#*BLACK AND WHITE LIKE THEIR CLOTHES !! THEIR CLOTHES !!

[starcrossedxwriter]

Double Trouble (Aaron Pierre x Black Reader x MBJ)

Warnings! NSFW, HEAVY BDSM, HEAVY Daddy kink, threesome (MFM), Everything is consensual! Degredation kink, Praise kink, Bratty reader, Dom! Aaron, Dom!MBJ

A/N: went hella overboard with this one! The plot is pure filth.

***

“Baby?” 

Your soft calls were barely loud enough to be heard over your boyfriend’s latest afrobeats obsession, which blasted through your shared home’s sound system. You lazily kicked off your red bottoms, a guttural sigh of relief escaping you as your exhausted feet relaxed out of the painful position it required to sport such beautiful but impractical shoes all day.

On your way to hunt down the love of your life, you stopped by your study, not even bothering to turn on the light as you discarded your Chloe work tote in your chair and closed the door behind you. 

After closing the biggest case of your career, you would not need to see the interior of either of your offices for a week and that almost brought tears of joy to your eyes. You and Aaron did not even have the energy to plan a trip. Having just wrapped a project two weeks prior, you both were overjoyed to spend a week at home wrapped up in each other.

You rolled your shoulders. Prayerfully, your boyfriend would take pity on you and give you a massage to ease the knots that took up residence in your back. You lazily made your way to the kitchen, knowing where you’d find the man you loved - but currently did not like. 

His back was to the arched entryway as you snuck in behind him, stealing a grape from his masterful charcuterie board that sat nearby. 

Despite your righteous annoyance at him, you never missed an opportunity to simply admire Aaron in his element. Like most actors, he suffered from the curse of always having to be “on.” But in the sanctuary of your home, he could just be Aaron, your gentle, loving, goofy, carefree boyfriend. 

And it certainly helped that he looked positively delicious today, setting a stupid table for a stupid dinner you didn’t want to host. He did every day but something was about him today in particular just made you want to sink to your knees and worship him with your tongue. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today. You were pissed off. 

And that lust simply soured into red hot annoyance at the surprise guest your too-kind boyfriend invited to dinner. And while you never usually complained about company,  after months of endless days and sleepless and sexless nights, your vision of a relaxing evening was not entertaining a third wheel. 

It was a tall glass of wine, an amazing meal. And… then having your daddy twist you into a literal human pretzel and fuck the stress out of your body. 

But he hated you, clearly.

A sentiment you articulated (along with others) in a snarky text hours earlier. But Aaron, forever unbothered by your theatrics, merely responded that you should trust your daddy because… 

Daddy knows best. 

And despite the strong independent lawyer inside you who demanded control and to be right (and she usually was), you knew he was right about this one thing. Aaron could always see exactly what you needed. 

And despite your attitude earlier, you still spied his traditional gift for you after winning a big case neatly displayed on the white marble counter: your favorite cake from a bakery nearby and a bouquet of tulips. The varying vibrant shades of pink made something in your soul smile. He knew you too well.

Your silent studying did not go unnoticed for long, Aaron turning around not even startled to find you there. His expressive eyes lit up at the sight of your half grin, which you tried to suppress because you were supposed to be angry at him, and the hand on your hip as you leaned into the counter. 

He was in front of you before you could blink, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into his embrace. His muscles were threatening to destroy the fabric of his crisp button down, many of his clothes ill equipped to handle the additional muscles he gained for his latest project. 

“Hey princess.” 

Forever a brat and annoyed at the implosion of your plans for the night, you jerked your head to the side as he kissed you, forcing his lips to catch your cheek instead. 

Aaron merely let out a low chuckle, knowing that your bark was far worse than your bite. 

When it came to Aaron, you were about as strong as a lawn chair. You’d fold without resistance. Every. Single. Time. You always thought you were God’s strongest soldier… until you met Aaron. Kryptonite indeed. 

“Still mad at me?” 

“Yes,” you folded your arms as best you could against your chest, scoffing. “Between you playin’ the british assassin all around LA and me trying to negotiate with that asshole partner, we’ve had zero time together and no time to relax. And our first real free night in months without briefs and lines to run, you wanna play captain save a nigga with your friend? And then you spring it on me on some last minute shit. Those lips aren’t gonna get you outta this one, A.” 

“I know, I know, Y/N. And I’m sorry for messing up your plans for the night. I know how excited you are to finally have a break. But I’m trying to surprise you so please just trust me. If I know you like I think I do, you’re gonna like it.” 

“Well I think we’re about to make history then.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The first time you get a surprise wrong. Honestly it’s probably a good thing? You’ve always been a bit too perfect to be real,” you added, causing him to grin. “But the only thing I would like right now is for you to fuck me into oblivion. So unless this dinner guest can help with that, I doubt I’ll like it. But what’s done is done. Now let me go so I can get ready.” 

A stare down. Another moment where you’d inevitably crumbled. Because only Jesus himself was strong enough to stare in those eyes and not give this man everything you had. 

However, to your surprise, he looked away from you first, nodding and letting his arm fall so you could head upstairs. 

You started to walk out of the kitchen, prepared to sulk the last of your frustrations away before putting on the smile of a gracious host when you heard him call after you. 

“What if they can?”

“What if they can what?” you glanced behind you. 

“Help me fuck you into oblivion.” 

You lurched forward, his words stopping you dead in your tracks. 

No… he couldn’t mean… The tiniest thrill of excitement jolted across your brain like a shooting star. But you steadied yourself. He couldn’t possibly mean what you were thinking. So you played it off. 

“Ha. ha. Ha. Very funny, A.” 

“You hear me laughin’?” 

You slowly turned around to find him behind you, his eyes brimmed with pure lust. But nothing in his face signaled he was joking about a single thing. 

“Remember all those fantasies you told me about, princess?” 

It would take lifetimes for you to forget. You had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life telling Aaron every filthy fantasy you had while he fucked you on your apartment balcony. You prayed they were long forgotten by breakfast the next morning, but he remembered every single one. And ever since, he made it his mission to help you fulfill them. 

“Wait… you’re ser- you’re serious? You want to-” 

It was most certainly a fantasy but the practicalities of it seemed unrealistic. You never seriously considered that Aaron would ever try to arrange it.

He merely smirked and pressed his lips to the top of your nose. His voice was low, hypnotic and mesmerizing. 

“Got a few treats upstairs for you. Go get ready.” 

“Wait… we aren’t gonna talk about this?? You aren't gonna give me details?” 

“Nah. You’re gonna be a good girl for me tonight right, baby? I’d hate to punish you in front of company, princess.” 

But EYE wouldn't hate that. A voice echoed in your brain, the thought of a spanking making you want to disobey just for the hell of it.

“Of course you’d like the sound of that,” he teased you before his eyes softened a bit. You could tell he saw it. That kernel of hesitation at the whole affair, that side of you that had to be in the driver’s seat wanting to talk and litigate every risk before you leaned into the pleasure of it.

“Hey, Y/N… baby. This is just going to be a fun night. And the moment it’s no longer fun for you, we stop. Just like that. Just say the word. If you aren’t feelin' it and him, we end it and it's still just a fun night with a friend. Understand?” 

You nodded before correcting yourself so he didn’t have to. “Yes, I understand. Your surprise might’ve won out again… maybe you really are perfect.”

He shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been tryin' to tell you. Just gotta trust me. Now go get ready. Only wear what I laid out for you.” 

Every step to your master suite pumped up your adrenaline. And made you fall deeper in love with your boyfriend. And his ability to fulfill your needs and desires and center your pleasure. He knew your limits, your boundaries, your needs and never wavered. 

A black cocktail dress waited for you with strappy gold heels. Along with your gold choker, with “good girl” engraved on its gold charm and your gold bullet.

Your skin felt electrified, a buzz radiating from every cell as you readied yourself. You weren’t surprised at the slick already pooling at the crest of your thick thighs when you slid your thong to the side and eased the bullet into you. You hissed at the cool silicone against your heat but you persisted. It was uncomfortable for a moment but as you continued dressing, you long forgot its presence. You knew its companion, a small gold remote, was with your master. Exactly where it should be.

You examined yourself in the mirror, hands running over your soft curves as you studied yourself. You had to admit that Aaron picked well. The dress accentuated his favorite parts of your body, hugging your hourglass shape so your ass and thighs were on display. The cutouts and mirroring each side of your ribs and plunging neckline would give him easy access to your boobs, which were begging to be freed from the confines of the tight bodice. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous baby.” 

“Thank you. You picked well.” 

“Final touch?” he picked up your choker, which waited for him on the bed. He always had the privilege of putting it on you. Because it signified the official start of your game. When the choker was on, your pleasure, your body was his to command, his to give and his to take away. Sweet surrender of control to the person you trusted most in this world. 

He towered over you as he stood behind you and placed the piece on your neck.  

“We’re gonna have dinner, dessert and then if you’re comfortable with continuing the night, just ask him to stay for a drink. Otherwise, the night will end. Understand?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” His hands traced the hourglass shape of your curves, his hands stilling only once along the near-indistinguishable lines of your thong. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, the shrill chime of their doorbell interrupted him. He sighed, turning you around in his arms. “Later. Ready to have some fun?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

Even in heels you had to stretch yourself to reach his lips. He took your hand, leading you down the stairs, some of your nerves being replaced by sudden intrigue. 

“You really aren’t gonna tell me who it is??” 

“What would be the fun in that?” With a wink back at her, he jogged the remaining steps and crossed the foyer with the quickness of an athlete and swung their door open. 

“Hey man! Thanks for coming by. Glad we could do this.” 

“Definitely, definitely. Thanks for the invite, man.” 

And that was the second time today you found yourself stopped dead in your tracks. The Michael B. Jordan stepped into your foyer, his charisma and star-powered charm oozing out of his pores as if he naturally produced it. 

Fuck me. He invited your celebrity crush, the main character of far more wet dreams than you’d ever admit out loud. And while Aaron was it for you, if you could ever take advantage of the “celebrity hall pass” concept, Michael Bae Jordan would be at the top of your list.

Well, that’s what he’s here to do. Daddy does indeed know best. 

At first, you had a feeling you’d be taking Aaron’s out. But now? Hell would have to freeze over before you gave up the opportunity of your dreams. Part of you cursed yourself for not guessing it was him to begin with. Aaron had been in a total bromance with the man since they wrapped filming. But now you had more questions. How did this even come up? How do you organize a threesome? Is this just a normal thing to talk about?

Who the fuck cares? You’re about to have the night of your life. 

You pushed them to the back of your mind, filing them away for tomorrow.

“And I don’t think you met my girl yet officially, but this is Y/N." The introduction forced your legs to start to move again, down the stairs and toward him.

“Geesh… they didn’t make lawyers like this when I was comin’ up. Michael,” he introduced himself. He held out his arms for a hug. “Aaron’s told me so much about you.” 

“Good thin-,” You started to toss your boyfriend a teasing grin as you closed the last couple of feet to return Michael’s hug. However, just as you were in arm’s length, the forgotten vibrator nestled inside you came alive. You let out an involuntary cross between a sigh and a moan that couldn’t be hidden. 

Could the ground open and just swallow me? 

Michael’s eyes glistened with amusement, letting you know he was not ignorant to your reality. 

“You good, baby girl?” he asked, with a knowing grin as you tried to avoid squirming in his embrace.

“Y-Yea, yea. Just h-had a chill. I was just gonna say that I hope he’s t-telling you good things,” you stammered, the jolts of pleasure siphoning off fractions of your vocal ability.

“Only good things, I promise. Just that you were the sexiest and best lawyer he’d ever seen. He was right about the first part, I’m sure he’s right about the second too.” 

“Hardly the best.” Your tone and smile were the picture of humility at his praise. You liked the sound of it on his lips, you also didn’t hate the way “baby girl" sounded when he said it too. 

“Y/N is being hella modest. She’s about to be the youngest junior partner in her firm’s history. And the first black woman.” 

“Aye! That’s what’s up! So we’re celebrating tonight?”

You grinned. “Don’t wanna get ahead of ourselves… just office gossip you know. We’ll see in a week.” 

Fuck, he was sexier than you imagined. Somehow tvs and movies simply didn’t do him justice. Like Aaron, he was at his peak physical weight, his muscles thick and lethal. They both stood in front of you looking like Gods, cut from the most perfect stone. 

“I-it’s just so great to meet you. You’re one of my favorite actors.” 

Michael drank you in like you were the finest glass of scotch, savoring every inch of skin exposed, every curve on prominent display. You felt hot underneath his stare, as if he had xray vision to see the promised lands this dress covered. You almost wilted like a flower under his intensity. 

We aren’t gonna make it through dinner, you thought to yourself. Or I can just be dinner. 

It was not your worst thought by far. The vision was quite enticing. Aaron ordering you to strip for them before displaying you on the table so they could feast on you. Your eyes darkened with clouds of lust. You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath, noting the amused glance that passed between the two men. Were all your thoughts broadcasting to them? 

“We… should go into the dining room. Dinner’s basically ready,” you offered as the lamiest attempt to escape the spotlight of them. You held your hand out for his coat, giving both men a perfect view of your ass as you turned to hang it in the closet. 

You didn’t attempt to hide the grin at the quiet but distinguishable wolf whistle from Michael. It felt good to know he liked what he saw. 

And the feeling was most certainly mutual. Michael and Aaron kept you laughing all through dinner as they enthralled you with stories from set. He was engaging and funny and you loved the genuine brotherhood between him and your boyfriend. There was nothing but raw sexual chemistry between you but that was all you needed. Mutual attraction.

The only disappointing aspect of dinner was the utter silence between your legs. Once he turned it off at the start of dinner, Aaron didn’t touch that remote again, much to your chagrin. Two hours and several glasses of wine at the dinner table with two men gently caressing your arms and exposed thighs was a recipe for disaster. And you knew he could tell, see how worked up they had made you, how desperately you wanted more attention. 

By dessert, you stopped retaining their words. They were utter nonsense to you because there were far more important things to consider. Like Michael’s dominating muscles and large hands, wondering how strong his grip will be when he fucks you from behind. Punishingly so, you prayed. 

You swung between wanting to savor the compliments and worship of two men with needing to be filled, a need that almost had you begging them to fuck you right amongst the dinner plates. But you knew Aaron. The night was young and he liked to play with his prize. 

By everyone’s fifth glass of wine, the conversation started to wind down, Michael getting up to head home. 

“Thanks so much for this, man. Appreciate the invite. Good to catch up n shit.”

“Oh you have to leave so soon?” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, coupled with the pleas of your signature puppy eyes. 

“I probably should… Gettin’ late, can’t take up your whole night.” 

You assessed the moment briefly, confirming with every cell in your body and functioning brain cell in your head that you needed this more than the oxygen in the room. 

So instead of wishing this walking wet dream a good night, you said, “You should stay for one more drink. We got this amazing bottle when we went to the South of France for our anniversary. Baby, we should open it and sit outside? It’s so nice out. We’re down to keep the good times going if you are.” 

“You sure?”

“I insist! Besides, between the three of us, I think we can find some ways to entertain ourselves." The implication in your words couldn't be clearer. You were in and you were ready. 

“I’ll grab that bottle from the cellar. Take Michael outside and make him comfortable, princess. Show him a good time while I’m gone.”

And with that, he turned your vibrator back on. He chose the second setting, which was just distracting enough to make the simple tasks of walking, talking and speaking exponentially harder for you. 

“Yes sir.” 

You forced your feet toward the giant sliding glass doors that led to your expansive backyard. You glanced behind you to find Michael jogging up behind you as he slid something into his pocket.

You tried to distract yourself from the pulses against your g-spot, the growing tension in your belly as pleasure started to build ever so slowly, by turning on the soft string lights hanging above your patio and the speakers to play music. 

“Yall got a great view.” 

“It was definitely the selling point of the house,” you smiled, awkwardly standing behind one of the chairs across from the couch.

His stance was wide, powerful and assured as he stared at you. 

“You gonna sit with me?” When you didn’t move, he sighed. “He said you were obedient. But maybe you just need an incentive…” 

Your knees almost gave out beneath you as he increased the setting to five. 

“If you wanna feel better, I think you should sit, baby girl,” he offered, his voice low and comforting. “I don’t bite, promise.”

The menacing glint in his eyes let you know that he most certainly would bite if asked. And you would most certainly ask. 

“S-sorry,” you awkwardly, quickly finding your way to the couch next to him. You started to sit when he beckoned you closer with a mere gesture of his finger. By the time he had you where he wanted you, you were sitting on his lap. 

You leaned into his chest, your eyes falling closed as pleasure shot through you with every pulsing vibration. You bit the inside of your cheek to avoid moaning. 

“You ok, Y/N? Seem a little flustered?” His fingers created flames all across your bare thigh as he subtly pushed up the fabric of your dress. 

There was still something… tamed about how he touched you and caressed you. He came so close to the spots that demanded a firm strong hand, he held back every time. Like right now. Drawing featherlike patterns on your exposed side, toying with the edges of your thong but not shifting them to the side like you craved. 

No, he simply savored the time teasing you, enjoying the soft moans his touch and the bullet caused. 

“I’... I’m… fine, t-thank you,” you whispered back. “Just… o-overwhelmed.” 

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” his husky voice demanded in your ear. At the sound, you couldn't suppress the moan of pleasure that escaped your lips. You rolled your hips, chasing more.

“Y-Yes…” you whimpered. “P-Please…” 

“How’s my girl treating you, Michael?” Aaron’s voice interrupted their moment, his eyes piercing with desire as you writhed and rode another man's thigh. You looked perfect, unrestrained and free. 

“Oh she’s perfect. You got a great girl here, A.”

“I know… she is. But she disobeyed me earlier so before she can cum, we have to punish her. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

“Y-yes sir.” You didn’t even know what you did wrong but you weren’t going to argue or push back on him. Because this was already like entering a promised land of bliss. To hear him speak so openly about your punishment to another man while he masturbated you on his lap? Aaron was right. This was the destressor you really required. 

“Can you tell Michael and daddy what you did wrong, princess?” 

You raked your brain, knowing that “I don’t know” would only increase your punishment. Not that you would have particularly minded. Frequent punishments were simply the norm for a proud and loud brat. 

And then it hit you, such a small and silly infraction that Michael’s fingers were currently playing with. 

“I… w-wore my panties w-when I wasn’t allowed,” you answered. 

“That’s right. And we don’t cover up daddy’s prize, do we?” 

“No… daddy.” 

“You want to be a good girl for Michael and I… don’t you?”  

His voice was hypnotic. Despite the pleasure disobeying him brought, you could not help but want to please him, to be his good girl again. 

“Y-yes, daddy.” 

“And good girls deserve what?” 

“Punishment before pleasure.” 

“That’s right, baby. So tonight, Michael’s gonna have the honor. How many spankings you think our slut deserves?” 

“I’d say 25… 30?” 

“30 feels fair. What do you think, princess?” 

“Wh-whatever daddy wants,” you whimpered. That was the only acceptable response. Besides, you knew Aaron knew your limits and wouldn’t let Michael cross them.  “That's right, baby girl. She can be good when she wants to, just needs remindin’ of her place sometimes,” he mused. And with that, Michael turned off the bullet, a groan of pure frustration escaping your lips.

Punishment before pleasure, you reminded yourself. Why can’t my punishment be sucking their dicks or something?? 

Michael helped you up, your legs feeling slightly weak after they robbed you of your orgasm. They didn’t bother trying to carry you up the stairs, Michael merely directed you to your deep forest green sectional in the living room and leaned you over one of its arms. He slid off his belt and tied your hands behind your back, ensuring they were loose enough to avoid injury but tight enough not to escape without effort. 

You were deliciously helpless. 

“Fuck, that’s a gorgeous sight,” you could hear Michael mutter as the two men merely stared at you, boobs pressed out due to your hands being bound, your ass high in the air from being bent over. “Her ass is perfect, man.”

“It’ll look even better when you’re done. Don’t hold back. She loves that shit and she knows our safe word.” 

You were glad he assured Michael that you would adore the sweet sting of his palm. You encouraged Aaron to put his entire weight into your spankings when you took on the role as his princess. Forever a gentle soul at his core, he did not like the idea of causing you real, significant pain, preferring to lean heavily into other aspects of dominating you. 

It certainly made you fall more in love with him, witnessing his gentleness and concern for your well-being to such a degree. You supposed it was the greenest of flags that it took about 10 long discussions for him to feel comfortable. And even years later, he still checked in throughout to make sure you still enjoyed it. You weren’t a masochist by any means spankings in particular were more than enticing to you. It left you drenched and on the cusp on an orgasm without Aaron doing anything else. 

Even more so right now with your ass presented to the two men like a hard-earned prize. You subconsciously stuck your ass out further in search of something. A touch, a slap… literally anything. Your body was reeling. 

And you did not even care who was behind you to give you what you needed.

“She’s fuckin’ desperate for it.” 

“Yea, she’ll be begging you for it in a minute. I mean I was gone for what? 5 minutes, princess? And I come back and you're humpin' his leg like a filthy whore? And you loved it didn't you? Wanted more? I bet you wanna beg him to tear that ass up right now, don't you?” 

Daddy knows me too well. Because the word please was on the cusp of your lips, begging to tumble over like water on a cliff. 

You moaned as two hands gripped the firm meat of your ass, kneading and caressing you before they found the helm of your dress. You knew exactly whose hands they were, confirming that Aaron was indeed giving Michael the pleasure of administering your punishment. 

His fingers pushed your dress up the rest of the way to expose your ass cheeks, an unmistakable wet spot at the center of your thong. 

“Don’t think she’ll be needing this anymore. Whatchu think?” Michael asked Aaron as his finger hooked the delicate fabric around her hips. 

“Nahhh, definitely not.” 

“FUCK!” You cried out as your thong was unceremoniously ripped clean from your body, the fabric leaving welts on your skin. 

You felt his fingers graze your lips.

“All this for us, kitten?” 

You merely whimpered an affirmative answer as he presented his fingers covered in your juices. He stuck them in your mouth, you sucking your cum clean off his fingers.

"Can't wait to make you cum all over my tongue, kitten. You taste so fuckin' good."

“P-Please…” You thought you’d implode if you continued to suppress your desperation. Your body felt as if you were betraying her. Why weren’t you trying hard enough, begging loud enough to earn the pleasure you were being deprived of. 

“See?” 

“You weren’t lyin’. Tell me what you want, kitten”  

He’s gonna make me say it?? 

The words were caught in your throat, blocked by a mental barrier to admit such a depraved thought out loud. 

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I suggest you say that shit. Cause we got all night.” 

The lethal warning in his tone forced your thighs together, an electric shock through your body. He was a natural. And the dominance in his voice was all it took to rip the weeds of hesitation right out of your soil. 

“S-spank me… please,” Half words, half sobs filled the quiet air. This was untenable. Could you die from this? It felt like you might die from this. “I n-need it. P-Punish me… please.” 

The first vicious sting of his hand did make a real sob of joy escape, the sound reverberating through the living room. 

You buried your face in the couch cushion for the first few in a foolish attempt to quiet your mounting screams of pain wrapped in the sweet pleasure. His brute strength ensured you felt the ache of every hit. On par with Aaron when your punishments were severe. You were still feeling it days later. 

Your head pulled back, his fist wrapped around your curls.

“Do that again and I add five. Understand?” 

“Y-yes, yes. I’m sorry,” you moan, keeping your eyes forward and head up. 

You felt familiar hands cradle your head, Michael releasing your strains to play with your slick folds in between each blow. 

Aaron’s body came into view as he held your chin, forcing you to stare into his beautiful eyes. Clouded with lust, you still could see every ounce of his love and devotion. 

“You ok, precious?” he whispered. “Got 10 more.” 

“M-More.”

“You’re such a good slut for me, baby. I love you.” His eyes softened a bit. “You want a treat while Michael gives you your punishment? I wouldn’t usually but tonight is all about you, princess.” 

You licked your lips, the sudden sparkle in your eyes answering his question without words. You were impatient at the pace he went to unbutton his pants. 

He knew how much you loved sucking dick. Genuinely loved it. On more than one occasion, you came home after a long day and immediately dropped to your knees to serve him unprompted. Of course, it always ended up leading to him giving you back the same pleasure tenfold. So it was a win all around. 

You licked the beads of precum from his head before enveloping him into your mouth, moaning around him just as Michael rained down the last of your punishment. 

Fire. Your skin felt hot and inflamed with every bite of his palm against your skin. And they sent jolts of lust straight to your clit. 

“You’re taking your punishment so well. You’re not gonna disobey me again, are you?” 

Strings of your spit stayed connected to his dick as he pulled back so you could answer him. 

“Never again, daddy!”  

“That’s my good girl. You took that so well. Didn’t she?” 

You hissed as he gently massaged your hot skin. Fuck, why did his hands feel so good? 

“She did. You think she’s ready, A?” 

“I think she is.” 

You found a secret joy in the way they spoke only to you to dole out orders, but then talked about you to each other like you were merely a piece of furniture.

Aaron scooped you up in his arms, your body immediately nestling into his chest as he carried you to your master suite. He tossed you on the bed like a rag doll as Michael closed the door to your suite. And for a few moments, they simply stood there. Towering over you, intoxicated by the power and anticipation, they didn’t speak or move. They just watched you squirm beneath them. 

“You know I love you right?” Aaron broke character for a single moment. 

“Of course.” 

“Good. Cause it ain’t gon' seem like it for a minute. You know how daddy wants you.” 

Fuck. Yes. 

There was a challenging grin on your face as you removed the last obstacle to their conquest, leaving you bare before them. With great pleasure, you shifted onto your hands and knees and sank into position. Presenting yourself to him. Vulnerable, exposed. To two apex predators. 

And you were ready to be devoured. 

Michael pounced with such swiftness of jaguar indeed, you suddenly finding yourself straddling his hips. His punishing grip around your lower back kept you flush to his chest as his lips claimed yours. 

Frenzied, animalistic, downright sloppy kisses as you two gave into your most base desires. There was no love here, just lust in its most instinctual level. You two fought for dominance in your kisses, you mainly showing him that you were no damsel.

He moved you with ease, like you were a feather, turning you so your head dangled off the edge of the bed.

“I think our kitten needs a bit of attention.” 

His lips kissed a burning trail down your body, veering off course to engulf each of your nipples in his wet mouth, while his hand played with your throbbing clit. 

You whined, feeling his breath against your sex, his grip holding your hips firmly to the bed to stop you from getting any more pleasure than he decided. 

“So eager.” 

He licked up the wetness that spread to your thighs, still avoiding touching you there. He was a menace. The devil really.

You screamed as he wrapped his lips around your bud, every nerve ending in your body zeroed in on him.  

Aaron guided your agape mouth onto his hard member again, your tongue licking him like he was your favorite lollipop. He exchanged the bullet for his fingers, easing a second one inside your pussy. 

Your litany of curse words were indecipherable with Aaron’s mouth ramming down your throat. He did not let you control the pace one bit. Your mouth was merely a means to an end for him. 

You gagged, tears streaming down your face from the sensory overload of having them work in tandem to bring you pain, pleasure, and everything in between.

You arrived at the cliffs of pleasure far faster than you expected, your body ready to fall for the first time all night. Your thighs tightened around Michael’s head as you tried to control it. Foolish it sounded, to stop the fall. But you couldn’t tumble just yet. 

You didn’t stop your task of sucking to ask. Instead, you simply stared up at him with plea-filled round eyes.

“Cum on his tongue, princess. Cum for daddy.” 

You dove off the cliff with earnest as Michael chose that moment to add a fourth finger, finger fucking you with relentless speed.You let your eyes fall close and surrendered to the crashing waves and thrilling currents that pulled you into oblivion. Right where you wanted to be. 

Only Aaron could find the cherry on top to this already perfect sundae as he spilled down your throat. It was typically reserved for her treat as he knew you adored swallowing. And you were grateful he found you deserving. 

Aaron took a step back, you pouting at the loss of his dick in your mouth.

“Don’t worry, princess. Won’t be your last taste for the night.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply, a soft whimper escaping at how familiar his lips felt. Home. “I think you need to thank Michael for punishing you earlier and making you cum. How do good whores say thank you?” 

"On their knees, daddy."

You moved off the bed and onto the carpet, Michael already sliding off his boxers. Your voice hitched as his girthy thick member sprang from his boxers.

He smirked told her he knew what he was wielding and how to use it well. Admittedly, you had only had sex with three men in your life, two of whom were present. But you felt confident in saying these two Gods among lesser men had the most impressive dicks you’d ever seen. 

You’d never live down the humiliation of your near panic attack during you and Aaron’s first time. 

“I don’t think you’ll fit,” you remember muttering before trying to escape to hide in his bathroom, your brain overloaded with the fear that he would somehow break you. 

But like the perfect gentlemen he was, he held you close and calmed you with sweet kisses and talked you through every inch as he sank into you for the first time. He naturally reached regions you thought were anatomically impossible. You often referred to it as his weapon, one that left you utterly immobile too often. 

Michael was similarly blessed and highly favored. Though he lacked a bit of Aaron’s length, his had a girth to it that you knew would cause a stinging stretch. It would be different and you liked the idea of that. As much as your body wanted to skip to that part, you also were feral for a taste of him. 

Aaron sat in the arm chair across the room, the perfect view to watch as Michael slid his dick between your plump lips. He stroked his dick back to life watching you spit and gulp down his dick.

“That’s right. Fuckkkk. Get it sloppy, baby girl. Fuck your throat feels good.” 

Your body glowed at his praise, Aaron grinning to himself. He adored seeing you in this light, gaining a new perspective to how you felt freedom and pleasure. He never wanted to stop learning how to love you better, please you better. 

Inexplicable pride swelled when your eyes connected with him, your dilated pupils lighting up at his smile.

“You ready for me to fuck that pussy, kitten?” Michael demanded, punctuating each word with a deep thrust into the back of your throat. Attempting to respond was a foolish endeavor with him balls deep down your throat. 

He pulled out of your mouth and lifted you up to your feet, immediately moving you into his desired position. He bent you over the edge of the bed, one hand glued to your hip while the other pushed your head into the mattress. He positioned you so you were staring right at Aaron.  

Being watched. New kink unlocked. You were an actress on display and he was your director, in full control. And it was time to watch his masterpiece. 

Your eyes fluttered out of enticing humiliation and bliss as Michael’s head bounced against your pulsing clit. 

“Eyes open, princess. And on me."

And this was a moment that made you question who you truly were. A good girl or a disobedient slut? The devil on your shoulder didn’t need deliberation time. You were a disobedient whore. You wanted to be utterly spent when this night was over. 

But you also knew he knew that, which is why he picked a task he knew you’d fail either way. You could try as hard as you wanted, it would be impossible to maintain eye contact. 

“You ready for Michael to fuck you, princess?” 

“Yesssss! Fuck me… I need it.” It was as critical to your survival as air. 

You immediately failed at your task, your eyes clenching shut as he pushed inside of you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you hissed, begging for the moment when the lightening flash of pain subsided and pleasure took root. 

“Fuckin’ tight ass pussy on you, kitten,” he gave you a few moments to adjust. When your expletives turned into quiet moans, he moved. 

"Won't tell you this shit again, princess. Eyes open and on me or I start spankin’ you when it’s my turn. And you ain’t gon’ like that shit.” 

“Sorryyyy, dadddyyyyy.” 

His hips snapped viciously into you, his dick curving into your g-spot with every thrust. 

Bliss. 

Joy. 

You panted as  he fucked you with relentless precision, he didn’t let a moment go to waste as he fucked you. His grip along your hip was bruising as he pushed and pulled against your body. Never the lazy lover, you met every thrust, using your arms as leverage to throw your fat ass back at him. 

“That’s it! Take this dick, slut! You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy??” he demanded, a hard smack coming down on your still aching ass when you didn’t answer fast enough. 

There was no way he actually believed you could form coherent thoughts right now. 

“I… love it! D-... don’t stop! Fuck… I’m gonna cum!” Your eyes had not stayed on your master as they should’ve, nor had you even tried that hard. But you deliberately cast them on him to beg for permission. “C-Can I cum daddy?? He feels so gooddddd…” 

“Why the fuck would I let you cum? You disobedient whore? Can’t follow simple fuckin’ instructions. 

Well shit. He was pissed. 

Your face was one of sadness at upsetting your daddy but everything inside was filled to the brim with glee. You weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. And then you could look forward to a day of aftercare and pampering from your love. 

“P-please, please. I-I’m sorry!! I tried. I-I can’t…” Michael was not helping your cause as you pleaded your case in front of a less than sympathetic judge. He found some superhuman ability to increase his already punishing pace, jackhammering into your g-spot. “Let me cum, pleasseeeee! I can’t hold it.” 

“She’s clenchin’ on my dick, brah.” 

You were going to cum either way, inevitably, but you were holding strong for those magic words. Moments before you felt yourself starting to break, you finally heard him.

“Cum for me.” 

“She’s creamin’ on this dick. This some good pussy, my man! You one lucky nigga.” He didn’t slow his pace as he fucked you through your second orgasm. "That's right, cum all over this dick, baby."

How were you not spent yet? No, you still wanted so much more. 

You lost track of your orgasms as Michael moved you into his desired positions, fucking you every type of way that suited him. And all the while, Aaron just watched, commanding your eyes to him in the moments leading up to your orgasms, forcing you to hold his gaze across the dark room. 

You thought the Earth had reversed on its axis somehow. 

“I’ll let you decide where you want it, kitten. On you or down your throat.” 

“Cum on my ass!” 

“Whatever baby girl wants.” He pulled out of you and sprayed your back and ass cheeks with his seed. You sighed out of contentment as you laid there, knowing your night was far from over. But you were grateful for the brief reprieve. 

Michael shifted off to the side as Aaron rejoined you, the Brit studying your ass painted in another man’s cum. If there was a way be any harder than he already was, he would be it right now. 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, princess. I love you so much, you’re such a good girl for me. You ready for daddy, now?” 

You nodded enthusiastically. Michael was amazing but no one fucked you quite like Aaron. Those were the simple facts. 

“Good girl,” he flipped you and pushed your legs up so your knees were essentially up at your ears. 

This was a frankly evil thing to do, to start with this position. It was simplistic but he would pound you so deep, you saw fucking stars. At this rate, you would be tapping out far earlier than you would have hoped. 

“Ahhhh! Yessssss… thank you daddy! Love your dick, daddy!” You screamed as he entered you in one fluid motion, ending deep in your guts. 

“You take me so well, baby. You like how deep I’m fuckin’ this pussy?” 

“Yes, yes! Shit! God I love it! Oh Goddddd, fuck, baby…” 

“Ain’t no God to call out to here, princess. Just your masters.”

You gasped at the sudden all consuming emptiness of him exiting you. You felt his hand catch your ankle, which was still in the air where he left you. He dragged you to the edge of the bed and lifted you to your feet. You almost collapsed on your stiff legs but you quickly realized, he was not intending for you to support your own weight long. 

He hinged you at the waist, your fingertips supporting balancing some of your weight until he reentered you and regained control of your hips. He did all the work, holding all your weight with his strength as he fucked you straight into a sweet abyss. Nothing else mattered. Just the two of you. 

Well… three of you. Speaking of which… as if Aaron could read her mind, he says, “Suck him like the whore I know you are.” 

Using his strength to turn you both so you were eye level with Michael’s dick. He was getting hard, rested and ready for round two with ease. Both men looked as if they could do this all night while you knew you looked like you had been fucked just as good as you felt. 

You surrendered your mouth to Michael, allowing the actor to face fuck you to his heart’s content. And you simply enjoyed every moment of them fucking your holes like men possessed. No breaks, no time for breaths. Nothing. Just unforgiving feral fucking. 

You didn’t bother counting the orgasms they gave you as the two men traded places multiple times, using your mouth and pussy to their heart’s content. They worked up a perfect rhythm that brought you thrilling moment after thrilling moment  

“Don’t run, fuckin’ whore! You been takin’ it all night. Came in here with that fuckin' attitude. Take this dick!” Aaron ordered as you shied away from his forceful thrusts as he fucked you doggy style. 

Your body was being driven past overload as they stimulated every part of you. You could barely concentrate on Michael’s dick in front of your face with how Aaron was fucking you, clearly getting the last word of the evening. 

You thought you knew what overstimulation felt like but you had no fucking idea until today. But you knew the orgasm you were building toward would be your best yet, would be worth every moment of this. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum!” Michael called out. 

“I’m close too. Daddy’s gonna cum in this sweet pussy, baby. But first, your other punishment. Cum as much as you want.” 

And with that, he and Michael went utterly and completely feral on your body, chasing one goal: their collective simultaneous pleasure. 

Michael grunted as he painted your face in his cum, much of it landing in your open mouth. He collapsed on the bed next to you, your body immediately crumbling forward without him holding you up. He caressed your skin as Aaron mercilessly fucked you, matching every thrust of his hips forward with a harsh slap to your ass. You knew you would have to endure as many as it took for him to cum.

Shit. You really fucked up.

You screamed and squealed, Michael roughly making out with you and sucked and bit your titties as if you needed more. You and Aaron reached the peaks of your mountains at the same time. At the warmth of him filling your pussy, white blanketed in your vision and sent you free falling into a new stratosphere.

Time felt inconceivable when you opened your eyes again. In your mind, no time had passed but instead of being on the bed, you were surrounded by warmth. Warm water lapped over your aching muscles, something hard propping you up from behind. 

“What’s…” you started to say, trying to lift up when a muscular arm snaked around your chest to hold you flush to him. 

“Relax, relax, princess. You’re good. Take a breath. Just blacked on us for a minute.” 

His voice calmed all the uneasy waters of your soul, you were safe and home with him. There was no better place to be in this life or the next. 

“Where’s… our guest?” Your voice cracked from the overuse of your throat. You rubbed your neck instinctively. 

“I’ll make you some tea when we get out,” he kissed your temple. “And he passed out in one of the guest rooms. I may have told him there was a strong possibility you’d be up for another round in an hour or two. Told me to get him when you finish soakin’ so he can give you a massage.” 

And you knew exactly where the yellow brick road of a massage would lead: to the Emerald Fucking City of Round 4.  

Your libido was just as high, if not higher than Aaron’s. More than once, it had been you demanding rounds 4-6 after he already wore you out during 1-3.

“One day you’re gonna get it wrong, you know?” you tease, allowing your head and back to rest with ease onto his chest. His hands massaged your hips and thighs and breasts, all sore from their spanking and biting. “That feels soooo good. You got the magic touch, baby.” 

  You ok, love? We were rough on you.” 

“More than ok. That was the most… insane and fun thing I’ve ever done. Exactly what I needed and wanted. Thank you, Aaron.” 

“Anything for you, princess. Rest for me, love.” 

You allowed your eyes to flutter closed again, dozing in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms as he continued releasing knots from your muscles. You simply laid there with him, savoring him and the afterglow of being his. 

However, after about 15 minutes, you had rested long enough. This night would end eventually, you wanted to make the most of it with your two daddies. 

“Daddy… I think I’m ready for that massage now,” your eyes glistened with your true intentions, letting Aaron know that you were no close to done. 

He let out a low chuckle of disbelief. “You really are one of a kind, Y/N.” 

“I know,” you winked at him with a playful grin. “Now massage, please.,” you demanded like the spoiled brat you were.

Aaron got out of the bath first, his entire body glistening with water on every perfect panel of muscle and taunt skin. Was it nice being a bead of water sliding down that skin? It might be nice to be a bead of water on his skin. 

He quickly toweled himself off before helping you up, using his arms around you as your legs shook. 

He dried you before laying you back down on the bed, disappearing down the hall while you laid on your stomach and simply waited. 

“Well well well… couldn’t get enough could you, kitten?” 

You heard them before you saw them. 

“No sir.” 

“She’s insatiable. Makes her a good little whore for me, doesn’t it, princess?”

You felt their weight on both sides of the bed. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whined as their fingers started doing the Lord’s work massaging out every knot and kink buried in your limbs. 

You turned your head toward Aaron, reaching up and kissing him softly as a private thank you before laying down again. You closed your eyes and let them work, let them take care of you. 

Whoever said “three’s a crowd” clearly hadn’t met these two.

Tag list: @hxneyclouds @planetblaque @slutsareteacherstoo @theereina @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @apenasumlug4r @motheroffae @blackerthings @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @melaninpov @hiwasteland @yamst3rdamctrl @miyuhpapayuh @dxddykenn @sageispunk @atribecalledqwest @4pfsukuna @beenathembo @throwmymbackout @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

***

A/N: Hoped you enjoyed that as much as I did! Thanks for reading!

[calisturniolo]

CLOTHING HAUL

summary. . . while you were away visiting family in florida chris sent you a video of him showing the clothes you had ordered.

pairing. . . chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings. . . cuteness

you had left chris two weeks ago to go visit your family in florida for a month, and before you left you made a clothing order and while you were on your trip chris sent you a video of him giving you a ‘haul’ of the clothes you bought.

you were laying in your bed, ready to put a show on and go to sleep when you felt your phone vibrate with a bunch of snapchat notifications. when you turned your screen around and saw chris’ name show up you were instantly confused, you and chris never used snapchat to communicate.

chris had sent you some kind of video, considering the amount of notifications you just got from him. he wasn’t one to spam so you were curious as to what he had sent you. pressing his name and opening up the messages, your screen was suddenly filled with the familiar sight of your handsome boyfriend holding up a big bag of the clothes you had ordered online before you left for florida.

a smile instantly came over your face as you realised what he was going to do. his voice began to fill your ears, pretending to be you.

he began speaking in a much higher pitched voice then usual, trying to act like you as he picked up the first piece of clothing from the bag. you couldn’t help but giggle, he was so cute no matter what he did.

“hey guys, today i’ve got a clothes haul. so let’s get started” he said, with a high pitched funny voice.

but as soon as he started talking again but his voice was normal but still pretending it was his haul.

he held up the first top he found in the bag, examining in his hands as he held it up close to the camera. “let’s start with...this adorable top...” he spoke, pretending to act as if it was his own order. but you knew chris well enough to know he knew nothing about girls clothes nor would he ever wear a top like that.

“the adorable top…that looks like it will be see through when i put it on my body — amazing, i love when that happens” he says sarcastically, holding up the strapless white tube top.

he grabbed another one out from the bag, he held it up in his hands with a confused look on his face, “and... what the fuck is this?” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the camera with a cocky grin. he held up a black backless halter top, “and of course this is for when i’m going to an orgy” he jokes as he notices how revealing the top is.

he continued to look through the bag of clothes, each one getting more revealing than the last. he pulled out a black mini skirt, he held it up in front of his face, looking at it with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“and this little skirt is obviously for when i’m feeling frisky” he joked, slightly wiggling his eyebrows with a pout at the camera.

he delved back into the bag, pulling out the next item. he pulled out a packet of thongs, he looked at them with a cheeky smile forming on his face as he held them up for the camera, “and, of course, we can’t forget these. the fucking bit of string that goes up my ass, but at least they have little cute bows on the front.” he chuckled, shaking the packet in his hand.

the bag was beginning to become empty, only two items left. he pulled out a bikini, a thong bikini with a triangle top. he held up the tiny little dark blue bikini, looking at it with a mix of shock and awe, “wow, this is… something else.” he chuckled, holding it up next to his body to compare how small it was to him.

“chat should i model it for yall?” he says with a cheeky giggle, he looks down at the bikini before looking back up at the phone that was propped up videoing him. he smirked before pulling on the bottoms over his shorts, and attempts to put on the top, but gets confused when all the tying comes into play.

he struggled trying to figure out how to tie the top on, his hands getting tangled in the strings as he tried to figure it out. he grumbled under his breath as he struggled, mumbling curses and profanities as he tried to pull the string to tie in a bow around his chest.

“finally” he says as he got it tied, very messily, around his body. he struck a pose, mocking you, “hi my names y/n and this is my new bikini, what do you all think? do i look sexy?” he mocks your voice before breaking character and laughing.

“okay i gotta get this shit off, im embarrassing myself so bad right now” he laughed as he fumbled with the strings and sliding the bottoms off his body. he was about to throw them back in the bag before he saw he had slightly stretched the bikini, “oh shit…sorry baby, i’ll get you a new one.” he said before throwing the bikini in a bag.

he looked at the bag where he had just thrown the bikini, guilt suddenly washing over his face. he knew how excited you were to get that bikini, and he hated the thought of having ruined it for you.

“damn, i can’t believe i stretched it out. i’ll have to get you another one for when you get back.” he muttered to the camera, scratching the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“back to the haul” he says dismissing the bikini before reaching in and taking out the last item, a dress. he held the dress up and looking at it confused due to all the strings and whatnot, “all i see is black lace and a bunch of strings. i’m not even gonna pretend i know what this is supposed to look like but no doubt you’ll look amazing in it.” he smiles before placing all your items back in the bag with a smirk.

“and that concludes my haul, i hope you all loved it. comment and like for more.” he says mocking your voice again, before pressing the end button on the video and pressing send to you.

as you finished watching the video, your face broke out into a wide smile. chris was always so goofy and adorable, and the way he was trying to pretend to be you was just too much. you couldn’t help but giggle at how silly he looked trying to wear the bikini and not knowing what to do with the dress, once your giggles died down you typed out a reply to chris’ videos.

dude are you fr 😭😭😭😭???? i literally just got that and you already stretched it.

but i’ll let it slide since it made me laugh and you’re cute. also that was the best haul i’ve ever watched.

bro really said “for going to an orgy” sooooooo dramatic

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Are the Rival Boss Who Likes You (pt. 2)

Summary: You were in an abusive relationship with your ex-boyfriend who was also in a gang. At a benefit, you run into M/N, your boyfriend's rival, whose mind has been on you since he met you. He helps you escape and takes you to the safety of his apartment.

Warnings: mentions of abusive relationship, but mostly trauma recovery

PART 1

A/N: Without a doubt, the softest thing I have ever written. All of the members' Y/Ns are different though. They have different degrees of trauma and different ways of dealing with it.

I planned to post this days ago but I just couldn't do Jimin and Taehyung's part. I don't know why but I always struggle writing them the most, especially Taehyung ... His character gives me shivers, honestly, in the best way.

Let me know if I should do a part 3.

***

Jin

Although Jin asked if you were hungry, you did not have an appetite in the least. You asked to take a shower however, and Jin lent you some of his clothes to change into. You put on his sweatpants that you needed to roll up at the bottom and a knitted, white cashmere sweater softer than anything you had ever felt before in your life.

The rain only grew stronger outside when you returned to the living area finding Jin by the window, his hands stuck in the pockets of his trousers. He was in deep thought before he noticed you were back.

"How are you feeling?" asked Jin.

"Better," you nodded. The hot shower helped you calm down some although it also made you exponentially more tired.

"How are you?" you asked Jin in turn. He looked at you.

"Good," Jin nodded softly, a small smile on his lips. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and the yawns that you desperately tried to suppress but failed.

"You should try and get some rest," said Jin reassuringly and showed you to the guest bedroom.

Once you you wished Jin goodnight, you climbed into the bed eagerly and pulled the covers over you. The walls of the room were a shade of grey so pale it was almost blue, with a white ceiling and a matching carpet. The bed had an ornate white frame in the same style as the vanity table and the closets along the wall. You only managed to look yourself in the mirror for a moment when brushing your teeth, feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You could not believe you asked Jin for help and asked him to expose himself. It was a moment of desperation, you knew, but it did not make you feel anything better - or helped you fall asleep any faster.

It was only towards dawn that exhaustion took you and you managed to get a couple of hours of good sleep, but for most of the night, your mind could produce nothing but nightmares. You dreamed of Kang, of your family, and even of Jin. Yet even though you did not sleep much, you still felt better when you rolled out of bed in mid-morning.

You could hear the movement in the kitchen when you opened the door of the guest bedroom. You did not know why but you tiptoed down the hallway, slowly peeking into the kitchen. Jin was at the counter cutting up some fruit, a pot of French press getting ready. He was wearing a pale blue shirt and black trousers, an elegant wristwatch shinning on his hand.

Jin could feel your gaze on him, having heard the door of your bedroom open.

"Good morning," said Jin when he saw you half-leaning, half-hiding behind the wall of the hallway that opened into the kitchen one the one side and living area on the other.

"Morning," you said quietly as you joined Jin in the kitchen.

"Do I ... I can I help with anything?" you asked, feeling completely useless.

"It's okay," smiled Jin. "There's coffee."

You nodded and uttered a small 'thank you', your eyes drifting to the dining table. It was sat beautifully with napkins, little bowls, cups and glasses.

"Cream, sugar?" asked Jin as he poured you some French press. You stared at him.

"Why are you so kind to me?" you found yourself asking. The pang of guilt you have been feeling was no longer just a pang but a heavy mass that weighed on your chest.

Jin leaned his long arms against the counter, the smile leaving his eyes beneath a forming frown.

"Why did you even help me?" you asked almost desperately. Your eyes filled with tears suddenly and you hated yourself for it.

"You asked me," said Jin somberly, staring down at you.

"But I shouldn't have!" you cried, wiping away your tears that kept on falling. "You should have said no ..."

"What are you talking about?" asked Jin astounded. He took your palm and squeezed your fingers in his hand reassuringly.

"If something happened to you for helping me ..." you shook your head, hiding your eyes behind your free hand as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

Jin watched you, taken back by your words. His heart weighed heavy in his chest to see you cry.

"I should have never gotten you into this," you whispered once you managed to calm down a little. "You're the only friend I got."

Jin tugged on your hand gently and pulled you to him, his arms wrapping around your body. You did not know how to react at first but your hands soon found their way around Jin's shoulders as you curled up against his chest.

"You didn't get me into anything, Y/N," said Jin definitively. "You got yourself out of something."

You nodded as you pulled away, trying to wipe away the tear stains but Jin beat you to it. His large hands cupped your face as he brushed away your tears with his thumbs and made you look up at him.

"Now ... Cream, sugar?" Jin smiled warmly.

Namjoon

You looked around the living area whilst Namjoon disappeared to get you some clothes to change into. His place was very different from what you expected by the look of him. Although in truth, you knew the problem was that you did not know him at all. The thought made you nervous and yet not as nervous as what your night, your life with Kang would have been like if you had not left with Namjoon tonight.

Your eyes skimmed over the books on the shelves, the magazines and newspapers on the coffee table. It was raining outside, millions of drops gliding down the window-wall that opened into an atrium with a small tree. It was pleasant inside, however, with the soft carpet beneath your feet and plants from orchids to bonsai everywhere you looked.

You thought Namjoon would live in a tall skyscraper and yet the drive took you to the outskirts of the city, to a short apartment building. You turned back to the atrium and frowned, wondering whether he owned the entire building.

"Here," said Namjoon, waking you from your thoughts. You jumped around, your eyes on the clothes Namjoon was offering you.

"Everything I have is going to be too big on you," said Namjoon with a small shake of his head as he licked his lips.

"That's fine," you breathed, grateful. It would have been enough if he simply dropped you off somewhere. You could hardly believe that you were even in his home.

"You didn't ..." you began voicing a horrible thought that appeared in your mind but stopped yourself when Namjoon's eyes met yours. Your lips parted yet you could not make yourself say it.

"What?" encouraged Namjoon.

"Nothing," you shook your head as your mouth went dry.

"What?" insisted Namjoon, his dark eyes forcing the answer from you as his brows furrowed into a frown. You clutched the clothes closer to your chest, your fists balling around the soft material of the hoodie and sweatpants he gave you.

"I just ..." you tried again, feeling as if you had swallowed a ball of sand. "Are you helping me to get revenge on Kang?"

The answered scared you. Even if Namjoon was only using you to get ahead of Kang and to spite him, there was very little you could do about it. Once caught up in this world, it was impossible to get out. You were just Namjoon's plaything. And it would explain why he brought you to his apartment and not simply dropping you off at a station or something.

Your heart was thumping hard against your throat as heat prickled on your neck.

Namjoon stared at you for a moment, a moment that seemed to you to last forever although it was barely a few seconds. He turned away and let out a short breath before he licked his lips and his dark eyes returned to you.

"It would be outrageous if I liked you, wouldn't it?" said Namjoon serenely as if he were only thinking out loud, his voice quiet but deep.

It took you a moment to realize it was not serenity Namjoon spoke with but disillusionment. Your lips parted but his words had knocked you out of air.

A loud thunder echoed through the air, making you wince as you looked over your shoulder and into the stormy night air. But as you returned your attention on Namjoon, he was already making for the kitchen.

You hurried, catching up to him when Namjoon suddenly turned around. You had to take a step back to be able to look up at him, a flush of hot fever rushing to your cheeks.

"You like me?" you breathed, your chest rising and falling heavily as your eyes locked with his. You could not tell what Namjoon was thinking but there was a storm of thoughts behind his eyes.

A small, almost invisible breath escaped Namjoon's lips before he turned around, reaching for the teapot.

"Wait," you reached for Namjoon's hand instead. His dark eyes followed your touch back to your eyes. "Please talk to me," you begged in a whisper, tears threatening to creep into your eyes.

Namjoon studied you before he leaned down closer to you.

"I like you," said Namjoon quietly, his chest rumbling with the deepness of his voice. His eyes radiated a warmth you had never known before. Suddenly, all of the times you saw Namjoon at all of those benefits and fundraisers came flooding right back to you: the warm smiles hiding in his eyes, the nods, and the hellos, when he talked to you - how he talked to you ...

"You like me?" you exhaled incredulously.

The warmth inside Namjoon's eyes swirled with amusement as he breathed a smile, this time managing to reach for the teapot. He could feel your gaze on his back as he poured water into the kettle, the smile on his lips growing.

You were too stunned to speak, certain that he would dismiss your assumptions and not confirm them. You did not know how you felt about Namjoon, you hardly knew him; but you could definitely feel the butterflies in your stomach.

You managed to take a shower and wash the makeup off your face before changing into the clothes Namjoon lent you. He was right too; you had to roll up the cuffs of the sweatpants whilst his hoodie fell to the middle of your thighs. You did not mind though, grateful to get out of the evening dress you wore before.

You found Namjoon in the living room, his back to you as he spoke on the phone, holding a tall cup of tea between the tips of his fingers. You leaned against the arch that opened into the living area, waiting for him to finish the conversation. Namjoon had heard you coming and ended the phone call, his gaze rising from your toes up to your eyes as he saw you in his clothes.

Your heart began beating faster in your chest as blood rushed to your cheeks.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, referring to Namjoon's phone call.

"Everything is alright," confirmed Namjoon and made his way over to you. Although the phone call was Yoongi who called him with news of Kang's rage and promises of revenge, Namjoon wouldn't dream of telling you. You were upset enough as it was.

Namjoon did not have to tell you though. You had become frighteningly good at noticing even the smallest signs of tension in the past months and you could see it in Namjoon's broad shoulders.

"He knows I'm here, doesn't he?" you asked quietly. Your eyes prickled with tears but you looked away. You were so tired of crying.

Your gaze rose to Namjoon's when he did not say anything.

"Doesn't he?" you whispered to keep your voice from breaking. Namjoon's eyes watched you, a parting in his lips as he realized he could not lie to you, not when you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

"He knows."

"I should—"

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll handle it," Namjoon cut you off immediately. He would not hear it.

"But—"

"Y/N, I'll handle it," decided Namjoon, giving you no space to argue. Your eyes studied his face but he was unwavering in his decision.

You had no choice but to nod although it only made the tears spill from your eyes as your chin quivered. It was all too much: Kang, the benefit, the escape, rolling all of this responsibility on Namjoon ...

"I'm sorry," you whispered hiding your eyes behind your hand.

"Don't apologize," said Namjoon sternly. "Not for this." His arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand holding your head to his chest as you began to sob. You wanted to apologize a thousand times but Namjoon did not want your apologies; there was nothing to apologize for. He only wanted to hold you and make sure you were safe.

Yoongi

You looked around the apartment warily whilst Yoongi went to get you some clothes to change into as you were still wearing the evening gown. You took a step closer the wall stacked with hundreds upon hundreds of vinyl records. You read some of the tiny titles scribbled on their sides when Yoongi suddenly reappeared behind you.

"I was just looking," you said quickly, making sure he knew you did not touch any of his things.

Yoongi looked at you. "You don't have to just look," he said, gesturing at the record player sitting near the window. You followed his gaze.

"Oh," you breathed. "That's okay." A small smile came to rest on your lips.

Yoongi handed you a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft black hoodie. You thanked him, holding the clothes to your chest.

You could not believe the reality of your situation or what made you agree to do this in the fist place. You may have spoken to Min Yoongi a couple of times before but in truth you did not know him at all and the thought frightened you.

Yoongi showed you around the apartment to break the uncomfortable silence. He opened the door of the bathroom, gestured to his bedroom at the end of the hallway and showed you to the guest bedroom. Yoongi held the door open for you to enter. You hesitated, not catching on to his gesture and waiting for him to enter first.

Yoongi's dark eyes waited on you. You glanced at him.

"Oh," was all that came from your mouth before you quickly scurried inside. The walls were a deep colour neither grey nor green with white wooden lining and a light ceiling that brightened the room. There was cherry blossom in the vase on the nightstand and a large bed with cozy pillows and blankets in the shades of beige against one of the walls.

"I can stay here?" you asked carefully, not wanting to take anything for granted. It was hard enough for you to believe that anyone would go up against Kang for anything, much less to help you.

"It's yours," said Yoongi, leaning against the door frame. "I will let you get changed," he said before you could thank him. He closed the door quietly behind him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your body sinking into the soft mattress. You held Yoongi's clothes close to you as if they were a pillow. They smelled of laundry detergent and the beautiful fragrance he always wore. You closed your eyes but shouldn't have because your eyes spilled with hot tears and your chest was heavy with sobs that you would not let Yoongi to hear. You weren't sure why you were crying; was it relief or fear or both or nothing at all, but a part of it was all of the stress and anxiety that built up inside of you over the past months.

You changed into the clothes Yoongi gave you whilst still calming yourself down some. You slipped into the bathroom unnoticed and washed your face. One look at your make up and he would have know you had been crying. Yoongi knew anyway though from the redness of your eyes and the tone of your voice.

"Are you hungry?" asked Yoongi and opened the door of his fridge. It was always stacked with food although he almost never ate at home.

"I'm okay," you said genuinely as you leaned against the counter. You could not possibly have anything to eat in that moment.

Yoongi closed the fridge, his ink black eyes turning to you. His clothes were too big on you but he figured they were more comfortable than in the stunning dress you wore.

"I can make you some tea," suggested Yoongi and took a step closer, seeing the restlessness in your eyes.

"It's okay," you spoke quietly, using much self-control not to take a step back. "Thank you," you found yourself saying at last. "For everything."

"You don't need to thank me for anything," said Yoongi, uninterested in your gratitude.

"But I do," you insisted and your eyes watered again. You hated yourself for crying so much but you could not control it. Just the thought of what tonight might have been like for you, if Kang lost control like he did before the benefit ... What tomorrow would have been like and every day that followed if you had not managed to get away from him.

"You don't," said Yoongi again and yet his expression softened when he saw you like this. "You should get some rest," he said gently.

You nodded as he walked you to the guest bedroom. You hesitated before you went in.

"I saw you have sleeping pills in the bathroom," you began, threading lightly. "Would it be okay if I had one?"

"Of course," agreed Yoongi and brought you a glass of water.

"You don't have to ask me this," said Yoongi as you took the sleeping pill. "Anything you need, it's yours." You stared at Yoongi with the glass in your hand. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours, making your skin tingle.

"Thank you," you said again but Yoongi gave no sign of recognizing your gratitude. He would not accept it because in his mind's eye everything he did for you and everything you needed was a given.

You said your good-nights before you closed the door behind you and climbed into bed. You surrounded yourself with pillows, and although your mind was screaming with thoughts and emotions that made your tears soak the covers beneath your head, the sleeping pill was even stronger than you anticipated. You fell into a deep slumber, sleeping for nearly fourteen hours without waking.

Yoongi could barely sleep at all however. He had half a mind to take the sleeping pill himself but he needed himself alert. So instead, Yoongi lay in bed thinking and staring at the ceiling. He could not have cared less about Kang or the rivalry or any of it; his mind always only drifted off to you.

Yoongi would get up every couple of hours and quietly open the door to your bedroom only enough to see that you were alright and sound asleep.

Yoongi came to check on you one last time after he managed to get a couple of hours of sleep himself. Morning was already piercing into view on the horizon when he glanced into your room. He pushed the door open quietly and fixed the comforter over you as it was almost on the floor. Your body sought the warmth in your sleep when the comforter was drawn over you once again and your arms wrapped around it, hugging it close. A small sigh escaped your lips when Yoongi brushed a stray lock of hair from your eyes. He could hear the sound of his own heart ringing in his ears at how beautiful you looked. It took all the strength in him to peel himself away from your side and to not caress your cheek, which could cause you to wake. He did not even want to imagine the look on your face if you found him in your room when you woke. You were already anxious enough because of Kang.

The thought of that man made Yoongi's blood boil. He closed the door of your bedroom gently although the anger he was feeling could have him slam them to the point of breaking.

Yoongi took a long shower to clear his mind and wake him up properly. Kang knew you were with Yoongi and he promised an all-out war. Yoongi could not help but smile to himself as hot water poured down his body. He would enjoy every minute of destroying Kang. He thought about it still even as he got dressed, his wrath fueled even more each time he remembered your bruise and the way Kang must have been treating you.

Yoongi exited his bedroom so deep in thought he almost collided with you, who also just came out of your room. Yoongi's eyes went wide as he steadied you by the shoulders, the scent of your perfume that still lingered on your skin from last night triggering goosebumps on his arms, but it was nothing compared to your small hands resting against his chest.

You stared at Yoongi in his black t-shirt and his black trousers as caught off guard as he was.

"Sorry," you said quickly and took a step back.

Compared to last night, you were more rested than ever. You could not even recall when you last had such a good night's sleep, having slept next to a person you did not trust and did not want anymore for weeks.

"I'm sorry for last night too," you began. Yoongi looked at you surprised. "I wasn't myself; I was tired and I was scared ... And I just ... I really wanted to thank you for everything," you confessed as you bit the inside of your lip.

"Y/N—"

"Please, Yoongi, I just ..." you cut him off but did not know how to put it in words. Yoongi's face softened even more than you thought possible hearing the sound of his name roll off your tongue.

"I just ..." you tried again but there were no words that you could find. Instead, you stepped on the tips of your toes and reached your hands around Yoongi's neck as you pulled him into a tight hug. He froze for a moment, before his arms locked around the middle of your back, his face burying in your neck.

"Thank you," you whispered again and found that this time Yoongi did not protest.

Hoseok

Jung took you to his apartment in the city. The building was an enormously tall skyscraper with a doorman and security men posted at every corner. Your gaze traced their heavy guns as Hoseok led you to the elevator. The closer you got to your final destination, the more anxious you became and the adrenaline began to disappear. The reality of it all hit you like a ton of bricks, a thousand worries weighing down on your chest.

"He doesn't know where you live, does he?" you asked Jung carefully just before the elevator opened.

Hoseok placed his hand on the side of the door to let you pass in case it tried to close.

"Who?" asked Jung as you stepped out into the small, bright corridor. A couple of more men were posted there, making you nervous as your worried eyes returned to Jung.

"He doesn't," assured Hoseok when he saw the look in your eyes. "Even if he did, he would never make it past the lobby."

Jung typed in the security code and pressed his finger against the pad before the door opened.

"Come in."

You stepped inside warily, quickly looking for signs of anything out of the ordinary. But the apartment was beautiful. The hallway opened into a spacious living area that lead to the kitchen and dining room. The walls were creamy and bright and decorated with artwork. There were bookshelves and plants and large windows that allowed for a view of the city, bringing life into the room.

You took off your heels, hesitating a little before entering the living area. It was all so clean and organized like something off a magazine or a Pinterest board.

"It's okay," said Hoseok, the tips of his fingers gently brushing against your shoulder blade.

You nodded. There was a strange warmth about Hoseok that you could not explain. Every instinct in your body trusted him although your mind and reason still needed some convincing. You barely knew him in truth.

Hoseok lent you some of his clothes to change into, a pair of cozy sweatpants and a soft t-shit your body got lost in. He asked if you were hungry or wanted anything else but you had no appetite. Your stomach was still in knots.

Hoseok showed you the guest bedroom where you could stay. The room was warm and inviting, with pale pistachio-green walls and a beige-white carpet that framed the bed, which was topped with pillows and blankets.

The sight of it all, how beautiful and inviting and warm it was, gave your chest a painful squeeze. You hated the tears that prickled your eyes but you could not help but ask,

"Why are you helping me?"

Your voice was soft but your brows gathered into a frown when you looked up at Hoseok. He seemed surprised by your question.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You barely know me," you found yourself whispering to keep your voice from cracking.

"I know enough," said Hoseok, who now frowned as well. You were taken back by how drastically his features could change from soft and inviting, to authoritative and pensive although there was still warmth you could recognize in his dark eyes.

"But how?" you asked quietly, your gaze locked with his. Hoseok looked away and licked his lips before his eyes returned to you.

"I have been keeping an eye on you," he confessed.

"Why?" you breathed, astonished and your brows raised. Hoseok did not say anything although his eyes spoke loudly enough for you to understand.

"My bedroom is just down the hall if you'll need anything," said Hoseok and tore his gaze away from yours. He turned around and made to leave, keeping the door of your bedroom cracked open.

You found yourself forgetting to breathe as you watched him leave. You sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed with emotions. Hand clutched over your chest, you tried to steady your breathing and ease the pain that assembled in your lungs. You tried to find some sleep but you only twisted and turned all night and waited for the morning to come.

You emerged from the room early in the morning, surprised to find Hoseok awake as well. What more, you found him dressed in a pair of elegant black trousers and a crisp white shirt, freshly shaven and showered, smelling like heaven. The entire hallway smelled like his bodywash, giving you goosebumps

You felt like you were in nothing more than a garbage bag compared to Hoseok although it was his Prada t-shirt you were wearing.

Hoseok looked up from his phone, feeling a pair of eyes on him. You blushed and hoped it did not show in the early morning light and with your hair let down.

"Awake already?" asked Hoseok, his morning voice soft and nothing short of warm as he was leaning against the kitchen counter. You nodded, still lingering in the narrow hallway, which opened into the kitchen and living area.

"Did you sleep well?"

You shook your head and joined him at the counter, sitting down on one of the chairs. "I couldn't keep my mind off things," you murmured, your voice soft and quiet in the morning hour. "How did you sleep?"

Something shifted in Hoseok's eyes when you asked him that. "I couldn't keep my mind off things either," he said unblinking, taking in your features: the sheet wrinkles on the side of your neck, the way you breathed softly with your sleepy eyes on his.

Hoseok looked away. He grabbed a large paper shopping bag that sat at his feet and placed it on the counter. They were clothes for you - only some basic items but you were too shocked to thank him.

"You went shopping?" you asked wide-eyed although it probably wasn't even seven in the morning and everything was still closed.

"No, I had someone bring them over," smiled Hoseok.

"I didn't go anywhere," he said after a moment, frowning at the thought of leaving you there all alone.

Hoseok could not sleep at night because his mind kept drifting off to you, sleeping in his apartment, in his guest bedroom down the hall. He thought about your conversation last night and how he handled it. Hoseok was determined to make up for it and ordered his personal assistant to find some clothes for you even if he had to wake the owner of the shopping center in the middle of the night. He wanted to make you comfortable by at least getting you some clothes of your own and some essentials you might need.

You watched Hoseok as a cloud of steam rose continuously from his coffee. You followed a strand of his hair that threatened onto his eyes. You reached over hesitantly, carefully catching the lock between your fingers and tucking it in its place.

Hoseok froze still as you did that, his dark eyes piercing through you as heat crept to your cheeks.

"Sorry," you whispered and crossed your arms again as you were leaning against the counter. Little did you know Hoseok's heart threatened to jump from his chest from racing so fast, and even less did he know that yours wanted to do the same.

Jimin

Jimin took you to his apartment in the city. The building was secured from top to bottom with security posted at every corner. The sight of the guards calmed you and made you anxious at the same time. You quickened your pace, your hand slipping into Jimin's instinctively. His sharp eyes snapped to you, his reaction making you realize what you were doing.

"Sorry," you said quickly, your eyes wide as you tried to take your hand back but Jimin would not let it go. Instead, his fingers intertwined with yours as you entered the elevator. You squeezed Jimin's hand subconsciously, your knee fidgeting beneath your elegant black dress. Your mind rushed in every direction with thoughts of Kang and the benefit at its centre. You wondered how long it took for him to notice that you were gone and that Park was gone too.

"He doesn't ... He doesn't know where you live, does he?" you asked gravely just as the elevator door opened. Jimin's gaze locked with yours. The door wanted to close again but his hand stopped them.

"Of course not," said Jimin darkly. You exited the elevator. "And if he does, he'll be shot dead before he makes it past the lobby," added Jimin, knocking the breath out of you. You stared at him paralyzed as he typed in the code of the apartment lock, imagining the scene in your head. Although Kang has been terrible to you and you wanted nothing else but to get away from him, a part of you still cared for some reason. You have been together for nearly two years and not all of it was bad. Yet on the other hand, if Kang came after Jimin for helping you ...

"Come," said Jimin as he opened the door for you.

You stared at Jimin whilst your heart weighed heavy in your chest and your lungs turned to lead with worry. You took your hand from his.

"I should go," you found yourself saying and turned on your heel, pressing the elevator button.

"Y/N," called Jimin, already catching your hand before the elevator door could even open. "What are you talking about?" His eyebrows had formed into a terrible frown. You could not even look at him as your eyes filled with hot tears.

"I shouldn't be here," you hurried, "If Kang finds out where I am—"

"I told you you're safe, Y/N," Jimin cut you off and you finally managed to look at him, your big watery eyes finding his.

"I don't care about me," you cried. "What if he hurts you?" You looked away as two salty tears slipped down your cheeks. You brushed them away with your free hand, doing your best to control the sobs that wanted nothing more but to escape your lungs.

You looked back up at Jimin when he did not say anything. His frown was almost gone and his jaw softened as his brown eyes filled with warmth.

Another tear slipped from your eye but Jimin caught it with his thumb.

"Come in," assured Jimin, his voice gentle. You hesitated but the tug of Jimin's hand encouraged you before he led you inside.

Jimin turned on the lights, revealing a spacious living area at the end of the short hallway. You slipped off your heels and took in the view. The rich dark tones of the walls and the furniture were balanced out by the white ceilings and warm lights. The living room opened into the kitchen and dining room that further led to a narrow hallway.

"Come, let's get you some clothes," said Jimin, making you turn around. There was a staircase behind you that led to a second floor.

Jimin pushed open the door of his bedroom as he led you through it to his walk-in closet. His room was the opposite of downstairs with its pale walls and dark hardwood floors. The walls of Jimin's walk-in closet, however, were lined with suits and shirts and jewellery and shoes.

"Are you cold? Do you want a hoodie?" asked Jimin but received no answer from you. When he turned around, he found your eyes on one the dressers he had especially made. Jimin forgot one of the drawers open, one with a slick black sniper gun lying in a bed of foam of its exact shape.

Jimin let go of your hand and closed the drawer with a swift gesture. The drawer locked into the dresser, only Jimin's fingerprint being able to open it again.

Your heart was beating hard against your throat as you gaze met with Jimin's. This was not your first time seeing a gun yet the sight of it sent shivers down your spine nonetheless.

"T-shirt or hoodie?" asked Jimin again, changing the topic completely.

"A t-shirt is fine," you managed to utter and although your voice was near as quiet as a whisper, your voice crack slightly anyway. You could see that Jimin noticed because his body froze when he heard it even if only for a split second.

Jimin handed you one of his t-shirts and a pair of cozy sweatpants and gave you some privacy to change.

You slipped from your dress and put on his clothes before emerging from the closet. You expected to find him in his room but he wasn't there. You thought to find him downstairs but you could not help but take a look around Jimin's bedroom. There was a silver laptop on his large bed, only the lamp from his nightstand turned on. You stopped in front of the window-wall and took in the full view of the city; the yellow and red lights glowed in the rainy night with blue lights from an ambulance or a police car passing by here and there. You sank deep in thought. The image of Kang's eyes, of his clenched jaw, and loud voice persisted in your mind as you remembered your last argument. You remembered the fear and the insecurity.

You felt heat on the back of your neck and the pressure of anxiety in your chest. You sat down in one of the two armchairs by the window, trying to calm your trembling hands.

"You know you're sitting in my favourite chair," said Jimin, a shadow of a playful smile in the corner of his lips but you could not see it; you could only hear his words.

"W-What?" you stuttered, comprehending what he said. You stood up quickly, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know ..."

Your big wide eyes jumped to Jimin's as you hugged your arms. His eyebrows hung in a formidable frown, his dark eyes darting to your hands. Although he knew it was there, Jimin's gaze fell upon your bruised elbow for the first time. The purple fingertips that were imprinted into your skin made his stomach twist into knots. It took every ounce of discipline in him not to storm out and kill Kang with his bare hands. Jimin knew you guys fought a lot but he never realized it was this bad or he would have done something about it.

"Y/N," whispered Jimin, his hands slowly cupping your cheeks. You did not even know when it happened but there were tears falling from your eyes. Jimin tried to brush them away with his thumbs but only more fell.

"Y/N, please ..." begged Jimin, his heart falling to pieces to see you cry. You sniffled back a sob and looked down. How you hated to cry; it made you feel weak and helpless but nothing you could do would stop it in that moment.

Jimin pulled you closer, his arms securing around your trembling frame. Your hands wrapped around his waist as sobs filled your lungs. Jimin caressed your hair and held you to him as you cried, his chin resting on top of your head.

Taehyung

You observed Taehyung with the corner of your eye as he drove, still not knowing where he was taking you. You began to doubt whether this was a good idea, whether you could trust Taehyung. They were all in this business together with the same sort of tactics and manipulations. For a moment, you considered it was all just a trap, that Kang and Taehyung made some sort of agreement for your boyfriend to test your loyalty or play a trick on you.

Your hands began to tremble as you blinked back the tears. Taehyung made a sharp turn into the garage of a tall building. You found yourself holding your breath until he parked and you got out of the car. The neon lights almost blinded you but Taehyung found your hand to guide you. He took you to the elevator guarded by three heavily armed bodyguards. They all nodded at Taehyung, their eyes only noting your presence before turning away.

Your heart was beating loud and your head began to feel light as the elevator rose to the topmost floor of the building. You had not even noticed but you have been subconsciously squeezing Taehyung's hand in a fidgety repetition as you tried to calm down. You could feel Taehyung's quiet gaze on you all the way up until the elevator door slid open.

When Taehyung let go of your hand to type in the security code for his apartment, you instinctively hugged your bare arms. Your gaze shifted along the narrow corridor, somehow expecting for Kang to appear in front of you.

"Come in," asked Taehyung not ungently but you nearly gasped at the sound of his voice that startled you from your thoughts. He noticed because an even darker frown settled on his eyes.

"Thank you," you said quietly and slipped inside, trying to disguise how scared you really were. But there was no fooling Taehyung.

You took off your heels, now standing much shorter to Taehyung than before. Your eyes scanned his beautiful apartment and still searched for anything that would stand out. Dark and rich earthy colours dominated everywhere you looked, brightened by warm lights and large windows.

Taehyung showed you around to the kitchen and the dining area and the main hallway which led to one of the bathrooms, his office, a guest bedroom and his own bedroom.

You waited whilst Taehyung got you some of his clothes to change into, your eyes scanning the apartment anxiously. You almost jumped when Taehyung reappeared at your side, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

You thanked him, squeezing the clothes to your chest. "Can I take a shower?" you asked hesitantly.

"Of course," said Taehyung and opened the door of the bathroom for you. He disappeared quietly, giving you the privacy you needed.

The hot water felt good against your skin and calmed some of your nerves although you were still on pins and needles. You dried yourself and changed into the comfortable clothes Taehyung lent you. Your skin smelled of his bodywash, giving you goosebumps.

You found Taehyung in the living room, sitting elegantly on the sofa. His eyes rose from his phone and took in the sight of you in his clothes. You had to roll up the cuffs of the pants but otherwise they were perfect.

"Feeling better?"

You nodded a little, slowly making your way to the sofa where you sat down as well, not too close, not too far from Taehyung.

"Why did you help me?" you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. If this was not a trap as Kang was nowhere to be seen, you could not help but wonder why Taehyung offered his help to you.

Taehyung turned to you, his formidable presence making your stomach twist and your heart give a painful squeeze.

"I like you ... so I helped you," Taehyung said calmly, the tone of his voice smooth and even like molten gold.

I like you.

A shivery breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt the tips of your fingers prickle with needles. Your heart was beating wildly against your chest.

"And you ... You don't want anything in return for ... For helping me?" you asked timidly, studying Taehyung's face as your eyes found his. He paused.

"Like what?" asked Taehyung. You could see it in the somber expression of his face that he could read the thoughts behind your eyes. He knew what you were asking but was offended by it.

You looked away quickly as your entire body suddenly seemed like it was on fire. Your gaze turned to your hands where you picked on the skin around your nails anxiously. You could feel Taehyung's gaze burn into you.

"I don't want anything in return, Y/N," said Taehyung calmly. He got up and ran a hand through his hair. "You should get some rest."

You looked up at him as Taehyung made past you. A pang of guilt cut deep into your chest when you watched his frame disappear down the hallway.

You tried to find some sleep that night but you couldn't. Although the bed was perfect, the temperature just to your liking, it was your mind that was in a tempest and kept you up. Even when you managed to find sleep for a few minutes, your mind replayed Kang's words mingled with Taehyung's like a broken record.

You're never leaving me. Ever. -I like you. -You're never leaving me. Ever. -I like you. You're never—

You woke up with a start, a loud gasp escaping your lungs as you sat up in bed. The guest bedroom was already kissed by daylight, now waking in the shades of creamy white and deep espresso brown instead of shadows appearing everywhere you looked. The room itself could nearly be an apartment in its own right with its ornate loveseat and a matching armchair, with paintings and dressers and lively green plants.

You rolled out of bed still more rested than you went to sleep even though you had an uneasy night. At the least you could think more clearly than yesterday, which also meant that you felt even guiltier than before.

You expected to find Taehyung somewhere in the living area or the kitchen but he was nowhere to be seen. He was not in the bathroom across your room either, which only left his bedroom. Just as you were about to hide back in the guestroom for a while longer, Taehyung appeared on the doorway of his bedroom.

A blush so strong rose to your cheeks that your skin pulsated with fever. Taehyung was in nothing but a pair of trousers, his hair ruffled and his eyes full of sleep as he leaned one of his arms against the door frame beside his head.

"I'll get dressed in a minute," said Taehyung abently, his voice so deep and husky with sleep it made goosebumps rise on your arms and legs.

"Take your time," you managed to utter, now feeling the blush prickle your chest and neck as well. The image of Taehyung's bare chest would not leave your mind no matter how hard you tried.

You waited in the kitchen, pacing and biting your lip, when Taehyung appeared once again. He wore a pair of elegant black trousers and a matching shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A silver wristwatch rested on one of his hands, the other one resting snugly in his pocket. His dark eyes found you immediately although he was in urgent need of some coffee.

"Did you get any rest?" you spoke, desperate to cut through the silence.

The espresso machine was already buzzing busily when Taehyung turned to you, leaning against the counter.

"I should be asking you that," said Taehyung huskily, a hint of amusement hiding in his eyes. You did not say anything though but waited for him to go first.

"I didn't sleep much," Taehyung told truthfully.

"Me neither," you agreed. "I couldn't stop thinking ... I ... I shouldn't have said that last night." You looked down for a moment, ashamed of yourself.

"Said what?"

"You helped me and I questioned your intentions," you said desperately, beginning to think Taehyung was torturing you on purpose. But when you looked into his eyes, there was nothing he was not sharing with you.

Taehyung stood up straight and walked over to you, stopping only inches away. He leaned down, his forehead nearly touching yours as a sharp breath caught in your throat. Your heart raced wildly.

"If you weren't you, you would have been right to question my intentions," said Taehyung, both of his hands now hidden in the pockets of his trousers yet his gaze remained burned into yours.

"You are in luck though," he spoke again, sending shivers down your spine. "Because as strange and unusual as I as well find it, my intentions with you are nothing if not pure," Taehyung purred, his eyes filled with unusual warmth.

The espresso machine gave a quiet ring.

"Coffee?"

Jungkook

You arrived at Jungkook's apartment building in the middle of the night. The stress not only of the evening alone but the past couple of months caught up to you. Once the adrenaline of escaping your boyfriend subsided, you could not even bring yourself to talk. The entire ride was filled with not uncomfortable silence although you were still on pins and needles. You had not planned to leave the benefit or your now ex-boyfriend the way you did, much less did you think Jeon would be the person to help you do it. You worried you might have made a wrong decision asking him for help as you glanced at his tattooed knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel and his formidable frown.

You got out of the car the moment the engine died, yearning for a breath of fresh air. You did not get it though as you were in the garage of the apartment building and the air was worse than ever. Instead, you came face to face with men clad in black carrying heavy weapons. The sight made your stomach twist into even tighter knots but it was too late now.

You followed Jungkook into the elevator that eventually rose to the top of the building. The ride made you uneasy, making your head feel as light as a feather. Just as the walls seemed to start closing down on you, the door of the elevator opened following a ring.

Jungkook placed his hand on the side of the door to keep it from closing as you walked out. You waited for him in front of another pair of doors where Jungkook typed in the code of the security lock and had the scanner read his fingerprint.

Jungkook opened the door for you, letting you enter first. He turned on the lights quickly and closed the entrance behind him. The click of the door made you turn around, your eyes darting to his. His eyebrows seemed to be frozen in a frown since you left the benefit.

Jungkook's gaze revisited the place where Kang left his fingerprints, his mind drifting off to dangerous places.

You licked your dry lips and took off your heels that were beginning to dig painfully into your feet. As you rose, you finally took in the sight of Jungkook's apartment. It was a balance of dark and light, of vast emptiness and inviting warmth.

"I'll get you some clothes," said Jungkook as he made past you, the smell of smoke and his perfume lingering on his clothes.

You glanced at the door when Jungkook was out of sight and tried the knob but it was locked, the keypad staring at you blinkingly. You did not intend on leaving, you had nowhere to go, but just being able to have that option ...

Jungkook brought you a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft black t-shirt that you thanked him for. He showed you to the bathroom where you changed and washed off your smudged makeup. Yet once you returned, Jungkook could still see the storm of thoughts behind your eyes.

"What is it?" asked Jungkook not unkindly although his frown curved even grimmer if that was even possible.

"Am I ..." you began, not knowing how to string together the words. The answer that you might get frightened you.

Jungkook's eyes waited with expectation.

"Am I allowed to leave?" you uttered at last, your voice quiet as your gaze shifted between Jungkook's eyes and the buttons of his shirt.

"Why wouldn't you be?" asked Jungkook, a hidden sharpness in his voice that you could point out easily. In the past months, you had learned to pick up on the smallest signals and gestures that could most of the time save you from a difficult argument.

"I don't know," you tried to keep your voice loud enough for him to hear although your hands were wet with cold sweat.

Jungkook stared at you. You were avoiding his eyes, your hands if not your whole body were trembling, your shoulders tense.

"Why did you come with me if you're so scared of me?" asked Jungkook. Your eyes found his as your lips parted.

"I suppose I'm not as scared of you as I am of him," you confessed after a moment not only to Jungkook but to yourself. You looked down, ashamed that you felt that way about someone who so far did everything but hurt you.

Your eyes watered with tears and your chin quivered. You thought about everything Kang told you about Jungkook, and you thought about Kang himself; the thought of him made you sick with fever.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you shook your head. You tried to push away the tears, tired of crying, but they fell down your cheeks anyway.

"You've been nothing but kind to me ... If it weren't for you ..." you could not even think about it. You hid your eyes behind your hand, holding back the pain in your chest.

"Fuck ..." muttered Jungkook under his breath and pulled you into his arms despite battling with himself not to do it. He could not forget the way you winced from his touch when he led you to his car, but he did not know what else to do.

You did not flinch this time, however. You welcomed the comfort of his embrace, of his arms wrapping around your frame. His chest felt warm beneath your cheek, the sound of his loud heartbeat calming you down.

You did not know how much time had passed or how long the two of you have been standing that way, but it was long enough for you to feel yourself want to fall asleep.

"I'm so tired," you whispered, your eyes closed and your hands still wrapped around Jungkook's waist.

"I know," said Jungkook quietly not to disturb you. He slipped his arms beneath you and picked you up. If you had had but an ounce of energy left, you would have argued against it and insisted to walk alone but you could no longer fight at all, not for anything.

Soon, there was a soft pillow beneath your head and the covers drawn over your shivering body. The exhaustion made you even colder than usual but you fell asleep anyway.

***

When you woke up, the pale sun was shinning into the unknown room. The walls were charcoal grey, the ceiling white with a wall of windows opening from top to bottom to your side. You sat up quickly, not remembering how you got there, not recognizing any of the furniture nor the bed. Your gaze soon fell upon the armchair in the corner of the room. The memories of last night came back to you when you saw Jungkook sleeping in the armchair. He no longer wore a tuxedo but a black hoodie and a pair of sweatpants as he lay sprawled in the armchair.

You remembered crying in Jungkook's arms and hugging him, and you were almost certain he carried you to bed. Heat rushed to your cheeks and neck, painting them red with blush as you wished for the floor to crack open and swallow you. You were rested now, at least more than last night when you were a complete mess of emotions and could think straight.

Your mind drifted to Kang as you wondered what happened at the benefit after you disappeared, the rage and uproar he must have caused.

Your elbow was even sorer than you remembered and the bruise grew darker and more menacing by the hour. You tried to touch it but the brush of fingertips alone was painful.

Although the armchair looked uncomfortable, you wanted to let Jungkook sleep. You could not stop the butterflies from awakening in your stomach when you saw him like that. His face was relaxed, his brows free from the usual frown. Jungkook's arms were crossed lazily across his chest as he breathed softly.

You slipped from the bed quietly, goosebumps rising on your arms in the cold morning air. It was misty and grey outside, the sun now gone completely. You took the soft blanket from the foot of the bed and made your way to Jungkook almost on the tips of your toes. You folded the blanket once and placed it gently over Jungkook, praying that it would not wake him up.

Jungkook remained asleep as you slipped from the guest bedroom and found the bathroom. It made you uneasy to look through his bathroom cabinet but you were in desperate need of a toothbrush. You opened one of the spare ones and borrowed a bit of toothpaste, followed by washing your face and using your fingers for comb when you suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway.

Your gaze shot up to the bathroom door and your heart jumped in your chest. It took you a moment to remind yourself that you were not at home, that you were safe, and Kang was miles away.

When you reached the kitchen, Jungkook was rubbing his tired eyes with his index and thumb as he stood before the buzzing espresso machine.

You wondered why he decided to sleep in the armchair when Jungkook turned around, feeling your gaze burn into his back.

"Hi," you said quietly, a small smile lining your lips.

"Hey," said Jungkook, his voice deep and husky like broken. Goosebumps rose on your arms.

"Coffee?" he offered, fixing his hair by running his fingers through it.

"Please," you said but felt a pang of guilt when you saw the tiredness on his face. You sat down at the counter and poured some milk into your coffee whilst Jungkook watered his espresso to an americano. Just the smell of coffee managed to bring him back from the dead some, although he yearned for a shower and a workout.

"Why did you sleep in the armchair?" you found yourself asking, unable to stop the blush from creeping to your cheeks. You bit your lip, your eyes shifting between Jungkook and your coffee.

Jungkook watched you for a moment, his eyebrows nestling in their usual frown. "You had nightmares."

"I did?" you breathed, not remembering a thing. You shivered from the cold air but you did not notice as you tried to put together the puzzles of your memory.

"You don't remember?" asked Jungkook and set down his nearly empty coffee cup. You looked up at him when his fingers went to the hem of his hoodie as he pulled it off. The t-shirt beneath it rose to the middle of his torso as he did so, sending a wave of heat to your cheeks.

"Here," said Jungkook and handed the hoodie to you.

"No, it's okay—" you reacted quickly but he cut you off.

"Take it," said Jungkook, leaving no room for arguments. You couldn't do anything else but to thank him to which he nodded absent-mindedly.

You slipped on Jungkook's hoodie, still warm and smelling like him. You sank into the comfortable material, your nose buried in the collar of the hoodie. Jungkook did not say anything for a while, making you look up with big eyes as you just woke from your thoughts.

Jungkook was watching you all the while, leaning against the counter at the hip, until your gaze finally rose to him. His dark eyes were filled with amusement, which made you blush. His lips spread into a small smile as he passed by you and headed down the hallway. You stared at his back until he disappeared from your sight, feeling your cheeks pulsate with heat.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stand shivering in a towel. The door is open to the damp chill, a grey sky peeking in. He appears again, marching through with a worn canvas knapsack. He drops it on the rug and goes back to shut the door. You hear the gears whirring as it locks on its own. 

He’s all in black again. At least his clothes are clean. The turtleneck has a hole in the elbow and the cargo pants are missing a flap along one pocket, but they don’t smell like iron and mud. His blond hair is still sleek with moisture and droops down his forehead. 

You wrap your arms around yourself and watch him. He lifts the bag over the couch and drops it on the cushions. He points and looks at you. You nod and go where he wants. 

You tuck in the top of the towel. You pull back the zipper. A bundle of clothing pushes the bag wide as it bulges through. You pull out a plaid flannel shirt. It’s thick. You peek up at him and hold it up. He jams his finger towards you. 

“These are for me?” You ask. He lowers his arms and tilts his head. “Thank you.” You look down and lay out the flannel on the next cushion.  

You pull out two pairs of rolled jeans, some tee shirts, and a pullover sweater. Each piece is plain and practical. None of it matches. You won’t complain. Only the last piece is less than utilitarian. 

You drag out the dress and it flows free. The yellow is speckled with green vines and white flowers. You grimace as you note the red splotch on the bodice and the way the trim on the neckline is separated along one side. 

He grunts. You wince and look him in the eye. You blink nervously and turn the dress around for him to see. He frowns and snatches it from you. He touches the bloody stain and exhales deeply. He balls it up. He stares at you again. 

You pick up a tee shirt and give it a sniff. It’s a bit dingy. You can manage. 

“Maybe I’ll do some laundry? You can show me where?” You suggest. 

His eyes narrow. 

“I’ll do yours too. I don’t mind. I’d like to have something to do,” you offer. You’re trying to fill the silence as much as you’re begging to distract yourself from the dread. “If that’s okay with you.” 

His eyes drift. He puts his chin down and examines the dress again. He rents it in two and stomps away. 

You pull the tee shirt on over the towel then slip into the jeans. You loose the towel and button up the flannel. It’s better. 

The door clatters open again. You go to hang the wet towel from the bar in the bathroom and as you return, he carries in a pile of white birch logs. He kicks the door shut and takes them to the fireplace. He lets them roll over the floor. He grabs one and splits it in half with his fingers. You gape. 

“Can I help?” You stay a few feet back as you watch his shoulders. “Are you hungry?” 

He clacks several pieces onto the embers and stokes the fire until it roars. He stacks the rest before he gets up. He faces you and stalks over. You shuffle back frightfully. He points to your stomach then makes a fist. 

“Not all of it makes me sick. I was asking you though.” 

His brows furrow and he snarls. He shakes his head. He’s frustrated but you don’t know why. 

You warily move back to the couch and fold up the leftover clothing. He strides into the kitchen as you place the knapsack and clothes aside. He comes back in with a large metal bucket with handles on the wide brim and a scrubbing board. You only ever saw those in museums. He drops it and it clanges as the board bounces to the other side. 

“Thank you,” you say to conceal your fear. You feel his temper mounting. You want to keep him calm as long as you can. “Will you sit down?” You ask gently. “I wish I could make you some tea. It’s the perfect weather for it.” 

He inclines his head and watches you. His cheek ticks and his eyes flick up as if trying to remember something. He moves towards you and you lurch but don’t back away. He brings his hands to the sides of your face. His thumbs stroke your cheeks and he holds you for just a second before he releases you. 

He brushes close and moves to the couch. He sits with a groan. He doesn’t show the pain but you saw the splotched bruises and the slice along his knee. 

“I’m going to boil some water,” you explain. “Is there a drying rack for me to hang the clothes?” 

He sniffs and stands.  

“You can point and I’ll find it,” you say. “I saw a closet near the kitchen?” 

He blinks and flicks his finger in that direction as he sits back down. You turn and flit towards the door you were too afraid to open. You look inside at the broom; that would have been useful before. 

You drag out a rusting folding rack and bring it to the front room. You put it in front of the fireplace. 

“Is that okay?” You turn to him. 

He waves his hand indifferently. 

You nod and go back to your task. It’s not as terrifying when you have little steps to follow. You find a pot in the cupboard and fill it with water. You put it on to boil then retreat into the bathroom. You gather up his clothes and add them to the heap of the others. 

You take the bar of laundry soap from the bottom of the tub and set it aside. As you wait for the water to boil, you find a cloth and wet it. You wipe the front of his body arm. Black and red mingle on the linen. 

You glance over at him. His eyes are closed. The fire crackles and its glow flickers over him. You put your head down and continue your work. There’s an eeriness to the sudden peace of the cabin. You only then notice how the storm has quieted too. 

[aktrashpanda]

[ID: a black and white drawing with 5 massive tentacles taking up most of the frame coiling and reaching up from the bottom towards a tiny human figure (Arthur) falling through the water surrounded by bubbles. Arthur's hands are bound and a weight drags him down by the feet. His head is thrown back in struggle and John's hand is reaching toward the surface. /end ID]

I had the insane joy of working on this year's Malevolent Big Bang with @tallangrycockatiel @toastydumpster @whynotlol9 and @organchordsandlightning and if you like a good time loop you don't wanna sleep on this one!!

[ID: a black and white illustration showing a man (Arthur) laying on a reef. He's barefoot and his clothes are loose and rumpled, his right hand dips into a tidepool while his left hand rests over his side. He has a look of blank indifference as he looks out over the water, which is filled with fishfolk. A half crab half man crawls out of the water low in the frame, a humanoid frog climbs over the rocks towards the top, and 6 more heads poke out of the water with various aquatic features, all looking at Arthur with interest. /end ID]

[lavandulawrites]

Carcass

Yandere Douma x reader

This is by far the most gory thing I’ve written (or at least posted).

Synopsis: Douma decides to show his love for you in the ways of punishing the woman who has harassed you countlessly.

Masterlist

Warnings: Douma is a warning himself, Douma is horrible in this, abuse (from a woman to reader), gore, violence, demon eating a human, someone gets eaten alive, Douma is head over heels in love with reader, manipulation, obsession, female reader, non of the violence is towards the reader except implied former abuse (not from Douma), Dead Dove: do not eat, let me know if I have missed anything

Word count: 1673

The hall was lit just enough so you could see the silhouettes of its contents. A young woman with long beautiful hair was sitting beside you on the tatami floor. By the door were multiple servants all dressed in white. Their face was turned downwards. The sliding doors slid open. The room froze as the long haired cult leader entered. It was like the air turned to ice and it burned whenever your breathed. Even though it was dark, you could see his jovial grin. His fangs as sharp and threatening as ever.

The woman besides you bowed and you followed after.

The man took a seat on the platform before you. “I am so glad you could come” his smile showing his sharp fangs. He spoke as you had a choice whether or not you would come when the cult leader asked for you. “You may leave us alone” he waved his hand at the servants. They bowed and fled the room silently like white ghosts.

He leaned forward. “What is your name dear?” his gaze was fixed on the woman beside you.

“Yui, sir” she bowed her head.

“Yui… What a beautiful name. Fitting for such a beautiful woman as yourself” his voice sweet, but uncanny.

She smiled and glanced at you with triumph in the corner of your eye. She was clearly happy with gaining the attention of the handsome cult leader.

He shifted his gaze to you. His rainbow eyes scanning your features for something. He hummed when he found what he was looking for.

“Miss Yui, wouldn’t you be so kind as to come up here?” he spoke in his honeyed voice while his eyes were still on you. You swallowed in fear, which caused him to laugh.

Yui rose to her feet and strutted to the platform, looking over her shoulder at you. Her red lips were twisted up into a taunting smile.

Douma patted his one of his crossed legs for her to sit. “You have suck beautiful hair…” he hummed as he held a strand up to his nose and sniffed it. “You see Yui… I have had such an exhausting day” he sighed.

“A person that I am quite fond of won’t respond to my advances” he turned towards her. “Can you believe such a thing? Luckily I have come up with a plan on how to get her closer.”

Yui looked at him with a confused expression, but quickly brushed it off. She smiled at him to continue

You looked down on you hands and knees wishing you could just disappear. Douma noticed your discomfort and laughed.

“Why the long face? Are you perhaps bored?” he tched. “Oh dear… We can’t have that” he shook his head and grinned. “Say what Yui. Why don’t we put on a show to entertain our little audience, hmm?”

Yui nodded. An obnoxious smile plastered on her beautiful face.

“I am so incredibly famished. Aren’t you, Yui?” he sighed dramatically as he looked at her through his long eyelashes.

“I suppose I am…” Yui answered sheepishly.

“Whatever should we do…” Douma sighed as he threw his hand back in an overly dramatic manner. He snapped his head back and raised his pointy finger upwards. “Oh! I have it!” he grinned and looked at Yui.

The black haired woman tilted her head at his sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you… Offer yourself to me?” his eyes beamed with mischief.

“My lord, I am not sure if I follow…” Yui’s voice filed with uncertainty.

Your hands harshly gripped the fabric of your clothing.

Douma must have noticed your movement given his widened smirk, but said nothing. His attention turned back to Yui. His fangs catching the light from the lanterns that hung on the walls. His long fingers gripped her shoulders. The claws of the demon digging into her clothing, almost ripping the fabric. He brought his nose down to her neck and inhaled. “Mmm… You smell heavenly, but not as good as my dearest” he snickered.

Yui gulped at his comment. Her brown eyes flickered to you.

“What is the matter Yui?” he tilted his head.

“N-nothing master…” she muttered with her eyes cast towards the floor.

“I thought so” he grinned. His pale hand moved to her neck and he pulled her closer. His face mere centimetres from hers. Pale blue nails dragged down her face leaving shudders. Douma’s eyes trained on you.

Your nails pressed crescent moons against your palms, your skin almost breaking. “Stop! Please Douma! Don’t do this!” you pleaded. Your voice was hoarse after many hours of not being used.

His smile widened. “You finally decided to grace us with your beautiful voice” his voice soft. His rainbow eyes bottomless as they gazed at you lovingly.

“I can however not stop this. Or rather, I won’t” his smile still as ever present. His pale hand yanked the ravenette’s head back, making her neck strained.

She yelped and instinctively tried to peel his hands away. Her struggles were met with the click of a tongue, which made her stop struggling.

“I am doing this because I love you, [Name]. Don’t ever think anything else” his expression blank save from his eyes which were blown wide and shinning. “I know how she has been treating you. I am just going to… teach her a lesson. That’s all.”

What made him look human before, was all gone. What remained was a monster with fangs and claws ready to tear apart its prey.

“I have been keeping an eye on you, Yui” his voice a low sneer. “My servants have told me how you treat my dear [Name]. Many days I’ve smelled you on her skin and hair. Don’t think her bruises go unnoticed” he leaned closer to her face.

“You are just a worthless piece of shit. You should have known your place and perhaps I would have speared your pathetic life” his jaw was clenched.

“I-I am sorry! I am sorry!” the woman cried as she felt his ice breath on her skin. Her dark eyes found yours as they sent you a silent plea. A plea for you to do anything to stop her death.

“Silence!” his shout uncharacteristic. “I did not give you permission to speak” his hold on her hair tightened.

He free hand wrapped itself around her neck. His nails digging into her skin making small droplets of blood break through it. “Oh how I have waited for this. How I have longed to rip you apart for your sins” with each word that left his mouth, his nails dug into her skin deeper.

She clawed at his hand, but to no avail. She was truly helpless in the grip of a wrathful demon. Blood dripped from her mouth as she watched you with tears in her eyes. You wanted to do something, but you knew it was nothing you could do. If you tried to stop him physically, he would only kill her faster and get more furious. Who knows who else he would then take his anger out on.

Gurgling sounds filled the room as his claws sunk in even deeper. With a giggle he ripped his hand out form her neck. His tongue leaped out and licked his bloodied hand. He sighed in delight. Yui desperately tried to stop the bleeding by pressing her hands on her wound, but the damage was to great. Her fate was sealed the first time she had glared at you.

“H…help…” she wheezed out. The gaping hole in her neck making you wanting to vomit. Veins were fully visible among with tendons. If you looked closely you could see the whiteness of her bones.

Douma pinned her down with a speed no human could possibly possess. He bit down on her shoulder and tore out a mouthful of fabric and flesh. The black haired woman screamed in terror and you thought your eardrums would explode.

“Douma!” you shouted. Your pleas feel on deaf ears as he continued to eat her alive. “Please stop!”

He didn’t spare you a single glance as he continued to tear of chunks of flesh from the screaming woman. His fangs were stained red and his pale skin speckled with blood. Despite the horrendous sight, he was utterly beautiful. It made you truly sick.

Douma’s claws dug into her chest and clutched around her heart. It was a wonder Yui wasn’t dead yet. “I’m feeling rather kind today, so I think we will stop for today” was all he said has he ripped out her heart. Her head fell back revealing her half eaten neck. Douma raised two of his fingers and flicked her forehead causing her head to tear of with a disgusting sound. With a thud it landed on the platform.

The jaws of the demon opened as he but down on her heart. He hummed in delight as he chewed.

You closed your eyes and tried to swallow the bile that threatened to spill from your lips. You cheeks were damp with tears you hadn’t seemed to notice through the horrible act that had happened before you.

“I hate you. I really hate you” you sneered through clenched teeth. You couldn’t bear to look at the pale blond demon as he happily ate the heart of the woman who he had just brutally murdered.

“Mmm… you might say that now, but it won’t be long before you run into my arms” he chuckled. “You are making me feel, [Name]. I would have never thought I would experience love before I met you. So how could I possibly let you go? I love yous i much that it hurts” he looked at with you such earnestness it took you by surprise

A splat sounded behind you as he threw the heart at the wall opposite of him. “I will be waiting my dear. Don’t disappoint me” you could feel his wile smile. Your skin felt as if it swirled up and died.

You truly hated him.

[loveanddeepthroat]

Unlucky Thirteen

Summary - Sylus liked the quiet girl with the poorly heart. She was the only kid in the laboratory who hadn’t come and gone before he could even remember what she looked like. When he doesn’t see her for a whole day, he knows that there’s only one place she could be—the Medical Bay. He’d been through it all before she’d even arrived at the lab over a year prior, and felt a duty to keep her company whilst her heart healed.

Word Count - 2.4k

Warnings - Child!Sylus and Child!MC as experimental lab rats. Mentions of child experimentation and non-consensual medical treatments. This theory of them being lab rats is not canon, so keep in mind that I have made this all up!

Sylus couldn’t find the girl with the poorly heart.

It was the third and final free hour of the day in the laboratory’s Playroom, and she was nowhere to be seen among the children.

Again.

The girl had been missing a few times before now—usually for further experimentation. But for all three of their free time breaks from observations and alterations meant only one thing.

She had to be in the Medical Bay.

He didn’t know much about the quiet girl, other than the fact that she had problems with her heart. There was always a big, white bandage over her chest that just peaked out over the neckline of her plain white gown, but he would never ask her questions about it. They only got to see each other during mealtime and free time, so discussing the things they were put through in between was something neither of them wanted to commit any time to. She didn’t want to talk about her heart as much as he didn’t want to talk about his eye.

In fact, they didn’t talk much at all. They just had a common denominator that seemed to draw them to each other.

Sylus had watched kids come and go from this place for a few years, hoping that one day it would be his turn to leave. That futile hope had been short lived, and it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere when all the other kids around him dropped off like flies. 

When she came in with a new group of kids around a year ago, he thought nothing of it. She was just a face he’d forget after she would undoubtedly be released. But as those weeks turned to months—the few children she had arrived with long gone—her face had remained a constant for Sylus.

He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d finally been freed today. The people in the lab coats were far too interested in her as of late, and she was starting to look more withdrawn each time he saw her. Much like he had when he woke from an operation he didn’t know he was having.

The more he thought about her condition, the more he hoped that she was in the Medical Bay—rather than somewhere more sinister.

He’d grown a bit of an attachment to the girl. She was the only friendly face that hadn’t left him. Even in their lack of conversation, he enjoyed her company. Felt comforted by her. They often read in silence side by side, always in whichever back corner of the Playroom was free of other kids. The less significant test subjects always delved straight into the toys and games, but the two of them had no interest in joining in.

Sometimes, if the lab coats had prodded around in his eye too much, the girl would quietly read aloud to him. He liked it when she read to him. So much so that he sometimes played on his eye problems just to hear her read for an hour.

He was used to her being absent for one or two of the three free hours they get, but this was too much for him. 

He had to get into the Medical Bay.

His head had purposely been rested against the electric heater beside the bookshelf for a few minutes as he made himself appear as clammy and feverish as possible. His cheeks burned as he pinched them repeatedly, and he put on his best nasally voice once he approached the Playroom supervisor with a little book tucked under his white t-shirt, rubbing his good eye for added effect.

“I feel sick,” he whined to the stone-faced woman in all-black clothing.

She barely threw down a glance at him, raising a lazy eyebrow. “You were fine during dinner.”

Damn.

Plan B came into quick effect. He rolled his eyes back a little, swaying where he stood. The hot skin of his forehead bumped against her hipbone as he stumbled forward dramatically, and she quickly bent down to his level, steadying him with her firm hands.

“Oh for goodness sake,” she mumbled, her frown deepening when she pressed the backs of her cold fingers against his head. She pulled out a little radio device that was tucked in the chest pocket of her shirt, speaking into it frankly with a push of its button. “Patient S013 is feeling unwell. Feverish. Permission to move from Room 11 to the Medical Bay?”

Sylus held his breath, willing whoever was on the other end of the radio call to grant the cold woman the permission he didn’t know she would need. He’d only ever been to the Medical Bay once before, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. Being examined and tested by strange scientists everyday was bad enough. He had no interest in spending time with the nurses who tended to him after his surprise surgery.

“Permission granted,” a male voice affirmed through the radio.

The stern lady grabbed suddenly at his shoulder, pushing him lightly out of the noisy room and down the silent halls. He liked when they were silent. He’d heard enough screams from children to haunt him for life.

The walk to the Medical Bay was short, and Sylus remembered to throw a few sniffles and pathetic coughs into the silent trek to keep up his charade. He must’ve still looked red faced and sickly, the nurse on duty handing him a gown to change into straight away upon his arrival.

He changed as quickly as he could behind a curtain that gave him only a sliver of privacy, tucking the book he’d smuggled from the Playroom into the inner fabric. The nurse checked his vital signs In the small triage room with nothing but a blank look on her face for comfort. Nobody around here tended to smile or show any true emotion towards the children. 

It didn’t affect Sylus at all. He didn’t know any different. Didn’t remember a time when someone smiled at him. Or when he had smiled at someone else. 

He wasn’t sure if he ever had.

The small, sterile Medical Bay was empty as he followed the nurse inside—save for the tuft of the girl's hair he could see peeking out above her blanket. He almost audibly sighed with relief to see her, but the fact that something was wrong enough for her to even be in the Medical Bay struck alarm bells in his head.

“Patient S113 isn’t feeling good, so try to be quiet,” the nurse told him. She pulled back the covers of the bed next to the girl, hurriedly ushering him to get in before giving him a syringe of medicine to take. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

He nodded, waiting for her to turn around before he took a look at the sickly girl a few feet away. The skin on her face was shiny and damp in the stark light of the strip lights above them. She didn’t look well at all, and had the thin, white blanket pulled right the way up to her chin.

The nurse administered a dose of something fluorescent yellow to her in another syringe, pressing her hand to the girl’s damp forehead with a tut. Sylus could’ve sworn that the nurse sighed a little in concern.

“That medicine should make you feel a bit better soon. Try to sleep,” she murmured to the girl quietly, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to her skin before leaving the room. 

He didn’t know what to do once the nurse closed the door behind her. The quiet girl looked so…deathly. Her colouring was a good few shades lighter than it usually was, and there was a greyish tinge to it too. Whatever was going on with her, it didn’t look good.

“What happened?” he blurted quietly.

She slowly turned her head towards him, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realised it was him.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice small and croaky.

The sound hurt something in Sylus’s chest. “What happened?” he repeated again, sitting up a little further in the bed to get a good look at her.

The girl lifted a shaky hand, pointing straight to where her heart was. “I think it’s broken,” she replied.

Sylus frowned a little. He didn’t know that hearts could break. Bones could break, he knew that much. He’d seen broken bones quite often in this place. Her heart wasn’t like most people’s—he knew that too. 

But it couldn’t break. Right?

“Are they going to make it better?”

She blinked at him a few times, and he really studied her. This was the most they’d ever said to each other in conversation, but it didn’t feel strange or wrong like he thought it might. It felt natural. Almost like they were both still here in the wake of so many other young patients’ departures for a specific reason. 

He found himself wanting to know more. He wanted to know everything about her heart—including how to fix it.

Her weary eyes glanced around the room for any listening ears, and she shifted the blanket down from her chin so she could see over it. She eventually whispered back to him, “I’m not sure that they’re even trying to fix it.” She took a shuddering breath in, wincing a little bit. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

That’s when he noticed it.

In the absence of the blanket, he saw the gnarly tail end of a stitched up incision where he would usually see a bit of the bandage she always donned on her chest. He may have been young, but he knew without having to ask what the lab coats had done to her. They’d done the same thing to him once before. Put him to sleep without warning to poke and prod into the innards of his most interesting body part—his right eye. He had no idea why they were so interested in it, or why they were equally as interested in her heart. But whatever the reason, it was mutually exclusive to the two of them.

“They’ve done that to me, too,” he reassured her quietly, trying to shift that anxious look from her tired face. She didn’t know what was going on, so he felt a duty to soothe any worries on her mind. “I woke up in here with a big bandage over my eye before you came to live here. Couldn’t see properly for a few weeks, but it got better. Like your heart will.”

The girl looked apprehensive, but seemed a little bit more settled to know that he’d been in the same situation previously. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been here for a long time.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but he answered like it was. He didn’t want to stop talking with her, hoping it was bringing her some semblance of peace. “I have,” he confirmed with a nod. “Me and twelve other kids were the first here. That’s why I’m patient S013.”

“Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number,” she whispered.

Sylus cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was kidding. He’d never heard of that before, but if she was right, it would make perfect sense. Patients S013 and S113 being the two most focused on subjects in the lab coats’ top secret experiments did seem a bit too coincidental in his mind.

He sure did have a lot of time on his hands to think about things like that, too. She was the one hundredth kid after him to arrive, and ended up stuck here with him for the foreseeable. Maybe whichever newcomer unlucky enough to be patient S213 would end up in their same predicament.

“We’ll find our luck one day,” he finally responded, exuding all of his confidence into that one sentence. He was determined that he’d fight his way out of here one day, and that he’d be able to bring her with him. He wasn’t strong enough—not yet. But whatever they were doing to him here, he’d use it to his own advantage once he got a good understanding of it. “Maybe we’ll both get out of here, and we can see what the world is like.”

The girl smiled. Smiled at him, even in her state. It wouldn’t have been possible to not smile back, no matter how unnatural it felt for the corners of his lips to curl.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Her blinks were slowing down, and she looked sleepy. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the ocean one day, like I’ve read about in books.”

Sylus suddenly remembered the book he’d smuggled in, still resting coldly against his stomach beneath his gown. He quickly reached down into the neckline, grabbing it out and waving it up for her to see it.

“I could read to you, if you want? While you fall asleep.” He wasn’t sure if it would help her in any way, but the familiarity of a book seemed like the best form of comfort he could think of for her.

Her tired eyes lit up a little, and her smile widened. It struck something in Sylus’s heart, and for a moment, he wondered if he had a heart problem. He’d never felt such a feeling, but he liked it. It felt like a real feeling. Not just the horrible physical feelings of aches and pains.

It was a mental feeling. A caring feeling.

He settled himself back against the plump pillow behind him, opening up the book. It was a children’s fable that they’d read many times before, and the one book he enjoyed hearing her read. He checked on her once more, making sure she was still awake and eager to hear him read.

The idea of a book seemed to wake her up a bit from her fatigue, but even so, Sylus would read the book over and over until it lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

He quietly cleared his throat reading the title aloud the way she always does.

“The Kitten Who Met The Crow…”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story! I think the lab rats theory is so interesting and couldn’t resist this sweet little idea! I’ve been a bit slow on the content recently and I do apologise, but I’m in the midst of moving into a new apartment and the stress of that on top of the way my neurodivergent son is struggling to cope with it has turned my brain to mush. Things should settle soon and I’ll be back on the requests 🤍

[sepherinaspoppies]

Temporary Fix- Martin x Reader

summary: Martin is desperate to feel something. Anything. Rest? Relief? Sleep? Pleasure? Then he meets you, who can assure him that he will feel all of what he seeks.

warnings: drug use, hair pulling, handjob, ball play?, face riding, sub martin, dom reader, clit piercing stimulation, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, (please don’t be silly wrap that willy), surprise at the end!

wc: 4,675

click here to be added to my general taglist

divider by @saradika-graphics

masterlist

notes: im so sorry this took a long ass time, family problems and I just moved back to Mexico so ive been busy lol.

For weeks, perhaps months, his body was aching. Tension had built up around his lower back, feeling like pins and needles stabbing the muscles of his back. Soon after, those aches and pains shifted over to his chest, and it felt like a heavy weight that couldn’t be shaken away, making it difficult for him to breathe.

Especially late at night. 

Which prompted him to consume one of his mum’s low dosage of Ibuprofen. While the effects of the pill worked, it only lasted about an hour or two the most. Eventually his mum caught on the missing pills, but luckily his mum believed the little white lie he told, excusing it as his sister’s behavior. 

With nothing to dull the never-ending sensation, he needed desperately to find relief elsewhere.  

And that’s how he met you. 

Out of all the places in town, he’d never assumed to meet a drug dealer in an open field, sitting by the train tracks, staring into the distance, with a cigarette in one hand and a lollipop in the other.  

“I have hypoglycemia.” You informed as you turned around. 

It is then when he took in the rest of your appearance. Your eyes were dark, smudged by black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Silver glitter cascading down your cheeks, giving the illusion of tears.  On top of your left brow, two little studs of a piercing decorated your skin. And below that piercing were two other piercings, a septum and a lip ring. 

He tried to picture you without the dark makeup and piercings, somehow he couldn’t. It suited you.  

You wore a t-shirt of one of his favorite bands, Black Sabbath. Paired up with a black tennis skirt and fishnets that accentuated the length of your legs. Truly, you were beautiful. 

“What’s that?” He asked you, off topic, taking a few steps towards you.

You exhaled a cloud of smoke, then dragged your tongue around the sweet. “Low blood sugar. When my sugar levels drop below a certain level, I faint.” He nods his head, noticing another silver piercing on the tip of your tongue. 

Hot. 

He wondered what other piercings you hid underneath your clothes, he had a feeling the facial piercings were not the only piercings you had. 

His ocean blue eyes continued to stare at you, assessing if you were who his mate had referred him to. “You’re Tommy?” He asked. 

You threw your head back in a laugh. “No, that’s my brother’s name. I strictly use it for business.” You kicked the grass that stuck to your boots as you stood up, getting ready for the usual business exchange. “Most people don’t buy drugs from girls.” Though, you didn’t know why. You were great at not getting caught. No one had suspected a thing when you had done a deal next to a policeman. 

“Would you have come if you knew I was a girl?” You questioned. 

“Fair point.” His lips pulled into a faint smirk. “So, what’s your name?” 

You placed your cherry flavored lollipop back into your mouth, hiding the amusement from his view. There was no denying that the guy in front of you was attractive. Judging by his looks alone, he fit right into the description of guys whom you considered your type. 

His long black hair reminded you of Eric Draven, from the Crow. He was tall and lean, similar to the fictional character you had posters on your bedroom walls. But it was his eyes that pulled you in. Which was a shame, you strictly forbade yourself to not date any of your clients. If you’d call them that. 

The last time you did, he left you panicked and traumatized. You have learned your lesson since then. 

“Will, said you need some sedatives. I have some bars; aka Xanax.” You shake the translucent orange bottle of white bars from your pocket. “They’re legit. They work. But it’ll cost you two hundred quid.” 

His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at the said price. He carried only a hundred in his wallet and a fifty that his mum gave him for groceries. 

Fuck!

His reaction caused you to narrow your eyes, “Fine, one-eighty quid.” You negotiated, putting on your best serious and business face. 

That, however, doesn’t deter him. “One-twenty.” 

You scoff loudly. You were generous by giving him a twenty percent discount, and he wants more?

The nerve of this guy!

“One-sixty.” You counteroffer. 

“One-fifty.” 

“Done.” You reply as you both are quick to exchange goods. Immediately so, you begin to count the money in case of any scams the dark brunette might throw your way. After all, you barely met the guy. 

“Is this…chocolate?” Martin asked, a little taken back that you managed to slip a small Butterfingers next to the translucent bottle. 

Is it normal for drug dealers to provide chocolate to their clients?

He wouldn’t know. Though, the last time Martin bought drugs was with one of his mates, behind a very smelly bin next to a seafood restaurant. Not once did that sketchy, and yet very creepy, dealer gave them a sweet after their transaction. 

He hears you chuckle, a playful look on your pretty face. “I carry candy with me wherever I go. That’s for you. You look like you could use it.” 

“What if you faint?” He stops before you have the chance to walk away.

“Don't worry, I won’t.” You smile, using the heart shaped lollipop to wave him goodbye. 

His eyes watch you walk away, and his breath hitches when a small breeze lifts the back of your skirt, giving him a delicious eyeful of what was underneath. 

-

As soon as his bedroom door closes, Martin begins to inspect the bottle you’d given him. He wondered how many of the little bars he could take. He knew, of course, not the whole thing. His mum would scream at his overdosed corpse and probably descend into madness. 

So it was safe to say, he only took one.

It dissolved on his tongue almost instantly, and about an hour later or so the effects started to kick in. 

The waves of anxiety and the aches and pains Martin usually got during this hour never came. He felt at peace; calm as he stared into the silver glow of moonlight out of his window.

A heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in months Martin finally fell asleep quite comfortably. 

-

This exchange between you and Martin went on for about two more months, meeting at the field exchanging goods and Martin usually attempting to ask you out, only for you to deny him every time. 

Eventually, Martin got the hint and no longer hit on you, much to your disappointment. Not only that, you started seeing him less and less as he only met you once every two weeks. Regularly seeing you every week. 

Maybe you were a little harsh for not giving him a chance. 

But you reckon that wasn’t the case as he would’ve completely cut ties with you. 

There must have been something else on his mind or perhaps his work life got the best of him; which was good. 

You wished nothing but the best. 

After contemplating on whether to call or not call Martin, you decided to instead shoot a message to your shared friend, Will. He informed you that he hadn’t seen him around or heard from him in some days. Which was odd since they were best mates, often talking about random shit (including you but Will would never tell you). 

Will you make sure he’s alright? You texted. 

Can’t. I’m staying over at my girlfriend’s. But since you care about your best customer, go ahead and pay him a visit ;)

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you could hear Will’s tantalizing voice inside your head.

Stupid wanker. You thought as you typed Martin’s address on your phone. 

It wasn’t that far from your apartment, only a couple of streets over that was doable by walking. 

Though, Will mentioned for you to sneak through the upstair’s window as he lived with his parents. You were thankful you wore good shoes fit for the climb but not a good enough outfit as you reckon anyone passing by would get an eyeful of your ass. 

Martin laid on his bed, playing with what looked to be a miniature helicopter. Although you couldn’t hear what he was saying you still found the act a little funny. 

“Martin!” You knocked through the window, not too loud and just for him to hear. You watch as he jolts a little, his face showing a mixture of fear and confusion once his eyes settle on you. 

Instantly, he sets his toy aside and runs to you, opening the window and helping you up. You mutter a breathless ‘thanks’ which makes Martin nod. “What are you doing here?” He asks, a bit surprised by your random presence in his room. 

“Oh, I- wait, what happened to your face?!” You exclaimed, panic rooting deep in your stomach. Martin turned his head away but you weren’t having that. You softly placed your hands to the sides of his cheeks, examining the markings on his face. 

The bruises on his nose and lip were fresh, probably from a few hours or so ago.

“It’s nothing, really.” Martin murmured, attempting yet again to push your grasp. “It doesn’t look like it!” You say, keeping a firm hold on both sides of his cheeks. If you weren’t so concerned about the cuts and bruises, you would’ve taken your time in appreciating how soft and smooth his cheeks were. 

“Why do you care?” He murmured very quietly under his breath as his eyes no longer met yours. 

It was a good question, why did you care? You weren’t this… caring for your other clients. You had your regulars, most of them coming and going. Not once did you bother to think about them, caring only for the cash that kept you well-fed and alive. 

You knew something about Martin was different from the others. Yet, you had a hard time deciphering the answer to his question. 

Why did you care?

“I don’t know. I just know I do.” You sighed, taking a seat right next to him. A long comfortable silence followed between you two, and you took your time to inspect the details around the perimeter of his bedroom. 

A few posters were scattered on his walls, some of them were a few bands such as Nirvana, The Smiths, and one of your personal favorites: Oasis. The other posters seemed to be art pieces done by himself as the various kinds of paint brushes and the smeared paint on the surface of his desk proved it. 

He was an artist. 

Far left towards a desk sat a large terrarium made for a reptile that you couldn’t see. You wanted to giggle at the miniature couch and bed Martin made for the little fellow, it was cute and you could tell how much he cared about his pet. 

“Why did you come?” Martin finally spoke, although faint. 

“Honestly?” You clear your throat as you shift your feet awkwardly, “I hadn’t seen you in a while; I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Not because of the drugs?” He asks. 

You tried to conceal a smile at the mirthful tone of his voice. “No…” 

His eyes narrow at you and you swore you saw a hint of something playful in his features before he shifted his body to face you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine. Yes, also because of the drugs but mostly because… I- I cared for your well being.” 

Oh God. 

Heat expands around Martin’s face, and he was glad that there was barely any light for you to see. “I’m sort of alright,” he shrugs. Martin has been better, definitely when the drugs did their job. 

Your head tilts to the side at the ‘sort of’. “Sort of? Are you not taking them anymore?” Martin shakes his head.

“I don’t like ‘em anymore. Couldn’t feel anything. Nothing.” Martin did not understand why. The first couple of weeks went fine without any trouble or problems. He had become more productive than he’d ever been, from helping his mum and his little sister with chores and homework to picking up extra shifts (which was totally unlike him). 

Then about two weeks ago, everything changed. Martin walked to a new coffee shop when someone— his ex-girlfriend of two years— had accidentally bumped into him as she walked out, spilling hot coffee on his chest and hands. 

Normally, one would wince and possibly shriek at the burning sensation, but not him. He smiled at Lydia as she stammered apologies, not feeling the harsh burns on his skin. 

As an apology, Lydia had agreed to go out for dinner at their favorite restaurant when they were still together. 

They had a good time, catching up about their work, family, and friends. Martin learned new things about her he didn’t even know when they dated. After a few pints and cigarettes, Lydia brought him over to her apartment, where they both stripped each other’s clothes off instantly. 

But along the good, comes bad.

Martin had her on all fours, her cunt glistening with so much of her arousal, needy and ready for him. To his horror, Martin’s dick couldn’t seem to get hard. No matter how many times he fisted himself, his dick was unresponsive. 

Discomfited, Martin practically ran out without an explanation. Dick move, he knows. 

Since then, Martin figured the drug was the cause for his insensitivity. So he stopped altogether. 

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one,” you slump down Martin’s bed once he finishes explaining. Martin furrows his brows in confusion but soon begins to puzzle the pieces. “So those were your pills?” He recalled that moment when he saw faint letters of a name, your name, printed on the bottle. It was a prescription. Your prescription. 

“Yea, it was to help with my panic attacks,” you explain. Though, carefully not to give too much of your personal information. “While it helped, it also made me insensitive.” At that, Martin sat up straighter attentively listening to you.

“That’s why I got all these tattoos and piercings, I hoped I could feel the pain of the needle as it went right in.” You could still recall the piercer’s shocked expression when you exhibited no look of pain. You confirmed that you weren’t intoxicated and signed a waiver that everyone signs. Yet the piercer had counted to three with every piercing, and not once did you flinch.

Martin glanced up at the piercings on your face, “Did you?” He asked. You shook your head, moving your arms around, to show Martin the many tattoos. He thought of you brave for not even flinching at something so painful. As much as he appreciated tattoos, he would never get one on himself. The thought of needles made Martin a bit light headed. 

“Are these the only tattoos you have?” 

“No, I have more.” If your parents were still alive, they’d go crazy at the amount of tattoos you had. 

“May I see?” 

Your other tattoos and piercings were located in a more private area on your body, and you would’ve said no. But it was the ‘may I’ that made you agree. 

Your fingers lifted the hem of your oversized t-shirt, neatly placing it next to you on the bed. You move your hair to the side, granting him more access and the art that took hours to create on your body. 

Martin sat amazed, especially at one tattoo in particular. A long branch of wild flowers started between your clothed breasts, going down your hip and finally wrapping around your thigh. It was beautiful that he did not notice the belly button piercing just sitting below it. 

The art piece was precise, fully detailed as possible that Martin knew it must've taken you multiple sessions to finish. 

Inadvertently, Martin’s fingers start to trace one of the flowers, following the pattern down and down causing you to hitch your breath at the near proximity of where they were going. 

“Beautiful,” Martin compliments under his breath. Your skin was so soft that he had no desire to take his hands away. 

And you didn’t want him to either. You wanted Martin to continue exploring every inch of your body for his touch was feather-like and gentle, sparking something within you. 

Martin looks at you and your eyes are warm and relaxed. His fingers suddenly halt at your inner thigh, right where the branch ends. “You want me to keep going?” He whispers, moving closer towards you, his hands ready to remove the unnecessary clothing until you said that one word of consent. 

You licked your lips, feeling the heat from his body coming closer and forward. His lips were only a breath away from yours, awaiting an answer from you. 

“Yes,” you whispered back, your head tilting upwards as you brushed your lips with his. The hand that he used earlier, grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you swiftly to close the small gap. 

Your lips were just as he imagined them to be, perhaps even better as he pulled you by your underarms and sat you right on his lap, where you gasped at the hardness of his length pressing against your abdomen, feeling every solid inch of himself. 

And there was plenty of him. 

You continued to chase his lips, never once pausing for required air. The kiss was full of want and need that made you feel like a puddle on his arms. Shivers went down Martin’s back at the cooling sensation of your tongue piercing colliding with his own. Only then, he began to imagine what that piercing would feel like on his cock, resting right there on the bulbous tip where you would swallow every single drop of his come. 

In his desperation, Martin’s hands went to unclasp your bra, only for you to tut at him, placing his hands on back on his sides. “No touching, I call the shots here.” You scolded him as if he were a little boy. 

Martin’s jaw dropped at your dominant tone, not that he was complaining.

“Do you wanna feel with me?” You whispered, trailing your hands up and down his chest, now that you got rid of his shirt, admiring the light brown sprinkles of hair. His pectoral muscles flexing against your delicate touch.  

He nodded vehemently— desperately, blue eyes staring at your cherry pink lips. “I wanna feel everything with you.” It was a want and a need right now. 

“Take off your shorts,” he did as you commanded and you swore your insides clenched at the mouth watering view, “d-do not move or come until I tell you to. Understand?” You asked, keeping composure. 

You sat behind him immediately after he said yes. A part of Martin was a bit confused on what you had planned for him but another part of him found the mystery of it all quite exciting. And he was right, his hips jolted forward as soon as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing so wonderfully.

Martin moaned as you gave open mouthed kisses all around his neck before your teeth grazed around the sensitive skin, marking what was yours. You did the same to the other side until you were satisfied and skin covered with love bites you wanted everyone to see outside his bedroom walls. 

With the same hand, you slowly began to stroke his cock, pulling the foreskin up and down, your thumb resting at his baby pink tip, admiring the way it twitched with more of his arousal. Your other hand, reached to cup his balls, giving them a good squeeze. Combined, made Martin see stars. 

“Oh…fuck,” he stuttered, feeling his end approaching. 

You smirked, stroking his pretty cock faster. “If you come, I’ll punish you. And you won’t like it when I do, baby. I won’t show you any mercy.” The last guy you punished ended up passing out within seconds, and as much as you wanted to punish Martin, you needed him. Needed his cock inside you. 

A part of him was intrigued at what you’d do, but Martin chose not to awaken that side of you. He wanted to be good so that he’d earn his reward. His release.

You watched as Martin kept control of his breathing, his hands fisting the sheets impossibly tight. Meanwhile you found yourself growing wetter and wetter at the little whines he let out. 

This went about a few more minutes until Martin ran out of things to think about to not come. From his grandmother to his best mate, Will. While it worked, the need to release screamed louder with each fast stroke. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, I can't-can't hold it much longer!" Martin whined, as heat settled in his gut with each involuntary thrust up.

You grabbed his jaw to face you, noticing a few tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. You slowly swirled your thumb at the wet slit, causing Martin to sob loudly. “Aw, you wanna come?” You cooed, biting his earlobe not too harshly. 

“Yes! Yes! Please! I beg you, I- I- need it!” Any more of your teasing, Martin was sure his dick would fall right off. “Please!” He begged yet again, his pretty blue eyes full of want and need. 

When you finally were going to grant his release, he did the unexpected and touched you. Using your hand to stroke his cock at a much faster pace. Then Martin released a long moan of your name as ropes of his come gushed on his lower belly and your hand. 

Finally, he came. 

Just as he relaxed in your arms, he sat back up frozen in fear over what he had done. 

“Did I say you could come?” You questioned, with an angry and dangerous tone. “I’m sorry–” Martin tried to apologize, holding your hand to prevent you from leaving. But you weren’t having it. Those sweet puppy eyes wouldn’t work on you anymore. 

“Only good boys deserve to come. And since you were bad, you don’t get to come anymore–”

“But I am your good boy. I won’t do it again, I promise.” The dark haired brunette pleaded, caressing his head with your hand. “Please, I'll be so good to you.” 

“Then prove to me how much of a good boy you really are, Martin.” His hands automatically shift you down the bed, ripping your fishnets right down the center of where he truly wanted to show you how good he was. 

“No, I wanna sit on your face.” You briefly told him and Martin’s eyes widened with interest. 

“Can you keep this on?” Martin pointed at your fishnets. 

You agreed. 

With great enthusiasm, Martin lays on the bed, ready to use his tongue on you. He hoped he wouldn’t disappoint you, never once did he receive a complaint about his head game. However, in those experiences he was the one in charge. Now, Martin was about to unlock a new experience he was set on trying for years. 

After you rid yourself of your bra, you hurriedly crawled your way to Martin’s face, setting your knees on both sides of his face. Martin’s eyes darkened, not only at your heart shaped nipple piercings on both of your breasts, but the piercing over the small hood on top of your sex. 

A clit piercing. 

“Be a good boy,” you instructed before you lowered yourself on his mouth. Your hands gripped the metal bed frame for leverage as you slowly grind your cunt, back and forth. 

Martin hummed, in total bliss at the taste of your sweet slick that was coating his face. You moan loudly as he moves his nose against your piercing, sending shocks of pleasure to your spine. His tongue feasts on you, licking the seam of your folds with each of your grinds. 

You press your core closer to his face, unconcerned if Martin could breathe; not that he minded. It was a good way to die, though. And your jaw drops open with multiple breathless moans, once his tongue made its way inside your entrance, licking inside your quivering walls. 

Martin’s eyes stared at you as you were lost in complete pleasure, you truly looked devine sitting on his face. He could come on just this alone, but he didn’t want to risk another punishment from you. Martin was set on being your good boy, so for now he had to follow your instructions. 

“Yes, that’s it!” You rip one of your hands from the headboard and dig them into his hair, guiding him where you want him, as you are getting closer to that cliff of euphoria. Martin happily goes where you want him. 

When you guide his head towards your bud, Martin moves his nose at a much faster speed. When you guide his head lower, Martin sucks and licks at your entrance vigorously. 

“S-so good!” You praise and it took everything in Martin to not come. 

Martin moans. The vibrations alone cause your thighs to shake and release multiple broken moans as that tight coil at the pit of your stomach finally snapped, triggering your release. 

“Oh fuck, Martin!” You shout, pinching your hardened nipple for extra stimulation. 

Martin laps every gush of your sweetness, licking you clean through your orgasm. He watches as the apple of your cheeks flush bright red, and your eyes flutter rapidly in what he thinks is bliss. 

“I’m too sensitive now,” you whined as you laid down next to Martin, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.  

Martin frowns, he wanted to make you come another round, this time–with your permission– he’d use his fingers. 

“Did I do good?” Martin asks as he lays on his side to face you. 

“Perfect.” 

“Do I get a reward?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “No.” You say as you straddle his hips, and Martin hisses when you grip the base of his cock, running the swollen head around your pussy, gathering wetness before you slid down. 

Martin’s eyes roll in the back of his head over the smugness and warmth of your tight walls clamping down at him. The feeling of you was indescribable, heavenly; and he couldn’t do anything but groan and grip tightly at his sheets, desperately wanting you to move. 

Once you adjusted to his overly girthy length, you began to grind your hips at an angle where you could feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix and hitting that special spot inside of you that had you cross-eyed. 

Fuck he was big. 

“I won’t be able to last much longer,” Martin warns, gasping at every clench you give. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Martin.” You snaked your fingers down your bud, circling your pierced clit before you came once again with a loud whine so unlike you. 

However your eyes, in which you didn’t realize were closed, shot open as you felt Martin’s cock pulsate and instantly separated yourself from him causing him to whimper over the loss of contact. 

“Please! I need-want to come inside of you!” He cried, chasing his hips towards your pussy. 

You denied him that and started again. 

Every round Martin was close to coming, you detach yourself from him. Until your hips became somewhat sluggish, Martin took you by surprise and threw you at the end of his bed, mounting you from behind. You were at a loss for words as he slid inside of you without warning, giving hard, fast, and needy thrusts. 

“Be a good girl and take what I give you,” Martin mumbles as he grips the roots of your hair, forcing your head to look at him. “You don’t get to come anymore. Do you understand?”

You have no choice but to oblige.

[kozumesphone]

✮⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

⤷ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader

masterlist | event m.list

♡ fandom | the heroes of olympus

♡ includes | songfic (sort of), daughter of poseidon!reader, leo and reader both have glasses in this fic (YES i’m fulfilling my own delusions, leave me alone), ALL CHARACTERS INCLUDING READER ARE 17-18 pls don’t come at me for getting them married 🙏, leo x reader wedding, pre-established relationship, fluff, comfort, beautiful no nonsense kissing and happiness, tbh this is retribution for my previous emercy angst, HAPPINESS, third person pov for like five seconds, not proofread

♡ in which | leo and reader get married <3

♡ a/n | ok shiit. this was supposed to be a newlyweds prompt, but I wanted to write a wedding scene before that, so I completely missed the prompt that was requested ☹️ I still hope this fluff makes up for it a bit, and i'll try to work on a part 2 for a newlyweds drabble (tho I can't promise i'll actually end up writing it, sorry 💀)

♡ wc | 1.3k

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“i’m way too nervous, my hands are shaking and what if I drop the ring? he’ll think i’m stupid! and he’ll leave me right there!”

“n/n? respectfully? shut up,” annabeth sighed.

“this is leo we’re talking about, man, and if there’s one thing I know for sure about him, other than the fact that he loves marshmallows, it’s that he’s whipped as fuck for you,” will’s voice rang out, walking into my cabin.

“trust!” piper’s voice came out of my closet, where she was looking for something decent for me to wear.

“okay… but, now I don’t have anything to wear. that’s another problem,” I whined.

“you could walk out there, and get married in your camp clothes, and it’d have the same effect on him either way,” piper rolled her eyes. “his mouth would like, hang open, and he’d make heart eyes at you—”

“shut up,” I grumbled. “what am I going to wear, pipes?”

“don’t you worry, darling, I got you,” she said, and winked at me, and handed me a denim-leather jacket.

✮⋆˙ leo’s pov

“what if I trip and fall in front of her? will she leave me—who am I kidding, of course she’ll leave me!—”

“she loves you, stop crying about it,” jason said, rolling his eyes.

nico walked in with a red tie and black leather jacket in tow, and told me it was one of the other kids who lent it to him (clearly not).

“oh. thanks,” I smiled.

“yeah, sure. uh, listen, valdez,” nico started. I narrowed my eyes at him. “if you ever hurt her, or make her cry, or anything, I will know. and I will come for your blood. and your organs, because the market is amazing for livers these days—”

“same here,” percy said. “if I see my little sister sad because of you? you’re done for, fire boy.”

they walked over to me, throwing their arms around my shoulder. “got it?”

“obviously,” I rolled my eyes. “and if she’s ever sad because of me, I think i’d kill myself.”

✮⋆˙ 3rd person pov

percy walked with his hand in y/n’s. she walked down the aisle in a black crop top below her unbuttoned white shirt, and a denim-leather jacket strung on top. in that moment, leo could only comprehend how much she looked like herself.

she was fidgeting nervously with her belt while walking towards him.

she looked up, shocked, to see him almost matching with her: white shirt, red tie, black leather jacket, and even the playboy grin.

I like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings…

uh huh, that’s right…

watching him smile at her melted away her anxiety.

he wouldn’t leave her, of course not. they were in this together, forever.

a lopsided grin creeped up her face, setting his heart on fire.

she would always love him, he realised. never would she even think of leaving him.

darling, you’re the one I want, and…

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

percy let go of my hand so I could walk further towards leo, leaving me a thumbs-up.

“hey handsome,” I whispered, stopping in front of leo.

“hey beautiful,” he whispered back, still smiling at me.

“even after so many years, you know how to get my brain to stop functioning, it’s unfair,” I groaned, as he chuckled. his hand slipped into mine, lacing our fingers together. his thumb stroked the back of my hand as we turned to chiron, who was officiating our wedding.

he asks all our friends—dressed in shades of either blue or orange—to take their seats. we watched the youngest demigods, who were less than ten years old, walk around the chairs, giving out flowers to everyone.

“dearly beloved,” chiron reads out of his pocket notebook. “we are gathered here today to witness my two little kids join together in holy matrimony.”

everyone laughed and then quieted down.

“you can do your speeches or vows,” he prompted.

I exhaled and started first. “mia cara, thank you. I can’t believe today’s, well, finally here. I remember the, um, first day we met. we were both caught planting something for a prank in coach hedge’s bag, and spent a day in detention together,” I laughed and went on. “well, that was pretty much the day I fell in love with you. i’m so happy I have a boyfriend—well, almost-husband—and a best friend, both in the same person. so, I guess what I want to say is… I love you, leo.”

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…

uh huh, that’s right…

his eyes were glossing over, and a tear escaped down his cheek. I wiped it away, and smiled at him.

“oh my god, that was so sappy,” he rolled his eyes at me.

I hit him in his shoulder, and he laughed. “anyway, I think I never told you this, but I knew you before that day.”

I gasped a little bit and my eyes widened.

“it was the day you transferred to that wilderness school, probably around a month before we met. you were wearing the same jacket you’re wearing today, and your hair was in tiny braids, and oh my god, I remember thinking, ‘if I don’t talk to that girl soon, i’ll never forgive myself’ but I waited a whole month because I was too nervous.”

I laughed, “you were nervous for a month?”

“shut up bro,” he groaned. “you were just so beautiful and I thought you looked smart, which, I mean, you are. but then, I found out you were planning some prank for a bet, and I figured that was my chance.”

darling, you're the one I want…

“who knew that the first pranks we pulled would bring us to get married, huh?” I chuckled.

“I knew,” he said, “that was obviously why I did it. anyway, I wanna end this speech or whatever by saying what I thought of you the first day we met: I love you, y/n, and you’re stuck with me for life!”

“I better hope so, you’re not allowed to leave me ever, anyway,” I rolled my eyes.

chiron laughed at us, and called the ringbearers. “it’s time for you to exchange your rings.”

an eight-year old apollo camper and his twin brother walked up to us with matching boxes. each one gave a box to one of us.

we opened the boxes, got the rings out and held them.

leo pulled our interlocked hands up and let go, to slip his ring on my finger. I grinned at him, and placed mine on his finger as well. he smiled when he realised they were the first rings we had bought together after we snuck out of camp for the first time.

“with the power vested in me,” chiron started. “I now pronounce you man and wife. you may kiss the bri—”

before chiron could even finish, leo’s hands were on my waist, bringing me closer, our mouths colliding.

in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams…

oh, you’re the one I want…

our glasses hit each others’ twice, but neither of us cared. his hands were squeezing my waist, as if it were the end of the world if he let go. my hands wrapped around his neck, and I pulled him in closer than humanly possible.

his kisses were rarely soft and sweet, so today wasn’t a surprise.

tongues colliding, my hands in his hair, and grinning against each others’ lips.

“till death do them part!” a voice rang out from the crowd, everyone else laughing.

“even death won’t do us part, mi vida,” he pulled back, smiling and whispered.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 5

Hello! I'm really love the response to this story. Thank you everyone who commented or tagged.

In this part we get to meet Ellie their costume designer, and Steve proves why he's there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

~

Steve was doing his warm ups when Chrissy came up to him.

“Hey,” she said. “We finally got our costume designer in at the same time as you. So you need to go to the dressing room and get measured.”

He nodded and went back to the dressing room. It was a long room packed with vanities, costumes, and props. It was where everyone got dressed. Man and woman alike. Eddie’s club was making good money, but it was just easier to just have everyone in the same room. Plus, it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen everyone else’s bits. After all, nakedness was part of the job.

The only one who had his own dressing room was Eddie. And that was because it doubled as his office. It had all his costumes, his guitars, but also his desk and filing cabinets. It had a long green, leather sofa two big fluffy armchairs across from his desk chair.

Standing at the end of the of the room in front of the rows and rows of clothing racks where all the costumes were kept was a woman in her early twenties with curly, brown hair and slim figure. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face. But he liked her style. It was funky and eclectic and Steve instantly loved it.

“Hey,” he called out gently. “I’m here to measured and hopefully not be found wanting.”

She turned around with a giggle. “And would you be William or Count Adhemar in this situation?”

Steve laughed. “My hope is to always be the hero, especially in my own story. And do I call you Kate or something else?”

“Ellie will do just fine,” she said with a smile. “So you’re the new Envy. You aren’t what I was expecting, if I’m honest.”

“No?” he said as he finished walking the rest of the way to her. “I’m not sure what you were told about me, so...”

Again Ellie giggled. “Well judging from the way Eddie and Chrissy talk about you I was expecting someone taller at the very least. You are conventionally attractive, but I guess I was thinking more Chris Hemsworth then Chris Pine, if I’m honest.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he said. “Personally I prefer Pine over all the other Chrises. He’s got a ‘fuck you I do what I want’ style I like.”

“Me too,” she said with a soft knowing smile. “So let’s get those measurements and then afterwards we can talk about what you want out of your costumes. I understand you and Chrissy are going to be Hansel and Gretel for the Fairy Tale Night, is that right?”

Steve nodded. “I think that Eddie just wants to see me in lederhosen.” He paused for a second. “My best friend, Robin, too, now that I think about it.”

She laughed out loud for the first time and Steve decided she should laugh more. It was cute. “Well, aren’t they going to be disappointed. It’s meant to be sexy, not ridiculous.”

He smiled back at her. Yeah, they were going to along just fine. Ellie went through measuring him, quickly and efficiently. Steve was impressed by her professionalism and she was impressed by his ability to take direction and to hold still when told.

Once they were done Ellie sat him down and she pulled out a sketch book. She showed him the designs for the Hansel outfit. It had a lot of layers so that as they went through the forest more clothes would come off. Lamia would be the witch and Eddie’s Lucifer would rescue them. It was all very hot and Steve couldn’t wait to preform it.

“I love it,” he told Ellie. “Can we make the costumes brown on the outside and get lighter and lighter until the bottom layer is white?”

Ellie tapped her pencil to her lips. “What if we started off with black and worked our way through grey to white?”

Steve resisted the urge to sigh. It was Eddie wish to be everything black or red for their costumes and it looked the costume designer felt the same. “How about red?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “That could work!” And she pulled out her colored pencils and got to work coloring the different layers. Once she was done, she looked up at him and he grinned back.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now let me tell you what I’m going to need from my costume and you can help me figure out what it should look like.”

She nodded and listened to his wants and needs, jotting down notes and sketching out ideas as he talked.

“I might not take it all off every time,” Steve admitted, scratching his cheek nervously. “But I want the option there if at all possible.”

Ellie did a couple more sketches and showed them to him. He took the sketch book from her as he examined the different designs. He pointed to the one on the left. “Add some of the flare from the second one and I think you’ve got it.”

She added the flourishes from the one costume to the other and then showed Steve. He nodded.

“All right,” she said standing up, “I’ll be by in a couple of weeks with your costume for a fitting and see if there’s any tweaks to finalize. I’ve also taken your current costume and will have it sent over on Sunday so that you are able to dance easier.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. I’ll be glad to be able to do my job without sacrificing a gallon of blood every night.”

Steve walked her out and said goodbye. Then he got back to warm ups and practice. He was about done with his first solo routine when one of the dancers came up to him.

“Why are you so special that Ellie came to you?” the young man bit out. “Everyone else had to go to her shop to get measured.”

Steve looked up at him with a frown. “You’re Leviathan, right?” The guy nodded. “I’m busy during the day and on my nights off. And when I was free, she was busy. She offered to come to me during practice, man, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Why you’re getting such preferential treatment?” Levi huffed. “Boss wouldn’t let us backup dancers even try out for Envy even though we should have been given the chance first. We’ve been here longer and deserve a crack at making real money. But no... you come in here with your stupid little heaven song and your stupid little angel dances and now you’re getting Ellie to come to you? It’s bullshit!”

Steve just put his hands up in the air. “You’re acting like I’m some evil mastermind designed to fuck up your life, but the truth is it sounds life your beef is with Eddie not me. I’m not the one who set up tryouts. I’m not the one that called Ellie to come get my measurements. I’m not the one that suggested the angel theme, all I did was pick a song that would get me noticed. Eddie is the one who did all those things. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to warm up.”

Levi snarled and turned on his heel, stomping away. Or as much stomping as one could when you’d spent your life learning to land as softly as possible.

Steve rolled his shoulders. He was used to people blaming him because he was rich and popular and good looking and could fucking dance. They couldn’t get over the fact that he had these natural talents; things he was born with that he didn’t chose. But it was always his fault anyway.

Chrissy came back from wherever she had gone during his session with Ellie, with a big smile. “You ready to back into this?” she asked cheerfully.

“Ready when you are!”

~

To say Eddie was pissed would be an understatement. He had just gotten off the phone with some Bible thumping street preacher demanding that they shutter their doors and repent to come to God.

When Eddie told him that he didn’t believe in God and even if he had, he’d rather go to Hell, the preacher started screaming obscenities about how he was going to expose the club for what it was, a den of iniquity and was going to get it closed down.

Then Stella came in and was up his ass about the angel dances again. He told her that when she brought in as much money as Steve and Chrissy did during those dances then he would listen to her.

“Mark my words, Eddie,” Stella hissed. “He’s going to be the ruin of the club and when it all comes crashing down, I’m going to still be here so I can tell you to your face, ‘I told you so’.”

Then she stormed out. Eddie followed her because he honestly thought she would start going on a rampage in the dressing room, tearing shit up.

Which meant he got a front row seat to Levi trying bully Steve. Not that it worked, Steve returned better than he got, but it was the fact that one of his people had tried. It wasn’t the first time Eddie heard the rumblings from the backup dancers about not getting a chance to audition for Envy and it probably wouldn’t the last. But he wasn’t going to let someone bully someone he had handpicked.

He walked up to the stage whistled long and loud. Steve was the last to stop and look at him, finishing the turn he was doing. He blushed when he realized everyone was waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I get wanting to complete a spin instead of abruptly stopping and risking a fall.”

Steve nodded, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on the back of his neck after the sting of Levi’s words still rang in his head.

“I’ve been getting and hearing a lot of complaints about how I run things lately,” Eddie began.

The assembled dancers began to shift uncomfortably. “Especially from the backup dancers about the auditions to replace Envy. You all think you’re better than Stevie here,” he continued. “So put your money where your mouth is. All eight of you will dance Billy’s version of the tease. And you don’t want to, you know where the fucking door is. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

There was a gasp and then deadly silence. “If any of you are as good as he is, I’ll concede the point and we’ll discuss the details after. But here’s the thing, my little demons. You aren’t as good as he is. He learned his dance in three days.”

There were some sharp grumbling at that but a single glare from Eddie silenced them again.

“Jeff, Brian, and Gareth will be the judges because clearly you don’t trust me and Chrissy’s judgment. They will score you on hitting all the moves. On style. And finally on how sexy it was. Then after you’ve all danced and I’m proven right, you’ll have two options,” he bit out, holding up two fingers. “Shut up and dance. Or get the fuck out of my club. Because I think you assholes forgot who’s name is on the deed. Not you. Not Wayne. Not anyone but me.”

The rest of the demons glared at the two main culprits: Levi and Danny. Levi sneered and Danny was nonplussed.

“Come on, Leviathan,” Eddie snarled back. “You think you’re such a big shot. Go on, prove it.”

Levi got into position to dance.

Chrissy hurried over to the music and turned on “Devil Inside”. Steve didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he could see why Billy was only as good as the pole he was dancing on. It was loud and outrageous but no technique or style. It was all sex and no substance.

When he was done Eddie called out all the other dancers. Choronzon, Belial, Beelzebub, Astraroth, Stolas, Mephistopheles, and then finally Dagon. Danny was a good dancer, particularly on the pole. But again, there was no style or substance to the tease.

When her dance ended, Steve raised his hand. “Can I try?”

All heads snapped his direction.

“What now?” Cheryl asked. “You dance it every Sunday.”

Steve shook his head. “What you guys just danced is not what I do on Sundays. Chrissy modified it on the fly because I’m not built the way Billy was.”

There was some murmuring but Chrissy confirmed he doesn’t do Billy’s dance. Parts of it, yes. But there was no way Steve could dance it well enough in time.

“But you just watched it,” Stella said. “There is no way you can do replicate that!”

Steve shrugged. “I watched it eight times. It has a lot of beats of what I do, but in a slightly different order. I should get a chance to do it. It’s my reputation on the line, isn’t it?”

No one could refute that so Steve got into position and everyone’s jaw dropped. Including Eddie and Chrissy. Steve started his dance on stool but Billy started front and center. And that’s where he stood.

Scott smirked as the music started. It was Chrissy and him who helped Steve nail it down in three days.

The difference was staggering. Eddie’s jaw remained on the floor for the duration of of the tease. As did almost everyone else’s. Only Stella and Scott were unmoved. Scott because he knew how good Steve was and Stella because she was being forced to eat crow.

The song ended and the room erupted in cheers and whistles. Steve lifted his head and winked.

Jeff threw his notes in the air behind him. “I don’t fucking need these. Steve’s was sexier, smoother, and nearly technically perfect.”

Gareth crossed his arms over his chest. “I agree. All of the backup dancers did the routine. But none of them were Envy.”

“I’m asexual and even I could tell Steve’s was sexier,” Brian said. “And it’s because he connected to his audience. Me, Gare, and Jeff. He played to us not at us.”

Eddie raised his arm to the stage. “Satan everyone!” He jutted his thumb behind him. “Take it or leave it!”

No one moved an inch. “Then shut up and dance!” He turned on his heel and stormed back to his office.

Chrissy clapped her hands. “All righty! Everyone back on the starting line!”

Everyone scrambled to get back into position. Chrissy and Scott shared a smirk as Levi and Danny stood a little straighter.

Point well and truly made.

~

Tag List: ONE SLOT OPEN

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

[sunshinemoonrx]

Okay so Skirts on Sentai Suits

Part of a tokusatsu 20 questions going around recently was "do you like skirts on sentai suits?" Here's the thing: Not all skirts were created equal.

(Preface to all this: I know I am going to be unruly suit-horny here so for the record, give them to the boys too. Obviously.)

Broadly there are four colour schemes:

Suit is all its primary colour, including skirt (e.g. Ryusoulger, Denjiman)

Suit body and skirt are primary colour, legs are secondary colour (black or white) (e.g. Gokaiger, Dairanger)

Suit body is primary colour, skirt and legs are secondary colour (e.g. Goseiger, Liveman)

Suit body and skirt are primary colour, legs on the non-skirted suits are also primary colour, but legs on this suit are a secondary colour--THIS IS THE HOT STUFF BABY LET ME EXPLAIN WHY

Okay so it's about "something hidden" or "something you're not supposed to see". If the skirt and legs are the same colour, it all registers as the same 'layer'. If you have a pink/blue/whatever skirt over black or white legs, that more suggests "clothing over body". However...

The non-skirted suits also have black legs, right? So clearly, that colour/layer is also "okay to see". Symbolically, that's black pants. (Of course, tokusatsu suits aren't only hot in imitating the human form. But we're talking about tight bodysuits in this post, not big sexy monsters, so follow me here.)

But if you've got a skirt over black/white legs, and the non-skirted suits have solid-colour legs...now that's a symbolically "lower" layer than the 'costume' shape.

So thank god for ninjas. See, in Hurricane the solid colour is the 'clothing', and the grey is 'beneath'; the shoulders of the sleeves emphasise this (contrasted with the Gouraigers' black pants, whereas even they have grey sleeves). In other words, that's a colour that has to be covered on certain body parts to be 'appropriate', like skin does. In Ninnin, solid colour is 'clothing' and black is 'beneath'--extra emphasised by the thigh-highs, which as I recently posted about, Jesus Fucking Hell.

Like, this is all an illusion. Obviously, the colour 'beneath' is just a bodysuit. ShiroNinger's black legs under there look exactly the same as, say, ShinkenRed's. And let's not forget, nice legs in a tight bodysuit are nice in and of themselves. But the concealment...the suggestion of something forbidden...the whole colour scheme lining up to reinforce this...(And well, Hurricane Blue does even have blue 'panties' under there...which again, if you took away the skirt would just make the blue a leotard-style shape like the Flashman etc. suits and not feel like underwear at all, but the fact that it's hidden and you get brief flashes...)

Interestingly, there's a third season that achieves this effect a different way--Jetman:

Now, all the suits here have secondary-colour legs--but uniquely in all of sentai, here the boys get a short-shorts/leotard/something shape, not too far off the girls in, say, Bioman. This means that at least for the lower body, white is an 'underlying' colour (or pink for White Swan, a common colour-scheme-swap for white rangers in a team with white as a secondary colour). So you do get the layered/"this colour has to be hidden above the thigh so it's intriguing" effect...sort of...the upper-body colour scheme confuses this and makes it hard to equate it to an outfit shape, as I also recently posted about. (And ofc, imitating an outfit is not the only objective of a sentai suit--the Jetman suits look great!)

Potentially post 1/3 if I can be bothered to post the other two. Yes there is more to say about this. Yes you will get my opinion on every single team in the third one if I do. Yes there is something wrong with me

[daenerysaizie]

𐔌 . ⋮ REALM’S DELIGHT .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

MK1 x Targaryen!Reader

Note:

Game of Thrones concept included in MK 1. Even though, Game of Thrones is kanonically a show in the MK world (shown in the DLC), in this fanfic it’s not lol. Also, I will be changing plots and details for the both. Will get confusing as I’m not an experienced writer and yes :3 OH! You’re also basically Daenarys, sharing the look of classic Valyrian (only hair and eye color) and characteristics. If you don’t know anything about Game of Thrones, don’t worry I will explain it in the fic? But do realize it’s heavily rewritten so it’s not the same as the kanon one. Heavily inspired by “Kombat Hearts” by @ilykirara and “New Era” by @atlasofthestaars . I love this two fics so so much<3 female reader? But read however you like.

Chapter 1 — The beginning

All that was left of the mighty House Targaryen, was you.

You never fully knew about your family's history or the weight your name carried. Yet, you knew very few things. First, you have brothers, though their fate and whereabouts in this vast world are unknown to you. Second, your appearance sets you apart from others - unmistakably Valyrian with striking violet eyes and silver hair. These distinctive features easily made you other worldly, compelling you to dye your hair black and explain away your captivating eye color as a genetic defect. Third, you have one recurring dream. It depicts the demise of your family(your father to be exact), even though you weren't there in person to witness it. Fourth, it is nearly impossible for you to return home. Westeros (your birth continent) and Essos are hidden and barricaded from the rest of the world by some kind of magic. Above all, you are strictly forbidden from uttering your family name: Targaryen.

It was early in the morning, 5 AM to be exact, as you sat on your bed staring at the golden crown in your hands. It was the last thing you had that represented your family's existence and was evidence of your royal heritage. The crown had a large sigil of a three-headed dragon at its center, while seven smaller gems of different colors decorated the rest. You had the same dream again. At this point, you could recall every detail.

"BURN THEM ALL! BURN THEM ALL!" A hoarse, old voice boomed through the room. An old man with a long white beard and crazed eyes yelled, ordering his pyromancers (who used some kind of chemicals to start major fires) while he sat on the Iron Throne, a seat made from thousands of swords. The pyromancers hesitated. It was your father who sat on the throne, though you don't remember him being this crazed and paranoid. He continued to yell until one of his guards, a golden-haired man, drew his sword, stabbed him in the back, and slit his throat. The golden-haired guard watched your crazed father bleed to death as he sat on his throne, yet your father still whispered the same thing as he bled on the floor: "Burn them all."

You ponder if the dream was a real event or not. After all, you were never there to witness this event, and you were extremely young when you fled from home. Plus, the crown you had in your hands did not match your father's crown, the one he was wearing in the dream. What if it was a cruel joke your mind played?

"No use thinking about it," you whisper to yourself as you put away the crown into your nightstand's drawer. With one swift move, you get up to get ready for the day. After all, you had so much to do. You start your morning routine and change from your nightgown into more proper clothes for the day.

You lived with Madam Bo. She had taken you under her care since you were 10 years old. She taught you everything you needed to know, from tough love to combat. You remember the moment she brought you to Fengjian as clear as day. The night was as silent as death when she brought you to this quaint village. Her horse's gallops echoed through the stillness, bringing little bit of life to the sleeping village. She had you firmly seated in front of her on her horse, your hair skillfully concealed beneath her deep purple scarf. Madam Bo took great care to inform you of the local norms and the dos and the don’ts. She explained that your unique features, which were considered royal in Westeros and the Essos, would seem different and will be only met with curiosity.

Later on, you would come to realize that Westeros and Essos were left behind when it came to technological and societal advancement. While the rest of the world was progressing into an advanced society, Westeros and Essos remained firmly stuck in the 'Medieval era.' However, these two continents still held onto their magical traditions, something that the modern society had long since abandoned.

Through Madam Bo, you were able to meet Kung Lao and Raiden. "Thick-skulled boys," she would call them. Growing up, the three of you sparred, trained, and played together. Being homeschooled, Raiden and Kung Lao were diligent in ensuring that you didn't miss out on any fun experiences. After grueling training sessions, the males took turns to take you out for treats. In return, you helped them with various tasks around the farm. This included harvesting the freshly grown vegetables, a labor of gratitude from you. They were also vigilant in ensuring that no boys with ‘ill intentions’ ever bothered you with courting or whatever. Whenever you insisted you could handle yourself, they would respond with a confident "I know," followed by a statement that they knew even better because they were males. In retort, you would often ask, "In that case, should I be cautious of you two as well?" to which they would simply shut down.

Originally, you stayed with the Lin Kuei when you fled from home. The Lin Kuei's former Grandmaster knew your father personally. How? You didn't know. All you knew was that the Grandmaster was kind enough to lend a hand to your father and save his only daughter. "Do you know why you are here, little dragon?" He bent down to your 5-year-old toddler body. You gripped the golden crown to your chest. You had promised your second older brother, Aemond, to keep the crown safe until you returned home. "Home is dangerous." you replied as you looked at the Grandmaster. He had the face of a strict man, but deep in his eyes, you could see honor and kindness burn. He hummed as he nodded, "You will be safe here." he told you as he put his hand on your head. And you were, for 5 years.

Obviously, being in the clan, you were destined to meet the three sons he had. You became close to the youngest one, Tomas. He bore almost the same burdens as you and understood your pains and discomfort. Eventually, you got close to Kuai Liang too. He took care of you and guarded you away from the clan's considerably cruel side. However, as for Bi-Han, you never got the chance to get close. He was heir to his clan, making him busier than his brothers. To your memory, he was cold and strict, stricter than his father. The only vivid memory you have of him is him asking you how your hair and eye color were so... different. You could not give him an answer that satisfied his curiosity.

As you got older, you had to leave. According to the Grandmaster, the clan was not made for you; you were meant to live a life that was peaceful, not a life to become a skilled warrior. Thus, Madam Bo took you to the village where she resided. You would keep contact in with the Lin Kuei brothers through letters. Though, the last letter you got from was a year ago now.

—

The day went by rather quickly. From getting fresh vegetables and produce early in the morning to serving customers until closing time, the day went smoothly. Almost too smoothly. You sigh and hum as you watch your two friends put away food like vacuums, with Kung Lao doing most of the work as usual. It was amusing - how did his stomach not burst? It was superhuman, you swore. Soon, you saw Madam Bo approach the two with a massive bill in her hand. Poor Raiden and his wallet.

Despite closing hours arriving, a few drunken uncles from the village stayed behind. One made a mess on the bottom floor, which you had to clean up. You mopped the floor as the drunken man apologized. "Ahhhh, I'm sorry! Here, here, have this," he slurred his words as he handed you an unopened bottle of beer. You shook your head and refused his token of apology. You chuckled inwardly as you washed away the mess from the floor.

Suddenly, Madam Bo came down to the bottom floor and crashed into the table, breaking it. She was unconscious. "Madam Bo?!" you exclaimed in horror. The drunken uncles behind you seemed to sober up and stare. You looked up to see the culprit with wide eyes.

The man with very familiar hair jumped down to the floor, landing next to Madam Bo's unconscious body. He wore mask that covered his face. Your chest tightened as fear clouded your mind for her. You tried running towards her as the previously drunken guy, now sober from the shock, grabbed your wrist. "Are you crazy!? He's going to kill you!" he whispered as he tugged you, preparing to run. "Go" you whispered back to him. The once-drunken guy thought for a moment and let your wrist go when he saw your determined face. He dashed out of the place with a few other people. You still gripped the mop in your hand as the man approached you. He had grey hair that reminded you of Tomas from your childhood. Was it truly him? You hadn't seen the man for years!

"Surrender to the Lin Kuei! Or end up like her," he replied as he prepared his karambit, aiming it at you. It is him! Is this what the Lin Kuei does now? you thought anxiously. "I thought the Lin Kuei protected people from harm. I never thought you would stoop this low," you spoke calmly, with a hidden wobble in your voice. How could your childhood friend do this?

Kung Lao and Raiden shout your name from the floor above after taking out the other members of the clan. They try to go down to help you, but Bi-Han and Kuai Liang stop them in their tracks. "You interfere with Lin Kuei business. Leave, or face our wrath!" Bi-Han warns as he dramatically stands on the rooftop. Kuai Liang approaches the two with his weapon from behind, swinging it in the air. "Abandon Madam Bo and her? Not happening," Kung Lao replies. After his reply, Bi-Han launches himself at Raiden while Kuai Liang grabs Kung Lao, pulling him towards himself as he yells ferociously, "Get over here!"

Tomas slowly approaches you with his karambit, closing the distance between you two, as if he were a hunter and you were his prey. You contemplate your actions as you grip the mop tighter until your knuckles turn white. When the gap closes, he swings his karambit at you. You dodge his attack and use the tip of the mop to strike his stomach multiple times before hitting him hard on the head with the mop's end. He falls down. "No, it can't be that easy," you think to yourself as you look at his ‘unconscious’ body. Emotions surge through you the more you look at him, unsure how to feel, but you take the result for granted, leaving the mop near his head and running towards Madam Bo.

The noises around you seem to blur as you barely breathe. You gently turn her body to see her, and your hands shakily brush her face to sweep away the strands of her hair. "Madam Bo?" you whisper with great worry and fear. Soon enough, Kung Lao and Raiden come running down to you. They ask about your condition first before turning to Madam Bo. "Oh no. Is she—" Kung Lao is cut off when Madam Bo suddenly opens her eyes and looks at you three. "Dead? Not yet." You three can hear the playfulness in her voice as she stands up. You and Raiden are quick to help her, but she brushes away your hands as she swiftly lights up her cigarette. "Madam Bo, how are you—" Kung Lao gets interrupted again. Raiden points at the stairs, "Guys!"

"So, Madam Bo, are they ready?" A man comes down as he takes his hood off, revealing his glowing eyes and chiseled face that bears a small, proud smile. You notice it's the same man who caught your attention earlier today. Madam Bo was fondly standing at his table as she served him tea. You anxiously fidget with the ring on your middle finger. Raiden notices your fidgeting and gently takes your hand, holding it firmly with care.

Madam Bo stands in front as if to present you three. "These two are a bit thick in the head, perhaps... But they are ready," she says, referring to Raiden and Kung Lao. "However, I did not think my child would be included in the exam," she chuckles as she glances at you.

"His eyes are glowing," Raiden blurts out to Kung Lao, who is on his right side with you on his left, still holding your hand.

"I am Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire and Protector of Earthrealm," the man with glowing eyes introduces himself as he connects his hands together and folds his arms. In response, you gently let go of Raiden's hand to bow to the god. "God? Earthrealm?" Kung Lao asks with curiosity as Raiden observes the god, silently mourning the loss of contact with your hand.

"Madam Bo has been preparing you for this moment since you were boys. Today you have proven worthy of joining my champions," he explains further.

"This fight was a test?" Raiden asks. The god smiles and nods, "Of your ability and character, yes. Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas," he calls out to the Lin Kuei members. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang come down the stairs while Tomas, who was already on the same floor, stands up and positions himself behind the god.

"So these three aren't thugs?" Kung Lao asks suspiciously, eyeing them. You can only send an apologetic look to Tomas, who returns it with soft eyes.

"The Lin Kuei is a centuries-old clan dedicated to Earthrealm's defense," the god explains.

"You keep saying Earthrealm. Don't you mean Earth?" Raiden asks, confused. Madam Bo chuckles as you smile. You already possessed a little information of this topic. "You boys have so much to learn," she says.

"Earth is only part of Earthrealm. Earthrealm itself is one of many realms. Together they comprise the whole of the universe," the god explains, gesturing with his hands. "The realms can be fierce, bitter rivals. That's why we need champions to defend ours," Madam Bo adds. "The time draws near for the grand martial arts tournament between Earthrealm and the realm of Outworld. Held once each century, it allows each realm to demonstrate its strength. While our realms are at peace, there are Outworlders who would prefer us to be at war. Our victory in the tournament will... temper their zeal," the god concludes.

Madam Bo turns to the boys and partially to you, "I've taught you everything I can. You must finish your training with Lord Liu Kang," she informs them.

"More training? These three couldn't defeat us," Kung Lao asks skeptically. At his remark, Bi-Han scoffs audibly, which makes Madam Bo chuckle along with him.

"They were pulling their punches," she explains. You nod at her words as you remember the Lin Kuei being so formidable and strong. "Had we not held back, you would not have survived," Bi-Han says proudly and threateningly, stepping forward slightly. Lord Liu Kang blocks his way and interrupts him. "Come. The monks at the Wu Shi Academy await to continue your tutelage." The god offers the choice, which Kung Lao accepts without hesitation.

"And you, Raiden?" the god asks. Raiden hesitates, "Leave Fengjian? I'm needed here," he replies. Madam Bo steps in, "Earthrealm needs you, Raiden. You'll best serve the village by being one of its champions," she assures him. After considering for a moment, Raiden agrees to the god's offer with a simple "I understand."

"How about you? You have proven yourself to be worthy as well," the god turns to you as he utters your name. You, who had been silent the whole time, gape at his question. You point towards yourself, "Me?" you ask, to confirm. Madam Bo chuckles. "Come on! You heard the god. The three of us could train together like we always did!" Kung Lao says as he steps forward towards you as Raiden nods in agreement. You were unsure. "But I do not fight well and I cannot leave Madam Bo." you answer bluntly. At your words, Madam Bo chuckles as she pushes you towards the god by your waist. "Forgive me, Lord Liu Kang. As you can see, she is timid, obedient, and so humble. But she has the spirit of the dragon." she says. The god and everyone else only looks at you and awaits your answer. You sigh and nod, which earns a proud smile from Madam Bo.

"Excellent. I will join you soon. First, there are other champions I must gather," the god says.

—

Lord Liu Kang departed the tea house to gather his other champions with Kung Lao and Raiden shortly after him, to prepare for the Wu Shi academy.

The Lin Kuei stayed behind to clean up the aftermath of their physical test, during which you exchanged subtle glances with them. It had been over a decade since you last saw them, and they had transformed from boys into men, now towering above you easily. Their faces had become more defined and chiseled, contrasting the young boys you remembered.

“You dyed your hair.” Tomas remarks as he approaches you. You were setting the chairs upside down on the table to sweep any debris or broken objects. “Ah, I had to” you return his greeting with a warm smile and stand up straight. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled with the unspoken words and nostalgia.

“You and your brothers haven’t written for a year now. Why?” You ask with curiosity. As you ask about the lack of communication from the brothers, Tomas chuckles softly and explains, “Many more new initiates. How about you? You haven’t written to us as well,” He then turns it back on you, wondering why you haven't written either. You answer in a soft voice, your smile revealing a hint of melancholy. "Life hasn't changed much for me," you reply. "I didn't want to bother you or your brother."

Tomas can only hum in response and before you could speak. “We will leave” Bi-Han commands, followed by Kuai Liang, as he walks up to you and Tomas. You immediately bow to them in greeting, and Bi-Han responds with a nod. Kuai Liang, on the other hand, returns your greeting with a slight bow.

"It was lovely seeing you three again," you say, your smile lighting up the conversation. "I hope we'll meet more in the future." There was happiness in your voice as you express this sentiment, despite the awkwardness, it was still refreshing to be in their presence. Kuai Liang responds with a simple, but sincere "I agree." Bi-Han quickly guides his brothers and the members of the clan out of the tea house, after finish repairing.

As the repair work on the tea house concludes, you realize that the only task left is the chore of cleaning. With a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the tedious process of scrubbing and tidying up, accepting the fact that it's part of your responsibilities. Madam Bo helped you, as always.

[nevermorgue]

The thick, red curtains of stained velvet open. The applause slowly dies down into a murmur of the last echoing claps of gloved hands. A man and a woman stand on stage. One stage left, one stage right. They stare straight ahead, unblinking. Unfeeling? Is that true? Is that what they want you to think? The woman with the blonde ringlet curls cascading down her back is adorned in blue. Her gown touches the stage floor, various ribbons in blue shades wrapping around her form. For a moment, if you look with unfocused eyes, it looks to be a complicated dress with lace and pretty knots- but it becomes clear soon. She is tied up- tangled in these ribbons. They wrap around her thick curls, they wrap around her arms in even, perfect lines. If they were red, one in the back of the room could mistake her as the victim of a slashing. The bows are pristine, resting on various parts of her to accentuate her status as a gift. A gift to who? Society? Her father? The top shelf? She breathes heavy, but slow. Despite the sweat beading down her forehead, she has a calm smile. An ethereal, regal look in her posture and a confident aura that any actress under the lights would have, tied up or not. It seems as if she doesn't notice that she's restricted by the ribbons. In fact, she seems to relish in it. The crowd watches in silent awe, admiring the woman's beauty and drinking in the sight of dusty pink eyes under the stage lighting. Only a select few can see the slight fidget in her fingers, the tiniest quiver in her lip. Or the way her arms just barely push against her restraints, even if she wants it to appear that she is comfortable with them. She acts as if the ribbons are a part of her, an extension of her skin. Any less would be an eyesore. Any less would be detrimental to the game. The man on stage is quite the opposite in terms of charisma. He seems unsure of his presence, his feet awkwardly shifting in place as he struggles to figure out where to look in the crowd. On stage, the audience is so dark...where does he keep his eyes? Shouldn't he keep his gaze moving to make sure one specific part of the room isn't forced to make eye contact with him? He is undressed compared to the woman. A simple cardigan vest over a white collared shirt, slacks...well, it looks to be that way. His body is wrapped up in so many heavy, black ribbons that it seems impossible to tell. They weren’t delicately wrapped around him, the ribbons were not there to make him look perfect or desirable like his counterpart; but to simply keep in line. A man that poses no threat being restrained and chained back like a beast. Because without disclipine, not a single soul knows what he could become. Not even he knows what he is.

The black, jagged ribbons dig into his clothing, wrapping around his neck. His breathing is short, as if afraid to be too loud. His smile is shaky, wary. Dull grey eyes glance to the confident woman to his right, standing up a bit straighter as he watches her body language.

The audience rises from silence, the murmurs in the chairs growing into an incoherent jumble of panic. Voices beg, weep, or yell with anger. The stage seems to fade around their feet, leaving them in their dinner chairs in the dining hall, surrounded by panicking students.

Annabel Lee, still so delicately wrapped, takes a sip of her tea. Her peers continue to panic- one life they cry. What do you mean there was only one life? That isn’t fair.

Will’s collar is wrinkled, grabbed in the heat of the moment by his master before being abandoned. His wrists cling to the arms of the chair, the black ribbons pressing his pulse into the wood. His heart thumbs against his chest, but he cannot control the casual, polite smile that forms on his lips as he watches Annabel’s mouth do the same.

Would she ever dare to share the spotlight? No, not with him. She’d be out the door before the curtain call; anything to avoid confronting the fact that this is all part of the script.

But for a moment, amidst the screams and desperate pleas for more than one life to be given, he felt as if he too were on that stage. On her level, but not quite…just enough to be looked at.

Dark pink swallows cloudy grey. They share a knowing glance, and then another smile.

Will takes a sip of water, Annabel her tea.

He’s terrified, but his ribbons keep his body from panicking. Their comforting, constricting tendrils reddening his skin.

She’s concerned, but her bows keep her from spiraling- from becoming unsightly. From losing the power she cannot bear to part from- not this early.

The many voices in the room start to sound like applause once more.

[homijak]

So like, I noticed Pre!Corrupted Shadow Milk and Shadow Milk Cookie, his hair changed, and I found this out:

Thing is, I thought the reason why Shadow Milk's hair is short was because he was bored in the tree and decided to cut his bangs out of boredom lol

I want to talk to you about some details in my artworks that, at first glance, seem to make no sense, but they actually do.

Warning: please treat my artworks and lore as something like an original or AU, because they are only loosely connected to canon.

I’m really happy that someone asked why Light Milk had long hair, while Shadow Milk ended up with short hair. I’ll repeat myself, Milk is rejecting his past, he is rejecting "Light Milk." And he’s starting a new chapter in his life as "Shadow Milk." And it’s not as cheerful as you might think, but I’ll talk about that another time.

The second detail, which doesn’t really stand out, is the clothing of the characters throughout the comic. Light Milk was in a completely white nightgown, while Shadow Milk wore a dark dress with blue accents. Is there a hidden meaning here too? Yes! It’s fairly obvious — Milk moved from the light side to the dark, blah, blah, blah…

But wait… Elder Faerie was in dark clothing, and at the end, in light…

Something doesn’t add up, right? Or do you think I just decided to highlight them with contrast so they wouldn’t blend into the same picture?

No, the meaning here is that Light Milk, being in a white nightgown, eventually shifts to the dark side. And when he's in black, he's already on the side of good. And the blue contrast is just a small reference to his eye with the mark.

At the beginning, Elder is in black, and from the start, he was for the light and goodness. But at the end, he’s in white. That’s because Elder Faerie brought back his beloved, and while in canon, he fought until the end for peace, for the kingdom, and gave his life, remaining a hero… Here, Elder Faerie sacrifices the ENTIRE world to save the person he loves. Elder Faerie becomes a villain.

I think you’ve heard the words: "A hero will sacrifice one to save the world. A villain will sacrifice the whole world to save one."

By the way, I mentioned Milk's eyes… But I’ll talk about that some other time. I’ll just say one thing.

Light Milk’s eyes both glow. Shadow Milk can only have one eye glowing.

I strongly recommend looking for details in my artworks, even if they seem absent at first glance)

[niceutossu]

Misconceptions | Osamu x Reader

-Osamu lives in the same area as you

-he has seen you look so CEO-ish early in the morning and he’s convinced you’re some super important business person

-he’s developed an innocent crush since you both always get coffee at the same convenience store, at the same exact time

-you were very punctual and so was he (it was good motivation to see your sweet face)

-when you would leave you would always turn left and he would right and that was that

-it’s nice to see you smile while holding the door open for him or when he does the same for you and he gets to hear your soft voice say ‘thank you’

-beyond that, he’s never talked to you, he feels like you’re from two completely different worlds so he’s content leaving things as they are

-one night, his usual delivery boy has only one order left but unbeknownst to Osamu, he’s also been on the verge of hurling his entire shift and throws up right before he can complete it

-Osamu sends him home because he refuses to not follow food safety guidelines (plus he also feels a little bad he was unaware that his employee had pushed himself so hard)

-since it was also for someone who lived in the same building as him, he really didn’t mind being the one to drop off this last order

-while packing up to leave his employee makes a cheeky remark, something along the lines of “Thanks for doing this, though we’ll be even after you see the babe it’s for.”

-Which Osamu completely disregards because there were a lot of beautiful women living at his complex (as once commented by Atsumu) so he wasn’t really all that excited about the prospect

-he was tired and he just wanted to go home and get enough sleep before he had to rush out the door in the morning to catch a glimpse of your face

-when he finds the apartment, two floors above his, he knocks and is getting ready to leave when the door swings open and he looks up to find you looking back at him

-except you don’t look anything like how you usually do

-you weren’t wearing your black blazer and matching skirt, both of which were clearly ironed with lots of care

-the white lace of the crisp white blouse you normally wore wasn’t peeking through the collar of your jacket, and your hair wasn’t pulled back into the neat half updo he had grown a bit fond of (how could you pull off something so simple so well?)

-instead, your hair was down and damp, your shirt wrinkled, and you were wearing athletic shorts so oversized they almost reached past your knees

-the smell of shampoo meant you weren’t wearing any make-up but you looked the same to him, the only real difference was the glasses perched on your nose

-he couldn’t tell if they were real or blue light but he didn’t care, you looked good

-you looked so good like this, so cute

-he had always thought you were attractive in a mature way, radiating confidence that made head turns everywhere you went

-your tight clothes did you justice, and your ‘I have my shit together’ attitude was undeniably magnetic 

-but the way you looked now, so small and tired, clearly irritated from hunger but ready for bed was what made the little crush he had on you turn into a full-blown ‘like’

-Osamu liked seeing you like this, maybe even more than he did seeing you be a professional

-before he could continue to gawk any longer you took the food from his hands and stared at him for a moment, squinting your eyes before widening them in some sort of horrible realization

-“Wha- where’s the usual guy?” You asked, blushing in a way that had Osamu feeling a mix of confused and a little bit annoyed

-“You got the food…so does it matter?” Even if you were cute, he wasn’t about to pour his feelings out to someone who was still a complete stranger, and currently, a seemingly unsatisfied customer

-you scrunched your nose at his response, huffing slightly and seemingly contemplating for a moment before speaking again

-“do..do you not recognize me?” You asked hopefully, eyes looking up at him past the glasses and making his heart twirl as he held back the smile that tugged at his lips

-“Convenience store.” He replied, keeping it short but only because he couldn’t handle the implications of the entire interaction

-did you also think of him beyond just seeing him once in the morning?

-your eyes lit up at the acknowledgment before offering him a smile he hadn’t seen before, one that was more carefree now that it was just you two alone and in private 

-“I had no idea you worked here.” You spoke, pointing your hand towards the bag of food he was still holding while offering him friendly conversation

-“And I had no idea you were a customer.” Osamu said while handing you the bag, deciding to use the chance to show off a bit and maybe even get you to come visit in person

-“How long have you been working there?” You questioned, eyes glazed with genuine curiosity that made his heart curl

-“Well, I kinda own it so, since I opened it?” He replied, feeling nervous and now stupid for the way he had explained himself. There goes his opportunity to show off

-despite his awkwardness, you laughed at his stupid joke and he felt himself bubble with pride, he needed to hear more of that

-he suddenly thought back to what his employee had said about you being a ‘babe’ and felt himself get annoyed, he’d definitely have to convince you to start coming in person

-“you’re funny and the owner of your own business? Man, you’re doing way better than I am.” You admitted, the nervous atmosphere settling into a more comfortable one

-at your words Osamu frowned, were you not some up and coming CEO yourself?

-you looked at him, confused as Osamu suddenly realized he had asked that out-loud

-you both stared at each other as a couple beats of silence passed before you suddenly broke out into laughter again like he had just said the funniest thing in the world 

-he should’ve been more annoyed given that you were practically laughing in his face but he was intrigued more than anything else 

-“CEO would be awesome but I’m nothing more than an intern at the moment.” You admitted after calming down, still letting out a few giggles as your cheeks were now flushed from having laughed so hard

-Osamu thought you couldn’t look more perfect than you do now, face rosy from something he said and pretty eyes focused solely on him 

-so you weren’t some fancy CEO, that was a relief but he also knew somehow in his gut you wouldn’t stay an intern for long

-he didn’t know a lot about you past admiring you for always being on top of it and on time, unknowingly inspiring him to do the same

-but now he wanted to get to know you more than anything, to see you become the boss you were clearly meant to 

-“well, just know when the time comes you’re already the perfect, pretty picture of a CEO.” Osamu complimented, somehow confident in your abilities despite your status as strangers

-at his compliment your blush deepened, the sweet tone and sincerity in his words causing a rosy red to stick to your cheeks

-the word pretty rang out in your mind as you unconsciously went to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear, something that made Osamu’s lips finally twitch into a smile

-to know and see that he had an any sort affect on you, like you had on him all these months made it hard to hide the giddiness he felt

-he really had to get to know you, he had been so wrong about you this entire time and he needed to get it right, to get to know you fully 

-“Jeez, you’re not supposed to flirt with customers y’know?” You joke, voice light as you poke at his chest playfully 

-your eyebrows raise ever so slightly as you feel all the muscle underneath the simple black t-shirt and you give him a shy glance 

-“I promise I’ll try and come by in-person. But only if you promise me one thing in return.” You speak, finger unmoving from his chest as your eyes remained fixated on his own

-he swallowed thickly before responding with a small ‘hm?’

-“Same time tomorrow?” You asked, referring to your daily morning routine

-Osamu felt himself almost soar at those words, he’d see you practically every day but this time- this time you’d both know that you’re each looking for one another  

-“you know I’ll be there.” 

[kaybreezy3000]

that new head Cannon story was so good. Will you do something of a bigger scene of him in the apocalypse suffering or something like with him not okay and hitting like a mental break down and someone needs to help him. Family or whatever makes sense? Your broken season 4 five is amazing./ But anything you want to do would be appreciated

Please Hold me

~A one-shot reader request, rated General, 5780 words, This one for the sake of being different is Season 3 Five and his family, Mega Whump with no warnings other than panic attacks and traumatic flashbacks of the apocalypse

Summary: Set at the beginning of season 3, the pain that had been inflicted on Five mentally and physically up until this point comes to a head. Little did Five know, when the truth comes out and he finally breaks, he is going to get the love and support he was dying for all along.

(~Anon: Thank you for reading my last headcanon s4 story. I am so happy you liked it. I have written so many things with Five dealing with the demons we saw him fighting on the show. I never felt like they gave him his due on screen with that stuff, and then worse, he and his family never came to terms with any of it. It all just got swept under the rug for all of them, so here you go. Here's a little story that hopefully gives you what you were looking for in this request)

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Standing in the lobby of the hotel Obsidian, as Five slowly passed him, looking even more out of it and mad than he did in the park right after they got their asses handed to them by the Sparrows, confused, Luther asked, “Where are you going?”

“I am going to get a lay of the land,” Five mumbled, then without another word, he made his way down the hall behind them, intent on looking for a bathroom. He didn’t feel like he was going to vomit anymore, but at least knowing where he could seemed like a good idea.

Five found his objective not long later. There was a small, very out of date public restroom just off the main foyer. Oddly, it was dark inside as he opened the door. Feeling around for a light switch, he quickly found one, and then just as fast, the brightness was painfully burning his blood shot eyes.

Moving on autopilot, Five used the toilet then found himself standing in front of the mirror, mindlessly washing his hands. When he looked up, he was taken aback.

His young face was a mess of dirty smudges and dried blood. There wasn’t an ounce of color to his skin. His clothes weren’t much better. Looking down, he saw that he was covered in grimy patches of dirt and who knew what else from the floor of Sissy’s barn. Without thinking, he tugged at his shirt, untucking it so he could pull it and his vest up.

His eyes traveled over the maze of purple and black bruises that covered nearly every square inch of his chest and torso. His fingers slowly moved over the darkest areas. There were three, and they happened to be exactly where the bullets had been after The Handler shot at him.

Five winced from the pain as he touched. His labored breathing started to get worse. He was starting to panic. The floor was swaying. His hands frantically grasped for the counter to prevent him from falling.

‘Breathe…just breathe,’ he mentally ordered himself, forcing his eyes to focus on the black and white tiled pattern on the floor.

“You can’t break. Not like this,” he panted as his insides rolled with sickness.

His head spun, but somehow, Five managed to stand up straight again, tucking his dress shirt back in his schoolboy shorts in a somewhat respectable way. 

On the way back from the bathroom, he could hear Diego talking to the rest of his family as he sluggishly moved past the reception desk, heading back to the lounge area in the main lobby.

“Apocalypse avoided or not this time. Do you guys really think we should trust Five’s take on all this timeline stuff?” Diego asked.

Realizing they were talking about him, Five slowed his zombie-like pace even more.

“After all these years alone and then the messed-up shit he did after that for the Commission, I am pretty sure it’s safe to say Five is a little out there when it comes to his way of thinking,” Diego continued. “I’m not sure if you guys noticed, but he is not exactly what you’d call stable. Did you see his little moment back there at the Sparrow’s evil lair? I had a hallucination incident too after I got goobered on, but mine was at least awesome and if it had been real, it would have been great way to solve our differences with those assholes. Five was in la-la land.”

“Ah-huh… Dance offs are very realistic when trying to stake a claim on lives that are no longer yours,” Allison laughed while looking over at Viktor sitting next to her, who smiled tensely, clearly not doing so great either.

“You have a point,” Klaus said, deciding to chime in since no one else was. Rubbing his chin, his lips pulled to the side. “Our little old guy got all sorts of freaky with his imaginary girlfriend back there. Five’s Dolores thing is just…” He frowned. “I don’t think you can just come back from that kind of thing; he's so attached. Five may be on another level when it comes to brains, but that stuff…” He shook his head. “It did something to him. Bad stuff, like very very bad stuff that ruins you,” he finished, just as Five came back into the room.

Allison’s eyes shot Five’s way, but that didn’t stop Klaus.

Thinking their worried expressions meant that they didn’t understand what he was say, he kept going. “I’m just saying, I don't know about what's going on inside Five’s head or not, but I do know he was totally shaking the sheets with his plastic woman," Klaus laughed. "I mean, who can blame him, really, after all he went through. She’s hot and she doesn’t talk back and Five likes that. And we all know that he still considers Dolores a big part of his life whether she's here with him, or not. And even worse, who knows if Five ever got laid like for real real while he was with the Commission. He has no idea what it's like to have intimacy like that, not in a way that's real anyway. Just look at him now and his cute face always bent out of shape with rage. He’s a ticking time bomb of teenage hormonal insanity.”

Klaus pointed to small boutique across the grand lobby from where they were sitting.

“Someone should probably go tell them to hide their mannequins. We have a horny little monster on the loose,” he giggled, but then, realizing nobody else was laughing with him, he followed Allison’s wide-eyed line of sight straight towards Five.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Five,” Klaus tried but Five was already turning. “Why didn’t anyone say he was right there?” he asked, looking at the stunned faces glaring back at him. “Five, wait!” Klaus tried again, but all he got was Five lifting his middle finger as he rushed down the hall he’d just come from.

Once out of sight, Five staggered, tripping over his own feet, frantically trying to get away from them. His head was pounding so hard he couldn’t think.

Falling into the elevator, he slumped against the wall, punching the floor with his room number on it.

Rushing to beat him, Klaus took off, sprinting up the stairway to the second floor. Racing down the maze of halls, he reached Five’s room a minute later, just as he was trying but failing to get his key in the door.

Suddenly, eyes rolling back in his head, Five started to fall. Klaus quickly reached out to balance him. “Whoa there,” he gasped, finally feeling just how small and vulnerable he was and that only made him feel worse about everything he’d just said about him.

Five was not the boy they all saw, but it was hard to remember that when the tormented eyes looking back at them were that of the little angry kid they’d lost so long ago.

Five blankly stared at Klaus, trying to focus, but his eyes wouldn’t cooperate. Klaus took the dangling keys from his finger, opening the door for him so he could help him across the small room. As soon as Five was next to the bunk beds, he slipped sideways onto the lower bunk, crashing into the musty bedding.

“Just stay down man, I’ll be right back,” Klaus ordered.

Five whimpered.

Klaus appeared a few minutes later, skidding around the door frame with a bottle of water and some crackers in hand.

He carefully sat down next to Five on the small mattress, his dark eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Are you bleeding internally or something else awful and not telling us again? Because you don’t look so good, little buddy.”

“No. I’m just sick of all this bullshit," Five snapped, but his normal bite had no bark. "It never stops, and I’m just fucking tired. And don’t call me little buddy ever again unless you want me to strangle you.”

“Okaaay,” Klaus skeptically replied. “Will you eat something?” he asked, offering Five the pile of crackers in his hand. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you eat anything.

Hearing the worry in his voice, Five weakly reached out and took one cracker, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat it. He was too sick to do anything anymore. His body was shuddering and even just the mentioning of food was bringing back memories of burning human flesh and it was leaving a sickening taste of bitterness on his tongue to add to sour taste of failure that was already there.

Five’s revulsion and anger didn’t help the concerned look on Klaus’s face from growing.

“Five, I didn’t mean that stuff I was saying. You know me, I have a big mouth.”

“I know,” Five muttered. He knew Klaus meant it, because it was all true. Klaus just didn’t mean for him to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus begged.

When Five didn’t say anything, Klaus set the water down on the rickety nightstand.

Wordlessly, he rolled back the bedding and urged Five to roll under it. When he noticed the gun stuffed down the back of Five’s little shorts, Klaus took that too, placing it on the bedside table.

Five didn't have the strength to fight him. Instead, he desperately bundled up under the comforter. Laying there, falling apart as he listened to Klaus get up, a moment later, he felt the bed frame wiggle, then more blankets from the upper bunk fell over him.

“Just try to get some rest, man.” With that, Klaus shut the dingy curtains, blocking out the light and the noise of the city, then the door clicked shut.

Alone and glad not to have his brother looking at him still like he was a puppy that just got smoked by a car, unfortunately the pounding in Five’s head grew worse. When he closed his eyes, the room kept spinning like when he drank too much.

Klaus’s voice in the hall as he talked to who Five assumed was one of his siblings, eventually trailed off.

Five’s mind was as shattered and the phantom pains taking over his body had him to the point that he couldn’t fend off the exhaustion anymore. As the nightmare he was living mixed with the nightmares of his past and his heart sank even more, it hit him that his family didn’t need or want him anymore.

They never did.

With that thought in mind, everything slipped away in the darkness of his dreams.

The inside of his tiny hotel room, everything disappeared as Five lay there, finally at rest but not at all at peace.

Twisting in the blankets, Five’s sore and horribly split feet crunched along on a debris filled road in his boots that were a size too small.

The gloom of an apocalyptic horizon was all he could see for miles and miles.

His insides danced in a flurry of nerves, but there he was, almost certain there wasn’t a trace of fever this time. He hadn't eaten anything that had gone bad.

He didn't know.

He stood, facing yet another burnt building, flinching at the familiar sight of a charred body. His insides clenched from starvation even as the sight of it made him sicker.

That smell…

The smell of burnt flesh, and rot.

His mouth watered. Then he gagged.

He couldn’t…

Never that.

It had been more days than Five could count since he had put anything in his mouth that resembled food. The few canned goods he was able to find in the ruins of a grocery store months ago were long gone. If he was going to find anything salvageable, he was going to have to start digging deeper through the mountainous piles of rubble, but he had almost no strength to do it.

He was so weak. He could feel his own bones rubbing painfully against the tightly notched belt at his waist. He was starving to death, and the fear that he was never going to get out of that place was consuming him as much as his own body was consuming itself.

He felt the ground against his cheek before he even realized he had collapsed.

Then it all went dark.

When he woke, it was gloomier. The usual ominous red in the sky had grown slightly more prominent on the horizon, the only indicator that there was sun still at all. He gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position, trying to gather his bearings.

It was almost night.

His head hurt more than before. He raised his hand and fingers slowly, inspecting a patch of dried blood at his temple.

“Passed out. Again…” he said, his mouth so dry he could hardly form the words.

He took a deep breath, looking around. His wagon with his meager finds was still only a few feet away.

Dolores looked back at him kindly. ‘It’s not like I can move on my own silly,’ she said, sweetly as she could.

In his head, she sounded like Grace.

Just that alone helped, even if it was in the smallest way possible. Five would never forget the only mother he had and her caring for him when no one else did. Even if she wasn’t a real living thing and she had no choice and didn’t really love him because a robot couldn't love, at least Five could say he had something. Something awful but good?

With Dolores, she was trying to make light of their dire situation. For years, since she’d become something real to him, Dolores had always tried to make Five smile no matter how bad things were.

Wanting to reassure her, Five managed to pull off a weak version of a smile, but only because he knew she was so worried about him.

Pain digging at his insides, Five knew that if he didn't find food and water of some kind, there was little time left and his body would shut down completely. He needed to move, or he was going to die.

Drumming up all the strength he had left, Five staggered to his feet on wobbly, bone thin legs.

“I’ll be back,” he said to Dolores. There was no need to explain that he wasn’t strong enough to pull the wagon or carry her with him. She already knew.

He stumbled along, doing his best not to fall over the broken world in his path. There had to be something left. He was certain when he had come that way two days before, that at one time, this had been a bustling neighborhood, filled with large homes and massive stores. Now it looked pretty much like everything else, and he had yet to find anything.

He walked on. Eventually his eyes grew too tired to survey the landscape, and instead they fell to his feet, but he kept moving.

After walking like that for an undetermined amount of time, Five looked up and realized there was an indication of a partial structure still standing up ahead.

He moved as fast as he could towards it.

It had to have something!

As he moved closer, he could make out signs that it had been a store of some sort.

Oh my God thank you!

Scrambling over the broken walls, avoiding the deathly glass blades still sticking out of the rubble, Five came across what he needed. Canned food, not destroyed, or having exploded or leaked out on the parched earth.

He fell on his knees, immediately tearing through his pack, looking for an opener.

He didn't care what it was, the labels were burned and unreadable if they even had any. He attacked the metal, hardly getting it open before he was desperately sucking the liquid out.

After a minute or two of that, he had forethought to open the can all the way, but his patience wasn’t much better as he dumped the slippery substance down his throat, hardly even taking the time to chew.

It was mistake.

Five lurched forwards, his stomach seizing in pain as his prize splattered to the ground.

“Fuck.” He gasped for air, fighting the sensation of sickness as each wave racked his body.

It had been too long. He wasn’t used to eating that much at once.

“You can’t be so fucking stupid!” he angrily yelled, his voice echoing in the nothing around him.

Five knew he couldn’t afford these kinds of mistakes, yet he kept making them.

He slid back on his butt, moving along the dirt, away from his mess. He fell back against a large piece of cement, thankfully avoiding the sharp rebar sticking out of it. All it would take was one small infection from a cut and he would be gone. He was too weak already.

He looked up at the sky, fighting tears…tears and precious fluid he couldn’t afford to lose.

“Just breathe, breathe…in and out…” he repeated. Gritting his teeth, air moving through his nose much too fast.

He couldn’t stop. He was spiraling.

His mind screamed at him because he could no longer speak. There is no place for this here!

With a deep breath, and then another, the darkness folding in around him eventually withdrew. Five reached over and took the can again. Slowly this time, he pinched a piece of what looked like some type of fruit and brought it to his cracked lips. This time he needed to make sure it stayed in. He let it roll in his mouth as he savored the flavor. It wasn’t ash or flesh and that was all that mattered.

After keeping that in, he kept going, very carefully. He had to stop before he finished a third of the can. Then he closed his eyes. Drained, Five fell asleep, not waking until the world around him was completely dark.

Dolores would be worried. She would be scared, but he couldn’t get back to her like that.

But he would.

He had to get back.

Even though he couldn’t see what he was doing, Five kept trying to finish the can. Eventually he did, even licking every last drop off his filthy, ragged fingers.

“You can’t die here. You can’t do that to them,” he scolded himself.

Finally regaining his senses as he started to wake up, blinking rapidly, Five looked out from under his massive pile of blankets. The room was dim, but the bright light shining in from the crack along the edge of the ugly curtains and the birds chirping outside proved it was morning.

Last, he could recall, it was late afternoon.

Or was it…?

He didn’t know anymore.

Five felt so disoriented while trying to remember what happened. After laying there for probably ten minutes or more, he finally noticed Klaus sitting next to him with a very worried look on his face. Five immediately tried to sit up, but just as fast, he collapsed back into the bed, feeling everything from the sheets to his clothes completely soaked through.

He was still dressed in his academy uniform, minus the ugly bowling shoes. His soiled dress shirt was clinging to his sweaty frame. He had no idea where he was or what timeline it was anymore.

Every bone in his body shook and quivered. Fire felt like it ran through his veins, but his outer core was frozen. The only thing that felt warm was the flood of fresh tears that had rolled down onto his damp pillow.

Seeing his normally put together brother crumbling proved to be enough for Klaus to lean over, hesitantly coming closer.

He raised his arm, resting the back of his hand against Five’s forehead. Five’s jaw set even tighter as Klaus said, “This is not good. You’re burning up.”

His words came out unevenly through chattering teeth as Five asked, “Where am I?” 

Klaus’s brows furrowed. “The hotel.” He paused and shook his head apologetically. “Remember? Dad not being all that thrilled to see his long-lost children again, and then the new and improved Sparrows doing their best to kill us?”

Five let his body fall back on his damp pillow.

“We all came back here afterward,” Klaus explained.

It should have given Five some sense of relief to hear that, but it didn’t.

Five shook his head.

“Five, you don’t need to worry. This place is safe. You can take all the time you need. If you feel well enough, maybe you can get cleaned up, maybe eat a little something?”

“I’m fine.”

Fear struck Klaus him even harder, his eyes widening. “No, you are not.”

“Yes, I am.” Five sat up and flung the blankets off, immediately regretting it. The cold air sliced into him, making him shake even harder. He tried climbing off the mattress, only to have his legs give out. Klaus was quick to react, catching him before he toppled into the nightstand.

“Five, you look like shit,” he murmured, flinching a little as it looked like Five might deck him if he could.

“Thanks, everyone keeps pointing that out. I get it. You don’t need to keep reminding me,” Five said in between labored breaths as he lowered his guard and sat back down.

“I can tell you are hell bent on something, Five, but you will be lucky to make it out of this room right now,” Klaus argued, as he smiled.

Five let out a frustrated growl, wiping his face, his fingers looking like he was trying to dig his eyes out as he looked back up at Klaus in defeat. “Help me then.”

“I will. Just lay back down, I’m going to get you something to eat. Just stay here, ok?”

“Ok,” Five replied, pushing back into the mountain of blankets. Klaus looked so relieved. “I’ll be right back.”

He scurried out of the room. Even swaddled tightly, Five could hardly repress his trembling body from full-on convulsing.

He was having a fever. That partly explained why he felt like shit. He knew that but why didn’t he know the rest until Klaus told him?

All at once, he remembered his dream, or better yet, his nightmare based on a very real memory.

He shut his eyes and tried to forget.

He couldn't. He never would.

“Why was this happening to me?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Five did his best to force them not to, but a stream of more warm tears ran down his face anyway.

His fingers slid under his shirt, over his clammy skin. He searched once again for the torn flesh from my phantom bullet holes but found nothing.

It hurt like a bitch anyway.

Klaus startled him when he came back in, rushing over to set a tray filled with all sorts of things on the nightstand. After that, Five kept his head buried in the blankets as he discreetly swiped away the beads of sweat dampening his forehead, desperate not to show even more evidence of his breakdown.

“There should be something on here that you will like. The buffet here is the best.” Klaus said encouragingly as he tried to bring a cup of juice with a straw to Five’s lips.

“I can do it, I'm not a helpless child,” Five said, blindly taking it from him.

As Five peeked at him through a hole in the blankets, Klaus looked slightly hurt, but he quickly tried to hide it, instead, going about the room, picking up dirty clothes that looked like they belonged to both him and Diego and seeing it all laying there, Five had no idea why.

Had they both stayed with me?

Had everyone come in here?

“I’m going to go out and give you some space. If you need anything, just call.” Klaus smiled, then turned to go but quickly spun back. “Oh, I put some fresh clothes I rummaged up over there. They should work in case you want them,” he offered, pointing to the nearly baren room’s only dresser. “There’s a bathroom down the hall that you can shower up in. It’s a shared sort of situation in there.” He laughed. “Very classy old-school here at the Obsidian.”

“Thank you, Klaus. I am fine. Despite what you see, I can take care of myself,” Five assured, attempting to sound like his self-assured normal, all so he didn’t look so damn pathetic, but then as he tried to sit up again, his vision spun, and he ended up slouching on the pillows instead.

Klaus wasn’t buying it. He quickly came back over, taking the cup from his brother’s hand before it spilled. “I’m staying,” he said, as he parked himself in the torn dressing chair that he already had pulled up next to the side of Five’s bed.

After that, Five hazily remembered talking with Klaus while he helped him eat. Then he knew that he must have dozed off again, because when he awoke, the room was dark, and he was alone.

His burning fever had let up. He felt considerably better than before. He rolled over towards the faint light coming from a lamp on the dresser. Through the curtains, he could make out the faintest lights sparkling in the cityscape.

He’d slept the entire day. The clock on the old nightstand said nine-thirty.

Five heaved the mountain of blankets back, pulling his legs around to the side of the bed. His empty tray was still where Klaus had left it. He had stayed long after Five finished every last bit of food, and Klaus pretended to be resting after that as he tried to sprawl out in his tiny chair, but Five knew he was just staying to make sure he was ok. He was so scared to take his eyes off of him that he didn’t even get up on the top bunk.

Thankfully he didn’t, Five thought. If he had, the whole thing may have come crashing down on him.

“What a shithole,” Five breathed.

Five wasn’t going to admit it, but Klaus at least found somewhere for them to go when he’d had no helpful suggestions. And knowing Klaus was there with him when he was so out of it was probably half the reason he was able to let go and rest again, otherwise, with the little energy the food had given him, he probably would have laid there not letting his guard down as he ruminated on the endless supply of nightmares, he feared were waiting for him.

Further surveying the room, Five noticed there was not much to it, and he remembered Klaus saying the bathroom was down the hall. Trying out his legs, he was happy to find out they weren’t nearly as weak as before.

He made his way across the room, and sure as he promised, Klaus had laid out what appeared to be some very fitting old guy clothes, weird multipocketed fishing style jacket, and plaid fedora included. Holding them up, the pants and shirts looked like they would fit him, and at the moment, Five didn’t care whose clothes Klaus had stolen for him.

Nothing in him wanted to join them, but knowing at some point he had to, and that he needed to clean up, Five sighed. Breathing in, he realized that he smelled horrendous.

He stole a quick look in the dressing mirror and got confirmation; yup, he still looked like shit smeared with shit.

Once inside the large community bathroom that was thankfully yet oddly empty, behind the dressing curtain of one of the showers, Five worked off his soiled clothes, throwing them in a heap.

He couldn’t remember the last time had time for a proper shower. It hadn’t been in this scrawny pubescent body, that was for sure. He had been wearing most of the same clothes he had on when in the 60’s, he’d gotten tricked into taking out the board of directors.

Sickened all over again as vision of their terrified faces slitting open under the blade of his ax, it dawned on Five that not all the blood and grime on him was from the fight at Sissy’s farm.

He was disgusting and his clothes needed to be burned.

In a daze, Five reached in the shower and after several attempts, he managed to get the water hot enough. After that, he stepped inside the spray and completely zoned out.

He didn’t know how long he’d been in there. Well after the shampoo and suds were gone, he stood there, letting the hot water cascade down his face, as if he could somehow wash away his sins and the events of the last two weeks.

Once again, his ignorance had put all of them one step closer to fucking everything up.

Five felt so empty, so worthless.

His dizzying array of questions and self-loathing were cut short when he closed his eyes. In the darkness that surrounded him, the steam of the shower that had felt so soothing on second, suddenly seemed to be smothering him.

He couldn’t breathe!

All he could see was the smoke and ash, feeling the scorching heat against his back and the crumbling cement under his hands as he tore through the ruins trying to unbury his family.

It was too late…

They were already gone but Five didn't care. He wanted them back so fucking badly.

He wanted to be back with them. But he wasn’t. Not really. They were right.

His eyes flew back open, panic arresting all his senses. The limited space of the tub closed in all around him. His chest heaved as he tried to take in air, and his abdomen throbbed even though the wounds that his mind told him were covering it weren’t even there. The pain sent him crumpling to the ground as he tore the shower curtain open and stumbled out. He barely managed to fasten a towel around himself before he fell to the floor, failing to stifle a loud sob.

Someone called out, their voice echoing through the silence of the large bathing area outside the dressing curtain, but Five couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even move. He curled over and began sinking to the floor when he heard something pop.

Bullets popping off in a barrage of gunfire filled his ears as his eyes darted around the small shower stall.

“Fuck, fuck, Fuck, FUCK!” he panted, hyperventilating.

Five’s breathing was nothing more than insufficient gasps as shoes like bullets clipped quickly in his direction.

Please stop, just make it stop!

His low line blurred vision had him seeing a pair of knees, and feet, but he quickly recognized the unlaced combat boots, and that gave him some hope of escaping his waking nightmare.

Klaus suddenly pushed the curtain out of his way and helped Five up so he could sit on the edge of the dressing stool, then he knelt in front of Five, his eyes running over his almost completely exposed body. “Just breathe, Five. What happened?” he asked, his voice sounding so scared that it only scared Five even more.

Forcing himself to look up at his brother, the air was still too suffocating in there for Five to think. He tried to say as much but found himself instead stumbling out of the shower. The immediate drop in temperature between the small mildew filled coffin trying trap him and the grand vaulted ceiling of the bath area was a blessing, but it still wasn’t enough.

Five staggered over to the doors leading out in a desperate attempt to escape, and on his tail, Klaus caught him just as he blinked.

“Five, what are you doing?” Klaus cried out, clinging to Five’s damp arm as they both fell out of his portal onto the roof, but not answering, like a wild animal, Five wrestled out of his hold and bolted.

Almost fully naked and totally out of his mind, Five didn’t make it farther than the edge of the building, stopping at the sight of the six-floor drop. It hit him like a slap in the face.

Wheezing he pulled in breath after breath of the cool night air. The wind was strong, whipping Five’s dark wet hair in his face. The feel of it chilled his entire body even more. The sounds of the horns honking in the traffic were like voices yelling at him, slowly helping to ground him in the now.

It was letting go, the pain…all of it. All the death, but every time Five so much as blinked his eyes, all he could see was concrete, rot, and ash and blood.

The painful toll of reliving this was becoming more and more evident each day. Five knew his mind was slipping away from him, but he didn’t know what to do to stop it. The visions were happening more and more often. His family wasn’t wrong.

He wasn’t okay.

From behind, Klaus carefully reached out, but Five suddenly cowered. Out of instinct, he raised his small arms, readying for a fight.

Looking from his balled-up fists, then back at his brother, Five was even more disgusted with himself.

He sobbed, dignity be damned, letting his body slowly sink to the black tar slicked roof under his bare feet.

A warm embrace suddenly cradled around him despite his sopping wet frame. “You’re okay. You’re not alone. It’s ok…” Klaus soothed.

He was right. The moment his brother’s arms held him, the pain in Five’s chest let up some, and so did the visions. But no matter how good it felt to have someone caring enough to touch him like that, Five couldn’t stop shaking his head. He couldn’t stop sobbing.

“You’re okay. Just breath, keep breathing, man. Slow and steady…”

Five choked in the air as he tried to pull it in slower, forcing myself to calm down and come back all the way.

He squeezed his eyes shut and flashes of cement and ash and broken bodies flew before his eyes, wooden planks smeared with Diego’s blood as Lila she looked at the Handler, seconds away from her heartbroken eyes becoming as blank as the rest. All of it was making an almost blind panic seize Five all over again.

“Everyone’s gone,” he sobbed. “I fucked up…I got you all killed. I got you all killed again!” His whole body shook, and Klaus wrapped himself around him tighter.

"How-" Klaus started but Five interrupted.

"I turned it back."

"What?"

"Time!" Five shouted as his small body rocked and Klaus rocked with him. "I turned it back to stop it from happening," Five whispered, burying his face against his arms.

"You had to save us again? God, Five... I am so sorry," Klaus breathed, his chin resting in the wet matt of hair on the back of his brother's head.

Five said nothing.

“Look,” Klaus said, “Open your eyes. I’m here, we are all here. It’s ok. Just keep breathing, it will stop. You’re having a panic attack. Just keep breathing slowly. Everything is going to be ok.” His voice came in waves and he kept repeating it, working it into Five’s mind the guiding light of love he needed more than anything and had for so long.

Five opened his eyes, seeing his long white toes lined up next to his brother’s big boots as their legs stretched out in front of them. Slowly Five turned his head to face Klaus just a little. “Thank you,” he quietly breathed, squeezing his hand tight, scared of letting it go when normally he was scared of being touched at all.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you this time. We all do,” Klaus whispered. “Just keep breathing… Stay with us, Five.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, there it is. For those that have read my first series, some of this might have seemed familiar. As I said, I have written so many things with Five breaking down and his family being there for him in ways they never were on the show, so I borrowed a little of the dream and his shower break down from things that happened in part three of that story, but hopefully this season 3 adaptation I changed it into worked for you.

I know I sure could have seen this version happening to Five, especially since right before landing in the Sparrows house when he had the shit beat out of him by Lila, frying pan to the head and all, right before a chimney crushed him and then he was shot by the Handler and had to reverse time. He never even told his family he did that as far as how the show went down. So... yeah. Five deserved more and thank you for asking for it.

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