#and fell down the stairs to the basement one day

[afaroffsong]

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Once or twice a year I am hit by a massive wave of homesickness for America that makes me literally nauseous and almost feverish. Anyway I am metaphorically turning my heart inside out as I think about junky old Lincoln, Nebraska and a mice-infested farmhouse and living off of food stamps.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 2

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

After weeks of all-nighters and cramming for finals, sleeping in on your first morning at the beach house felt incredible. It was only 9:30 when you finally stirred in the comfy bed, but it felt late in the day.

Coming down the stairs in your pjs and slippers, you smiled at the sound of your sister’s voice, joking around with her old friends. Your goal this trip was for her to have a good time, and despite the emotional rollercoaster of seeing Rafe yesterday, at this moment, you were glad you decided to stay. You entered the room to see half the house was awake, though neither Rafe or Tom had made an appearance yet.

“Ladies and gentleman, it’s Kerri Walsh Jennings!” Topper deepened his voice like a sports announcer when you entered the kitchen. The few people who were up all turned to you, playfully bowing and applauding like you were a true Olympian. You grinned and rolled your eyes, surprised at how comfortable you felt with the unprecedented attention.

Topper was at the stove flipping pancakes for everyone’s breakfast, wearing an apron that said “kiss the cook.” As you approached the kitchen island to grab a stool next to your sister, he leaned over, holding the spatula like a microphone.

“So tell us, Kerri, now that you’ve won the gold what will you do next?”

“Well, Top,” you played along. “First, I’m going to get some coffee…then I’m going straight to Disneyland!”

Everyone in the kitchen laughed, making the tips of your ears turn red. No one ever laughed at your jokes in high school, not that you were confident enough to make many. Rafe would tell you sometimes that you were funny, so long as no one was around to hear him admit it.

“Well I can help you with the first part,” Topper said, grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.

“Wow, so domestic of you, Topper,” you teased as he poured your steaming coffee in front of you.

“He’s our house mother,” Carter said, smiling wide at Topper who did a jokey little curtsy motion. Clearly this was a running joke between them.

Topper handed you a plate of pancakes, which Kelce promptly reached over your shoulder to steal. 

“Since when are you such an athlete?” Kelce asked, his mouth already full with your breakfast.

You told them all about your team at school, surprised out of your mind that everyone was actually listening intently.

Rafe woke up groggy and sore, ducking his head as he walked through the basement and made his way up the rickety steps. As he reached for the handle of the door which opened into the kitchen, he smiled at the sound of your voice on the other side. His smile quickly faded when he heard Kelce interrupt you with, “Yeah and you kicked Rafe’s ass, too, made him your bitch.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

Every head in the kitchen whipped towards the sound of Rafe’s voice as he emerged, except for yours. You shuffled slightly on your stool and sipped your coffee. Rafe didn’t miss the way you were ignoring him, his eyes grazing quickly over the smoothe skin of your shoulders before redirecting to anything he could find. 

“Cute apron, Top,” he landed on.

“Thanks man,” Topper said, ignoring his mocking tone. “Want some flapjacks?”

“Ew, who calls them flapjacks?” Carter burst out laughing. 

“Well now you don’t get any,” Topper scolded, pulling her plate away from her and handing it to Rafe.

“I don’t want ‘em if Carter’s put her mouth near them,” Rafe mocked. “We don’t know where she’s been.”

“Says the guy who licked the gym floor in seventh grade,” you said quietly.

The entire room came to a halt, everyone surprised at the sound of you joining in on the teasing. No one had actually heard you address Rafe yet. The awkwardness hung in the air, all eyes going wide as they waited to see if the notorious hothead was going to be able to take what he was dishing out. You just picked at your pancakes with your fork and hoped everyone would move on, but Rafe smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye.

“That was on a dare,” he defended himself.

When you finally looked up at him, your stomach twisted into a knot as you noticed how cute he looked in his white undershirt and grey sweats, messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. You immediately regretted acknowledging that you remembered something he did so long ago. Now, he was looking at you with something like excitement, smug that you were talking to him, like your big triumph the day before had never happened. 

“Oh, I didn’t remember that part.” It was a lie, you remembered everything he ever said or did.

Rafe’s face dropped at your impassive tone, his brief window of hope that all was forgiven slammed shut.

To your great relief, Tom chose that moment to enter the room, drawing the attention away from you and Rafe. He had apparently been out on a run, and his under armor shirt, wet with sweat, clinged to his form to reveal a sculpted chest below.

“How we doin’ everyone?” His cheery voice boomed. He slapped Topper on the back before giving Kelce a frat bro handshake across the counter. “What do we have here?” He whistled appreciatively at the spread Topper had put out.

As Topper rattled on about the many flavors and shapes of pancakes he could offer, Tom looked over at you with a cheeky smile and mouthed “good morning!” You smiled back with a little wave, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he was singling you out. 

After the volleyball game last night, you’d all gone to a seafood restaurant on the water. Tom had chosen the seat next to you, and made extremely pleasant dinner company. He asked you all about yourself, about school and what you were planning for the future. He was a great listener, and you were so glad to have someone to chat normally with without the baggage of your childhood hanging over your head. You hoped the week would hold many more cozy conversations with him.

Unbeknownst to you, Carter was watching as you smiled at him in the kitchen, and so was Rafe. They had very different looks on their face as they realized at the same moment that something was happening between you and Tom.

After Topper and Kelce reclaimed Tom’s attention, talking over each other about their plans to go fishing later, Carter squeezed your elbow and motioned with a nod for you to follow her out onto the patio. 

“Ummm, okay, what was that?” Carter asked with arched eyebrows once you were settled on the patio couch next to her.

“Oh my god I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, do you think everyone will think it’s weird I remember something he did in seventh grade?” You asked worriedly.

Carter scrunched her brows in confusion for a minute before waving you off with her hand. “Oh, no not Rafe, he’s old news. I’m talking about your little moment with Tom!”

“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat, embarrassed that you were still lingering on Rafe when she clearly wasn’t. “I don’t know, he’s nice.”

“He’s fucking gorgeous is what he is,” she fanned herself theatrically.

“Are you into him?” Your stomach dropped at the thought that she might be interested. In your eyes, Carter always had first pick, and surely if Tom thought she was interested he’d choose her over you in a heartbeat.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m having too much fun messing with Topper.”

You laughed hard at that, “yeah, I noticed. Are you two back on again?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You think if I play my cards right I could get him to propose?”

“I think you could probably get him to do just about anything,” you chuckled.

“Okay, then it’s settled, I’ve got Topper and you,” she poked at your side and you swatted her hand away, “will make a move on Tom.”

“I don’t know about ‘make a move,” you took a long sip of your coffee, suddenly anxious.

Carter eyed you curiously, recognizing the insecurity she hoped you had left behind now that things were going so well. She didn’t understand how you still couldn’t see how amazing you are, but she was determined to prove it to you by the end of this trip.

Rafe did his best not to stare at you through the sliding door, but when he heard your melodic laugh float in through the screen, he couldn’t help the way his head snapped toward the sound, wishing desperately that it was him making you laugh like that. You used to laugh at all his jokes, and he’d taken it for granted. The sad thing was, he actually loved hanging out with you. You had a great sense of humor, and he always felt so comfortable when it was just you and him. He knows now he should’ve just called it what it was, been with you in public too. But he had so many eyes on him back then, and he was worried what people would think. Plus, he knew you’d stick by him even if he treated you like shit, and he took advantage of that. He kicked himself mentally, feeling like a Grade A chump while you sat there, looking beautiful in the ocean breeze, smiling through the window at some guy you’d met yesterday.

As he lost himself in his thoughts, Topper noticed him staring at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“She looks good, huh?” He asked Rafe.

“What?” Rafe shook his head as if he could erase the thoughts that were plaguing him. “Who?”

“Oh, come on,” Topper nodded towards you and Carter on the deck.

“I dunno,” Rafe tried to play it off. “She looks the same I guess, a little different.”

“Bro,” Topper gave him an incredulous look. “She’s a fucking smokeshow. You’re into her, don’t even try and fool me.”

“If you're so into her, why don’t you go for her?” Rafe snapped at him.

Topper shook his head, “maybe because I’m not the one she was obsessed with for a decade.”

“She wasn’t obsessed with me,” Rafe protested. “We were friends.”

“Right,” Topper said sarcastically. “And I was a number one draft pick. Dude, she was in love with you, everyone knew it.”

Rafe leaned forward on the counter, propped on his elbows, looking down at his uneaten pancakes with a frown. His stomach twisted with guilt. Of course everyone knew, he knew it too. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use your adoration of him to his advantage from time to time. Okay, all the time. He couldn’t really blame you for still being mad at him, he was a dick. But he liked to think he’d grown some since then, not that you had any reason to give him a chance to prove it.

“I think she’s into your buddy, Dom, or whatever his name is,” Rafe grumbled.

“First of all,” Topper pointed the spatula at him, “you know his name is Tom. And second of all, I love the guy, but he’s got nothing on you. Give me one day, she’ll be back.”

“Don’t do anything weird, man,” Rafe warned, cringing at the thought of what kind of damage an unsupervised Topper could inflict.

“Don’t worry dude, I got it handled,” Topper assured him.

Rafe just chuckled and sipped his coffee, knowing this was a losing battle, “whatever you say, Top.”

The door slid open and you and Carter reentered the kitchen. Tom stood from his place at the little breakfast nook when you walked in, and you were relieved that he ended his conversation with Maddie and Sabrina so abruptly at the sight of you. He smiled down at you before heading into the kitchen to help Topper clean up. Rafe was noticeably not helping, sitting at the counter scrolling on his phone.

“No phones,” Carter said, swiping it from him. 

“Give it,” he held his large hand out to her, jaw ticking with annoyance.

“C’mon Rafe, don’t you want to live in the present?” She badgered.

He tried to grab it quickly, but she lifted it above her head, tossing it to Kelce on the other side of the counter, who tossed it to Topper, and the game of hot potato continued, much to Rafe’s chagrin.

“Y’all are children,” he scowled, sitting back on the stool in defeat.

“Who are you even texting? All your friends are here,” Carter jeered.

“I was looking up directions to the grocery store, seeing as there’s no fucking food in this house besides beer, and apparently pancake mix,” Rafe explained.

“No need,” Topper said. “Tom, Kelce and I are spending the day on the water and we’ll grab some stuff on the way back.”

Carter frowned at the thought of both of your boys being gone the whole day, leaving little to distract you from Rafe. This wouldn’t do.

“No, you can’t go out today, we're having a cookout!” She announced to the room.

“We are?” Kelce scratched his head.

“Yes, we are,” Carter nodded confidently, wrapping her arm around Topper’s waist, which you knew was all it would take to get him to agree. “And mom here is going to grill for us.”

“Oh am I?” Topper asked, eyebrows raised in amusement, not exactly protesting.

“Yes, so someone else will need to go get the food,” Carter continued. You knew her well enough to see that a whole plan was unfolding in her head. “Sissy, why don’t you go?”

“That’s…fine,” you agreed reluctantly, narrowing your eyes at her, trying to figure out her play. “I need someone to go with me though, we’ll need a lot of stuff.”

Carter and Topper smiled in sync, both thinking they’d just come up with the best idea anyone has ever had.

At the same moment that Carter blurted out, “Tom can go with you!” Topper loudly suggested, “Rafe can take you!”

Your lips forming a tight line, you gave them both an exasperated look. Their heads snapped toward each other, eyeing each other suspiciously. Rafe scratched the back of his neck, annoyed at Topper for butting in and hating himself for hoping you’d choose to go with him and not Tom.

Tom, meanwhile, was watching all four of you from the corner of the room, never more confused in his life.

“It’s cool,” he said hesitantly, the awkwardness palpable. “All three of us can go.”

“Fine, but I’m driving,” Rafe stood from his seat. “Can I have my phone back now please?”

He reached his hand to Kelce, who was the last to have it. Kelce panicked, wanting to keep the game going, and tossed it to you. You very nearly dropped it, letting it bounce between your hands but eventually securing it before it fell.

You just looked at it in your hands, then up to Rafe and Tom, searching for any way out of what was sure to be an uncomfortable outing without being rude. You came up with nothing.

“I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you handed Rafe his phone, making Kelce shake his head at you in disappointment.

The hum of the truck’s engine was the only sound in the car for a solid five minutes. You sat in the front seat, Tom having opened your door for you, while Rafe drove. You suddenly couldn’t remember what people do with their hands when they’re not driving. Where the hell do you put your hands? Tom’s voice cut through your internal panic.

“So, uh Rafe, Top says you went to Chapel Hill?” He inquired, sitting forward in the backseat so his head appeared between you and Rafe,

“Still do,” Rafe said curtly.

You looked at Rafe for the first time since pulling out of the beach house driveway. You wanted to ask him why he hadn’t graduated on time, always more invested in his academics than he was, but you were trying to pretend you didn’t care.

“Nice, man,” Tom tried to keep the conversation going. “I applied there, it’s hard to get in.”

“I guess I just hit the books a little harder than you then,” Rafe shrugged.

A scoff escaped you before you had the chance to stifle it. Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“What was that?” Rafe looked sideways at you for a moment.

“Nothing,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, please share,” he prodded. You couldn’t believe he was copping an attitude with you.

“It’s just, I’m sure your last name had nothing to do with your acceptance,” you quipped.

Rafe’s jaw clenched and you smirked in satisfaction, pleased that you had gotten under his skin. Tom’s eyes flicked between the two of you, trying to decipher the vibe.

You were glad he didn’t try to attempt any further small talk. Once you got to the grocery store, you divided the shopping list three ways and split up to your designated aisles. You filled your cart as fast as you could, eager to get this shopping trip over with.

After checking everything off your list, you rounded the corner of the produce section toward the registers, your cart nearly crashing into Rafe’s. His entire shopping cart was filled with alcohol. You laughed at the sight. 

“What?” Rafe asked defensively.

“What are the rest of us gonna drink?” You smirked.

“Shut up,” he grinned. “It’s not all for me.”

“Okay but where is the stuff you were supposed to get?”

“It’s under there somewhere,” he mused.

“Sure,” you just shook your head with a smile and kept walking towards the register.

“Shit, wait,” Rafe rolled his cart to you and ran back down one of the aisles.

“No don’t worry about me, I got it,” you muttered to yourself bitterly.

You started pushing both carts but Rafe appeared quickly at your side again.

“Got it,” he breathed, adding one more thing to his cart.

It was a case of Redbull. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, looking down into his cart. Redbull was his drink of choice in high school, you used to buy him one every day and bring it to him after practice, like a puppy fetching the morning paper. Rafe eyed you nervously, your soured expression leading him to believe you remembered just as well as he did. 

“Old habits die hard, huh?” You joked, trying to break the tense moment. 

“Yeah, can’t seem to kick that one,” he replied, relieved that you were the first to acknowledge it.

Tom caught up with you at check-out, his cart actually full of the things he was supposed to get. The three of you unloaded your goods to be rung up by a 16-year-old cashier who could not have been more annoyed that you had chosen his register.

Tom jumped in to help bag the groceries, chatting happily with the bag boy as he assisted. Rafe, however, stood there staring at his phone. 

After you finished emptying your cart, you watched Tom with a smile while he charmed the grocery store staff. Rafe looked up from his screen with a frown, stomach dropping when he saw that you were watching Tom with an affectionate smile.

“Is that everything?” The cashier asked hopefully.

You were about to say "yes" and also maybe "sorry" when Rafe cut you off.

“No wait, these too,” he reached toward the shelf and grabbed your favorite candy, looking at you expectantly as he handed it to the cashier.

“Your favorite,” he explained bashfully at the sight of your furrowed brows.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. “Just surprised you remember. Thanks.”

You looked at him for a moment longer than you should, your eyes lingering on each other’s as you shared another silent memory. You felt a twinge of nostalgia that you knew you shouldn’t.

While you and Rafe looked at each other, Tom pulled out his black card and entered it into the machine. Rafe noticed a moment too late and scrambled to pull his wallet from his pocket, fumbling for his credit card.

“Oh no, hey man, I was gonna get it,” Rafe finally pulled out the credit card he was looking for but Tom was already signing the screen with his finger.

“No worries dude,” Tom brushed him off politely. “You can get me back later this week.”

Rafe was the most competitive person you knew, and the richest, surely he wasn’t going to let another guy pay for everything and walk away. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue with Tom, but with a glance back at you he closed it again. Then he carried as many bags to the car as one person could possibly hold, mumbling something like "multiple trips are for pussies." 

Another fifteen minutes of painful silence might just make your head explode, you thought. The second you were back in the truck, the bed overflowing with groceries, you asked Rafe for the aux.

“What are you gonna play?” He sideyed you as he held it just out of reach. You leaned across the console to snatch it from his hands, and he felt pins and needles where your hand had brushed him. He wondered if you realized it was the first time you'd touched each other in four years.

The two of you had always fought over the aux, you’d eventually give in to his pouting and listened to his shitty house mixes and soundcloud rappers.

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a grin.

Four years ago, you would have been way too nervous to play what you truly wanted to listen to, afraid Rafe wouldn’t think it was cool enough. But now, you pressed play on your go-to playlist with gusto and beamed when your absolute favorite song started booming through his subwoofers. 

Rafe tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t stop them from dancing back over to you as you sang along happily to your music. You rolled the window down, letting the humid Florida air raise your hair in a wave around you. You giggled and tried to tame it, eventually giving up and letting it whip around your face.

There was something so light about you. Something joyful and at peace. He placed both hands on the steering wheel, trying to ground himself, jealous of your carefree spirit. Whatever intangible thing you had managed to capture in your years apart, he wanted it. And it hit him like a lightning bolt, a bittersweet truth he had fought for so many years - he wanted you.

One song rolled into the next, and Rafe searched for something to say to keep up the almost-friendly banter you had begun in the store, but before he could come up with anything, Tom sat forward suddenly.

“Oh hey I love this song!” Tom informed you.

“Me too!” You turned to smile at him, and Rafe listened enviously as you and Tom chatted about the many favorite artists you have in common the rest of the way home.

The house was quiet when you returned, everyone either taking their daily hangover nap or down lounging by the beach. Rafe’s hands turned white from once again carrying as many plastic bags as he could. You tried not to laugh, and tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged under his tight t-shirt, but you failed at both.

“Are you laughing at me again?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, placing the bags on the counter. “What is it this time?”

“Sorry, you’re just so helpful all of a sudden,” you pointed out with a smirk.

“Well bag boy over there wasn’t helping,” he nodded towards the patio, where Tom was taking a phone call.

“He said it’s a work call,” you defended him. “He just got a job in New York apparently, a Wall Street thing.

“Whatever,” Rafe mumbled. What he wanted to say was “since when are you two best friends?” but he had already been fairly gruff with you today and he was trying to refocus on his goal of getting you to like him again.

You and Rafe put the groceries away in silence for a while. You tried to find the right way to approach the question you were dying to ask, failing to convince yourself you didn't care about the answer.

“So,” you started nervously. “You didn’t graduate this year?”

Rafe’s shoulders tensed as he tried to make more room in the pantry.

“Nope,” he said shortly.

“Did you take some time off?”

He was torn between being glad that you were talking to him and mad that this was the topic you’d chosen to break the ice with.

“No, I-uh,” he cleared his throat. “I failed a couple classes my first year so I’m still a few credits behind.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, leaning down to put the ribs for the cookout in the large freezer.

“It’s my own fault,” he shrugged. “I was an idiot back then.”

When you stood from the freezer to grab another rack of ribs, you were surprised to see Rafe standing close, his body looming as he looked down at you.

“I was an idiot before then, too,” he continued, voice low and uncertain.

Everything in your mind went fuzzy as the blood rushed to your face. This was the first time you could smell him, and it familiarity of his scent made you feel like you were being transported back in time. You fought the urge to inhale deeply, greedy for the rush of him filling your senses.

“Before then?” You blinked up at him.

Rafe struggled to find his next words. It took everything in you not to fill in the blanks for him, like you were back in high school slipping him the answers to a test he hadn’t studied for. But this time, you needed him to find the answers all on his own. You swallowed hard, leaving silence for the words he was searching for. 

Before he could find them, Topper and Carter came barreling into the kitchen, mid-argument as always. They stopped short when they saw the scene in front of them. Rafe stepped away from you so quickly you could feel a woosh of wind in his wake. It was eerily reminiscent of your teenage years, Rafe separating himself from you as soon as there was anyone around to see you together.

“Everything okay?” Carter asked tensely, noticing the way your shoulders had fallen.

“Fine,” Rafe said, tossing the rest of the plastic bags in the trash and heading down the stairs to his basement bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

“Damn, you two did good,” Topper said, admiring the cornucopia of food you’d brought back.

“You three,” Carter corrected. “Tom went too.”

She walked up next to you and lowered her voice, a sly smile on her face, “and how did it go with Tom?”

You didn’t match her playful mood, completely preoccupied thinking about the moment you and Rafe had just shared. Was he about to apologize to you? What would you have let him do if your sister and psuedo-brother-in-law had entered the room just a minute later?

“It was fine,” you said distractedly, closing the fridge and heading upstairs to your room.

Carter turned on her heel and looked at Topper with a frown, shocked to find him beaming back at her.

“What are you smiling for?” She snarled.

“Oh nothing, seems like my plan is working is all,” he grinned. “They were standing awfully close when we walked in.”

“Your plan?” She stepped closer to him, arms crossed. “What are you up to Thornton?”

“Just playing a little Cupid,” he smiled proudly.

“Okay well you can go ahead and put down the bow and arrow, because I’ve already got that covered,” she informed him.

“Really?” He asked in surprise. “I thought you hated Rafe.”

“Rafe? Ew, no, I’m talking about Tom, obviously,” she snapped.

“Your sister and Tom? Nahhh, do you not see how she and Rafe have been looking at each other? It’s so obvious,” he scoffed.

“You know what else is obvious? That Rafe’s still a dick and he doesn’t deserve her,” Carter argued.

“He’s actually grown up a lot,” Topper said, surprising Carter with the serious shift in his tone. “He’s been through some stuff, college hasn’t been easy for him. He could use a win.”

Carter considered this, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the years of bitterness she held for Rafe.

“Well, he had his chance. He had millions of chances with her and he fumbled every one,” she said.

“I know he did, but under it all he’s a good person. And I think good people deserve second chances,” Topper explained.

“Not when they hurt my sister,” she concluded. “I won’t allow it.”

Topper's eyes creased with his smile as he looked down at her, loving her steely look and pursed lips as she put her hands on her hips. 

“You’re still so bossy,” he smiled, sliding closer to her until their chests were nearly touching. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting, but it’s kinda hot.”

He leaned forward to plant a little kiss on her lips, like he’d done a million times before. Carter leaned back, leaving his puckered lips hanging.

“Oh no,” she pushed him back, making him frown. “You don’t get to touch me until you join Team Tom.”

“Nuh-uh! Team Rafe for life baby,” he crossed his arms to match her stance, recovering quickly, more than used to being rejected by her.

She studied him suspiciously, wondering how quickly he’d crack if she actually withheld their inevitable beach trip hook-up. But he didn’t budge, he was as serious about this as she was.

“Fine,” she said. “The game is so on.”

(Chapter 3)

a/n: so tell me... are we Team Tom or Team Rafe?

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (1): Yandere Isekai 

When you woke after an especially tiresome day the last thing you’d expect was to reawake in a room that looked nothing like your own

The house, the neighborhood, your job everything was not your own

Instead, it’s resembling a webtoon you remember seeing the marketing, edits, and spoilers for

And if it was all adding up right you’d find the horrifying truth behind the controversial protagonist of the story would be incredibly true

“Look I’m sorry I yelled…I love you…I’m really hungry. Can I eat today?”

The beautiful and practically perfect protagonist was the one who trapped their love interest inside their–now your basement

Chained to the floor on a chair in the dark with unfinished surroundings was the poor victim of the yandere protagonist

Haruko, is an average guy who previously caught the protagonist’s attention by standing up to one an influential pair of elitists in defense of their crush but that’s hearsay

In the former protagonist's atmosphere the children of the rich were victims to their family’s whims often protecting their wealth rather than their children

Which caused Haruko to defend his friend from their overbearing parents

That is when the protagonist suddenly fell deeply in love with the average fellow 

Obsessively stalking him and eliminating their rivals by any means necessary

finally snatching their love and running to a small little home where they planned to have their dreamy life 

Of course, after breaking his spirit and having Haruko develop some kind of stockholm syndrome

To find that you’ve been isekai’d is jarring 

But being a protagonist that had the internet raving for years about how unhealthy they were is awful

But it was nothing when you were standing at the top of the stairs and watching the malnourished man call out to you

“Yeah….sure.”

Naturally you calm down, enough to make the poor guy something to eat and drink

Excusing yourself to have a breakdown in the bathroom before coming up with a plan to fix it all

“Y-you’re letting me go?”

“Yes, I won’t stop if you want to go to the police…but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

You felt so selfish 

But you weren’t the one who imprisoned him

Now that you were though you were going to turn a new leaf

After feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a hefty sum from the protagonists savings 

You go to their place of work where they’re in line for a promotion

“I quit.”

“E-excuse me (L/n)?! But your about to become the vice president of the company!?”

“I know. Sorry?”

You almost feel bad turning down the CEO who visits to try and reason with you

In your opinion, the protagonist didn’t deserve any of their success

They technically didn’t need it because they were stacked

Same could be said for the detective thats been constantly asking the protagonist questions

“You are actually agreeing to talk with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hit your head?!”

With the knowledge from spoilers and ads you’d seen, you knew that the worst part of this story is that the protagonist is doing just fine while Haruka continues to struggle with his captivity and manufactured feelings

You want to do this right, whether you were meant to live in this world from now on or would one day return to your own

But in the meantime you’d do what you felt was right 

Turning their life—now your life around to somehow try to condone for all the crimes they’ve done

Unfortunately, though things don’t seem to want to go your way

“Please Please take me back!” 

“What?”

“You heard me! You were right you’re the only one who loves me! I love you! Please! Please! Take me back in your basement!”

“Okay?”

It seems that once you released the poor guy he returned to society

Expecting to be welcomed by his friends and family upon being missing for years

Who instead had moved on or had benefitted from him being declared dead

He tried to go back to working but he couldn’t get you out of his head

Not the one that ranted about adoring him and the one that would go days without feeding him

But the one that cried when you saw his skin bruising in his chains

The one that fed him a hot meal 

The one that helped him relearn to use his weakened legs

The one that keeps apologizing for every little thing you do

That’s the you, he likes

And he’d much prefer he turn back to being a victim trapped in your basement if it meant having you back in his life

“I don’t mind if you stay here if you need but I’m not keeping you trapped here. I won’t do it anymore.”

He cries and bangs his hands on the floor when you officially tell him

But he’ll take you up on your offer to move in with you

“Good morning (Y/n)! Since you quit your job you’re getting up so much later now. You’ve got to be careful waking too late.”

“Uhm how do you know I quit my job?”

“Unless you're locking me in the basement you don’t need to know!~”

He’s like a weird roommate who occasionally asks that you restrain him in some way

Purposefully rummaging in your storage to find ropes that you haven’t thrown away yet or buying them himself and leaving them out

“Ooops~! I did leave a chain out while cleaning! I’m so bad, being so careless even though you’ve been so against it. I should be punished! I know, you should tie me up! Right? Right? Right?”

He’s going insane everytime you refuse his demands to be locked away

You’re even sweeter now that he’s not locked away and that’s not helping

He’ll ultimately decide he should try it

“Hey (Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You still feel guilty about what you did to me right?”

“...Yes.”

“Then how about you do something for me? To make up for it?”

Even if you know you’ve done nothing wrong 

The guilt doesn’t stop you

Letting him lock you in the basement as he repeats some of the same punishments he remembers

Or rather tries to

“I just can’t seem to stand being away from you for a day, let alone not feed you then. I have no idea how you did it.”

You couldn’t be sure either

Which is why you don’t protest as his actions tend to get a bit more…wild

“Like you suggested I did try going for that new job again.”

“Uh that’s good.”

“I know since you’ve left they seem to be desperately searching for extra hands. I’d feel bad for them if you weren’t with me!”

“Right…”

“But being away from you all day is killing me! Maybe I should look for a more remote position.”

He treats you better than the former protagonist did 

Quickly moving you up to your old room and just chaining you there

But he wants more from you 

More Kisses

More Cuddles 

More Romance 

More Touching

More Quality time

He takes up so much of it, that the same problems that happened in the webtoon were happening again

Except this time it was related to you

“I’m Revmere the CEO of the Revere Co. I’m wondering is (Y/n) home? I’ve been trying to reach them by phone but it hasn’t been going through.”

“And I’m Detective Cape. Thomas Cape, I also need to speak with (Y/n) and you too if that’s alright Haruko.”

Part 2: Coming Soon

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 2. Rules

Masterlist

Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.

Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

[cxrrodedcoffin]

❀ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 ❀

Kinktober fic 3: Cooper Abbott ❀ Kidnapping/Gunplay/CNC

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!

a very special thank you to @xxbimbobunnyxx for the chat sesh that inspired many of the special little details in this, love you dolly!! ♡ 𐙚 ‧₊˚

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!cooper, stalker!cooper, bimbo!reader, kidnapping, dubcon, stockholm syndrome, voyeurism, gunplay, masturbation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cnc “forced” breeding, dacryphillia, daddy kink, creampie, choking, bruising, fem + afab reader, chloroform mention, alcohol mention, oral fixation, degradation, pet names (bunny, sweetheart), oral sex mention (m + f receiving), mutual obsession

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 “𝐧𝐨” (𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝), 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 “𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝” 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Cooper had a soft spot for you, he always had, from the first day he saw you walking past the fire station on your way home. He’d become obsessed, learning your daily routine, your work schedule, what days you liked to go out with your friends. He’d stay out all hours of the night to watch you through the window of your apartment. He loved that you were a night owl, staying up late to dance around your bedroom, watching movies late into the night, even putting on a show for him every time you got new clothes, flashing him your pretty breasts and perfect ass without even knowing it, because you always kept your blinds open, silly girl.

He spent weeks buying things to match the decor he saw around your apartment, pretty pink curtains to put over the small basement windows, a blanket with little bunny motifs all over it, ruffled satin pillow cases just like the ones you had on your bed, even going from pet store to pet store to find a dog bed large enough to comfortably fit you so you wouldn’t have to sleep on the hard concrete like the rest of his victims. You weren't a temporary thrill the way the others had been, no, he planned on keeping you forever.

You were so sweet, so innocent, so full of life. On Halloween night, when you bounded down the stairs of your apartment building dressed as the cutest little bunny he’d ever seen in a white and pink babydoll dress, thigh high stockings, and pink platform heels with fluffy ears and a tail to match, he knew it was the night. While you were out with your friends, doing shot after shot, Cooper was persuading your landlord with his fireman’s badge to let him into your apartment to check for a gas leak. Once inside he perused your belongings, admiring your delicate eye for decorating before gathering some of your clothing and shoving them into his duffle bag, being sure to grab your stuffed bunny off of your bed before giving your landlord the okay and returning to his vehicle parked across the street.

He waited, watching the passersby until he saw you stumbling alone down the sidewalk, almost tripping in your heels as you braced yourself against a lamp post. He slipped from the car, jogging across the street to offer you a helping hand, his heart racing at the way you smiled up at him and giggled a drunken “You’re hot.” against his shoulder as you fell into him. He almost felt bad, placing the chloroform soaked rag over your mouth. But the way your eyes fluttered so sweetly to sleep shook all of that away, knowing you were meant to be his.

You fought him for a while, kicking and scratching and even biting him the one time he’d tried to brush your hair away from your face that first week of captivity. You resisted him as much as you could, spending every moment you had alone those first few weeks searching for ways to escape, but the more time you had alone with your thoughts, the more you started to believe that life with Cooper wouldn’t be too bad.

He was kind to you, attentive, making sure you ate the food he prepared for you, always taking a bite first to show you it was safe. He brought you books to read while he was away, turned on a mix cd of your favorite songs he’d studied your spotify account for weeks to perfectly curate. He gave you your privacy when you showered, providing you with the hair and bath products you used before he’d taken you, he brushed your hair out, letting you use your heat tools to style it and do your makeup to make you feel more like your usual self under his supervision to be sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

He didn’t try to touch you before you were ready, waiting for the day you made the first move, when he knelt down beside you to give you your dinner and you leaned in to kiss him, just a soft peck on the cheek to start. He was handsome, even drunk you knew it that first night, and watching him haul his laundry up and down the stairs each week, arms flexed with his grip, your carnal needs were growing stronger. You wanted him, needed to know if the size of his member matched his staggering height, and as the months went by, you grew more wanton.

Cooper felt like he could’ve had a heart attack the day he opened the surveillance stream on his phone to find you sprawled across your bed, legs spread and dainty fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat, your other hand rubbing quick circles over your swollen clit as you let out the softest, neediest whimpers he’d ever heard. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom at work, making sure his headphones were in to hear you when you came, his fist pumping his cock furiously over the toilet as he watched you fuck yourself desperately, your nose scrunched adorably with the way you concentrated on your movements. When you came, Cooper groaned so loud he knew he’d have to come up with an excuse when he walked out, because what left your mouth made his head spin. You didn’t just moan, you cried out “Daddy!” clear as day.

That was the beginning of him testing the waters, letting his hand linger on you a little longer each time, feeling your skin heat up beneath his touch, until the day you said so sweetly he felt he could’ve died right there, “I-I need help.” and finally asked him to touch you. You trembled underneath him, body on fire with every skirt of his fingers over your skin until they reached your most sensitive areas, rubbing expertly over your clit as his free hand pushed your shirt up over your chest, his mouth finding one of your nipples and gently sucking until you were arching into him, the dual stimulation too much for your touch starved body. You came embarrassingly quickly, clinging to him like you might fall to pieces if he ever let you go.

Cooper spent the next few months figuring out what exactly made you squirm, going out of his way to be sure he just had to wash the flannel he was currently wearing while loading the washing machine full of his laundry, taking his time undoing each button one by one, watching the way you tried to sneakily look over the top of your book to catch a glimpse of his shirtless physique. When he’d gone back up the basement stairs you shamelessly stared at his back, watching the way his muscles shifted with every step he took. He did everything he could to drive you crazy, your requests for his help in relieving your frustrations growing more and more frequent until it was an almost daily occurrence.

He quickly caught on to what kinds of touch made you react the most, and what he found above all else was that underneath that sweet exterior, you had a strong penchant for pain. He’d dig his fingers into you when he went down on you, nails biting into the plush of your thighs until you bruised, your cries of pleasure louder when he pressed down on them. You arched your back the first time you let him sink his thick cock into you, exposing your delicate neck and silently begging for him to wrap his hand around it until he took the hint, squeezing gently as he looked into your eyes, something sparking behind them with the breathy gasp that left your parted lips.

“Little bunny, you like when daddy hurts you, don’t you?” He taunted, watching your eyes light up at the given name, your heart soaring as you finally had names for your dynamic, nodding eagerly as much as you could with his hand around your throat and his hips still slamming into yours.

You became more obedient over time, subconsciously waiting for the rumble of his truck in the driveway when he arrived home from work, your heart racing in anticipation every time you heard it. You found yourself fixing your hair, trying on what different outfit combinations you could make with the few pieces Cooper had managed to take from your apartment, spraying your perfume right before you knew he’d come down the stairs, doing everything you could within your confines to be as appealing to him as possible. Little did you know that he found you appealing in all forms, but seeing you put in that extra effort for him, doing your best to please him, brought him a level of satisfaction he’d never experienced before. You took pride in being his perfect little basement bunny, and he took pride in being your daddy.

You were made for him, had to be, he was sure of it. You were perfect, so willing to adapt, open to letting him play your body like a violin every chance he got. Fucking you was like the sweetest sonata with the way your cunt cradled his cock so perfectly, responding to his every movement the way an instrument does to those of a classically trained musician, walls pulsing rhythmically around him every single time you invited him into your orchestral harmony.

He hardly thought it could get any better until the day he came down the stairs with his handgun holster still attached to his belt, barely even giving a second thought to it as he walked quietly across the concrete floor, watching you snooze peacefully in your little nest of fluffy baby pink blankets and pillows.

“How’s my little bunny feeling?” Cooper’s gentle voice and soft caressing hand against your cheek woke you from your slumber, the cold emanating off the concrete basement wall prompting you to pull your plush blanket tighter around your scantily clad frame, only a baby pink tank, white frilly shorts, and your fuzzy white bunny socks to keep you warm.

“M’okay daddy, just a little cold.” You replied softly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your view of his strong build becoming more clear. He dropped into a squat next to your bed and cupped your chin in his hand, bringing your gaze to his.

“I’ve got another blanket and some sweaters I picked out just for you coming in the mail sweetheart, do you think you can wait a couple more days?” You looked up at him, nodding and stuttering out a “Yes daddy.” through chattering teeth, your body shivering as you sat up and the blanket slipped from your shoulders.

“If you’re a good girl, Daddy might just let you sleep in his bed upstairs tonight, would you like that?” He caressed your cheek, watching as you nuzzled into his touch and nodded eagerly. He smoothed your hair away from your face, your eyes wandering down his chest to his waist before stopping on an unfamiliar sight.

Your eyes went wide when you caught a glimpse of the gun on his hip. He saw it, that same spark behind your eyes he’d seen the first time he choked you, and he couldn’t resist the urge to press the issue as you continued to stare at the weapon.

“Do you want to see it?” His tone was one that would typically be used to address a curious child, knowing how much you liked the condescension. You nodded hesitantly, eyes fixated on it when he carefully withdrew the firearm from the holster. He turned it over in his hand, letting you examine it before brushing the slide and barrel against your cheek, making you shudder. “It’s not loaded.” He remarked, watching your shoulders relax, taking that as a sign to push you a little further. He nudged the muzzle against your lips, dragging your bottom lip down with it teasingly before muttering an experimental “Open.”

You obeyed, slowly opening your mouth until Cooper was able to begin to slide the barrel into your mouth, your front teeth just barely grazing over the front sight as it sunk deeper, stopping when the trigger guard bumped against your lower lip.

“Suck.”

You did your best to service the weapon the way you did Cooper’s cock, but the cold metal on your tongue was making it hard to move your tongue smoothly along the slide, your jaw instinctively trying to pull away. You continued sucking, just bobbing your head with hollow cheeks as you looked into his eyes, only a short distance from your face as he stayed down at your level. He loved watching you humiliate yourself just for him, willing to put yourself through all sorts of degrading acts just to see him smile lovingly at you the way you always hoped he would.

He withdrew the weapon, looking over the way your spit shone on the edge of the muzzle and halfway up the barrel. He drew it back, aiming it at your forehead. You trusted him wholeheartedly, but the action still made you tremble in fear, uncertain if he was lying about the gun being empty.

“Roll over, bunny. Ass in the air, now.” Your brain barely registered the order, still too focused on the firearm aimed point blank at your skull.

“Are you going to behave? Or do I need to keep this gun pointed at that dumb little brain of yours until you learn to comply?”

“No, I mean yes! yes daddy, I’ll be a good girl! I’m sorry!” The fear in your voice made Cooper’s cock twitch, steadily straining more and more against the dark denim of his jeans. He laughed in amusement at how quickly you shifted to your hands and knees, adrenaline coursing through your veins as the gun left your line of sight. You waited patiently as he paced behind you, just taking in the sight of your round ass in those tight ruffled shorts before abruptly gripping your hair and pushing your face into the plush of the bed, your back arching down to accommodate the harsh angle.

Next thing you knew there was foreign pressure against the increasingly embarrassing wet spot on the gusset of your shorts, rubbing teasingly against your folds through the thin layer of fabric. You rarely wore underwear anymore, and today was no exception, only your shorts separating you from being penetrated. You pushed back against what you thought was Cooper’s hand until the cool chill of metal grazed your inner thigh, making you whimper in shock. He gripped the waistband of your shorts, yanking them over your ass to gather at the bend of your knees, acting as a makeshift restraint to prevent you from crawling away.

You were exposed, cold air settling on your impossibly wet pussy, only heightening your sensitivity as the metal of the gun prodded at your folds. You shuddered, reaching for your stuffed bunny, hugging it tightly to your chest for comfort as your pussy clenched around nothing, your fear quickly turned into desperation, the necessity to be fucked growing increasingly apparent through your uneasiness. Cooper ran the muzzle through your heat, coating it in your arousal before pushing slowly into you, the gasps of disbelief and pleasure alike echoing from your throat amazing him. He knew you were dark, but he never thought you’d let him go this far.

He thrust the short barrel in and out of the tight ring of muscles right at your entrance, watching you devolve into a mumbling, moaning mess, keeping you perched on the edge of stimulation, not giving you enough to work toward an orgasm but continuing to push the gun in as far as the trigger guard would allow, teasing you until he had you absentmindedly rocking your hips back against it.

Once Cooper decided he‘d had enough of his fun, he removed the weapon from your heat before placing it on the floor and sliding it across the concrete, out of reach from both of you but just barely remaining in your sightline.

He quickly undid the buckle of his belt, shoving his pants and briefs down to free his aching cock, it practically directing itself to your waiting cunt in front of it. You relaxed into the bed beneath you, the heat rising in your body enough to warm you from the frigid cold of the basement as you eagerly waited for Cooper to finally fill you.

“Did you enjoy that, dirty girl?” His voice sounded distant through the blood pooling in your ear drums but you gathered your scattered thoughts enough to whimper a needy “Yes, daddy.” while nodding what little you could with your cheek pressed to the cushion between you and the ground.

“Then that greedy little pussy of yours is going to love this.” He practically growled, stalling with the tip of his cock just inside your entrance for only a moment before pushing forcefully inside of you, your walls spasming at the sudden yet familiar intrusion. His pace was steady but hard, taking his time to draw almost completely out of you before slamming back in, his fingertips gripped tightly into the plush of your hips.

“She’s a needy little thing, just like you, you know. She was gripping the barrel of my gun for dear life, I almost felt bad taking it away from her, but I think she likes my cock even better, don’t you?” He spoke about your cunt as if it had gained sentience, was its own person. Something about it made you feel less than human, and it made the knot in the pit of your tummy tighten even further. You buried your face in the blanket bunched next to you, trying to hide from him despite the way he reached spots inside of you no one else had ever been able to.

“If you’re not gonna speak, I’m gonna have to listen to whatever your sweet little pussy says, think I’ll give her whatever she wants tonight.” He drew his hand back before landing a harsh smack to your ass, drawing a muffled yelp and an extra firm squeeze of your cunt from you as he watched the raised outline of his handprint form on your tender flesh.

“She likes pain, bunny.” He stated matter of fact, his hand snaking under your hip to find your neglected clit, the swollen bundle of nerves finally getting the attention it so desperately needed. Your walls fluttered around him in response to the focused circling of his expertly trained fingers, milking his cock for everything it was worth, your bodies melding together in the most primal way.

“She likes pleasure, too.” He laughed, increasing his pace until he felt the familiar grip of your cunt on the verge of orgasm, pulling him in with every contraction of your walls around him.

“You hear that? She’s telling me she wants me to put a baby in her.” He leaned over your arched back, his words raining down over you like a heavy downpour. You gasped, eyes rolling back at the provocative statement.

“What little bunny? You like that? Want Daddy to pump your little pussy full of cum?” He laughed again, taking great enjoyment in pushing your buttons, your body literally begging for it in every carnal sense.

“N-No, Daddy, please don’t!” You managed to push the blanket you’d been muffling yourself with aside to feign protest, putting up an imaginary fight.

“Your pussy is saying otherwise, bunny. She’s begging me to give her my babies.” His hand slapped at your clit, making you jolt and cry out again, tears slipping past your waterline from the almost overwhelming amount of stimulation.

“No, no, no! I don’t want to get pregnant daddy, please don’t do it!” You sobbed, your head spinning as he hit that soft spot deep inside of you over and over and over, unable to stop yourself from moaning as tears streamed down your hot cheeks.

“Oh listen to you cry, you're just too cute sweetheart, now I’ve gotta knock you up.” He dripped sickeningly sweet condescension through gritted teeth, a low growl sitting at the back of his throat waiting to be set free.

“You’re gonna give daddy a whole litter of baby bunnies.” He groaned, hips slamming against your ass so hard your skin reverberated back against him, your whole body convulsing as it betrayed every thought in your mind, an orgasm stronger than any you’d ever had before coursing through your every nerve ending as a sobbed scream ripped from your tired throat.

You could feel his cum fill you to the brim as he came with an animalistic groan, the warm substance dripping down onto your trembling thighs when he pulled out. You wanted to collapse info the floor but your body wouldn’t let you, still frozen in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You felt Cooper’s large hands on your lower back, gently pushing you to lay flat on your tummy before laying next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist as he looked at you, waiting for you to finally come down.

“Did I do good, daddy?” You asked barely above a whisper, your throat sore. He smiled, brushing a loose lock of hair behind your ear, that tenderness he held for you showing again.

“You did amazing, sweetheart. Let’s get you up to bed, you definitely deserve it.” He rose to his feet, helping you up on shaky legs before guiding you over to and up the steps, his hand remaining glued to your lower back to remind you who was still in control despite his soft spot for you.

—

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore i@hereforthehitsbaby @thebutchersbitch @userchai @hibiskooks @strangererotica @pinastrihaven @acidqueensstuff @dirtylittlefairytales @batgirlofficial

please comment or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my future cooper abbott/adams fics!

[thewailingbells]

I couldn't find if you had a request guidelines. But I did see that you wrote for Thomas hewitt!

In your latest post, Thomas ended up getting on his knees and hugging S/O (gf/wife?) waist. That really did sm for me girl 😩💪🥵

Can we get another fic Where's he's literly on his knees for her (when she would do anything for him anyways). Maybe he's just had a bad day, and is showing his appreciation for her comforting him. And he's just on his knees completely submitting to her 😩😩? Feel free to change whatever. (Or not do the req if you're not comfy)

PLEASE AND TY BBG

My Love Mine All Mine

AN: I’m sorry it took me a while to answer your request, it was the end of the trimester for my school and I was very busy. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Warnings: None!

The Texas heat clung to Thomas’s sweat-soaked clothes as he slammed the front door shut, the wooden frame rattling. He stomped down into the basement, the weight of each step vibrating through the worn wooden stairs.

The loud noises of Thomas’s frustration echoed through the house, jolting you from the pages of your book. With a sigh, you set the book aside, rising from the dusty old chair. You made your way towards the basement, gently knocking on the door.

"Thomas," you called out, your voice carrying a mix of worry and compassion. "Come upstairs.” Silence was all that followed. You pressed on. "Don’t make me come down there and get you! I know you hate it when I go to the basement."

A heavy sigh came from the other side of the door, and after a moment, the sound of Thomas's boots echoed back up the stairs. He opened the door, and he met your gaze—a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes.

A frown appeared across your face. "Tommy, did you have another rough day at the Slaughterhouse?" His eyes briefly met yours before shifting to the ground.

"Are they giving you a hard time? Saying mean things to you again,” you asked gently. He responded with a shrug. It was his way of saying yes when he had too much pride to fully admit it.

You gave him a comforting hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. Those men can be cruel. You know that nothing they say is true, right? What were they saying this time?"

His hand found its place on the back of your neck, and in a hushed whisper, he confessed, "Ugly."

"You're the most handsome man I've ever met!" you declared, tightening your embrace. Tommy huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

“Kneel down. I want to show you something,” you said.

He slumped his shoulders, a defeated sigh escaping him as he kneeled down.

“Tommy, I think every part of you is handsome. From your arms, to your chest, to your hands, I love all of you. You know what I think is really handsome, though? Close your eyes.”

He allowed you to take charge. Your fingers worked at untying his mask, and as it fell from his face, the foreign feeling of his lower face being exposed made him shudder. Yet, that odd sensation was quickly replaced with a comforting one—the feeling of your lips meeting his.

You gently pulled away from him and smiled. “I love your face. I love that I’m the only one who gets to kiss it. I love how no one looks like you. You’re mine. My Tommy. And I will always love you more than you will ever know.”

For a split second, you could have swore you saw his eyes glisten with tears. Before you could say anything, he buried his face in your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair to comfort him. Before you could praise him some more, you faintly heard the words, “love you,” said in a gruff voice. You smiled softly and kissed the top of his head. No man was better than your Tommy.

[ha-rinrin]

Hiding From The World

Summary: After a meeting with Silco, Jinx goes missing, leaving you to go find her.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 1k

Authors note: The long ass story is still not finished im so sorry guys im gonna try to publish it as soon as I can 🤞🏻. I also did this at 2am, sorry if its bad I literally fell asleep in the middle of writing it.

Masterlist

It's been hours since you last saw her. Jinx was supposed to come back to the hideout after a supposedly urgent meeting with Silco, but the minutes dragged on, turning into hours, and still no sign of her. You tried to convince yourself she was just blowing off steam somewhere, but you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your gut.

Without a second thought, you head to the one place she might be. It’s a little secret basement in an abandoned building tucked away in the darker parts of Zaun, somewhere she figured no one would ever think to look, when you and Jinx first stumbled on this little abandoned building while exploring Zaun’s hidden alleys. The structure was half-buried under layers of graffiti and rust, but Jinx saw it as treasure—something forgotten by everyone else but perfect for the two of you. Together, you’d set up this place over the months, stringing fairy lights from the cracked ceiling, stacking old crates to make makeshift chairs, and even securing it with a series of hidden traps to keep intruders out.

The shadows stretch longer as you approach the building, slipping past the creaky metal door and down the stairs that lead to the basement. You disable the traps one by one, the steps so familiar you could do them in your sleep. Finally, you reach the heavy door that leads into the basement, taking a breath before pushing it open.

And there she is.

Jinx is slouched on the floor, leaning against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes flicker with a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you catch the way her hands keep fidgeting, as if even while sitting still, she can't quite find peace. She looks up when you enter, and something in her expression softens ever so slightly.

"Y/N," she mutters, sounding almost relieved. "Guess I’m not as good at hiding as I thought, huh?"

You close the door behind you, crossing the dimly lit room until you’re in front of her. “Not from me, anyway.”

She scoffs, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. You slide down to sit beside her, close enough that your shoulders are almost touching. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable, settling like a blanket around you both.

You glance over, studying her for a beat. “Rough day?”

She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. “Silco thinks he knows everything. Says I’m too… reckless, like he doesn’t know me by now.” Her fingers toy with a stray thread on her pants, pulling at it absently. “Sometimes I think he just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get me.”

You nod, listening to every word. “Sometimes I don’t think he deserves to.”

Jinx looks over at you, that fire in her eyes simmering down, replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. She doesn’t say anything right away, but her hand inches toward yours, her fingers grazing your palm as if she’s testing the waters.

You intertwine your fingers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “We don’t need him, you know,” you murmur. “We’ve got this place. It’s ours. Away from everyone else.”

She leans her head back, gazing around at the dim room, where the fairy lights cast soft, warm glows over the walls. It’s far from fancy, but it feels like home, like yours. The two of you worked to make it that way—a sanctuary in the chaos.

Her gaze drifts back to you, a small, genuine smile breaking through her tough exterior. “Guess that’s why I wanted to come here… I knew you’d find me.”

“Always,” you say softly, brushing a thumb over her knuckles.

For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, her head eventually finding its way to your shoulder. The weight of her against you feels reassuring, grounding, like the world outside doesn’t matter when it’s just the two of you in this little hidden corner of Zaun.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, “this place… I’d never let anyone else in here but you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you turn slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.”

She smiles again, her eyes half-closed as she leans into you. In this moment, with the flickering lights casting shadows across the room and the muffled sounds of Zaun fading in the background, you both find a rare, quiet peace.

Jinx’s head grows heavier on your shoulder, her breathing slowing, steadying. You glance down to find her eyes closed, the furrow in her brow smoothed out. It’s rare to see her like this—unguarded, peaceful, away from the chaos that usually surrounds her.

Carefully, you shift, wrapping an arm around her to support her as you slowly stand up. She stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake, her head resting comfortably against your shoulder as you carry her over to the old, beaten-up couch you both dragged in here ages ago. Easing yourself down, you settle back with Jinx still in your arms, her body now draped across yours.

She mumbles something incoherent as she nestles closer, pressing her face against your chest. One of her arms wraps around you, clutching the fabric of your shirt as if you’re an anchor keeping her steady.

You can’t help but smile, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. She looks so serene, her usual smirk softened, her breathing deep and calm. Gently, you stroke her back, your fingers tracing light, soothing circles as she relaxes even further against you.

The warmth of her settles into you, a quiet comfort that makes the dim room feel like it’s lit up with something more than just fairy lights. Holding her like this, feeling her heartbeat thrum in sync with yours, it’s like all the weight of the world fades away.

As minutes slip by, you let your head rest back against the couch, one arm wrapped securely around her while your other hand continues to run softly up and down her back. You could stay like this forever, hidden away with her, in a place that’s just for the two of you.

In this little pocket of the world, it’s just you and her, and for now, that’s all you need.

[corruptedcaps]

7 Minutes in Heaven

Sarah adjusted her glasses and smoothed down her Star Wars t-shirt as she stood in front of Franklin’s house, clutching a book, a small gift for him. Her heart pounded in her chest, not just because it was Franklin’s 18th birthday, but because she had finally decided today was the day she would tell him how she felt. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Franklin's mom greeted her warmly and directed her to the basement, where she could already hear the familiar sounds of excited chatter and the hum of a video game console. Descending the stairs, Sarah spotted Franklin in the middle of a lively discussion about the latest Dungeons & Dragons campaign with their friends.

“Sarah! You made it!” Franklin called out, his face lighting up as he saw her. He wore his favorite Doctor Who shirt, and his messy brown hair fell over his thick framed glasses as usual.

“Happy birthday, Franklin.” Sarah said, handing him the gift bag with a shy smile. She could feel her cheeks redden as their hands briefly touched.

“Thanks! This is awesome.” He said, peeking into the bag and grinning.

Just as Sarah was about to ask Franklin if they could talk in private, the basement door swung open with a loud bang. Brett, Franklin’s older brother, swaggered down the stairs, his muscular frame filling the narrow space. Behind him trailed his girlfriend Kayla, her high-pitched bitchy laugh grating on everyone's nerves. Behind them was their posse of equally obnoxious friends.

“Hey, baby bro!” Brett called out, his voice dripping with mock affection.

Franklin’s face tightened with a mixture of fear and anger. “Brett, mom said you couldn’t crash my party!”

Brett ignored him and sauntered over to the stereo, swapping the geeky soundtrack for loud, thumping music. Kayla and her friends started raiding the snacks, making loud comments about the “kiddie” party.

Sarah's blood boiled as she watched Franklin’s party being hijacked. She couldn’t stand seeing him hurt like this. Summoning all her courage, she marched up to Brett. “Hey! You can’t just come in here and ruin everything!”

Brett raised an eyebrow, amused. Before he could respond, Kayla stepped in front of him, a condescending smile plastered on her face. “Aww, look at you standing up for your little nerdy friend. How cute.” She said and pushed her onto the nearby sofa with a cackle.

Brett smirked, relishing the tension in the room. “Alright, we’ll leave. How about a little game?”

“And then you’ll leave?” Franklin asked.

“Scouts honor.” Brett said making a mock crossing of his heart. Franklin nodded.

“Ok we’re going to play a little game I like to call, 7 minutes in heaven.” Brett said with a deepening grin.

All the nerds in the room shifted uncomfortably, they knew what was involved in that game and the social awkwardness that came with it.

“But we don’t have any bottles to spin.” Franklin said matter of factly. Brett looked around the room and grabbed a long, somewhat phallic statue.

“This will do.” Brett said picking it up.

Franklin’s eyes widened in horror. “Brett, we can’t use that! That’s one of Mom and Dad’s fertility idols they got on vacation!”

“Cram it Franklin, it’s just a game. Now everyone, sit in a circle.” Brett snapped

The room fell silent as Brett’s friends began to sit down, their sneers making it clear they were enjoying the discomfort they caused. Sarah exchanged a worried glance with Franklin, but reluctantly, everyone followed suit and sat in a circle on the floor.

One of Brett’s friends, Greg, a tall guy with a smirk that matched Brett's, took the idol and spun it hard. The room watched with a mix of dread and anticipation as it slowed, finally pointing at Lydia, a shy girl from Franklin’s group who was known for her encyclopedic knowledge of all things Star Trek.

Brett laughed loudly, picked up the idol and handed it to Greg. “Alright, time for 7 minutes in heaven! Get in the closet, you two.”

Greg hesitated, clearly not thrilled about the idea, but under Brett’s watchful eye, he reluctantly stood up and walked over to Lydia. She blushed furiously but allowed herself to be led into the small closet nearby. The door closed behind them, and an awkward silence filled the basement.

The next seven minutes felt like an eternity. Brett's group exchanged snide remarks, while Franklin and his friends watched the closet door with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.

Finally, the door creaked open, and the two emerged. Though it was subtle, Lydia looked different. Her glasses were gone, her hair was out of it's ponytail and from somewhere she had gotten gum and was chewing it obnoxiously. Sarah spied her nails and saw they were long and manicured. Did she have those earlier, she thought to herself.

Apart from her physical difference though she seemed to hold herself differently. Her head held higher, her poise more confident. She clung to Greg as though she were his girlfriend.

“Eh, dude me and my lady here are going to head out.” Greg said to Brett as her looked lustfully at Lydia and tossed the idol back to Brett who looked at them confused.

“Fine, leave. Whatever.” Brett said eventually shrugging his shoulders. Irritated by loosing two of the party but undeterred, he turned his gaze to the circle. “Alright, who’s next? You over there, spin.” He ordered, pointing at one of Franklin’s friends.

As the game continued, a strange pattern began to emerge. Each time the idol was spun, the pair that went into the closet emerged with a transformation that no one could quite explain. If a nerd spun and landed on one of Brett’s bully friends, the bully would come out transformed, more like the nerd who spun, and vice versa. And each time, the pair exited the closet infatuated with each other, holding hands, and promptly left the party together.

It was odd, surreal even, but no one thought there was anything at play other than some horny teens’ hormones getting the best of them. The tension in the room grew thicker with each round, and now only Brett, Kayla, Sarah, and Franklin remained.

“Well only four left. We could call it quits now, but let’s see where this goes.” Brett grinned as he took the idol and spun it.

The idol whirled around, everyone holding their breath as it slowed. When it finally stopped, it was pointing directly at Sarah.

Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Franklin, who looked as though he wanted to intervene, but Brett was already stepping forward, his sneer firmly in place.

“Looks like it’s you and me, nerd girl.” Brett said mockingly as he grabbed Sarah by the arm and led her to the closet.

“Don’t go falling in love with her.” Kayla said with a cackle after them.

Inside the cramped closet, Sarah and Brett stood on opposite sides, arms crossed and glaring at each other, with the idol standing between them against the wall on the floor. The tension was palpable, and for a moment, the only sound was their breathing.

Then, faintly at first, Sarah began to hear whispers in her head. “Brett is so manly, so handsome. Isn’t he better than that loser Franklin?” She shook her head, trying to ignore the foreign voice, but it grew louder and more insistent. Neither her or Brett had noticed the idol's eyes glowing.

“If Franklin really cared about you he’d be ripping that door open to get you but he’s not because he’s weak and pathetic. Brett on the other hand… that’s a real man.” The voice continued and she found her eyes betraying her as they slowly drifted over to Brett.

She drank in the sight of his strong jawline, his confident stance. The repulsion she once felt for him and his cruel ways started to melt away, replaced by an inexplicable attraction. She bit her lip hungrily, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

Her body was starting to heat up as memories of seeing him mow the lawn topless ran through her head. The image of his glistening muscles making her panties suddenly wet. She tugged at her clothes in discomfort as if they were too tight.

She didn't yet realise but her tits had gone up two sizes already and her waist had shrunk. Her butt as well had swelled enough to give her whole body a new more pleasing silhouette. She hadn't yet noticed but Brett had.

He looked at her like he had never had before, his eyes noticing curves he had missed. Sarah was just the nerd next door but for some reason now he was seeing her in a completely different light.

"Did you get a haircut or something? Whatever it is you're looking great." He asked her with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Sarah felt her his eyes on her, looking at her, noticing her. She liked it. “Mmmm he's complimenting you, that's more than Franklin ever does. Reward him.” The voice purred in her head.

"You tell me." She grinned as reached up, pulled her hair out of its ponytail, and let it cascade down her back in a teasing manner. Brett's eyes followed her every movement, almost entranced.

"No I don't think that's it. Maybe it's your glasses?" He said with a cheeky smile as he took a step towards her. Her heart pounded as he did.

"He likes you, but can you make him WANT you?" The voice in her head said darkly.

Sarah took off her glasses, tossing them aside carelessly. Her vision remained perfectly clear, as if her transformation had enhanced her senses and although she couldn't see them, her eyes had changed from her dull brown to icy blue.

"What glasses?" She said returning his cheeky smile to him, while taking a step closer herself. They now stood closer to one another than they ever had in their life.

"I know, it's got to be those nails." Brett said snapping his fingers and nodding towards her hands. Sarah looked down at her freshly manicured talons painted red. It didn't even dawn on her that they had been chipped and bitten only a few minutes ago.

She flexed her hand and looked at her nails with glee. They looked good but her mind couldn't help wonder how they would look wrapped around Brett's cock.

"Take him! You deserve him and it'll be so hawt stealing him from Kayla, won't it?" The voice purred as Sarah ran a hand up Brett's strong chest, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his muscles.

While clearly turned on, Brett nevertheless cocked his eyebrow in curiosity. “What are you doing?”

Sarah smiled flirtatiously “Just admiring the view.” She replied, her voice sultry. Her eyes locked onto his, a mischievous glint in them as she continued to explore his chest with her hand.

"What's gotten into you?" Brett asked, his voice low and husky.

"Does it matter?" Sarah replied, her voice dripping with seduction. "I think we're both enjoying it, don't you?"

Brett lifted a hand to her face, cupping it tenderly sending a shiver down Sarah’s spine. Her body was red hot with desire for him but a part of her still resisted, urging her to leave. The part of her that still held a candle for Franklin. However just as she was building up enough strength to pull away, Brett extinguished that candle with a kiss.

As their mouths moved together and their tongues entwined the transformation in Sarah surged. Her chest swelled even more, filling out her shirt to the point where it strained against the fabric. Her skin took on a golden tan, becoming flawless and radiant.

Makeup appeared on her face, enhancing her natural beauty with perfectly applied eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick. Her dull brown eyes became icy blue.

As Brett and Sasha continued their fervent kiss, a deeper transformation began to take hold. Sasha's mind started to shift, reshaping her thoughts and desires. The once fervent love for nerdy stuff like comics, video games, and sci-fi dissolved, replaced by an intense interest in makeup, jewelry, and fashionable clothes. The joy she once found in knowledge and creativity morphed into a fixation on beauty, status, and power.

Despite the heat of the moment, something in Sarah's mind was compelling her to open her eyes. When she did she finally saw out of the corner of her eye the idol. It's eyes glowing an ominous red. That's when she put two and two together.

The idol they had been using as a makeshift bottle was somehow turning the spinner’s target into the spinner’s perfect partner. She knew if she didn’t stop it soon she’d be forever changed, she'd no longer be the Sarah everyone knew. But she didn’t want to stop it now, she wanted more!

Her previous kindness and empathy were overwritten by a growing desire to be bad, to assert her dominance and superiority over others. She relished the idea of being a bully, of wielding her newfound beauty and charisma to get what she wanted, regardless of who she hurt in the process. The spark of cruelty in her eyes intensified, and she pulled away from Brett, looking at him with a newfound arrogance.

"My God Sarah...you're..." Brett said, his eyes wide with amazement at the complete transformation before him.

"Ah ah, call me Sasha, babe." She interrupted, a playful smile on her lips.

Brett nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. "Sasha... you're incredible."

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” She said with a devilish smile as she sunk to her knees and undid his belt. Brett's cock sprang eagerly out and Sasha's mouth began to water at the sight of it.

Wasting no time she wrapped her pink lips around it and started to suck. Brett groaned immediately as she worked his dick like a pro. She couldn't believe how good it tasted, she was going to enjoy doing this more often.

As she sucked her body continued to change. Her hair darkened, her pussy tightened, and her body became incredibly fit and flexible. It dawned on her that the other guys and girls that had been in there before them had only kissed, their passions fuelling the idol only so much and in turn their transformation. Sasha was now the hottest girl in school but she wasn't about to stop there.

Running her tongue up his shaft and hungrily swallowing his precum, Sasha pushed Brett against the wall of the closet, kissing him deeply.

"Fuck me babe, fuck me hard with your big dick! Rip off my panties and fuck me." She moaned in his ear. Brett expertly undid her now baggy jeans which slumped to her ankles. He did as she had asked and ripped her underwear off her in one clean tear. She giggled at the sight of his strength.

Her giggles soon turned into passionate moans as his dick slid easily into her wet pussy. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the idol's eyes bathed the two of them in red light.

Sasha’s tits grew even bigger, her lips plumped up and her skin became even softer and more tan. Even her clothes began to change. Her jeans seemed to turn to dust and blow away. Her nerdy shirt grew a little longer, darker, turning into a little black slutty dress. High expensive heels wrapped around her pedicured toes. She lifted herself onto Brett and wrapped her sleek legs around him.

“Mmmm yessss baby, fuck what little of the nerd I used to be out of me! Oh god, I’m going to cum!” Sasha whined as Brett pounded her pussy over and over until a wave of pleasure washed over both of them as they both climaxed.

“Oh my god Sasha you’re perfect.“ Brett managed to say as her lifted her gently back down onto her feet.

Sasha pressed herself against him, her body warm and inviting. "You’re not so bad yourself stud." She purred.

Sasha smirked, reveling in her new identity. She straightened her dress and admired her reflection in the mirror, her thoughts centered on her own beauty and power.

Sasha and Brett emerged from the closet, hand in hand, their faces glowing with a shared and inexplicable infatuation. Franklin and Kayla stared at the pair in stunned silence.

Kayla, her face twisting with anger and jealousy, stepped forward. “What the hell Brett? I thought all those sounds we heard was a joke!”

Sasha grinned triumphantly as she squeezed on Brett’s arm, ignoring the glare from Kayla. Kayla however grabbed Sasha and pulled her from her embrace.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing slut, but get your hands off my man!” Kayla snarled.

Sasha laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the room. “Bitch, you’re yesterday’s trash.” With a swift, calculated move, she grabbed Kayla’s hair and yanked it hard, causing her to yelp in pain and fall to her knees.

Relishing her power, Sasha pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Franklin. “That’s your man now.” She declared with a smirk.

Kayla’s eyes filled with fury and confusion as she looked at Franklin, who seemed equally bewildered. Sasha turned her attention to Franklin, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of malice and amusement. “Spin the idol, Franklin.”

Brett tossed the idol to Franklin who put it on the ground and gave the idol a spin. As it slowed, Sasha maneuvered Kayla to make sure she was in its path.

Sasha’s grin widened. “Looks like it’s your turn, Kayla. Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven.” She said and pushed Kayla toward the closet, the look in her eyes daring her to protest.

Reluctantly, Kayla stepped into the closet with Franklin following suit, clutching the idol. Sasha slammed the door behind them and Brett propped a chair up to seal them in.

Brett pulled Sasha close, his hands resting on her waist. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day when little nerdy Sarah would turn into such a knockout bitch.” He said with a smirk.

Sasha chuckled, running her fingers through Brett’s hair. “And I never thought I’d find myself attracted to a mean guy like you, Brett. Funny how things change, huh?”

Brett leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “So, what’s the plan now babe? You going to take over the whole school?”

Sasha grinned, her eyes gleaming with ambition. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be the queen bee, and no one’s going to stand in my way. Not Kayla, not anyone.”

Brett’s smirk widened. “I like the sound of that. And I’ll be right by your side, making sure no one forgets who’s in charge.”

Sasha leaned in for another kiss, savoring the power she felt in Brett’s arms. “Oh fuck you make me so wet you hawt bastard. Come on, lets go upstairs so you can fuck my brains out some more.” She grinned as she pulled him towards the stairs.

"What about those two?" Brett said half heartedly as he gestured a thumb at the closet.

"Leave them. The longer they are in there the more dorky Kayla will become. Taking her place as the queen bee will be a cake walk." Sasha smirked as she led Brett up and out of the basement.

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: I don't know how often I'll post - shooting for a couple times a week (MWF?). I'm trying to be quick caz I also hate waiting on the next part of what I'm reading. So I post as I write :) thanks for your support and patience!! Love you guys

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: angsty, explicit language, mentions of abuse/neglect, fear

WC: 3340

Chapter 4

“Minho… talk to me.” Chan insisted, coming down the stairs.

Minho plopped on the couch in the basement.

“What is it?”

Minho looked at his Alpha. 

Chan looked at him expectantly, making Minho groan.

“She’s my soulmate too.” he said, his voice barely audible.

Chan looked into his eyes, surprised. “You too?”

“At this point…it’s half the pack.” Minho threw his arms up as he fell back into the couch.

“So I guess this means you agree she should stay?” Chan smiled, his dimples showing as he poked at Minho playfully.

“Of course she’s staying. I’m not a monster.” Minho grumbled.

Chan looked at the stairs, hearing the doorbell.

“I hear Doc Quinn. She must be here to do a checkup.” Chan noted.

“This still doesn’t fix our problem. We can’t afford a fight against the Nyko pack.” Minho continued.

“I know. We will figure it out.” Chan said. 

Doctor Quinn, Felix, and you come down the stairs.

“Morning Chan. Morning Minho.” Doctor Quinn cheered.

“Morning.” Chan greeted warmly.

“Morning.” Minho mumbled, not bothering to turn around.

You three went into the med room.

“I’m going to eat.” Minho stood and jogged up the stairs to go get his plate.

Chan lingered a bit, hearing the conversation between you and Felix before he too went to get his breakfast.

“Y/n, I know it will take time, but I promise you, they are trustworthy. They will take care of you… the right way.” Doctor Quinn went on. “And I’m here for you too.”

You nod.

“Eat well, okay. And get plenty of rest. Soon you should feel normal. Or what normal should be.”

“Okay.” You say in a small voice, making her smile.

“I’ll ask you more questions next time. For now, just get acquainted with everyone.” She removed her gloves and gestured to the door. “You’re free.”

You looked at the open door, processing her words. Free. You were free? Tears filled your eyes and threatened to fall down your cheeks as you felt hopeful for the first time in a long time. You blinked back the tears, standing from the bed and stepping out of the room. Wanting some fresh air, you went out the double doors, inhaling the morning air as you fought back the tears. 

Could I truly be free?

“Hey…you okay?”

Your eyes pop open as you look at Felix standing before you. His brows were furrowed in worry. You nod but he doesn’t seem to believe you. But still, he doesn’t push you.

“How are you feeling? Tired? Hungry?” Felix questioned.

You shook your head.

“Do you want to watch tv or play some video games?”

You looked at him confused, never having done either of those things. 

“C’mon. We can pick something to watch together.”

Felix led you inside and upstairs. You noticed the kitchen was all clean, Minho putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. He looked up at you two and you were quick to look away. He clearly didn’t like you being here so you didn’t want to upset him further.

One of the boys was sitting on the couch watching tv already, remote in hand. He was also very handsome. His full cheeks and wavy hair drew you in, his smile was cute and contagious. 

His scent was different from Felix’s, which smelled of lavender and daisies, with a hint of eucalyptus. The other smelled like fresh cut grass and lemons, with a hint of gardenia. It was intoxicating and reminded you of a faint memory from your childhood - both their scents did. 

The memory was from one of the last days you had with your mother. You two had spent the day picking flowers in a field. There were all kinds of flowers and plants around you - daisies, lavender, roses, and gardenia. The gardenia smell was your favorite, but your mom loved the daisies. She said they were her favorite flower. Oh, how you missed her.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie?” Felix asked him.

“Sure. What movie?”

“I don’t know.” Felix sat down next to him, snatching the remote with a smile.

“Yah! Give it back.” He moved to get the remote back but Felix was too fast.

You jumped back at their interaction, not wanting to get in the crosshairs of their dispute. The two boys wrestled on the floor as Felix tried to keep hold of the remote. Minho suddenly walked into the room and towered over them with a glare. You shrunk against the window behind you, feeling his annoyance. They must have felt it too because they stopped and looked up at him.

“Best…behavior?” Minho spoke with gritted teeth.

“Sorry.” They mumbled in unison.

“We were just playing around.” Felix pouted.

“Pick a movie or go upstairs.” Minho left the room without even looking back at you.

“What’s got him so tense today?” Chubby cheeks asked.

Felix shrugged, noticing you standing by the window. “It’s okay. Come sit. This is Jisung.”

“Hi.” Jisung says with a smile and a wave.

You slowly come over and sit on the couch opposite of Jisung, Felix between you two. It was so comfy that you just sank right into it. Felix pulled up the movie list, throwing out some titles. You just shrugged, none of the titles sounding familiar. Eventually Felix decided on Harry Potter. 

“A classic,” he called it.

You only managed forty minutes of the movie before falling asleep on the couch next to them. At first they didn’t notice, but when Chan came into the kitchen and asked where you were, they looked over to see you laying down asleep.

Chan came over, not seeing you laying there from the kitchen, and smiled down at you. He grabbed a blanket from the basket at the edge of the fireplace and draped it over you. Felix and Jisung changed the channel to some soft music and headed upstairs so as not to disturb you. Chan went into his office to do some work, but not before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of you. You were too cute to resist.

“Well she’s definitely not dead…” Milo states.

They had searched all through the forest for your body.

“No shit. Obviously she got away. If she’s with the neighboring packs, Lewis is going to be furious.” Hayes runs his fingers through his hair.

“Wouldn’t the packs just give her back? We have agreements with them.”

“Did the cobalt get to your head or are you always this stupid.” 

Milo glares.

“The Greenridge pack is full of weak hybrids. They would probably nurse her back to health and hope she makes them stronger. The Okami pack fear us enough they probably would actually give her back to avoid issues.”

“So if she’s not dead, she’s with Greenridge.”

“Or Okami. Or Honshu. Omegas make hybrids do dumb things. You of all people should know this.”

“YAH! I was having fun. Same as you.”

“You crossed a line. I should have said no to the cobalt. Then she wouldn’t have gotten so disorientated and stepped off course.”

“I’m happy she did. Maybe she passed the cobalt along to the ones who tried to heal her and they got poisoned too.”

“I swear you get stupider everyday.” Hayes says.

Before Milo can pounce on his brother, the phone rings.

“Dammit. Don’t say a word.” Hayes says, answering the call. “Hey Lewis. How’s Montana and the Harlow pack?”

“They are good. We made a deal last night. I need you two to make sure the omegas are cleaned up, fed and not injured for the next few days. They need to be in their best shape. Especially my little y/n.”

“Why?”

“The Harlow pack has agreed to become our allies. Their support and numbers in exchange for an omega. Y/n is the weakest link so she should be a good one to pawn. So make sure she looks the best.”

“Okay. Yep, got it.” Hayes glared at Milo who was eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Everything alright there?”

“Everything’s great. Couldn’t be better.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I gotta go, the maids are just pulling up.”

“Okay. Have them give the omegas a little extra food.” 

“Will do.”

Hayes hung up. “We are so screwed.”

It was nearly two hours later when you began to wake. Blinking your eyes open, you noticed a figure sitting next to you. You pop up, pushing back into the couch cushions.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” he said in a sultry voice. 

This man was beautiful. Toned arms flexed as he adjusted how he was sitting so he could face you. His black hair was slightly wavy, his dark eyes fixed on you. He gave a small smile as you made eye contact and you swallowed, noticing the beauty mark he had under his eye. He was just staring at you like you were something to eat.

“I’m Hyunjin.” He smiled bigger.

“Y/n…” you whispered, looking down in your lap.

His eyes widened, not expecting you to talk since everyone said you didn’t. But he was quick to clear his throat, jumping for joy on the inside. “Nice to officially meet you.”

With that he stood, but hesitated, staring at you for a few moments before finally walking off. You watched after him, confused, but grateful for the space. Looking around the room, you didn’t see anyone. The tv was playing music and you wondered how long you had been asleep. 

You stood, walking down a hallway. There were pictures on the walls of the boys. A couple group ones, some in pairs. You smiled how much they clearly loved and cared for each other, wondering if that would ever be you. There was a cutout in the wall displaying a vase with fake Calla Lilies in it at the end of the hall. Turning you see two french doors. Approaching, you look behind you before continuing.

Upon opening the door, you step in and see an oversized desk with a computer on it. One wall is full of built-in bookcases, the other having floor to ceiling windows. There were two chairs facing the desk, a person sitting down in one. He was quick to turn around, staring at you.

The chair behind the desk spun around and revealed Chan on the phone. You should have knocked…or not been exploring at all. This wasn’t your house. 

You began to slowly back away, but Chan was quick to gesture you forward. You look back to the other person, realizing he also had an alpha scent. This slim cutie was the third alpha in this pack. He brushed his hair from his eyes, forcing a smile at you. You didn’t realize earlier how pretty his eyes were. Or how cute his smile was with his dimples.

You looked down, wanting to run far away. Why was everyone in this pack so unbelievably attractive?

Chan finished up his conversation, before smiling at you.

“How was your nap?”

You hesitated before deciding to speak. “Good.”

Chan’s eyes lit up, taken aback by your verbal answer, and smiled even bigger. Wow those dimples. “That’s great.”

He stood up, making the other alpha stand as well. You stiffened, instinctively stepping back.

“It’s alright. This is Jeongin. He is the youngest here and our newly presented alpha. So you’ll have to excuse him if he gets a bit uptight.” Chan says, resting a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder.

“I’m not uptight.” He groans, pushing his hand off.

Chan just laughs. “I have to go discuss some things with another pack. I’ll probably be gone the rest of the day. So if you need something, just ask anybody in the pack, okay?” 

You nod.

“Innie, would you like the honors of showing her to her room?” Chan asked.

You look up at him incredulously. 

“Sure.” Jeongin says.

“Room?” you echoed.

“Yes. You will have your own space. That way you can nest how you like. And you can personalize it however you want. If you don’t like the wall colors, we can change it. Want new furniture? We will replace it. Whatever you need for your nest, we can get, okay?”

You blink in disbelief, speechless. You didn’t know what he meant by nest but you didn’t say anything.

“Ready?” Jeongin asked, interrupting your thoughts.

You nod.

“See you later.” Chan smiled.

Jeongin led you back down the hall and upstairs. This was your first time up here and it was massive. There was a bit of loft space where a lot of junk as well as clothes were piled up.

“Laundry mess.” Jeongin noted. “This way.”

Jeongin led you down a hallway to the left and you saw a couple doors in the hallway. One of the doors had loud noises coming from behind it as well as two people arguing. You think one of them is Felix….if you can recognize his husky voice by now.

“They get too into their video games.” Jeongin said with an eyeroll.

You heard a door open and close behind you. Turning to see who it was, you saw the slim, gorgeous man from earlier. Starts with an H but you can’t remember.

“Innie… what are you doing?” he asked.

“Showing her to her room.” Jeongin answered.

“I think you’ll like it, y/n. It gets a lot of natural light and has calming colors in it. But if you want help painting it, I can help you.”

“Y/n? That’s your name?” Jeongin asked.

You nodded.

“How come you told Hyunjin first?” Jeongin pouted.

Hyunjin. That’s his name. 

“Because I’m special.” Hyunjin gloated.

You were quick to shake your head in defense. “No, I-”

You didn’t know what to say. He just happened to be there when you decided to start talking. It wasn’t favoritism.

“It’s fine. I see how it is.” Jeongin opened the last door on the left and walked in.

Your shoulders dropped, your feet not moving.

“He was just teasing. He’s not mad.” Hyunjin assured.

“Oh, I was only kidding y/n. Don’t be sad.” Jeongin was quick to come back to your side.

“We joke around and are sarcastic a lot. Don’t take us too seriously.” Hyunjin offered a smile.

You look to the room and begin to step inside. It was spacious and nicely decorated with neutral tones. The wood accent wall and ceiling were a soft tone, white sheets brightening up the room. Hyunjin was right, the windows let in tons of light. You had a spacious closet although it was empty right now since the only clothes you owned were shredded in the forest. You didn’t even know where they were but wouldn’t be surprised if they were thrown out.

“And over here is your bathroom. It’s a private bath, so you won’t have to share it with anyone.” Jeongin informed.

Walking into the bathroom, you were stunned. It was so clean and…and gorgeous. Worn shiplap walls, white tile in the shower and a vanity sink. This bathroom was a major upgrade from your hole in the floor of the cell.

“You like? Hopefully it’s not too much.” Jeongin’s brows furrowed in worry.

“It’s probably too much.” Hyunjin deadpanned, earning a glare from Jeongin.

“It’s….gorgeous.” You say.

“See, she likes it.” Jeongin pushed Hyunjin out the doorway as you all exited the bathroom.

“I’m hungry. Would you like something to eat, y/n?” Hyunjin asked.

Eyes wide, you nod eagerly and they both giggle at you.

“Come on. We can make something to eat.”

“When you ever need space, you can come here. Okay?” Jeongin said.

You nod before following Hyunjin to the kitchen.

Hyunjin had made you both some ramen, yours less spicy as it was your first time. It was so yummy, you ate the whole bowl. He offered you more food, but you were full, your body not used to big meals. Jisung and Felix had come down to eat too, and asked if you wanted to finish the movie. You agreed and spent the rest of the afternoon watching the first two Harry Potter movies. 

Felix explained things as they happened, making sure you were understanding the world and what was going on. You felt yourself relaxing for the first time. You enjoyed the movies and got really invested in the story. Felix was happy you liked the movies, even running upstairs to get his computer and make you take the official test and get your house. (Just use whatever house you would like if you’re into Harry Potter)

After, Minho pulled Felix to help with dinner. The thought of eating again was daunting, you were still so full from your late lunch. Eating this much in one day was new to you but you didn’t want to be rude. 

Seungmin and Changbin came downstairs and joined you and Jisung on the couch. Jisung was watching an anime but you weren’t really paying attention. Instead you were staring at the two boys talking about the show with him. You didn’t realize earlier just how buff Changbin was. He was probably three times your size with his broad shoulders. It was a bit scary honestly…. The damage he could do if he treated you like the Nykos. Thankfully Hayes and Milo weren’t this buff. He then laughed about something and it was a really cute laugh. It made him seem softer and you found yourself smiling at it. 

Seungmin was also so, so attractive. You stared as he brushed the hair from his eyes and pointed at the screen. He rambled about something that was happening, but you just watched the way his lips moved as he spoke. His skin looked so soft - not that everyone else’s didn’t - but you wondered how it would feel under your fingers. He looked over at you and caught you staring, smiling back at you. You blushed, looking over at the tv.

“Dinner’s ready.” Minho called out after nearly an hour.

Everyone scrambled up and hurried into the kitchen. You watched from the couch as everyone grabbed their plates and filled them with food. You looked at Minho, watching as he swung the kitchen towel over his shoulder before kissing Jisung on the cheek and moving out of his way. You found yourself wishing he would do that to you, his lips looking so kissable. His pointy nose was so cute you wanted to kiss it too. He was insanely attractive and you felt such a pull to him. You wanted to trust him, to lean over and touch him. All of them. You wanted to fit in and belong in a pack so badly. Especially after seeing the way they all belong together.

The chemistry they all had was undeniable. It’s like they had spent their whole lives together. You wondered how they came together. How they managed to not get overthrown by Alpha Lewis.

“Not going to eat?” It was Minho. 

He was standing right in front of you. You were too in your thoughts watching everyone you didn’t notice him approach. Now he was actually talking to you. Doesn’t he hate you?

He came around the couch and reached for your hand. “Come on. You need to eat.” 

He wrapped his fingers around your hand before you could pull away and gently tugged. You stood, letting him lead you into the kitchen. The others stopped and stared, making you look down. You weren’t going to go against what the Alpha wanted so you let him hold your hand as he grabbed a plate for you. 

Everyone else resumed what they were doing and moved to the dining table. Seungmin put some food on the plate Minho held for you - smaller portions since he knows you can’t eat much - and then Minho led you to the table. He sat you on the end next to the head chair where he had his plate.

“Enjoy.” He said to you, a ghost of a smile just barely touching his lips before he began to eat.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @bowsnbang

Shout out to my beta for inspiring, motivating, and pushing me! @its-the-solar-system

[gaycragula]

Hello there

Please could i request a child male reader (around 9-12, maybe younger idk you can choose) x 141. Platonic obv. Reader is being held hostage for reasons and they have to go on a rescue mission. When reader is saved he’s scared of them all except ghost who he just clings onto LMAO

cheers mate 🙏

Lost and Found

Pairing: 141 x Child Male Reader (Platonic!!!!) Warning(s): Heavy implication of parent death, politician family, child reader, locked in a basement, he gets fed i promise, i have no idea how the military works, angst? Word Count: 2069 Masterlist

The walls were an ugly, cracks running along them, and you’re sure there was mold growing in one of the corners. The only light in the room was a small lightbulb in the center of the room that was rarely left on. The only door leading out of the room was locked from the outside. You’re not sure you exactly wanted to leave the room. Not with the heavy thumps of feet that stomped through the first floor of the home.

It was a nice summer day when it happened. You’d just finished a nice dinner with your parents when the sirens began to blare. The sound cut your ears and you covered your ears, trying to block out the noise. You were whisked out of your chair by your dad before  you could get up yourself.

Hushed words were shared between your parents as they rushed through the home to the basement. Your father’s grip was tight on you as he toted you down the stairs, your mother right on his heels. 

Dad set you down in a corner, trying to keep you out of direct sight of the stairs. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, your mother doing the same. 

“Be good and stay here,” your mom whispers, giving you a pained smile. Her lip quivered as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Mom and Dad love you. We always will.”

. Then, they left you, footsteps receding back up the stairs into the home. You heard the door shut and a silent darkness covered you. The silence only lasted for a moment. 

Something crashed upstairs and loud bangs made you cover your ears again. You curled further into the corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. More crashing and something heavy hitting the ground sounded before it fell silent again. It was over… right?

The basement door slammed open and you gave a full body flinch. A flurry of steps rocketed down the stairs. Way too many to be just your parents. 

Five or six men came into your sightline. Each of them looked like they were armed to the teeth and it sent a jolt of fear through you. These men just ran through your house. Where your parents were. Where were your parents? 

They scoured the basement, flashlights leading their guns as they searched. For what? You weren’t quite sure but you hoped they would just look over you. The fear surging through your body was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe, each breath fighting to force its way out silently. You tried to stay hidden for as long as possible but their flashlights soon exposed you.

They said something you couldn’t understand before moving on and returning upstairs when they finished. You heard the faint click of the lock to the basement and you were left in the basement by yourself again. You tried to fight the tears that began falling down your cheeks as you curled in on yourself. It wasn’t a very long fight and your face soon became wet with your tears. It hit you then that you’d probably never see your parents again.

It had been a week since it had happened. The men would leave food for you at the top of the stairs. You spent the majority of your days sitting under the light in the room, playing whatever you could find. Trying to distract your mind. You were suddenly happy your parents kept a chunk of toys down in the basement for storage.

Totes of toy cars that you pretended to race with, some toy dinosaurs you’d gotten years ago, left forgotten in the basement until now. There were planks of wood you’d dragged over that you drew on with some chalk your parents kept down there. The chalk worked well on the walls as well.

Drawings littered the small walls of the basement. Cars and dinosaurs littered the floor. Your house.. Your home, your family. Where did it all go?

You’ve tried to talk to the men on multiple occasions but they only either looked at you with disdain or spoke in a language you couldn’t understand. 

On the eighth day of the occupation, you heard those loud bangs and the shouts of men again. You started crying again, you didn’t even have a chance to try to stop it as you scrambled  back into a corner in the room again, hopefully out of sight. Out of mind.

It felt like ages before the house fell silent again. You heard the doorknob wiggle, muffled voices coming from the otherside. Light filtered into the basement as the door creaked open. “After you, Sergeant,” a gruff voice huffs, a hint of teasing to the tone.

A short laugh followed the words before steps were coming down the stairs again, flashlights dancing over the walls as they descended. “Ohhhh hell, look at this, LT,” a second voice whispers, a light lingering on the drawings on the wall. Silence fell again as the sound of more boots started down the stairs, flashlights whipping around the room before one fell on your form. 

—-----------------------

Clearing the home was easy. The bastards inside weren’t expecting an attack for a while. A home far outside any city line would surely work as a temporary base, right?

They thought so at least. So when the Scotsman barged through the door followed by six others, the occupants weren’t prepared. The firefight was short. The men inside scrambling to get to their weapons as fast as possible. 

It was Roach who’d noticed the door to the basement, calling over the rest of the team. “What d’ya thinks down there?” Soap chuckles as Ghost takes a hand at picking the lock. “More guys? Prisoners they been keepin’?”

“If I had to take a guess, probably prisoners. Family who lived here was big in the political field here. Probably kept them as hostages for ransom,” Price says, gesturing for two of the guys to stand guard at the front and back doors. 

The door clicked open and slowly swung open with a nasty creak. “After you, Sergeant,” Ghost huffs, nudging the Scotsman forward. Soap let out a short laugh before starting into the dimly lit basement. Ghost close behind him. Soap’s flashlight scanned the floors and walls. He noticed dinosaurs and cars littering the floor around the bottom of the stairs. He initially thought nothing of it. They knew a young kid lived here. 

He was almost to the bottom as his light scanned over a big drawing of a home and a family of three drawn in chalk. 

He felt his heart drop at the image. Soap was no master in chalk or anything, but the drawing looked pretty new. “Ohhh hell, look at this LT,” he says, nudging the other. Ghost went rigid for a second before gesturing back up the stairs for the other three to come down quickly. 

Flashlights scoured the basement, Soap wandering towards the darkest part of the basement. His light danced over the stone floor before the body of a little boy was illuminated.

“Over here,” Soap calls out, almost missing the way the kid jerked in response to his words. Soap handed Price his gun before crouching down next to the boy. Your eyes were locked onto him, tear stains evident on your cheeks and fear clouding your eyes. “We’re here to help ya,” Soap says, trying to offer his hand to you.

“Back off the kid, Soap,” Ghost mutters. “He’s scared shitless.”

Soap let out a quiet, barely audible sigh as he stood back up and stepped back to join the rest of his team. 

Your eyes shot from man to man. Your breath was heavy in your chest and you could hear yourself wheezing because of it. “Where are my parents?” You almost sobbed. Your voice was hoarse, throat tight as you waited for an answer.

The men felt their hearts drop at the pure pain in your voice. This kid, no older than 11 or 12 had his life turned upside down in a matter of fifteen minutes just a week ago. 

It was Ghost who made the first, well technically second, advance towards you, much to the surprise of the rest of the team. Just as surprising was the way you sat up to be face to face with him as he crouched down. 

He pulled a small picture out of pocket and handed it to you. It was a picture of your parents and yourself that you’d never seen before. “I don’t know where your parents are, but I do know that if you remain here, you’ll never find them,” Ghost spoke lowly. Just loud enough for you to hear. 

You nodded in understanding, shoving the picture in your pocket as Ghost stood up. He went to turn back to the team but paused when your hand grabbed his. You avoided his gaze when he looked back at you but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he picked you up and maneuvered you onto his back. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, laying your head down on his back.

Ghost turned towards his team who were all gawking at the scene before them. “Get goin’ and quit starin’ at me like that,” he huffs, nodding towards the stairs before turning to speak to Roach, Gaz, and Soap. “Get the kid some clothes and we’re gettin’ out of here.”

“Aye, L.T,” Soap almost stutters, pushing Roach and Gaz towards the stairs. Price chuckled to himself before heading up the stairs after the three, rounding up the other two that he’d stationed up there. 

“What’s your name?” Ghost hears you ask quietly.

“They call me Ghost,” the man answers as he heads up the stairs. He felt you nod against his back and you fell silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”

You tell him your name, which he already knew but he wasn’t going to tell you that. That started a short and quiet conversation between the two of you. You asked how long he’d been in the military, where he was from, what his family was like and Ghost answered you and asked you the same questions in return. 

It was a stark contrast to what the 141 was used to. Ghost was generally quiet on these kinds of missions. “It’s gotta be the kid,” Gaz whispers to Soap who nods in agreement. 

“Yeah but what about this kid is different from others we’ve found?” Soap whispers back, rubbing his jaw as he watched you and Ghost interact. Gaz shrugged in response before Roach chimed in.

“Maybe he reminds him of a family member? Younger brother or nephew?” Roach suggests and it was like a lightbulb went off in the other two’s heads.

“That’s gotta be it,” Soap nods. “Does anyone know anythin’ ‘bout his family?” 

Gaz and Roach shake their heads and Soap sighs. He opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when he saw Ghost shoot a look over his shoulder at him.

“Quit chattin’. Be on guard. We’re still in hostile territory,” Price mutters, ignoring the noise of complaint the three made before begrudgingly doing what they were told.

It was your first time on an aircraft. You were glued to Ghost’s side, eyes locked on the floor in front of you. Soap had tried to get your attention a couple times to no avail. If you did make eye contact with him, you were quick to look away as quick as possible. 

The others didn’t have much luck either. Roach had tried to speak to you while Ghost was carrying you and all you’d done was bury your face into the fabric of Ghost’s shirt. 

Price had been the most outward about it, asking to actually carry you so give Ghost a break. That was the only time you’d spoken to anyone besides Ghost. “No,” was all that came from your mouth as you shook your head. Ghost had chuckled and told Price he was good to carry you the whole way.

Ghost had given you his hand to basically ‘play’ with. You braided his fingers, bending them and whatever else you could do to keep your mind calm. The rest of the team couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces at the sight.

Who would’ve guessed. The big bad Ghost had actually a big softie.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

My Fair Lady's Maid (Regency!Aemond x Lady's Maid!Reader)

Part 3: With a Little Bit of Luck

Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: none

Point of View: Limited third person omniscient

Author's Note: Finally had a burst of inspiration for this last night, and here we are!

With a Little Bit of Luck

Miss Doolittle stood at the base of the stairs in her little basement apartment. It wasn’t really an apartment, even if she’d lived there for nearly three years. In truth, it was a cellar. The owner of the house above had graciously put a small bed in it when she first rented it, but he also continued to keep his winter stores and several chests of assorted junk there, taking up nearly half the space.

Still, it wasn’t so bad. Back then, when she hadn’t wanted to go out, see anyone, or do anything, those chests of junk had entertained her. And she loved the smell of the dried apples. Even if it was small, it was cozy. There was enough room for everything she owned in the world, which, admittedly, wasn’t much.

All of it was now stuffed into her rucksack; still, the bag wasn’t full. It likely would have been if she’d been able to buy that clock at the market yesterday, but she didn’t want to think about that now. She was already too sad.

It didn’t make sense, her sadness. She was leaving this cave to go and live in a manor house. She would never be woken by rats again, and she would have enough money to buy a hundred clocks. But this had been her home for the past three years.

She squared her chin and adjusted the strap of her rucksack. She’d started over before. It was how she ended up here. And this time… this time would be easier, she knew it.

So, she walked up the stairs and out of that little basement, hoping she had enough time to run one last errand before the cart from Kingswood came to take her to her new home.

The village green, like her apartment, could not truly be called its name. Not since the village council decided to put gravel paths all over it and plant all kinds of trees, bushes, and flowers in most of the blank spaces between the paths, while others were left empty for vendors to set up for market day. It was pretty, but it made crossing the green and finding the person she was looking for even harder.

Luckily, he seemed to be in a good mood today. All she had to do to find him was follow the sound of his fiddle.

“Egg?” she called when she came to a patch of trees and bushes that were now big enough to obstruct her view. She knew he was somewhere in there, but she couldn’t see him.

His bow scratched against his fiddle before falling silent. “Is that you, Little Girl?”

She wanted to protest the nickname but didn’t. He’d been calling her that since she was a little girl, and he was a vagabond teenage boy who played the prettiest music she’d ever heard. “It’s me.”

The bushes rattled, and a moment later, the man Miss Doolittle knew as ‘Egg’ burst into the open and hugged her so hard she nearly fell over.

“God, am I happy to see you!” He started spinning her back and forth, and several trinkets spilled out of her bag. “I thought I’d missed my chance to say goodbye!”

She finally gave up resisting and smiled as she hugged him back. “Not yet. They aren’t picking me up ‘til noon.” Which left them a little under a quarter-hour to catch up before she had to meet the Kingswood coachman in front of the church.

Egg finally set her down, running a hand over his shaved head. She’d never actually asked if he shaved it, but he was too young to be bald, and she’d seen several nicks on the back of his head that looked like they came from a razor. He immediately bent down to pick up the knick-knacks he’d accidentally forced her to spill. “If I’d known you were leaving Rosby, I would have come back sooner. Why didn’t you send a letter?”

“Where would I send it? You only stay in the same place for a week at most.” Besides, she didn’t have much spare money to spend on sending a letter. “You leave as soon as your bar tab gets too high.”

“True,” Egg admitted. He finally finished tucking her trinkets away, then strapped his fiddle to his back and offered his arm. “And it seems I’ll have to add Kingsgrave to the rotation if I ever want to see my Little Girl again, even though it’s quite far.”

She looked over at him, confused. “I’m not goin’ to Kingsgrave. I’m goin’ to Kingswood.”

He stopped suddenly, tugging on her arm hard to get her to face him. He wasn’t smiling anymore. She didn’t know if she’d ever seen Egg not smiling before. It unsettled her.

“You’re going to work at Kingswood?”

She nodded.

“What position?”

“I’ll be a lady’s maid.”

“To Lady Helaena?”

“Yes.”

He bit his lips. He wasn’t just not smiling. He was angry. His eyes had grown dark, and his brow furrowed.

“Is that bad? Have you heard bad things about Lady Helaena? I know they say she’s odd, but I haven’t heard anyth – ”

“I have no quarrel with Helaena, no. I just…”  He again ran a hand over his head, his fingers digging into the skin in a way Miss Doolittle was sure was painful. He tucked his chin in for a moment and took a deep breath before looking back up. He was smiling again, but it was strained. “I’m just worrying about my Little Girl. Ignore me. Helaena is very kind.”

She sighed in relief, slumping into his side as they began walking again. “That’s good. I’ve been lookin’ forward to this for so long, I’d hate if it ended up a nightmare.”

Egg looked at her with a brow raised. “You’ve been looking forward to this?”

“Well, yeah.” His tone sounded doubtful. Did he not think she could do the job? “I know I’ve never had an actual job before, but I do now. I’ll work real hard, I swear it. I’ll be a proper lady in no time, you’ll see.”

“I’ve no doubt you can be a proper lady,” Egg said while ruffling her hair. “I just don’t know if I want you to be. I like you very well, just as you are, I’ll have you know.”

She liked herself too, mostly. Sometimes she wished she was taller or had prettier hair. Every once in a while she took a dislike to the color of her eyes, but it usually faded. Whenever she had to decide whether to pay rent or buy a nice warm meal at the pub, she wished she was someone else entirely.

But if she were taller, it would have been hard to climb down the small staircase to her cellar. If her hair was different, Harry wouldn’t have told her how much he liked it almost every time she saw him. And if her eyes were a different color, she wouldn’t be reminded of her mother every time she caught her reflection.

“I’m not going to become a whole new person,” she declared. Egg looked dubious as he led her to sit on a stone bench across the road from the church. “Just… more refined. Now stop griping at me and talk about something else!”

Egg threw his head back in a great, wide smile as he laughed. “Only since it’s your last day in Rosby, Little Girl. What do you want to talk about?”

The first topic that came to mind was the two men from yesterday, the kind one and the brute. But that was too maddening. “You know about Lady Helaena, right?” He nodded. “Then tell me about the rest of them?”

He hesitated for a long while before he bit his cheek and began. “They’re the same as all the others. The lord of the house has a stick shoved so far up his ass he can’t bend over. The grandfather is a desperate social climber. The th.. second son is something of a rake, but good-hearted. Helaena though, she’s a good girl. Strange, but good. She’s very kind, like you. I think you’ll get along. … How do you feel about insects?”

Miss Doolittle laughed. “I’ve lived in a dirty basement for three years. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Egg said with a secretive smile.

God, she was going to miss him. His humor, his music, that smile. It had been very easy to fall in love with him when she was a girl, though she’d since grown out of it. He was one of her dearest friends, but far too… Egg for her to ever truly love or marry him. Still, she was envious of how happy he always was, even with no money in his pockets.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She dug through her knapsack to find the little coin purse she’d made from a beautiful curtain Mrs. Cunningham discarded when it was torn. She extracted the two crowns and one half-crown she had left over from what that horrible man had thrown at her the day before. “These are for you.”

Egg’s blue eyes went wide. “Where the hell did you get that?”

She thought for a moment how much to tell him before deciding on simply, “A customer.”

His surprise melted into mischief. “What kind of customer?”

“What, exactly, are you implying?”

“Nothing! Just wondering if you’d decided to sell something other than flowers, and if so, how much you charge? Because I’ll give these right back if…”

“You’re disgusting!” she shrieked as she hit him with her bag over and over until he finally held his hands up in concession.

“You have my sincere apology.” He righted his mussed clothes, then looked at her. “But really, Little Girl, why are you giving me these?”

Because just looking at them makes me want to vomit. She sighed. “Because I don’t need it – I’ll be making my own money soon. You need it, though.”

Egg’s eyes turned thoughtful and soft. It was the kind of look she would once have swooned over. “You’re too kind. I worry you’ll lose that at Kingswood. That place and those people will wring it out of you if you let them. Promise me you won’t?”

“I promise,” she whispered, dropping the coins into his outstretched hand. She wrapped her hand around his, closing his fingers around the money. “If you promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

He laughed, shaking their joined hands. “I’ll do my best. But with a little bit of luck, I’ll always have people like you around to help me out.”

She started to chide him, to warn him that he’d eventually need to learn to rely on himself, even if she knew he’d only laugh it off. But a sharp whistle and the crack of a whip sounded from the end of the street, and both their heads turned to find its source.

A two-horse cart had turned onto the main road. Not an unusual sight in itself, especially for a market town. But it wasn’t market day. And it was no ordinary cart, but one she’d only ever seen in illustrations in books. The cart of daring gentlemen and rakes. Its back wheels were twice the size of those in the front and carried seats made of green-painted wood and black leather that gleamed in the sunlight.

“Of course, they sent the fucking phaeton,” Egg murmured, giving a name to the vehicle. He stood quickly, pulling her up with him, and embraced her tightly. “Good luck, Little Girl. I’ll miss you.”

Then, he left. Releasing her from his grasp so swiftly she stumbled back a step. By the time she’d caught her breath, he was gone, without even the music of his fiddle to hint at where he’d gone.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered to the wind, hoping it would carry her words to him.

Only a few hours later, she was stepping out of the cart and onto the gravel drive of the Kingswood Estate.

The estate itself sprawled across half the woods, according to the coachman, Arryk, who had informed her when they officially crossed onto the property miles ago. The house, a term which seemed to Miss Doolittle to be a massive understatement, was near the center of it, within a smaller, but still enormous, gated park.

It was beautiful, with pale stone walls coated with ivy, gleaming glass windows framed with iron, and surrounded by flowers of every shape and color. And it was to be her new home.

Well, she was to be one of its servants. But still. Servants could call it home, too.

But what servants could not do was enter through the main doors. Instead, Arryk led her around the side of the house and through a smaller, much dirtier door into a stiflingly hot kitchen.

A woman who appeared to be around two hundred years old – the cook, presumably – barked orders at several kitchen maids with such ferocity it was a wonder that fire spewed only from the oven and not her mouth. As young men in fine suits filed into the room and began picking up silver trays laden with steaming food, the woman took a deep breath and started yelling at them instead.

Arryk leaned closer to Miss Doolittle. “Don’t do anything to get on Cook’s bad side,” he whispered, what sounded like genuine fear wavering in his voice. “She’ll roast you alive.”

As if she had heard him, the cook whirled around on him, her warm brown eyes blazing like hot coals. “What are you standing around for, Mr. Cargyll?” she bellowed. “And who’s this little waif?”

“Lady Helaena’s new maid.” His voice cracked like a boy’s.

The old woman huffed as those burning eyes examined her intently. “Put her in Mrs. Rivers’ sitting room and get out. I’ll not have you tracking horse shit in my kitchen.”

Arryk nodded hastily, the movement like that of a soldier accepting a command from his general. He took two steps forward, indicating Miss Doolittle should follow when he and everyone in the kitchen froze where they were.

Miss Doolittle followed their stunned gazes to the base of a narrow staircase and the two people who had just descended.

The first was a woman, neither old nor young, with deep black hair that flowed down her back in a long, silky sheet. Though she wore the dress of a servant, the keyring hanging from her waist indicating that she was likely the housekeeper, there was a certain power in her green gaze that made Miss Doolittle think the woman had been a queen in some other life.

But the thought did not last long, for her eyes drifted to the man standing just behind the housekeeper.

Shit.

The finest man she’d ever seen. With silver hair, one eye of crushing blue, one a milky white, and an angry red scar running across his face.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She hadn’t even met Lady Helaena, and she was about to be sacked.

Or, judging by the wicked delight in the man’s eyes and his crooked smile, perhaps she was about to be eaten alive.

The housekeeper turned to face the man, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Lord Aemond, do you know this girl?”

Lord Aemond.

Forget being sacked or eaten. He could simply have her executed. It may even be a mercy, to spare her the humiliation that burned within her like a thousand raging bonfires.

He turned to the housekeeper, the movement too graceful and smooth. “I’m afraid I do.” He looked back at Miss Doolittle. No, he looked past her. “Mr. Cargyll, I will not be needing you to take me to Rosby tomorrow, after all.”

Then, he did look at her, and the cold in his eyes felt like an icicle shoved through her heart. She wanted to run. To scream. To shrink into nothing just to escape him. She wanted to run all the way back to Rosby, find Egg, and beg him to take her far, far away from here.

But she remained where she was, under the hateful gaze of her new employer, unable to so much as blink as he smiled a ruthless, joyless smile. “I’ve been hoping to see you again, flower girl. I have a proposition for you.”

Egg’s joyous, carefree voice echoed in her mind.

With a little bit of luck.

He’d never specified whether it was good luck or bad luck.

[xrag-dollx]

𝑩Ü𝑪𝑲 𝑫𝑰𝑪𝑯 (𝑩𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓)

~ Kai Anderson x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Reader gets humiliated by Kai after he failed his night of a thousand tates. Reader's getting punished for it.

WORD COUNT: 1,980

WARNINGS: smut, rough and unprotected sex, public sex, knife play, Kai being a dominant ass :) (not requested if you're under 18!)

A/N: got inspired by Rammstein's song "Bück dich!" sooo I had to write something Kai related (he gives me huge Rammstein vibes ngl) Also this is my first ever Evan character fic 🙃

"Bück dich", befehl ich dir Wende dein Antlitz ab von mir Dein Gesicht ist mir egal Bück dich"

"Bend over! is what I command you

Turn your face away from me

I do not care about your face

bend over!"

The last days were hard for you, at least being together with Kai. He had no success in his upcoming disaster for his „night of a thousand Tates“, so he had to re-think his strategy. It was quite time consuming for him to re-construct a whole new plan and, of course, nerve-wrecking. So he was treating you basically like an object for the past few days. Yet, you got used to it. Was there a desire inside of you to burn him alive? Yes. Do you still love him? Yes. But you just couldn’t let go of him. You just didn’t really know why. Was it because he was so charismatic? So damn attractive? He had you with a flick of his wrist the first time you saw him…

 It was last summer as he held one of his public speeches for his election as a councillor. You were immediately hypnotised by his whole presence, the way he spoke, the way he gestured along his speech…he was simply mesmerizing. You believed every single word of his, everything he made up. That’s when you fell down a spiral of delusions. He made you feel better, he promised you a successful life, actually being worthy! But now, you’re just worthless…

He was dragging you by your hair downstairs his basement as you went on all fours, crawling down the cold and creaking stairs. This will surely leave some bruises on your knees, but as if that wasn’t just the beginning of Kai’s fit of rage.

„SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!“

He yelled at you as he violently tucked your hair by every line he spoke. The immense pain on your scalp was running through your every nerve of your body, as far as you still had some and your nerve system didn’t go numb yet by the pain you received on a daily basis. Tears of pain and inner rage were streaming down the sides of your eyes, leaving stains of black mascara on each side of your cheeks. You went silent completely, as you weren’t quite sure if he’d kill you in the next moment. You couldn’t help but let out a few huffs as your teeth clenched to restrain the pain.

Tears blurred your sight as he dragged you to the middle of the room as you got surrounded by his followers wearing their silly clownmasks. Kai chuckles in amusement, his head was tilted to the side as he looks at you with a dirty grin…

„Look at her... Such a dirty, little whore…you get what you deserve. After all, you’re the reason we failed the night of a thousand Tates. You’ll pay for that...“

You kneeled onto the wooden floor as your head was hanging down. You remained silent.  You just wanted to avoid to look at Kai nor his filthy followers. Just puppets of Kai‘s and victims of their pitiful selves…

„Now… wanna give me an explanation?“

Kai looked at you… you could feel his impatience was roaming the room. Tension was building up. But you refused to speak. Not even a minute was passing by and Kai pulled your head up by your hair in an instant, as he forcefully made you look at him.

„Our whore isn’t speaking…hmh…“

He threw you onto the floor as you were sobbing and still refusing to talk to him.

„Suit the action to the word, the word to the action!“

Kai spoke out as he raised his hand and snapped with his fingers as madness was coming over him…

„Chair!“

Kai demanded as one of his followers handed him a chair as he was placing it in the middle of the dimmed room as light spots shone from the ceiling, giving it an oppressive atmosphere.

He took a sit. The silence was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. It exchanged the oxigen you needed to breathe. He pulled you up by your hair as you grunted, he pulled you over his lap, your blank ass facing him as it got exposed by your lose skirt. You could feel the dimmed light beaming down as it was just right above you, it made you feel like you were an exhibit in a museum. It made you uncomfortable. So did the followers, standing around Kai and you in a circle like mannequins, as if they were about to stare holes into your flesh.

„You won’t speak…so this will be your misery you’ve put yourself in.

You could feel how Kai’s hand prowled over your exposed skin, as he softly trails over your ass with his cold fingers. He closely leaned into your ear, his breath just stroking the delicate skin…

„You went away with it for too long…you’re disappointing…you’re worthless…you’re nothing, you hear me?“

His voice was so low and calm, still so terrifying. It creeps into your ear as it oscillates with a soft reverb. You were waiting for his next move. Maybe you’re going to die today, you already prepared yourself mentally for it.

„I’ll say it one time, and one time only. Don’t you dare to look at me. If you do, this’ll be your last day. Am I clear?“

Your blood froze as he spoke out these sentences. You knew he could be serious. But maybe he was fooling you. Something he enjoys to do to torture somebody’s nerves to death.

You shook your head in agreement. You could hear a soft chuckle escaping his throat. He reached into his pocket of his jeans as he pulled out a jackknife. You could hear the prominent ‘click‘ sound as he flipped the knife.

„I’m gonna call you ‚whore‘ from now on…fits better after all, doesn’t  it?“

His stupid small talk only made your stomach turn. You could actually feel how a dirty smile formed on his lips. You’d rather play a reverse card on him only to stab him with his knife. Then you’d be a free woman. You thought. But instead, you kept as silent as possible, not to upset the blue haired psycho any further. You could feel the cold blade was grazing tantalizing over your ass, and with a swift move, he cut your panties on one side, and one cut through the middle part. He removed the garment from your body as your shivered, dropping it onto the carpeted floor.

„Oh? What do we have here? A needy whore?“

He spoke as he spotted your aroused entrance, as it was begging to get fucked by Kai. But you couldn’t help but to pull yourself together not to make any noise. All you could do was to stare onto the floor…what was his next move? You thought. It could get worse, definitely. You were waiting for it. You reflexively wanted to turn your head up to Kai but there was that one damn demand of his…and you didn’t want to die yet, so you kept silent instead. You felt how Kai was spreading your ass cheeks, as he spits directly onto your asshole. You were slightly trembling, as you felt how the warm liquid was touching your exposed skin. You knew what he was about to do…you knew it would contain pain…

„On your knees and bend over, now!“

He spoke in a loud and demanding manner, but you didn’t move, not a bit…and it made Kai lose his mind…

„I SAID NOW, YOU FUCKING WHORE!“

He shouted as his usual bariton voice became scarily angry. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as he pulled you off his lap to throw you onto the floor and made you go onto your knees as he basically forced you to do it.

With trembling arms and knees, which held you up with the last strength you had, you forced yourself not to faint as a mixture of sweat and tears was running down your cheeks.

„AND DON’T YOU FUCKIN‘ LOOK AT ME!“

He shouted as he undid the buckle of his belt, removing it from his jeans, as you heard the belt sliding through the belt loops.

Your mind wandered though hundreds of possibilities of what he was about to do…is he going to-

But ‘til you could finish your spoiled thought he already did it; he placed one firm and painful whiplash onto your bare ass as the pain electrified your nerve system. You cried out in pain as you collapsed….you could feel the sheer bliss of Kai’s oh so beloved clown puppets (as they were not more than that), you could actually feel how they were laughing internally, as they weren’t even moving one bit.

„GET UP! C’MON!“

He hissed as he harshly grabbed your tousled hair, using it to put you back to your previous humiliating position, as you did so as you positioned yourself back on all fours.

„Tss…you’re so pathetic…“

He murmured as he was slowly walking back and forth in front of you in such a teasing way as he looked down at you in a rather pitying manner, a smile almost invisible yet visible graced his lips as his gaze did not leave you for even a nick of a second.

„…You dissapointed me…“

Kai spoke while he unzipped his trousers, as he stopped in front of you, his eyes, pitch black were looking at you with such anger, he was able to kill you just with his gaze if he wanted to. You knew you couldn’t look at him so you carefully listened to his degrading words instead.

„You cannot destroy me…“

You heard him speak while rustling noises filled the room; Kai took off his pants along with his boxers as he now placed himself behind you.

„But I’ll destroy you…“

With these words he rammed his rock hard dick right inside of your asshole, your mouth was agape as you let out a drawn out moan.

„Yeah, moan for me you stupid whore, take it all… you want it so badly, right?“

He huffed as he mercilessly pounded into you like an animal, as he grabbed your hair for friction.

„Hmmh…you’re so worthless…so…ugh…fuck…“

Kai groaned as he fucked you ruthless from behind, as he grabbed your ass with his veiny hand, while his other hand was pulling your hair towards him.

„Repeat after me… I’m such a failure“

He spoke as he wanted you to blame you for everything. You’re the reason he failed his masterplan. But everything you wanted to do was to stop Kai from the worst before things went out of hand …He was just going crazy. But you just obeyed, or you’d get killed.

„I-I’m such a…uggh…failure..hmmh..“

You breathed between each thrust, as the pain made your body numb. Sweaty straints of hair decorated your face.

„Yes, you are…argh…shit…I’m gonna -„

He couldn’t even finish his sentence as he reached his orgasm as you felt how his warm seed filled you up, Kai loosened his grip from your hair as he pulled his dick out of your asshole, leaving you unsatisfied with physical and psychial pain. You collapsed onto the floor as your breath was trembling. The circle of Kai’s followers split apart as they marched upstairs and left the basement without a word. Kai put his jeans back on, as he was using his foot to flip you onto your back as you were totally wasted, lying on the floor sobbing and crying out of pain you received by Kai. Kai couldn’t care less about your condition, as you were one of his many mannequins. He took you for granted for his own pleasure.

„This is what you get for not obeying…whore.“

He spoke, his voice…dark and frightening. He spit right into your face before he left, leaving you on your own. You wiped the tears mixed with Kai’s saliva out of your face, thoughts were passing your mind like bullets of regret...

 Why do you still love him?

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

(Wanna say thank you to @fear-is-truth and @doll3tt33 for being my biggest inspirations ❤🙏🏻 you gave me the courage to write 😽)

Gonna tag my favourite blogs @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re , @silverzoomies , @taintandviolent

《 gifs belong to their owner, xrag-dollx all rights reserved. Copying my work is prohibited》

[marleyybluu]

Oscar Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Content warning: swearing, readers (now ex/husband) is still a piece of shit, Oscar gets a little protective, another half ass ending cus I ran out of words, lmk if i miss any. another untitled one cus i suck.

A/N: this is not necessarily part 2, I guess it could be read as a stand alone… idk lol. But this is a part of the 'Another Man’s Treasure' universe.

(I think I've used this picture before but oh well. not mines though)

You let out a heavy, exasperated sigh after turning your car off. Another long shift at the hospital had kicked your ass, you had no energy, just ready to take off your scrubs and dip yourself in a hot bath. Thank goodness your kids would be with their father this weekend, you just needed a break. You decided not to sit and rot in the car as usual, you grabbed all your things and carried them to the door. You unlocked your door and turned the knob pushing your way inside and immediately noticed something wrong.

You look over at the shoe rack and notice your kids' shoes still sitting in their spots, you close the door and your eyes dart in confusion. "Naomi... Malakai... Nathan." You cautiously called out, the sound of their feet thumping against the carpeted floors upstairs, you dropped your belongings and waited at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hi, Mommy." Your youngest greeted. "Hi, guys, what-what's going on? You're going to Dad's this weekend. Who's watching you? Grandma?"

Naomi shook her head. "Oscar, we called him to pick us up."

"Yeah, dad didn't show up." Nathan chimed in. Your blood boiled, your nostrils flared in hot anger. This was his second time missing pick-up, you could excuse him for being late and that was you being generous but completely disregarding your agreement was not only disrespectful of you but of your children. Your children who are always so excited to see him and tell him about their week at school, your children who write a list of things they can do with him in the short span of 72 hours. Your eyes softened at them. "Why didn't you call me? You know I would've dropped everything for you guys."

They shrugged. "We didn't want you to get mad."

"Mad?? You guys this is not your fault, are you kidding? Look, just... head back upstairs, I will call your father. Okay?"

The three of them nodded and jogged back to their respective rooms. You took your hair down from its ponytail and scratched your scalp, freeing it from its current state of stress, you groaned walking into the kitchen to see a pile of dishes in the sink and spilling onto the counter. You were not getting to those tonight, way too tired. You heard the whistling of a familiar tune coming up the stairs of the basement, Oscar flicked off the light and stopped whistling when he noticed you, he presented an uneasy smile on his face. A bit scared that you'd be mad he didn't call you when the kids' dad didn't show up. But you tilted your head and smiled earnestly at him.

"Hi, baby." Sleep was very apparent in your voice. "Hola, mi amor." He stretched out his arms and you fell into them, your head resting on his strong chest, his heartbeat against your ear you close your eyes as the hypnotic rhythm brings you a bit of peace. He kissed the top of your head. "How was your day?" You asked. He chuckled. "Good, I missed you though. Made you some food, did the laundry, and I'll do the dishes soon."

"No, it's okay, I'll do them tomorrow morning." You foolishly protested, still not used to having someone else actually do some chores. He sucked his teeth. "No, you won't because they'll be clean by tonight."

You smiled. "Thank you." You whispered. "It's just dishes baby."

You pull your head back to look up at him. "You know what I mean. Thanks for... taking them. Ugh, in my next life, I'll know not to choose an idiot to be the father of my children." Oscar let go of you so you could fish for your dinner, you popped open the microwave to see a plate prepped and ready for you, all you had to do was heat it up. While the buzz of the microwave continued in the background you pulled out your phone from your back pocket, you dialled your ex-husband's number, your nails tapping impatiently on the counter waiting for him to answer.

"Hey, you know what to do." Beep.

You hung up and called again, if he wanted you to act out, oh you'd act out.

On the fourth call attempt, you finally heard noise on the end. "Hello?" He sounded groggy like he'd just woken up. Oh, poor thing.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

He yawned. "What are you talking about?"

You scoffed beginning to pace back and forth in the kitchen you peaked past the arched entrance to see if you had any little listening ears before you let the words fly out of your mouth like a sailor, when it came to him your words were unlady-like. "What the fuck am I talking about? You know, I threw you a pity party by agreeing to shared custody when God knows I could have full, I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain you fucking asshole."

You could hear the amusement in his voice like getting you riled up got him off. "I can't do it this weekend, I told you."

You gritted your teeth remembering his excuse and you telling him that you didn't care. "Oh, yes, how could I forget? Poor you, you can't go out with the boys if you have responsibilities. Meanwhile, I take my children everywhere I go."

"Unless your little boy toy watches them."

"And yet, he's still doing a better job than you." You bit. "Look," You took a deep breath. "Us separating was hard enough on them, don't make this harder by not fulfilling the one thing you're required to do."

He could be heard soughing dramatically, and if you knew him well enough he was rubbing his eyes with frustration crawling under his skin. "Fine, I'll come get them tomorrow."

"Good." You hung up and tossed your phone on the counter with attitude. Your fingers found their usual spot on your temples, you rubbed them with stress written all over your body. This divorce was supposed to make everything easier, no contact with each other unless it involved your kids and yet he was still getting under your skin. A reassuring hand rested on your back. "Go sit, I'll bring the food."

"No, it's-"

"If you tell me no one more time we're gonna have a problem." A playful warning but a warning nonetheless. You put your hands up in surrender and follow his instructions going to the dining room to sit and wait for him. It didn't take long for him to pop up with your food. You looked up at him with puppy eyes and pursed your lips, he leaned down planting a kiss. "I'm gonna get your pyjamas out and get your stuff ready for bed."

You cooed, "You have no idea how much I love you."

He smiled pridefully. "I love you too, ma."

— —

6 PM.

You checked your phone just to make sure, and yeah, it was 6 p.m. The bright and burning sun was disappearing behind the horizon, the orange and pink hue replaced the blue sky, it was getting darker by the minute and he was still a no-show. Your phone was pressed against your ear as you took a peak at your kids as they sprawled out on the couch watching a movie with Oscar, you smiled softly. "You really don't mind? I'm not trynna get rid of them or anything but their bags have been packed since last night and I just feel so bad." You explained to your mom on the phone.

Oscar turned his head in an attempt to eavesdrop on your conversation. Naomi snuggled herself closer to him, he kissed the top of her head, he'd ask you what happened later.

"Okay, thanks mom, I'll let them know."

You left your phone on the counter and joined your family in the living room with a presentable smile on your face. "Who wants to go see grandma?" They all turned their heads, smiles stretching from ear to ear. "She'll be here soon, you can finish the movie don't worry." They nodded and turned back to the screen, their little bodies wiggling with excitement and anticipation, they loved your mom, she let them get away with anything.

Oscar was still looking at you, you blushed sending him an air kiss and he winked in return. He was first on the to-do list once your gremlins were gone.

Half an hour passed and there was a knock at the door, Malakai was the first to run to the door to let your mom inside. They greeted her before running upstairs to get their belongings. "Thanks again Mom."

"No problem and you two are okay with me dropping them off at school on Monday?"

You nodded. The three musketeers came back downstairs dropping their bags on the floor to hug, kiss and say goodbye to the both of you. Naomi takes a longer time with Oscar's hug. "Can you carry me to the car?" You heard her whisper, he agreed and grabbed her bag taking her outside. And as you stood in the door frame watching him help her inside, all the anger you had from last night and today had seemed to thaw out. You counted yourself as lucky to have found a man who took care of your children as if they were his own, double the luck that they loved him just as much. , sometimes you'd have to pry Naomi off of him when he had to go to work.

Your mom honked her horn and you waved them off blowing kisses until they were out of your view. Oscar walked up the steps, hunched over and looking at you through his brows, you knew what was coming. "Diaz." You warned. He scooped you up throwing you over his shoulder, you squealed and giggled as he carried you into the house. He kicked the door close with his foot, "I'm bout to fuck you up." Such a pleasant threat, especially with the addition of him spanking you. You laughed breathlessly as he tossed you onto the couch, finding himself between your legs.

You cupped his face pulling him in, your lips melting together in a needy chase, his hands wandering your body, making their way inside your shirt. His fingertips tickling your bare skin getting closer... and closer to-

Knock! Knock!

For fuck sake.

"Ignore it." He groaned. You sucked your teeth. "They probably forgot something."

He sighed kissing you once more before you got up leaving him with his blue balls, you opened the door and the smile on your face vanished. "You're kidding. You are fucking kidding me."

"Oh, not happy to see me?" Your ex-husband smugged tilting his head. You were in disbelief, at the audacity of this man to stand on your doorstep with that stupid grin on his face as if nothing was wrong. "I'm not actually. Why are you here?" You asked crossing your arms. He chuckled. "To get my kids?"

Your eyebrows raised in shock. You looked down at your Apple Watch to make sure the time was correct. And it was. "It is almost 7 PM, what time were you supposed to be here?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"It does fucking matter, Anthony! You said you'd be here at twelve, then you called at twelve saying you'd be here at two. Your children have had their bags packed since last night!" You said raising your voice. You pinched the bridge of your nose. "They're not here. So you can go." You proceeded to close the door but he had quickly wedged his foot in the frame. You looked up at him. "Anthony." You warned, your nostrils flared. That was Oscar's cue to get up and see what was going on, he opened the door and stood behind you with a scowl on his face. Anthony rolled his eyes.

"You couldn't wait to move another man into my house huh?"

"And it's never been more peaceful."

He looked past the both of you. "Where are my kids?"

"They're out."

"Where?"

"Don't worry about it." You sassed. "They at your mom's? 'Cause I'll just go pick them up from there."

"You will not."

He took a step forward causing you to take one back. "Watch me."

Oscar stepped in the middle of both of you, sizing up Anthony. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

Now this was a side you'd yet to see of Oscar. In your many conversations of getting to know each other, he'd felt comfortable enough to inform you of his old life. How he was the leader of an infamous street gang, Los Santos, even showed you pictures. You never wanted to say it out loud, afraid you'd make him feel weird, but seeing him in his cholo attire, the gun tucked in his waist and his shirt lifted up or sometimes off... oh it did something to you. You'd never ask him to delve back into his old ways, but you'd have little fantasies about what he used to be like.

Aggressive.

Rough.

Possessive.

"Nobody's scared of you. Some little bitch from Fiji, you just got here, don't know shit about shit."Anthony challenged, but you knew him well enough. He'd never been in a fight his whole life, you could put a gun next to him he'd piss his pants. Oscar half smiled taking another step forward. Anthony stepped back.

"I may have just got here but at least I know how to pick up my kids on time."

Your heart skipped. My kids.

"Your-"

"I know not to fucking lie to their mother about what time I'm coming to get 'em, I know not to disappoint them because the look on their faces is heartbreaking."

Anthony stuttered backwards, further down the steps and closer to his car. "And I know, that if you go to their grandmother's house and fuck up their weekend, I'll knock your teeth down your throat, pendejo."

You could see your ex-husband swallow any comebacks he had tried to come up with, the slight fear in his eyes as they darted to you as a plea for help but you just crossed your arms and shrugged. You weren't gonna help him. "Get the fuck out my face," Oscar growled. Anthony scurried off so fast you swore you saw smoke under his feet. His tires screeched as he pulled out of your driveway and down the street.

Oscar came back inside, trailing off to the kitchen. You closed the front door and followed him like a lost puppy. He reached into the fridge for one of his Corona’s and popped off the top. You bit your lip. "¿Que pasa?" He asked bringing his drink to his lips. You shrugged. "I think that was a solid first meeting."

He laughed. "Me too."

You leaned over the counter dragging your nail from side to side. "Sooo... was that Oscar or was that Spooky?" He playfully rolled his eyes and looked away. "If I have to go back to Spooky for you, I'll do it."

Your heart fluttered. "Any time?"

"Mhm."

You walked over to him, gently grabbing his hand and guiding him over to the steps and up the stairs. "You think Spooky can show out for one night?"

He pulled his hand from you and smacked your ass.

"Absolutamente, mi amor."

if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love, see you in the next one🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

tags who might be interested: @luxaphrodevotee

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 1: (Caramel Apple) Vincent Sinclair

Welcomer everyone to day 1! There's not much to say that I haven't already so I hope you all enjoy day 1 as well as the other fics I have prepared for this month! <3 Notes: Minors DNI, Canon typical violence if any. Vincent used sign language in this, the sign language will be in Italics. Support me: KO-FI

The half rotted door to Vincent's basement workshop groaned out a long winded squeak when you pushed it open. You grabbed it before it could slam against the wall at the top of the stairs. It was about 2am and you could never be to sure if Vincent had fallen asleep down in the workshop or not.

You stepped on each stair one at a time. You had been down to the basement so many times in the middle of the night you had the spots that creaked memorized and you knew how to meticulously step around them or at least cause the least noise. You counted each stair in your head until you reach the bottom step, you peered around the dimly lit workshop before your eyes landed on your target.

"Vince"

A soft, near whisper cut through the silence. A white masked face shot up from where he was sitting. His shoulders untensed and he quickly rose from his seat, wax project quickly forgotten on the table in front of him as he made his way over to where you were standing.

"I came to get you, It's like 2:30 in the morning Vin."

Vincent froze for a split second, his eyes darting to the usually wrong digital clock he kept by his work space. Years prior Vincent didn't care when he finished work, most nights sleeping in his workshop for lack of having any real reason to go back to the house. It all changed when you fell into his lap, his muse, his reason.

"Sorry, Clock never works right, meant to come home hours ago."

One of the greatest things about you, Vincent had decided, was that you had taught him sign language. When the two of you had first met Vincent hated not having a way to communicate besides writing messy, barley legible scribbles on a piece of paper. Though to be fair you didn't want to talk much to the man who was once your captor when you had first ventured into Ambrose all those years ago.

Bo had sworn to him you were only getting close to try and escape. Bo had yelled, screamed and bitched about how much time Vincent was spending with you, how every time Vincent would let you out, or go to see you that he was putting Ambrose at risk.

Vincent didn't really care though, having grown up with it his entire life he was used to Bo's incessant yelling about nothing of any real substance. Eventually and very, very begrudgingly, Bo relented and you were integrated into daily life in Ambrose.

"Vince?"

Vincent jolted, realizing his mind had wandered. He signed you an apology and then motioned for your hand.

"Wow your actually listening and coming to bed? I'm honored Vince"

Vincent rolled his eyes, and you could tell his face under his mask held something akin to a "Really?" expression. You drag him along by his hand, leading him up the stairs and out of the wax museum into the cold Louisiana night.

"I saved you a plate of dinner I can heat up when we get to the house"

"You don't have to do that"

"Why wouldn't I? You haven't eaten like all day"

"I've eaten"

"A granola bar that was probably expired from the gas station doesn't count"

Vincent shrugged again, He had a terrible habit of taking care of not taking care of himself and he knew you knew as well as he did. You shot him a smile and weaved your fingers together as the two of you walked home. Vincent pulled his hand away to sign something quickly.

"You're such a mother hen"

"If wanting you to be taken care of makes me a mother hen, then a mother hand I shall be"

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as Vincent slotted his hand back into yours and walked the rest of the way home. He knew you'd heat up his dinner plate, tsk at him for not eating and tell him to start taking better care of himself. He knew that he would nod but wouldn't listen and he knew that you knew he would do exactly that but at the end of the day you would never really mind.

Vincent liked being taking care of, you knew he liked being taken care of. If he wanted to call you a mother hen, then a mother hen you would be.

[patheticdarling]

Doubt

Summary: We all know how it went last time Steve fell in love, well everyone except Y/N, hence why she had no issue confessing her feelings to her boyfriend. But Steve’s anxiety has a habit of getting the best of him. 

Warnings: angst/relationship doubts/fluff/cussing

Word Count: 852

*NOT MY GIF*

  “This is fucking insane,” Steve muttered as the two of you took your shift of watching Max for a portion of the night.

  You shook your head, “Poor Max. I can’t imagine how scared she must be. If we weren’t here, who knows-”

  “But we are here,” Steve reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.

  You exchanged small smiles as you laid your head on his shoulder. The two of you sitting in the comfortable silence as you looked over all the sleeping kids. 

  “Steve?” you whispered.

  “Yeah?” his voice low.

  You let out a soft sigh, “I love you.”

  Even if your head hadn’t been on his shoulder, you would be able to feel how tense Steve became at your words. And when another moment passed and he hadn’t said anything back, your heart sank to your stomach. 

  “I-I,” you struggled to figure out what to say next, “I’m sorry.” Before he could stop you, you were halfway up the basement stairs. 

  Steve tried to call out for you, causing some of the kids to stir a bit which made him quiet back down. He wanted to punch himself in the face for his reaction. He knew how he felt, why couldn’t he just say it?

  You found yourself seated on the front porch of the Wheelers’ house, small tears streaming down your face as you tried your best to cry quietly. 

  “Y/N?” you looked up and saw a very tired Robin with a blanket wrapped around her. 

  You quickly attempted to wipe away your tears, “Oh, hey, Robin,” you gave her a half-hearted smile, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

  “Nah,” she shook her head as she took a seat next to you, “Dustin’s snoring,” a small chuckle leaving both of you, “What’re you doing out here? And why’re you crying?”

  You let out a shaky sigh, “I told Steve I loved him.”

  “Oh,” she exclaimed before a smile spread across her lips, “It’s about time, really. I was wondering when one of you would finally just use the “L” word-” 

  “He didn’t say it back,” you cut her off, “You should’ve seen the look on his face, Robin. You would’ve thought I told him I was cursed too.” The tears built in your eyes again, “I thought he felt the same way. I thought he loved me. But I was wrong. God, I feel like such an idiot.” 

  “Hey,” she strung her arm around you, “You are not an idiot. Steve might be though. He does love you, Y/N. I know he does.”

  “Then why couldn’t he say it back?” you cried softly. 

  Robin sighed, “Y/N, how much did you know about Nancy and Steve’s relationship?”

  “What?” you were so confused, “Only a bit. I just knew they dated for a few months before they broke up and she got together with Jonathan.”

  “That’s the short version anyway,” Robin explained, “What drove their breakup and sort of pushed Jonathan and Nancy together was something a bit deeper.”

  “What happened?” 

  “Nancy didn’t love Steve. In some drunken stupor she basically told him that their whole relationship was bullshit and that them being in love was bullshit too,” your heart broke for Steve, knowing exactly how he must’ve felt, “The next day or something when Nancy was sober, Steve asked her if she loved him, and Nancy didn’t say it back. Then some time later, she ends up with Jonathan and you know that those two are definitely in love. Bottom line is, I think Steve is just scared that if he tells you that he loves you, you’ll end up thinking it’s all bullshit too.”

  You let out a heavy sigh, “I could never think that, Robin. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know that.”

  “Me neither,” a voice came from around the corner, Steve appearing in front of you and Robin. 

  She looked between the two of you, “Well, I think I should head back to bed,” she gave your shoulder a squeeze and a small smile before heading back into the house. 

  “I’m so sorry,” he muttered. 

  “Steve, you don’t have to-”

  “No, Y/N,” he cut you off, “Robin’s right, I’m a complete dingus. The only reason I couldn’t say it back was because I was terrified. Terrified that it was too good to be true. Terrified that the minute I told you how I felt, you’d leave. And if I lost you,” Steve choked back sobs, “I-I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t risk that.” 

  You brought your hand to his stubbled cheek, pulling his teary gaze to you, “I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise you.”

  Steve didn’t hesitate to pull your lips together, he had never felt safer than he did in your touch. Tears of relief leaving his eyes as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. 

  “I’m so sorry. I love you, Y/N. I love you. God, I love you so much,” Steve uttered and repeated like a prayer.

  You nodded, laughing with relief as the tears dried, “I love you, Steve.”

[impala-dreamer]

Save Me - Part One

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester

7,160 Words Total. Part one: 3,209

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Her thoughts were hazy; her head throbbing from the repeated blows. The blood that had trickled down her neck had dried and she could feel how matted her hair was around the wounds.

Her muscles ached, her skin was bruised and broken in more than one spot. The cramped trunk she’d been forced into and the bumpy ride had nearly crippled her. She’d tried to count the turns they took, the miles they raced across, but disorientation and fear had been too much to overcome.

Wrists and knees bound in scratchy, rough rope and eyes blinded by a scarf, Y/N was led from the car and dragged up a few stairs. She could hear a lock turn and the hinges of a door creak. Boots on a wooden floor; the heavy breathing of her captor.

The house was warm. Heat was pulsing up from hissing radiators and the smell hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of stale cigarettes and rotting trash. Still, she was grateful for the warmth. January in Indianapolis was freezing and the trunk hadn’t exactly been insulated.

“Where are you taking me?” she whimpered, cringing as the fingers around her upper arms dug into her flesh.

There was no answer.

“Please! Don’t do this. We can work something out.”

When she refused to take another step, she was yanked forward and thrown into another room. Her sneakers squeaked and she recognized the sound of cheap linoleum flooring under her rubber soles.

A kitchen. Knives. A backdoor, maybe.

She twisted against the tight hold. “Please, just let me go. I swear to god I won’t go to the cops. No charges pressed. Please. We can get out of this mess.”

The giant hand gripped her harder and Y/N groaned at the pain.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

A gruff voice shouted by her ear. “Shut up!”

She bit her tongue but refused to give up. “Let me go!”

With all of her strength, she pivoted to the right, shoving her elbow hard into the solid body behind her. She heard a pained grunt and the hand holding her released. She spun around the other way and tried to run, but it was no use. Still tied, her knees buckled and she began to fall.

The hands were back, yanking her harshly back onto her feet. She screamed and fist collided with her jaw. Sparks erupted in the blackness of her vision, pain spread across her face.

“Told you to shut up!”

Y/N held her breath and squeezed her lips shut.

Tugged forward again, she stumbled deeper into the kitchen and heard a door open. Cold air hit her face and she shuddered.

“Where are we going?” Tears soaked into the blindfold. “Please…”

Hands released her and Y/N teetered on the edge of what felt like the top of a staircase.

A basement.

She panicked.

“No, no, no!”

“I told you to shut the fuck up!”

His fist connected with her temple and Y/N fell. She counted four stairs before every sensation and thought vanished.

“You sure we should be doing this here?”

Y/N looked over from the edge of the bed at Jensen who was fixing his hair in the mirror. He was primped and picture perfect for a busy day at the convention. Tight black tee under a denim jacket, immaculately ripped jeans, and brown boots. Add to it all the longer hair and a beard- he looked a little too good.

He caught her eye in the mirror and smiled. “I do. I think this is the best place to do it.”

Y/N squirmed nervously and lifted her left leg onto her knee so she could retie her sneaker for the tenth time. Her engagement ring glimmered and she sighed happily at the diamond.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And yet-

“What if they don’t like me? Or they get mad, or-”

Jensen spun around and dipped his chin, looking at her with a stern gaze. “Then I’ll kill them. All of them.”

His voice had dropped to a deep, rough growl and Y/N laughed.

“OK, Dean.”

Jensen exhaled loudly and straightened up, returning to himself. He closed the space between them with two long strides and fell to one knee. He took her hand, the same hand that he’d held two weeks ago when he’d asked her to marry him.

“I promise,” he said softly. “They’re gonna love you.”

Her cheeks warmed and her tension eased.

“How can you be sure?”

Green eyes beamed as he smiled.

“Because I love you.”

Pain woke her.

Stabbing, white-hot pain that spread through the entirety of her left side. Though she couldn’t tell where it manifested from, several points along her body had made contact with the concrete floor and spikes of pain radiated from each one.

Her cheek was smashed against the frozen floor and her nose ached. Gingerly, she rolled onto her back. The scarf over her eyes had shifted a bit and she could see a faint stream of light surrounded by creeping shadows.

The air was frigid and damp, and smelled like mold. She shivered as the cold seeped through her thin clothing and into her soul.

Fear wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. Her breathing quickened, her sore jaw trembled. She tasted blood, felt every bruise, every splinter of bone. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the last twelve hours.

Late evening. The convention center. Walking from the loading dock to the back parking lot. Low hanging ceiling; giant yellow lights. Cars jammed in every spot. A dirty white van. A shiny black Explorer. An old gold Camry.

The Camry.

Something heavy hitting her head. Her ears rang. The warmth of blood oozed across her scalp.

She could feel the trunk closing around her, the thin upholstery. The stink of gasoline wrinkled her nose.

Her chest burned. Her throat closed.

She screamed.

“Somebody help me! Help!”

She thrashed against the ground; ropes still would tight around her wrists and legs.

“Help!”

Turning her face back to the concrete, she wiggled her forehead against the stone, pushing the blindfold up and away from her eyes. She blinked into the darkness and let out a hopeless cry.

The basement wasn’t big, but it was old and dark. Light streamed down from the door at the top of the staircase but she’d rather not have any.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, spiders lurked in corners, ghosts swept like cold breath over her skin.

“Please…” Tears flowed freely, dripping down her cheeks and onto the floor. She let go, sobbing into the darkness, lost and terrified. “Help me…”

The stage was bigger than she thought it would be; the curtains heavier. She stood off to the side, hiding in the wings while Jensen awed the crowd.

He really was something magnificent. With a tiny smile, he could captivate a crowd. One well-timed wink could send them to their knees, have them swooning and begging for more.

Y/N watched happily as he answered questions and animatedly told a few stories about his work on The Boys. He had a million stories and she would never get tired of hearing them.

She could feel the hour waning and nerves crept up her spine. She steadied her breathing and twirled the platinum ring on her finger. It was too big, she thought, but it didn’t matter. It could be a lump of camel dung and she’d love it. He’d given it to her.

Finally, Jensen cleared his throat and threw a glance over his shoulder at her. It was time.

“I’m sure most of you have heard the rumors,” he said, microphone clutched in his left hand. “So, I thought we’d put them to rest right now.”

The audience’s anticipation was nearly tangible. Hopeful silence rang through the room.

“If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to introduce you to my fiance…”

Right arm extended, Jensen gestured to Y/N and she took a deep breath before stepping out into the bright lights.

Her hands were numb. The skin around her wrists was bloody and stinging. In a panic, she twisted her hands, chewed on the knots, screamed through her teeth.

The desperate cries rang off the leaky stone walls and bounced back at her. She was sure that no one outside would be able to hear her, even if they weren’t in the middle of nowhere.

She had no idea, really, where she was. She did know that they had driven for a long while, and most of the journey had been on uneven, unpaved roads. Surely, they were well outside of the city and anywhere there might be neighbors nearby to hear her pleas for help.

Giving up and afraid of breaking her teeth on the knot, she rolled onto her knees and carefully shuffled over to the stairs. The wooden banister was old and unfinished, just bare wood hammered into place. She rubbed the rope against the edge, hoping to fray the strands and break free.

“What are you gonna do once you get those ropes off?”

Y/N froze and looked around, searching the shadows for the source of the familiar voice.

“Hello?”

“You got a plan?”

“What?” She squinted into the shadows but there was nothing there. She was alone.

“I said, do you have a plan to get out of here?”

“Who’s there!”

A deep, kind laugh. “You know who it is, Y/N/N. What you don’t know is how to get out of here.”

Her heart raced. She did know who it was, but she wouldn’t admit it. If she was hearing his voice, she was going insane. Or she was concussed, which seemed more likely.

Can you go crazy from that?

“Depends on how hard they hit you, I guess,” he said.

Y/N grit her teeth and tried to ignore him. She went back to work furiously rubbing against the post.

“Keep going, you almost got it.”

She sighed. “Go away.”

Another laugh, softer, under his breath. “You don’t mean that. You need me.”

Y/N groaned and kept at her task. Tiny specks of dust and fibers danced in the faint light and she picked up speed, forcing it harder into the wood.

The rope snapped before she could steady herself and she fell forward, smashing her forehead into the corner of the post.

“Fuck!”

Dizzy, she tore the broken twine away and sat back on her ass. She kicked her legs out and untied the rope around her legs. Finally able to move, she jumped to her feet.

The sudden movement was too much for her head and she fell onto the steps, palms crushing into the damp wood.

“Be careful…”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the phantom voice and crawled on aching hands and knees up the steep stairs.

Once at the top, she held her breath and pressed her ear to the door, listening.

If anyone was near, they made no sound.

Carefully, she stood up and grabbed the knob. Praying for release, she turned the brass but it caught halfway around. She turned it again and again hoping something would change, but it was locked.

“Hello!” She beat against the door, kicked it hard. “Help me! Hello!” Fists pounded, her throat tore. “Let me out!”

Someone on the other side kicked at the door and it rattled in the frame.

“Shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, scaring her even more.

Y/N jerked back from the door and felt all hope drain away as boots thudded across the linoleum and the lights went out.

To her surprise, the audience cheered. Smiles beamed up at her from the front row, applause washed over her.

Timidly, and with Jensen’s encouragement, she stepped up to the microphone stand and smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

Her cheeks were burning, her eyes squinting in the stage lights. She raised a hand to shield her face from the glare and looked out into the room. Every seat was filled and fans stood along the back wall. It seemed everyone at the con was in that room, watching Jensen give his big announcement.

She tried to take the mic but her hand was shaking terribly. Jensen came to her aid and pulled it from the stand. He kissed her cheek.

“You’re gonna be great,” he whispered. “They already love you, just go with it.”

Already, people were queueing up on either side of the stage, ready to ask a question should the lines be opened again.

“How’s it going?” she asked, receiving a loud cheer in reply. “Yeah, me too.” She laughed and took a shy step back. Her heart was racing, her lips hurt from smiling.

Jensen watched her with bright, loving eyes. He placed his big hand on her lower back and gave a gentle push.

His touch calmed her instantly. She turned to look up at him and everything else faded away. She’d be fine, he was with her. Always.

“Well, show them,” he said into the mic.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Go on…”

With dramatic, mock reluctance, she extended her left hand and showed off her new ring. It sparkled in the lights and the fans went wild.

She checked the door three more times. She twisted the knob until her palms were raw. She kicked at the wood until her legs ached.

In the darkness, she felt her way down the stairs and collapsed onto the floor. Her head was pounding and a sharp, unending ring blasted loud in her ears.

She lay on her right side, shivering and sweating at the same time. Her face was clammy and her eyes felt as if they were on fire.

“You have a fever,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Y/N turned towards the voice and gasped.

Leaning against the staircase railing was a ghost of her imagination, a handsome vision in a denim jacket and ripped jeans. Red flannel peeked out beneath the jacket and his pockets were full. His jaw was shaded with light stubble; his hair was short and fluffed upwards. His forehead was creased and he crossed his ankles and arms, staring down at her.

She shook her head but her vision wouldn’t clear. He was blurry but obviously there.

“Dean?”

He chuckled. “Who else?”

She sighed painfully and closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

The apparition pushed off from the post and shrugged. “I’m more real than anything else you got right now. Who are you gonna talk to? That rat over there?”

She cringed. “What!”

He laughed outright and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re gonna have to toughen up real quick, Sweetheart, if you’re gonna get out of this.”

“There’s no way out of this.”

Dean crouched down, set his forearms on his knees, getting close to her. “There’s always a way out. You may not like it, but there’s always a way.”

Something caught in the back of her throat and she coughed hard. Violent pain erupted across her middle and she screamed, folding in on herself.

Dean’s worried hands floated over her body; his face contorted with helplessness.

“Hey. Hey! You’re OK. Just breathe.”

She coughed again and her limbs spasmed, twisting inwards.

“Hey! Y/N/N, come on.”

She imagined she could feel the heaviness of his hand on her shoulder.

“Shh… It’s a broken rib… or six. You’re gonna be OK.”

Her eyes were wide, her skin paled. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Hey, hang on… Stay with me!”

Another cough let loose a spray of crimson from her lips and Y/N’s eyes rolled back.

Dean’s voice echoed in her head and everything else faded away.

He kissed her on stage. In front of everyone. In front of a thousand cameras flashing and videos rolling. He kissed her hard, dipped her over his arm.

Y/N was embarrassed and thrilled and in love. It was hard to contain or sort through the emotions running through her, and when they walked off stage together, she started to cry.

Jensen spun around and bent down to reach her eye level.

“Baby, no… what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to look away, but two giant hands framed her face and held her there.

“What’s going on?” he asked, green eyes flooded with worry. “Did I do something?”

She smiled and sniffled. “No. No, Jen, you didn’t. I’m just…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking happy.”

She took a shaky breath and lifted her head from the frozen concrete. The chill had entered her bones, chilling the marrow and numbing her digits. Her joints ached; the breaks in her body stung. She wiped at the dried blood on her mouth and tried to sit up.

It hurt too much to move.

“I’m thirsty,” she croaked. Her throat was raw and her voice crackled.

“You gotta get outta here.”

She growled. “Ya think? How?” She pushed up on one arm and glared his way.

Dean was standing in the dark next to the stairs. Hands shoved in his pockets; bottom lip tugged harshly between his teeth.

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Or who they are!”

He pursed his lips, took a breath. “I know-”

“Or why the fuck I’m locked in a basement!”

Dean rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for answers on the ceiling. “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers and looked down at her.

“What’s it?”

“Why are you here?”

She rolled onto her ass and slowly tucked her knees to her chest. Every movement hurt, but it was better than freezing to death laid out like a ragdoll.

“I already said, I don’t know.”

He dropped his chin, narrowed his gaze. “Think.”

She shook her head. “I have no fucking idea.”

“They haven’t touched you,” he noted.

She scoffed. “Um… I don’t know if you recall that I’ve been bludgeoned and shoved into a trunk and beaten and-”

Dean held up his hand, surrendering and asking for patience. “I mean, they haven’t… touched touched you.”

“You mean like-”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“So they’re not gonna like… rape me or anything. That’s good.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He scratched his head. “So why are you here? What do they want from you?”

Y/N shrugged and winced at a new found pain. Her neck was stiff, her spine tingled.

“Think!”

She startled. “I don’t know!”

“Think. What’s missing?”

“I don’t-” Her head hurt. Her vision unfocused.

“Come on, kid. Think.”

“My… my ring.” She reached for the diamond, but her finger was bare. “My ring is gone.”

Dean hummed. “Yeah. But what’s still here?”

She took stock of herself, struggling to remember what she’d worn that morning and what was left.

“My necklace,” she answered, touching her clavicle. “My jewelry. They didn’t take anything else.”

Dean came closer as he led her thought process along. “So, they…”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a robbery or anything. They don’t want to rape me. They… It’s got something to do with you.” She looked up into green eyes and a hard expression. “I mean, with- with Jensen.”

TO BE CONTINUED... Part Two

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