someone about my feelings, I'd go see a shrink," the woman growls. "I recommend you do the same, Lt. Seresin." Her tone makes Jake's brow raise slightly in surprise. No one talks to an admiral like that, not even Pete Mitchell.

"Lt. (L/n)," Cyclone snaps. "That's quite enough."

This time, she rolls her eyes with a scoff. "You can't just—"

"Get out."

She clamps her jaw shut but doesn't budge from where her feet are planted in the ground.

"I said, Get. Out," Cyclone reiterates.

The eyes that had caught Jake's attention in the first place fix the admiral with a chilling stare. To Jake, there's something familiar in those eyes. Some sort of unmistakably justifiable rage that runs deeper than just being dismissed from the conversation. Jake watches, his breath stalled as she sets her jaw, unwilling to move, when it hits him. Identical jawlines and untwitching scowls mirror each other.

The illegitimate child of Admiral Beau Simpson stands before him.

He doesn't know how he didn't see it before, granted they don't share a last name, but Jake was aware that the Admiral was divorced, had been for a while. Allegedly he wasn't the marrying type. Jake isn't surprised by the statement. Beau Simpson is a hard man to deal with.

Jake watches in silence as the girl ultimately releases an irritated huff and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind her. He can hear the loud, petulant stomp of her boots as she retreats down the hall. Evidently her looks weren't the only thing that she got from her dad. She had a temper that rivaled even Bradshaw's.

The clearing of the Admiral's throat removes Jake's eyes from the door. "I hope you can forgive my daughter's behavior. Her return to the states has been...difficult."

"I'm sure difficult is the way she would describe you too sir," Maverick jokes.

Cyclone fixes him with a perturbed glare but decidedly ignores his comment in favor of addressing Jake. "Lt. (L/n)'s squadron was ambushed six months ago. Just about everything that could have gone wrong went wrong and she was the only survivor. As her father, I wanted her to accept the Purple Heart and retire." He gestures flippantly towards the door. "Obviously that's not what she did."

Jake speaks for the first time since he entered the room. "Respectfully, sir, I don't blame her. I'm taking this career to the grave. I'm sure both your daughter and Captain Mitchell can agree," he adds glancing over at his instructor.

Before Maverick can voice his agreement, the admiral cuts him off.

"As I'm sure Captain Mitchell can attest to, as her father, I'm just trying to look out for her."

With his preexisting connection to Rooster, the godson that he would risk his career to protect, Maverick has no room to disagree with the admiral. For once, the captain, who usually always has something to say, stands with his palms folded behind his back and keeps his mouth shut.

"As I was saying," Cyclone continues, taking a seat behind his desk and kicking back as if to signal that he's won the conversation. "It is my hope that given your own—" the admiral hesitates for just a moment too long for Jake's liking "—personal experience, you'll be able to get through to her."

Jake swallows and hopes that he doesn't look as uneasy as the insinuation makes him feel. He has to take a moment to reassure himself that the psych unit has repeatedly cleared him for duty and that no one's threatening to take his wings away.

The nights that he wakes up, drenched in sweat, with his fingers wrapped around imaginary joysticks hard enough to make his palms bleed are few and far in between these days. And even those he's gotten good enough at faking like they don't bother him because he hasn't failed a psych evaluation in months.

It doesn't mean he likes to talk about it or that he won't hear the fear in Rooster's voice if he does.

But he's more scared of not flying than anything, so all Jake does is nod and offer a dry, "I'll do my best, sir."

———

PTSD or modern day shell-shock is what they like to call it. You call it waiting on the other shoe to drop.

Because there is always another shoe.

The slam of a beer bottle down on the bar top lights your nerves up like nothing else. It sends your heart straight to your stomach and makes your palms sweat like when you miss a step on the stairs and for a split second, you think you're going to die. You never do of course, but your body is hard wired that way to keep you alive.

There's a flaw in your system that hasn't been right since the east.

You knew that a popular naval bar on a Friday night wasn't the best place for you these days but your nerves had been yearning for an ice cold beer and fuck all if you weren't going to get one. The alcohol would soothe your nerves anyhow.

But after thirty minutes of waiting on said beer, you were beginning to lose your patience. Normally you weren't bothered by that kind of thing. The place was obviously busy and the lone woman behind the bar was doing her best to satisfy the flock of servicemen that only seemed to accumulate with every beer that she handed out.

Just when you're about to give up and leave, a large hand covers your lower back, pressing you forwards through the crowd and toward the bar top.

"Two more on me, please, Penny."

The voice belongs to the tall man standing behind you. He's removed his firm, but respectfully placed palm from your back and is now leaning over you to accept the two dripping bottles of beer. It doesn't take you long to recognize the green of his eyes from a few days prior.

"My dad didn't put you up to this did he?" you ask, somewhat reluctantly taking the bottle that he offers you. It's finger numbing cold, just how you like it.

He kind of just slowly smiles and shakes his head.

Immediately you feel like a jerk. You sigh, dropping your shoulders and smile softly back. "Sorry. That was rude."

"No, ma'am, he didn't. Just had to find out if you smiled like that all the time."

The part of you that's a little bit of a bitch makes you clench your teeth together, tightening the smile that was once spread across your lips. "I'm not looking for that kind of thing right now," is all you say.

You want to tell him that you used to not be so mean.

At the realization that his words had the exact opposite effect of what he was going for, the guy graciously extends his hand. "Look I don't mean to bother you, I just wanted to say hi."

Despite not being keen on his advances, you aren't going to be rude so you accept his outstretched hand. You're surprised by his gentleness. It's not the rough, over-masculine shake you are expecting.

"Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n)."

"I know your name," he admits with a light, almost embarrassed laugh. "I think everybody in here knows your name."

Your skin prickles. You stare at him stoney faced, bracing yourself for what's going to come out of his mouth. "Why's that?"

The guy—Lt. Seresin—you're remembering, shrugs. "I mean, you're quite the story back here in the states. A bit of a ghost story, I must say."

Ghost story is right. Because who survives that? How the fuck does a twenty-two year old girl survive an outnumbered ambush and not eight men with years of experience? Not someone who deserves to be called a hero, that's for sure.

You're trying your best to keep your cool with him. You know that you're in a public space and he's just being friendly. You used to be so good at this kind of thing, the flirting and small talk.

The thought occurs to you that maybe this is what you need. Maybe this will make you feel normal again. You need to feel normal again.

Maybe that is why you let him lean in closer, buy you another drink when yours runs dry, and another one after that. Maybe that is why you make an effort to laugh when he does, and you close your eyes when he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You let out the breath that's been tightening your ribcage and do your best to smile. "Thank you for the beer. You didn't have to do that." You hope the words sound as genuine as they're intended to.

He smiles back like he's supposed to, all polite and inherently forgiving of your original attitude. You catch onto the way it doesn't quite reach his eyes. You're not sure why but it makes you think maybe he's just a bit sad too.

Maybe that is why he lets you wordlessly take his hand and lead him to the back of the bar. Maybe that is why he lets you sink to your knees on the cold, sticky tiles of the men's bathroom floor, his hands already fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

It smells like beer and piss, and you don't even wait for him to get fully hard before you take him in your mouth, your nose buried into his pelvis, where it smells like sweat. It's all wrong and right at the same time, and he won't ask you to stop. He just curls his fingers into a fistful of your hair, pinpricks stinging at your scalp the same way tears sting at your eyes.

He—Jake—he'd told you a while ago, has a pretty cock. At least as pretty as cocks go. Pink and ruddy at the tip, where it mushroomed beautifully. Almost dauntingly long but not grossly so with a throbbing vein on the underside. You run your tongue along it and he muffles a whimper, his fingers wrapping harder around your hair in an effort not to buck up into your mouth. At least he's a gentleman about it.

He's heavy and twitching in your mouth. You feel heavy. He is standing above you, a harsh line of a man against the buzzing bathroom light. You remind yourself to breathe through your nose and he punches himself further, the head of his cock skimming the back of your throat.

You swallow around him, trying to hold together what little is left of your remaining sense of self. It's been a while since you've been so careless as to place yourself in someone else's hands, rolled over and showed your belly to someone who could easily take advantage of you.

Your jaw aches, uncomfortable and familiar, like something you don't want to remember. Tears well up behind your eyes, the threat of an unwanted but unknown feeling looming just out of reach. Jake's hand in your hair hold your head firmly against his pelvis, hips rocking up into your mouth. He sighs like he can finally breathe.

You can't breathe.

You try to and something rasps inside of you, choking. The feeling that had been looming threateningly sparkles through you. Panic.

You know that he tries to settle you, does his best to wipe the tears leaking from your eyes with his thumbs and murmurs softly to you. "Breathe. It's okay, breathe for me."

You can't. You can't breathe.

Your head is pounding and suddenly you aren't kneeling on the bathroom floor of the bar. You're on the ground, crying, screaming like a wounded animal and no one is coming to help. You can almost feel the dirt under your knees, taste the blood in your mouth.

"Y/N, you have to breathe."

Someone's grabbing you, hauling your useless feet across the floor. Your chest hurts like you've been punched with a bowling ball.

"C'mon, let's get some air."

How you end up outside the bathroom is beside you. All you know is one minute you're dying on your knees back in the desert and the next you're being sat down on the back steps of the bar. 

The cool air of the San Diego evening brings you back. That and the press of a cup of ice water to your lips, the condensation dripping from the glass and rolling down your throat. You swallow, letting the cool liquid soothe your burning throat.

You're aware of Jake sitting down beside you, close enough to touch if he wanted to but still keeping his distance. You can feel his eyes on you, watching carefully for a moment before he turns to stare out at the not so distance shoreline.

Your stomach feels odd, like you might be sick.

He probably thinks you're insane. You would think the same. But if he's dying to ask what the hell that was, he's doing a good job of hiding it.

How do you tell him that sometimes you think that you should have died, that sometimes the memories almost kill you?

"I hid."

He looks up from peeling off the label around the neck of his bottle. "What?"

You swallow, trying to collect yourself before your words fail you.

"I hid. A—After I was shot, I didn't get back up. I crawled under the humvee and... and I just laid there. I laid there and I closed my eyes and I prayed. I prayed that they wouldn't notice me lying under there or that they if they did, they would think I was already dead."

A mixture of sweat and dust burns your eyes. When you blink, you can feel the sandy grit trapped between them. You squeeze them shut while trying to swallow back the dryness of your throat in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort, but it doesn't do much. An unwarranted tear escapes and runs down the track of your nose.

With your rifle held closely to your chest, you let it slide down and collect on the bow of your lip. It joins the puddle of sweat that has already accumulated there. Out here, the sun cooks you alive. You swear it's a constant one thousand degrees. The twenty pounds of kevlar doesn't help.

Dirt kicks up beside you and gravel showers your helmet as a round of bullets buries themselves into the ground a mere six inches from your face. You hardly flinch.

Somebody is screaming. The sound of machine gun fire is ringing in your ears. Somebody is screaming.

"(L/N), C'MON. LET'S MOVE."

It's Cain. He's grabbing the strap of your kevlar vest and yanking you to your feet. You scramble after him, desperate not to be left behind. Bullets explode at your feet the moment the two of you emerge from the concealment of the dirt mound. Fear makes you run faster.

You spot Manny crouched behind the tire of the SUV to your right. He's firing rounds into the brush. You can tell that he's bleeding from a wound to his arm and you're about to veer off to help him when his head jerks backwards, the scattered remains of his brain plastered onto the white side of the truck.

You stop running, the words caught in your throat.

"RUN," Cain screams. He'd backtracked a few paces and grabs hold of your vest once again to drag you behind a second SUV. You stumble over him, falling haphazardly onto your rear once he lets go of you. He immediately turns to fire over the hood of the truck, and the bullets hitting the truck stop momentarily.

Clawing at the gravel on the ground, you hurry to scramble to your feet. Your head is pounding, your mouth dry and gritty. Huffing, you glance between Cain, who is fumbling to reload his magazine, and the crumpled figure of Manny a few yards away. You can only hope Ronny is still out there somewhere.

Before you can even try to locate him or any other members of the squad, movement to your left springs your muscles into action. You slam your back into the side door of the SUV just as a round of bullets pelt the spot where you were standing just moments before. Automatically, you raise your gun, returning the fire. There are a few more shots fired in retaliation, but they stop a second later.

Once you're sure they're subdued, you lower your gun, breathing hard. There's so much smoke and debris in the air that you can hardly even see Cain ten feet away. He's shuffling towards you in a low crouch.

"Let's move, (L/n). They know where we are. We've got to find different cover."

You nod, your finger still pressed tightly to the trigger of your weapon. You drop into a crouch and follow behind him as he creeps towards the back of the truck. He pauses a moment, scanning the landscape before looking back at you. His blue eyes are a startling contrast to the dirt and sweat covering his tanned face. He lifts his gun in the direction of a flipped humvee about fifty yards away. His mouth moves in a silent command.

One.

Two.

Three.

The gunfire starts up as soon as the two of you spring from behind the vehicle. You can hear the whizzing of bullets as they just barely miss your head. All you can do is pray you don't trip as you struggle to keep up with Cain. Your lungs burn and your boots feel impossibly heavy.

The terrain is barren but the ground loose, and rocks threaten to upend your footing, slipping out from beneath your feet as the two of you flee towards the vehicle.

30 yards from the humvee, Cain tumbles to the ground with a broken cry. The bullet catches him in the thigh, stopping him mid stride. He hits the ground hard.

Without even thinking, you skid to a stop. Bullets spray the ground around you. Somehow you're more afraid of leaving him than being shot.

"Go!" he yells at you, already trying to shove you away. "Go, I'm coming!"

Already, there's a lake of blood beneath him. You step in it and the ground squelches under your boot. Crimson gushes from his left thigh, effectively saturating the fabric of his pants. His face is terrifyingly pale. The bullet must have hit his femoral artery.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Like hell," you snap at him, your pervious fear suddenly boiling into the purest form of anger you've ever felt. Angry for being in this situation in the first place. Angry that of all people, Cain is going to die.

It's terrifying how quickly the realization comes to you, how easily you accept it as the truth. There's already too much blood. Without a tourniquet, he'll bleed out in minutes and there's not quite time for that.

"Leaving him behind wasn't an option. It never even occurred to me that it was," you confess, as if saying it aloud will somehow explain away this title of heroism that everyone wants to pin on you. "Dead or alive, he was coming with me."

You shoulder your rifle and use both hands to grab onto the straps of his vest, hefting him backwards towards the truck.

He must clamp onto his bottom lip to stop the scream that threatens to escape because the noise that comes from his mouth is garbled.

You drag Cain about ten feet before you realize how just heavy he is. There's sweat leaking into your eyes and all you can see is the bloody lake that's left behind as you drag him through the dust. Cain's gone quiet, his head lulled to the side, eyes almost shut.

"C'mon, Cain. We're almost there."

His boot snags on a rock, and when you tug him free, he doesn't utter a word.

Something inside of you knows he's gone, was gone long before you started dragging him. You're still ten yards from the SUV.

POP. POP. POP.

You pause, your eyes fixed ahead of you. "Have you ever been shot before?"

Beside you, Jake shakes his head.

"It feels like someone has shot a bowling ball into your chest. Knocks the breath right out of you."

Pain explodes straight through your ribcage. Your vision clouds and you're vaguely aware of your knees buckling beneath you.

When you come to, all of the wind has been knocked out of you from hitting the ground so hard and your immediate reflex is to suck in a reviving breath. Instead all that comes out is a gurgle, the tell tale sign that your chest cavity is filling with blood.

You swallow, looking off at the dark shoreline of the beach, watching as the waves crash against the sand. "I knew that I wasn't dead yet—I did— I just—" Your throat constricts and when you speak again your voice is quieter. "He was already gone so maybe a part of me had already gone with him."

Jake nods slowly, as if putting together the pieces that you're laying down bit by bit. Somehow his green eyes have remained soft this entire time and maybe that's where you find the courage to continue.

Lifting your head, you crane your neck to see the damage, but the thick layer of kevlar strapped to your chest obstructs your view of the lower half of your body. Grunting in frustration, you reach blindly in the direction that the pain is radiating from. Numbly, your fingers find the gushing hole in your side. The bullet had buried itself in the exposed inch of your stomach between your belt and your vest.

There mustn't be an exit wound because there isn't a ton of blood surrounding you. If the wet cough you emit is anything to go by, it's probably pooling in your abdominal cavity instead.

You're going to die.

"I don't know how long I laid there," you admit. "I knew that the clock was ticking, had been since the moment I hit the ground. It was only a matter of time before I blacked out or bled out... I guess I was just waiting to see which one came first."

The scattered rounds hitting the ground around you become muffled background noise as the lull of unconsciousness begins to sweep over you, dulling the world as you know it. Through the haze of your fading senses, your eyes fall on Cain's motionless figure a few feet beside you.

He's lying face up, his desert tan uniform seeped a muddy crimson. You'd known he was dead a while ago. Still, you carried him. He'd have done the same for you. He was your brother, dead or alive.

Blood bubbles from your nose as you struggle to keep yourself breathing. The fact that you have to remind yourself to do that isn't a promising sign. Your body is shutting down, doing anything it can to keep your heart pumping, even if it means shutting down everything else.

Somewhere through the dullness, you hear Cain's voice. MOVE, (L/N).

You close your eyes, trying to picture his face from what had been just a few minutes ago. You remember the urgency in his blue eyes, the intensity of his fear overridden by adrenaline. How had that been only moments ago?

MOVE, (L/N).

"I—I heard his voice," you state, your tone not open for discussion. "Not the gun fire, not God, not anyone else's. I heard his voice."

So many people had tried to convince you otherwise, tried to tell you that it was because of the shock and your brain was shutting down, that you were hearing things. But you know what you heard.

"He saved my life, Jake."

You can see the gears turning in his head, the question carefully forming on his lips. "Were you two— I mean was he—"

It's the first time you have to suck back tears, your chest rattling with a longing emptiness as you fight the urge to cry. Memories of his wild blue eyes and wide smile that could only ever mean he was misbehaving flash through your mind.

You met Sergeant Anthony Cain not long after you commissioned as a Lieutenant. You were still a green officer when you were charged with your first platoon and given orders to deploy out East. You were scared as hell and Cain was your saving grace. He came in as if he'd always known you needed him and the rest was history.

There was never any question about intentions or commitment to each other. Cain was as honest as they came and you left it at that. You never imagined that's where your story would begin and end.

"I don't know, Jake. We didn't get that far."

Forcing your eyes open, you access the area around you. The sound of enemy fire has slowed but that doesn't mean movement won't trigger a return of bullets your way. Still, you know they'll be looking for survivors once the dust settles, and you don't want to be around when they do.

The humvee is only a little over ten yards away. You might would say it was crawling distance if it weren't for the fact that you were actively bleeding out. Even so, you don't really have any other option.

You take as deep of a breath as you can, your chest rasping as you do so, before lifting your right leg and using the weight of it to swing yourself over onto your stomach. Immediately, searing hot pain radiates through your chest and legs. You cry out, curling in on yourself, writhing on the ground like a wounded animal.

Sputtering, trying to breathe through the pain long enough so that you can move, you feel hot tears track down your face. They're tears of insurmountable pain and hopeless desperation.

"All I kept thinking was 'how does anyone survive this?' It was unimaginable, the pain. Looking back now, I don't know how I did it. I don't think I could do it again if I had to," you admit.

Softly, as not to scare you, you feel the gentle weight of Jake's palm on your knee. "You won't have to," he promises. "But you did it. You survived."

You stare down at his hand on your knee.

With a trembling, blood stained hand, you reach out in front of you and dig your fingers into the ground. Heaving, you draw yourself forward, your legs dragging limply through the dust. It takes an unimaginable amount of strength to pull yourself even six inches.

Sniffling back tears and out of breath, you curl your fingers into the ground and drag yourself forward again. This time, you probably only move half as far. You have to fight the urge to just lay your cheek against the ground and cry.

You do this again and again, keeping one hand pressed into the gushing wound at your side while the other drags you forward. Your lower half has become increasingly heavier with each passing minute, your legs nothing but dead weight to pull along. You don't think you could move them if you tried.

It takes you forty minutes to drag yourself to the humvee. By the time you get yourself fully under the abandoned vehicle, your fingers are torn and bleeding, the tips ripped open and embedded with bits of gravel.

Your muscles collapse the very second you give them the chance. Your forehead drops down to rest against the ground, and you finally have a moment to shudder out a sob. Your throat is dry and cracked, and dust coats the inside of your mouth. You're dimly aware that your breaths are dangerously shallow. You just know that you're miserably nauseous and each passing moment is more unbearable than the next.

You turn your own palm over, staring at the scars of your ruined finger tips, scars that tell a story of how you survived. They're ugly, and you wish you didn't have to look at the all of the time. At least your torso is mostly hidden. You've moved to a beach town and will never be able to put on a swimsuit.

Jake’s eyes follow yours and after a moment he flips his palm over, his fingers spread and inviting. His hands are large and calloused from years of flying. There are fingernail divots in his palm.

Almost shyly, his green eyes meet yours. You see a bit of that sadness you saw earlier. “I know it’s not my job to be your shrink or whatever,” he adds with a laugh and you can’t help but laugh with him. “But you’re not alone. We’re all a bit fucked up if you haven’t noticed.” He shrugs. “It comes with the job.”

You can’t help yourself. You trace a finger over the scarred palm of his hand. “My dad would disagree.”

Jake is fighting the urge to close his palm around yours, not wanting to overstep, and so he’s pleased when you intertwine your fingers with his.

“Family dinner must be interesting.”

Jake came from a military family himself and so he knows how deep the ties run. His old man was a sailor and so he knew better than to come home sporting anything other than his dress whites.

You laugh out loud because he’s not wrong at all. Jake squeezes your fingers in response. His hand feels good in yours. Safe and heavy in the way a padlock feels. Like he’s not going anywhere.

“It’s not all ‘Go Army, Beat Navy’ believe it or not. Don’t get me wrong, I was raised a Navy brat and I have a hell of a lot of respect for my old man, but at the end of the day, I had to choose myself. I couldn’t do that with him watching over my shoulder. The Army’s been both the greatest and the worst thing that could have happened to me,” you confess.

Jake hums, dare you say almost disbelievingly.

“What?”

“A few weeks here and you’ll change your mind. No one does it like the Navy does.”

It’s your turn to make a noise of disbelief.

“I guess you’ll just have to impress me, Flyboy.”

Jake squeezes your hand again. “Oh I plan to.”

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word count: 4360

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Rader is a little mean to the boys in this chap, but she's just defending herself! everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 -)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hii beautiful people!! I'm finally back with the second chap of this story! It took me longer than the first one, sorry for the delay! hope you enjoy it a lot! You would help me a lot by liking, reblogging and commenting! Without further ado, thank you very much and enjoy!

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... that sound definitely wasn't the rain....

Your senses were sharpened to the maximum again, your hand gripping your weapon tightly and securing it close to your body. Your heart and breathing seemed to be in a race to see which one was faster, but you could be sure that your heart was the winner, as you could literally feel it pounding in your ears. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, nerves and anxiety on edge, you tried to swallow to moisten it, but your attempts were futile. You could feel tears stinging your eyes from the desperation you felt.

"Holy shit..." your voice was barely a whisper as you tried to process what was happening. You tried to calm yourself and sharpen your hearing so you knew how many men you were up against. Your room suddenly seemed suffocating and tiny, you felt the bubbling of a panic attack in your chest, you felt like you were going to die, your mind kept telling you that your minutes were numbered. You started to shake as one shudder after another went through your body like lightning, it was desperate and terrifying. You quietly climbed down from your bed and approached the door of your room on tiptoe. You wanted to listen better, because despite your fear, dying was not an option, not after surviving for so long. Breathing shakily, you leaned your ear against the door of your room, trying to catch a sound. Fuck, you had no idea what to do, fear made your legs shake slightly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the intruders were breathing heavily and panting, a sign that they had been running. Their clothes were soaked from the heavy storm outside, so the floor was filled with small puddles of water and some mud "Fuck, that was close..." one of them said, trying to catch his breath, putting a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart as he leaned against the front door, holding it shut.

How stupid you were. In the midst of crying for your mother, you'd forgotten the most important thing: securing the fucking front door of your house.

"It was all Jake and Ni-ki's fault, we almost got caught by the police!" another voice shouted, pointing at the named ones who looked at him with a mixture of indignation and disbelief, while the first boy who had spoken looked at him with wide eyes, signaling him to shut up.

"Excuse me? no no, no way, it's not our fault, no one forced you to come with us Jay..." another of the voices said with a distinctive accent, his words tinged with contempt "And try not to scream, the police might still be around.." Jay frowned and approached this one with indignant steps "Don't be an idiot Jake, we can't let you go off alone in the middle of the night, you know crime has risen too much in the last few years, there's a reason the government declared a curfew after midnight, fuck..." his voice sounded frustrated as he looked at him seriously. "'You're a grown man, you should have a little more conscience, you both could have been killed..." he said this time with more seriousness and concern, scolding him firmly in a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air.

Definitely none of them wanted to die, let alone go to jail, Jay was right, they couldn't just leave in the middle of the night and put themselves in danger and worry the rest of the group. It was a miracle they had found this house, a few more minutes and the police would have caught them.

"Well, sorry, it was my idea Jay Hyung..." another deeper voice said as he scratched his neck a little embarrassed and looked at the elder "Anyway, we're all fine," he said this time with a little cheeky but guilty smile trying to break the tense moment.

A sigh was heard, followed by another clear voice. "It's okay Ni-ki, make sure you don't do it again please..." he asked firmly but at the same time calmly as he looked at the one named and also at Jake who nodded silently, feeling a little guilty, he had quite a bit of leadership in his voice. Ni-ki nodded, "Okay, Jungwon Hyung..." Ni-ki's deep voice hung in the cold air of the house as Jungwon sighed again.

The house was silent for a few seconds as the boys looked around and surveyed the place, ignoring the fact that they were freezing to death from the water that had fallen on them in the middle of winter. And it had occurred to Ni-ki that it would be fun to leave (escape) from where they lived at three in the morning, Jake saw him trying to leave and joined him on the pretext that he "couldn't let him go alone because it was too dangerous", which brought them all here.

Ni-ki was the youngest of the group, which of course made him the most rebellious, and someone like that always needed an accomplice, which was Jake most of the time, which led to both of them getting into trouble quite often.

"It's a nice house...strange that it's abandoned..." another voice, different from the others, a little softer, broke the silence, praising the architecture of the place, your place. And it was true, it was a huge house, with a modern vintage style. Another of the boys nodded in agreement as he shook his head a little, trying to get the water out of his hair, "Yeah, Sunoo's right...it's pretty nice for being abandoned..." The words hung heavy in the air as the boys looked at each other, seemingly searching for answers, there seemed to be an immediate understanding between them as the named one nodded and the seven began to explore the living room, their steps cautious in the new suspicion that someone already lived in the house. Even though it seemed empty, they had to make sure they were out of danger.

On the second floor, you had managed to identify seven voices from your room, where you were still trying to calm down. So they were being chased by the police for breaking the curfew, tsk...men. Your breathing was still fast, but as you listened to their conversations, you managed to calm down a bit, knowing that because of their actions, it wouldn't be very difficult to deal with them.......

or so you thought

You could hear them walking around your living room and decided that you needed to listen more closely, their voices were a little muffled by the distance. You were about to open your bedroom door slightly, but what sounded like something falling to the floor startled you slightly as your free hand instinctively grabbed the doorknob, as if holding on to it would somehow protect you from them.

"Shit..." cursed the voice of one of the guys whose name you hadn't heard yet, furrowing his brow slightly "Pfff...what an idiot, Heeseung Hyung..." Ni-ki said, letting out a laugh as he sneered at the older one, watching as he crashed into a nearby shelf, causing a ceramic jug to fall and shatter into several pieces on the floor.

Heeseung turned his head to look at Ni-ki with narrowed eyes, "Aish...hey, what a brat...i can't see..." mild annoyance ran through his dramatic voice as he defended himself and pointed at Ni-ki who was still laughing. The other five boys chuckled a little at the amusing situation between the oldest and the youngest of the group. They got along so well, you could hear a certain camaraderie in their voices, as if they had known each other forever "I mean, ....Ni-ki isn't wrong..." the other boy, whose name you didn't know yet, remarked with a slight sideways smile that showed his fangs a little longer than usual, a cute, not-so-usual attraction.

Heeseung looked at him without any amusement on his face, judging him with his eyes. They had this habit of teasing him, not that he really minded, but he was tired, hungry and soaking wet, not in a good mood "Really, Sunghoon, you too?" he shook his head in disapproval as Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders without saying anything else and let out a small chuckle. He was really stressed out too and fuck, the current situation had affected him a lot, he hadn't had pussy in over four fucking years and he fucked so often that he was really going crazy.

Not that he was a pervert (or maybe yes), but he excused himself by saying that "fucking relieved his stress and made him perform better in his daily life"

But he had never experienced falling in love, only one-night stands, just like the other guys. The hope that he could have pussy faded deeper and deeper in the back of his mind, and he resigned himself to settling for his own hand. But he refused to accept that idea, he still had some hope. He didn't just want to fuck, he wanted a woman he could love and who would love him, he wanted to be a good love and he also had a dream of being a father, something that obviously seemed unattainable for Heeseung, in fact it seemed unattainable for the seven men.

They really wanted to fall in love...

In fact, they were all stressed about the lack of pussy.... Even Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were still virgins and had never been able to bury their sad cocks in real pussy, were sexually frustrated. But for Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon and Sunoo, the feeling of being trapped inside a pussy was like nothing else in the world and now they could only remember and even imagine because fuck, four years without sex, it was like being a virgin all over again.

But come on, their hearts needed to be stimulated as much as their cocks.

Jungwon cautiously approached the now non-existent jar on the ground, bowing slightly and examining it, "If someone was here, they would have heard us by now..." he mused with a calm expression. He straightened as he turned to look at the other boys, they were like his family, he had known them for many years and loved them like his brothers.

The only thing that illuminated the living room at the moment was the light from the occasional thunder light that came through the window like a horror movie. It was a huge place, enough for everyone to be comfortable "I think we can either spend the night here or keep the place, after all, the one we had was getting too small for the seven of us..." he looked at them, waiting for a sign of denial, but they all seemed to agree.

It wasn't a bad idea, after all. They were in the middle of the forest, far away from the city, where there was more crime by the way, and the place seemed quite cozy. Besides, if Jungwon said so, it was because it had to be. He always made sure that everyone felt comfortable, even though they often fought like siblings, which was sometimes funny, Jungwon always prioritized everyone's well-being.

"Well, we should look for the bathroom, clothes and blankets, I'm freezing...we could take a bath..." Sunoo spoke for the second time, articulating each of his words with his hands. The boys nodded. A hot shower sounded great after running through the forest in the rain, so much that their legs felt tired.

"Good idea, we should split up, go through the rest of the house and look for the things we need..." fuck no, if they went through the rest of the house they would definitely find you and that couldn't happen, they couldn't find you, so you had no choice but to find them before it was too late.

Sunghoon's voice was full of determination as he explained his idea to the others, who immediately agreed. But before they could take action, you beat them to it for your own good.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you..." Your voice finally echoed through the living room with newfound certainty, causing a sudden hush to fall over the place. Your gun was pressed against the large back of one of the seven boys, who was now undeniably tense, you could tell by the way the muscles in his back were contracting under his clothes. He was tall, blond, and seemed to have well-defined biceps.....

"No, idiot, this is not the time to think about biceps, concentrate" You mentally scolded yourself.

Instinctively, he raised both hands to let you know that he was not going to attack you. His hands were shaking slightly and he was completely stiff as he felt the cold metal of your gun against his back, which, in addition to your distinctly feminine voice, sent shivers down his spine.

From your vantage point, you could see the faces of the other six boys, pale and still as if they had seen a ghost. And no wonder, they must be more confused and shocked than ever. The torrential rain that pounded against the windows and roof was the only thing that filled the deadly silence. It was the first time you had seen people in years, your heart was beating fast in your chest and you couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement...

or perhaps a mixture of both.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of them tried to move forward, his hair was a deep red, but quickly there was an instant click in your head as you pulled the safety off your gun, making him flinch in place, your survival instinct was at its peak "Take another fucking step and I'll blow your friend's head off..." your voice was cold as was the expression on your face, your breathing rapid, matching that of the guys in front of you who seemed more nervous than you.

Your eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and even though you were scared shitless inside, you didn't want to let it show, you didn't want them to notice your weakness. This time you leaned your gun against the back of the blond boy's neck, indicating that you meant business.

Fuck, they couldn't let something go unnoticed, something they thought didn't exist anymore and that they would never see again in their lives, suddenly the reality they lived in took a 180 degree turn when you appeared, you were a woman, fuck, you clearly were, and you stood in front of them and threatened to blow Sunghoon's head off with one shot. It all seemed like a lie, the last four years of their lives began to have an unbearable weight on their backs when they saw you. They began to think they were hallucinating and had to blink several times to process the information. Even so, their throats felt dry and their eyes couldn't take their eyes off you. Sunghoon began to feel impatient, yes, he was scared, but he also wanted to see you, so he gathered all his courage to speak

"M-Miss...we don't want to hurt you..." you idiot, he mentally cursed himself for stuttering slightly and scrunched up his face in an expression that clearly said 'I screwed up', he who never hesitated in front of any woman had just done it with you, which left his ego a little bruised, but he didn't care.

You clenched your jaw as you heard him speak, pressing the gun harder against his head, making him tense up even more, if that was possible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...really, we don't mean any har-..."

Pathetic, he begged pathetically, but a mixture of fear and emotion controlled him at that moment, he couldn't control it.

"Shut up...you talk too much for someone who is being targeted..." your voice was cutting and harsh, making it clear that there was no room for discussion in your words, making Sunghoon shut up immediately as he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

You had to find a way to control the situation, no matter what. You grabbed the boy's soaked shirt from behind and pushed him down, "Get on your knees..." you ordered firmly and he obeyed immediately, kneeling on the ground, you don't have many options when you have a gun pointed at you, making it so that everyone could see you better now. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you couldn't trust them, not yet, "You too, idiots, what are you waiting for?"

Yes, maybe you were too harsh, but you had to guarantee your survival first and foremost.

With the seven men now kneeling on the floor in front of you, you sighed and thought about what to do next. You weren't going to kill them, you weren't that kind of person, even if it gave them a free hand to hurt you, you just weren't that kind of person. But letting them go wasn't an option either, what were you going to do, stay with them? you didn't know them, the most you knew was their names and from the way they looked, they were all around your age.

"Are you really a woman?" the voice of one of them broke through your cloud of thoughts. Oh God, you didn't think they were that stupid, he really just asked you that?

You raised your eyes to look at the boy who had spoken, your brow was clearly furrowed, he had some blue strands in his black hair "Jay, shut up for God's sake," Heeseung spoke softly, clearly scolding him, really, he couldn't believe his friend had asked that. But he didn't blame him, he was just as or even more stunned than Jay by your presence, which made him move slightly in his place, not wanting to alert you, he really couldn't believe his eyes either, actually none of them could.

While you thought intently without saying a word, your gun still rested on Sunghoon's head. You bit your lower lip, trying to think of a quick solution, but damn, this was clearly going to take a long time. A sigh left your lips, you were sleepy, your body was aching and your head was going a mile a second, which made your mental situation difficult as well as putting your thoughts in order. In addition, you couldn't see much because there was no light and everyone's eyes were on you, which inevitably made you a little nervous.

Meanwhile, the boys' minds were no better off than yours, still trying to process that you actually exist and are not a figment of their imagination.

Hell, they even wanted, no, they had to be in Sunghoon's place. Just knowing that you were a woman got them going, but what about your assertive dominance? The way you had brought Sunghoon, who was probably one of the strongest in the group, to his knees with a simple command from your lips was fucking attractive.

The tension in the air was thick, not only because they were threatened at gunpoint, but also because there was an undeniable sexual attraction and tension between you and them. It was impossible to control, something instantaneous that left them with their breath caught in their throats and their cocks already half hardened in their pants, including Sunghoon himself. They didn't want to look like dogs in heat or perverts, they didn't want to scare you and make you think badly of them, but it was something that was simply out of their hands.

The cold they had felt from being soaked earlier vanished at a ridiculous speed and was replaced by warmth. Their faces were slightly flushed and now that they knew you were real, they couldn't help but imagine a lot of situations in their twisted minds, but damn, besides being hard, you were beautiful, a temptation at a glance that made them clench their thighs as their erections went wild.

Sunghoon, who was closest to you, was the most affected, he could even smell your scent, so soft and delicate, the scent of a woman. He stopped himself from inhaling your precious scent with all his might, forgetting that the tip of a gun was pressed against his head.

Jungwon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in your presence, which was quite strong, "Miss, please..don't hurt us... we can just go and..." a dry laugh came out of your throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, cutting off his words, "Sure, I'll let you go so you can shout that you found a woman all over Seoul..." Your words were clearly sarcastic, rejecting his suggestion outright, making Jungwon quickly shake his head in an attempt to contradict you, but your gaze was enough to make him stop trying.

"Then you'll have to let us stay here..." the rational sense of Heeseung had left his head when he dared to say those words with a tone of boldness and obviousness as he looked at you with slightly half-closed eyelids, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It infuriated you, how could he be so arrogant when you could literally kill him at any moment? You looked at him as you let go of Sunghoon and approached him with quickened steps. You grabbed his jaw with one of your hands and roughly lifted his face to look into his eyes while resting your gun on his forehead. Your eyes betrayed your anger, but he seemed too relaxed for his own good, "You better shut the fuck up, because if you don't..." the asshole didn't let you finish as he blatantly interrupted you, "If I don't, what?..." he dared you, not only with his voice, but also with his eyes.

How fucking dare he?

"You're not going to kill us..." he said, his fucking grin getting bigger and bigger, "if you wanted to, we'd all be dead by now from the moment you walked into this room, precious..."

Oh fuck, he couldn't be that fucking arrogant, but he was right, you wouldn't kill them and you hated that he could read you so easily without even knowing you.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to break his ridiculously attractive face, because that was one little detail you hadn't been able to overlook, they were all fucking attractive, but you couldn't afford to think about that when your top priority had to be keeping yourself safe.

You clenched his jaw with your hand, your fingers digging lightly into his skin, causing a small sigh to leave his lips, "You're right, i may not want to kill you...but I'll blow your fucking balls off if you keep spitting shit..." this time he didn't dare interrupt you, instead he seemed to be lost in limbo. His gaze was fixed on your lips as you spoke each word with furious determination....

Fuck, you had fire in you

The formula was simple: danger equals adrenaline, adrenaline equals thrill, and thrill equals arousal. There was no other way to explain why they enjoyed danger so much.

The others were waiting for the scene to unfold in front of them.

So you weren't going to kill them. A relief settled in their chests when they realized that you weren't a bad person, you were just defensive, which was completely normal when seven intruders enter your house in the middle of the night. Jungwon had quickly understood and realized that Heeseung had been the first to notice, that's why he dared to talk to you like that. Now the group was less tense, they trusted their oldest member, they knew that Heeseung wouldn't risk doing something he wasn't completely sure about.

"All right, no need for anyone to get hurt, miss..." Jungwon interrupted what seemed to be a dueling stare between Heeseung and you, his words a little more confident now that Heeseung had taken it upon himself to break through the layer of harsher tension, but still he was being cautious.

Your eyes didn't leave Heeseung's and you didn't take the gun away from his head either, but his words echoed in your head and honestly, you didn't have much of a choice. Curiosity bubbled in your chest, you wondered what to do, you had been alone too long, you remembered nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so scared. Maybe letting them stay was your best option, you knew you were the last woman on earth, you were sure that if you asked them to do something, they would do it without hesitation and maybe they could protect you. Bring you out of your state of loneliness, which seemed to grow with time.

The boys' knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long, but the tense situation in the living room was too tense for any of them to try to make a move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, including you.

A sigh escaped your lips when you realized that you would have no choice but to let them stay here, but if that was going to happen, it would be under your own rules. You didn't want to be alone anymore, which didn't mean that you were going to blindly trust them overnight, because trust was a luxury you could pay dearly for if you decided to put all your cards on the table.

You let go of Heeseung's face and slowly lowered your gun, your gaze, still quite hard, shifting from him to the other guys as you took your time to study their expressions.

"Alright..I'll let you all stay..." you finally declared and your words were an immediate comfort to the seven men in front of you, but before any of them could say anything you continued "But..." you fell silent for a few seconds, letting the anticipation fill the air "if any of you do anything stupid, i swear...

i will kill you..."

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @suhwife @elairah @merwdusa @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonly @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsaika @immelissaaa

[mrsparkjimin18]

can you handle it?

🔞pairing: Tae x Reader X JK

🔞genre: Girls Night Out AU, Strangers to lovers, pure unadulterated smut, porn with little plot, threesome, party bus sex, playboys Tae and JK

🔞rating: M

🔞wordcount: 3909

⚠️chapter warnings: extremely descriptive and graphic smut scene

summary: A night out with the girls was meant to be simple fun—until a chance encounter turns the heat up. Drinks, dancing, a flirtation that goes too far… Now, the only question left is: Can You Handle It?

Being single for the last seven months has put your life into perspective; it’s pretty boring. You thought throwing yourself into your work would fill that void of loneliness, but so far you have been very wrong. 

You haven't been out with the girls in a while and the idea of a party bus sounds like the perfect Friday night. Your BFF insists the male-to-female ratio is always lit on this booze tour and she promises nobody's going home alone.

"Who says I wanna take anybody home?” you sneer, becoming instantly defensive. “Don’t assume I’m in need of a dick appointment just because I’ve been single for almost a year.”

“Nobody’s saying you have to start a whole new relationship. You just need to get yours before you explode from the stress,” she reminds her in the sweet yet patronizing tone of a best friend who doesn’t hold back.

“I get mine!” You exclaim dramatically.

“Your vibrator doesn’t count bitch. Get ready. Bus will be there in forty-five minutes.” 

She hangs up before you can protest further and you race to get ready. You take a quick shower and then decide to throw on the cute hot pink dress you purchased as a pick-me-up – you know, the one you thought you’d wear to get over him, but never did. Then you slip into your stilettos, apply light makeup and throw your hair into a messy bun.

You inspect yourself in the mirror, deciding it's good enough for a night out with the girls, since you have no intention of hooking up with anyone. You just want to live for tonight; with great music, good company, and lots of drinks. Your thought process is interrupted by a notification letting you know the bus is arriving, and you take a few deep breaths before rushing with restraint to the door.

There’s already a decent number of riders when you board, though not a single guy appeals to your taste; which is fine since you’re not interested in hooking up. But within a few stops you find yourself needing to reinforce this mantra of self imposed celibacy, when two insanely good-looking men step onto the bus and instantly catch your eye. 

You wonder if they're brothers. Both are tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled jaws, deep brown eyes, and black hair that looks casually mussed yet perfectly coiffed at the same time. Your breath hitches as they choose to sit right across from you.

Your BFF raises an approving mischievous eyebrow in your direction that you return with a quick sneering glare. However, you’re already beginning to feel shy and exposed as both of the tantalizing men seem to eye your dangerously bare legs, making you feel as if maybe you should have dressed down for the night.

The tour stops at a few smaller pubs, giving just enough time for a couple shots and a little mingling. But you're unable to control the urge, constantly finding yourself scanning the room for the two guys from the bus. Each time you find them they seem to be staring in your direction, as if sizing you up. When you finally arrive at the last stop - one of the hottest night clubs in the area - some of the riders go their separate ways while the rest of the party heads inside to continue the night's festivities.

Bottles cover the table in the VIP, shots are passed around, and eventually the party heads to the dance floor. Your favorite song plays and your body moves to the familiar rhythm without thought. You close your eyes, letting the music flow through you - relaxing you - making you forget.

Before you know it, the two men you’ve been playing I spy with all night have you sandwiched, their hands on your hips, your bodies now moving in unison to the beat you were alone in a moment ago.

"I'm Taehyung, this is my friend, Jungkook. We noticed you noticing us,” One says confidently from where he dances behind you. “Is there something we can help you with?” he asks, pulling your body against his and letting his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

His friend, Jungkook, notices your pupils flare in response to Taehyung's question and he moves closer, pressing his body to yours. The pressure of them against you feels so right, as if it was fate calling your name, convincing you this is what you need. 

You instantly feel your body relax between them. Melding with them as you continue to move to the music. All thoughts of your earlier mantra dissolving under their touch. Taehyung loosens his grip on your waist, and soon his hands are exploring; roaming your body, sliding across sections of bare skin not hidden by your dress, seeking to know you through touch. All the while you stare into Jungkook’s smiling, excited eyes as his friend continues his tour of your body. His expression tells you you’re beautiful, you’re sexy, you’re desired. His hungry penetrating gaze and Tae’s roaming hands transform you into the goddess you always knew was within, awaiting release.

You’re so intent on his eyes, you don’t notice Jungkook’s hand leaving your waist to join the expedition, and the sudden feel of his curious fingers trailing up your inner leg, stopping just short of your already quivering slit, makes your knees buckle. His eyes light up with increased excitement. He leans forward taking a nibble of your ear, inching his fingers into your lonely passage, opening you, releasing your essence. They move inside you as if joining in on the dance. You let out an audible sigh as he exits.

"Already wet and we haven’t even begun the fun yet," he teases, holding up his slick glistened fingers for Tae to see.

Your inner goddess shrinks back a bit in embarrassment as you quickly look around at the throng of people dancing near you. “Stop that,” you giggle nervously as you grab Jungkook’s wrist in an attempt to lower his hand from view. But he’s too strong and you have little success in moving him even an inch.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he purrs as he brings his wet fingers to your lips, your hand still gripping his wrist. Then his lips follow, kissing you over his fingers, your tongues meet, exploring each other’s mouths, savoring your taste.

One of Taehyung’s exploring hands slips quietly beneath the hem of your dress. He cups the supple curve of your ass, squeezing once before slowly descending in search of the treasure below. Two of his long slender fingers slide eagerly into your now quivering walls and you feel the heat of his breath on your neck as his tongue lingers up behind your ear, his lips planting a warm kiss. 

"She's definitely ready," he growls, tasting your sweet nectar.

Grinding against you, it becomes evident they feel the same. Slick dripping down your thigh, you return the favor, palming both of their cocks, feeling them harden from your touch.

"You guys want to get out of here? We can go to my place.” The desperation in your request was fairly obvious.

"Be patient princess, we've got time," Jungkook utters, moaning at the tender grip you have on his stiff member.

His lips meet your neck and he nibbles and sucks, marking you, claiming you as theirs. You feel his bulging cock twitch in your hand when you lay your head back onto Taehyung’s chest, inviting him to mark the other side of your neck.

Just as he finishes leaving his second mark, the song ends. You lead them off the dance floor towards the VIP and they follow like obedient servants, making you feel powerful and seductive - a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. Your inner Goddess beams with pride. 

They untuck their shirts as you enter the VIP, attempting to hide their arousal. But you know what awaits you beneath those layers of fabric. You felt the promise of what they have to offer and you can’t wait to claim your rewards.

In the VIP more rounds of shots are poured, the flirting and teasing continues, and everyone is drunk and oblivious to the private party taking place right in front of them. Welcoming kisses from their soft lips, deliberate caresses of your inner thighs, your body aching for more. 

As the night lingers on guests begin leaving, opting for a rideshare rather than the party bus. Your BFF is still on the dance floor with the man she decided she was going home with tonight, and upon noticing you’re still at the club she dashes over to the VIP.

“Give the driver your address, because I *hiccup* going home with Miguel! He knows how to Tango *hiccup* perfectly in this!” She quickly scurries back to him and they exit the club, his hand cupped on her round ass as they walk out.

You jot down your address on a napkin, Taehyung grabs it from you, slipping it into his pocket, having heard the conversation between you and your friend.

"Looks like it's just us, are you ready, baby?" Taehyung asks with his deep, seductive voice. The sheer tone sends chills through every orifice on your body, causing your skin to shiver and fill with goosebumps. Jungkook places his large hand on the small of your back, leading you to the exit. 

“Take the longest route to this address,” Taehyung insists, handing the driver the napkin and a hundred dollar bill, before following you and Jungkook into the private back section of the party bus.

Just as they had earlier, you sit across from them, teasingly spreading your legs, revealing your exposed core. Moaning as you dip two fingers into your warm core and pull them out, sucking and releasing them with a pop. 

Taehung eyeballs you while palming himself, nodding at Jungkook to give you what you’re clearly in need of. Standing up, Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head, unbuttoning and allowing his pants to fall to his feet, his hard cock standing at attention for you. He slowly crouches into a kneel in front of your parted thighs, his fingers linger over your slit, your whole body quivering with desire.

The sensation of his warm tongue feasting on your clit numbs all your other senses. A slow burn starts in the pit of your stomach, surging slowly through your veins with every suck, swirl and lick.  He plunges his tongue inside your succulent, tight walls as your euphoric orgasm comes to a peak. Fingers gripping his hair holding his head in place, your core grinding against his face accelerating your high.

"K-Kook I'm cumming!" The elevated tone in your voice summons Taehyung's lips to your mouth, muffling your moans, his tongue exploring your mouth, entangling with yours.

When you finish, Jungkook stands, wiping your slick from his chin before settling back on the velvet bench seat across from you. Watching him lustfully as he strokes his hard cock. Taehyung stands over you, large cock in hand ready to stretch your walls to the point of no return.

Before he has a chance, Jungkook calls him over, inaudibly whispering into Tae’s ear. They both look you over, sneering and smirking, mischievous grins on their faces.

“We’re keeping secrets now?,” you inquire playful, yet pouty.

“He said, ‘I don’t think she’s ready for what we’re gonna give her,’ so the question is can you handle it?” Taehyung questioned, his dark, hooded eyes filled with lust, ready to pound into you, filling you with his large cock.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you drank tonight, maybe it’s the lack of sexual release in the last 8 months, but the words that leave your mouth next surprise all of you.

“I’m ready to take whatever you’re going to give me,” your finger pointing daringly at Taehyung, which he obviously takes as a challenge.

“Come sit on it then,” Tae commands while using both hands to stroke his massive shaft.

You stand up, hiking your dress to your waist and walk over to him, straddling his thick thighs as you position him at your entrance. Slowly guiding him into you, walls stretching more than they ever have around his girthy cock. You feel him in your stomach, wanting to tap out, but refusing to lose a challenge.

He feels your hesitation once he’s buried deep inside of you, his large hands grip your hips, lifting you up and down, coaxing your hips to roll. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you close as he lays down on the bench seat, giving himself better leverage from the bottom. 

The sudden feel of a finger teasing the outer rim of your other hole surprises you, however, your body is aroused with ecstasy and you let yourself relax into it. 

That is, until you notice Jungkook stand and slowly make his way to you, throbbing cock in hand and a sly grin on his perfect face, fully aware Taehyung is only readying you for what’s to come.

He leans down and kisses you more softly than you expect, letting you feel the curve of his playful grin against your trembling lips before sliding down to your neck, trailing kisses along your nape as he moves behind you and out of view, only the feel of him mapping out his conquest betraying his location. 

Tae grabs your chin, forcing you to open your eyes, the fingers of his other hand still prodding and prepping that yet to be opened portal of pleasure. 

"Look at me, baby," he purrs, "focus on me."

You nod in acquiescence, almost forgetting the looming figure at your back as your hungry eyes lock on his and you continue your rhythmic hip slide up and down his enormous shaft.

Jungkook’s grinning lips and hot tongue disappear suddenly from your back, his hand bearing down gently until your face is mere inches from Taehyungs. 

Tae smiles at you with hooded, amused eyes. 

"Ready, baby?" He asks in a sultry whisper.

You don't have time to answer. All you can do is gasp for breath as you feel Jungkooks swollen head against your opening, rubbing against it, fighting Taes finger for room to enter.

Your entire being becomes filled by them both. You're consumed by the pressure of their hard cocks moving in unison, stretching and stimulating every nerve ending, forcing a deep moan to escape past your pressed lips.

Jungkook’s moans soon harmonize with yours, and Taehyung’s mouth forms a boxy smile of satisfaction at the sound. “I think he likes it as much as you,” he teases from below. But the only response you can manage is another groan as his hands slide to your ass, gripping each cheek and spreading them to allow Jungkook deeper access. 

“I do love a tight ass.” Jungkook growls into your ear, pressing you down, pinning you between their sweaty bodies as you struggle to keep your hips in motion, craving more of the sensation of their cocks moving against each other through your walls.

“Harder,” you cry out, finally able to form a word.

Tae, his hands still spreading your ass open, thrusts up and pulls you forward until he’s buried deep inside, almost forcing Jungkook out of you from within. Your mouth opens in a silent scream of desperation and your hands frantically grab at Jungkook’s solid thighs to keep him in place. 

Tae can’t take his eyes off your gaping mouth, and without notice he slides carefully out of you and from beneath you, leaving you with a hollow feeling until Jungkook’s arm slides around your waist from behind, lifting you, never exiting his conquered domain as he shifts to sit on the bench. He bites softly at your shoulders and back as he pulls each of your legs over his knees and spreads his legs wide, exposing your now empty throbbing pussy to Taehyung.

You stare at Tae standing before you, his glistening cock heavy in his hand as his thumb slides back and forth over the slick, fat head. The sight, along with the feel of Jungkook filling you up is more than you can bear and you reach down to slide your own fingers into the hot wetness between your legs to fill some of the emptiness, but the look in Tae’s eyes says he has other plans.

His accomplice sees his intent and quickly grabs your arms up over your head, holding them together by the wrists with just one large hand while the other hand runs over your breasts, lightly pinching and flicking your hardened nipples. His body never stops moving beneath you as he continues your rhythm. He laughs softly as you unconsciously attempt to pull a hand free to touch yourself with, desperate to relieve the building pressure. 

“You can’t be done yet, beautiful,” Jungkook instructs in your ear, his tongue running along its sensitive edges, making your eyes shut and your head loll back in pleasurable despair. “My friend hasn’t gotten what he really wants yet.”

You feel Taehyung move closer, hovering just outside of your entrance but not allowing contact, the heat of him radiating into you as if he was still inside. You squeeze your eyes closed tighter, enjoying the anticipation of what's to come, but then snap them back open, suddenly desperate to see his gorgeous face as he slides back into you. His boxy, mischievous smile returns as your eyes meet his.

“Please,” you suddenly beg, the plea surprising even you. His smile grows, and just as suddenly he plunges back into you, the friction of their cocks once again sliding against each other through that thin wall, sending shock waves of bliss through your body, and then he is gone again.

Before you can moan a complaint, Jungkook releases your arms and in one swift motion lowers you both to the floor, his pace and depth intensifying. You reach up greedily with one hand and lead Tae’s dripping cock to your ready mouth. Your lips stretch and your jaw aches pleasurably as you take in his girth. He groans loudly for the first time, the sound spurring you on as you take him in deeper than you’ve ever taken a man before.

You can feel the wetness drip from your aching, needy pussy; the taste of Tae and the depth of Jungkook taking you to new levels of ecstasy. You brace your knees and the palm of one hand hard into the rough carpet, ignoring the sting of pain as layers of skin were stripped away.

Jungkook’s hand slides around, three fingers immediately entering you, filling that void you so desperately needed filled. You regretfully release Tae, leaning back into Jungkook as an earth shattering orgasm begins to build within your body, allowing him better access to your opening. Tae quickly covers your open moaning mouth with his as his hand joins Junkook in its mission to push you over the edge. 

You bounce and writhe against the increasing hardness of Jungkook’s cock in your ass and the pressure of his fingers inside of you. You moan into Tae’s devouring mouth and shudder under the weight of his fingers rapidly rubbing your already swollen clit.

The first orgasm had been a mere fraction of what rocketed through your body this time, and both of them grip you tightly as you convulse under their continued attack. At its crescendo you feel Jungkook pull out of both of your holes, pulling you back against him as the warmth of his load spreads between your pressed bodies. Tae slides between your spread legs, forcing them wider, and reinserts himself into your overstimulated swollen cunt. 

Thrusting wildly, his stroke becomes uncontrolled, unpredictable, penetrating deep within your walls. Your orgasm that you thought was over returns with renewed vigor, repeaking, surpassing the crescendo and tumbling you into oblivion.

“Don’t fight it,” Jungkook instructs from behind where he holds you steady, one arm around your waist to anchor you, the other kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples.

Just when you thought you had reached your pleasure limit, Taehyung abruptly pulls out, his cum spurting hot and sticky against your inner thighs, the sweat from his brow dripping onto your breasts as he leans over you catching his breath.

You sag in Jungkook’s arms, unable to move, your muscles spent from the exertion. You can feel the pinging sensation of your nerve endings as they continue to fire off between your legs, like a post orgasm firework display. 

For a long time the three of you lay, spent and exhausted, naked sweaty bodies tangled together, only the sound of your heavy breathing and the hum of the bus breaking the silence. You feel… satiated. You feel euphoric. Your inner goddess is dancing.

Finally Tae stands and reaches out a hand to help you up. As you rise he pulls you to him, kissing you slowly and softly, lingering against your full lips. Jungkook rises behind you and begins to wipe away the mess he left on your back. Tae pulls away and looks into your eyes, his smile affectionately amused.

“There’s a restroom in the back,” he says casually as he releases you and takes a small towel from Jungkook. He pats his sweaty brow and you can only nod in response before sweeping your hot pink dress up off the floor and heading to the small airplane sized bathroom.

When you return they’re both dressed and lounging comfortably, drinks in hand, talking leisurely about nothing at all. And although you’ve all gotten to know one another extremely well tonight, you stand there in an awkward silence, waiting for one of them to notice you.

Tae turns to you first, his smile still amused yet kind at the same time. He approaches you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You look pretty with your hair down,” he whispers, before kissing you lightly on the cheek.

“I like it up,” Jungkook chimes in, “easier to grab onto.” He winks at you from where he still sits and then finishes his drink in one gulp.

You blush, but whether it's because of Tae’s sultry gentleness or Jungkook’s sexy cockiness is yet to be determined.

Jungkook stands and heads toward the door, and only then do you realize the bus is no longer moving. You follow him out, Tae close behind, and the three of you stand looking expectantly at each other on the sidewalk as the bus pulls away.

You can’t let the night end like this. You don’t want the night to end like this. No matter how many times you claimed you had no intention of taking anyone home, you couldn’t have imagined this scenario. There was no way you were letting it end here.

You grab both of their hands and lead them through the front door of your building. Upon entering the apartment, your dress drops to the floor and you head to the shower.

As soon as Tae and Jungkook hear the water running they make their way to you, undressing hastily to join. No words were exchanged as they ran their soapy hands over your body, washing away the remnants of passion, taking special care of the sensitive areas. 

After drying off, they join you in bed, one on each side of you, holding you protectively as you all drift off to sleep together

[peggyao3]

Night Crawler - Pt. 2

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x f!reader / can be read as OC

SUMMARY: Feyd's companion is forced to witness an unfair spectacle and utilizes the means he gave to her to sway the situation.

WORD COUNT: 2,341

TAGS: 18+, smut, graphic descriptions of violence, lactation kink 🍼‼️, pseudo pregnancy, breastfeeding (no baby involved only a big sexy egg man), public breastfeeding, public sex ❗, subby Feyd, she/her reader, AFAB reader, ambiguous relationship status, non-consenting drug use, dark undertones, stockholm syndrome-ish, dubious consent, vaginal sex

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Part 1, Part 2 ↓, Part 3

The human head lands wetly on the stairs and rolls down with a thud thud thud until it comes to rest by the knees of the next supplicant, a middle aged man with thin lips whose muscles are so tense, a vein coils visibly around the curve of his bald head.

“Next!” Feyd-Rautha inspects the blade of his kukri; the edge has lost some of its sharpness in the past hour after splintering spine after spine. Servants scurry by quickly and grab the corpse by the armpits to drag it to the pile where a dozen already lie.

Meanwhile, Feyd’s companion hovers invisibly behind the na-Baron’s chair, observing this unjust spectacle of slaughter. This audience with the na-Baron is a farce. These people walked in the court room thinking they have a fair chance, but the entire function is a killing game. The only who live are those who will die anyway, no matter if their request is granted or not.

“Lord na-Baron.” The thin-lipped man kneels and his badly tailored suit wrinkles around his back. “I am here to humbly request… P-Paid leave from the factory. O-Only for two months, na-Baron.”

“Hmm.” Feyd pretends to ponder and a wave of cautious laughter rolls through the spectators, noblemen and women who draw amusement from the na-Baron’s cruel judgment of the poorer folk. “And what kind of factory would that be, civilian?”

“Bhergshimar Corps, Lord na-Baron. We p-produce supplements for medical products”

“So what do you do there? Stir up some ointments? Is that too hard of a job for you?” More laughter swells in the stands of spectators who are lined up against the walls of the elongated court chamber, framing a corridor of hubris around the waiting line of supplicants.

Feyd’s companion regards the scene with growing unease and sickness in her chest that has nothing to do with her condition. She holds her slightly distended stomach which is a product of the amniotic fluids that gather in her womb despite carrying nothing in there. Another side effect of the drug the Harkonnen Suk Doctor injects her frequently upon Feyd-Rautha’s wish. The faux condition serves no purpose besides his pleasure.

The quivering man elaborates: “C-Certainly not, Lord na-Baron! I would never ask if it weren’t necessary and I haven’t taken a single holiday for the past twenty years, except for your Holy Birthday, of course. I’m a diligent worker. But now my wife has fallen ill and I-” The man struggles for words.

“How touching,” the na-Baron sneers and tightens his grip around the kukri handle. His companion quietly shakes her head. Feyd-Rautha is  a megalomaniac child, playfully cruel. Empathy could never find a grip on his black, slippery heart. An evil soul beyond redemption.

A trickle of warm blood from the corpse pile at the top runs steadily down the stairs and suddenly touches her bare foot. Disgusted, she pulls her toes away, ankle-length skirts swishing. Bile rises in her throat and she cannot suppress the retching sound as she presses a hand further up on her stomach. Feyd turns in his throne-like chair and regards her scrutinizingly, a tilt to his pale head.

“Are you unwell, my darling?”

A rustle rolls through the crowd and every gaze is set on her, one hundred and fifty pairs of coal-black eyes in white-skinned alien skulls. She takes a deep, shaky breath that lifts her plump bosom. Feyd’s gaze dips to her cleavage and a dreamy filter settles over his eyes for but a moment.

“Actually, I am.” She tries to lower her voice to a whisper, but the silence renders the court room into something of an echo chamber.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-” She must tread carefully. He brings her to these court hearings to teach her something about politics and she knows he enjoys the horror in her eyes. Her dread will be no sufficient reason to make him stop. For a second, she meets the pleading gaze of the thin-lipped man. Sweat glistens on his forehead and his fingers are twisted into his palms. She makes the decision then, and it is surprisingly easy. “It has to do with my condition, my Lord.”

Feyd’s ears perk up and he scans her all over. “Would you like to sit?” The crowd whispers and stirs.

“I would… appreciate it. 

“Come here then.” Feyd-Rautha reaches out his hand and she feels the callouses on his palms when she takes it, letting him guide her around the chair and between his legs which he spreads so she can sit on his thigh and lean her side against his chest. “Don’t be shy,” he whispers quietly in her ear and a shiver rolls down her spine. “Get used to the view.”

She settles in his lap, controlling the cringe that creeps up her skeleton when Feyd’s arm slides around her waist and he rubs over her slightly distended belly.

“Now back to you, pathetic civilian.” The na-Baron sneers with midnight teeth. He has shifted the blade to his non-dominant hand, as the dominant one is splayed over her stomach. The poor man’s face pales with dread and he glances at the woman like she is his only hope. His fear hangs over them both like a suffocating veil and she takes a shaky breath.

“Actually, Feyd…?” She whispers quietly to the na-Baron whose gaze sways back to her, a wary edge to his jaws and eyes which can look so pretty in the right light. “I’m so uncomfortable.” She glances down at her own breasts. She doesn’t ask him often. Most of the time it is he who takes, he who crawls over her body and nips at her from ankles to chest until his lips latch around her nipple, no matter if she wants it.

Naturally, his plump lips part at her suggestion and his lashes cast long shadows down his pale cheeks as they lower.

“Now?” He presses his lips back together, briefly glancing towards the spectators. Distinctly, she feels his cock hardening against her thigh.

“Yes. Now.” It is not a request and she confidently unlaces the front of her dress to reveal her left breast. A many-voiced gasp runs through the crowd, but who are they to say a word? Or laugh or leave? This is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the beloved na-Baron of Giedi Prime. If he wishes to drink from a woman’s breast, he will, and his reputation will not be harmed.

By some miracle, Feyd obeys without further question. In front of many eyes, he bows down to her chest and gives into the sweet temptation of humiliation. Hotly, the shame sinks into his pelvis and he subtly bucks against her thigh, moaning quietly when he latches onto her nipple and the first droplets of colostrum spill on his tongue.

Everyone feels the power shift, when the na-Baron’s head bows to reach her breast.

The woman glances over the crowd, noble spectators and lower class supplicants who all see her bare chest. It takes grace to disgrace oneself so fully. She breathes deeply, wincing just slightly because of how greedily Feyd-Rautha suckles. His taller, muscular frame twitches and he reminds her of a prehistoric reptile whose maws are latched onto a carcass. She gives him a minute.

“Don't neglect court, they're waiting for you.” She feigns nervousness and pinches his chin, taking the calculated risk to try and urge him away from her breast. Feyd, as expected, snarls in response and pinches her nipple with his teeth, probably by accident. A slight tremor possesses his jaws as he drinks.

She gives a watery, apologetic smile at the gathered people, and curls her hand around Feyd’s head, scraping her fingers softly over his smooth scalp. Another minute goes by and she knows a certain sleepiness will soon settle in his bones. Cooing softly, she caresses his scalp until her left breast is as good as empty. Carefully, she detaches his mouth from her teat before they reach the stage when she is really empty, which usually sparks anger in Feyd-Rautha until he moves on to the other breast.

With only a little effort, she pries his face away from her chest and smiles at his dreamy black eyes. His features look entirely soft, jaws relaxed. His lashes serm a little damp, which happens from time to time. She’s never commented on it. Feyd-Rautha slowly swivels his head back towards the crowd. A trickle of milk runs down his chin.

“You…” He points at the waiting supplicant. “What was it?”

“T-Two months of paid leave, my Lord.” The man bows deep.

“Only two months? Fine then. Next."

“Thank you, my Lord, oh thank you. Thank you!”

A guard grabs him by the arm and shoves him aside, where the exit gate is. “The na-Baron said next.” 

Perplexed, the man stumbles into freedom and still wordlessly mouths ‘thank you’, eyes locked with the woman in Feyd-Rautha’s lap. Yes, we understand each other, she thinks and sees the man off with an earnest smile.

While she still has milk in her right breast, three more people make it out the exit gate, most of them dismissed with a lazy wave of the hand. She can tell he has lost interest in the supplicants, his little killing game no longer fun. He has even discarded the blood-stained kukri on the side of the seat, so he can grope at his companion better. She can also tell he’s growing needy, the hard ridge of his cock humping against her thigh quicker and more urgently.

Oh well, she thinks as Feyd sifts through her skirts and tugs down his trousers. The crowd may not see how his cock head breaches her and sinks into her pink center that is unprepared save for the slick which always gathers when he drinks from her, but they can very clearly tell from the way he lifts her and her features scrunch up with pain.

It could be much worse. These people could be dead. Briefly he releases her nipple and cups her breast so any spilled droplets land in his palm.

“Next!” Feyd barks, then softly rumbles in her ear. “Ride me, woman.”

How? She is awkwardly seated diagonally in his lap, facing the crowd, barely a way to use her knees or feet for leverage. Still, she tries to please him, more grinding than riding him, but he seems satisfied nonetheless while he continues suckling on her teat. Her cunt is able to relax around Feyd’s obscene girth and more wetness trickles down past her folds and gathers on his trousers.

A knot of arousal somehow grows in her belly and it could either be the compound of artificial hormones or the power she knows she holds over him from inside her gilded prison. Her right breast is empty and Feyd’s hips buck up in frustration, cock slamming against her cervix. She hisses loudly and the sound reverberates from the chamber walls.

“I’ll have more in the evening, you greedy-, ahh!” Black teeth bite her sore nipple and draw a bead of blood. “You just drank all that and dare bite me?!” She hisses quietly, but a few guards in the vicinity can hear her certainly. A grey blush breaks out on Feyd’s cheeks and ears upon being chided. Oh, he should cut her up for that, his kukri lies right there.

But the milk is heavy in his tummy and he is too lazy to move. So, he just nips at her throat, just above the bejeweled metal collar. His bite is softer there, almost apologetic.

Since there is no more milk, she attempts to pull her dress up, but the na-Baron sloppily covers her breast with his hand instead, absentmindedly kneading and pinching the sensitive nubs while his hips thrust upwards with quick rhythm. With his feet planted on the floor, he has the momentum she is missing.

“Don’t cum until we’ve made it through this line.” She gestures at the waiting supplicants who all try to wall up their hopefulness behind a stoic facade, staring at their shuffling feet.

“Why?”

“Because I’m angry at you.”

“Why?!”

“You bit me and it hurt.”

Feyd lets out a rabid snarl and kisses her shoulder, black eyes peering around her neck at the waiting men and women. There are about two dozen left and his hands are wrapped around his Lady, kneading her hip and her breasts. He can make it through two dozen. How long might that take? Five minutes if they speak quickly?

The Lady smiles quietly to herself as supplicant after supplicant leaves through the exit gate and the blade remains untouched, Feyd’s hands busy on her body. She too has a hard time keeping her composure, walls squeezing Feyd-Rautha’s cock until he can barely control the pitch of his voice.

The last supplicant states his humble request and Feyd lets out an unintelligible sound, teeth sinking into her shoulder. His cock throbs palpably against her walls and his hips squirm, a stifled moan in his throat as he holds back.

The supplicant pleadingly looks at the Lady. “What was that?” He asks.

“The na-Baron said yes, your request is granted.” She speaks in Feyd-Rautha’s name and in the same moment the na-Baron climaxes, drooling all over her shoulder as his cock releases inky semen that luckily has no effect on her altered body. 

By the time the last supplicant has staggered out of the audience chamber, happy and alive, the Lady has almost gotten used to the view.

Panting, Feyd mouths against her neck and shoulder, pushing a hand under her dress to catch some of the leaking cum and smear it over her bundle of nerves. Her skirts are partially ridden up. A few noblemen and women might just see her bare cunt and how it still hugs the na-Baron’s cock but for some reason she is not ashamed. It only takes a minute until she comes undone, her reward, because victories don’t have to feel dirty if you accept them with grace

[freyjas-musings]

Trigger Warning ⚠️- Post contains graphic descriptions of Abuse and Harm.

To ,

The literate but uneducated bitch,

I have added some grammar based corrections. This attempt would be a C minus. Try harder next time.

From ,

One of the illiterate bitches mentioned.

[the-moon-devi]

🌺 KLET TALK!! ||Asteroid Klet 😻💗

🔞⚠️🛑TW:THIS INCLUDES EXPLICIT GRAPHICS AND S3XUAL CONTEXT!! READER DESRECTION ADVISED!!

⚠️NSFW❤️‍🔥

♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯ ♀ ☯

I haven't seen many post or descriptions on certain asteroids,( especially s3x ones) and I think it's fun how astrology can tell you how your whole body, mind and soul operates!! WITH THAT BEING SAID WELCOME TO MY SEX ROOOMMM JK LOL!!❤️‍🔥 my aqaurius moon and aries sun is talking! LOL 😂

I'll be descriptive as possible when talking about these asteroids. If your offended or uncomfortable about these things then click off. It's important you keep in mind that I'm going off of my own intuitive mind and my personal wisdom. This is how I think placements would manifest in the physical. BTW I'm always right,🤣  just a disclaimer!!

( da pics from pinterest)

Every vagina is beautiful just as flowers 🌸

♡♡《ASTEROID KLET (2199)》♡♡

♡ TYPE IN ASTRO.COM

♡ PRESS ON THE THREE LITTLE BARS IN TOP SCREEN IT'LL BE ON THE UPPER LEFT CORNER

♡ PRESS ON FREE HOROSCOPES

♡ AT THE VERY BOTTOM PRESS "HOROSCOPE DRAWING & DATA"

♡ PRESS "EXTENDED CHART SELECTION "

♡ TYPE IN BIRTH INFO

♡ SCROLL DOWN TO VERY BOTTOM YOU SHOULD SEE A TEXT BOX (IT SAYS MANUAL ENTRY) ENTER "2199"

♡ SHOW CHART

♡ LOOK FOR KLET IN THE HOUSE, DEGREE, AND SIGN

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀

❤️‍🔥🔞♀️💋KLET is basically feminine sexuality, it can also represent how your vagina might look like certain special features etc. (EACH DESCRIPTION WILL VARY BASED OFF OF ETHNICITY/ GENETICS). I would even associate it with how others perceive your sexuality and how your vagina💦💥 performs during sex. Oh and of course the klet≈clit.🌺 What does it take for her to get stimulated? 🌸💮🍓

KLET IN ARIES ♈:

❤️‍🔥 you could like to take control or you like very dominate partners

❤️‍🔥you are seen as someone who is very sexually active or very sexy in the eyes of others

❤️‍🔥 your sexuality can be quite domineering in the bedroom

Channeled song:

💋your vagina might be warm or either Hella tight because aries is about war and friction it just gives me those vibes for some reason

💋men could get easily intimidated with your vagina

💋 raw and rough sex

💋your vagina may have a red hue to it

💋 big sexual appetite

💋 to get the clit stimulated you might have to use a lot of force

💋 doesn't take long for you to climax

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

KLET IN TAURUS ♉:

🧡 YOUR SEXUALITY IS VERY SENSUAL AND PLEASURABLE

🧡 MONEY & STABILITY COULD LITERALLY MAKE YOU 💦🍦

🧡ATTRACT MEN WHO ARE WEALTHY OR HAVE THE POTENTIAL TO BE

🧡 YOU MOST LIKELY DONT LIKE CASUAL SEX YOU WANT IT WITH SOMEONE YOU COULD BUILD WITH AND WHO IS COMMITTAL

Channeled Song:

🍉 ( could have really pink/brownish hues)

🍉 you might have a more fatty vagina could have more skin like an outie or something like that

🍉 I feel like yall need to get ate out since Taurus rules the mouth and throat

🍉 you are what you eat 👀👀💋

🍉 also you kinda like to be teased and worked up slowly to stimulation

🍉 you might prefer head over intercourse

🍉during sex you like to be kissed as well as your 🐱

🍉might take longer for you to orgasm

🍉 your clit gets stimulated with someone giving you mouth action

🍉 slow and steady wins the race 💦💦

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KLET IN GEMINI ♊

💚 KNA YALL KNOW GEMINI IS THE LOVERS CARD IN Tarot SO STOP TALKING SHIIIII ABOUT GEMINIS

💚 yall have a very youthful young and free teen ager type vibe of sexuality

💚" once you have my mind you got my cookie"

💚you play mind games on men and make them think they gone get sum

💚pure sexuality and curiosity about sex

Channeled Song

Positions-Ariana Grandé

🌱 your vagina could look very new or versatile that's the best way ik how to put it (hope it makes sense 😕)

🌱this sounds weird but give this a try let your partner talk to your 🐱 listen your coochie is a living entity too. So let your partner whisper to her let him blow some air on that kitty 🤭😹 (gemini is a air sign, words of affirmation is key!)

🌱very experimental in sex

🌱changing positions

🌱 I feel like whoever yall have sex with you take a piece of their brain 🧠

🌱 speak affirmations on your womb it could really benefit

🌱 I think yall like an equal give and take in the bedroom

🌱 to stimulate the clit your partner might have to change up their motion if ya know what I mean 😫😌

🌱 clit gets stimulate through being talked through orgasm

Aka I'm here for a good time not a long time- Gemini in klet 🌱

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

KLET IN CANCER ♋:

🌸 "SLIPPERY EXCUSE ME PLEASE ME" 💦💦💦

🌸 "69": BY TEYANA TAYLOR

🌸 YA'LL SEXUALITY IS LIKE I JUST WANT TO LOVE YOU

🌸 ITS GIVING VERY SENSUAL AND CUTE

🌸 MOTHERING TYPE

🌸COULD COME OFF AS CUTESY OR INNOCENT THIS COULD BE APART OF YOUR FEMININE SEXUAL ENERGY

🌸 YALL LIKE YOUR BOOBIES SUCKED ON

🌸 NIPPLE STIMULATION 😮‍💨

🌸 VERY BEAUTIFUL SEXUAL ENERGY AND MOON LIKE

Channeled Songs:

💗your vagina may look very moist

💗fertile looking ?

💗pretty p*ssy fr fr

💗 may get a lot of compliments on how wet it is

💗 may get stimulated when you have an emotional connection with your partner

💗 you definitely don't like casual sex / one night stands

💗 breeding kink ??

💗you might get alot of men who try to get you pregnant on purpose

💗 yall can be freaks ONCE YOU FEEL COMFORTABLE

💗 69 ??

💗 your womb wants to have sex with men who feel like home

💗 p*ssy fairy 🧚‍♂️

💗 typical for yall to have sex with someone you see yourself being married to and having kids with

💗 clit gets stimulated by foreplay & touch ☝🏽

💗they can get turned on when they are able to nurture their partner

💗 Cancerians need someone they feel emotionally secure with but they really are very sexual and once they feel comfortable with you anything you do is a turn on 😫😮‍💨

( this my placement btw)😁💓

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KLET IN LEO ♌:

🐱RAW SEXUALITY

🐱BIG CLIT QUEEN ENERGY 👑

🐱 YOU MAY GIVE OFF PORN STAR VIBES THATS NOT A BAD THING PEOPLE MAY JUST SEE YOU AS VERY BEAUTIFUL AND ATTRACTIVE

🐱 YALL HAVE A PRAISE KINK FASHO

🐱 HAIR PULLING AND A** SLAPPING

Channeled Song:

Private Show - T.I.

💛CASUAL SEX

💛LIKES FLIRTING

💛DEFINITELY GOT SIDE PIECES

💛GOLDEN P*SSY

💛 VERY SHINY & WARM VAGINA

💛 DEFINITELY BEAUTIFULLLLLL

💛 LET THE SUN HIT YOUR VAGINA SINCE LEO IS RULED BY THE SUN

💛YALL HAVE VERY PASSIONATE

💛 yall need to be praised perioddd

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

KLET IN VIRGO ♍:

💙 "THIS P*SSY BOUGIE, THIS P*SSY DONT DO NO FAVORS"

💙 VIRGO VIRGO VIRGO YALL HAVE A VERY WHOLESOME SEXUALITY

💙 LIKE I WONT HAVE SEX WITH YOU UNTIL I KNOW YOUR CLEAN AND HAVE NO STDS

💙BUT IF YOU PROVE TO THEM YOU ARE YOU CAN EXPECT THEM TO REALLY PLEASE YOU 😌

💙VIRGO IS ALL ABOUT SERVICING OTHERS BUT THEY ARE VERY ANALYTICAL ABOUT WHO THEY GIVE THAT SERVICE TO

💙THEY CAN COME OFF AS RESERVED THEREFORE EITHER IT'S LIKE THEY ARE THE ONE THAT CANT BE TOUCHED

Channeled Song

💮ITS TIGHT AND RIGHT

💮 HIGH MAINTENANCE

💮DEFINITELY A PAMPERED KITTY

💮 YALL PARTNERS DEFINITELY LIKE TO DO THE SMALL THINGS TO PLEASE YOU

💮LIKE KISSING YOU AND MAKING SURE YOUR OK

💮 YOU ALSO TAKE CARE OF YOUR PARTNER

💮 CONNECT TO EARTH .

💮YOU MAY GET TURNED ON WHEN YOU SEE YOUR PARTNER WORKING HARD TO PLEASE YOU

💮 A LOT DAILY SEX TOO💛

💮sex could calm the nerves for ya'll

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

KLET IN LIBRA ♎:

🖤THIS IS THE TYPE OF SEXUALITY WHERE YOUR JUST BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE THATS THE VIBE YOU GIVE OFF

🖤 PEOPLE COULD APPROACH WHEN YOU SHOW OFF YOUR FEMININE SIDE

🖤 VERY PRETTY DOWN THERE

🖤 MAYBE PINK OR JUST AN EVEN TONE

🖤 YOU ATTRACT A LOT OF PEOPLE IN GENERAL

🖤IF YOUR LOOKING JUST TO BRING IN SEXUAL PARTNERS EMBODY YOUR LIBRA ENERGY

Channeled Song

🤎 whenever you have sex with partners they probably feel like your yoni is perfect

🤎equal give and take in the bedroom

🤎 I feel like yall get stimulated by a beautiful environmental and feeling appreciated

🤎depending on what degree/house klet is in could give more insight because libra is such a balanced sign

🤎 you don't like it too slow or too fast just in middle to enjoy the act, may be into a lil rough stuff tho....👀

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KLET IN SCORPIO ♏:

❤️ DARK AND SULTRY SEXUAL ENERGY

❤️ FIERY & PASSIONATE

❤️ YALL WANT TO FEEL CONNECTED AND INTENSE DEVOTION

❤️SOME MIGHT SEE YOU AS A MYSETERY OR WONDER WHAT SEX WITH YOU IS LIKE

❤️ SEX WITH ME - RIHANNA IS YALL CHANNELED SONG 💋💦

❤️TABOO/ SEX MAGIC THINGS LIKE THAT

❤️ IF LILITH IS ASPECTJNG THIS YOU MIGHT FEEL EVEN MORE DARKER OR ASHAMED FOR YOU SEXUALITY

❤️ LIKE ARIES PARTNERS MAY EITHER BE INTIMIDATED OR THEY COULD BE INTRIGUED

❤️ DEFINITELY MIGHT HAVE STALKERS AFTER YOU HAVE SEX WITH THEM

Channeled Song

🍒HIGH SEX DRIVE AND CAN EASILY REACH AN ORGASM

🍒DEVOTION IS HOW YOU TURN THESE PEOPLE ON

🍒 BDSM??

🍒KINKS??

🍒RED & PINK HUE TO THE VAGINA

🍒 WET & HOT BECAUSE SCORPIO IS WATER AND OF COURSE HOT BECAUSE THE ORGINAL PLANET IS MARS

🍒 I FEEL LIKE PEOPLE WILL LOOK AT YOU AND KNOW THAT THEYLL BE ADDICTED TO YOU

🍒 IN WORST CASE SOME COULD BE ADDICTED TO STIMULATION

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

KLET IN SAGITTARIUS ♐:

🤍BDE

🤍 I FEEL LIKE YOUR SEXUAL ENERGY EXPANDS AS YOU LEARN

🤍 THE MORE YOU RECIEVE BLESSINGS THE MORE YOU ATTRACT SEXUAL ENERGY

🤍 YOU COULD REALLY BE BLESSED WITH GOOD COOTIE CUZ JUPITER IS HERE AND YOIR CONSTANTLY RECIEVEING

🤍 YOU MIGHT HAVE A BIG CLIT

Channeled Song

🍇 I FEEL LIKE YALL HAVE WATER

🍇MIGHT NOT BE AS TIGHT

🍇 OUTIE

🍇 JUICY & FAT

🍇GETS STIMULATED THROUGH AN ABUNDANCE OF FOREPLAY

🍇 I THINK THESE ARE THE TYPE OF PEOPLE WHERE THEY NEED A LOT TO GET PLEASURE 😌

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

KLET IN CAPRICORN ♑:

🌳 BDE

🌳 daddy energy

🌳I feel like you get turned on when there is a chase to get you

🌳 you may attract partners who have to work to get you

🌳people feel like they have to do what you say

Channeled Song

💐 gets turned on when you see your partner working hard to please you, and when they put in time & effort

💐you may be very determined in the bedroom to please your partner

💐 your vagina may look very intimidating ( take it as it resonates)

💐 very pretty 😺

💐a force to be reckoned with

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

KLET IN AQUARIUS ♒:

👾 you or your partners may be very spontaneous & eccentric

👾 random outbursts of horniness

👾kinky

👾 people may feel like sex with you is different and unconventional

👾raw & real

Channeled Song:

Tumblr wouldn't let me use anymore audio, so here's a link!

S&M - Rihanna

👽your clit gets stimulated when you feel free and on edge

👽you feel sexy when you can be you unapologetically

👽there might be a shocking factor to how your vagina looks

👽 maybe ethereal or something like that

👽open-minded and willing to try new things

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KLET IN PISCES ♓:

🔮 YOUR FEMININE SEXUAL ENERGY COMES OFF AS MYSTICISM, and dreamy.

🔮 people could feel you have healing energy to you and they may feel deeply connected when you have sex

🔮 sex feels emotionally connecting

🪄 your vagina may look dreamy/ enchanting

🪄 since pisces is a water sign you could have a ocean down there 🤭

🪄 you get turned on when you feel spiritually connected to your partner

🪄 you may also enjoy role play

🪄 unconditional love is how you get stimulated

Channeled Song:

P*ssy fairy- Jhené Aiko

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀ ♀

Thanks for reading to the end!

Hope you guys enjoyed this! Tell me your placement, and if you feel it fits the description!

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Catch ya later lovelies! Til' next time!

~𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼 xx💋🤎

𝓕𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵

🔮🪄 ☯ 🔮🪄 ☯ 🔮🪄 ☯ 🔮🪄 ☯ 🔮🪄 ☯ 🔮🪄 ☯

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓓𝓮'𝓛𝓾𝔁𝔁𝓮 (masterlist)

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

©𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵 (Do not copy or steal my work!)

[sodosshame]

Don’t Leave Me Again.

⚠️Warnings: Attempted Sexual Assault, Violence, Blood, Swearing.

Description: You and the group are on a run and stop overnight to rest, but a stranger somehow makes their way in.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

A/N: Please make sure you read the warnings, it’s not too graphic but I don’t want to trigger anyone. Stay safe! And thank you for all the love recently<3 - dixonsarrows

Crash.

I wake up quickly, my heart beating loudly in my chest. Slowly, I stand up and make my way to the door of the room, making sure to not stand on anyone. I poke my head around the door, peaking out.

All of a sudden, I feel someone grab my shoulder and I go to scream but feel a hand slap over my mouth. I look up at the man. A stranger.

How the fuck did he get in here? Where’s Daryl? He’s supposed to be on watch.

I struggle in his grip, trying to work my way out of it. My body thuds against the floor as the man throws me to the ground, still holding his hand over my mouth and the other pinning me down and straddling me with his legs either side. I whimper, trying to make any sound to wake the others.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. I was just gonna rob your group, but after seeing your pretty face..”

The man paused for a second, licking his lips.

“I’m gonna get something else I want.”

With that, he puts a hand around my throat and reaches into his pocket, grabbing a cloth which he then ties around my face, making it into a gag, so I still couldn’t talk. Attempting to scream into the gag, I reach my hand up to try and punch him in the face. He quickly pulls a knife to my throat.

“I said shut up. You try anything and I’ll slit your fucking throat.” He muttered, his voice laced with venom.

The man briefly lifts his hips up to attempt to unzip his pants and I take the opportunity to lift up my knee and whack him in the balls, making him fall to the side.

“Fuckin’ bitch, you’re gonna get it now.” He grunts, attempting to get on top of me once again.

Luckily, I was already knelt on one knee, so I somehow manage to shove him away and stand up. Before I know it though, he’s got me pinned against the wall, one hand around my throat and the other still clutching the knife. Struggling to breath, I attempt to knee him in the balls again; but this time he only moves slightly to the side, but enough for me to bring my hand up grabbing the knife by the blade. I wince as I feel it digging into my hand. In a split second, I whack my head against his, causing him to stumble back and let go of my neck, his grip loosening enough on the knife for me to grab it- flicking it round so the handle is in my hand.

Using all my body weight, I slam him against the wall and on instinct, I plunge the knife into his neck, taking it out and doing the same thing again- blood splattering all over me and up the wall. He slumps to the floor and I stumble back, dropping the knife and slowly bringing my hands up to untie the gag.

“Y/N? What the fuck ‘appended?” I hear Daryl’s panicked voice along with his thumping footsteps.

I can’t move, my feet stuck in place and my eyes stuck on the man I just stabbed. The man. Not a walker. But a man.

I feel Daryl’s hands on to tops of my arms and I jump, looking up at him.

“I- He was gonna-”

He pulls me into a tight hug. His strong arms wrapping around my currently fragile body.

“‘s’okay. Ya did what ya had to.” He mumbled against my hair, not letting go of me.

“I- I killed him.” I mumbled, feeling completely numb.

“He was gonna r-” I can’t even finish the sentence as I attempt to swallow the sob I feel rising in my throat.

“Don’t ya dare feel guilty about killin’ that motherfucker, Y/N. Ya had to, alrigh’?” He says as he pulls away, holding me at arms length to study me.

Scanning my body for any marks, his eyes land on bleeding hand. He pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket and gently wraps it around my hand- enough to stop the bleeding with it not causing more pain.

“W-where was y-you, Daryl?” I mumble, trying to stop my voice shaking.

“‘m’so sorry, Y/N. I was patrollin’ round, I never even realised. Shit, I’m sorry.” He responded, bring his hand up to rest on my cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear.

Suddenly, I hear the door the room behind us open, Rick’s voice ringing out.

“What happened? Is everyon-” He started.

“How tha fuck did none of ya wake up?! Y/N almost got fuckin’ killed!” Daryl suddenly yelled, taking his hands from me and pointing accusingly at Rick.

“You were the one on watch-”

“STOP.” I yelled, interrupting the soon-to-be argument.

“Just stop. I- I handled it.” My voice reduces to a whisper at the end of my sentence.

Reaching my arm out, I tug on Daryl’s sleeve, trying to get him closer to me. I hear him sigh as he steps back towards me and embraces me in a hug once again, gently kissing the top of my head.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, darlin’.” He mumbles quietly, his hand rubbing circles on my back.

“J-just.. please don’t leave me again.” I mutter, my voice breaking.

“‘M’kay.” He responds, hugging me tighter.

[final-girl96]

ANNOUNCMENT

I miss Stu, so I am writing another Stu x Reader. It won't be out until I have a decent amount of chapters to post. Here's all the details so far!

Disclaimer - I do NOT own the Scream franchise. I do NOT own any of the characters, plot, or dialogue. I only own the characters I make up along with any plot and dialogue.

MINE

Stu Macher x Reader

READ THE WARNINGS/TRIGGERS! IF SOMETHING ON THAT LIST BOTHERS YOU, THEN PLEASE DO NOT READ! THIS STORY WILL FALL UNDER DARK ROMANCE! IT WILL BE A LITTLE FUCKED UP! THIS IS JUST FANFICTION! IT'S NOT REAL! ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN! THINGS MIGHT GET ADDED TO THIS LIST. EVERYTHING ON THIS LIST MIGHT NOT SHOW UP.

⚠️WARNINGS/TRIGGERS⚠️

Strong Language

Adult Content

Blood and Gore

Murder

Attempted Murder

Graphic Descriptions

Billy Loomis (Self Explanatory)

Stu Macher (Self Explanatory)

Mine (Stu thinks…knows yn is his.)

Possessive Behavior

Obsessive Behavior

Touch Her & Die (lots of people will die)

Bullying (probably in the beginning. Maybe? I don't know. But I'm putting it on here.)

Anxiety (A little. It's expected when you're being stalked and shit)

Stalking (Stu has many issues)

Choking (Pleasure & Attempted Murder)

Abuse (mentally, physically, emotionally). Stu doesn't purposefully hurt yn, but sex can get rough, and he can get out of control with his anger sometimes. But I wanted to put it in here to safe)

Dub-Con (dubious consent - Situations where consent is dubious or unclear, falling somewhere between rape and consent) (Google)

CNC (Consensual non-consent - kinks, popularized by the BDSM (bondage, discipline, sadism, masochism) community, involve consensual, intense role-play of one individual consensually sexually assaulting another. (Google)

Rough Sex (Spanking, Choking, Hair Pulling, Handcuffs, Being Tied Up, Biting, gagged, etc…)

Unprotected Sex (She IS on birth control)

Anal (Maybe)

Cock Warming (maybe)

Semi- Public & Public Sex

Fingering

Oral (both receiving)

Knife Play (Maybe? It'll be Stu's thing. And it won't be a little if I do put it in)

Jealousy (Stu doesn't like when other men touch “What's his”)

[marvelsswansong]

perfectly poisonous pair

summary: the three times Coriolanus realizes you're his perfect match, his eternal soulmate: darkness and all.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and dark soft!Corio with equally unhinged reader (an anon previously said morticia x gomez addams vibes), fluff, violence, non-canon compliant, CW for graphic descriptions of violence, kidnapping, murder, possessive/dark thoughts - please take care of yourself first!

☆ word count: 6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Marriage is, at first instance to Coriolanus, an institution and an act that he doesn't quite see the point of.

The legal and financial benefits, sure. But committing himself to one person, to be bound to them body, heart and soul for the rest of his life? That level of vulnerability and permanence feels too foreign. Too abstract, even, that thinking about it quickly makes his stomach churn with sickness.

Coriolanus spends the majority of his upbringing, consoling himself that he doesn't have the time to worry about such things as romance. After all, there was always the next bill to pay and the next threat of eviction to dread.

Not to mention, he thinks, no one will truly ever get him. Not even grandma'am or Tigris understands his inner being. The man deep within his guts, the cunning voyeur who enjoys violence and manipulation. And if they only knew, he believes, they'd be horrified.

No one really knows Coriolanus for who he is. And no one will truly be able to understand what it's like to feel and think like him.

So marriage is completely out of the question for him.

At least for a long time.

Until he meets you.

------------------------------

the beginning: "must be a coincidence."

You're the first person (other than the wide-eyed idealist, Sejanus) to treat Coriolanus with kindness at the academy.

You come in as a transfer student mid-way through the semester and he comes to notice the small ways with which you show your appreciation for him. Slyly backing up his answers in class discussions. Smiling at him in the hallways. Sticking up for him in conversations, not caring if the others give you odd looks for defending a 'clear outsider' amongst them.

"If you ever need anything, you can always count on me." you'd once told him after school, his knees barely brushing against yours in the car you've invited him into so that he wouldn't have to walk home in the freezing cold.

Suppressing the urge to interrogate the reasoning behind your kindness, his numb fingers felt sudden warmth when you delicately placed a crumbled up note into his fist with your address in it.

"Stop by whenever you need something. Don't suffer alone, okay?"

He never takes you up on your offer.

At least, not until a few months later, when he finds himself knocking on your door late at night. Three in the morning to be precise, with a busted lip and dark red stains blossoming across his white shirt.

And when you open the door, you don't react to his disheveled state in the same way he'd expect from his family. No pity and shock like grandma'am, nor is there a trace of light apprehension and fear like there would be from Tigris.

Instead, your eyes crinkle with kindness as you invite him inside your home and sit him down on a nearby chair in the living room.

"How bad is it?" you ask, cutting him off with a stern glare before he can lie. "And don't lie to me, Snow. I need to know if you're going to need a drive to the hospital instead of my attempts at first aid."

Sighing, the blonde gives in, his bones aching too much to put up a fight.

"Not that bad, I promise." he grumbles, trying to keep his breathing normal as you lean in closely to examine his injuries. At this proximity, he can see the reflection of the overhanging yellow lights in your irises, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration before you leave the room and return with a soft towel and warm bowl of water.

"Could you look up for me?" you question, your cold fingers steadying his neck to carefully crane it upwards.

The warm, wet fabric in your hands then trace the edges of his jaw, picking up the droplets of blood scattered across his face.

Keeping his eyes forward at the line of bookshelves by the fireplace, time seems to slow down. His senses are overwhelmed by your hairwash - rosemary and vanilla, he thinks - and the room is awfully quiet. All he can hear is the muted sounds of your soft breaths and the rustling of leaves outside, the pale moonlight creeping in through the gaps of the floral curtains in the dead of December.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" you ask, now switching your attention to the trail of blood buried into the crevice of his neck. You cringe right afterwards, almost wincing at your audacity. "Sorry, you don't have to say if you don't want to."

If anything, it just makes him smile. He likes seeing you embarrassed, he thinks.

"No, it's fine. I'll say. It was just... a party gone awry. Felix managed to convince everyone to go downtown."

You frown at the mention of the downtown area - it was common knowledge that it wasn't safe to wonder the south of the Capitol this late at night, especially if you were obviously from central.

"And then?"

"Got jumped. Felix and his friends ran away quickly. Sejanus got caught up in the mix and I couldn't just... leave him."

Coriolanus hates admitting the slightest sign of weakness, that perhaps he had a friend he cares for, so he's eternally glad that you don't dwell on it. Humming in response, you squeeze the towel in your hands, the water below now a murky shade of brown.

"And how much of this blood is your own? Do I need to get the sewing needles out?"

"I-"

His response is staggered by brief flashes of the fight playing in his mind. He recalls there being a lot of heavy breathing and fast movements. A slash there. A broken nose there. His feet driving down onto the man's chest repeatedly, down, down, down - he hears bones cracking at some point and Sejanus is suddenly pulling him backwards, begging him to stop but Coriolanus can't-

"Coriolanus."

Your voice snaps him out from his dazed state. He then swallows nervously, not knowing how much is safe to disclose.

"I'm fine. Really. Just some bruises and a split lip. The blood is from dodging a few knife attacks and the criminals stabbing one another."

It's a half-truth, really. Coriolanus had dodged a few stabs his way, but only because he tripped the man charging him and grabbed the knife instead to drive it into the man's sides. Enough to severely wound, but not kill. He feels the soles of his left shoe drag on the floor, the fabric nearly coming off from the repeated force with which he'd stepped on the other accomplice's ribs. It makes his jaw clench with embarrassment.

If you notice it's a lie, you don't say anything.

You ask him if he can undress, so that you can wash his clothes for him. After all, you tease in a lighthearted manner in an attempt to lift the mood, you still have school tomorrow at eight.

"You can leave the dirty clothes hanging by the chair outside the bathroom. I think you're overdue for a long, hot shower."

All arguments die in Coriolanus' mouth when he realizes how nice this feels. The foreign comfort of being cared for by someone else, of having his guard down and following someone else's lead for once. So he wordlessly follows you to the bathroom in the back and discards of his dirtied clothes outside.

The hot water is a nice luxury, the scalding temperature starting to erase his memories of the fight. He rubs his scalp raw and watches the water beneath his feet fade into the drain, the steady dripping of water droplets calming his mind.

When the blonde finishes, he comes out and sees that you've folded a set of new, clean clothes for him by the door of the bathroom (your father's old clothes, he learns). Once changed, he wanders outside and finds you hanging the freshly washed clothes outside on your front lawn.

"You should go home, Corio." you say quietly. "Your cousin and grandmother must be worried sick." you look back at him, a reassuring smile on your face.

"How... how can I ever repay you for all this?" he finds himself asking, desperate for an answer. Surely, you'll want something back for this. Certainly, this was all to get something back from him-

You shake your head sideways, waving your hand in dismissal.

"There's no need to repay me. I like to think you help me out every day at school, so think of this as more of... a much delayed gift."

Once you're both back inside the house, no longer shivering from the cold, he finds the silence to be oddly tense. You're in your sleepwear, after all, a silky night dress stopping right above your knees with a gray knit cardigan on top.

He swallows, nervously. He hopes you can't tell how fast his heart is beating.

"Uh, thank you. Seriously. I owe you."

"You really don't."

"I really do."

You roll your eyes playfully.

"The only person who owes me anything is Felix. He shouldn't have suggested you all go to downtown when it's dangerous, and he especially shouldn't have left you and Sejanus to nearly get stabbed to death." you spit, and your angry expression makes him chuckle.

"Ah, well, but he is the president's son. What can we do." he jokes. A small grin flickers onto your lips for half a second at that comment.

"So he is. Good night, Corio. I'll see you tomorrow."

It's initially an uneventful day for Coriolanus the next morning when he walks into the academy, naturally catching your eyes from across the room. You give him a reassuring nod from behind the door of your locker, where the majority of your attention is being held up by an overeager Felix - your assigned partner for the week.

Due to his schedule, Coriolanus doesn't see you again until lunch time. By which the newest rumor sweeping the academy has been the sudden violent illness which has fallen upon the president's son.

"I heard he was puking blood." he hears Clemensia whisper to Arachne, who nods furiously.

"Sejanus had to carry him to the medic's office - Felix looked like a half-dead ghost."

He's itching to speak to you as he quickly rounds the corner and runs up the flights of stairs leading to the library, where he's shared many lunches with you before. He knows your favorite sport by heart, that being the cozy seat under the large arched windows overlooking the front lawn.

As expected, he finds you there, sitting cross legged and gazing out towards the lawn. Upon closer inspection, he sees that you're watching Felix get escorted into a dark vehicle, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Have you heard that Felix is sick?" Coriolanus carefully asks, sitting down from across from you. You turn to him, your face scrunching up in sadness.

"Yes I have. Terrible news, really. Something about nasty nausea and uncontrollable vomiting."

Your tone is sympathetic and your face has all the features of genuine worry, but there's a small twinkle in your eyes that indicates a secret.

It makes Coriolanus delirious with want.

"And would his illness have anything to do with you being close to him as his project partner?" he questions, sliding in closer towards you to keep his voice down.

He looks down at your lips then back up at you, smirking.

"Just seems strange, don't you think? Given that he seemed just fine last night?"

A half-second smile, you shrug.

"Must be a coincidence."

He kisses you right then and there.

---------------------------------------

the point of no return: "you're quite a messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Finding you is a miracle to him.

And now that you two are officially dating, he sees the glimmer of hope for something permanent like marriage in the future.

But Coriolanus is still unsure of the publicity of that kind of arrangement, which leads him to request that you two keep the relationship under wraps. At least until graduation, he justifies, to keep the romance hidden away from the judging eyes of the faculty and fellow classmates.

You don't seem the least bit bothered by the news, your lips only quirking up into a warning smile as you tease that you may then have to bring other men as dates to public events to save face.

At the time, he'd just shrugged at that, playing it cool. "I don't get jealous easily." he'd said confidently.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It's only after he becomes your boyfriend that he becomes acutely aware of and sensitive to how desirable you are to others. Visitors to the academy flirt with you openly, not knowing that Coriolanus is watching from the background, fuming with anger. Your male classmates are too eager to carry your books for you, their body leaning ever too close towards yours when you ask them to pass on the papers in class.

But this, right now, seeing you with another man at the spring gala... It feels different.

Those people, the strangers and classmates, you let down firmly but gently. Those people, you wouldn't even let their hands hover above your skin, always placing a firm distance between you and them. Those people-

Fuck.

You didn't smile at those people like you're smiling at this date of yours. The tall, dark haired man's arm is lingering just above your waist, too close for Coriolanus' comfort, and his thoughts turn lethal when the man leans down to whisper something in your ear that seemingly makes you laugh.

It takes everything within him to not lose control then, when Sejanus speaks up.

"You alright?"

His friend's voice cuts into the tirade of violent thoughts playing in Coriolanus' mind, the whiskey starting to taste sour in his mouth. Forcing another sip of alcohol, he meticulously coaches himself to nod along, feigning disinterest in you and the mystery man.

"Just fine, Plinth." he grits out, but with his steely blue orbs not deviating from where you and your date are standing, it's obvious to any bystander that he's lying. So Sejanus chuckles, nudging the blonde playfully.

"Yeah right. Though, I'm not surprised that (Y/n) brought him along." Sejanus takes a sip of his wine, before pausing at seeing the blonde's expression remain hardened. "You do know who he is, right?"

"Am I supposed to?" Coriolanus scowls.

"That's Harrison Bramford. His grandfather was one of the main generals back in the days of the war and his family single-handedly leads the weapons manufacturing industry in Panem."

"Hm." is all Coriolanus says in response, the revelation doing little to appease his anger. His left arm rises in a reflex to force more alcohol down his throat, only to find the glass half empty.

"I need another drink." he announces, not caring to hear his friend's response.

Sliding into the bar, he hears your soft laugh and whisper before you disappear into a nearby hallway, leaving your 'date' alone. Out of the corner of Coriolanus' eyes, whilst he leans forwards and pretends to watch the bartender grabbing him another glass of whiskey, he sees the tall dark haired man also beelining towards the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks." Harrison growls, nearly slamming his glass down onto the counter. It's only then that Coriolanus lets himself look into the man's light green eyes, taking care to keep his expression fairly neutral and his voice calm.

"Rough night?" Coriolanus asks, deciding to play the unassuming role of a concerned stranger. Harrison chuckles, wiping his hands on his thighs whilst shaking his head.

"You have no fucking idea. Women are such pieces of work."

The blonde tastes blood with how hard he bites his cheek in an effort to stay silent.

"Your whiskey, sir."

He's grateful for the interruption of the bartender sliding his drink down towards him, as with every word leaving your date's mouth, Coriolanus is feeling his rage boiling and threatening to spill over like toxic waste.

"This chick asked me to come here tonight, you know? Me. A Bramford. I put up with her annoying stories and stupid questions all night, I even held her fucking bag for her to go to the bathroom." the man rants, his skin starting to twinge red with how fast he was speaking. "But will she even let me kiss her? Nooooo. Apparently it's too quick. Wouldn't even let me grab her ass."

It's then that your boyfriend finally loses it, and there's a muted sound of something shattering and the feeling of something sticky and hot running down his right hand. There's a few gasps of shock, the bartender hurrying over with a spare napkin as Coriolanus' blue eyes adjust to the blurry scene in front of him.

He's shattered the glass in his hand.

"Shit, you alright?" Harrison asks, leaning over to see and then pulling back with a disgusted expression after seeing the bloody sight. Remaining calm whilst pulling out the chunks of glass, Coriolanus chooses to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yep. Sorry, not used to..." he pauses, trying to find the right excuse. Instead, he finds a brilliant plan. "Not used to going so long without smoking."

The dark haired man nods in agreement, seemingly sympathizing.

"Ah, I get you. Nasty withdrawal symptoms, huh? Seen a lot of my buddies get them whenever they try to quit smoking."

Securing the makeshift tablecloth wrap around his injured hand, Coriolanus pushes his chair in with his legs, his uninjured hand strategically reaching into his pockets.

"I think I need a cigarette. Care to join?" he asks, already knowing the answer from the overwhelming scent of cigarettes spayed over the man's clothes.

"Why not."

Suppressing a smile, the blonde leads the drunken man out the door and far away from the venue, down a few shady alleyways and into narrow dirty streets crowded by graffiti and trash bags.

"Uh... you sure this is the right way?" the man behind nervously asks, and Coriolanus almost wants to roll his eyes at how pathetic he finds the man's fear.

"Don't worry, Bramford. Just avoiding the 'no smoking' signs and security guards by the venue."

Once the blonde is sure that they're both sufficiently far away from the venue, at a dead end alleyway sandwiched between a run down bike shed and abandoned dumpsters, he stops in his tracks. Coriolanus then uses the split second of confusion felt by the other man to strike him directly in the chest, forcing the taller man's entire body down.

Grabbing the nearest object next to him - a wooden crate- Coriolanus smashes it into bits on the man's head, whose face is now pressed up against the dirty cement.

"You absolute piece of shit." Coriolanus swears, adrenaline pumping through his veins in irregular rhythm as his boot kicks into the pained man's ribs repeatedly. "You disgusting, vile, privileged piece of shit."

Each insult is compounded by a stronger kick, the three glasses of whiskey and pure rage emboldening his thoughts and strengthening his attacks. Coriolanus thinks he may have heard a bone or two cracking, but he isn't sure. He can't even bring himself to care, not when his mind's fixation switches to the enticing sight of a broken glass bottle laying to his right, the jagged scars glistening under the moonlight. Coriolanus snatches it up in half a second, before pressing the edges of the makeshift blade against the whimpering man's throat.

"W-why are you doing this?" Harrison barely gets out, mouth already filled with blood, his gasps stuttered in pain.

The blonde only chuckles, his left knee coming down to press the man further into the ground, right hand beginning to trace the edge of the glass down the man's neck.

"Because, Bramford. You denigrated the love of my life. You dare try and place your filthy hands on her. Hell, for the crimes of your family and your disgusting behavior tonight, I should do the Capitol a favor and ki-"

"That's enough, Corio."

Your boyfriend nearly drops the bottle in his hand out of shock at hearing your voice ring out from behind him, the development so unexpected that for a second he almost wonders if he's hallucinating. But no, when he tilts his head backwards, he sees as clear as day you standing there with an amused grin on your face.

"Darling, I-" Coriolanus begins, stepping back up carefully and setting the glass bottle aside (but far away from Harrison's reach).

You just shush him, that ever-so-understanding twinkle in your eyes, your heels clicking on the uneven cobblestone as you stand with your body right up against his.

"I warned you about this, you know." you sigh. Coriolanus frowns, confused.

"What?"

"That you'd be jealous. He's just a toy, love. Nothing happened nor was ever going to happen tonight." you assure him, taking his uninjured hand in yours and squeezing it in comfort. You frown at the sight of his other bloodied hand, but he waves it off as an explanation for a later time.

"It's not that I don't trust you, petal. It was just... this scumbag was speaking about you in a revolting manner. I just couldn't contain myself." he slowly explains, a mix of guilt for being caught and anger for not being able to finish his actions creeping in. "He deserved it."

"Not denying that, love." you assure him again, smiling. "But goodness... What a mess you've made. You're quite the messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Coriolanus then can only watch, mesmerized, as you walk up next to Harrison's squirming body on the floor. Crouching down next to the man, you tut, as if you're saddened by the sight in front of you.

"Here's what's going to happen. We'll do you the favor of making it looking like you had too many drinks and got robbed. We'll take your wallet and expensive jacket. You'll survive, only a few major injuries but nothing life-threatening, and that's the story you'll tell your father and his friends." you pause, letting out another sigh, as if explaining this whole ordeal is tiring you. "In return, I will keep quiet about your nasty drug addiction to your father. One more strike and you're out, as your daddy said, so let's not aggravate him further. Deal?" you ask, smiling sweetly.

When the man stays silent, only letting out pained breaths in response, your right hand snaps out to press his face further into the concrete.

"I said, do we have a fucking deal, Bramford?"

Coriolanus finds himself completely transfixed by the attractive sight playing out in front of him: your pretty face scrunched up in fury, your delicate fingers dipped in blood as the man beneath you pathetically sobs and agrees. You then smirk, harshly dropping the man's head back down. Your boyfriend is by your side immediately, taking off the man's jacket as you pocket the wallet, your eyes finding Coriolanus' once more.

"I think I'm in love with you." the blonde confesses, the words coming out faster than he'd anticipated. It's a mix of things that causes the sudden confession, the adrenaline from having beaten a man nearly to death, the way your hair is being caressed by the harsh winds, the smell of your sweet perfume mixing with the harsh stench of copper in the air...

It's all making him dizzy and lovesick.

But all you do is roll your shoulders back and chuckle, kissing him quickly on the lips.

"I know."

But, Coriolanus thinks, you can't know - the real depths of his love, the unbridled fire now lapping at his skin, the overwhelming desire to claim you as only his.

And when he finally comes back home, he digs through his cabinets and finds the family ring. Swallowing thickly, he stores it in a small jewelry box and tucks it right underneath his bedroom's windowsill.

One day, he knows. He'll marry you.

----------------------------------------

the final act: "sorry for worrying you."

He'd meant to propose sooner.

He really did.

But then the games happened, his victory came with the assistant position to Dr Gaul and a full ride scholarship to university from the Plinths, and you'd be called away to District 2 to assist on your family's business operations.

Coriolanus missed you, fiercely. No amount of blurry phone calls and monthly visits lasting no more than the short weekend could satisfy his ache for you. Your melodic laugh. Your soft touch. Your witty observations and jokes, your soft breathing on his chest when he'd hold you at night.

But it's necessary, you'd remind him, lips trailing across his cold skin. It was how you and him were going to conquer the Capitol. Together.

On an assuming Tuesday in April, on the day you were due to arrive in time for Tigris' birthday, the phone rang in the mansion. The housekeeper, mid-way through dusting the library in preparation for your arrival, had come running into Coriolanus' room without even knocking. He'd woken up bleary eyed, a few swear words of annoyance on the tip of his tongue, all of which dissipated upon seeing the alarmed look on the housekeeper's face.

"It's for you, sir. Says it's urgent."

Brows furrowing, but not thinking anything much, Coriolanus answers the phone.

"Coriolanus Snow speaking." he mutters into the receiver, eyes still foggy from the remnants of sleep. The voice on the other end chuckles, a dark and pompous sound which makes him scowl in annoyance.

"Mr.Snow... when was Miss (L/n) set to arrive in the Capitol?"

The sinister question jolts the blonde awake immediately, a quick glance at the clock hanging by the door confirming his worst fears. It was four am, at least three hours past the time you were set to arrive.

"Is this a ransom call?" Coriolanus growls into the phone, his fingers clutching the receiver so tight his knuckles were beginning to redden. Teeth aching with how tensely he's clenching his law, his frantic eyes find the housekeeper's worried ones, before he urgently signals for the older woman to fetch the guards roaming the front of the property.

The stranger on the other side only chuckles in response, clearly gleeful at the distressed sound of Coriolanus' voice.

"I'm not sure, Mr. Snow. Would you like to perhaps ask her instead?"

The string of curses and violent threats bubbling under his throat never get spoken when he hears the sudden shuffling of feet and muffled arguing on the other side of the phone, before your voice fills his anxious ears.

"Hi, Corio."

Huh.

You seem awfully relaxed for someone taken as hostage.

Yes, he recalled having numerous discussions with you about such a scenario occurring once Coriolanus' status was elevated in the Capitol and you'd agreed to take on some share of the family business. And your boyfriend also knew that you'd grown up training in archery and fencing, so it wasn't as if you were wholly unprepared to defend yourself.

But still, it shocks him how your voice is completely aloof and calm, with even a hint of a smile at the end of your sentences.

"Hi, darling. Are you alright?" he carefully responds, pondering if you are perhaps being held at gunpoint and forced to speak in an unnatural manner. But you just hum in response, the same noise you'd make if he'd asked you something simple like what you wanted on your toast, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just don't forget to water the lilies, they get very temperamental this time of the year. Wouldn't want a repeat of last April, now would we?" you joke, and Coriolanus feels himself slightly relaxing into the conversation.

"Of course not."

"And don't forget you promised me pancakes the moment I came back to the house. I've been missing your banana pancakes dearly."

He can almost picture your smile at that comment.

"Well then... you should hurry back soon." he calmly responds, only for the phone to then be ripped away from you and the stranger's voice returns - grating and aggravated. Coriolanus can tell that your kidnapper is frustrated and dumbfounded by your seemingly calm disposition and mundane conversation with your boyfriend, a revelation which fills him with great satisfaction.

"If you still want her alive, leave a suitcase of $20,000 by the coordinates sent to you. You have two hours."

As if on cue, the housekeeper rushes back in with a note - tied to a bird sent over to the house, she says - and the security team behind. Unravelling the coordinates written onto the piece of paper, and looking back at the clock, Coriolanus' mind whirls with endless possibilities.

Explaining the situation in brief, he directs three of the guards to go out into the location with a briefcase loaded with fake cash - one to drop off the bag, the other two to keep extensive watch to see who picks it up. The other two, he commands to stay by watch at the house.

Sitting in an unmarked van whilst staring at the spot where his security guard had placed the suitcase, Coriolanus' leg won't stop bouncing up and down.

He's riddled with anxiety and doubt, hating himself for being unable to protect you, worrying about your whereabouts. As even if you sounded awfully calm and capable on the phone, a part of him can't help but wonder if that was all for show, to prevent him from worrying too much.

A torturous hour passes before Coriolanus gets a call from the housekeeper.

"Sir, she's home."

He nearly drops the phone.

"What?"

"Miss (Y/n) is home. She is sitting in the kitchen, having a cup of tea as we speak."

It's a blur as Coriolanus commands the car to race back towards the house, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he bursts through the doors of the main hallway.

And there, calm as ever with a light grin on your face, is you.

You're sitting in his favorite velvet cushioned chair by the dining table. Your face smeared with blood, your clothes are torn and hanging in loose threads, and your hair is wet, red crimson droplets falling onto the floor in steady drips. And as the sun rises over the estate, the golden light illuminates your hairline and Coriolanus swears he sees a halo above your bloodied form.

"Hi, love. Sorry for worrying you."

Without a single word, he rushes over to you and nearly yanks you up to a standing position, backing you up against the wall to kiss you fiercely. Your knees almost buckle from the force with which he grabs your neck, his shaky breaths so desperate, his hooded eyes still looking into yours as his left hand suddenly shows a ring box in his hand.

"Marry me, darling."

You blink twice, surprised at the sudden action, as he chuckles and laces his fingers with yours - blood on blood.

"We're perfect for each other. You are my soulmate, my perfect pair: body, heart and soul. Truthfully, I've had the ring with me for almost two years now, but it never felt... quite right." he pauses, taking in your shaky, happy smile. Your cold hands warming in his embrace. "Not until now. You're the one for me."

"Even if I bleed all over your kitchen?" you croak, as he slides the cool metal onto your ring finger, before kissing your bruised knuckles.

"Especially if you bleed over my kitchen. As long as it's not your own blood, of course."

It's you who closes the gap this time, nearly tackling him with the force with which you kiss him, arms encircling around his back. Smiling into the kiss, he tastes the mix of your strawberry lipgloss and the metallic hint of blood on your lips, an intoxicating combination.

When you two finally part for air, the silver band now glistening on your ring finger, Coriolanus chuckles.

"Now, would you like those banana pancakes?"

------------------------------------------

epilogue: "nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

"I think I'm starting to see a gray hair. on you, Corio."

Your husband scowls at the playful joke in the bedroom mirror, standing up to straighten his tie as you get changed in the walk-in closet.

"Please, I'm barely 30. Are you sure you're not hallucinating, darling?" he fights back, and you peek out half-dressed from the closet, pouting.

"You're questioning my eyesight now? How could you be so cruel."

Your faux sour expression is quickly kissed away by two cold hands cupping your cheeks, and you would've lost the balance in your heels had he not steadied you immediately, his hands dropping to your waist.

"Aw, I'm sorry, petal. Will you ever forgive me?"

You pretend to think about it, cocking your head sideways.

"That would depend."

"On what?"

"Mom! Dad!"

Your snarky response is cut off by the sound of small feet pattering on the marble floor, the front doors swinging open as a small figure runs straight to you and crashes into your legs. A spitting image of you and Coriolanus, your daughter, looks up from your knees before grasping onto her father's hand.

"Up, please."

Clearly amused by the sudden burst of energy in the room and his daughter's politeness even in moments of silliness, he crouches down and picks up the squealing child who comfortably settles into his arms.

"Guess what."

"What is it, honey?" you ask, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes.

"I got the highest score in my entire class on my math test."

"Wow, that's incredible, sweetheart." Coriolanus practically melts on the spot, bouncing the child up and down as she giggles into his neck. "You are the smartest person ever, Belle."

"Not as smart as mommy." she sasses in response, looking up at you for approval. You coo, ruffling her hair affectionately before looking up at your husband with raised eyebrows.

"See, Corio? Even our daughter is kinder to me than you are."

He rolls his eyes in response, left hand sneaking out to pull you in close as his lips kiss the top of your head.

"Nonsense. I love both my girls equally." he says, only for the picture perfect moment to be interrupted by another figure rushing into the room.

"Mrs Snow, the car's just arrived for you by the fr-" the intern freezes in his steps, having clearly caught the Snow family at a private time. You of course don't mind, just being amused by the situation, and your daughter is just curious at the new person who just walked in. All the while, Coriolanus' reaction couldn't be more different, his glare sharp and mean.

"I thought I made it clear, I don't want to ever be disturbed when I'm with my family. Unless it's an absolute emergency." Coriolanus states, his tone icy and unforgiving.

By the furrowing of his eyebrows and the cold stare in his eyes, you can already anticipate the flurry of murderous thoughts filling his head before you cut in. After all, the interrupting intern, a 17 year old boy by the name of Elijah, is only trying his best. And you find him oddly endearing and sweet, particularly with how badly he tries to impress your husband.

"It's fine, Elijah. Please ignore my husband's rude comment. I'll be right out."

Setting your daughter down, Coriolanus leans forward and growls into your ear, watching the young boy scatter away quickly.

"You're too nice to him, darling. Don't you think we should dispose of him and get a new intern...."

You slap his shoulder.

"What do I always tell you? No need to create unnecessary messes. Besides, he's really good with Belle and easy to control."

He smirks at that, irises filled pink.

"You're probably right. Can't have another bloody mess on your hands to clean up."

"Or vice versa."

He leans in close, cold lips touching your forehead.

"Nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

And he truly means it.

a/n: andddd that's another major Corio fic down! thank you to everyone who showed me love on my last Corio oneshot ("melting snow") and for those who answered my poll - dark soft! and possessive Corio won out but girldad!Corio also got a TON of love so I included it a bit here and will probably write a whole standalone fic with girldad!Corio as the concept. thank you again to everyone for remaining patient, I had writer's block for a bit and I've just had the most awful few weeks ever (mental health wise and life wise) so it was difficult to find moments to write.

as always, please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you enjoyed. the interactions is what motivates me to write! I hope you liked it hehe x

[mysticalmallard]

Lonely Nights

Description: Tig is struggling, and she knows he is but he hates these conversations and will do anything to distract her from them.

Word count: 2,470

Warnings ⚠️: Angst, suggestive wording alluding to smutty things but nothing graphic. But I am still gonna mark this post as 18+ MDNI

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

SoA Masterlist 🌸 Main Masterlist

Tig and his girlfriend lay in bed, struggling to get a descent nights rest. Tig stares up at the ceiling with one hand wrapped snuggly around her bare waist. She slowly turns on her side to face Tig, a sign she was still awake too.

"What's on your mind, Darlin' ?" Tig runs his fingers gently down her side in a soothing manner he knows that helps her relax.

"I can't sleep." She says softly, her voice still rasp from the lack of use. She lays her head on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heart beat.

"I've noticed" He responds, his large hand wrapping around her body and pulling her closer.

She sighs and nestles her head into the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. "You worried about something?" He breaks the silence as he continues to soothe her.

"I'm worried about you." She looks up at him from her spot on his chest, her head resting on her arm that is placed against him.

He turns his attention to her, a surprised look on his face. "Me?" He almost laughs.

"Yeah..." she sighs "things at the club are crazy right now and you are barely home anymore.....and since...Donna....you know the way she died....I'm just worried about you.." she whispers wanting to get her point across without upsetting him.

Tig sighs and leans forward to place a tender kiss at the top of her head. "Ain't nothing gonna happen to me doll. I'm fine." He leans back against the pillow and pulls her closer once more.

"Please don't give me that." She rolls her eyes at his nonchalance. "I haven't seen you in almost a month. You look like you've barely been sleeping, I can see the bags under your eyes, and God only knows how much you've been drinking. I'm really worried Tiggy"

Tig looks down at her, a look of annoyance crossing his face. "You sound like my mother right now." He says with a hint of distaste in his voice. "Please, just let it go."

"No...I'm not going to let it go. You aren't looking good and I'm worried you're going to get yourself hurt or...." She trails off, not wanting the words to actually come out of her mouth, afraid of speaking it into existence.

Tig's eyes soften at her tone. He knows she was worried, but he was fine, damn it all. He tightens his grip around her waist, rolling her to her back while he holds himself over her body."I'm fine, Darlin' ," he says in a tone she knows is only meant for her. He leans down close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. "Stop worryin' so much...you're gonna go grey before ya hit thirty."

She lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of his breath on her skin. She gently rests her hands on his shoulders while he peppers light kisses along her neck. "Stop trying to distract me." She responds, her voice soft.

"It's working, ain't it?" He asks in between kisses, his hands gently roam her body. "Besides, I'd rather do this than talk about all the crap that's going on." He leaves a slight bite to her sensitive skin, her gasp only encouraging him.

"Well, I-" Her mind goes blank as his kisses make their way across her collarbone and onto her chest. He knew damn well what this did to her and he was using it to his full advantage.

His touch is gentle but firm against her skin as his hands roam her body, exploring every inch of her body he could in this moment. The room is filled with her soft gasps and sighs, her fingers lightly tracing his shoulders and arms as he makes his way slowly down her body.

He smirks against her skin as her hands find their way into his hair, pulling softly to coax the sound of a quiet moan from his lips. All her worries seemed to melt away when he touched her like this, but she still couldn't shake the feeling in the back of her mind.

His lips continue their gentle assault down her body until he reaches her stomach. He kisses her hips before going lower and leaving a trail of kisses on her inner thighs. She moans when his lips meet the sensitive skin and he grins between kisses.

She's now a panting mess and every worry she previously held was gone the moment he started touching her. One of her hands grips the sheets while the other still held tightly to his hair.

He continues his slow, languid kisses, enjoying every soft moan and gasp that escapes her lips. This was a good way to distract her, he thinks to himself. Her mind was far too occupied to think about anything else.

He takes his time in leaving his mark, knowing she wouldn't complain about any of the possessive love bites he would leave in her body. He could never get enough of the way she fell apart in his hands, completely at his mercy.

The only coherent thought she seemed to be able to keep in her head is the thought of how damn good he was at this. His mouth and hands worked in perfect harmony against her skin, sending her into a dizzying whirlwind of pleasure.

He could feel the way her thighs trembled under his touch and how her breathing was uneven and ragged. His own breathing grew heavy and she could feel the way the quiet moans vibrated against her skin.

He continues his gentle assault until she is left writhing beneath his touch, her eyes squeezed shut as the first wave of pleasure takes over her body. He places gentle kisses on the inside of her thighs as she slowly comes down from her high.

He moves back up to her side and pulls her against his body, holding her tightly against his chest. He tucks her head under his chin and wraps his arms around her. His fingers trace soothing patterns across her skin and gently pulls the sheets up and over their bodies.

She nestles her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. As she starts to come back down to reality, the worries flood her mind again. Tig feels her tense in his arms, knowing what she was thinking about again.

"I can hear ya thinkin', Darlin'," He murmurs into her hair. His hand continues to move gently up and down her back.

"Can't help it," she says softly, her head still tucked under his chin. It was like a switch flipped and reality came back in full force. "I just...I worry about you. And...I worry about us."

Tig's grip tightens at her words, and his fingers stop their gentle patterns. "What do you mean you worry about us?" He asks, a hint of unease to his voice.

She lifts her head so she can look up at him, her lips slightly parted. "Everything is so chaotic with the club right now. You barely have any time to yourself and when you do, you come home either hurt, exhausted, or both. You barely eat or sleep at home and I'm worried you're going to get yourself killed. And on top of all of that, we barely spend any time together anymore." She says the last line quietly.

Tig's heart aches at her words, a pain in his chest as he stares down at her small form pressed against him. She was right, he knew she was. But she also knew the club came first. "Doll', you knew when we started dating I came in a package deal. The Sons come first, you know that."

"I know...and I'm fine with that, really I am" she sighs looking down tracing circles on his chest trying to find the best way to word it. "I guess I thought there would still be some time set aside for us...for you....I know its not realistic to have a fixed schedule and that you could be needed at any moment...but you deserve a day atleast..." she mumbles eyes down.

Hearing her say he deserves a day made his heart throb in his chest. He gently cups her face in his hand and guides her eyes up to his. "Darlin'...you know I-" he stops in the midst of his rebuttal as he sees the way her face looked. It was a mix of frustration, worry, and....sadness.

"I'm not asking you to set aside time every week, don't get me wrong." She sighs, her voice still a soft whisper. "But you're still human, you need to eat and sleep more than two hours a night. I just want you to...take care of yourself more. Be a little more careful with yourself." She says softly, her eyes pleading.

Looking into her eyes, he feels like he's looking into a wounded animal. She was worried about him, she genuinely didn't want anything to happen to him. He sighs and pulls her flush against his body once more, resting his forehead against hers. "You know I can't make any promises, Darlin'."

Her eyes close as he pulls her body against his, but a slight pang of hurt shoots through her. "I don't care if you make a promise, I just want you to try." She whispers, a desperate, pleading edge to her tone.

He winces at the tone in her voice. Damn it, he hated when she used that tone. He didn't want to worry her, but how could he make promises that he couldn't keep? "I-" he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I will try, okay? I'll fucking try, Doll'..." he says so softly she almost thinks she imagined it.

He opens his mouth to say more but his phone ringing interrupted him. He picks it up from the side table, they both recognise the number flashing on the screen.

Tig glances down at her to gauge her reaction knowing full well what the number meant. He had to leave now. He knew he did, but God damn he didn't want to.

He answers the phone anyway.He gives a simple "Yeah," to whoever is on the other end of the line. His gaze doesn't leave hers, but a guilty look is plastered across his face. He knows he's about to ruin her night again, it happens far too often now.

She's watching him with a hint of desperation and sadness in her eyes, already knowing the conversation will end the way it normally does. With him leaving.

As the person on the end of the line responds, Tig reluctantly tears his eyes away from her and glances at the clock. "I'll be there in twenty." He says before hanging up.

His heart clenches as he looks back at her, knowing exactly what she's thinking. This is how it always is: him getting a call at night and having to leave, leaving her in bed, alone, after she just poured her heart out to him. "Darlin'...I'm—" He stops mid sentence and sighs. It was pointless to even try to justify it, she knew the club came first.

She says nothing, sitting up off of him pulling the sheets to cover her chest....pausing looking up at him a small frown on her face "Ride safe, yeah?" She whispers with a small forced smile on knowing there was nothing she could say to make him stay.

Tig sighs as she sits up, knowing she's trying to push her feelings aside for now. "Yeah." He says, his eyes never leaving her's. It felt like a knife to the gut seeing her trying to pretend to be okay in this moment. "I'll be back before you know it." He tries to soothe her nerves but he knows it's pointless.

He sits up now too and turns away from her, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floor. He stands and quickly grabs a pair of jeans from the dresser and pulls them on before grabbing a t-shirt and his socks. He gets dressed as quickly as possible, knowing he didn't want to draw this out any longer.

Once he's fully dressed he turns his attention back to her, still sitting on the bed looking so small and vulnerable. The sight makes his heart ache but he pushes the feeling down and moves back to her. He cups her face in his hands and gently kisses her forehead, feeling her body tense under his touch.

"I'm sorry, Darlin'." He whispers as he continues to hold her face in his hands. He sees the sadness in her eyes, the loneliness, and it hurts him to know he was the cause of it. He gently kisses her forehead again before moving his hands away from her face. She doesn't say a word, just continues to look at him, the hint of a lonely frown evident on her face.

He sighs and turns away, glancing at the clock on the bedside table once more. "I gotta go." He says finally, though it pains him to say the words. He hates leaving her like this, but he had a job to do and the club was waiting for him.

He moves around the foot of the bed and to the bedroom door, not stopping to look back at her knowing he'd lose his will to leave. He pushes the bedroom door open and walks through it, pausing in the small hallway for just a moment. His heart is in his throat and it feels like he's about to choke on it but he says the line he always does and he does it as gently as he can. "Don't wait up, Darlin'."

She waits until the sound of his bike completely faded out, and the silence of the night returned before she allowed herself to let her tears fall. She held them in as he got dressed and left, but now that she was left in the quiet of the house, alone, she couldn't stop them anymore.

She curled up in the bed, pulling the covers tightly around her body to try and seek comfort from the absence of Tig now. The quiet sobs shook her body and her tears soaked the pillow under her head and face.

The situation they were in was an endless cycle; he would leave, she would be alone and sad, he would come home, a short amount of time would be set aside for 'them' and then they would be on a timer until the next time he had to leave. It was the same cycle over, and over, and over again, and if something didn't change soon, she had a feeling it was the beginning of the end for them.

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 12)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

⚠️IMPORTANT!⚠️

Tw: This chapter includes some fairly graphic descriptions of violence, and a minor character attempting to SA the main character. He does not get far before he gets a pretty brutal comeuppance from J and the main character. I've not included this lightly, SA is of course a serious topic - but this is an exaggerated revenge fantasy which I personally found a lot of catharsis in writing.

Part 12 -

The time soon came to start rattling some cages and J's demeanour changed. First he became more distant and agitated, then,

by the time I'd checked us out of the motel and returned to the car, he was calm and still. I knew that meant whatever plan he had was now in motion. The first stop on the little tour was not what I had expected as we pulled up outside an unremarkable house in a run-down neighbourhood.

"Stay here," he commanded sternly.

"But-" I began in protest.

"Stay. Here." he hissed.

I relented and shrank back into my seat, the dark look in his eyes sending a cold chill through me.

He soon returned with one of his men, who was silent, in tow. The man clambered into the back, after failing to hide his surprise at seeing I was occupying the passenger seat. I figured the guy wasn't expecting a home visit from his missing boss and, catching sight of an anxious little face peering out of the window for a second before the curtains drew closed again, I realised he didn't live alone. Perhaps that was why he was the first stop, because J knew he had the easiest buttons to push - he had a family. Maybe that also meant he would be the last man to betray his boss. You could never tell for sure, but if he cared about his family at all, he wouldn't risk it. Not in a million years.

"(Y/n), this is Antoni Kaminski," J announced as we pulled away from the house.

The man nodded to me sheepishly.

"Just call me Tony, everyone does," he said in a thick Polish accent.

"Okay," I nodded back robotically, still wondering what his story was. Was he one of the men J had poached from the mob?

We stopped off at an old warehouse. I sat in the car until J waved me out.

"You can come along for this part," He said with a sly look on his face.

Part of me was afraid - did he expect me to take part in something violent with them?

I was relieved when the three of us instead stopped inside by a stack of various crates. Tony used a crow bar to lever several of the wooden lids clear. Inside of each was all manner of strange things.

The first one I peered into looked as though someone had raided a circus, or maybe a carnival - it was full of vintage style clothing. The fabrics were a riot of clashing patterns and colours - harlequin, checkerboard, tartan, argyle, polkadot, houndstooth, and paisley. I began to pull out some of the garments, digging through them in confusion. There was velvet, lace, satin, chiffon, and leather, all thrown in together. There were tights, stockings, hats, gloves, petticoats, ruffles and collars, suit jackets, shirts, a wedding veil, scarves, bracelets and bangles, belts with coins and beads and bells. I found a beautiful green sari, an embroidered pair of velvet gloves, a string of pom poms. It seemed to never end... I laughed in disbelief at the overwhelming sea of fabric scattered around me.

"Take what you like," J said, as he directed Tony to open two more crates.

Overcome with curiosity, I watched as he produced a coat hanger with a plastic bag over the top - like the kind you got at the drycleaners. He had a curious look of relief on his face and I quickly realised that it held his suit. Of course he would have multiples - the thought never occurred to me before but it made total sense. He disappeared out of view with the bag while I continued to look for a replacement for my scruffy, stolen t-shirt.

I found a dark red velvet blouse; high necked with long sleeves which turned into something flared from the elbow to the wrist - multiple layers of shimmering red fabric fluting outwards. There was such a huge volume and variety, possibly even some I recognised from the store where we had originally crossed paths, that I managed to find a full change of clothes, underwear included.

Tony made himself scarce, carrying various tools and weapons out to the car in a large duffle bag. Once I had struggled out of the dirty clothes I'd been stuck in, I felt a wave of relief. The outfit I'd cobbled together was thankfully muted enough that it wasn't going to attract any more attention than the scruffy mess I was beforehand. For once I actively wanted to keep to being unremarkable and unnoticed. The top was pretty, the black flared jeans complementing it and even pairing nicely with the black combat boots I was stuck with. I found a belt with an ornate gold buckle and a long black coat lined in a shade of burgundy satin which complimented the velvet top and would keep me warm.

I gathered a few extra items of clothing so that I had spares and stuffed them into a stray duffle bag. Then I found something else in one of the crates which drew my full attention. It was a beautiful Venetian mask, Carnivale style with protruding spikes of fabric framing the cracked white skin of a doll-like face. The spikes of black velvet fabric were bordered by gold brocade, and sat like the petals of a giant flower, each one tipped with a dangling golden bell which hung around the white face. The delicate motionless lips shone with gold. I reached out to touch it, gently tracing the hairline cracks of the aged porcelain and wondering who it had belonged to.

J reappeared, and though I knew it was coming, his freshly painted face and full suit still startled me. He was only missing two things. I held out the coat I had relinquished in favour of my newer aquisition, and he threaded each arm into the sleeves to shrug it into place. Then, as he turned around to face me again, I handed over the knife from the pocket of my cargo pants, stuffing them back into my duffle bag of spoils. He clicked open the blade, turning it this way and that, before closing it and pocketing it once more. For a moment the reality that I might have just handed him the tool for another human being's destruction flooded into my brain. I hurriedly tried to push it aside.

Tony had returned and he pulled out a mask not dissimilar to the ones I had seen J's men wearing as they pushed their terrified hostages into the corner of the dress store. It seemed like a strangely distant memory to me now... I turned back to the carnival mask. This one was uncanny too, but in a different way. It was hauntingly beautiful, much more delicate and refined in its shape and features.

"Take it," urged J's now familiar voice beside my right ear.

I watched as he stepped out in front of me and spun around to meet my gaze. He looked so different like this. At first, I had been startled by the appearance of the man beneath all the layers of clothes and paint, but now I was startled by the re-appearance of the nightmarish clown stood before me.

He handed the mask over to me as I continued to stare like a deer in the headlights.

"Hello?" he said, grasping my jaw with a purple gloved hand and turning it side to side, "earth to doll face, anybody home?"

I blinked and snapped out of my stupor, meeting his gaze directly, and feeling like all the air rushed out of my lungs as I did.

I had forgotten just how frightening the paint could be. I had forgotten just how frightening he could be.

He put on a wide brimmed hat that matched his coat - the kind a detective in an crime noir movie might be sporting.

"We're leaving," he announced, suddenly turning on his heels and striding out towards the car.

I quickly grabbed a plastic bag of assorted makeup and tossed it into my bag. Tony stopped me as I went to follow after J.

"Hey, you wanna take some things from this one?" he gestured to a nearby crate.

Looking inside, I saw that it was loaded full of a very random assortment of weapons. I could see brass knuckles, grenades, knives, various types of guns and ammunition, a hammer, and numerous other kinds of household items which could easily double as weaponry. I shook my head nervously, much to his surprise.

"I'm... I'm not getting hands-on," I said shakily, praying he didn't think I was just some stupid distraction for his boss.

He shrugged.

"Ok but put something in the car for later? You never know," He suggested.

Not wanting to offend him when he was choosing to be nice to me, I took the crowbar he'd left leaning against the crate and carried it out to the car. I put it in the trunk beside the grey duffle bag stuffed full of weapons. I was glad my bag was a different colour - navy blue - as I tossed it in and shoved it into the opposite corner. You wouldn't want to get them mixed up. Then I watched in surprise as Tony swapped the car's licence plates with casual efficiency and got into the passenger seat.

We drove downtown in silence. I could see via the mirror that Tony looked uneasy - understandably so: even if he wasn't a rat, he would know better than anyone that J was out for blood. I felt uneasy myself at the uncertainty of what I had signed up for by actively deciding to stay. It was one thing to have found myself bonding with J in the purgatory-like headspace we'd both been forced into lately, but entirely another to be riding shotgun as the Joker was preparing to slaughter the men who turned against him. It was a very different feeling to be even a silent observer to his movements across the city. Out here he was a force of nature, watching him now was like watching the churning waters of the river as I clung to the bridge. I found myself fixating on his hands as he gripped the wheel - leather gloved and squeezing till his knuckles pressed against the fabric so hard they looked as though they could pop out. His jaw flexed as he stayed laser focused on the road ahead. His whole body seemed taut, wired with anticipation.

When the car pulled up in a wide alleyway, a hulking monstrosity of a man opened the back door to whatever place we had arrived at. He was so broad had to step through it sideways on. I was expecting to be told to stay in the car again, but to my surprise J opened my door for me.

"Stay behind us and don't interfere," was all he warned, tilting the brim of the hat down so that people wouldn't see his painted face so easily.

"Interfere... with what exactly?" I muttered to myself as I entered behind Tony and the enormous man who let us in. Tony turned back toward me with a look of concern.

"Things are going to get very ugly soon, maybe don't watch," he whispered, with an air of genuine concern.

My stomach was tying itself in knots as we slipped down a dark hallway, past a bustling kitchen. The fluorescent lights and glinting silver surfaces, the hiss of steam from enormous Woks and people struggling around the claustrophic space was more noise than I had encountered for days. The smell of raw chilli felt like it was actively burning my nostrils as we passed by. We soon bore left and approached a large set of double doors. I could hear the dull thudding of music being played loud, the bassline shaking the walls and floor.

As the doors were thrown open, the full force of the undampened sound hit me like a wave. The beat was fast paced and repetetive, the kind of mindless dance music you had to be under some kind of intoxication - be it drugs or alcohol - to enjoy. The enormous man who let us in stepped aside and did not follow as we entered, instead returning to his post beside the door, arms folded over his chest. All around us a mass of bodies twisted and jumped wildly to the beat, people were lined up against the wall with drinks and cigarettes in hand. The white flashes of the strobe lights made their forms seem to flicker and glitch, jumping from pose to pose like they some kind of garish tableaux vivant, or a series of photographs in a flip book animation. The room's main source of lighting came from the vibrant green light behind the bar, making it look like some kind of mirage rising out of the near darkness. It certainly seemed to be a watering hole for some, as the men and women jostled to get to the front for their next orders.

It all seemed shockingly mundane. I hadn't been inside a place like this for years. I could see people aggressively making out in the darker corners of the room, drunkenly fumbling around, while the main mass of patrons were congregated on the dancefloor in the centre of the room. We weaved in and out of the crowd until we reached the VIP booths section.

The security man seemed apprehensive as he moved the rope for the Joker and Tony to enter. I was a little further behind and tried to follow only to find a strong arm block my path.

"Sorry miss, gotta have a pass," he explained, rehooking the rope barrier.

"But, I - " I looked on in despair, alas my two companions were already out of sight. He would never believe I was with them.

Figuring it would be worse to cause a scene, I stepped back. I would just have to wait by the bar then, I thought to myself. It was only about five paces to the left and the extreme end was empty enough. I leant against it, trying to be as invisble as possible. It might have just worked, if not for me accidentally making a fleeting moment of eye contact with a man in the queue. He sidled around the corner of the bar to be next to me, immediately slipping an arm around my shoulders which I firmly but politely removed.

"So whatcha drinking? What can I get you?" He asked.

"Oh, um, no thanks. I'm fine," I tried to wave him off.

"Ah come on, just one drink?" He pushed.

I tried to look over the the VIP booths, but couldn't see J anywhere.

"You know, I'm just waiting for my friend, we are leaving soon," I said awkwardly, shrinking away from him as much as possible.

The bar tender turned to him.

"I'll have a bottle of that, and, uh, for her...?" He turned to me as if to say, 'go on'.

The bar tender was looking at me impatiently.

"Uh, Jack and cola. Single," I said hurriedly, hoping that the two of them would be done with whatever they came here for before I had to drink it. My hopes were dashed so I quickly picked it up from the bar as soon as it was poured and nodded in appreciation before downing it.

"Whoah, thought you didn't want a drink," he scoffed in shock.

"Oh so you just pretended not to hear that part then?" I muttered, turning to face outwards with my back against the bar.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry, i didn't mean to be... pushy," he said sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

I laughed lightly under my breath.

"So uh, what brings you here?" He asked, still not reading the obvious signs of my disapproval.

"...work, I guess," I sighed distractedly, trying to see into the VIP section again.

I quickly realised he had interpreted my answer to mean something else entirely, when his face lit up in excitement.

"How much you askin'?" He urged.

I was too stunned to answer for a moment.

He pressed again.

"How much for us to go out back?" He asked with a smirk.

I suddenly spotted J and Tony forcefully escorting another man out of the VIP section towards the exit. Ignoring the creep next to me I slipped around him and darted into the crowd to follow after them, accidentally knocking into a few people in my hurry. The huge man on the door seemed to be deliberately off duty, looking the other way and was not at his post.

I slipped out of the sweaty, all-consuming nightclub and past the noisy kitchen into the night air. I was just in time to see J, with the knife held to the throat of their captive as Tony taped his hands and feet together.

"Scream and I'll cut out your tongue," J's voice rang out as they continued to bind him. Then they slapped a final piece of tape over his mouth and bundled him into the trunk of the car. Silence followed as they both shut him in.

Suddenly, I was slammed aggressively against the wall. The man from the bar had followed me outside and I had been too distracted to notice, so he'd caught me completely off-guard. I felt his body pressed up against me and desperately tried to wriggle free.

"Let me go!" I urged.

"Hey, I just want your business. Can you blame me? You look new. Most of the girls in this part of town are run down and used up, but you..." the look in his eyes terrified me as I continue to struggle.

"Help!" I screamed out.

In response he clamped a hand over my mouth to try and stop me from crying out.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed as his fingers touched my scars. He recoiled a little in shock making a noise of disgust.

"I didn't realise you had a face like that, you're a fucking catfish!" He laughed in disbelief.

I scrambled slightly further out of his grasp but he still had ahold of my collar in his tightly closed fist.

"If i'm so disgusting to you then why don't you just let me go?" I spat, full of venom.

"I figure it's not all bad, you'll just have to give me a generous discount, and I'll just have to turn you around," he grinned.

There was something truly sickening about the careless way he said something so truly vile.

I stomped his foot as hard as I could and bit down on his arm until I drew blood, which was just enough for him to let me go. I fell forwards and scrabbled to get back up but froze for a second when I saw the familiar combination of dusty dress shoes and pinstriped purple pants. Looking up, I saw J towering over me as I coughed and spat blood onto the sidewalk, gagging in total revulsion.

J had an expression like a thundercloud, and stood stock still - a look I had seen only a handful of times by now, but I knew it meant he was feeling particularly murderous. He wordlessly tugged me back up to my feet as the attacker turned to face us.

"How much of that did you see?" I muttered through gritted teeth, seething with rage.

"Enough," J said flatly, pushing his hair back away from his forehead.

The attacker looked pissed that someone had interrupted him, stepping forward as though he was about to rail on us both... and then his eyes met those of the man in the purple coat. As he recognised the face paint, his expression melted into one of fear. It was espescially gratifying to see the power balance shift so totally in real time. He raised both his hands slightly as if to try and placate the man beside me. This was a terrible mistake on his part, as with surprising efficiency J swept forward and rammed a knife clean through his left palm, spearing it into the door behind us.

The man let out a scream like an animal in a bear trap as he squirmed, unable to move without further injuring himself. Blood was pouring out of the open wound and the knife was driven so deep into the wood that only the handle was visible, sticking out of his palm at a perfect right angle. J's face was no longer angry, and a kind of sinister calmness had settled over him.

The injured man's screaming gave way to sobbing.

"Please, I'm sorry. I don't want any trouble. I didn't know she belonged to you or I would've never touched her, I swear," he pleaded, voice cracking in sheer desperation

"She doesn't belong to me," J said, leaning over the man and stroking his hair mockingly.

I was vibrating with rage at the pathetic creature in front of me and what he thought he could get away with - what he had probably spent a lifetime getting away with.

"Tell me, what do you think an appropriate punishment for someone like yourself is?" J asked casually, stroking the side of his face.

"I - what?" He thought for a moment, "I'll - i'll turn myself into the police I swear! Please!," he broke down into full choking sobs and hung his head.

"Not good enough, the crooked cops will just let you go," I hissed, feeling like something was taking over me.

J's gaze darted away from the crumpled man in front of him to me. I was trembling with rage. A sly shadow of a smile and a dangerous spark of approval lit up his face.

He crossed over to the trunk of the car, pulling something out and slamming it shut again. Then he approached me and handed me the crow bar I had put there earlier. It was heavy and the metal was ice cold to the touch. I met his gaze as he withdrew his hands.

"I'll be in the car. What you do with him is entirely your choice."

A wicked grin spread across his features, enhanced by the red painted smile. I gripped the handle as I considered the full weight of the situation. As promised, he retreated to the car, leaving me to decide the fate of the man in front of me. I knew he would be watching, to see what I'd do.

I was so angry. It was like this final attempt at the unspeakable had dragged up every single other horrible experience at the hands of cruel men, from the minute to the massive: from street harassment, to an abusive and controlling ex-boyfriend. All of those years of suppressed anger simmering away... This man was less than a man. He was an animal. His behaviour had confirmed it. He was too casual with it, far too cruel: this wasn't his first time. He clearly enjoyed abusing the powerless, clearly got off on it.

"You don't want to do this, you're kind. I can te -" he tried to reason with me.

The intrusion of his voice was the final straw and I didn't let him finish the sentence - swinging the crowbar in a perfect arc so that it crashed into his jaw. It knocked him to the right and he screamed in pain.

"You stupid bitch!" He cursed, spitting two of his teeth into the gutter.

BAM. I hit him again.

"Stop fucking talking!" I barked with a ferocity I didn't know I had in me.

He glared up at me, blood dripping from his mouth. I continued:

"Listen here you sick fuck, for once in your goddamn life you are going to listen, okay?"

He said nothing, testing me.

BAM. I brought the crowbar down on the fingers of his good hand, hearing an audible crack. Again his screams rang out, but only to fall on deaf ears.

"Did you hear me? Nod so that I know you understand," I hissed.

He nodded, looking up at me with the purest contempt in his eyes. I jabbed the curved end of the bar under his chin to force him to look up at me.

"Good. Now, I don't know how many times you've ignored the words 'no' from a woman, but I'd bet good money that it's a fucking lot. If you EVER, and I mean EVER step one toe out of line, so help me god, I will find you and you will wish I killed you right here in this alley. You've seen the company I keep... you know how he has ways of keeping tabs on people." I spat.

I jabbed the bar tighter against his windpipe.

"Have I made myself abundantly fucking clear?"

He nodded defeatedly.

"Good", I muttered.

For good measure I swung a truly impressive upper cut with the bar to his crotch which had him squealing like a pig as he crumpled up.

"And because, as you pointed out, I am a kind person, I'm going to do you a favour before I go."

I lined up the teeth of the crow bar with the handle of the knife and levered it out of the door, illiciting a final scream of pure agony from him. As it yielded and he fell in a bloody heap on the floor, I tugged the blade out of his hand. The gory sight almost turned my stomach but I turned and quickly got into the back seat of the idling car.

Tony was in the driver's seat and J was in the back with me but I didn't look at either of them as I slammed the door shut behind me and tossed the weapons to the floor.

"You brought back my knife, how thoughtful," J purred.

I couldn't find the humour in his joke and remained silent as the car pulled away.

"I didn't kill him, but I did teach him a valuable lesson... I hope," I said finally breaking my long silence as we crossed into the fringes of the docks.

The joker said nothing but I could feel his eyes on me, that analytical, calculating, gaze again.

Link to the masterlist for other chapters:

Tag list:

If I forgot anyone or you want to be removed from the tag list - please let me know! 💕

@dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd

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Dividers by @strangergraphics

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word Count: 5.3k

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 - )

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hi beautiful people!! I'm back with the third chap of this story. It took me almost five days to write it, but here it is finally!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!! Xoxo, aby..

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

"I will kill you..."

Fuck, you couldn't have been any clearer with your words. If they made you the slightest bit suspicious, you would blow their heads off. And as much as you had said before that you didn't want to kill them, if they gave you reason even after your warning, you would have no choice.

After that, you had simply thrown some clothes at them, muttering a "take a bath and clean up this mess," pointing to the wet and muddy floor, and then disappeared upstairs.

You had locked yourself in your room (literally) because you had locked the lock with a homemade key that you had made at the beginning of all this when you didn't feel safe even in your room and felt the need to lock it. You had no energy for anything else, and that night you just lay in your bed, hoping to be alive the next day, while you heard little murmurs on the first floor, and also heard the boys walking around, probably cleaning up.

After a few minutes, surprisingly, you managed to fall asleep. ....

----------

The seven men in your house had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before, they had been able to bathe properly and clean up as you had asked, but the fact of their new reality, living with you, the last remaining woman, had not let them rest properly.

And now it was a whole new reality that they had to adjust to, but damn it, it was so hard knowing that you were sleeping one floor away. They had you so close but so far away at the same time that it was almost impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep because there was something going on in their heads that would not leave them alone....

you

your existence, your presence, even the ghost of your perfume that had lingered in the living room and how you had confronted them so powerfully the night before. It was just you.

The next morning, the smell of cooking woke you from your sleep. Hell, you knew how to cook, but you hadn't smelled anything that tasty in years. That meant only one thing, one of the boys was using your kitchen, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious.

You replaced your pajamas with a pair of jogging pants and a tight, slightly short, long-sleeved t-shirt that revealed the delicate little metal that adorned your belly button. You combed your hair a little, and in the bathroom of your room you brushed your teeth and washed your face. Little things in your daily routine that you were still allowed to do.

You put your gun in your makeshift gun belt and unlocked the door to your room. What you didn't expect when you walked out was to see two of the boys sitting against the wall on either side of your door, asleep. Their expressions were unreadable as you looked at them doubtfully, now that you could see them better in the morning sunlight. Their features were relaxed, a stark contrast to how tense they had been the night before, they were wearing the clothes you had thrown at them, and they really were attractive men, but then again, you couldn't stop and thinking about that now.

With a sigh, you looked at them for a few more seconds before shaking your head and walking down the hall to the stairs. You didn't bother to wake them, figuring that if they slept so much, it was because their bodies needed it. Besides, the tension of the night before and the discovery that there was still a woman alive must have exhausted them.

When you reached the first floor after descending the stairs, you could visualize four more guys, scattered randomly on the couch in your living room, also completely asleep. You remembered two of them, one of them you had pointed the gun at and the other was the arrogant shameless jackass, yes, you remembered him very well and now his cute sleeping face had not a hint of arrogance, being able to fool anyone with that appearance of fake innocence.

Well, maybe you were being a bit dramatic but in your defense he had been a jerk to you.

Rolling your eyes at the memory, the delicious smell of food grew stronger as you walked through the living room. You could hear the small clink of the frying pan and the snap of something frying as you approached the kitchen.

When you finally got there, you could see the missing boy, obviously cooking, he hadn't noticed your presence yet, so you decided to lean against the door frame with your arms crossed and a serious expression on your face.

"Morning..." you finally spoke, your voice devoid of emotion as you watched him jump in surprise, "Shit...you scared me..." he turned to you with his eyes a little wide and a hand on his chest in shock as he tried to calm his slightly accelerated breathing.

You almost laughed at the scene but decided to keep your expression serious as you watched him intently. He looked at you for a second and then quickly looked back to the frying pan where he was cooking scrambled eggs while he cleared his throat, "So you're up already?" you could swear he was pretty nervous from the way his body was tense and the silly question he had asked since you were literally standing in front of him.

This was going to be fun.

"Jay, right?..." you clearly remembered his name because that cheeky idiot had called him that the night before as you shushed him, "yeaah, I'm starting to think you're paid to ask stupid questions..." there was a lot of seriousness in your voice as you deliberately gave him a glare, raising both your eyebrows as you watched him open his mouth to try and answer, but he just couldn't.

You remembered his name

and it sounded so beautiful coming out of your lips and it made Jay's head spin a little. Because he didn't want to look like an idiot in front of you, but your presence only, made it difficult.

You spoke again, meeting his gaze, "May I ask what you are doing in my kitchen?" your eyes had a little gleam of amusement in them now, but your voice was still deadly serious.

Jay looked at you and then at the ladle in his hand that he was using to cook, "w-well...i was making the...breakfast..." he cleared his throat again as you heard him stutter. You nodded as a sound of mock approval passed through your throat, "with my food..." you replied as you shook your head in acknowledgement, pointing to the eggs in the pan.

Your eyes never left his fake calm expression, his body language and voice clearly betraying the nervousness he was trying to hide in your presence.

"Uhu..it's just that I thought you'd all be hungry when you woke up, s-so i thought it would be a good idea to have breakfast ready..." he cursed himself for stuttering so much, damn, instead of a man he looked like a teenager dealing with puberty.

"Ahem..." you let the silence fill the kitchen air with anticipation, you kept looking at him wordlessly and Jay could swear he felt smaller and smaller under your gaze.

And fuck, he literally hadn't done anything wrong, yet your eyes seemed to judge the depths of his soul as the tension was suffocating in the deafening silence, and he hadn't missed the gun you seemed to always carry with you.

You didn't trust them

That was Jay's conclusion and it was obvious, who would in a situation like yours? he couldn't, nor did he have the right to blame you for judging his every move, after all it was basically you against the world.

You, on the other hand, were having quite a bit of fun deliberately making him nervous, curious to see how he would react and how the mere fact of talking to him or making him so nervous would make you wonder if you would have the same effect on the other guys as well.

"You know...I divided the food into portions..." you commented after a few seconds of silence that seemed like an eternity to Jay. At your words, his eyes immediately met yours and he blinked several times, thinking about what to say.

Fuck, he hadn't thought of that, of course, a day ago it was just you, you only had to worry about what you were going to eat, but now with the arrival of the seven of them, the picture as to how long the meal would last was completely different and Jay had overlooked that.

"Next time, ask me before you take my food, even if you have to break down my bedroom door and wake me up, ask me first, is that clear?" your voice was a little more relaxed now, but with the same seriousness as you pulled yourself away from the door frame to move a little closer to the oven where Jay was cooking.

He nodded immediately at your clear command, because yeah, it was a command, no room for argument in your words, "Sure, of course, it won't happen again..." he turned his head to look at you again and was surprised to see you closer than before, swallowing hard as he tried to hold your piercing gaze as he watched you nod at his statement.

"Speaking of my room, who are the two clowns sleeping on my doorstep like they were camping?" your question caught Jay off guard as he stopped cooking for a few seconds and stared at the frying pan, then closed his eyes, frowning and denying in frustration.

Those idiots!

He let out a sigh and then opened his eyes, finally turning off the oven. He slowly turned to you with a flushed face as he seemed to be searching for words to say, "Sorry, I didn't think they mean it when they said they would sleep outside your room..." he licked his lips as he served the scrambled eggs on different plates, "The black haired one is Ni-ki and the gray haired one is Jake..." you finally knew who was who and you laughed inwardly as you saw Jay fighting with himself not to go and wake them both.

"Oh...they thought it would be a good idea to stand guard outside my room..." you said, pressing the buttons even harder as Jay got redder by the second. He ran his hand over his face in frustration, "I'm really sorry...Ni-ki is the youngest of the group and Jake always goes along with his nonsense..." he let out another sigh as he finished his words, apologizing on behalf of his friends.

So Ni-ki and Jake were the reason why everyone was here now. You wondered what had gone through their heads to dare to escape in the middle of the night, not only breaking the curfew and putting themselves in danger, but also being chased by the police.

A few more minutes and they could have caught them, they could have caught you.

The smell of bacon brought you out of your thoughts as for the first time you showed an expression as you watched Jay place it on the plates, next to the scrambled eggs. "You used the bacon Jay, it was saved for special occasions, there were only three packages left and you used them..." your tone was accusatory as your eyes, a little wider than usual, shifted from Jay to the bacon on the plates, repeatedly.

Jay immediately widened his eyes when he heard you and seemed to panic as he realized the implication of your words and began to ramble, "I-I'm so sorry...I had no idea, fuck...I didn't mean it. We can still buy more, I swear I'll replace them and leave everything as it was-..." you cut him off as a few specific words caught your attention.

Uh, buy more? What the fuck did he mean?

"What do you mean, buy more?" your question came out with a mixed tone of annoyance and disbelief "Do you have a job? or money?" your lack of understanding was reflected in every word you said as you looked at Jay for answers.

how could he possibly have a job if only essential services were still running? was he part of any essential services? because if he was, you were screwed. The Essential Services worked with the government, who had offered a billion dollar reward if one of their workers found a woman and gave her to them so they could experience the repopulation of the world with her.

"N-no, I don't have a job…" Jay hurried to speak when he saw your panicked face and how your hand had unconsciously gone to your gun, your expression hardened at his words, you wanted answers and you wanted them now "My father, he was doing very well in business and he left the inheritance to me since i'm an only child..." he clarified the situation quickly but you continued to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"What happened to him, he didn't want to be a millionaire overnight by giving everything to his beloved son?" the sarcasm and annoyance was clear in your voice full of suspicion as you questioned him without measuring your words and that's when Jay's expression changed.

He swallowed as his eyes, now filled with what seemed to be sadness, longing, and frustration, looked at you for a few seconds, only for you to notice that they were filled with...tears...

Oh..

He was going to cry?

"When my mother died from the virus, at the beginning of it all...my father could only hold on to life for a few more months before he decided to give up and go with her...a-and...and...i saw it all..." shit, why did you have to be so loose with your tongue? Jay had lost his parents, who were the only family he had, and not only that, he had to witness his father's suicide, fuck, that must have been really traumatic and fucking painful.

You immediately took your hand away from your gun and looked at him with empathy, you too had lost your whole family, the pain was unbearable and you couldn't imagine his, but, in a way, you shared the same pain, having lost your families...

The boys were all the family he had left

And not just Jay, all seven of them must feel the same way, they had all lost a lot and they recognized each other as the only family they had left. Then in that moment you understood, no matter what big trust issues you had towards them, they were human beings, just like you, they were fragile, just like you, they had lost everything, just like you, and the only thing they were clinging to was the hope that somehow it would get better, they didn't even know where it came from, but they were hoping that all their suffering had not been in vain

just like you

And then, without knowing what to say, you raised one of your hands and placed it gently on one of Jay's shoulders. He took a deep breath as he felt your touch, something that had become immeasurably distant, but that he hadn't realized he was missing until now, the comfort. His eyes, crystallized with unshed tears, looked sideways at your hand on his shoulder before they slid down his cheeks of their own accord, unbidden and silent.

Your heart squeezed at the sight of his crying, at the realization that he allowed himself to be vulnerable in a world where vulnerability killed you "Jay...I...I'm so sorry..." those were the only words your head allowed to leave your lips, but it was enough to express in your now soft and delicate voice that you both shared the same fucking pain.

Jay was overwhelmed for a moment, your words, as simple as they were, brought him a comfort he needed long ago, and that was enough for him to have his arms wrapped around your waist from one moment to the next, pulling your body into an almost trembling embrace that he seemed to need so desperately, an embrace that screamed how much he needed the contact, the affection, the containment and the relief.

For a few seconds your body couldn't react and you were paralyzed. You hadn't had this kind of direct contact in years and it was something that took you and your head by surprise. You felt Jay hide his face in your neck almost instinctively and his tears began to flow more abundantly as he clung to you as if his life depended on it.

It struck you as odd, like, yeah, you understood that the memory of the loss of his family would cause him so much pain, but you had become so used to suppressing your emotions that it was unusual for you to see such a vulnerable and fragile man clinging to you. But after a few seconds of processing the situation, you realized that his crying was not only because he had lost his family, it was also because of the weight that had been on his back all these years, you realized that surely he had also had to suppress what he was feeling, and finding you and being in your arms now was an instant relief and a great weight that he no longer had on his back.

His cry was a liberating one

One that spoke of how much he had endured over time and that he had finally found the relief he had been so desperately waiting for. Then, understanding this, you slowly let your arms wrap around his shoulders, finally returning his embrace as his body visibly relaxed under your gentle touch. Leaving your suspicion behind, you decided to give him a moment of comfort, and decided to listen to the human part of you instead of the rational part.

Heart over brain

Jay couldn't quite process what was going on, he only understood that you had welcomed his distress, that you hadn't taken him away from you, and that he inevitably found overwhelming comfort in your arms. Your scent soothed him, causing him to breathe shakily into the crook of your neck as his cry was silenced. Clinging to you, to your small waist and feeling the warmth of your body against his, helped him to calm down and understand that he was no longer alone, that he could express himself and act like a human being, at least with you.

Your chest felt tight, a shiver ran down your spine as you felt the slight trembling in Jay's body, but it diminished as the minutes passed, until finally you could no longer feel his tears soaking your shirt, and his once shaky breathing had been replaced by a soft and slower one. His crying had stopped, but he wasn't letting go and didn't seem to want to for the foreseeable future.

That is, until a clearing of the throat caused the two of you to abruptly separate for some reason. You turned to where the voice was coming from and your brow furrowed in annoyance as you saw the idiot in the kitchen door frame.

Right, 'the idiot' was your name for him.

He looked at you and then at Jay with an expression you couldn't quite understand, his eyes narrowed and his jaw visibly clenched "bravo.... you were really fast Jay...you got to her before any of us..." his tone was contemptuous, bordering on desperate as he made that ridiculous claim.

Jay on the other hand was sniffling and still looking at him with red eyes with obvious annoyance, "What the fuck, Heeseung Hyung, what kind of bullshit approach is that?..." the anger was clear in his voice as he snapped at him.

So 'the idiot' called himself Heeseung.

You raised an eyebrow at the situation and then sighed, really, what the hell was he trying to imply?

Heeseung had been awakened by the distant smell of scrambled eggs and bacon, his stomach growling with hunger and he just got up from the couch and followed the smell to the kitchen, but he didn't expect what he would find: You and Jay, hugging, obviously very close to each other.

His blood immediately and almost inevitably boiled with envy and jealousy, he knew you weren't an object, but he didn't like the idea of seeing his friends touching you in the slightest, and that was very clear to him:

Heeseung wanted you for himself

and the thought of having to share you with his other six friends was really hard for him to accept. Well, not only for him, the seven of them were extremely territorial and the situation could only get worse 'cause you were the only woman left, but hell, how could he even pretend to get to you when he was acting like a complete idiot?

Heeseung let out an unfunny laugh as he looked at Jay, the tension in the kitchen air was intense "Who do you think you are Jay, you think you have the right to touch her?" Jay frowned in annoyance at Heeseung's accusatory tone "Give it up dude...she's not a fucking object and she doesn't belong to you..." the complaint in Jay's voice was clear as your eyes shifted from him to Heeseung in disbelief.

Is this for real? they were making a jealous scene right in front of you.

"Hey stop talking shit, both of you..." the soft voice you had used with Jay before had been replaced by a cold and cutting tone "I don't belong to anyone and in case you haven't noticed..I'm right here, damn it..." now you were annoyed, really. The moment of consolation with Jay had been nice, but the fact that they were now acting like dogs fighting over meat didn't fucking amuse you at all and seemed hypocritical.

Heeseung and Jay seemed to be in a heated duel of glances, and fuck, if looks could kill, you thought they'd both be ten meters underground long ago, they both seemed to be about to say something, but your angry footsteps coming out of the kitchen made them both shut up.

Your angry footsteps echoed through the living room and down the stairs, and then there was a loud slamming of the door. You had locked yourself in your room. Heeseung and Jay could clearly feel your anger, so they were about to start fighting again, because the rivalry for your attention had already begun.

"Enough..." Jungwon's cold and cutting voice echoed in the kitchen, cutting off every word that came out of his elders' mouths. He walked into the kitchen, sipping a glass of water as if it was his home, then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, finally turning his gaze to Heeseung and Jay.

"Shame on you, you're the most grown up of the group..." his voice was cold as he clenched his jaw in clear annoyance "What do you want to achieve by behaving like this?...you're going to scare her away and get her to throw us all out on the street.... " He sighed as he shook his head disapprovingly, "We've only been here one night, not even a full day, and you're already fighting to see which one of you gets her attention first? very mature of you, really..." the sarcasm and annoyance were very clear in his firm and cutting voice.

The air was suffocating for both Heeseung and Jay, because when Jungwon was serious and even more so when he was angry, it was scary, so much so that neither of them could look him in the eyes, even if their expressions were hard, even if they were annoyed and even if they had the urge to answer him, neither of them did it "Let this shit not happen again, we don't want to scare her, we want to make her feel comfortable and gain her trust..." his statement was firm, leaving no room for retorts "You two brag about how much sex you had but you have no fucking idea how to treat a woman...", A dry laugh without a hint of grace left his lips, to which Heeseung and Jay only sigh and nod slightly at Jungwon's cutting words, and that was enough for him to drop the subject and leave the kitchen, but not before giving them both a warning look and taking one of the plates of egg and bacon.

---------

It was something that really made you angry. Because you hadn't allowed them to stay to be treated like a damned object, but on the other hand, you felt desired. Even though you knew that it was something inevitable because there were no more women to desire, something inside you felt good about it, something about possessiveness and jealousy made you sigh, not in anger but in satisfaction. You didn't think you were a person with a twisted mind, or at least you didn't give that image. But you were frustrated and pleased at the same time that they couldn't take more than a whole day to start fighting over you.

You knew it was going to happen eventually, they were men around your age, all damn attractive, so you suspected they'd never been rejected by women before, and you were also very attractive as far as you were concerned. So it wasn't surprising that they were jealous or fought over you, but you didn't expect them to let it show so quickly. Even though you didn't want to let them off so easily, it was clear that you didn't trust them yet and that you needed to get to know them better before you could allow yourself to feel completely at ease.

Now, locked in your room, you thought about the moment you had spent with Jay: it was beautiful, sad and nostalgic, but beautiful at the same time. Feeling his strong arms around you affected you more than you wanted, but you couldn't blame yourself, you hadn't had human contact for years and this embrace was something that surprised you, your conscience was clear, you were a human too and humans were social beings, made to be accompanied, not alone.

They had been together all these years, but you had faced a loneliness that ate you up more and more every day, then you told yourself that enjoying a hug was not a bad thing. The slam of the door you had slammed was enough for the aforementioned Jake and Ni-ki to stop camping outside your room and join the other boys downstairs, wondering what had happened.

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts and made you jump slightly in your bed, "Miss, it's me...the red haired boy, my name is Jungwon..." you heard a voice that was already familiar. Of course, the red haired boy, the one who had tried to calm the whole atmosphere between you and the idiot when you had pointed your gun at him.

With some confusion, you got off your bed and unlocked the door, only to see Jungwon standing on the other side with a plate of egg and bacon that smelled damn good. He held the plate out to you with a slight grimace, "You should have breakfast, miss..." he suggested and you stepped aside and let him into your room, sitting on the edge of your bed without thinking much about it.

Jungwon followed you with a careful step, not wanting to intrude into your space, your room.

Fuck, YOUR room.

He swallowed hard when he realized that he was in a woman's room, a very attractive woman, something that had never happened to him because before all this he had never dated, calling them a waste of time and preferring to study and do well academically. The only room he had ever been in was his sister's room or his mother's room, so this was new to him and he couldn't help but take a quick look around, scanning your space with curious and longing eyes.

"Thank you, Jungwon..." your voice snapped him out of his trance and he quickly nodded to your words, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when he heard you call his name, "Yeah, it's nothing...it's the least I could do after those idiots made that scene in front of you..." he said regretfully as he placed the plate on some of your furniture to then put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

You looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded in understanding, but something distracted you.

He really was, just so cute.

Seeing your silence, he took the liberty of continuing, "I apologize in their stead, Miss..." He spoke with firmness and determination as he looked at you intently, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again..." his voice was commanding, practically with born leadership, you frowned with a mixture of confusion and surprise, but didn't reply. He seemed to have this under control so easily, so you just gave him a nod.

You couldn't deny that you were fascinated by Jungwon, you wanted to know him better. He seemed to be someone very intelligent, who simply radiated confidence, but not the kind of confidence that scares you, but the kind that makes you feel a certain respect for him.

What you didn't know was that inside he was trying to ignore your precious presence, as well as the overwhelming smell of you that surrounded every corner of your room. He held himself back, he wanted to keep himself sane.

or at least appear to be.

But his legs were almost shaking and his composure was about to explode at the thought of being alone with you for the first time, alone with a woman who was not a member of his family for the first time in his life. He didn't want you to see the strong effect you had on him, not yet, so he simply nodded at your silence and turned with the intention of leaving your room, not only to give you your space, but also not to lose control of himself. But one thing he was sure of: if he had to fight with his friends for you, he would do it without any doubt, he just didn't want to show himself as immature as Heeseung and Jay had done.

"____...." your voice stopped his footsteps before he could leave your room, he instead turned around and looked at you curiously, giving you room to continue talking "That's my name...don't call me Miss anymore, okay?" Your words took him by surprise but he nodded without hesitation, all his tough exterior melted away as the blush came to his face at a ridiculous speed "Okay ___ Noona..." now it was your turn to blush.

Fuck, you couldn't deny that you loved being called that name, it was one of your weaknesses and Jungwon had found it out without any trouble.

He gave you a shy little smile, letting you see his adorable dimples that you hadn't been able to see before.

Shit, he was really cute.

He walked out of your room with his heart beating fast and you allowed yourself to smile for a few seconds. They all had different personalities and you would have to learn to deal with each of them, but from your point of view, it wouldn't be that hard if they started acting like Jungwon.

It would be a long and hard process, but one that you were sure would be worth it...

Taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @merwdusa @elairah @suhwife @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonline-blog @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsadtoday @immelissaaa

not the reader losing it for Jungwon lmao

[monscrow]

intro post, i guess!!!

askbox open only on weekends (when i remember lol); got too overwhelmed by spam, my apologies.

last updated 30/jan/2025

⚠️flash warning for blinkies at the bottom⚠️

free gaza, free palestine, stop genocide. you don't agree? block me.

i go by both mons and crow.

my pronouns are they/them, he/him and any neos/xenos that you think would fit either comedically or off of vibes.

lvl 16, so, a minor !! beware

aroacespec, something like that; qprs are sick asf and all hail relationship anarchy.

art sideblog is @monscrowdraws

audhdcd (asd + adhd + ocd 😻😋) and hEDS. i use tonetags, feel free to ask for clarification!!!

bday is oct 7. 🎉🎉🎉

i'm mexican 🇲🇽!! i speak both spanish and english.

timezone is cst/utc-6.

i say slurs i can reclaim (mainly the f and t queer ones) and swear a lot, though if that makes you uncomfortable please either block me or lmk so i can try to tone it down when around you.

i love interacting!! feel free to tag me in stuff, send some asks (be it on anon or not), or message me! moots can ask for my discord even if we've never actually talked before. though i suck at keeping consistent; nothing personal i promise</3 /gen

i tend to spam-reblog so do with that information what you will.

some tags you might see me use here and there:

#mons rambles ← just my thoughts, ideas, opinions, and whatever i feel like throwing into the tumblr void.

#ask a crow / #anon asks ← askbox replies.

#save / #art save / #fav / #hellsite faves ← these are more for myself, but yeah they're pretty self-descriptive. just in case you get curious or anything.

hyperfixations/interests/things i'm passionate about !!! i guess, kinda

→ mcr (+ most of the members' solo projects)

→ killjoys (california + national anthem, but mainly calif and fanon)

→ demolition lovers lore (i have literally written like at least three different essays about it for school help me i'm so serious)

→ emo/alt/diy culture

→ will wood

→ bandom in general

→ sonic the hedgehog (franchise) (SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG IS EVERYTHING BTW)

→ graphic design, arts and crafts, illustration (that's right y'all graphic design IS my passion 😔)

→ fnaf (bonnie fnaf they could never make me hate you)

→ cosplay/costume-making

→ d&d

→ crows (no way, crow, really???)

→ australian shepherds

→ the umbrella academy (s4 isn't canon in my heart + currently reading the comics !!! )

→ gravity falls

→ neurodivergencies/psychology/disabilities (this one's pretty meta ngl)

→ lgbtqia+ identities (emphasis on the aroace-spec ones + relationship anarchy)

→ politics/activism

→ linguistics + conlangs

→ fantasy in general (high fantasy, magic, vampires, tieflings, you name it)

→ boardgames

→ the count of monte cristo (book + 2024 movie)

→ webfishing :3

→ uhhhh there's more but i don't remember rn, i'll keep adding as i see fit (probably... maybe..... perhaps....... quizás........ puede ser..........)

dni

trump supporters, terfs, transphobes, anti lgbtqia+/queerphobics, exclusionists, ableists, racists, prolifers/antichoicers, proshippers/anti-antis, irl gore, pro-israel/zionists, pro-ai generated "content", pro-nft, non-critical media consumers, classists, ed blogs, sh blogs.

also, i'm aware that dnis tend to not be effective and i probably will still get shitty ppl in my inbox so i can and will block. though i'm p chill as long as you're chill. this blog is run by a very neurodivergent, mentally ill, mexican, transmasc, aroace faggot, and any kind of bigoted hatred will not be tolerated.

blinkies made with blinkies cafe !!!

pssst btw, before you go, if you read my intro post i'd heavily encourage you to like it, so i can know!!! :] (/nf though!)

[thenanbakacorner]

Can you write an Elf one-shot with a fem reader who gets cloying with him after watching a movie where one of the protagonists dies because he is afraid of losing him please? I just want that madman to get soft and shut up for a few minutes.

Absolutely! I want that too haha

(⚠️Light TW for mention of death and description of how a character dies⚠️)

* * *

🔪What's the Matter, Dearest? - Elf x Cloying Fem Reader Scenario🔪

While waiting for Elf to come back from work, you were sat on the couch, watching a movie. It was quite the nail-biter, leaving you on the edge the whole time.

However, what you hadn't expected in the slightest was for one of the protagonists to get shot, more less practically pelted with lead, and killed. It was quite graphic, and it had you yelping in shock at the fact that one of the main characters, let alone one that you had gotten attached to, was offed.

You had to pause the movie not even a few minutes after the scene thanks to your mind wandering to the possibility of your beloved boyfriend, Elf, getting killed in a similar way thanks to his dangerous work.

You couldn't bare to see that happen to him. The thought terrified you.

Then came the fear of if he wouldn't return from work this very day. After all, it's a bit past nine. He should've been home already! Oh god, what if he's hurt? Or worse?!

You ended up pacing the living room as your mind darkened with these worries, until the sound of the lock clicking broke you out of your scared trance.

When Elf appeared in the doorway, lifting a hand up in exaggerated greeting with a cheery "Oh honeyyy! I'm homeee~!", it felt like a thousand pounds worth of weight was lifted off your shoulders.

"Elf!!"

You chirped in a more heightened voice than you intended, running up to and grabbing onto him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Oh!" Elf exclaimed, a bit stunned by how seemingly excited you were that he was back. Sure, you were always excited to see him come home from work, but this was.. different. "What's the matter, dearest? Missed me?"

You simply nodded your head as you kept your face buried against his shirt, letting out a tiny noise reminiscent of a whimper as you did. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, leaned down, and placed a little peck of a kiss on the center of your head.

"How cute.~" He cooed, nuzzling his own nose against your hair. "Wanna take this to the couch, baby?" He gently questioned, and you nodded a bit more eagerly than you meant to.

Shortly after, the two of you found yourselves laying together on the plush fabric of the couch, legs tangled and arms wrapped around one another. Your face was now resting in the crook of his neck, holding onto your man as if he'd disappear.

Elf's eyes were closed as he rested them, which was much needed after a long day. He was content, comfortable, as you clung to him, although he did mentally note that you were being a bit more lovey than normal.

Eventually, you spoke up.

"Elf, honey.."

"Mmm?"

"Promise me something?"

He opened an eye and glanced down at you expectantly with a hum of question.

"Promise me you'll be careful? I can't stand the thought of losing you.."

You nuzzled deeper against him to further express your worry, and the ticklish sensation of your breath on his skin made him shiver a little bit, before he turned to fully look at you with a soft expression.

"Oh, baby.. is that why you were so anxious to meet me after work?"

The only reply you could manage was a little whine, and Elf was quick to startle at the sight of tears in the corner of your eyes. He moved to sit up with you, using his thumbs to wipe your eyes dry.

"There, there, little one.. I'll be careful. I promise."

You sniffled and moved in to hug him tight, nuzzling against him once more. He returned the gesture and peppered your head with little kisses, whispering sweet nothings to you of comfort and reassurance. You sighed, finally allowing a smile to come to your face, feeling safe and comforted in your lover's embrace.