#i fear i girl bossed too close to the sun with this one

[jayparked]

heyy live ur writing style smmm😭

can we get 106 with Jay?🫶🏻

warnings: s2l, semi public sex in a closed restaurant, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

"i'm not on the menu."

"w-what?" you stare at the diner owner with wide eyes. he's smiling while continuing to wipe down the counter you're sitting at.

"i gave you that menu ten minutes ago but you haven't looked away from me for a second. i'm starting to think i missed a spot shaving or something."

he's so nonchalant about what he's saying to you. as if his words didn't send chills down your spine or bring a bright flush to your cheeks.

"i-...i'm sorry, jay. i must have been zoning out..."

he flashes you a playful smirk, one that screams 'yeah, sure, whatever you say'. you're grateful he drops the subject, continuing to clean as the last few customers start to leave the diner before closing time.

"you know..." jay starts slowly, "you've been coming here every week for months..."

"...yeah?" you question cautiously, eyes peering over the menu to take in his casual stance: one elbow on the counter so his head can be pillowed by his palm, the other hand still holding the washcloth.

"why do you still ask for a menu? you and i both know you don't need it. i've got your weekly cravings down to a science now. "

you chuckle and set the menu down, opting to take a sip of water just after saying, "a science, huh?"

jay shrugs one shoulder, his gaze intensifying, "rainy days it's the soup of the day. when it's sunny you want the roast beef provolone sandwich with crinkle cut fries, a diet coke, and a pickle on the side. when you have a stressful day at school you want the pancakes with extra syrup. and when it's-"

"enough!" you hold up a hand and laugh. "i get it! i like my routine, i'm predictable, blah blah blah."

"not as predictable as i'd like you to be," jay deadpans in a husked tone. your thoughts mentally trip inside your brain and you gulp a little too loudly. seconds go by without either of you saying anything or looking away from one another. you know you should say something, anything at this point, but the words just won't come out.

"why do you still ask for a menu, y/n?"

your heart is pounding in your chest so hard it physically hurts. but now that the new year has started, you remember your goal: to be more bold, more brave, and to try not to shy away from what you want.

instead of taking the leap, you opt to answer his question...with a question.

"why do you let me order way past closing?"

jay nods his head, lips jutting out playfully, clearly not expecting the tables to turn on him so quickly.

"it's the only time you can come in. you're in lectures all day. and someone's gotta make sure you're eating after all that studying." jay gets himself upright, tossing the washcloth over his shoulder and giving you another smile before turning his back to you. he walks towards the soda machine, scooping a generous amount of ice into a glass and pressing his finger against the diet coke option.

"so you're saying...that i'm not like the other customers?" you try to come off as funny, playful, maybe even a little bit flirty, wiggling your eyebrow at his back for an extra quirky effect. but he doesn't laugh.

jay turns to you once the glass is full. slowly, he leans back down again, his face inching closer and closer to yours as he moves the glass towards you. his eye contact is hypnotizing; the way you can't break away no matter how badly you want to. you look up at him with curious, searching eyes, hoping to find any hint that what you're feeling for him isn't as crazy as you think it is.

"do you want to be like the other customers?" he murmurs so softly you almost don't hear it. he's close enough that you could reach out and touch him, close enough to pull him closer, just...close enough.

"no," you sigh dreamily, "i really don't."

finally, jay's eyes flick down towards your lips, his own lips parting slightly, a soft exhale escaping them.

his gaze meets yours again, something softer, pleading, now displayed in those deep brown eyes. "may i?"

"please," you whisper, your own eyes flicking to his lips now.

both of jay's hands come forward and softly cusp your cheeks, pulling you closer until your lips collide. after a few seconds, jay smiles widely, his teeth showing while his lips still hover over yours.

"say that again," jay murmurs, his eyes fluttering as they remain closed, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones.

you can't help but smile with him, your hands shaking as you reach out to grasp his wrists and squeezing them reassuringly. "please."

"mmm, fuck. that's gonna be a problem for me later," he groans, his words rushing out of his mouth because damn, he just needs to kiss you again.

and kiss you again he does. his lips now moving feverishly with yours. his hands wander away from your face until they're on your shoulders, moving down even more until he's grabbing you under your arms and pulling you onto the countertop. now, standing between your legs, he can finally kiss you properly. one hand is back on your cheek, warm and soft while the other grips your hip tightly, bracing himself with the contact. your own hands reach out to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his dark black hair. a particular overly excited tug has him moaning against your lips, making you inhale as the sound sends ripples of pleasure down your body. he continues to kiss you feverishly, the pace of the kisses quickening and suddenly your body is not satisfied with the amount of distance between you. you need him closer. the only thing you can think of is to wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip and pulling him into you even more.

after a few more moments of kissing pass, you're both forced to separate from one another to catch your breaths. he's looking at you with blown out pupils, panting with his now swollen lips parted slightly. he's beyond hungry for you, and you love the feeling of knowing you look exactly the same in his eyes.

"let's take it back to my place." he finally manages to get the words out.

"is this not technically your place?"

"you're right. god, you're so smart." with a mischievous grin jay grabs your body and lays you on the countertop, hastily throwing your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass and burying his face in your clothed cunt while you squeal with laughter. any innocent passerby could see what the two of you are up to. jay hadn't gotten to the part of his closing checklist that includes pulling the shades down on all the windows. hell, all the lights are even still on, making a lovely spotlight for the two of you amongst the dark city streets.

but you've dreamt of this moment for so long that you don't even care.

jay has your pants off seconds later, too impatient to continue to play around. he just needs to taste you after all those nights waking up in a cold sweat, cock twitching spurts of cum into his boxers after dreaming of what you would look like sitting on his face, riding his cock, or how you'd look under him as he pounded you senseless. and now, he doesn't have to imagine it anymore. groaning as he continues to ravage you, hands groping anywhere he can reach, his tongue flicking skillfully against your swollen clit.

"j-jay. oh my god!" you cry out, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white, unprepared to come this quickly.

"my god, that's what you sound like screaming my name?" jay's standing now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before moving to undo his belt. "so much better than i imagined. you're not going anywhere tonight. you're going to scream my name until you can't speak anymore. i want that throat raw in every way possible. but for now..." he groans as he pushes the tip of his cock into your hole, stretching you in new ways you haven't felt before. your body adapts to him quickly, though, as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[prythianpages]

@sillysillygoose444 Thank you! ❤️‍🔥 This series is my baby so I hope you enjoy the rest! (It’s still not finished but almost there)

Like An Angel | Eris x Reader

summary: Eris is dancing on the edge of despair when he finds you. The one person who reignites the flickering flame within him, breathing life back into his weary soul.

warnings: angst, slight mentions of abuse/burn marks

a/n: this is purely inspired by Kali Uchis's song Igual Que un Angel. I've been listening to it all day on repeat, it's sooo good! Eris came to mind when I thought of which ACOTAR male to pair to this song and I have been wanting to write something for him for awhile now 🥰

Eris slumps into an intricately carved chair, sore and bruised body sinking into the softness of the cushions. He hastily undoes the top buttons of his white dress shirt, wincing as he catches a glimpse of the maimed skin below. Exhaustion tears through his mind, body and soul. He tilts his head back, a silent effort to contain the tears that sting at the corners of his eyes, despite being in the privacy of his room. He refuses to let those tears cascade down his cheeks. He refuses to let his father’s cruelty win.

Sensing the weight of his pain, the oldest and leader of his hound pack approaches with a measured grace, emitting a soft, empathetic whine. Ember, her dark fur tinged with the wisdom of seasons, brushes against his trembling hand. The remaining hounds, still and watchful on their plush cushions in front of the fireplace, pivot their heads towards their master, their sharp eyes mirroring her concern.

A gentle lift graces the corner of Eris's lips as he strokes Ember's fur. He then eyes the other hounds and notices there is one missing. “Where’s Clover?” He quietly asks Ember.

As if answering his question, Ember nuzzles him once more before pacing toward the window. Intrigued by her behavior, Eris follows suit. He pulls back the heavy curtains and a panorama of gloom unfolds before him. The sky is laden with heavy gray clouds that hang low, concealing any glimpse of the sun. Raindrops compose a melancholic symphony, mirroring his inner turmoil, as they tap rhythmically against the window.

In the midst of the rain-soaked courtyard, he easily spots Clover–the youngest but fiercest of his hounds. She’s prancing around one of the court’s magnificent fountains, tail wagging happily behind her. Eris feels the beginnings of a smile forming on his face. It falters when his eyes catch the movement of another presence outside with Clover.

You.

You’re like a burst of sunshine on the gray canvas of the day– like an angel sent from above to shine light into the darkest corners of his soul, reigniting the flickering flame within. Your soft pink dress molds to your skin, yet you remain indifferent to the elements. As Eris marvels at your beauty, he thinks heaven must be your residence because not even the pouring rain can bring you down.

He blinks sharply, snapping out of his trance, as he hears the echo of Clover’s bark. His eyes widen when your laughter follows, and he watches as Clover chases after you. It's not the usual chase he sends his hounds for. This one is rare, playful, and Eris finds himself at a loss for words when Clover licks your arm and nuzzles against you. Such a tender gesture from one of his fiercest hounds. You must be the Cauldron’s favorite, he thinks as he feels a gentle stirring within him, awakening something deep in his chest.

**

Eris can’t bring himself to care for the way the cold rain stings at his fresh wounds nor the way his shirt and pants drenches immediately along with his hair. Clover’s ears twitch at the approaching footsteps but you don’t seem to hear them. You’re lost in your own world, eyes shut as you tilt your head up toward the sky and embrace the cool touch of rain against your burning skin.

Clover nudges at the hand at your side, alerting you of the new presence behind you, before happily darting toward Eris. He can sense the way his beloved hound holds back, as she must smell the injuries hidden beneath his clothes. She licks at his hand instead of jumping on him.

Eris wonders if he should wait to see how long it takes for you to finally notice him but he’s much too impatient for that. He clears his throat, and at the sound, you gasp, spinning around to meet his gaze. His amber eyes pierce through you, delving into the very depths of your soul, causing you to falter and instinctively step back.

A fleeting frown threatens to mar his features. He banishes it, concealing any vulnerability behind a stoic mask. "Who are you?" he questions, his voice sharp, the intensity of his gaze unwavering.

"y/n," you respond, blinking at him, your eyebrows furrowing at the abruptness of his tone. Your own voice carries a softer, much lighter tone and it’s as if the sky responds to your warmth, the rain slowing to a mild drizzle. Definitely the Cauldron’s favorite. "And who are you?"

Eris, with a taunting scoff, asserts himself as he takes a step forward. Closer to you. "You enter this court without knowing who I am? Has your mother neglected to teach you any manners?"

A downpour of regret engulfs him, more turbulent than the relentless rain from earlier, as he witnesses the glistening in your eyes and the subtle downturn of your lips into a frown.

“My mother is dead,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him, as you drop your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” his tone carries a genuine sincerity, and for a fleeting moment, his impassive mask wavers, the amber gaze softening. It invites you to meet his eyes once more. “I’m Eris.”

“Eris,” you repeat, eyes widening in recognition. There’s no hint of anger or guilt in your eyes at his earlier harsh demeanor. He finds a rare softness instead, the corner of your eyes crinkling as your lips form a small, welcoming smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Eris.”

There’s a gentle fluttering, akin to the delicate wings of butterflies, awakening in the pit of his stomach because now that he’s up close and the rain has stopped, he can appreciate the depths of your beauty as you smile at him.

Clover nudges at Eris’s waist, eliciting a wince from the male. Your gaze swiftly descends, settling on his exposed chest, where a glimpse of red and irritated skin meets your eyes.

"Are you hurt?" you ask, and Eris is unexpectedly comforted by the genuine concern etched across your face over him. Someone you just met.

Engrossed in observing every little subtle shift in your expression, Eris fails to notice the hand you extend toward him. Delicate fingers graze against his skin, tender and cautious to avoid causing further harm and his breath catches in his throat. He’s almost certain you can feel the rapid heartbeat beneath.

“y/n! I’ve been searching everywhere for you! What are you doing out here? Are you mad? You’re going to catch a bloody cold and–” Sawyer, one of Eris’s younger brothers, voice wavers, prompting you to take a couple of steps back and put as much distance between you and Eris.

“Brother,” The younger Vanserra greets Eris as glances between you two. With his hands behind his back and shoulders held high, he approaches Eris. Fear flashes in his eye and he comes to an abrupt stop when Clover lets out a deep menacing growl, baring her sharp teeth at him. A striking contrast to the way she regarded you.

“I see you’ve met my future bride.” Sawyer steps closer to you instead, lips curling up into a smirk as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, forcing you closer to him. Eris doesn’t miss the way your body tenses at the possessive gesture.

Future bride. As the words sink in, Eris feels a rage of distaste simmering beneath his skin. No.

“Your father and mine are asking for you.” Sawyer says to you, brown eyes taking in your drenched form. His nose crinkles in disgust. “Gods, you’re a mess. Let’s hurry and get you changed. My father does not take lightly to those who make him wait. ”

Sawyer doesn’t bother to spare his brother a glance as he pulls you along with him, missing the way Eris fists clench at his sides. Even Clover’s gaze darkens, not liking the way Sawyer speaks to you in a condescending manner.

Eris hears you reply quietly as you struggle to keep up with Sawyer’s longer strides and the burn marks marring his skin are nothing compared to the burning ache set alight in his chest. Clover nudges his hand, sensing his distress the same way Ember had earlier.

“Heaven must’ve sent you, love,” he murmurs softly, his voice full of longing, as he recognizes the magnetic pull, akin to a golden thread, in his chest the further you walk away from him.

It’s as if you feel that pull too. You’re turning back to steal one more glance at him and in that moment, a myriad of emotions floods your wide eyes. Yet, there’s a purity that remains in the depth of your eyes, mirroring the innocence of heavenly beings and bringing life back into his weary soul. If only you had a halo and wings, the image would be complete…

Eris was aware of Sawyer’s upcoming arranged marriage but he never fathomed for someone as sweet as you to be his bride. People like you are a rarity, the subject of fervent prayers. A heart like yours is precious and on the verge of extinction in a brutal world like this.

You’re pure light, a beacon of goodness. One that the Cauldron favors but how cruel, he thinks, that the Cauldron does not favor him. It’s a bittersweet dance of fate because though you are close to him, you remain just beyond his grasp…promised to another.

a/n: if you'd like to read more about soft reader x Eris, you can find the masterlist for it here (:

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Bookish girlfriend you're my yum yum - Mark Webber x reader

Summary : After going viral on book social media, you give the fans a completely new side of you. It catches the eye of an author (who happens to be a 9 GP winner)

FC: Mima by Cami

inkscentedglamour: Squeezing in some last girly romance books before I film a new video for you 👀

username: Our queen is finally trying romantasy, I can feel it.

username: I need another object x human romance. I know it was an April Fools thing, but I need her to read Double Stuffed

username: DARK ROMANCE. DARK ROMANCE. DARK ROMANCE.

username : I know the sports romance PR is talking to her like the Green Goblin Mask

> username : Especially the new book with the MMC inspired by Danny Ricciardo

> username: need to rewatch her F1 romance streams on patreon.

username: Do you think this is after Two Girls One Formula podcast backlash?

> username: The girls brought her on to talk about books, specifically romances. I don't understand why the fans were attacking her for not talking much about the current grid and things like that and focusing on the fiction.

> username: Especially when she has said many times that she's easing into the fandom. How would you feel if people bullied you for starting with edits/ fanfics and books, like she's doing?

inkscentedglamour: Writing my script for the upcoming video and staring at what got me here

username: Throttled slander era, you will forever be famous

> username: The way she started off so hesitant to give it a bad review or DNF it. This was her first 1 star. People died.

> username: Asking people to still try it for themselves and to not just judge it based on her review. Cemented her as my favorite BookTuber, I fear.

username: The fact that she still followed through and read the entire series. And rearranged her entire Goodreads ratings after that? Iconic

> username: I miss her giving 5 stars. But the quote "if I can be cruel enough to give 1 star, then I don't think I should be generous to give 5 stars to any book, but one" will forever live on.

inkscentedglamour: New video, out now

username: MARK WEBBER????? OVER EMILY HENRY????

> username: over Christina Lauren?????? Ali Hazelwood? Katee Robert

username: you're telling me an Australian driver who retired like 10 years ago is her favorite author??? And was the driving force for her to get her to watch a GP?

username: she's the queen of Booktok, has talked about every book boyfriend, and now she's into cars that go fast?

aussiegrit: Talked about Porsche, F1, Mentoring Oscar, and my book, somehow. Why is Aussie Grit trending?

username: Oh no, our little Booktuber girl bossed too close to the sun (she has a million subscribers and multiple brand deals)

> username: she got it to 5 stars on Goodreads and onto the trending page on Amazon.

username: Mark, wear the My fake boyfriend drives for F1 mech, and my life is yours

username: @inkscentedglamour, look who sorta knows you exist.

inkscentedglamour: Oh oh

inkscentedglamour: Reading the book 😄🤩🥺 vs. having to describe its impact on you, your career, and the future 🙃😑☠️. If you see me verbally abusing a Google doc at the airport, no you didn't

username: Mark Webber in the likes?????????

> username: I guess he found out why Aussie Grit was trending

username: reading video hiatus is over, society is healing

> username: we haven't gotten a part two of her trip to a random destination yet

> username: true, she just packed and left us on a cliffhanger. Surely we're getting that first

> username: her caption says it all. For book lovers, some of you have no reading comprehension.

inkscentedglamour: I finished reading my book, so it only makes sense to hit the thrift, right? Reading vlog will be up when I'm back home (I was strictly told to relax)

username: the two glasses (which could mean nothing)

> username : this is the girl that relies on our discord pins to drink water, what is going on in the house of commons

username : Mark Webber, here again????????? Before me?????????????

> username: she sped through her book cause she has his new book on pre-order

> username: I just know she'll get it on Kindle too, no way is she waiting til it ships to her house

username: Mark's pr team was sleeping because wdym they didn't reach out to her

> username: And apparently, he's got a launch party coming up with "surprise BookTube influencer" attending

inkscentedglamour : Photographic proof that my favorite author knows I exist. Thank you, @aussiegrit, for the invite. And thanks for getting a decent picture before I cried at the blurb and dedication

aussiegrit: Figured you'd wanna skip the queue at Waterstones. Can't wait for your review of this one (also please re-read the new prologue before posting)

username: Mark has been secretly divorced for a year and was writing this whole book as a therapy exercise??????

> username: he couldn't tell anybody and felt like he was slowly fading into obscurity, which affected his mental health

> username: he was not thinking of releasing this until the OG Aussie Grit review

> username: Mark saying that the YouTube video changed his life, just as much as it did hers

inkscentedglamour: Night and day

Comments on this post have been disabled

14.02.2025,approximately 3 months after the book launch

inkscentedglamour: Valentine's Day, Book Buying Day, and Merch Drop Day. Shop the My Real Boyfriend Drove for F1 tee. And yes, he signed off on this specific hard launch

inkscentedglamour: time to be sappy real quick after the merch plug. Mark has been inspiring me, guiding me and showering me with praise ever since his second book launch. I'm so happy he's in my life and I intend to keep him there for as long as I can. He beats all the bookish boyfriend one can have (yes, even Zafir)

aussiegrit: I'm so glad to have you in my life. You see me and be with me, sharp tongue,flaws and all. I wanna build you bookshelves and watch you put my books on them last. Now stop being a YouTuber for a second and get back to being my girlfriend.

[mountainsandmayhem]

You’re Mine, Little Dove

(Joel Miller x Female!Reader) 18+

Summary: You’ve always loved walking at night, but an unexpected visitor goes from the most terrifying to most erotic night of your life.

TW: predator/prey dynamics, ropes, blindfolding, gagging, non consent, consensual non consent, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby girl etc.)

A/N: I can’t say much without giving anything away, but this scene has been so fun for me to write. I’m tagging @untamedheart81 @beboldbebravethings @rav3n-pascal22 and @spookyxsam since you 4 wonderful people had such amazing support for my last story. And because delulu is the solulu, I’m also tagging @swiftispunk and @thetriumphantpanda because they’re both incredible creators and I truly admire their work.

🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍

You’ve always loved the night, and since getting promoted at work walking in the dark has become your way of winding down. Your friends think you’re crazy, blabbing on about how it’s dangerous and you shouldn’t be out there alone. One even suggested buying really dark sunglasses and walking during the day. You all laughed at that as you sipped rosé, but it’s not the same. For one, the summer sun in Texas is way too hot most days, but it’s also too “peopley” during the day. You want the solitude and quiet that comes with the dark.

All day you’re interrupted and expected to do things outside of your lane. Take work for example, today you were asked to take meeting minutes for a meeting that the team you lead isn’t even a part of. You lead a team, and have an assistant of your own who takes meeting notes, doesn’t that team lead have an assistant who can do that?

Probably not. He’s an arrogant prick, you think to yourself. But he’s the boss's son so he gets away with it. And because of that, you agree. You always fucking agree. Always happy to help, never saying no.

Here in the night though, it’s just you. The night doesn’t ask you to do anything but sleep, which you will do after enjoying the cooler summer air on your skin as you wander through the park behind your house.

There’s also a slight edge of danger to it that entices you. The park is well-lit, but who knows what could happen in the darkness between the casts of yellow light from lamppost to lamppost. Those darker spots might be your favourite, just a few steps away from the safety of the light.

You stop in one of those dark spots, closing your eyes and tilting your head up to the sky, taking a big cleansing breath in.

Silence. Calm. Peace.

You hold your breath for a few seconds, silence ringing in your ears before you slowly exhale. Just before you open your eyes, two strong arms wrap around you. A hand clamps over your mouth, the other arm other snakes tightly around your waist, pinning your arms down with it.

Silence, calm, and peace, were quickly replaced with fear, terror, and panic.

A solid wall of a person leads you to the grassy, non-lit areas of the park and you realize you have never known fear before. The fun fear of a roller coaster or haunted house, yes; but never true heart-stopping fear. Your stomach drops and everything inside you is yelling to fight.

“Don’t scream, little dove.” A deep voice rumbles through you. If it wasn’t for his massive form holding you up, you’re sure you’d fall over.

This doesn’t happen here. This is a safe neighbourhood where you know all your neighbours. For a second you think it’s a joke, someone sneaking up on you that you know, but it’s almost midnight on a Wednesday. Who would be up at this point?

As he pulls you along your fear evolves into terror. You’re frantically trying to catch your breath through your nose as every happy memory floods through you. The sparkly pink bike you got when you were six. The first time you saw white sand and crystal clear blue waters. Watching your best friend get engaged. How proud your parents looked when you got promoted last year. What was the last thing you even said to your parents?

His strong frame forces you to the grass. He places a knee on your back, holding you down as he ties your hands with a scratchy rope. Your mouth is free as your forehead rests on the grass.

Scream. Now.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Why can’t you scream or at least look back at him to see who he is so you can describe him to the police?

Oh god, what if he doesn’t let you go?

Just as you open your mouth to try to scream again he gags you and then blindfolds you. You’re pretty sure it’s done with silk ties, but you really can’t be sure.

“Good job, little dove.” He coos in your ear as he helps you up. “You’ll be rewarded for keeping quiet.”

He leads you through more of the grassy fields. You try to map out which house you’re headed toward in your mind’s eye until you’re interrupted by the sound of crunching gravel under your shoes. You assume you’re in an alley or street as you hear the clicking of a car door.

Your overly conservative father's voice comes into your head. “You can’t go out dressed like that. Boys will get the wrong idea. You’re inviting them to take advantage of you.”

That was years ago. You’re an adult woman now, with a degree and a mortgage. You know your clothing isn’t an excuse for this man’s abhorrent behaviour, but maybe you should have changed from your denim skirt and tight black top.

As you hear the vehicle door open the panic begins. Your breath comes in shorter and shallower, and it feels like your heart is thumping in your throat. You’re sure your captor can hear it, or at least feel it through the skin of your bicep that he’s gripping so tightly. A whimper escapes you as he hoists you into a back seat and slams the door.

“Don’t cry, little dove.” He says from the front as he starts the engine. “It’ll only entice me.”

Fuck. Fuck. You’re dead. Or trafficked. How could you not have screamed?! You let him take you, but did you stand a chance either way? You could feel his chest on the back of your head when he grabbed you, he was probably a foot taller than you. His strong hand was large enough to practically cover your whole face. He was the predator…you were the prey.

You calm your breathing and focus on the turns the vehicle takes as it pulls out of your neighbourhood, not letting the tears fall, you refuse to give him that sort of satisfaction.

It feels like you’ve been driving for hours before you finally come to a stop. He hasn’t said anything from the front seat. No music played. As he turns off the car you can hear the sound of a garage door closing. You’re royally fucked.

The door near your feet opens and you scramble to the other side of the vehicle as your instincts to fight ignite. A strong hand grabs your ankle and pulls you forward. You kick blindly with your other leg, screaming through the silk that’s wedged between your teeth. He catches your other ankle, squeezing them both together with one hand and binds them together.

He hoists you over his shoulder and lays a hard spank across your ass, eliciting a squeal as the walls of your pussy clench a little. “Behave, little dove,” he says cockily. You can’t see him, but you know he’s smirking over how easily he overpowered you.

You try to say ‘fuck you’ through your gag.

“Oh, I intend to.” He says as he takes you inside and up the stairs.

He drops you down on a bed and undoes the gag. “Tell me your name.”

“Touch me again and I’ll rip your dick off.” You spit.

He chuckles a little while straddling you and lifting the hem of your shift, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. “I love it when my little doves talk dirty to me.”

He places light kisses along your skin and you squirm to try to get free, but his large frame has you trapped and your arms and legs are useless if they’re bound. A deep moan from his chest shoots straight to your core, sending a new wave of arousal as your body starts to betray you.

“You’re a fucking coward,” you say with as much hate as you can muster, trying to ignore the want that’s spreading through your traitorous body.

He lifts your shirt higher, exposing all the skin between your bra and denim skirt, continuing to place soft kisses and light nibbles along your skin.

“I only want to make you feel good, little dove.” He says in a husky whisper, “How does that make me a coward?”

God dammit he feels so warm against you. You push his soft lips and deep soothing voice out of your mind and focus back on the fear, terror and panic you felt earlier.

“Capturing someone in the night. Binding them. Real men aren’t afraid of the fight.” Taunting him is incredibly risky, but if you entice him enough he might untie you and you can fight like hell to get free. He couldn’t have taken you far.

His kisses cease. You almost let out a whimper of protest at him stopping. Are you this desperate for touch? You have a boyfriend.

“Is that what you think, little dove?” He shifts to be straddling your hips, leaning forward with both forearms on either side of your face. He brushes away some hair that has stuck to your lips. “That I’m not a real man?”

You can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach as you try to squirm free. “Yes, you’re fucking pathetic.”

His lips move to your neck. Wet kisses moving from your ear to your collarbone. You’ve always been a sucker for neck kisses and with sight being taken away, your sense of touch seems heightened. Shit, his lips feel good and at this proximity, you catch a faint smell of leather and cedar. He trails his tongue back up before gently biting your earlobe.

Fuck, a small shiver runs down your back and your breath hitches as you squeeze your thighs together.

“I’ll make you a deal, little dove,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “If you can keep your breathing steady for the next 5 minutes, I’ll untie you and remove the blindfold.”

You feel dizzy by the closeness and gentleness of him. “And if I can’t?” You breathe.

“If you can’t…I’ll untie your ankles and remove the blindfold. I have a feeling you have beautiful eyes.”

You swallow hard, contemplating your options. He kidnapped you. He doesn’t have your consent to any of this, but based on the wetness that is now coating your thighs, your body doesn’t seem to get the same message.

You take a deep breath before saying, “Deal.”

Before the word has fully left your lips, he’s ripped your tank top completely open. His fingers work the front clasp on your bra as he whispers that he’s sorry about your shirt and starts placing hungry kisses down your neck. Your breasts are completely exposed to him, the cool air turning your nipples into stiff peaks.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He says as he cups both your breasts. His tongue swipes along the left nipple as his thumb caresses the smooth skin underside of the right one.

You remind yourself that he kidnapped you and try not to let your body and breathing betray you, but your thighs squeeze tighter for relief and your mind is swimming.

His tongue swipes harder before he moves over to the right one, sucking it into his mouth and rolling the other between his fingers.

He’s playing you like a fiddle. How does he seem to know exactly what you like?

He releases your nipple with a pop before gently blowing cool air on it. He latches back onto the left one, swirling with his tongue and your hips involuntarily buck forward as your breath stutters.

“Good girl, little dove.” He says with a low growl, coming back up to be face to face. “Looks like I win. Your hands stay tied, but I’ll free your ankles and take off the blindfold.”

His minty breath hits your nostrils. Fuck, my hands!! How could you have forgotten about your hands? Shit. You can’t believe you let this monster make you feel good.

He slips the blindfold off and you blink a few times, adjusting to the dimly lit room and taking in the man on top of you. Fuck, monster he is not. His curly dark hair is pushed back and you can see some salt and pepper around the temples. He has patchy facial that you couldn’t even feel when he was kissing you, he was being much more gentle than you thought. He’s handsome and rugged…if anything, this man is your type.

“I was right,” he says, his deep brown eyes staring right into you. “You do have beautiful eyes.”

Now that he sees you as a person, you might be able to elicit some sympathy.

“P-please let me go.” You say, holding in tears.

He tilts his head to one side, a small smile revealing a dimple that makes you melt a little. “Let you go? We’ve only just started, little dove.”

The fear starts to come back again as he shifts to untie your ankles. “Please don’t do this.”

He kisses up your thighs and speaks between kisses. “Sshhhh…let me make you feel good and then you can go home.”

You should kick or flail or do something, you had your best chance just seconds ago, but his warm, soft kisses had you too distracted. You start to think this man wouldn’t actually hurt you. But he is hurting you by forcing you to be here in the first place, isn’t he?

You look down at him to see him lying beside you, head propped in one hand near your hip as the other trails up and down your legs. His features are soft, eyes wholly focused on the tiny goosebumps he’s leaving on his skin. His hand slips between your thighs and tries to part your legs, you’re suddenly unsure if you’re squeezing them together to ease the throbbing of your clit or out of fear.

“Open your legs for me, little dove.” He says as he kisses the tops of your thighs.

You shake your head as the tears you were holding in roll down your cheeks. He’s right near your knees now, you could draw one up into his jaw, but those big chocolate eyes are looking up at you so lovingly.

He get up, walks towards the end of the bed and grabs your ankles. Like the flip of a switch, his look turns harsh and angry before he pulls you to the edge of the bed. Your skirt hikes up around your waist from the motion and he licks his lips as he wedges his body between your knees, spreading you apart enough for him to see you glistening for him.

“Tsk, tsk.” He says while shaking his head and lowering himself slowly between your legs. “Walking alone at night, in this little skirt with no panties?”

He lowers himself between your thighs and you begin to realize just how broad he is as your leg muscles cry out from the stretch. The rest of the room comes into view. There are handcuffs and ropes, along with paddles and whips hanging on the wall. There was no escaping this man, and your curiosity is peaked by the ropes you notice around the bed frame.

“Perhaps you’re not a little dove after all.” He taunts, looking at your wide eyes as they take in the room. He’s going to take what he wants from you and you barely fought it. You’re enjoying his words and touches, even more so now that you see how incredibly handsome he is.

“Please.” You whimper, making eye contact with your captor. Though you aren’t sure if it’s a plea to stop or keep going.

“You look even more gorgeous spread out for me like this. So wet. And warm.” He’s looking at your cunt like it’s the newest wonder of the world. “Doesn’t look like she has gotten the attention she needs lately. Does your boyfriend not know what he’s doing?”

His warm breath hits your core as he speaks, sending waves of warmth from the base of your spine out to your fingertips.

“He….” you aren’t sure what to say. You love your boyfriend, “he does. He just isn’t…skilled.”

A gentle kiss is placed on your mound, right above the spot that’s aching for attention. “Poor baby. Do you need me to take care of it, little dove?”

You clamp your eyes shut. You shouldn’t. This is wrong. But your traitorous pussy has other plans and you very quietly whisper yes.

His mouth is on your before you can even process what you just agreed to. A flat, wet tongue laps from your entrance to your clit a few times before he sucks your clit into his mouth. He groans deeply as he tastes you, sending a rumble straight through you. You cry out loudly and arch your back, pushing yourself into him.

“Good girl.” He says before doing it again. “I want to hear you enjoy it.”

His mouth continues to keep you on edge. Rotating between licking and sucking, adding pressure until you start breathing heavily and then easing up. You’re right on the edge, but he’s not letting you over.

“Please. Please let me come.” You beg.

He stops, looking at you with a cocky smirk, revealing that fucking dimple again. “That boyfriend of yours has been mistreating you, little dove. So worked up.”

You let a whine when he stops and begs some more. “Please. You feel so good.”

He slams two fingers deep inside of you. You’re so wet that it happens with ease and when he curls his fingers forward, right to that spongy part, you start to feel like your bones are dissolving.

“F-fuuuuuck,” you gasp.

His tongue begins to flick against your clit again, gently at first as he works you with his fingers. You can feel your arousal dripping down his hand and pooling under your ass. He starts applying more pressure with his tongue and you know that he’s going to make you come. Hard. And with your hands still tied behind your back you won’t be able to push him away when you become too sensitive. Too overly stimulated.

“Come on my little dove,” he says between licks. “Show me how good this feels.”

Your orgasm hits with a force you have never felt before. Electricity feels like it courses through your entire body and you scream out to the room, legs shaking as you cover his hand and mouth with your arousal. He doesn’t let up, sucking and licking as your orgasm feels like it lasts forever. Finally, you can’t take it anymore and you try to roll away.

“S-Stop. S’too much,” you gasp. “Please.”

He pulls his fingers from you, pinning your hips down with his forearm making you a prisoner to his tongue. He’s going to make you come again.

“I can’t,” you huff as you try to escape.

“Ssh, little dove. You can take it.” He keeps sucking and licking your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your body starts to shake, the word no escaping your lips over and over. You mean yes, but this man is overwhelming you with pleasure in a way no one ever has before, and you don’t know if you can take it.

He moans against you as he sucks, that same rumble from earlier, it consumes you and that’s what does it. You come again, grinding shamelessly against his face as he smiles up at you.

“Good girl. Fuck, I am going to ruin you for every other man. No one is going to make you come as hard, or as much as I will. Roll over.”

The fact that he’s taken you against your will is not even in your mind as you slide back into the bed to roll over. He pulls you up so your knees are resting right on the edge, fully on display for him.

“Such a perfect little pussy. And a perfect girl. Being so good for me.” You hear his belt and jeans hit the floor. Glancing back you see him naked from the waist down, pumping his cock in his hand. Your eyes widen at the size of him.

“No. It’s not gonna….I can’t do it.” You crawl up the bed to get away, laying flat on your stomach.

He climbs up behind you and hitches one of your legs up before aligning himself with your soaked entrance.

“Relax, little dove,” he whispers in your ear before gently kissing your neck. He pushes himself into you and you tense up at the size of him.

“You need to relax, baby girl.” He says deeply, “Take a deep breath. You can do this.”

You do as he says, looking over your shoulder at him and breathing deeply.

He pushes into you more, not breaking eye contact. “Good girl. Make room for me.”

He’s stretching you almost to the point of pain but you listen and breathe. The more relaxed you are the better it feels. There can’t be much more left for him to get inside of you.

“Almost there. You’re such a good little dove. One more breath baby.” Finally, you feel his hips pressed against your ass. He stays still for a second and you grind back into him.

“Fuck, stay still for a second. You’re so tight.” He gasps. Pride fills you that this big man can be brought to pieces by just the tiniest wiggle of your ass.

He takes a few breaths this time before he starts to move. He starts slow. Moving halfway out and then back in a few times. You need more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Please. Ruin me for other men like you promised.”

A hard smack lands on your ass cheek before he pumps in and out of you. He’s rough with you now, grabbing your hair and pounding as deep as he can after pulling out to the tip.

“You won’t be able to walk for a week.” He grunts before releasing your hair and spanking you again.

It’s euphoric. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. You arch your back more and he lays another slap across your ass.

“You’re not a little dove are you?” He growls as he fucks you.

“No,” you breathe. Barely able to form a thought.

“Tell me what you are.” He says, slapping your ass again.

“I’m yours. I’m your desperate, cock loving little dove.” It comes out as a whine, your orgasm growing closer.

He doesn’t stop pounding into you. “Fuck. That’s my good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

You can feel your arousal soaking the sheets below you, and hear the squelching as he fucks into you. You arch your back again so he can brush against that spot you love so much. He reaches under you, rubbing tight little circles on your clit.

“Oh….f-fuck.” You coo.

“Yea?” He taunts, “You like that? My rough fingers on your beautiful little cunt?”

His words send another rush of arousal to your core, this is wrong. You shouldn’t like this, but you’re not sure you’ll survive if he stops what he’s doing.

“N-no. Fuck you.” You try to sound mad but it hits his ears in breathy moans.

“My perfect girl.” He taunts, “Come on my big cock. Squeeze me with that tightly little pussy.”

Your vision blurs as you start to gush all over him. Your whole body tenses as wave after wave of pleasure consumes you, moaning and squealing like a woman possessed. Your legs shake so hard that you feel like you’re in the middle of an intense gym session. Slowly you gain control of your body again and he’s right, you’re ruined for all other men.

“Good fucking girl,” he says as he pulls out and climbs up the bed. “You’re so hot. Open your mouth for me, little dove.”

He pumps himself over you as you roll on your back and open your mouth. His strokes and breathing become erratic as warm ropes of come hit your tongue and face. He lets out a deep moan as he covers you.

He leans in a kisses your lips, not caring about the come on your chin or cheeks, the biggest smile crossing his face.

“Let me get you a face cloth, babe.” He says with a little laugh.

“Thank you, Joel.” You say with a wink. “And please untie me, my hands are asleep.”

He laughs, “I would, but I’m just your unskilled boyfriend now.”

He gently wipes off your face before reaching back and untying your wrists. He kisses them gently before laying back on the bed. “Was that ok?”

You curl into his arms. “It was perfect, baby.”

“Are you sure?” He squeezes you reassuringly. “You seemed genuinely scared a few times.”

“I told you I was in theatre in high school.” You laugh to yourself.

He chuckles deeply as he rubs your back. “I don’t think all of that was acting…”

You glance up to see him smiling at the ceiling, clearly very proud of himself for making you come so hard. “True, I think we need to change the sheets.”

Another gentle kiss lands on your forehead. “I love you.”

“You too, Joel. Very much.”

———————————————

Tags: @wannab-urs

[obsessedtomone]

the fruits - pilot chapter

Pairing: Shigaraki x fem!Reader Word count: 1.8k Words Setting: High school AU - No quirks Tags: Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation , Angst, Resentment, No Smut CW for this chapter: None

The atmosphere in your classroom is grim. 

What was usually a place filled with chatter, now became a grieving space. Nobody gossips, nobody laughs, nobody is paying attention to what the teacher says. And why should they?

On the desk in front of yours sits a cheap vase the school bought however many years ago, filled with three-day-old water, where the stem of a lone white lily almost floats. The flower is wilting, as if it too feels like the world has lost all meaning.

It’s religion class that you’re sitting in right now, as ironic as that is. The teacher thought it would be a good idea to bring it up, to hold a moment of silence, but it only made everyone quieter. And you…

You’re angry. So angry. You stand up very suddenly, your chair screeching as you do, and you leave in the middle of class, tight fists at your sides. Nobody stops you. Nobody cares. The teacher yells something at you, but, just like them, you don’t care. 

So you walk and walk, passing by the infirmary, by the stairwell, by the cursed freaking student counseling office, one foot in front of the other.

There’s stairs, then your P.E teacher who tries to stop you, but you start running until you lose him. Until you’re outside and reach the back of the school, between the buildings, where all the delinquents and future-to-be criminals skip school and hang out to do drugs, or whatever those stupid rumors you heard say about them.

It’s dark in there, the narrow space mostly shielded from the sun, and unlike your classroom, you can hear the laughter, the chatter. Your fingernails dig into the palm of your hands, your knuckles turn white and you walk forward, swallowing your pride, swallowing your fear, and swallowing whatever was left of your former self.

A pair of yellow eyes spot you closing in first, the blonde girl with tied buns that you’ve seen harassing multiple students, having stopped applying nail-polish and now giving you her attention fully. You go on and are about to look away, but then she smiles, wide and toothy, and her canines are so sharp, you’d mistake her for a modern-day vampire.

“Are you lost?” she says, tone light, euphoric and creepy, getting the attention of ten other pairs of eyes, but not the ones you’re headed towards. Not the ones of your nightmares.

You don’t pay them any mind and you side-step her, but a strong arm stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, she asked you a question.” 

His piercings glitter from the little light that’s coming from behind you. You yank your arm away from him, ignore the foul smell of cigarettes, and continue walking.

“Oooh, she’s feisty!” you hear some other asshole say, but you can’t be bothered to figure out who. “I think she’s here for the boss.”

And there he is, too, sitting on top of a stolen classroom desk. His back is against the wall, both of his legs bent at the knees, while his elbows are resting on top, and said legs are spread apart nonchalantly. He seems completely immersed in whatever switch game he has the audacity to play right now, and the clothes you’ve always seen him wearing are black. Black, black, black. As if he too, is in mourning. As if he’d ever have the right to.

But he’s not. And that’s why you’re here.

The mop of white hair doesn’t pay you any mind, even as you’re standing in front of him. You extend a shaky arm over his switch, and that’s when his vermillion eyes snap at you.

“Give it back,” you say, balancing your weight on your feet, ignoring the pit in your stomach.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to look back down at his game, fully focused, as if you weren’t there to begin with. 

Unprocessed fury courses through every cell of your being, and you yank the console from his hands, smashing it against the wall next to his head, marking it the first time you’ve ever lashed out at anybody. Ever. 

He didn’t even flinch.

“Are you deaf?” you seethe, and he tilts his head downwards, lazy like a cat, as one of his hands goes up to his neck and starts scratching it.

“That’s gonna cost you.”

“I don’t give a damn!” you yell in his face, and he rolls his eyes, before suddenly sliding one foot in your direction, almost hitting you in the stomach if you hadn't stepped back. 

Panic takes over the adrenaline, goosebumps forming on every surface of your skin, as his menacing eyes stare at you and he rolls his shoulders. You don’t run like others would, however, fully ready to take him on.

He places five fingers against the desk, and your lungs lose the ability to fill with air. Instinct has you taking another step back, and you watch as he effortlessly shoves himself off of the damaged piece of furniture and onto the ground, feet landing with equal ease before he recalibrates his posture, his lanky figure now facing you fully. Towering over your form, like an unforgiving god would.

His arms move and you cower, but the pain doesn’t come. 

Instead, you hear the grit on the concrete being stepped on as he’s walking by you, both hands inside the pockets of his hoodie.

“Expect a bill,” he says so simply, as if it isn’t him you’d rather be lying, all six feet under.

Then he walks off, leaving you in the dust, and the group that’s been watching your stage play looks at you with amusement. With pity.

Because you’re not even worth his time. Not his time, not his efforts. 

They all get out of his way, and he’s about to step into the light, before you slide your foot backwards, lean in, put your arm in front of you and…

“Uh-oh!” someone shouts, but the world is too much of a flurry of movement to be able to tell who it was. “Shigs, watch out!”

Shigaraki doesn’t get to turn fully, before you tackle him down with all your might, the both of you hitting the concrete hard.

He groans, eyes scrunched closed, but you’re in his face, fists full of the material of his hoodie and you yell your heart out to him as you’re stretching out the fabric.

“It’s your fault! All o-of it!” you scream at him, and the rubies finally focus on the ugly of your crying face. “Why—Why did you do it? Why won’t you give it back! Just give it back!”

Droplets of your spit land on his cheek, and your head drops abruptly, as you sob into his chest. He’s lying under you unmoving, frozen, and you can’t tell what kind of expression he’s making. The sounds don’t make sense to you, the world doesn’t make sense to you, the pain in your chest is overwhelming, until it’s not. And you sit yourself up just barely, face full of tears, full of your snot, your grip feeling too weak to keep holding onto him.

He’s not paying attention to you still, and you feel something against one of your exposed knees, thighs covered by the skirt of your uniform, pressed against each side of his hips as you’re sitting on top of his stomach. It’s his finger you feel and he’s thumbing at the dripping blood of your scraped skin, when suddenly the stinging pain feels too real, making you jerk backwards.

“Get a room!” you hear the raven-haired guy say, and every other asshole starts laughing at that.

Shigaraki’s eyes widen, before his face scrunches up in utter revulsion and he violently shoves you off of him. Through the blur of the liquid helplessness in your eyes, you see him get up, before standing and looking down at you. Looking down on you. Then he’s spinning on his heel and turns to leave. Like you’re nothing.

His friends start snickering, and in the corner of your eyes, you see an offered hand from the girl with blonde space buns. You immediately smack it away and glare at her coldly, feeling the debris and other little pebbles digging into your wound, as you get up and leave as well. 

“She's so mean! I really like her!” the girl says behind you, but you’re tired, limping out of the narrow hideout for hooligans and in the direction of your home.

“Give it back.”

It’s the next day, and you’re standing in front of a desk. Just not your desk. 

You’re standing in front of a desk that looks so beat-up, the school probably couldn’t even reuse it, if these assholes even thought to bring it back. And on top of countless scribbles, scratches made with knives and various styles of graffiti, are the legs of two red converse shoes, stretched out and laying on top of each other.

“Tch.”

His fingers tap at the buttons of a brand-new console, and his brow is now furrowed, because once again, you’re here to disturb his peace.

“Touch it and you’re dead,” he grumbles when you step forward. “What do you want?”

He finally puts his console down and folds his hands on top of his slightly raised knee, fingers overlapping each other like he’s some well-established villain.

“It’s not yours. Give it back to me.”

“Give what back?” he asks, tilting his head, and you catch the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“The hairpin.”

He looks down, towards the still-scraped knees that you didn’t bother to bandage, and then back at you.

“No,” he says, decisively.

You grit your teeth. “Why?”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to…” you repeat, trying to contain the pure hatred and resentment that’s festered inside of you for over a year now. “Okay.”

“Uh-huh. Will you fuck off now?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself,” he says dismissively, grabbing his handheld again and resuming the game.

“Oh my god, can we keep her?” Space buns pops in and you step away from them both with a disgusted grimace.

“No,” he replies.

“I’ll do it.”

The girl tilts her head in sweet confusion, and Shigaraki lifts his half-lidded gaze to look at you again. 

“Do what?” he asks.

“Anything. Everything. I’ll do it.” You swallow thickly. “For the hairpin.”

And for the first time since you’d enrolled in this hellhole, Shigaraki looks genuinely taken aback. The girl seems to pick up on some situational cue, and leaves you both be, with an unsettling giggle.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you repeat.

For if I’m going down, 

I guess I’ll take you with me.

[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 1.30

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Shooting, choking, Hyun-su being a sweetie <3. Word Count: 2,280

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Watching the elevator doors close and separate you and the people inside from Eun-hyuk and everyone outside made you feel queasy. The sight of Hyun-su lying unconscious on the floor didn’t help with your nausea either. The leader wouldn’t take his eyes off you as you made weak efforts to escape the clutches of the person restraining you. He didn’t even blink until the bell dung signaling you were at the top floor. 

The person holding you, and you by result, were the first to follow the leader out when he exited the elevator. Meanwhile, two of the thugs behind you were in charge of dragging Hyun-su and all of you ascended the stairs up to the roof. You cringed every time the thugs let Hyun-su's legs bump against the steps loudly. Ui-myeong was the last to leave the elevator and follow behind them.

The man in front of you stretched his arms wide and sighed when he crossed the final step and reached the roof. The sun was just starting to set over the horizon and it left the remaining streams of light to shine in a golden glow over each of you. It would have been a beautiful sunset if you had the opportunity to enjoy it without all the chaos that was happening. 

You remained in the bandana guy’s grip the entire time; he didn’t falter it for a second. Even as he held up a lighter in one of his hands to light his boss’s cigarette, he still didn’t falter his grip. 

“Let’s just burn him,” he suggested. You stilled your movements, utterly terrified they would do that and make you watch as the boy lost his life. 

“Mm-mm,” the leader denied with a shake of his head. “That’s no fun,” he looked over the edge of the building thoughtfully before a grin lit up his face. “Will the fall kill him?” He asked finally. You knew personally it wouldn’t but you didn’t want to tell him that in fear they would try something else. It may have been selfish but you would’ve rather Hyun-su fall from this height and get a few injuries that he could recover from instead of possibly die from whatever other method of torture the leader had brewing in his mind. “No, wait. Let’s gut him, huh? Or should I cut off his head and keep it as a souvenir?” He asked rhetorically, unintentionally confirming your point.

The bandana guy laughed nervously. “No…”

“He’s not human anyway,” he reasoned before his eyes set on you. “Have you got nothing to say little bird? You were fighting so hard to get out of your cage earlier,” he pouted mockingly. “Now you look too terrified to move. Ooh, I have an idea,” he grinned. “Maybe we should make you watch? Kill that little sister of yours if you don’t? What do you think?”

Your eyes widened in fear for the girl but you didn’t get a chance to answer when Hyun-su rose to stand up and started walking towards the roof’s entrance. You felt a mix of relief and betrayal as you thought about him leaving you alone with this group. 

“What are you going to do? Are you going to leave your girl here, lover boy?” The leader teased again. Hyun-su didn’t falter with his steps even at the mention of you and he kept walking until he got shot in the back of the shoulder by the man. 

He fell to the ground just as he reached the entrance and breathed heavily, trying to overcome the pain. He grabbed the flimsy metal gate that covered the entrance and slammed it shut with him still out on the roof with you. The betrayal and relief both disappeared from your system, replaced with a different relief and then fear; relief that he wasn’t leaving you and fear that he wasn’t leaving.

After that, he stood and turned around to face the group. “Nobody gets down from here,” he promised them, but his eyes landing on yours told a different story. 

‘Nobody except for you.’

“I see… You’re pretty tough,” the leader praised as he wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bandana guy, consequently bringing you closer to him as well. Hyun-su’s eyes narrowed in on the action and you saw the rage building inside them. “You don’t seem to get the picture here. I’ll kill you slowly, as many times as I want, all while making your little princess here,” he condescendingly grabbed your cheek like a grandmother would a baby. “Watch each one.”

He then started walking toward the boy, raising his gun and you started thrashing again, screaming out your protests until suddenly something stopped him in his tracks. 

Blood spurted from his mouth as a tentacle appendage punctured into his throat and lifted him off the ground. You followed the limb down from where it went through his neck and saw it was attached to Ui-myeong. 

He walked him backward, raising him over the barrier of the roof so he was dangling over the edge. Ui-myeong clicked his tongue in disappointment. “You crossed the line this time, Jung-seop.”

When he yanked his hand back and the man started to fall, you could only watch in a mix of horror and fascination. You could only wonder, was he the same type of monster as Hyun-su? Was he the kind who was able to take control of his monster and not give up his humanity? 

The guilty relief you felt at the loud satisfying crash signaling the death of the leader - only feeling guilty because it was a human life that was lost - was cut short when one of the men off to the side pulled the trigger to their gun and sent a bullet into Ui-myeong’s neck just as he turned around. He fell backwards and you almost thought your predictions about him being the same as Hyun-su were incorrect until he righted himself and the bullet was sent flying back into the man who shot it with incredible speed. 

The man holding you froze with fear, not even noticing his arm around you had tightened to a point where you were choking but you couldn’t bring yourself to try and get out of it. You were so exhausted; not to mention, you were a little scared too. 

Ui-myeong approached the two of you, his eyes staring down at you before he looked at the bandana guy. “You want that too?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“No…” the man protested, shaking his head lightly. “No, no. I don’t… I don’t want that, please.”

Ui-myeong seemed content with that answer as he gently unraveled the guy’s arm from around your neck and you started gasping for air. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you surprisingly didn’t flinch at the touch when he did and started to lead you over to Hyun-su with him. You stumbled with each step but he kept you steady. When you looked at Hyun-su, he seemed just as shocked in place as you were and it made sense why he didn’t come after you immediately. When you got close enough, though, he snapped out of it and reached for you, pulling you into him for a hug. You gripped his bloodied sweater and breathed, just trying to get everything in your body under your control again. 

“I like that look on your face,” Ui-myeong told the boy holding you and you could practically hear the smile on his face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A helicopter flew by overhead and you snapped your head up to look at it. When you did, you saw a bunch of orange fliers falling from the sky. 

The boy across from you leaned down to pick one up from the floor and looked at it before his attention focused on the bullet wound in Hyun-su’s chest. He touched it gently and sighed. “It must hurt. I know how it feels,” he confessed. “You can never get used to it.”

“Why did you kill him?” Hyun-su asked him the question that had been burning in your mind ever since he dropped Jung-seop over the edge of the roof. 

“Well, I thought you’d be grateful especially since I saved your girl from having to watch you die instead,” he looked at you and caressed a strand of your hair with his bloodied hand. You couldn’t bring yourself to muster the energy to pull away so instead you just let him. 

“But the two of you were on the same side, weren’t you?” You asked him. Your face was still partially buried in Hyun-su’s sweater but your voice was loud enough to be heard. 

Ui-myeong laughed like you made the funniest joke. “How can a wolf and a rabbit be on the same side? Oh, you’re adorable. The rabbit was pretending to be a wolf so I just played along,” he explained. “But there’s no need for that now,” his gaze returned to looking Hyun-su in the eyes. He raised his hands in an innocent gesture before saying, “It’s not a crime for a wolf to kill a rabbit. That just makes sense in this crazy world now.”

“There are monsters that don’t harm… humans,” Hyun-su told him in a way that almost seemed judgemental but you were inclined to believe it wasn’t. 

“Yeah? Do you know of one? Because I haven’t seen one like that anywhere.”

The two stared at each other for a moment before Hyun-su leaned down and wrapped one arm under your knees and the other around your back. He lifted you up bridal style and you squealed before he turned around and walked into the staircase. Ui-myeong followed behind him. 

“Hyun-su, what are you doing?” You asked him, cautiously wrapping your arms around his neck as he started walking down the stairs. 

“You were stumbling earlier. I don’t want you to have to walk,” he said quietly. It was a sweet gesture and you smiled while placing your head against his shoulder. “How’s your side feeling?”

You shrugged the best you could in your current position. “Could be better. I don’t think moving and thrashing as much as I was helped it but I’ll live.”

“You better,” he said under his breath so softly you wouldn’t have heard him if you weren’t so close. 

The rest of the walk as he descended to the 14th floor was spent in silence. The trip was short considering the building was only 15 stories and it was only a floor difference. He walked down the hall before stopping in front of door 1408 and walking inside. 

Ui-myeong looked around the room curiously while you were placed down gently on the bed in the corner. 

To be honest, it had been so long since you’d last slept in a bed that just the feeling of it mixed with how exhausted your body was made you feel close to dozing off while sitting up. You completely tuned out the conversation the boys were having as you tried everything to keep yourself awake. 

Eventually, you failed and found yourself passed out on the bed. 

Meanwhile, Ui-myeong turned away from the baby monster in the bathroom once he grabbed his coat and looked at Hyun-su. “But will there be humans that don’t harm monsters?” He pulled out the folded flier that the helicopter distributed when you were on the roof and tapped it against Hyun-su’s chest. The text on the paper said:

SPECIAL INFECTEE REPORT GUIDE.

WE GUARANTEE THE SAFETY OF ANYONE WHO REPORTS A SPECIAL INFECTEE. YOU WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO A SAFE CAMP. 

It was utter bullshit and anyone who was paying attention would be able to figure that out, but the majority of the people downstairs would probably be too scared to think straight and view it as an opportunity to be saved. “Do you still think those people you’re trying to protect will welcome you after reading this?” He asked him with a tilt of his head. Then, he pointed to where you were lying down on the bed. “Do you think she will?”

Hyun-su looked over at your sleeping face and wished he could imprint it into his mind forever. Every moment he’d spent with you in the past month flashed through his mind. Every kindness, every laugh, every smile, every hug. It made him more than sure that even though he had doubts about every person waiting for him downstairs, he would trust you, always and forever.

You wouldn’t turn him in even if he asked you to and that was something he was sure of. 

So, instead of answering his question right away, Hyun-su walked over to where you lay and kneeled in front of you. Your face was peaceful as you slept and it made his heart flutter. As he brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face, he smiled softly. “She will. I know she will.”

“How about we find out.”

You’d woken up very shortly after you fell asleep and found yourself in Hyun-su’s arms again but this time in the elevator. It was descending slowly and you watched the numbers go down.

11

10

9

8

It kept lowering and you finally really noticed you were still in Hyun-su’s arms. “You can put me down now, it might be weird for the group to see me being carried for no reason,” you reasoned as you ignored the heating of your cheeks. 

He nodded reluctantly and placed you down just in time for the elevator to descend the last 3 final floors and open to the lobby. 

Ding!

~

A/N: I don't know why the number for the elevator floors are so big if you're reading this on a computer. Idk how to fix them so we will just have to endure it.

Taglist <3

@hyeon-yi

@haowonbins

@mythical-mushrooms13

@visualconcern

@yomsy

[atarathegreat]

Something's Wrong.

The day had been as normal as it had ever been for Mikey. He'd been up all night, at six in the morning he made coffee so it would be fresh for his girlfriend when she woke up, and gave her sleeping face the most gentle of kisses before he left to deal with Bonten business.

Every morning was the same routine. A sleep deprived man wandering around the house with his own dark and gloomy aura in the cozy atmosphere a woman worked hard to make. As if someone had turned all the serene feelings into an air freshener and the sun was bathing everything in a caramel layer. Too early to wake anyone up, and too late for him to go to bed. All the same, he was calm and liked how he clashed with his girlfriends vision for the house.

Despite the normalcy of the morning, that carried lightly to noon, Mikey felt....well it wasn't uneasy, he lacked the ability to feel uneasy anymore, but maybe off. Wrong, that's the closest he could describe it to himself. Uncomfortable, but not enough that it bothered him more than a simple thought now and then. Mikey ran through his routine once more. Watch the sun rise, brew coffee, kiss Y/n's head, leave without waking her up. He hadn't missed a step, not a single speck of dust was left out of his movements. Was it because he hadn't made the same amount of coffee as he did the previous day? Or maybe it was off because he had kissed Y/n's cheek and not her forehead as he always opted to do? Mikey didn't have the time nor energy to think about it and analyze the little details until it made sense.

Ran yanked his gun back, upset that his holster had been broken (Rindou didn't care as much because the plastic was started to become tacky and clash with his brothers suits). Sanzu, who was constantly wanting to do Mikey's bidding, was keeping his cohorts away from his kings woman.

And he didn't have to. It was afternoon, twenty minutes past time for the girl to be knocking. Y/n always brought him dinner, she knew he wouldn't be home until well after and she wanted to be sure he at least had food to eat. But, she had yet to knock softly on the door to the filled meeting room, had yet to grace the room with her sweet smile and soft voice telling everyone hello as she made her way to Mikey's side where he would watch her from the side of his eye as she took the small lunchbox from her bag and set it in front of him. She was predictable, and to others it was painful how she always did the same things in the same order at the same times. Today was different.

The whole room went silent as she slammed through the door, a very overt expression of fear etched into her face as she jerked on Ran's gun. The plastic holster cracked and busted when she pulled, freeing the smaller weapon so she could turn and hold the door open with her shoulder. Mikey hadn't moved, he was curious as to what was going on. Why was his sweet girl so afraid? What did she need to take a gun for? Both questions he was sure would be answered when his men rushed Y/n, a little too late. She'd aimed, as Mikey had taught her to, and fired with her eyes closed. Only then did the room register all the yells and the terrified screams coming from the open office space.

"Back! Get back!" Sanzu yelled, one hand moving to cover Y/n's eyes, "Get away from her! I'll gut you both!" And yet, Rindou wasn't phased, "Shut up, Sanzu! She just killed one of our guys!"

"Sanzu-san?" Her pathetic whisper made him want to slap her up the side of her head. How could she sound so scared after pulling the trigger so easily? "Walk me to Mikey, please?" And finally he knew there was one thing he had to force himself to do for Mikey. He didn't like the girl, how pathetic and weak she was, and he failed to understand why his boss was so enthralled by her. Was it her scent? She did have an enticing perfume on.

The pink haired male was busy glaring at the brothers as Y/n reached up to grab his slender fingers, "I don't care if she was holding a damn knife to your throat! Get back!"

Mikey had his hand out as Sanzu walked the weakling to him, disgust turning his gut as she fell into him. Against his wishes, Sanzu did like the pathetic woman before him. Like Mikey, Sanzu was trapped by the sweet and innocent nature the woman held for men like them. She should've shot every one of those men around her.

"Mikey." Her sobs would've clutched the leaders heart if he had heard them years earlier, but now Mikey could only nod and sigh to her. "It's alright, baby. Tell me what happened." It wasn't a question he asked because he cared, he just had to know because it happened in his organization. How would he tell the others anything if he didn't know?

"He was beating her, Mikey...I couldn't just watch..." Her whimpers almost made Mikey want to stop questioning her. Almost.

"The man, he was hurting one of the ladies." Y/n still didn't open her eyes, waiting for the order from Mikey that it was okay. He'd told her when he taught her to shoot; aim, but the second you pull the trigger you better close your eyes. She wasn't one to disobey.

Instead, he sighed and pulled her shaking body into his lap. She reminded him of a shaking kitten, one that had been left in the rain or had been kicked around. "You don't have to defend the wh-" Mikey paused before he said whores, Y/n didn't like when they all called the ladies an awful thing like that, "The ladies. She was probably getting a punishment for something."

"No!" She protested quickly and loudly, dissipating any thought of a mistreated kitten Mikey had, "They don't deserve to be treated so wrongly when they're doing such a disturbing job."

"They chose this job." Mikey wiped his thumbs over her eyes, watching as she slowly opened them. If there was nothing else he was capable of loving about her, it was her eyes. The way the colors mixed and molded together, and he was given the privilege to be so close that he could see the way heaven rested in them. She had angels in the tiniest flecks of color around her pupils, and he could see the devil himself reflected in them. "They knew the risks when they came to work here."

"It's wrong, Mikey." She scolded him, tears in her eyes as he tried to justify such horrible treatment, "No one should be treated the way that woman was."

Ran stomped in, anger sewn into his brows, "Well, the whores dead, too. He killed her before the Missus could shoot." Rindou was right behind him, "One less person to pay."

Mikey chuckled when Y/n's face fell, the desperation in her eyes was funny to him. Had she truly expected a good deed to be rewarded? "Go home. Let me handle this situation and I'll deal with you when I get home." Mikey pushed her off him, "Sanzu, walk her past it. Don't let her see anything."

"Of course, Mikey." Sanzu carefully placed his fingers over Y/n's eyes, leading her, a little too quickly for her liking, past the scene. He stopped, indulging himself for a brief second and whispering in her ear, "Would you like to see? My first murder was beautiful. This one isn't, but it's still good. You have magnificent aim. Though, you were taught by the Invincible Mikey."

He didn't expect her to harden herself to him, after years of being nothing but sweet and welcoming. Such a harsh voice, "Do as you're told, Sanzu-san."

In reality, she hadn't wanted to be so harsh with the man. No matter how mean or upsetting to her Sanzu had been, she wasn't worried about it. He was and always would be Sanzu-san, she liked him, in only the way you can like someone who's rude by nature. The lady died from her punishment, and Y/n punished the man by the same fate, and Mikey would be punishing her when he returned home that night. Sanzu didn't need to be part of that fucked up train simply because he couldn't control himself. Y/n just wanted to save him the trouble.

Y/n paced the empty house. One would think that with Mikey having a ton of money from running Bonten, that he would want some huge house. But no. He was a more nostalgic person than even he was aware, and continued to live in his childhood home. All the old photos still hung on the wall. Emma and him, the two younger kids with his older brother and even pictures of their grandpa and grandma. It didn't bother Y/n that Mikey wouldn't let her move them or even add new photos, she understood that Mikey needed something to keep him grounded to earth, and it was fine that it wasn't her. She knew she wasn't strong enough to keep his mind right, no one was, and no one could even hope to fix him.

"Y/n." Mikey's voice was followed by the front door opening. She'd stopped pacing hours before, opting to sit in the kitchen where she would be seen the second he peeked in. And he did.

"You upset quite some people today." He muttered, walking across the small kitchen to grab a coffee mug. Each step was deliberately silent, almost scary in a sense, "What do you think?"

And if the gods would've reached down and dragged her away, would she protest? She knew she was going to be punished. Would she die willingly to avoid it?

"I did what I thought I needed to. I wanted to help that woman." Y/n whispered, wringing her hands in her lap as she struggled to come to grips with what would happen.

"And you failed anyway."

It was a harsh thing to hear. She had failed, and she killed a man. She killed one of Mikey's men.

Mikey tapped her under chin, hard enough that a slight sting echoed across her skin, "You killed a man today in the attempt to save a whore. A whore who died anyway. I won't make you suffer any more than that knowledge is going to make you already. Buy Ran a new holster for his belt so I don't have to hear about it, okay."

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love I

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: An awkward meeting leads to an awkward wedding leads to an awkward night.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, forced marriage, awkwardness, canon level violence, cursing, mentions of childbirth.

Word Count: 4k

Masterlist

“Y/N? Your father wants to see you,” one of the maids informed her as she laid in the sun, absorbing the warmth.

“Where is he?” the heiress asked, turning to look at the maid with a squint despite her sunglasses already blocking the sun.

“His study,” the maid answered with a kind smile. “He told me he has a meeting in half-an-hour so you should hurry.”

“Thank you,” the girl said, dismissing her as she threw a sundress over her body to cover up. She quickly walked into the penthouse of the New York skyscraper, intent to find her father. When Viggo Tarasov requested your presence, you went to him. Especially if you were his family. His daughter was eternally at his beck and call, doing everything he wanted, no matter what. Mostly making appearances when he couldn’t and when they were too complicated or important for her stupid brother. She paced the familiar path to her father’s study on the top floor, considering what he needed. There weren’t any events that she knew of that she’d have to attend in his place. Maybe it was a slightly more informal dinner.

Her questions ceased as she finally reached her father’s study, knocking on the door to be let in. Once her father granted access, she softly opened the door to enter, closing it behind her. “You wanted to see me, oтец?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, beckoning her closer. She sat across from his desk in an uncomfortably sleek chair, concern starting to set in. He looked stressed, as if afraid to tell her something. “I have some news,” he began nervously, delaying the inevitable. “You’re getting married,” he blurted out.

His daughter just stared at him, blinking rapidly. “What?” Arranged marriages in the mob weren’t unheard of but they were usually more of a suggestion than force. She was also blindsided by the fact that she was being pushed to be married so young, having thought she had earned enough of her father’s respect to not just be forced into the wife role. “Do I at least get a say in this?”

“Доча, the needs of the family come before us as individuals. Our family needs you to get married.”

“To who?” she demanded.

The nervous look came over Viggo’s face again. He sat back in his chair, fiddling with his pen as he considered his next words. “One of my men. I’ve sensed that he’s slipping and I need to keep him loyal. He’s too invaluable to me to let go and if he’s married to my daughter, then we’ll be family. He’s an honorable man, he won’t betray family.”

“If he’s slipping will he even want to marry me?” she prodded against her father’s plan, doubting it’s validity.

“Every man that has ever worked for me would kill to be the one to marry you,” Viggo told his daughter. She uncomfortably pulled the hem of her sundress down, suddenly feeling self conscious of all the times she had walked around her own home scantily clad.

“Then who is it?” she asked the most dreaded question.

Viggo sighed before answering. “John Wick.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “As in Baba Yaga?” she asked. She had heard of her father’s favorite assassin’s brutality. Rumor had it, her father had decided to hire him after he murdered three men with a pencil in a bar fight.

“Yes,” her father confirmed. “But don’t fear. He is an honorable man. He will protect you. He has been the one to watch you when I didn’t need him for another task.”

The heiress’ eyes opened impossibly wider. She knew of the regular security that surrounded her whenever she was working for her father, but not of the deadliest assassin.

“Come,” Viggo began, standing up. “You can meet him,” he said, taking advantage of her shocked state. She followed obediently, too surprised to really argue. He led her to the door, simply opening it to reveal The Boogeyman sitting on a sofa in the foyer of the top floor. Upon noticing the door open, John stood to greet his boss and fiancée.

“Доча, I want you to meet John Wick, your fiancé,” Viggo smiled, introducing his daughter to his best assassin. John felt wrong looking down at the twenty-year old girl. Her eyes were wide with poorly disguised fear. She was clearly informed of his role in her father’s mob and was afraid of him—rightfully so. Given her current reaction, in the past she had had no idea of his presence when he was tasked with her safety. Now, as her husband, he would be her bodyguard 24/7.

The assassin strode up to her confidently, extending his hand, trying his best to not seem like a threat. She reacted, placing her hand in his, allowing him to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Y/N,” he greeted with the slightest nod. He had to admit, a part of him felt lucky to marry Viggo Tarasov’s daughter. There were no shortage of inappropriate comments made about her passed among Viggo’s men. Although, John ultimately felt pity, knowing that she was more than likely being forced into this.

“Mr. Wick,” she greeted slightly awkwardly, unsure how to behave in this situation.

John chuckled slightly, endeared by her nervousness. “Call me John,” he insisted. “You will be my wife within the month. I think we can be on a first name basis,” he tried to put her at ease. But instead she tensed up again, turning to her father.

“We’ll be married within the month?”

Both Viggo’s assassin and daughter could see his guilt despite his efforts to remain in control in front of his employee. “Yes,” he confirmed once again. “Best to get it over with. Neither I nor John have the time for you to plan a wedding. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he dismissed himself, quickly retreating back into his study.

The newfound couple watched him go, unimpressed with the way he just shut himself up in his office, waiting for his blindsided daughter to go away. John turned to his bride, admiring her furrowed brows and locked jaw. When he was told of him impending marriage he had been afraid that he’d just be locked further into his contract with Viggo. But that tiny display of defiance gave him hope that he could love Tarasov’s daughter, and that maybe one day she’d love him back.

~

Y/N found herself standing in front of the chapel doors in a plain white dress, clutching a bouquet of flowers that didn’t match with the colors of the flowers dotting what she could see of the venue.

“Stop fussing,” her father reprimanded, tired of her fidgeting. She immediately halted, resisting the urge to tap her fingers against the bouquet or tap her foot.

Eventually the music changed and the doors swung open. The bride didn’t even process the slow trek down the aisle until she was being handed off to her soon to be husband. And even then she didn’t hear any of the officiant’s words, all she could focus on were John’s large, rough, warm hands holding hers. And then all of a sudden those hands were on her jaw, giving her a brief yet sweet kiss.

It wasn’t until they had reached one of the private rooms away from the crowd that the bride felt herself breathe for the first time that day. “Are you ok?” John asked his new wife, having noticed her blank yet anxious stare as soon as he had lifted the veil over her head.

“Yeah,” she breathed out. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

John nodded, noticing a pitcher of water and some glasses that had been set aside for them on a table. He grabbed it, pouring his bride a glass of water before bringing it over to her. He handed it to her wordlessly while gently guiding her to a loveseat. She took a seat as he sat next to her, watching her as she focused intently on the glass in her hand.

The assassin took a deep breath, preparing to say the words he needed to get out before everyone came looking for the newlyweds. “Look, I know you didn’t choose this and I'm sorry. I know I scare you given the stories you hear and what I do for your father but I swear to you that I will be a good husband. No one will ever hurt you, I’ll make sure of that. And I will be whatever you want or need. I can be your husband, your friend, or I can just hide in the shadows and we’ll only see each other at thanksgiving and Christmas,” he offered, eliciting a light chuckle. “Whatever you want I'm there for you. But no matter what life you choose—leaving this all behind or running the whole mob yourself—I will always protect you.”

The bride’s gaze flickered down, finding his hand resting on his thigh. She reached out, grasping it in her smaller hand. “Thank you,” she said. John nodded gratefully but he was more grateful for her voluntary touch. “I know this wasn’t your choice either so don’t feel obligated to stay.”

“I want to,” he assured her, their gazes locked. But hearing footsteps approaching the door, John’s gaze flicked up just as the door opened. Viggo came in along with his lawyer, the officiant, Iosef, and a few other members of the Tarasov family.

“Отец,” Y/N greeted, standing up.

“You did good,” Viggo praised his daughter, pressing a kiss to each cheek. “Before we get all the paperwork started, I’d like to give you my gift,” he smiled as John came to stand next to his bride.

“That’s not necessary, sir,” John insisted like he was supposed to. “You’ve already done too much.” Like pay for my loyalty with your child and a wedding no one asked for.

“I insist. Anything for my daughter and new son-in-law,” the mob boss smiled. He then pulled an envelope from his pocket, handing it to his daughter.

She opened it, eyes widening when she saw two tickets to France along with a few other payments. “Отец! Thank you but you didn’t have to.”

Viggo’s smile grew wider, noticing the way John seemed to squirm. They both knew what was happening. Every “gift” the mob boss gave to the assassin and his daughter was another nail in the coffin for John. He’d be indebted to Tarasov family forever. “Like I said, anything for my daughter and son-in-law. Now let’s get the boring stuff out of the way so we can get the party started.”

The couple smiled nervously at the mob boss, each taking a seat at the table where several documents had been laid out. They signed the standard marriage documents quickly but when it came to the mob’s documents, they took longer. John meticulously read over each one, looking mildly conflicted before signing each one. No one spoke as they progressed through the mountain of papers. Each one slid over to the bride was only there for enough time for her to sign, before either John or the lawyer took it away from her. Once she was done, her bridesmaid was let into the room, ushering her back to the bridal suite while the men continued to sign documents and make snide comments.

Eventually the couple was reunited in order to enter their reception and have their first dance. “Sorry about the lifetime of mind games you’re about to endure,” Y/N murmured.

John kept his face stern, observing his wife’s entire family over her head. “Don’t apologize, I’ve been playing these games all my life.”

She just let out a soft hum as her husband spun her around the dance floor. “What was on those documents no one would let me read? You can tell me, I’ve handled more unsavory deals for my father.”

John considered her words. “It was mostly just stuff about my loyalty to the Tarasovs. Those contracts are air tight. We can never get divorced.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Her response hung in the air between them like a wedge. In their very brief time together, Y/N had decided she didn’t want to divorce John. She thought he felt the same based on their earlier conversation but she must have misinterpreted.

“They also tried to sneak in a clause about producing an heir,” he added casually.

“What?” she said, her voice louder than intended. She also froze where she stood, completely taken aback by the news. But John tugged her along the dance floor anyways, trying to cover up her slight blunder.

“Relax,” he urged, feeling how tense she had become. “I had them take it out once you left.” The bride relaxed slightly, relieved. “It said we had to have a child each year until we had a son but I made them remove any mention of us having a child.”

She shuddered at the thought of being so carefully watched but was extremely grateful for John’s protection. “Thanks for that. I… uh…” she didn’t even know what to say. She didn’t want to have a baby so young. She especially didn’t want to be forced to have one every year until she had a boy. What was this? the 15th century?

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her as the song ended.

There were a few cheers from the crowd as the couple walked over to their table before being served. Despite spending practically the whole night in their seats, they hardly ate. The bride was having her attention constantly pulled towards other relatives while the groom was keeping a constant eye out for any threats. This was supposed to be his now family, he had worked with them for years. But given the amount of paperwork he just had to sign, Viggo Tarasov didn’t trust him and in return, John didn’t trust his father-in-law one bit.

Eventually the couple was able to retire to their suite for the night, both giving them a chance to breathe and to answer the most awkward question of the night: would they consummate their marriage?

As John opened the door, allowing his wife to step in, she froze as soon as she entered. The room was lavish. There was a gold dish piled with strawberries next to a bottle of iced champagne. Rose petals and candles littered the room, surrounding the plush looking bed that had rose petals forming a heart. But most horrifyingly, there was a set of white lingerie in the center of the heart. But before she could do anything about it, John was snatching the lace up, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry, I told them not to do all of this,” he apologized, turning to his wife.

She just wrapped her arms around herself, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “Guess they still really want us to have a son,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Her husband gave her a smile, going over to grab their bags that had been placed by the door. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the floor,” he offered.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that,” she insisted, feeling bad. “The bed is more than big enough. We can share. No strings attached,” she offered.

He nodded before grabbing some things out of his bag and locking himself into the en-suite bathroom. She immediately took the opportunity mess up the petals on the bed before turning on the tv to have some background noise. Seeing as John was in the bathroom and she was beginning to get uncomfortable in the dress, she went to her bag to grab the pajamas she had packed. But instead was met by even more lingerie having replaced the comfy sweatpants and tshirt she packed. She let out a frustrated groan. What did they expect her to wear tomorrow if they had taken all her clothes? Grabbing her phone from out of her bag, she frustratedly called her cousin who acted as her maid of honor.

“Caterina,” she whisper-yelled through the phone, “where the hell are all my clothes.”

A few giggles could be heard over the phone and she had a feeling she was on speaker phone with all the other bridesmaids too. “So I see you thought you could get away with not making love to your husband tonight,” Caterina teased.

“How-,” she disregarded her own question. “Gross, don’t phrase it that way.”

“Well it’s true. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Second, you wouldn’t even know your clothes were missing if you hadn’t disregarded the bridal set on the bed.”

“Well what am I supposed to wear tomorrow then? Did you even consider that?”

“Yes I did,” she stated smugly. “Your clothes will be delivered in the morning but in the meantime try on a few sets.” More giggles came over the phone.

“I hate you,” the embarrassed bride said before hanging up the phone.

She turned, trying to work up the nerve to ask her husband to borrow some clothes when the door to the bathroom swung open. He was now dressed in only a white tank top still tucked into his tux pants. In his hand was a pile of folded clothes which he held out to her before placing them on the bed. “I heard your conversation,” he explained.

“Thanks,” she said, relieved. “Just one thing. Can you… um… help me?” she asked sheepishly, pointing to the back of her dress. It was held in place by several buttons running down her back and it had taken two of her bridesmaids buttoning to get it on in a timely manner.

“Sure,” he said, stepping closer as she turned around. When she moved to pull her hair out of the way, she found her husband’s fingers already doing it for her, ghosting over her neck before returning to her back. She thanked him again as his fingers worked intently to unfasten her dress. With each released button, more of her skin was exposed to the assassin’s, allowing his fingers to brush against her bare back, igniting a spark that both felt. But both ignored it as John progressed down until he undid the final button at her lower back.

He stepped back as she turned to face him, clutching the dress to her body. “Thank you,” she said, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t about to drop the dress while he was still there. He just nodded before turning, returning to the bathroom, allowing her to get a peek of the tattoos decorating his back. But before she could make out anything distinct, the bathroom door was closed again. Instead of dwelling on it, she just quickly changed into the shirt he provided. It smelled like cigarettes and cedar—surprisingly comforting. She took a look at the sweatpants he had offered but decided they were too big and wouldn’t be comfortable since she’d be so preoccupied with keeping them on. So instead she just opted to wear one of the many pairs of panties she was given, letting the t-shirt just fall to her mid-thighs.

By the time John came out of the bathroom, showered wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, he found his wife sat on the edge of the bed watching the news. His eyes fell to her exposed legs, the shirt he had leant her riding dangerously high due to her sitting position. He tried his best to ignore it, sitting at the head of the bed but not getting in just yet. Upon feeling the bed dip, his wife turned, giving him a slight smile before getting up and heading into the bathroom. He once again averted his gaze as she walked, the shirt coming up higher with every step. Once she disappeared into the bathroom, John put a gun under his pillow. Just in case.

Soon enough she exited the bathroom, rounding the bed to her side before getting in. John followed suit, slipping under the covers and shutting off the tv. “Goodnight,” he bid before rolling to his side, facing away from her.

“Goodnight,” she bid her husband in return.

Masterlist

[meraki24601]

Series Masterlist

Fast List

Not Sick (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)

Blindfolded (Part 1, Part 2)

Dawn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Thief (Version 1, Version 2, Part 2 of Version 2)

Just a Fever (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

A New Pet (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Mountain Vacation (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

Muted (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Experiment (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Angels and Demons (Part 1, Part 2)

Keeping Secrets (Origin 1, Origin 2, Origin 3)

Changed (Part 1, Part 2)

The Traveler (Part 1, Part 2)

Cliff (Part 1, Part 2)

Descriptions and content

Content tags do not necessarily apply to all parts of a series. Check the individual posts for specific content tags.

Not Sick (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)

Content: sickfic, refusing medical care, collapse, touch aversion, fever, vomiting, implied self-harm, non-graphic torture, blood, past torture, restrained

Description: Whumpee is sick and, due to their past, is hesitant to ask for help. Despite their best efforts, Caretaker finds out. What will Whumper do if they find Whumpee so weak and helpless and Caretaker in the line of fire?

Blindfolded (Part 1, Part 2)

Content: kidnapped, non-graphic torture, sensory deprivation, rescue

Description: When blindfolded, Whumpee never knew what to expect when a person walked into their cell. All they could do was try to keep track of the time that had passed and hope that they would be rescued. Once their captors took action, it was easy for Whumpee to tell them apart, even without their sight, but this person's touch was familiar. So familiar, but could they really believe it was true?

Dawn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Content: Vampire Whumpee, trapped, left for dead

Description: Despite being a vampire with supernatural strength, Whumpee can't escape from a bear trap made of cold iron. Will their only hope save them, or will they be left there to die in the morning sun?

Thief (Version 1, Version 2, Part 2 of Version 2)

Content: homeless, stealing, hiding injuries, framed, protective villain

Villain catches Hero stealing from their store. What happened to their rival? Is this the end for Hero, or do they deserve to be saved?

Just a Fever (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Content: sickfic, unconscious, fever, scared, refusing medical care

Description: Who is the best person to take care of Hero while they're sick? Why, Villain, of course.

A New Pet (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Content: pet whump, past torture, wait I know them trope

Description: Adulting is hard, but it's even harder when you find out the first boss you like working for is insane. It's up to Caretaker to get Whumper's new "pet" out safely.

Mountain Vacation (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

Content: Rescue, Blood, bruises, past whipping, past torture, mentioned nudity (not sexual), implied sexual assault, restraints, falling

Description: Saving a kidnapping victim was not part of the vacation plan. With the pass closed and even helicopters unable to bring help for nearly a month, how will Evan and the guys care for the terrified, injured girl?

Muted (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Content: captured, unconscious, injured, torture, mute, escape

Description: Villain never said a word. Not through their battles against Hero or while Superhero tortured them after they were captured. Hero was able to get them away from Superhero, and it wasn't long after that their big secret came out, too. Villain was mute. And Hero? Hero was going to save them.

Experiment (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

Content: scientist Whumpee, lab experiments, starving, withdrawal symptoms

Description: The only way Whumpee will ever be free is if they can somehow complete the impossible drug Whumper kidnapped them to make. One by one, every experiment failed. All but one accidental test. That was all it took.

Angels and Demons (Part 1, Part 2)

Content: humans that look like angels and demons, rescue, experimentation, segregation based on fear, revenge

Description: Emery may look like what most people think of when they picture the demons from the Bible, but they're still a person. A person who protects their family when they're threatened. A person who saves another innocent who is experimented on because they're different, even if they're the enemy.

Keeping Secrets (Origin 1, Origin 2, Origin 3)

Content: Guns, Shootings, shot, threatened, hostage, injured, revenge, passing out, broken leg

Description: After getting caught up in a shooting, college student Sarah keeps running into people she doesn't want to meet.

Changed (Part 1, Part 2)

Content: past torture, personality change, hurt/no comfort, written like a letter

Description: Whumpee has been rescued, but have they been saved? Caretaker notices some things about Whumpee have changed since they returned and asks their Mentor for advice.

Content: sicfic, lifestyle differences,

The Traveler (Part 1, Part 2)

Description: Traveler is well known for their tales and items from far lands. Innkeeper is grateful for the business they bring to their inn. How far will that gratefulness get Traveler when they wind up back in town very ill?

Cliff (Part 1, Part 2)

Content: drowning, falling, knocked out, passing out, rescue, secondary drowning

Description: Villain threatens to kill Civilian by dropping them off a cliff. Can Hero save them, or will they die trying?

[bookworm-center]

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender: Chapter V- Creeps At The Club

Author's Note: This is the last one of my published chapters, so I won't update right after each other, I just wanted to get them all here. This is also the last chapter before the SoC storyline (even though this technically takes place during chapter two) so buckle up!

Previous part below:

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender

Y/n L/n: Creeps At The Club

Kaz has closed himself off from me, more than usual at least. He barely talks to me, and when he does it's always about a job or information I should know. I don't know what happened with Rollins', but it was evidently something major enough for him to build up the walls I had worked to climb over.

I know that Kaz is going to meet with Geels and expose Big Bolliger as a traitor. I'd never liked the guy, he was always a bit too lazy, a bit too dumb, and far too risky, but I still felt only a little sorry that he would be caught on the receiving end of Kaz Brekker's fury. At least Kaz trusted me with this information, even though I was left behind yet again.

I am stuck at the Crow Club, watching the dealers and pigeons. I almost had easy work, chatting with the bartenders as the sun steals away the last moments of day. A woman rushes over to me. She can't be much older than me, maybe early twenties at most. Her dress is plain and pressed and it takes a second for me to recognize her as one of Kaz's Dregs. One of her hands clench my wrist, a muttered "miss" under her breath. Her shaky fingers close over her thumb as our eyes meet in a moment of realization.

"Who?" My voice barely surpasses a whisper. She points at a group of five men, all dressed in mercher black, in the corner of the Club. I walk over, making a good show of loudly talking to the dealers and all the Dregs scattered amongst the tables. It's a form of warning, as I make eye contact with them every few seconds, yet they still don't leave. I plant myself right in front of them. I'm shorter by at least a head's height, but by the look in their eyes, they're scared of me, and rightfully so. "Leave our customers alone or leave the Club. This is your only warning."

"I would never take orders from a girl like you." says a man standing in the back of the group. The way he says girl is nearly a snarl.

"I said you would only have one warning, but you're evidently daft in the head, so I'll say it once more: leave. Now." I'm glaring at the group of them, and four of them are smart enough to slink out back into the streets, but the other one who spoke back to me still stands firm.

He leans down, like it's supposed to make me feel lesser. "No."

The whole Club seems to go silent. It's funny how everyone, even the pigeons, know I should be feared, except for this foolish ass. I punch him across the face and grab his arm before he reacts. His shoulder pops out of its socket as the man howls, falling to the ground. My foot lands on his chest. "If you don't fear me, you at least should fear my boss. You've likely heard of him. Kaz Brekker?" I speak conversationally, all though the man can't answer. "If you show you're face here again, or anywhere in the Dregs territory, you will have both Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender hunting you down. We will pick you limb from limb before tossing you into Fifth Harbor and leaving you to drown. You don't want that, do you?" The man shakes his head rapidly and that's when I finally lift my foot up. "Then leave now."

The man runs out and that's when I am faced with the gazes of all the people in the Club, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. "Drinks on the boss!" I raise the cup that I still had in my hand, cheering ringing through the Club.

That's when Jesper and Inej walk through the door, followed by Anika and Rotty. Kaz's isn't there and I want to ask but if he wants to ignore me, I'll let him. There's no point seeking out someone who is avoiding me. Jesper sees me through the crowd first, raising his hand in a wave, before sweeping me into a hug. "Hey Y/n/n."

"Hi Jes." I grin, following Inej's gaze as she looks around the Club.

"Have you seen Kaz?" She asked. I shake my head, brows creasing.

"He wasn't with you?"

"He wanted to walk alone." I nod, wondering where he is, but at this point I am too tired of Kaz cutting me out of the inner circle to care. I drag myself to the Slat, to sleep, to a night of nightmares that await me.

[alexanderossis]

for the prompt thing: 25+26 for gewis

(I miss your aus so so much, I’ve been rereading your gewis aus on ao3 this past few days cuz I love them

25. “You’re alright, love. You’re okay.” + 26. “Just breathe. Like that. That’s it.”

Skydiving babyyyyyy

George may have girl bossed too close to the sun.

He just wanted to spend more time with his boyfriend, doing things his boyfriend likes. They'd tried surfing, which George wasn't too shabby at, but Lewis had certainly shown him up.

And there are plenty of other very pretty boys who will take Lewis up on his skydiving idea, so George just needs to step up and prove that he can do it.

But he can't do it.

Now, he's sitting against the wall of a plane, extremely high up in the air, remembering that he resolutely does not like heights, and specifically, falling from them.

Lewis is next to him, taking up space like he does when he's relaxed, talking animatedly with the pilot and George thinks he's doing a good job of hiding it.

He's not.

"George," Lewis turns his attention to the younger man next to him, "You're shaking."

George opens his mouth to respond, but there's no air, and he can't breathe and is this what it feels like to die?

He feels more than sees Lewis move next to him.

"Just breathe," Lewis murmurs, his hand grasping George's and resting them over Lewis' own chest. He wills George to feel the breath and match it.

But George can't focus, the sounds of the plane too loud, he feels each and every waver the plane takes.

"You're alright, love. You're okay." Lewis repeats, almost like a mantra, and George's brain starts to pick that out of the fog, latching onto the familiar voice.

He can feel the heat of Lewis' hand on his, the rise and fall of Lewis' chest where they are touching.

"Like that. That's it. You're so good, you're so good, sweetheart." The praise washes over George and he feels something loosen in his chest.

This is Lewis that he's with.

Lewis, who's only ever shown him unconditional love. Lewis who has only ever kept him safe, only ever had their best interests at heart.

He can feel the anxiety settling as Lewis rubs his thumb across the inside of George's wrists.

"You okay?" Lewis asks, "We don't have to do this."

"No no," George bites his lip, "I trust you."

Lewis beams at him, and that alone is enough to banish any remaining fear he has as they line up at the door.

When they land on the ground in one piece, Lewis wraps George up in the biggest hug, jumping up and down, the parachute billowing out behind him. And sure, maybe it wasn't the most enjoyable thing George has ever done, but he'd do it a thousand times over to see that smile again.

I just love making George suffer lol. Enjoy anon! Hope this is what you wanted :)

[moamidzyism]

I NEED A PART 2 OF SITUATIONSHIP KAIIII it was so cute 😭😭💗💗💗

i just started writing a part two but i fear it doesn’t hold up to part one 😭😭😭 it’s so much more plot heavy which means angsty and i’m trying to make it light and cute again but i fear i (anti) girl bossed a little too close to the sun

[sayurifellfrost]

Prompt #17: Foiled (Extra Credit)

Character: S’vexrha Tchuma

Age: 10

Hasty footfalls thundered through the desert shrubs, a violent ache shot through S’vexrha - clinging to her lungs and wrecking the muscles of her legs as she ran. Fearful tears blurred her sight, ears permanently pinned back atop her skull - flickering as she could hear footsteps shortly behind her, following her.

She hardly had the stamina to outrun them, but if she could only get close enough to civilization.. She’d be safe. Azrathar told her so, so it must be true.

Not.. that she knew where the closest one was.

Despite having spent the last six cycles within these lands - she had barely seen it, locked away as she had been within the walls of the Compound.

.. H-hurts..

“Keep going.” Azrathar’s voice emit, gentle despite its perpetual monotone. “You should not be too far from a settlement.”

..C-c..an’t..

“You can. Press through the pain.”

S’vexrha’s eyes shut tightly for a moment, flames flickering around her frame and scorching the ground she stepped on. Her legs felt like they were going to give in at any moment, but she did her utmost to keep up the pace, even if she was beginning to feel faint. 

She could hear a scoff of annoyance emit, as the footfalls behind her came to a halt.

“Screw this..”

“-- What are you–?”

A loud bang echoed through the air, shortly followed by a sudden pressure to S’vexrha’s leg that sent her tumbling with a tortured scream leaving her lips before she fully registered the nigh burning pain which spread through her leg. The sickly sweet scent of blood the girl had grown all too familiar with spread through the air as she felt a certain wetness cling to her leg.

“.. Ah, shite..”

S’vexrha sobbed out from the agony, pressing her hands against the ground as she began to push herself up, moving her leg despite the pain and immediately collapsing anew each time she tried to put her weight on it.

“Stop.” Azrathar’s voice was commanding, this time. “You have been shot, Vexrha. There will be no escape this sun.”

.. N-no! I– I h-have to–!

“You will only cause yourself further harm.”

The girl’s head shook rapidly in denial as she instead began to crawl forwards, sobbing quietly beneath her breath as she heard the footsteps of her pursuers get closer. Soon enough, Gala’ra came into view - placing himself in front of her and lowering himself into a crouch, an almost disappointed look on his features.

“.. Vexrha.” He sighed. “.. The Boss will be furious, you realise that, yeah?”

“..G-go away!”

Burwenna rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip, the Midlander having absolutely no patience to deal with S’vexrha’s defiance.

“Shock her and be done with it.” She scowled.

“.. She’s an initiate now, Burwenna. She just.. needs to get used to it.”

“Needs to get bloody locked up again if you ask me.”

“.. I didn’t.”

Gala’ra sent Burwenna a sharp stare, the woman responding with a sulking glare of her own. S’vexrha slowly dug her nails into the ground and began to pull herself aside, to which the Keeper exhaled a soft sigh and reached over to grasp her by the waist - heaving her up over his shoulder with startled hisses and snarls.

“C’mon, time to go home.”

“No! L-let go!”

The Seeker girl squirmed violently, thrashing and pushing against the Keeper as he stood up in an attempt to flee his shoulder - failing miserably due to her much leaner frame, size and age, and the fact she was unable to cause any harm to them. She cried and screamed, desperate to be released while Gala’ra made no true attempt to silence her.

He knew she’d either pass out from exhaustion or bloodloss before long.

[galeleads]

@deathleads has requested. ╳

SEND FOR MY MUSE TO DIE IN YOUR MUSES' ARMS (ALTERNATE VERSE EDITION!!)

When she was a little girl, Aurora dreamt of flower fields. Untamed and overgrown with endless amounts of color. Every night, she’d roam those grassy knolls, dirtying her dress as she rolled in the dirt, building flower crowns for her to wear, and bossing her sister around. ‘One day, I will be a Queen!’ she would declare. But as she grew older, the field became more tamed. Laid at her feet were cobblestone paths, organized flower beds, and soon enough, a fountain. Instead of being Queen, she wanted nothing more than to be recognized.

A garden built in her name for her to roam long into her golden years of this earth. 

Is it truly bad that she can see the fountain again?

Qistina has been pressing her wound, unable to stop the flow of blood. One who prized the cycle of life and death like a precious stone was gently reassuring her that she would be okay, and that all would be well. Aurora knew much better than that. Behind Qistina and Atlas, she can see her beautiful garden. No, this was Windborne’s grand finale. How fitting.

The Major can’t bear to look down at the fatal wound, opting for a more pleasant crimson within her Mistress’ eyes. She can see the fear and hurt; could she blame The Belladonna? It’s becoming much too difficult to concentrate on anything. Qistina and Atlas’ words are starting to blur together in a fit of panic.

Her breathing is slowing. It is hard to move, but she manages to place her hand on top of Qistina’s. “Stop… Qistina please- Atlas, make her stop.” 

Her grip tightens, attempting to slip underneath the other woman’s palm. She can feel the force on her wound lifting. Though Atlas remains close, her field of vision can only focus on the one person right in front of her. She must’ve been poisoned by this deadly nightshade, for it’s only in Qistina’s arms that she feels safe enough to say, “Qissy, I need you to hold me. I’m scared.”

Tears have begun to stream down her cheeks. Her body rattles and shakes without care. Still, she continues to stare into Qistina’s eyes, mustering her strength, “Sergeant Serrano of South HQ has my last will and testaments. Make sure they’re given to my family.” She pauses. There’s blood in the back of her mouth. She tries in vain to swallow, only for a cough to lay the damage out in full view, “My research… take it. It is yours now. It’s not your field, I know- but you built me. Is it not right for this to be our parting gift?”

One last movement of a hand-painted by her own blood. It brushes a stray piece of hair from Qistina’s face, staining beautiful snow white, as she gently guides her Mistress to come closer. Then as gently as a summer breeze, she pleads in her ear, “Don’t let… don’t let him know… not until it’s all over. He doesn't need to be distracted…”

It’s a promise that perhaps is far too much to ask for, but who could deny the wishes of a dying woman? (It's all well-intentioned. Perhaps Roy will forgive her someday.) From what she can see, there’s a nod in response. Thus, Aurora begins to allow her body to rest. “Thank you.”

Is the sun shining? She’s sure it is, even if she can’t see it. Her body is incredibly warm. As her muscles all begin to relax, and she is left with nothing but a feeling of contentedness, she asks with her last breath, “Poppies… would look lovely in the garden of the manor… don’t you think Qistina?”

[parksprout]

Sprout Journal 11/14/24

Good morning y'all! Just like the last couple this one's not actually being written on the day that the entry is marked for.

I'm not doing very well!!! It's strange. the waves that this newfound depression is coming in. Like the initial shock of the breakup was obviously awful, but I somehow managed to keep myself going; I started going to the gym the next day, started eating right again, got a lot of reading done, reached out to a bunch of old friends and redefined most of my online presence. Then, I reached back out to the Bnuuy to just... try and fix us, whatever us ends up being - friends or otherwise. That was good for a couple of days too, but then the election happened and a whole new type of depression kicked in. But I sorta recovered from that too: kept working out, saw a doctor, made appointments, looked for apartments and all that. But I'm in this weird, slow decline now that I can't really qualify!!!

I think it has something to do with the weather and seasons change more than it has to do with either the relationship woes or the election, honestly. I've had mild seasonal depression in years past, but for some reason in 2024 it feels as though the sun is setting faster. The steel blanket of clouds above is usually something I long for after a long summer, a protection from the sun that blinds and hinders me, but this year instead of the normal comforting blanket that might bring the gentle fall of snow its more akin to a dull metallic coffin lid suffocating me in sleep after a restless summer. Autumn is usually my favorite time of the year, but this year the yellowing leaves brought no sunshine into my world, and the orange of jack o' lanterns sat rotting reminds me of the impermanence of everything.

Maybe next year I'll feel better! I'm hoping that my love for Autumn can return, it's such a beautiful time of the year, but this just isn't the right autumn. I've never had an October with heartbreak, and I've never had a November with such fear. I really shouldn't blame myself too much for how I'm feeling these days, it's been a very rough month and I wasn't exactly in an ideal spot mentally even before the election or breakup. I'm just now coming to terms with the fact that I've just got to live this life, though, regardless of how dissatisfied I am with our politics, climate, and my own love life.

I'm gonna write about what I actually did yesterday, and then after the picture of a mossy forest I'm gonna vent a little bit - I need to vent, I was feeling really bad yesterday.

So work was super duper boring and awful alkjsdhflaksdf it was rainy alllllll day which I normally enjoy but... ugh. I could use sunshine right now!! There was almost no one in the zoo because of the weather, which I would normally celebrate because it'd mean an easy day but I realllyyyy wanted to do some work lakjsdfhalskdf. It was just an incredibly boring day with almost nothing of note. This one girl I work with keeps trying to flirt with me which is super uncomfortable ToT she asked for my number last week which I obviously rejected, but today while I was at the area she works at she kept like standing uncomfortably close to me which genuinely made me feel like I was gonna panic ugh. I talked with my boss about it and he said he's gonna try to help me so there's that at least ToT but like pleaseeee I told you I am taken (kinda? I just don't want anyone but one person) JUST LEAVE ME ALOONEEEEE. After work I had a rough start to my evening alkjsdhflkadsf I got all mopey and sad, so I cuddled my cats for a while but when that didn't really help much I decided to go on a walk. I was originally going to walk for a few miles but... I passed by a tattoo parlor and decided fuck it, I'll get an impulse piercing alksjdfhalksdf so I got my bottom labret pierced!! I think I actually look super cute with this, but I can't wear the jewelry I want yet. You have to wait about 8-10 weeks before you can change the jewelry out to a ring, so for now I have a stud which is fiiineeeee but again not what I want in the long run. After I got home from that I got dinner and started on Spanish homework while waiting for my best friend to be free to call - I told him that I was feeling really bad and he promised he'd be there soon. So he called me after a while and I did spanish homework while he told me about his DnD session! It was so nice, I don't know where I'd be without him right now. To be honest everything else was kinda a blur after we hung up, I went to bed not long later.

I don't actually have many updates about my love life for once akljsdfhakshdf only that yesterday I was really struggling with missing them. I really miss calling them pet names specifically. I miss saying "hey babe, I love you" and getting to read that back. Not that they ever called me babe, they were never much on calling me pet names. I do love them, and... I tell them that I love them, but for this moment at least they can't say it back in the way I would want to hear. Which is painful, but... y'know, I want them to be happy so if I can't be the one who does make them happy like that, what can I even do about it? I don't have updates like... nothing new happened yesterday between us, but I do have a lot of feelings about it because regardless of if we talked much I still felt plenty.

I keep swinging back and forth on this pendulum of love. The pendulum swings in a half lit plain, on one side there is a brighter world where I am hopeful and believe that we can repair things, where I am okay taking things slowly and trying out this friendship thing for now knowing that I still want to ask them out someday and believe we can work. That's where I was in the days we started talking again, where I was when we comforted each other through the election, where I lived only a few days ago when they sent me an unprompted fit check. It's like ... every little taste of our relationship coming back in the current situation pulls me into the light. When I am in the light I am casual, relaxed, normal and friendly. I am the person who best suits this situation; working on myself, talking to friends besides Aaron, aware of my faults but not crippled by them. It's weirdly where I feel the least need for their attention, too. It's where I can be normal about this, I can be relaxed as we try out this new thing called friendship, while I wait for the next big steps in our relationship. Our big conversations have always happened as I leave the darkness and enter the light again, those conversations come from those feelings finally bursting free of my prison mind where they have rusted bars and scratched at walls for too long. When I am in the light I can remember that it's only been a couple of weeks, that I can't be fully expected to heal after three years when it's been less than a month. I remember that.. we fell in love once, and that we might fall in love again if I just wait a second and be myself.

But the awful part about pendulums is that they swing. What causes the swing backwards into a darker reality can be so many things. It's when I see something that reminds me of them and I excitedly type out "baby!" or "babe" or "hi my love" or something like that without realizing it. I've sent so many messages with any combination of those three in it and had to delete them only seconds later. I feel worse when I open my phone and instead of seeing them smiling there, I see my favorite bird - a red winged blackbird I replaced my partner with because I thought it'd bare me comfort. Instead, when I see it's sunset adorned wings I feel spite; why do I have to be greeted by dark feathers instead of their deep eyes? I feel at my worst when I can't call them at night, when I don't have a reason to stay up at night waiting for them, when I'm all alone in my bedroom tired and hopeless. I feel at my worst when... I realize how easy it will probably be for them to move on eventually. When I remember that they broke up with me, and that it was no small decision to get to that point. I feel at my worst when I remember that... as much as there's still a chance for us to be lovers again, there's as much of one that we don't. I'm at my worst when I look around my room, and I see them in everything. When I remember that the portrait I have that they painted on me is only ever going to be a copy... that I might not hold the original copy and read the words written on the back. When I look at my plants and think about all the times I would message them updates about their newest branches or if I'd repotted them that day. I remember us when I open my laptop and see Stardew valley, we still have a save there where they would always make me jealous by giving Elliot gifts when I wanted us to marry in that save. I'm at my darkest when all of the little roots that they've left in my routine start to itch again, but I have nothing that I can do about it. I'm at my lowest point when I'm alone, and I'm alone so often right now. It's funny, in my darkest moment yesterday? I found myself holding back from a couple things that... don't really make sense.

Its so funny but... what set me off yesterday was something so silly ToT I was thinking about doing some writing, so I went over to my pinterest to look at some of the inspo I had saved for my OC's and setting. But... ugh. I used to like to look at their tags. Specifically, they had a board that I think said "Places to go with the partner" or something like that. But then I remembered that after the breakup, I blocked them there ToT and... I don't even know what their username was on there anymore. Plus... they've probably deleted that board, now. It was full of moss and ponds, cherry blossom flowers, lichenous trees and gently fogged mountains. I felt so sad because it was just another spot that our relationship used to exist in, but it's gone forever. Ugh. There's also something else that's silly that.. makes me a little happy when I see it? But on one of their usernames they changed it to our moons and a little love letter emoji a long time ago. It's still our moon phases today, and they both still fit together so well. Such a little twist of fate, but one of so many that makes me want to believe in fate. Our moons fit together perfectly, we somehow have the same house number on streets thousands of miles away, we were both watching Game Grumps while we were apart, we both used each other's tags after the breakup, we used to complete one another's thoughts. I think about little things like that through a large part of my day on the days that I'm struggling more. I think about all the little things that.. that were so good between us, all the little things I miss.

I just miss them a lot, they are my light and... I feel so cold in this dark.

[starjxsung]

oh no!! remember to bring sunscreen to lolla bc that’s going to be criminal. i’m lit taking my sunscreen everywhere along with a bucket hat (that won’t match any of my outfits) bc im so pasty and pale that i burn sooooo bad and that’s the worst thing 😭😭😭

breaking in boots at a concert is crazy and not for the weak. you’re the ultimate girl boss i aspire to be.

let me know about your other pulls!!! i’m manifesting at least one lee know and hanji or i’ll die (i pull them a fair amount but not always😪).

im glad your sis is going with you! and hell yeah, let’s get together for skz if u want. bc i desire to be as close to barricade as possible without ✨dying✨so i heard that sticking to the sides is better than the middle. but also, i need one of them to fall in love with me, my future is really depending on this.

this week’s going to b stressful af bc lolla but also my brother in law’s gf is having contractions and they said that the baby will be born any day now (he was due in like two weeks). so im really happy but nervous af.

sending you the biggest hug b4 lolla!! i love u so muchhh🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

(i’ve been lurking on your kinktober requests and im so ready for it)

(this is me btw)

-🐈‍⬛

It’s insane bc I am an AVID sunscreen wearer like my family gets annoyed of how much I remind them to wear sunscreen. and then ofc I don’t wear it when I need to 😭😭 but YES I will absolutely bring hordes of it to lolla 🙏 I don’t actually burn too badly bc I’m naturally pretty olive-toned so I usually just get a tan but I HATEEEE having tan lines and I have such a bad fear of heavy sun exposure in general so it feels so shitty when I do get sunburnt 💔

I will never be breaking in boots at another concert. 0/10 do not recommend

I’ve purchased several albums since my first ones and still no kitty lix but I did pull the Jilix unit from the B&N exclusive and the Hanji I wanted !!! I’m about to be bringing that Hanji one everywhere with me frfr

ALSO LITERALLY…… if I’m not signing an NDA for Hanji by the end of lolla I def did something wrong. I actually think I’m going to pass out seeing him again

ALSO OH MY GODDD that’s so exciting !!!! Keep me posted when she goes into labor! Wishing for a safe and healthy delivery that is soooo cute 🥹 do they know if it’s a boy or girl yet?

I love you so so much baby I can’t believe how close we are to Lolla!!!!!! 💕💖💓💓🫶

Also I DID cave and purchase 2 hanji pobs on ebay today I couldn’t help it 💔 he put crack in those pobs this era fr like why is every single one of his to DIE FOR…….. kms I need all of them NOWWWW but these are the 2 I have otw !!! 🙂‍↕️🫶