#loud distant screaming and pulling out my hair

[lostvoidling]

chews on hands in tired of every female character being made into "no you cant be evil" territory only to be immediately turned into a mother figure or thrown under the bus for some other character

[nottsangel]

could we pleaseeee get more of the new girl au!

inspired by the new girl scene where they give cece the small towel :p

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

from the bathroom, you can hear the faint, distant chatter of the boys in the living room, drowned out by the sound of the water splashing onto the cold shower tiles. you let out a deep sigh, running your fingers over your scalp to rinse away all the excess shampoo while giving yourself a quick, soothing massage.

you feel deeply relaxed, tension gradually melting away, but that peace quickly evaporates when you turn off the shower and stick your hand outside the shower curtain to grab your towel— only to realise you forgot to bring one.

“FUCK!” you scream out in frustration, instantly pulled out of your relaxed state as water drips from your bare skin and drenched hair, pooling around your feet. the chatter from the living room instantly stops, followed by a loud, confused “WHAT?” from enzo.

“I— UH, FORGOT MY TOWEL!” you yell back, urgently hoping they will grab one for you right away.

you then hear the sounds of shuffling feet, giggles and hushed murmurs, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you lean against the wall, arms crossed and your bare foot impatiently tapping on the wet floor. the door then abruptly swings open, the wood slamming against the wall, making you flinch as you see three blurred silhouettes through the shower curtain.

“thank god. took you guys long enough.” you grumble, reaching your arm past the curtain and snatching the towel from whoever is holding it.

“you’re a very lucky girl to have such sweet roommates, vero?” theo teases, making you roll your eyes as you wrap the rough towel around your dripping body, but your eyes instantly widen when you glance down.

“what the fuck is this?!” you yell, aggressively jerking the curtain open, nearly ripping it from the rod. your narrowed eyes are glaring at the three boys standing in front of you, your hands gesturing at the tiny towel wrapped around your wet body.

“oh… fuck.” mattheo murmurs under his breath, his eyes hungrily glued to your exposed body, just like the other two boys. their mouths hang half-open, not even bothering to hide the fact that they’re staring, with smug, lopsided smirks plastered on their stupid faces. your tits are nearly spilling out of the thin fabric with your ass barely covered, your arms desperately holding the towel up.

“you idiots! this is a hand towel!” you grunt in frustration, the tiny towel barely covering your body, leaving very little to the imagination. all three boys can feel their pants uncomfortably tighten, their eyes darkening at the sight of you while licking their lips.

“yeaaahh… sorry about that. this is the best we could find, i promise!” mattheo shrugs, a cocky, mischievous grin spreading across his face, but his eyes still not leaving your drenched body as you step out of the shower and shoot him a disapproving look.

“well, i think it fits perfectly, if you ask me. tsk, always so ungrateful...” enzo adds, giving you a teasing wink. you stride towards him, your brows furrowed in irritation, his self-satisfied expression only infuriating you further.

“sorry, what was that?” you retort, your head slightly tilted and a mocking expression of faux confusion on your face, daring enzo to repeat himself.

“i said, i think it fits—” but before he can finish his sentence, you’re wringing your hair out all over him, causing him to flinch as you make a wet, dripping mess all over his clothes.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” enzo yells, his smug expression rapidly shifting into one of disbelief as he stumbles back while staring down at his soaked clothes. theo and mattheo quickly run off, knowing they’re next, their loud, giddy giggles echoing through the hallway.

you immediately sprint after them, your one hand tightly clutching the small towel to prevent it from sliding off, while your other hand holds your wet, dripping hair up, determined to not let them get away with this.

“NEXT TIME IT’LL BE A KNIFE I’M CHASING YOU WITH, YOU HEAR ME?!”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[littleprinces]

Milady Asa

Babymonster Asa x Male Reader

(Stepcest, Creampie, Breeding)

It was a hot summer day when I first met Asa, my stepsister. Her father and my mother got married last month. She was a petite Japanese girl with long black hair, piercing brown eyes, and a body that could make any man's cock twitch. We were both 18 years old, but she was a year younger than me, and I couldn't help but feel protective of her.

We met at our parents' wedding, and I could tell she was uncomfortable with the whole situation. I tried to talk to her, but she seemed distant, so I decided to give her some space. However, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in her yukata.

Over the next few weeks, I made an effort to get to know Asa better. We started hanging out, watching movies, and talking about our lives. I could tell she was still uncomfortable with the situation, but I could also see a spark in her eyes when she talked about her dreams and aspirations.

One day, I was studying in my room when I heard a knock on the door. It was Asa, looking nervous and unsure of herself. She told me she wanted to talk to me about something important. I invited her in and closed the door behind her.

Asa started by telling me how much she appreciated me being there for her and how much she valued our friendship. She then confessed that she had feelings for me, and before I could say anything, she leaned in and kissed me.

I was taken aback at first, but I quickly realized that I felt the same way about her. We started kissing passionately, and before I knew it, our clothes were off, and we were on the bed, touching and caressing each other's bodies.

Asa was a virgin, so I took my time, exploring every inch of her body. I started by kissing her lips, then her neck, and then her breasts. I took each nipple in my mouth and sucked gently, causing her to moan with pleasure.

I then moved down to her pussy, which was already wet with excitement. I licked and sucked on her clit, causing her to moan even louder. I could feel her getting closer to an orgasm, so I slipped a finger inside her and started fingering her while continuing to lick and suck on her clit.

Asa's body tensed up, and she let out a loud moan as she came, soaking my hand with her juices. I then moved up and entered her, feeling her tight pussy grip my cock.

We started fucking slowly, with me on top. But Asa wanted more, so she turned around and got on all fours, inviting me to take her from behind. I grabbed her hips and started pounding her hard, causing her to moan and scream with pleasure.

"Oppa, fuck me!" Her moan so loud make our room full of desire

"Yes Asa you are mine, i will fuck you non stop" and i keep fucking her pussy so hard

I then pulled out and told her to get on her knees. I stroked my cock a few times before cumming all over her ass. I then slipped my cock back inside her and continued fucking her until I came again, filling her up with my cum.

We lay there, panting and exhausted, for a few minutes before getting dressed and going back to our lives. We never spoke about that day again, but I knew that it was a moment we would both cherish forever.

[citrus-writing]

How do you think the Phantom Troupe members will react to the reader almost passing out while having sex with them?

// Yandere phantom troupe members react to darling nearly passing out during sex with them // 

I kept the reason darling nearly passed out vague, since the yanderes wouldn't know the reason, and because one isn't specified. ( However, my assumptions when writing these were something related to fear or nervousness, weakness or pain, or a pre-existing medical condition or some sort- so these can be read with those scenarios in mind, but doesn’t have to be. ) 

Warnings: nsfw, dub-con / non-con, sorta somnophilia, some of these are fluffy and sweet but some are a little bit dark 

---------------- 

Yanderes that are worried about you, immediately stopping what they had been doing to comfort you and make sure you’re ok. 

Chrollo, uvogin, illumi

Chrollo- 

Chrollo is so romantic and caring towards you, he always takes great care and precision in caring for you- from undressing you to preparing you for him, he’s diligent and incredibly in tune with your needs and desires. 

He kisses down your body with fervor, mouth hot and tongue insistent at all your weak spots, hands following close behind, trailing down your body as well. You’re perfect- soft and beautiful and all his his his. He’s always enamored with the sounds you make, nearly overwhelmed with the pleasure he always gives you, he always loves the face you make, face all flushed and eyes hazy with pleasure. 

That’s why it catches him so off guard when he notices the way you seem less steady; even while laying down, it’s obvious you’re growing dizzy, disoriented, face becoming slightly paler. Your hands grip at the sheets, knuckles nearly white from the force. 

“My love, are you alright?” he asks, stopping whatever he’d been doing to give his full attention to your face and your words. He can't hide the worry in his voice, nor the worried expression he wears. How could he even think to hide such things when you’re so unsteady in his arms. 

“Do you need me to stop?” he soothes- he won't mind if you do need to stop, or slow down- after all, you’re the light of his life, everything he does is for you. Besides, he’d never turn down the opportunity to dote on you and take care of you. 

Uvogin- 

Uvogin is aware he can be overwhelming- from the overzealous roughness of his touch to the sheer size of him, he knows that sex with you can be overwhelming for you, and, if he’s not careful, even painful. That’s why he’s always so careful with you, doing his best to go slow and take good care of you- you, his darling. Because he adores you, and he needs you to enjoy the things he does to you. He needs to see your mouth fall open in a moan so loud it’s nearly a scream, he needs to hear the way your scream out his name. 

When you start to become overwhelmed, body growing shaky and fingers and thighs trembling, he eases up immediately, slowly coming to a stop. Had he gotten too caught up in the moment? Had he gotten a little rough with you? He’s gotten used to watching for signs of discomfort in you, always a little too aware of the way you struggle to take him, so he notices immediately when you start to feel out of it. 

“Hey, you alright?” he asks you. “Was that too much?” he knows he caught your discomfort before it could get bad, with you already looking like you're doing a little better. You’ve stopped trembling so much, face growing a little less flushed, eyes returning from the edge of teariness. He runs a comforting hand through your hair, down your back, pulling you close to him. “I’ve got you, you’re alright.” 

Illumi- 

Of course illumi notices when you start to act distant, nothing ever gets past those wide eyes, especially not when they’re so focused on you- on your face and your body and those sounds you make that make him so hot he can hardly stand it. The first thing he notices is your sounds, growing less so pleasured and more so desperate in a way that almost sounds like pain, and is definitely discomfort. 

“Darling?” he asks, not yet letting up on the motion of his movements, “is it too much?” it’s hard for him to tell how you’re feeling at any given moment- after all, he’s mastered being able to push through any discomfort, but you haven't, you’re so sweet and gentle compared to him, and he needs to remind himself of that often to avoid pushing you too far. 

You nod weakly, a little embarrassed, and a little nervous to disappoint him. He stops his movements instantly, as if you had stopped him yourself. His eyes watch you as you take a moment you steady yourself, obviously trying to gather the strength and composure to explain yourself. And he’d let you explain, but not right now. 

“Don't speak, let me get you something to drink, and help you get cleaned up.” he knows by now you wont fight him on this, when he made up his mind about something it was made. He hates the thought of you in pain, especially from him. Whatever he did to overwhelm you, he’ll make it right. 

-----

Yanderes that don’t stop, either too caught up in the moment or simply uncaring if you do pass out- after all, they’ll take care of you. 

Feitan, phinks, nobunaga, shalnark 

Feitan- 

You feel too good- wrapped around him like a vice, squeezing so tight. It makes him almost dizzy himself, so when he watches your eyes grow hazy and your body starts to tremble, he thinks very little of it. Maybe even thinks it’s good, afterall, he loves knowing he has an effect on you. 

It takes him a minute to realize how unsteady you are, not dizzy with pleasure necessarily but more so dizzy as you grapple with the edge of consciousness. “Too much?” he asks, voice tight, as he continues to push into you. He watches you nod, shaking hands reaching out to him to steady yourself. 

He lets you tangle your arms around his shoulders, lets you seek out the sensations you need to keep you grounded, but he doesn't stop. He slows down, so slow he’s nearly stopped, but feitan continues to roll his hips into you in a desperate attempt to not let this end. Even just this is more that enough- benign buried to the hilt inside you is perfect, how can he complain when you’re so fucked out that you can hardly stay coherent. 

“So good for me.” he whispers as he forces you to take it. The pace is slow but so so deep, and he watches your face with an intensity that doesn't help you calm down at all, but a part of you really wants to be good for him, so you fight not to struggle against him as you struggle equally hard to stay awake. 

Phinks- 

Phinks always struggles to hold back, especially with you- his beloved darling, but he’d been so sure that he’d been doing a good job at not going too rough, not fucking you as hard and fast as he wanted to- and god, he wants to. 

It catches him off guard when you look up at him with such hazy eyes, lip worried between your teeth, clearly overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Fuck, fuck. “Hey, you’re alright.” he soothes, shifting his weight to free a hand to push your hair away from your face. Looking closer, he can see the telltale signs of being near losing consciousness- the sweat, the paleness, the trembling. He hates that it isn't an immediate turn off- he hates that even with you so uncomfortable he desperately needs to fuck you through the orgasm that he’s sure is going to tear through him. Just a little more. 

“Stay with me, stay with me.” he encourages, looming over you and arranging you into a better position, one where you can relax completely against the sheets. It makes him feel guilty, knowing even now he wont stop, but the way the new position seems to help you eases that guilt a little bit, enough for him to breathe a sigh of relief and continue to rut into you. “fuck, just a little more.” he soothes, watching as you nod nearly incomprehensibly. 

Your perfect, he’s sure he’s close- was even before you started to get hazy from it all, but the way you lay back and take it- so willing, even now- has him fucking into you with a reckless adandon. 

Nobunaga- 

It takes nobunaga a minute to realize how out of it you are- after all, aren't you meant to be hazy, shaky, absolutely desperate? Aren't you meant to be unable to form words, too far gone in the pleasure he gives you? His delusional mind thinks so, and he does love the sight of your flushed cheeks and your desperate gaze. 

“Can't take any more?” he asks you, watching the way your face changes as you struggle to comprehend his words. You shake your head, desperate to convey how lightheaded and uncertain you feel. “What’s that? Use your words.” he encourages, but quickly fucks himself into you harder, deeper, faster, and any words on your lips fail, all you can manage is a choked gasp as you feel any thought youd managed to scrape up disappear back into the void of your mind. 

You look so good he can't help but kiss you- his lips pressed seamlessly to yours, tongue invading your mouth. It can help your overwhelmed state, he’s sure, but it does serve to pull more of those cute little noises from you, swallowed up in the kiss. 

“Got nothing to say? That’s alright, I know what you need.” nobunaga knows your body well by now, he knows how to bring you closer and closer to the edge, he knows how to make you squirm and whimper, and he’s certain that he’ll be able to push you over the edge of consciousness as well. The very thought of being allowed to fuck your unconscious body has him fucking into you with renewed fervor. 

Shalnark- 

Shalnark notices fast the way your breath grows ragged, the way your eyes grow teary. It makes him smile, he’s too much for you, already got you on the edge of consciousness and he’s just getting started.“You’re so cute.” he’s not going to stop, not when you look like THIS, fucked out and desperate and teary eyed. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, charmed by the way you clumsily reciprocate, likely on instinct, because it’s obvious your mind is somewhere else- or, more likely, your mind isn't anywhere right now. 

Shalnark never has trouble taking more from you than you can handle, and this is no different, in fact, this is even more so the case because you can't seem to beg him to stop. “take it, take it.” he accentuates each word with a particularly deep thrust into you, forcing a desperate cry from your lips each time. You seem a little too far gone to really decide if you need to stop or not, so he’ll decide for you, he doesn't mind. “don't worry baby, you’re alright.” 

Even if it’s too much for a cute little thing like you to handle, shalnark knows he isnt hurting you, and that gives him all the certainty he needs to continue fucking into you like he so desperately wants. And if you lose consciousness, it will only further establish the power he had over you, allowing him to truly do anything he wants with you. It’s perfect, so please, feel free to let go. “you can let go if you want. I’ve got you.”

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine being pregnant with King's child and not knowing about it until you give birth

At a distant Beast Pirate base

You: [has been away from Onigashima for seven months]

Jack: are you sure you're okay?

You: [hunched over, grasping your sore back, and sweating profusely while trying to catch your breath] Yes, I'm fine, my sciatica is just acting up.

Jack: I think you should go to the infirmary.

You: [snaps] Dude, seriously? I said - [feels a deluge of fluid flood your pants] ... you know what, I think I need to go to the infirmary. In fact, you need to carry me.

Jack: bitch, you have legs, how about you walk?

You: [doubles over and shrieks in pain]

Jack: ugh [rolls his eyes and runs you to the infirmary]

Twenty-six hours later

You: [looking at your infant in shock]

Infant: [a beautiful chubby Lunarian baby girl with a tiny set of black wings]

Jack: congratulations on the baby! [walks in to see said baby] fuck... need to go call King.

You: ... kill the medical staff first, no one can know about her.

The staff: ( ' O__O)

You: Once you're done with that, can you please get us out here?

Jack: of course [turns to the staff and cracks his knuckles] Also don't tell me what to do. [gets to work]

You: [cradles your child closer so she can't see or hear what's happening, and laughs] Thank you for being so reliable, Jack.

Jack: I just... I wish you had told me sooner that you were pregnant.

You: I didn't know until today that I was pregnant.

Jack: How could you not know you were pregnant? That shit seems hard to miss.

You: We've been out at sea for months, I figure I was just the normal amount of nauseous, sore, fatigued, cranky, and hungry.

Jack: [breaks the neck of the last nurse] Ugh, now you get three weeks of seafaring with a newborn because I'm taking you to King.

You: Why would you think my baby would be safe with King?

Jack: [gives you a "bitch, really?" look]

You: ...

Jack: ...

You: Oh my god, he's a Lunarian too

Jack: How have you been fucking him enough to make a baby, and not know he's a Lunarian.

You: Do you really wanna know the answer to that?

Jack: You two are gross. I'm taking you to a safe house until we are ready to set sail.

At the safe house

King, via den den mushi: What do you mean you're pregnant?!

You: no, I said I was pregnant, not I am pregnant.

King: what the fuck does that mean?

Your daughter: [starts to fuss]

King: please tell me that is not a goddamn baby, I hear.

You: Yeah, sorry, I didn't know until she decided it was time to come out.

King: what color is her hair?

You: She's a newborn, she doesn't have hair yet.

King: [stumbling over his words] Does she look a little... Is she ... fuck... Is there anything off with the baby?

You: No, the doctors said she was healthy, especially her lungs. She came out screaming, it was so loud that she made the doctor's ears ring.

King: So she has your loud ass voice, great.

You: And she's got a cute little set of wings like her daddy.

King: oh, don't call me that... Are there any other features I should know about?

You: She's got your fat head, too.

Kaido: [cackling in the background on King's end]

King: Is that so? Jack, how long until they can set sail?

Jack: On such short notice, three days.

Three weeks later in Onigashima

King: Alright, let me see her.

You: [hands her over]

King: [lifts her up to get a good look at her] She has your nose.

Queen: [mutters] She really does have your fat head.

King: Get away from my child, I don't want you even looking at her]

Queen: I, honestly, never would have pegged you as the paternal type, but then again, I always thought I'd have kids before you.

You: You would have to have sex with someone to have a child, and last time I checked you couldn't pull any bitches. But also, seriously, stay the fuck away from my kid.

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[elllisaaa]

OBSESSION - K. SEUNGMIN

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - HANDCUFFS + EDGING

SUMMARY : when seungmin catches you flirting with another guy at a bar, he gets possessive even if he has no right to be. you deserve to be punished for making him feel like that.

-> pairing : fuck buddy!seungmin x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.7k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!seungmin x sub!reader, edging (obviously), hancuffing (obivously too), jealousy, swearing, teasing, a sprinkle of angst, choking, rough sex, hair pulling, manhandling, sex toy, orgasm denial, begging, use of 'brat', 'slut' & 'whore', dacraphylia, oral (f. receiving), fingering

+ the way i'm depicting seungmin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | kinktober 2024

Seungmin had only planned to spend a quiet night, alone with a movie and some snacks to relax after his stressful week at work. So being dragged by Felix and Changbin to a bar wasn’t really part of his resting schedule. What was even less part of this schedule was stumbling over you, leaning against the counter, and laughing out loud at the jokes some lame guy made. A guy that was obviously flirting with you. A guy you were obviously flirting back with. 

It shouldn’t bother him, it shouldn’t even be on his mind. After all, Seungmin was the one who made it clear to you when you started to fuck with each other that you were not exclusive, that he wasn’t ready for a real relationship yet, that you could fuck whoever else you wanted as well as he could. Though, he wasn’t prepared for the way he became completely and utterly addicted to you - to your body, your lips on him, the sounds you made when he was touching you right, your hands on him, your taste, your cunt, everything. 

So seeing that other guy that didn’t even know you hated margaritas trying to flirt with you made a kind of anger he wasn’t familiar with boil inside of him. He knew that he should get over it, that he should just let you live your life like he told you to, but something was screaming at him to stop it, to make it clear that you were his. However, a very drunk Felix interrupted his plans to crash on your little date. Just before he could leave, your eyes crossed and you waved at him with a smile that made his insides twist. He didn’t wave back, helping Changbin support Felix’s weight, and he missed the sadness that crossed your eyes for a few seconds. 

“- What's happening ? Your new fuck toy can't make you cum ?”

You rolled your eyes at Seungmin as you pushed past him to walk in his apartment. It had been a week since the bar incident, and unlike every other week, he hadn't tried to reach out even once. And you knew Seungmin could be distant and forget about answering your texts sometimes, but never this long. So you just decided to show up at his place, pretty annoyed at him at this point. 

“- Is it what this is all about ? You're jealous ?”

Your snarky tone made his jaw clench, your words hitting too close from reality for him not to feel all the rage he had endured that day come back full force, the memories of that guy leaning in and touching your waist still fresh and clear in his mind. The images had been playing again and again in his head, the thought wouldn't leave him alone. Seungmin scoffed, offended, as he watched you get comfortable on his couch. 

“- I'm not jealous. You can do whatever the fuck you want. 

- Then why did you ignore me all week ?”

Seungmin pretended to be busy as he locked the door, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat when he thought about you being held and fucked by someone else, by someone that wasn't him. 

“- I was busy. That's all. 

- Yeah, of course ! You really think I'm gonna buy this ?”

This time, it was anger that rushed through his veins as he made a beeline to you, taking a hold of your jaw, his grip so strong you winced as you looked up at him. His eyes were burning up with a fire that was foreign even for you. 

“- Don't test me sweetheart, you know you won't be the one to win. Don't start something you can't finish.”

His tone was harsh, his words and hands rough as he wrapped one of them around your neck to bring you inches apart from his lips, but not letting you get a taste of them. You sighed against his mouth, your resolve crumbling more and more the longer he looked at you like he was going to ruin you. 

“- What are you gonna do, uh ? Punish me ?”

Your condescending tone finished to anger him as he grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging on them to guide you to his room and throwing you on the bed, ignoring your complaints as he opened the drawer of his nightstand to get his handcuffs out of them. You gulped at the sight of the all too familiar object, throwing in a fight just for the sake of it as Seungmin attached you to his bed, your arms stretched up. 

“- What happened sweetheart ? Cat got your tongue ?”

This time, it was his tone that became condescending as Seungmin started to undress himself, getting rid of his shirt and teasing you by pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants but never pulling them down. Your eyes were glued to his body, barely listening to what he was saying. 

“- Shut up…”

Seungmin clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he got something else out of his nightstand.

“- Now, you know that’s not how you’re supposed to talk to me. I think I need to teach you a lesson. Again.”

As soon as your eyes got a glimpse of the vibrator Seungmin was holding in his hands, you knew you were fucked. You looked at him desperately, already pleading with your gaze for him to not do that. But he only chuckled darkly as he threw away your pants and your panties, spreading your legs open despite your resistance. 

“- You better listen to me now, if you want to cum at all tonight.”

The threat had you closing your mouth shut and letting him press his thumb harshly against your clit, making you writhe and moan underneath his touch. Seungmin knew how much you liked to have your hands on him, and he knew how bad you wanted him to touch you too, and not some toy. And that was exactly the reason why he chose to handcuff you to his bed and edge you with a vibrator. Maybe it was cruel, maybe you didn’t really deserve that. But Seungmin didn’t care, he needed to get his frustration out, and he was going to do it on you. 

He turned on the vibrator to a low setting, pressing it against your clit. You gasped at the sudden contact, your back arching off of the bed and eyes closing shut. And it only encouraged Seungmin to circle your clit with the toy, making the stimulation even more intense for you. Every sound of pleasure that fell from your lips was like music to his ears, but it was still not enough. He needed more, he needed to remind you that you were his. 

“- You’re close, uh ?”

You nodded at his words, your moans elevating higher and higher as time passed. He knew how sensitive you were, how easy it was to make you cum once you knew where to touch, where to caress you. While he was still holding the vibrator against your clit, he kept your legs spread open with the other, eyes fixed on the way your hole clenched around nothing, on the way you were getting wetter and wetter by the seconds. And just as you warned him that you were about to cum, Seungmin pulled the toy away, only earning cries of disappointment from your part. 

“- You really thought I would let you cum just like that when you’ve been nothing but a brat ? If you want something, beg for it sweetheart.”

Without letting you have any more time to think of an answer or to collect your thoughts, Seungmin increased the settings of the toy before pressing it back down to your clit, watching you struggle against the handcuffs, watching you moan pathetically, watching you gradually break down for him with every orgasm he ripped away from you. And he never once let you have his fingers, complying to thrust the toy in between your soaked folds once he was satisfied with how weak you sounded, with how much of a mess he made of you.

“- P-Please, Minnie… Please let me cum, please, I’m sorry…”

Your moans had morphed into choked sobs by now, tears streaming down your face as you looked up at him, noticing how his eyes were burning with a dark desire to have you at his mercy. And Seungmin was adamant on not letting you cum until he was satisfied with how much you cried, how much you begged, and how many times you said his name. 

“- Not yet. I think you need to remember who’s the only one that can make you feel good.”

You whined as Seungmin took away another one of your orgasms. Your whole body was trembling underneath him, your wrists were starting to hurt from the handcuffs, but your main focus was on your release. You could feel and hear how wet you were, and by now, you were so sensitive and swollen from the stimulation of the toy that every little touch made you squirm and whimper pitifully. 

“- So tell me, little whore, who’s making you cum the hardest ? Me or that lame guy who doesn’t even know that you like to be treated like a slut ?

- You ! You, it’s you Seungmin ! It’s you, please, please, let me cum…

- That’s right, you’re my slut. Say it.

- I-I’m your slut…”

The delirious state he had managed to get you in paired with your whiny words made a proud smirk creep up on his face as he threw the vibrator away, replacing it by his tongue as he lapped at your juices. Seungmin groaned against your folds as your legs instinctively closed around his head. But this time, he didn’t spread them back open, letting you smother him as he sucked on your clit, pushing two of his fingers deep inside of your cunt, just like he knew you liked it. 

“- Cum. Now.”

His command was followed by a string of moans and “thank you”’s as Seungmin feasted in between your thighs. He could claim he only did that because he knew you liked it, he could claim that he wasn’t even jealous, he could claim that he hadn’t cum in his pants just from hearing you say you were his. He could say whatever he wanted but the truth was that he was completely and utterly obsessed with you.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[tan1shere]

Scare You

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: not much to say except enjoy ! I hope this is good :) (it's kinda bad I'm sorry ☹) @omwtfybbbbb

Warnings: none really ! She comforts you

Masterlist

You didn't want to be here. But yet you were forced by your friends. Claiming, "You never got out of your house." - "You're a scardy cat Y/n." - "Loosen up, Y/n." So ofcourse you wanted to prove that wrong. But you were failing. Terribly. So terribly whenever a scare actor would come anywhere near you, you'd hang onto your friends arm for dear life. Was it stupid? Maybe, but you couldn't help the fact you got scared easily. Maybe it was down to childhood trauma so when stuff like this happens it triggers you. It couldn't get worse, surely.

Yup. It does.

You were walking around and for a good amount of time, you thought you were alright. No one had come up to you. Which is why this hurt really bad. One of them, a girl. Comes up behind you grabbing your shoulders briefly and making a loud growl. Your body sinks to the floor curling up into itself as you scream. Billie had faced many people with bad reactions. But not this bad. Not one she'd truly feel sorry for. Your friends tug you up. "Come on, it's fine." But it truly wasn't, you look back at the actor. Tears brimming your eyes slightly.

Her mood changes and her heart aches. She loved her job but not at that price. Sure she loved scaring people but not to the point of tears. This hurt her deeply, and all she wanted was to comfort you. But you were sadly out of sight.

Your friends continue to drag you along until one of them realizes your tears. "Ok, guys maybe we should call it quits for tonight." One of them furrows her brows. "Oh come on, Y/n needs to toughen up a bit." Their voices become distant as they argue. You couldn't take it, standing up and walking off. "Some friends." You mutter, walking along when all of a sudden you feel a hand on your shoulder again. You screech but they shh you calmingly. You turn to face them warily. "Hey its ok. It's just me from earlier." The woman says, taking off her mask. She was gorgeous.

"Oh.." you shy away. "I was going to say it wasn't my intention to scare you but- that's literally my job. I mean-" She sighs. "I just didn't mean to scare you to the point of literal tears." You blink at her. "Are you ok?" Your shoulders just shrug. "I'm so incredibly sorry-" But your tears come again. "I- I didn't even want to come here but my so called friends made me, making me feel like I was pathetic and I just wanted to prove them wrong but I didn't because I truly am pathetic, getting scared over people pretending all because of what happened when i was younger." You sob.

All the sentences were shakily said. She softens her look, going to carefully bring you into a hug. You tightly wrap your arms around her, needing that comfort right now. "They are certainly not friends. Nowhere near that title." Her hands smooth out your hair softly. Your breathing coming back to normal. "Shhh." She gently says. Your eyes close. "You're not pathetic, I promise you angel. I'm scared of alot of things too." You pull away to look at her. "Really? But it can't be anything like this? And I doubt it's silly like mine." "Water."

You stare at her for a second. "Water?" She nods. It honestly made you feel better. "Not so silly now huh?" You give her a faint smile. "You have a beautiful smile, keep it on more." Your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thank you for coming back to see me." She smiles, nodding. "It hurt when I saw you were crying I had to make sure you were ok." It was sweet to you. The reassuring nature of this girl was a huge comfort.

"Hey, what do you say we give those 'friends' a run for their money. Literally." She says.

"Great idea."

[cruel-seduction]

Hello! I was hoping I could request one where reader helps Eddie/Venom during a fight and gets hurt and they have to save her, lots of angst but a happy ending? Thank you very much!

Heyyy sorry it took a while. But I tried my best to write this. Hope you like it.

Shadows of Regret

The city was drenched in shadows, the alleyways pulsating with a darkness that seemed to wrap around you like a suffocating blanket. The distant hum of traffic echoed against the bricks, but you hardly noticed. Your heart raced as you stepped into the alley, the harsh, flickering light from a nearby streetlamp casting an eerie glow on the cold pavement. Clad in your favorite worn leather jacket, faded jeans, and scuffed boots, you felt a mix of adrenaline and fear. You had insisted on coming to help Eddie, even after he had urged you to stay behind. “You don’t understand what’s at stake,” he had said, his voice raw and pleading, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he turned away from you.

But you did understand. You understood the depths of his pain and the darkness that clung to him and Venom like a second skin. You couldn’t just stand by while he faced the chaos alone. You needed to be there for him, to remind him he wasn’t as lost as he believed.

When you arrived at the warehouse, the musty smell of metal and decay hit you like a wall. You could hear the distant growls and snarls of Venom as he clashed with the gang that had been terrorizing the city. Eddie’s gruff voice broke through the noise, tinged with anger and desperation. “Get out of here! You don’t belong here!” He didn’t see you, his back turned as he fought, but you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you.

“Eddie!” you shouted, your voice barely rising above the chaos. You stepped forward, heart pounding, your instincts screaming at you to turn back. But you couldn’t. Not now.

In that moment, Eddie spun around, eyes wild, his breath coming in harsh gasps. When he saw you, a flicker of shock crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by fury. “I told you to go! You shouldn’t be here!” His voice was a thunderclap, reverberating off the warehouse walls. The venomous edge in his tone cut deeper than any physical blow.

You recoiled slightly, hurt flashing across your features. “I’m not leaving you,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “You need me.”

But Eddie’s expression hardened, and you could see the internal battle raging within him. He stepped toward you, fists clenched, his body taut with tension. “You don’t get it! I can’t protect you if you’re here! I won’t let Venom hurt you. You have to trust me.”

A deep ache settled in your chest as his words sank in. You knew he was right to worry, but you also knew that pushing you away was tearing him apart. The guilt that shadowed his every move was palpable, and it stung you to see him like this, so raw and broken. “Eddie, please…” you began, but before you could finish, a loud crash echoed through the warehouse, pulling both your attention away.

Venom’s monstrous form loomed in the dim light, a twisted amalgamation of muscle and shadow, his white eyes glowing with a fierce intensity. He was strong, fierce, and ready to fight, but you could see the flicker of concern in those glowing orbs as he watched you.

“Get back!” Eddie shouted again, panic rising in his voice as he stepped in front of you, a shield against the chaos. He was imposing and protective, but the fear behind his eyes was unmistakable. “I can’t lose you too!”

You felt your breath hitch, a mix of hurt and determination swelling inside you. “Eddie, I can handle myself!” you insisted, pushing past him, refusing to cower. But the moment you stepped forward, the atmosphere shifted, a palpable tension crackling in the air.

Venom roared, lunging at the gang members, a mass of dark tendrils and fury. You turned to see the fight erupt, but the chaos quickly descended into a blur of fists and snarls. Suddenly, one of the attackers broke free, rushing toward you with a wild look in his eyes, and in that split second, everything changed.

The air was thick with tension as Eddie and Venom fought side by side, a chaotic whirlwind of violence and desperate energy. You stood there, torn between fear and the desire to help, watching as Eddie threw himself into battle. Every part of you screamed to turn away, to run and get out of harm's way, but you refused.

"I’m not leaving you," you whispered under your breath. You wouldn’t run, not after everything he’d already sacrificed. You refused to be another person to abandon him when he needed someone most. But in the instant you stepped forward, trying to close the gap between you and Eddie, the world shattered.

One of the gang members—a hulking figure whose face was contorted with anger—saw the opening. His eyes locked onto you, and before you could react, he lunged. You instinctively tried to dodge, but your foot caught on a loose piece of debris. Time seemed to stretch in that split second as you felt your body stumble, your knees buckling under you.

The pain was immediate. His hand clamped around your wrist like a vice, jerking you into the air before slamming you against the brick wall with a sickening thud.

"NO!" Eddie’s voice rang out, filled with raw terror, but you couldn’t hear him clearly over the buzzing in your ears. Your vision blurred, and your breath hitched as your side exploded with pain. The air was knocked from your lungs, sharp and searing. The wall scraped against your skin like jagged glass, sending an icy, fiery sting through your entire body.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn't think. Your body burned with the sensation of the world falling apart.

"Shit!" Eddie's voice, desperate and filled with anguish, reached you just as the air around you felt suffocating. His figure, all tension and fury, collided with the gang member. The force of the impact sent the man crashing backward, but Eddie didn’t even hesitate—he turned back to you in a heartbeat.

“Stay with me,” he begged, his voice breaking. His eyes were wide, frantic. The moment his gaze met you, it was as if he saw everything he'd been running from. His face contorted in fear, the protective mask he'd worn for so long slipping, revealing the broken man beneath.

You wanted to respond. To tell him you were fine, that it wasn’t so bad. But your body was betraying you, the pain spreading like wildfire across your ribs, your lungs. You gasped for air, but all that came was a pained, shallow breath. Your vision spun, and you could feel the sharp heat of blood pooling beneath you. The world around you dulled as your consciousness began to fade.

Eddie reached you before you could slip into unconsciousness, his hands trembling as he cradled your face. “No, please don’t do this,” he muttered, his voice jagged with desperation. “Don’t you dare leave me… I can’t… I can't lose you.” His words seemed to echo, thick with a vulnerability you’d never seen from him before.

Venom raged inside Eddie, a furious entity locked within him, but even Venom—powerful, violent, and untamed—seemed to share in Eddie's fear, his sense of helplessness. "Stay with her, Eddie," Venom growled, his voice like a thousand serpents hissing in the air. "You can't lose her. Not like this."

Eddie’s hands moved over you like he was trying to hold your brokenness together, his fingers grazing over the bloodied side of your body. “You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay,” he said, more to himself than to you. His voice was trembling, shaking with a fierce, raw energy. But his touch, frantic as it was, wasn’t enough to stop the blood that stained your clothes and soaked into his hands.

He looked at you again, his breath coming in desperate pants, his face pale. His eyes, usually sharp with intensity, were now wide and filled with terror, as if every bit of him had unraveled in an instant.

“I told you to stay back,” he choked out, his voice breaking, full of blame, guilt, and grief. “I told you… I told you it was too dangerous.”

But you hadn’t listened. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t leave him.

And now, seeing you so fragile, so hurt, Eddie felt like he was crumbling. He tried to push the guilt down, tried to focus on you, on getting you to safety. “I should’ve… I should’ve kept you safe.” His hands shook as he tried to stop the bleeding, but the blood kept coming, your life slipping away with every passing second.

“You shouldn’t have been here,” he muttered, the words coming out jagged, broken. “I never wanted this for you.”

Venom’s voice cut through the storm of Eddie’s thoughts. "Eddie, don’t—" The symbiote’s voice softened, a rare moment of calm in the midst of the chaos. "She chose to be here. She chose you."

Eddie swallowed, his breath uneven, and for the first time, he looked at Venom as though he’d never truly understood the weight of his own feelings. “I—no, I can’t lose her, Venom. I just can’t.”

Tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes as he pressed his palm to your side, trying to steady you, trying to hold onto you. “Please don’t leave me. I need you… I need you to stay.”

But your body was growing colder, your breath coming slower, and as much as Eddie tried, as much as he wished, he knew he couldn’t control everything. He couldn’t stop what was happening to you.

"Don't go, don't leave me..." Eddie repeated over and over again, each word a fragile thread he clung to as though it were his last lifeline.

Eddie’s frantic voice echoed in the stillness of the warehouse, as he tried desperately to keep you with him. The panic that had initially gripped him began to take on a sharper, deeper edge—the weight of everything pressing down on him. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not after everything he’d done to keep you safe, only for you to be hurt because you refused to leave his side.

The blood was still coming, staining the fabric of your clothes and soaking his hands as he tried to staunch the flow. The fear in his chest was suffocating. He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to you or to himself when he muttered, “Please, don’t leave me... please...”

His heart hammered against his ribcage, and he was on the verge of losing control. “You can’t leave me,” he said again, but his words felt hollow, too desperate, too broken. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry I told you to go. I should’ve let you stay. I should’ve trusted you.” The words were coming out in a rush, tumbling from his mouth as he clung to you, his hands trembling on your bloodied body. The guilt felt like it was suffocating him.

Venom surged within Eddie, the symbiote feeling the devastation pouring through him, but the anger and frustration were twisted with a strange, painful sense of helplessness. “Eddie,” Venom growled softly, his voice trying to ground Eddie through the chaos. “We have to focus. Stay with her. We will fix this.”

Eddie’s grip tightened on you, his eyes locked on your face as though willing you to respond. The world around him seemed to blur, and all he could focus on was you, the person who had refused to leave him no matter how many times he told you to go. His heart ached in a way that words couldn’t describe. You were slipping away from him, and he couldn’t stop it.

But then, just as the darkness started to close in around the edges of your vision, you felt a warmth—slow, steady, like a flicker of life trying to push back the cold. A faint pressure on your side. You could feel Eddie’s hands trembling on you, but there was something else. Something deeper, stronger, as though the bond between you and Eddie was pulsing, alive, trying to fight back.

You didn’t know how long it had been, moments stretched into infinity, but the warmth you felt began to grow, spreading through your body, igniting something inside you. With effort, you forced your eyes open, the dim light from the broken windows above casting a shadow on Eddie’s face. His expression was a tortured mess, eyes filled with unshed tears as they locked onto yours.

"Eddie..." you whispered, the sound rasping from your throat, but just the act of speaking, of breathing, was enough to bring a glimmer of hope.

His name was a strangled sob. He leaned down, his forehead touching yours as though you were the only thing that mattered in the world. “You’re awake... You’re awake.” His voice cracked, the rawness of his emotions spilling out in that single sentence. “I thought... I thought I lost you.”

He was shaking now, barely able to breathe, his hand gently cupping your face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...” Eddie repeated over and over, as though he could make it all better if he just said it enough. His lips trembled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. The love and pain mixed in that kiss, raw and unfiltered.

“I couldn’t... let you leave me,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I need you.”

Venom’s voice rumbled from deep within Eddie, but it wasn’t filled with fury this time. Instead, there was a strange warmth in it, almost as if the symbiote itself had recognized the gravity of the moment. “You’re both stronger than you think, Eddie. Together.”

Eddie’s hand slid down to your side, gingerly pressing to the wound, but this time, the blood flow had slowed. The bleeding had stopped. Venom, in his own way, had reached inside, using his healing abilities to stitch the torn pieces of your body together. The symbiote worked quickly, trying to make sure you were stable.

You could feel the pull of Venom’s influence, but it wasn’t suffocating. It was healing. It was saving you.

The moment dragged on, but slowly, you started to feel your strength return, your breathing becoming less shallow, the dizziness ebbing away. You looked up at Eddie, who still hovered above you, his eyes wide, watchful, never leaving your face.

“I’m… okay…” you whispered hoarsely, though you knew it wasn’t completely true. But the warmth spreading through your body, the steadiness returning to your breath, gave you hope.

“Okay?” Eddie repeated, his voice still cracked, but there was disbelief in it, as if he couldn’t quite accept that you were truly waking up, that you were going to be okay. “You’re... you’re gonna be fine. I swear to God, I’ll make sure of it.”

For a moment, it felt like the weight of the world had lifted just a little. Eddie’s hands were still on you, but this time, it wasn’t frantic. It was tender, caring, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were still there, still alive. Venom’s presence—once something terrifying and alien—now felt oddly comforting, like an anchor, steadying Eddie and allowing him to focus on the most important thing in that moment: you.

Your body was exhausted, but the warmth of Eddie’s touch, the bond you shared with him and with Venom, was enough to make you feel like you could hold on.

“We’re not leaving you, not now,” Eddie promised, his voice fierce but filled with relief.

You nodded, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you reached out with shaky hands to pull him closer, needing him more than you had ever needed anyone. “I’m here, Eddie,” you whispered, your voice soft but determined. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Eddie let out a deep breath, his tension easing as he pulled you into his arms, his body cradling yours protectively. Venom was there too, a steady, comforting presence within Eddie, assuring that they would both protect you—no matter the cost.

“I promise,” Eddie murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll be okay. All of us. Together.”

As the night pressed on, the city still echoing with its distant sounds, the three of you remained, bound together in a way that felt unbreakable. Whatever the future held, whatever dangers awaited, you knew that you’d face them side by side.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (30)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of death in childbirth, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He believed he heard her screams and moans from afar. When he turned, he was standing in one of the chambers of Dragonstone, his uncle and his nephews sitting beside him around the table, tense.

All the women were with her now.

"How much longer is this going to take?" He asked impatiently, feeling discomfort and a twinge in his stomach at the thought that his niece had suffered in agony for so many hours, trying to bring his offspring into the world.

It was because of him, he thought with pain.

"It's hard to say. Laena's first birth was also difficult. She bore Baela only in the evening of the same day." Daemon said lowly, fiddling with the wine goblet standing on the table in front of him, of which he took a long, loud sip after a moment.

He pretended not to care.

He was trying to suppress his mind with alcohol.

He swallowed hard, glancing down at his fingers, noticing with horror that blood was oozing from the cuticles around his fingernails.

He rose immediately from his seat, horrified when one of the servants stepped into the chamber.

"− Y-Your Grace − you have a son − but your lady-wife −" She mumbled out with difficulty − only after a moment he saw that her trembling hands were all sticky with blood.

Her blood.

He rushed out of the chamber as if in a trance, not hearing his uncle's call, and walked swiftly into the room from which only a moment ago he had heard her howling, her screams, her cries.

Now someone was crying too, but not her − her mother was clutching her face to her body, high-pitched wails and moans coming from her throat as if someone was skinning her.

He didn't even pay attention to the infant, quivering and sobbing loudly in the arms of one of the servants − all he looked at was her face, the face of his wife, drenched in sweat and pale, her lips slightly parted, her gaze blank and distant, her body numb, lifeless.

"− Rhaenys −" He muttered, coming up to her quickly, hearing only his own ragged breathing, only the loud pounding of his heart in his chest. He climbed onto the bed, his hand touching her cheek.

It was still warm.

"− Rhaenys, look at me − it's all over now, my sweetest −" He breathed out, not listening to Rhaenyra's moans or cries, recognising that she was merely being dramatic, that his niece was simply exhausted and tired.

Her eyes stared somewhere far ahead of her, the traces of tears still clearly visible on her skin.

Was she calling out for him?

Did she beg him to come, terrified?

Why hadn't he heard anything?

"− Rhaenys − look at me −" He mumbled out, feeling like he was choking.

He sobbed in despair, cuddling his face into her soft, fragrant hair, hugging her close as if she were still a child.

She seemed so small to him, so weak.

"− gods, please, not her −"

"− Rhaenys −" He exhaled, pulling himself up to sit down, feeling his heart pounding like mad. He looked around, terrified, seeing only darkness, struggling to recognise the furniture and objects around him.

He was in his chamber, in King's Landing.

Alone.

Where was she?

Was all this, their marriage, her warm body snuggled into his, just a dream?

He groaned with despair at the thought, running his hand over his face − he closed his eye and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself, his whole body quivering, his heart pounding like mad.

He hissed, clutching at his eye where the sapphire had been placed, feeling the sudden, sharp pain in his skull that had accompanied him in his moments of greatest fear and horror.

He had never shared it with anyone.

He knew it meant he was weak.

That he cared too much, that he could no longer control neither his feelings for her nor the things that came with them.

He only calmed down after a while, reminding himself that he had sent her a letter, that he had returned to the Red Keep only a few days ago, and that every night he had spent since then had been the same.

He couldn't get any peace since she wasn't by his side.

Since he had spoken of what had happened with his brother.

"− how could you fly to Dragonstone without my knowledge or consent? −" Aegon growled, both of them sitting alone in his chamber.

His brother-king demanded his explanation as soon as he found out that he had returned to the Red Keep.

"− I had no choice − our grandfather wanted to end things in a different way than we had assumed − I had to get them out of there −" He said lowly, hoping for his support in what he intended to do with Larys Strong.

Aegon did not even look at him at his words, his gaze fixed on the dagger he was playing with in his hand.

"− Aegon −" He said impatiently, and his brother lifted his calm gaze to him from which he felt a tightening in his throat, his heart stopped for a moment.

"− you knew −"

Aegon shrugged his shoulders.

"− what would be left if they did not agree? −" He asked more to himself than to him, running his fingers along the steel blade. He ran his hand over his face and closed his eye for a moment, trying to calm himself.

Fuck.

"− her life would be taken by your order too? −" He hissed angrily − his older brother threw him a quick, warning glance.

"− no − I forbade anyone to touch her − she is yours −" He replied in a firm voice not withstanding the objection.

"− I did what I thought was right to protect my children − they agreed to our terms, so let's rejoice and not stir up pointless arguments −" He said impatiently, his jaw clenched in anger at his words.

"− our grandfather told you that they would have died that night anyway? −"

Aegon furrowed his brow and raised his surprised, uncertain gaze at him, as if wondering if he should believe him. He shifted uneasily in his seat and grunted.

"− where do you get this knowledge from? −"

"− Larys Strong − I want his head −"

"− he is our informer −"

"− he has threatened me and my wife − he has let me know that everything is arranged to end the war, no matter what the price − do what you want with our grandfather, but he is to die − this is my price for concealing the truth from me −" He growled, rising from his seat, circling the chamber as if in amok, feeling that his head was filled with chaos.

Was this how she had felt when he had betrayed her?

When he had concealed it all from her?

"− we need to think this through properly − find a reason to bring him to King's Landing −" He muttered, looking down at his fingers, apparently recognising that he could sacrifice one man to appease his wrath and not lose the greatest of dragons in this war.

"− no − 'tis I who will fly to Harrenhal − the sooner the better −" He said impatiently, folding his hands behind him.

"− there is no need for you to get involved − I will give the order −"

"− I want to do it with my own hands −"

Aegon looked at him for a moment in thought.

"− have you been so madly in love with her all this time? −"

He stopped, looking at him over his shoulder, shocked, feeling a wave of shame surge through his body.

He didn't know what he should answer.

Aegon snorted under his breath, shaking his head.

"− you've always been a poor liar − whenever someone uttered her name you got up from the table and left, as if you did't spend your evenings fucking yourself with your hand thinking of her −" He sneered, crossing his legs, spreading himself comfortably in his chair.

"− am I wrong, little brother? −" He asked softly, cocking his head in curiosity.

He sighed heavily when he was answered by his silence.

"− what did Daemon say? −"

He grunted in relief that he had changed the subject, his heart pounding like mad.

"− he is vigilant − he does not believe me or you − but he will not oppose Rhaenyra − and she loves her daughter −"

Aegon hummed under his breath and nodded thoughtfully.

"− there is nothing more dangerous than the love of a parent for his child −"

Aegon ordered him to stay in King's Landing for a few days to avoid arousing anyone's suspicions before he set off again for Harrenhal, and he agreed to this not willingly. Later that day his mother visited him in his chamber, throwing herself into his arms.

"− I thought I would never see you again −" She muttered, her familiar, pleasant scent of floral oils filling his nostrils.

"− mother −" He replied, placing a hand on her back. Alicent pulled away from him, looking at him with excitement and fear.

"− is it true? − Rheanyra agreed? −" She asked, and he nodded. A loud sigh of relief left her lips, her hand on her heart, a shy, girlish smile on her lips.

"− gods − maybe all is not lost yet −"

He had no peace night or day, thinking only of her and what would happen if she did not bear him a child as well as what might happen if she had to carry his heir under her heart.

The stories that he had heard about his father's first wife, and her grandmother, rattled around in his head, the sight of the white-haired woman with a slit lower abdomen haunting him and not letting him sleep a wink.

He was terrified.

However, he knew that before he set off for Harrenhal he had to face the person he feared most.

His grandfather.

He had managed to persuade Aegon to control him, but he feared that once he was out of the Red Keep, his grandfather would continue his plan behind their backs.

He could not allow that to happen.

He visited him on the morning before his journey to Harrenhal. Already dressed in his riding attire, he stood before him − his grandfather cast him a lazy, surprised look from above the book he had just been looking through.

"− Aemond − what brings my grandson here? − how was your visit to Dragonstone? −" He asked softly, as he always did when he was playing with another person, pretending that there was no subtext in his words.

He hated him for doing it, forever mocking him and Aegon.

He only showed concern for Helaena, because he couldn't use her any more than he already did.

"− I've been thinking a lot lately, grandfather − about my mother −" He began lowly, standing upright before him with his hands folded behind his back, knowing exactly what he wanted to say to him.

Otto raised his eyebrows, intrigued, spreading himself comfortably in his chair, crossing his legs.

"− indeed? −" He asked teasingly, as if he were speaking to a small, unaware child.

He decided not to react.

"− marriage has opened my eyes to many things that did not previously occupy my head − a husband's duties to his wife and what they mean were as distant to me as Essos until I experienced them myself −" He hummed, turning his head away, looking into the distance, at the sea reaching the horizon stretching beyond the great bay.

"− I cannot imagine a woman more helpless and vulnerable than when she lies beneath her husband, at his mercy − my wife then looks at me with trust and warmth, her body welcomes me with ease − but tell me, grandfather − how old was my mother when you ordered her to seduce my father? −" He asked coolly, looking at him − his grandfather furrowed his brow, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"− she was of an age suitable for marriage −" He replied indifferently. "− are you now going to lecture me on the raising of my children? − my decisions concerning her future? − she became a Queen −"

He snorted at his words, his lips parted in a mocking smile, revealing his teeth.

"− did you ever imagine it? − my old father with big, rotting wounds, lying on top of your daughter, and my mother? − I imagined that such a man would try to take my wife − I would kill him, even if he were her rightful husband −" He hissed, and Otto laughed, as if he had never heard a greater foolishness.

"− indeed? − do you think you understand how it is? − as far as I know, you and your beloved wife have not yet conceived your offspring − who knows if you will ever succeed − the will of the gods is impenetrable −" He said with a sneer, from which he felt his blood begin to boil in his veins, his hands involuntarily clenched into fists.

"− what did it feel like to sit on the Iron Throne while my father babbled stupefied by poppy milk? − was it in those moments that you felt it was worth it? − what did you truly sacrifice? −" He asked, answering him with a mocking sneer. His grandfather rose from his seat, furious, clearly trying to control himself.

"− everything −"

He laughed at his words, shaking his head.

"− no, grandfather − WE have sacrificed everything for you − my mother, my brother-king, Helaena and me − but if you think I will sacrifice my wife for you, you are sorely mistaken − one more misstep like this, one more move behind my back and you will go back to where you came from −"

"− how dare you threaten me − you owe me everything −"

"− no − YOU owe us everything − without us you are nothing, my Hand of the King −" He hissed, turning away tense, leaving his chamber with a slam of the door.

What could he do to him?

Kill him?

Deprive his brother of his dragon rider?

He prayed his words would cause him to refrain from further action, but he feared his grandfather would do something they would all regret in fear of losing power.

Even if a part of him truly protected his family, the other part always wanted the crown.

Always.

He had destroyed his mother by giving her to an old, dying man who called her by his dead wife's name, humiliating her over and over again.

He watched her endure her fate for years with humility, believing that the gods would one day reward her for her patience and sacrifice, for her devotion and care, the heavens, however, never answered her prayers.

As she locked all her desires deep within her heart, Aegon let them out completely, allowing them to cloud his vision for years.

He could not decide if what their grandfather had condemned them all to was dictated by care, or merely his unquenchable thirst for power.

He saw hope, however, in the fact that where Daemon and Otto refused to step down, Rhaenyra and Aegon were showing signs of common sense. Although there was much doubt in him, he believed that there was a way forward that did not lead to the complete destruction of their lineage.

He set off for Harrenhal at the head of a small troop of soldiers whose mission was to capture Larys' spies in Harrenhal and the Eyrie.

He wished to deal with Lord Strong personally.

To his surprise and frustration, he found the fortress deserted and surrendered − Lord Strong had fled, hiding somewhere, taking several servants and all the gold with him.

He felt like a fool standing in the empty stronghold looking at the terrified figures of the lord's distant relatives, his servants, farmers and landlords, evidently fearing to face his wrath.

Something else, however, caught his attention.

"Where is Alys Rivers?"

"In the dungeons, Your Grace." Declared one of the men, without raising his eyes at him.

"Take me to her."

He walked down into the underground of the fortress, accompanied by his guards, the clang of their steel armour and weapons all around them. They pointed their torches at one of the cells, and only after a moment did he recognise in the woman lying on the stone ground the person who had kept him awake for so many nights.

That fucking prophecy of hers.

"Wake up, woman." He commanded coldly, stepping closer to the steel bars. Indeed, he saw in the darkness the green of her eyes when she suddenly lifted her eyelids, her face and hands all bruised.

He had the impression that she had lost weight − she was pale, her eyes all red, her hands were trembling. She rose slowly, looking at him curiously, and grinned in a way that sent a shiver through him.

"Leave us alone." He said to his guards, and they nodded and obediently went back upstairs.

He only spoke to her when he was sure they could not hear him.

"Why did you lie? I could have your head for this." He hissed, his hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding like mad.

He needed to hear it from her.

The woman laughed weakly at his words, shaking her head with amusement.

"If there were no capacity for treachery in you, my words would not frighten you, Your Grace. But it wouldn't be the first time you've stabbed her in the back, would it?" She sneered, making his jaw clench tightly in rage.

Will you stab a dagger into my heart?

He was embarrassed and bitter that he didn't know what to answer.

She played him like a little child, making a fool of him.

"Why?" He growled feeling that he was red with embarrassment.

Alys Rivers shrugged her shoulders.

"My brother reckoned that after what was going to happen in the Eyrie she would try to take her own life again. I don't consider myself a good person, but I'm not heartless. I wanted you to be horrified by my words and get her as far away from here as possible."

"How dare you manipulate me and my wife."

"I didn't manipulate her. There was no need for that. You. Your pride wouldn't allow you to listen to the advice of a bastard woman, on top of the Strong line. A witch's prophecy that could give birth to your bastard child would be a different matter. Wouldn't it?" She asked, cocking her head curiously, her luscious green eyes shining uneasily in the darkness making him feel a cold sweat run down his neck.

He had never been so ashamed before, his stomach and throat squeezed so tightly that he had trouble breathing.

"Whose fucking side are you on, you insolent whore?" He hissed through clenched teeth, filled with humiliation and hatred, thinking that he would most like to tear her apart.

Her grin full of amusement made him breathless with rage.

"I am on my side. But my cold heart supports your wife. She has broken deep into it and refuses to leave it. I'm certain you understand me. Such a sweet girl."

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" He shouted low, his voice echoing powerfully around them.

Only after a moment did he realise he was panting heavily, his heart pounding like mad.

How could he possibly feel jealousy now?

He turned on his heel, recognising that she could have died of hunger and thirst in there, that he didn't care that Larys had probably locked her in there because she had warned his wife.

He couldn't bear that she, a stranger, had done something for her that he couldn't.

She had sacrificed herself for her.

That night he did not sleep a wink; he waited to hear from his wife and from his commanders whether they had found Lord Strong yet.

It seemed to him that every time he tried to do something right, everything fell apart in his hands.

He didn't know why, but it made him want to cry at the thought.

It was only in the morning that he was relieved − one of the servants brought him a message from Dragonstone, which he opened as soon as he was alone in his chamber.

I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys

He breathed a sigh of relief as he read her words again and again, feeling that warmth was beaming from them, that her anger at him had already fled slowly. He ran his finger over the letters her hand had written thinking about her, about how much he needed her now, how lonely he felt.

Whether he wanted to or not, not wanting to cause another argument between them, he ordered that Alys Rivers be locked in her chamber and that food be served to her.

He did not want to see her, but wished to respect his wife's wishes.

He wrote back to her message right away, wishing it to reach Dragonstone as soon as possible.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

He ordered his letter to be sent immediately and waited, spending days pondering and discussing with his soldiers, searching the forests and strongholds of nearby lords, trying to find the man who in his eyes was a lousy rat.

He suspected his grandfather had managed to warn him, and felt furious that they had played him like a child.

Never before in his life had he wanted to kill another human being so badly.

Not even Luke.

However, one morning he was awakened by something that sent him into a state of terror − he pulled himself up on his bed when he heard the roar of dragons in the distance, the sweeping flap of their wings as they flew over the fortress like a great shadow.

He rose quickly, walking over to the window and laughed under his breath, involuntarily smiling with wonderful, overpowering relief as he saw the slender beast with silver-blue scales shimmering in the sunlight land next to the fortress.

As soon as he saw that the figure of the dragon rider had slipped off its back he turned, put his boots on his feet and walked out of his chamber disregarding his inadequate attire, linen shirt and breeches, running quickly down the stairs to meet her.

His wife.

[milla-frenchy]

4k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: Joel takes you to Degradation Town Warnings: 18+mdni. CNC. PWP. Assault, gun threat, degradation, size kink, oral (m receiving), boob job, fingering, pussy slapping, face slapping, bondage, unprotected piv, rimming, anal, cum eating a/n : @aurorawritestoescape and I wrote this fic together. How amazing is that, to meet someone who lives in another part of the world, and to write a 4 hands fic. We want to thank our Dark Queen @toxicanonymity for creating an amazing community where Kate and I met 🖤  Love you both 🫶🫶🫶 The fic is named after The Kills album “Keep on your mean side” and the song “Hitched”. ao3

Kate's masterlist | My masterlist

It was a warm day at the beginning of the fall. The breeze was a bit chilly but the sun rays filtering through the canopy of the forest trees didn’t let you get cold. The crunching of dry leaves under your steps made you feel uneasy. You  didn’t want to attract any clickers. Your gaze was on the ground and you were searching for some mushrooms. 

Your thoughts carried you to the time when you would go foraging with your parents, many years ago. It was a hobby back then, not a necessity. You felt a dull pang in your chest. The memory of such a distant past now, as if it happened not in another life but in a completely different dimension, not to you but to a version of yourself. 

Deep in thought you missed another set of steps crunching the fallen leaves. Suddenly you sensed someone else’s gaze on you and was about to turn around ready to take your gun out to protect yourself, but it was too late. Huge arms gripped you from behind squeezing your frame tight and keeping your arms pressed to your body. 

“The fuck?!” you exclaimed and tried to headbutt the man behind you but he swerved your hit. You were fruitlessly wiggling in his steel embrace. 

 “Let m-me go, you fucker!!”

“Shhhh..” the man shushed you, placing his hot palm over your mouth to shut you up. His hand smelt of smoke and along with a loud drum of your heart you felt a tingle between your thighs.

He quickly disarmed you, taking your gun out of your holster and throwing it away into the bushes. The man was huge and strong and you were helpless against him. Yet you couldn’t give in so easily. So you quickly lifted up your foot and stepped down hard on the attacker’s boot. 

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

He winced and pushed you hard on the ground. You fell on all fours, got up to run but he quickly grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back to face him. “Not so fast, little slut!”

You screamed with a pain stinging your eyes, and looked up at him towering over you. The man was in his late fifties. His dark eyes were boring into you under the frowning brows. A gray shirt was strained by his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was wearing jeans and you couldn’t help but glance at his prominent bulge. Was he semi hard? Now you had little doubt about the plans he had for you. 

Your eyes darted from tree to tree trying to see if he was accompanied or alone.

“Where d’ya think you're goin’ like this? You must be fuckin’ stupid to walk in the woods by yourself.”

He was holding your arm tight. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. You tried to reason with him, your voice shaky and small, “I’m not alone. I'm here as a scout, my group is close.”

“It’s cute, but I don’t think so. You’re on my perimeter. The only group here's mine. It’s so deserted around here, it’s been ages since I’ve come across a woman like you.” 

He put his hand on his crotch.

“Like me?”

“On your knees”

“Don’t think so,” you spat out at him. 

He smirked and pulled his gun out from the back of his jeans. 

“On your knees. Don’t wanna repeat.”

"No, wait. I can... we can work it out. Make trades.”

He pointed his gun at you and growled, “Last warning.”

You stared down the barrel contemplating your next move. 

“Fuck…”

He smirked again.

You got on your knees and he undid his belt before letting it fall to the ground. Then he unzipped his jeans, took out his cock, and approached you.

Your eyes widened and he smiled, “Yeah, I know. Now suck.”

“Please. Don’t do this to me.”

He removed the safety of his gun and pointed the barrel at your forehead.

“You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You stopped resisting. He just wanted you to suck him off. Could be worse. You might as well make him cum quickly in your mouth and be rid of it.

You quickly licked the tip of his cock, before placing your lips on it. You had trouble taking it all in your mouth, and you kept your lips only on the tip.

“Damn, you don’t even know how to suck a cock?”

Keeping the gun pointed at your forehead, he grabbed the back of your head with his other hand and held you still, while he thrusted into your mouth with a buck of his hips. He grunted, and keeping his hand against your head, began fucking your mouth at a quick pace.

“Yeah that’s it. Take it. Fuckin’ slut. Not used to sucking big cocks, are ya?”

Tears were beading in the corners of your eyes, you could barely breathe, his cock was hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. Your hands were gripping the jeans on his strong thighs. He stopped abruptly, keeping his cock buried deep in your throat.

“Don’t you dare fucking move.”

You waited, trapped between his grip and his cock. Then he released you and withdrew completely. You coughed and sputtered, holding your sore throat.

He laughed, “I don’t know how you survived this far. Surely not by sucking cocks. Again, now!"

You shook your head but he held you the same way as before, thrusting in and fucking your mouth fast and deep again. He tucked the gun into the back of his pants and grabbed your head with both hands before claiming you even faster and harder. He paused again, staying deep in your mouth, and said, "Good girl."

He pulled away and said: “Maybe you could get better with practice. Too bad I don't have time to find out. You're not worth wasting food on."

Before he could grab his gun, you quickly got up and ran towards the nearest trees, so he couldn't shoot you in the back. But he was fast, and didn't even try to reach for his gun. He ran after you and within seconds he was on your heels. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down.

You plunged down on the ground, dry leaves softening your fall. You tried to crawl away but he straddled your ass. The man was heavy and you felt your hips sink into the soil under you. 

“Get off me! Take all my stuff… Just let me go!” you pleaded but he just laughed. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back.  You cried out and winced at the sensation of his patchy beard scratching your cheek. 

“Stupid slut, ya really think I need your junk?” he growled in your ear and nuzzled your neck. Your  eyes rolled back at the sensation. 

“Your holes are all that you're good for.” 

He turned you over roughly and straddled your hips again. He clasped both of your wrists with one hand and pinned them over your head. He was panting and you saw drops of sweat on his forehead. His odor, an overwhelming mixture of sweat and musk, reached your nostrils. 

You were staring up at him with your eyes widened by fear. His grin was carnal and he was ogling down your body. Then he grabbed the neckline of your tank top and pulled it down in one swift motion, ripping the fabric easily. You cried out feeling the burn on your skin. Your whole chest was exposed to him now, and he quickly grabbed your breasts, squeezed them and then painfully twitched your perked up nipples.  A whine escaped your lips which didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Ain’t I lucky? Got myself a real whore. My men will love your pretty sounds when they’re stuffing your needy cunt.” 

He let go of your hands and you were about to fight when you saw him take out his gun. 

“Let’s start easy,” he said and you felt the cold muzzle pressed to your forehead. 

“Push them together,” he pointed at your breasts with a jerk of his head. 

You followed his order, pressing your tits together. You did not want to get shot. His hand reached behind your neck and he lifted up your upper body. “Make ‘em nice and juicy for me.” He was squeezing your neck tight and you glanced up at him with glossy eyes. 

Then you dropped your head down and spat. It landed on your chest and slid down between your breasts.

“More”, he commanded and gave your head a shake. You gathered more saliva in your mouth and opened your lips to let it dribble out. The man’s gaze followed its path, his eyes blown out, and when it reached your plush breasts he began smearing the liquid over your tits with his thick fingers, gliding them through your cleavage and then rubbing it over your perked up nipples. You whined. 

The man stood up on his knees on both sides of your hips and took out his leaking cock. You were following his every move pushing your breasts together for him to use. 

“Look at you! Waiting to be titty fucked. Bet that’s why you were walkin’ alone in the woods- were waitin’ for a nice big cock to find ya.”

He grabbed you by the neck and quicky pushed his cock between your tits and started fucking them. You were sitting as still as possible, watching him use you for his pleasure, his mouth agape and half lidded eyes devouring the sight of your glistening breasts massaging his cock. 

You were mesmerized by the movements of his tip sliding closer and then further away from your face. 

“Don’t just stare, slut, lick it!” 

Still holding your tits for him, you stuck your tongue out and every time the angry red head approached your face, you kitten-licked its weeping slit. 

You pressed your thighs together looking for some pressure on your pussy. You moaned softly and the man noticed it. Still looking at you with dazed eyes, he smirked.

“What is it, little whore? Your pussy wants attention, huh?”

Having said that, he released your neck and not expecting it you fell back on the ground. 

Pointing the gun at your face he kicked your thighs apart with his knee. “Let’s see her.”

You inhaled sharply, and did what he told you- slid the jeans and panties down your legs exposing yourself to him. He snatched the underwear off your ankles and pressed them to his nose. 

He closed his eyes, breathing in your scent and slowly pumping his throbbing cock. ”Soaked them through, ya dirty girl. Your sloppy cunt really wants my dick.” 

Then he leaned over you with a groan and shoved your panties into your whining mouth. 

“Taste, yourself, slut. Come on. Open your legs. Wider…”

You opened up your thighs and looked up at him. His broad frame covered you from the sun completely, his face close to yours. The taste of your own slick turned you on. 

One second you felt his fingers at your entrance and the next he plunged them into your pussy. The arousal flowing out of you made the intrusion almost painless and you felt so full so fast, your head started spinning. His groan brought you back.  

“Mmm, fuck yeah, so wet. Bet you can soak many cocks right now.” He lowered his head, pulled your panties out of your mouth and grazed his lips over yours, not kissing you yet your heart seemed to stop at that moment. “S’good that I stumbled on ya, little slut. My men will be pleased.”

As fast as he filled you, he pulled his fingers out and sat back on his knees between your thighs. Your pussy clamped around nothing. You felt a cold breeze on your wet folds and wiggled on the ground. 

“Lie still!” the man snapped and slapped your pussy so hard you yelped and started crying. You chewed on your lip trying to control your emotions but all of them drowned you whole and your chest was shaking with sobs. 

The attacker’s dark smile sent chills all over your trembling body. He quickly gave your poor pussy another blow, less painful yet you tried to close your legs. That really angered him. 

“Fuckin’ pain in the ass. Can’t stay still, dumb whore. You’re gonna get it anyway.”

He grabbed your neck with one hand, and you instinctively stood up following his movements, your throat already sore from the way he fucked your mouth.

He dragged you to his backpack and pulled out a rope while maintaining his grip on your neck. You felt all your hairs stand up, and the blood left your face. He pulled you to the nearest tree, against which he pinned you, back to the trunk. He pressed himself to you, straining his hard cock against your naked pussy. He put your hands above your head and tied them to the tree with the rope. He squeezed so hard while tying your wrists that you started sobbing again.

He took a few steps back to look at you, naked from the waist down, your breasts exposed, your top torn in half. Then he took his cock in his hand.

“No…please… I'll do anything"

"Oh, you will", he said, smirking.

He came up, pressed himself against you and spread your legs with his knees, before pushing his cock into your pussy. You cried out, being split open by his huge member. His fingers had prepared you a little but he was so big and girthy you felt a slight burning. He put his hand over your mouth and asked “Really wanna scream and get my men here to ruin your holes?”

You froze looking into his dark hungry eyes.

“So? Fuckin answer me.”

You shook your head.

“That’s better,” he said, removing his hand.

He sped up the thrusting but the position didn't allow him to fuck you as deep as he wanted. So he grabbed your thighs in his hands and put them around his waist, before sliding into you again and bottoming out this time, in one go.

“No! No… please…. I can’t.”

He growled against your ear scratching your cheek with his stubble, picking up the pace. 

“Fuckin slut. Gonna take you back to my camp. My men will enjoy your… fuck… your pussy.”

"No! Please!"

“Oh fuck that’s good. Your cunt is fuckin tight. Fuuuuck…”

He was making you bounce on his cock, holding your thighs so tight against him that he was hitting  your cervix with each stroke.

“How many guys can fuck you before you pass out, huh? Your pussy’d be so full of cum that we’d call you our cumbag, before fucking you again. So long since we fucked a wet hole like yours. Oh fuck…. that’s good.”

He didn’t slow down and still was fucking you just as hard and fast. You couldn’t help but moan as his dick was massaging your g-spot. 

“You have so many holes to fill, dumb slut. It would be a shame to use just one, yeah?” he asked, panting against your ear. “We can fuck your pussy, mouth and ass at the same time. Fuck all your three holes, for hours. What'd ya think of it, bitch?”

Suddenly his hands let go of your thighs and you put your feet back on the ground, your legs weak and shaking after the pounding. “Let’s see your ass, slut,” he murmured and started untying your hands. When your hands were free you almost fell on the ground exhausted but he grasped your hair and pulled you up. 

“Not done with you. Turn around.”

“Please, no,” you begged, your voice quiet and weak but he answered your pleading with a slap on your tear-stained cheek. Your skin burned and not wanting to make him angry again, you followed his command and turned around. He grabbed your hands and pinned them around the tree like you were hugging it, tying them together. 

His finger glided along the scratches on your back and ass, left by the tree bark after his rough fucking and he slapped your ass cheek so hard your breath hitched. A half moan half sob left your lips and you pressed your body to the tree to get further away from your attacker. 

“What are you doing? Please, no… not that.” You begged him with tremors in your voice.

He didn’t answer. You turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on your ass. He spread your cheeks with his hands.

“Damn…,” he said.

He left one of his hands on one of your buttocks to keep spreading them, and brushed your asshole with his fingers. Without lingering on it he glided them down to your pussy and plunged two fingers into you.

“Can’t believe ya’re soaked getting fucked by a stranger who jumped you. You wanted that, huh? Fuckin slut.”

He drew his fingers out, and this time went back up to your asshole. He placed his middle finger on your ring and gently pressed it. Surprisingly gently, considering how violent he had been so far.

That didn’t stop you from panicking. You couldn't take it there. He was too big.

He pressed harder on the ring. The tip of his middle finger prodded inside just a little. He went back to your pussy and collected your wetness again, then returned to your ass, gliding his fingers along your skin on the way. He pressed on your asshole, and this time it gave in more.

You were paralyzed. Restricted by the rope on your hands, by his physical power. By your fear which froze you.

He pressed his body to you, and whispered in your ear, “This one is really tight.”

You swallowed, and wondered if he was really gonna do it. If he was just trying to scare you, or if... and then he pushed his middle finger in further, up to the knuckle. He moved it in and out, but you were so tight around his finger.

He removed it and pressed his cock to your ass. He whispered in your ear, “How am I gonna fit all my cock in it? You should relax if you don’t want it to be too painful.”

You felt him kneel behind you. He spread your ass cheeks with his hands, wide. And spat. You felt saliva flow from the top of the crease of your ass, down to your asshole. He didn't move, as if he was watching it slide.

The moment you felt the liquid reach your ring, he added his tongue to it. He slid it down and spread the saliva around your tense muscle.

And he licked your ass, slowly. He didn’t rush it. His hands were still spreading your buttocks, his mouth not leaving your asshole for a second, working his tongue over it. He pulled back slightly, and licked his middle finger before pressing it against your rear entrance. He went in easily this time. He took it out, and added a second finger. You bit your upper arm. Again he licked your ass. You felt his tongue searching you, his saliva moistening your hole.

“Mmm”, he said.

He got up and you heard him spit into his hand, before applying the saliva to his tip. He grabbed your shoulder with one hand for leverage and pressed his cock against your ring.

You struggled, pulling on the rope.

“Fuck! Stop that, you’re pissin’ me off again.”

You didn’t stop until you heard the click of his gun again. Then you felt the cold metal against your temple and froze.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass. Whether you’re alive, or not. Your choice."

His voice was ice cold.

You closed your eyes and relaxed your muscles as best you could. And you felt him push. Force passage. It seemed like an eternity, and he growled against your ear.

“So…fuckin tight.”

In a second the tip of his cock entered. You gasped from the pain.

He pulled back before pushing again and you cried out.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch” he said, before putting his hand over your mouth and pressing the muzzle to your temple more firmly.

He made back and forth movements, bigger and bigger. Sinking into you a little deeper each time.

“Oh yeah… oh fuck! Oh that ass…. fuck.”

He picked up the pace.

“You know what I want now? I want ya to cum on my cock. My big cock ruining your ass.”

You shook your head. No way you’d give him that. But he slid his hand down to your pussy, pushing you away from the trunk a little. He lingered on your clit, before burying two fingers in your pussy.

“Still dripping.. such a good slut for me.”

He applied the same rhythm to his cock and his fingers. You bit your lip, trying not to give him what he wanted. He felt your holes contracting, his fingers still in your pussy. 

“No… stop it.”

You felt the gun press to your temple again.

“Gimme what I want. I want you to squeeze my cock while you cum.”

You felt your body react to his fingers. The wave was coming. You tried to stop it, but to no avail. Your breathing quickened.

"Oh, yeah. You're gonna be a good girl for me, I can feel it. Fuck, you’re really gonna cum for a man you don’t know, a man who’s assaulting you. What kinda whore does that?”

He kept sliding his thumb over your clit, two fingers in your pussy, his cock in your ass. Your core tightened as you came with a long moan, not being able to hold back any longer. 

“Oh fuck yeah! Squeezing my cock and my fingers. What a slut! Oh fuck!”

The waves of climax shook your body time and time again. you shut your eyes tight feeling your holes clamping around his cock and fingers.

“Fuckin hell, little thing, it’s so tight. Nah, wanna see your face.” He pulled his cock out of your asshole and his fingers left your stretched pussy. He rushed to untie your hands, his cock throbbing and smearing his precum and your juices on your back. 

He roughly turned you around and being absolutely spent you plopped on your knees. The man didn’t mind. His hand grabbed your hair and he held your head up, his glistening tip being just a few inches from your face. 

“Gonna paint your face now. Open wide.” You parted your lips and closed your eyes but he slapped your cheek again. 

“Eyes on the prize, slut!”

You followed his command and looked at his big veiny hand pumping his cock vigorously. It was drenched with your combined fluids and the sounds of squelching and his heavy breathing filled the air around you. He moaned and started coming, shooting thick ropes of cum on your face. You felt them on your cheeks, nose, tongue and lips. In your mind you thanked him for not coming into your eyes. 

He milked the last drop out of his cock and then looked down at you with half lidded eyes. The lips twitched up with a small smile as he observed his work.  

“Oh, look at ya, all filthy, my little slut,” he cooed at you mockingly. “Show me.” He took your chin with his fingers and lifted it up. You opened your mouth wider showing his cum glistening on your tongue. He huffed with a proud look. “Such a good whore for me. Now let’s clean you up.” 

Still holding your face by the chin, he began collecting his spend with his finger and wiping it on your tongue. You felt his salty cum slide down and into your throat. Your eyes teared up but he didn’t let you close your mouth until your face was clean. 

“Swallow,” he said calmly as his hand left your chin. 

Your throat contracted, downing all of his cum and you licked your lips. Then you opened your mouth again, stuck out your tongue, showing him the result and looking up with a teary and adoring gaze. His hand cupped your cheek and he stroked it with his thumb. 

“Thank you, Joel,” you said quietly and he gave you a soft smile. He helped you up and held you close against him, rubbing your body and warming it up. 

“Thought you were gonna use the safe word this time. I got carried away,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m a tough girl,” you whispered, tilting your head up to look at him. He kissed you, gently and lovingly, as your body and soul found comfort in his embrace.

*********

@iamasaddie @multiversed-daydreamer

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Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

***********

Other fics that Kate and I have written together:

The burglary - Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

Bad girl - Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dubcon

The hounds of hell - Javi x f!reader x Steve - dubcon

[purplesoulcollection]

Hello, I really like your fanfic about Suho😊🤩😘. I imagine Suho accidentally catching Reader, who is free falling in the air. They don't remember anything about their past. Suho will have to learn how to take care of someone who doesn't even have an ID and there is no missing person news or missing case. The police are also stumped by Reader's case.

Hello, anonym, I tried my very best to fulfill your request. Hope you enjoyed it.

Fallen Angel?!

Aargh--

There was a faint sound that seemed to come from nowhere.

It was the kind of sound that was easy to overlook, too indistinct to pinpoint, so most people simply ignored it because they think it's just an illusion

But Suho caught it—the echo of a scream that felt distant and unstable But he can't pinpoint where did that sound come from the sound echoed faintly in his ears.

Beru, who was with him, also noticed it, his senses heightened at the thought of an impending confrontation.

Suho scanned his surroundings, finding nothing unusual, until he finally glanced up at the sky. That’s when he saw her—a woman plummeting from above, with no tall buildings around to indicate where she might have fallen from.

There was no time to being surprised and ponder how she ended up there; if Suho didn’t act fast, she would hit the ground hard, with no way to soften her fall.

Suho didn't hesitate for a moment as he dashed to save the woman, who was plummeting faster due to the pull of gravity. In his panic, he completely forgot about the Monarch's authority and his own abilities.

With a loud thud, Suho managed to catch her, his body jolting from the sudden weight and force of the fall. Thankfully, he held on tight, letting out a sigh of relief as he realized he hadn’t let her slip away.

If my reflexes hadn’t been quick, I wouldn’t have been able to catch her at all.

Gently, Suho placed the woman on the ground. She was unconscious now, despite having screamed just moments before. Perhaps the shock of her near-death experience had taken its toll.

I was left with a burning curiosity about what had happened to her without nobody I can asked. I can I can rub my hair in annoyance, don't know what to do with this sudden incident.

I analyze the girl appearance further. The beautiful woman had long hair and wore a simple shirt and pants, showing no visible injuries. At first glance, she appeared perfectly normal, but Suho sensed something was off.

He realized that something wasn’t right. With no tall buildings around, there were only two explanations: she had either flown through the sky or had been dropped from above.

"Young master, I believe that she part of itarim, an ordinary human being cannot possibly fall from the sky without knowing where she fell from." Beru wisely tried to persuade Suho that the woman was dangerous and should be killed immediately before causing trouble to his young master.

Suho pondered the possibility that what Beru was said might actually be true.

Beru had a point; ordinary humans typically wouldn’t encounter bizarre occurrences like this, even in a world where dungeons could appear unpredictably.

For an average person lacking special abilities, the worst fate would be to get pulled into a dungeon and perish without a chance to escape. However, falling from the sky certainly indicated that this woman was mixed up in something questionable.

He realized why Beru suggest to kill this woman; there was a desire to protect him from any potential danger, as his responsibility was to accompany and safeguard him on his father's orders, who was far away fighting.

Yet, Suho couldn’t bring himself to do what Beru say, His human sense does not allow that, harm an innocent person who had fainted from shock simply because he suspected she might be connected to Itarim is unacceptable.

He was resolved to grow stronger so he could reunite with his parents, but he also didn’t want to resort to senseless violence against those who were uninvolved.

"No Beru, I won't kill her just because your suspicions. We have to bring her to the hospital to check her condition. Even though he doesn't have any wounds, it's possible the wounds are internal."

He picked her up again in princess style and ignored Beru's protests until he circled around Suho.

Even if she was really part of the itarim, he should at least save this woman's life for interrogation.

It seemed to validate Beru's concerns. The woman's identity remained unverified.

She lacked any personal identification in Korea's advanced system, and there were no missing person reports that matched her description from the internet.

This left Suho feeling overwhelmed; he even reached out to his uncle Yoo Jinho for assistance in allowing the woman to receive treatment without needing to establish her identity.

The risk was significant if it became known that the woman had no identity here. Suho and her could face arrest and deportation without any warning. Indeed, if someone have a connection with powerful people, it can make things easier for the shady things too.

Now, all Suho and Beru could do was wait for the woman to wake up to answer their questions whether she like it or not.

The doctor said that she's fine, but he have to analyze more deeply once she wakes up to see any illness that only appear once she awakes.

Suho was restless, tapping his feet in a display of impatience, while Beru shot disapproving glances at the woman. He was uneasy about leaving potential threats unaddressed, but the young master had made his choice, and all he could do was comply.

As time passed, Suho's anxiety grew when the woman remained unresponsive, despite the doctor assuring them she was fine.

Could he really leave her alone in the hospital? Should he head home and just hope she wouldn’t wake up before he returned?

Perhaps fate was on his side, nudging her back from the depths of unconsciousness.

Both Suho and Beru noticed the woman stirring when her finger twitched, prompting them to ring for the doctor.

The doctor arrived promptly, conducting a thorough examination that included checking her eyes, asking questions, and performing responsiveness tests—leaving Suho and Beru puzzled by the process.

After completing the tests, the doctor approached Suho with a concerned look. "Mr. Suho, we believe the woman you brought in may be suffering from amnesia. She seems unable to recall any events from her life." Suho felt a jolt of shock at the doctor's revelation.

Amnesia?! A mysterious condition that could conveniently obscure someone's past identity. He never imagined he would find himself in such a predicament.

The doctor departed after advising Suho not to pressure the woman into remembering anything and to allow her to remain calm. Suho merely nodded, his attention fixed on the woman, who appeared lost in thought, nobody knows what in her mind.

"Do you even know your name atleast?" Suho's voice emerged slowly, momentarily shattering the silence. The woman, who had been lost in thought, finally turned her gaze toward him for the first time.

Her eyes, filled with confusion, reflected her struggle to process the question Suho had just posed, though she remained silent.

Impatiently, Suho drummed his fingers, eager for a response, but ultimately, she shook her head, signaling her lack of knowledge.

Watching her confused expression and the way she shook her head left Suho feeling uneasy and drained. He took a deep breath, knowing that the challenges ahead would be tough.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave this woman, whose identity remained a mystery. The chance that she could be an adversary loomed large. It was up to Suho to keep a watchful eye on her.

"Do you want me to pick a temporary name for you, or would you like to choose one yourself until you can recall something from your past?"

He didn't want to call her this woman all the time, at least if this woman remembered her name, it would make his life a little easier.

Instead of answering, the woman just stared at me, looking puzzled as if she thought I was joking. "Don't you recognize me? Aren't you the one who brought me here?"

"I only brought you here because I found you unconscious. I don’t know you at all."

"Then why not choose a name for me? I'm not sure if the name I come up with will suit me."

"You may have lost your memory, but you still remember that you might not pick a good name?"

"It's just a gut feeling…" The woman turned her gaze away, embarrassed by her struggle to think of a suitable name for herself.

Suho pondered over a fitting name for her. She was a woman with an unknown age and identity, and he didn’t know her well enough to determine if she was part of itarim or not.

However, as an art student, Suho understood that a name plays a significant role in shaping a person's identity, so he took the time to think of a beautiful and appropriate name for her.

"...Name, do you like that name?"

She looks surprised with that name. Her eyes widened and her breath caught, as if I had struck a chord. I noticed the person flinch, scratching at the smooth skin marred by a wound. A nervous sound escaped her lips, leaving me uncertain if I had truly guessed her name.

"I like it. Name, huh?" Those were her first words since waking, her voice raspy from sleep. Perhaps that was why she had been silent at first. I offered her some water and reassured her that I would look after her.

"Suho, help me!" A cry that has echoed in my mind countless times since I chose to care for someone who lost her memory.

Whenever I see her in distress, she ends up shattering something I just cleaned. Perhaps she meant to lend a hand, but it always results in an accident.

This same person, whom I decided to look after, has indeed brought chaos into my life, just as I had anticipated.

I can't tell if she was always this way before her memory loss, but it seems she is quite careless. I have no idea what her life was like before we crossed paths.

When I first welcomed her into my home, her actions turned my home upside down, testing my patience to the limit. It's hard to believe that someone so beautiful struggles to take care of herself.

Honestly, I've grown accustomed to tidying up my own space because the harsh teaching from my parents, unlike my friends, who can be just as messy as she is, but of course less careless as her antics. So when i see her mess, i became more sensitive to it.

I could only tell her to leave the rest to me, and she ran away quickly avoiding my babbling which I was already tired of doing. It's faster if I do it without talking.

I've actually reached the stage where I doubt that she's part of Itarim because she's so careless and she doesn't show any suspicious signs. Maybe she only the ordinary people who was caught in a certain situation that caused her to fall from the sky.

I want to believe from my bottom heart that she's not the worst, that I should fight with. I only hoping that Name is a good person so that we can have good relationship and maybe become closer…

Because even when I mad at her antics to destroy my home, she still accompany me like now, she think she hide herself but i can still see her, peeping with guilty face. I don't feel lonely in this wide home again when my parents being missing and leaving me alone.

Even Beru can't understand this lonely. Because he'll left me once my father call him, to nowhere I don't know.

"Name, do you want to go outside?"

Nama's expression, which had been filled with guilt, instantly transformed into one of joy. Her eyes widened in surprise as he realized I was speaking to him.

"Can I go outside?" she asked, moving closer to me, his excitement palpable after being cooped up for so long since his hospital release.

I nodded; Nama wasn’t a prisoner who needed to be confined all the time. She just had to be cautious about not being discovered without an identity in this world.

"Come with me. I'll take you for a stroll," I said, and his face lit up with a smile.

"That sounds perfect! You have to take me somewhere nice, Suho," she exclaimed joyfully before heading to his room to change into the clothes I had ordered for her online.

Soon, we made our way to the mall and eventually strolled through a park that wasn’t too crowded. Seeing several small children playing together and adults also walking around like us created an indescribably peaceful scene.

I’m really eager to paint this scene, but sadly, I forgot to bring my supplies.

"This is for you," the name rings a bell. I glanced at Nama, puzzled, until I noticed what she was offering.

A drawing book and a pencil. Where did she bring those?

"Suho wanted to draw it, right? Your hands always seem to move when you want to create something. Plus, you’re always painting, so I thought you might need this," she explained to me and i take it.

"But you didn’t bring any paint?" My question made Nama hesitate as she rummaged through her bag, which I assumed held my drawing book earlier.

With a hint of sadness, she looked at me and asked, "Do you need some? You usually just use a pencil, don’t you?"

Seeing her worried expression made me laugh; she really thought I was in trouble. "Just kidding! A pencil is all I need." I waved my pencil dramatically before focusing on capturing the scene.

My pencil danced across the page, creating a sketch until I finally completed it.

"Is it not done yet?" Nama asked, eyeing the unfinished sketch.

"I’ve just made a rough draft; I’ll polish it up at home. If I finish it here, I might not get it done tonight…"

As we walked home, I still had my doubts about Nama’s true identity. I want to believe that her name isn’t tied to Itarim and that I can genuinely like her, but that’s depends in the future that will happen.

For now, i will try to enjoy this company...

The End

Do you like it, whoever request this fic?

[just-jordie-things]

i walk the line - choso kamo

word count: 2k warnings: minor(?) shibuya spoilers, choso has a panic attack, mentions of blood/fighting, didn't feel like specifying what (y/n) is doing in mahito's gang lmfao summary: a familiar face finds choso after his fight with itadori and talks him down from a panic attack. the pair realize together that they want to fight for a new cause. ___

How can this be happening? This can’t be real.  He couldn’t have been real.

His hands are shaking, his muscles are losing all feeling, his entire reality is crumbling around him, and from where he stands in the lower levels of the Shibuya train station, it certainly looks like it is too.

Another brother? And so young? 

He’s sinking to the ground before he registers his knees have even gone weak.  The floor is still wet from his fight with Itadori, but ruining his robes is the last thing on his mind.

He hurt him.  He hurt Itadori.  He hurt his little brother.

It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t known that Itadori was family, of course if he had, none of this could have ever happened.  All of this fighting, suddenly rendered pointless, suddenly deeply unjust.  It was all making his head spin, and his vision blur.

This can’t be happening.

He squeezes his eyes shut and clamps his hands over his ears, trying to drown out all the external forces trying to crowd his sensations.  The flow of water on the cracked tiles below him, the distant hollers and screams echoing along the corridors, and the sudden loud stomping of heavy boots through water and rubble.  

When a more familiar voice travels closer at rapid speed, likely carried by the racing stomping, it cuts through the overstimulating echoes bouncing off the tunnel’s brick walls.

“Choso!” Even with the palms of his hands muffling all sound, he can make out that the voice is hollering his name.  

At first he presses his hands against the sides of his head harder, worried he couldn’t trust what reality was anymore.  He’s digging his calloused palms hard into his ears as airtight as possible.  But as much as he wants to turn off all of his senses, he can feel footsteps crashing against the ground and coming towards him.

And then they come to a halt.  He feels some splashes of water soaking through the pant leg at his ankle, but it’s still not enough to make him look up.

“Choso,” He hears his name again, followed by small hands wrapping around his wrists.  

The touch makes him flinch, but he doesn’t immediately pull away.  Heye opened in a flurry of dark lashes and panic, finally letting himself believe she was really there.  She’s a little blurry in front of his teary eyes, but she’s undoubtedly there, crouched before him, wrapped in a trench coat too big for her, and a cap pulled over ears, keeping her usually wild hair tame.  She’s not an illusion, drawn up by his fragmenting mind.  He knows because those are her (y/e/c) eyes staring back at him, usually bright, but currently clouded with concern.  He knows because it was her voice murmuring a string of questions driven by her worry.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Can you walk? Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

(y/n) tries to speak slowly, but a part of her is anxious about not having much time to speak to him at all.  She shouldn’t be here, he told her not to come here, but here she was.

“Say something, please” She begs of him, her thumbs rubbing gentle circles over the bony edges of his wrists.  Finally, he begins to drop his hands from his ears.

“I- my brother-” He croaks out, and she nods as he tries his best to speak, reaffirming that she was trying to understand.  The breath he takes also draws in a groan, but it helps to get some oxygen in his lungs, and he speaks a little more clearly.  “I have a brother” 

(y/n) nods again, brows drawing together as she takes in the information.  It takes a great effort to keep her expression neutral as she processes, not wanting to do anything to trigger anymore panic from him.

“Like- like another one?” She asks, briefly glancing around her to make sure no one else was coming.

Truthfully, she’s terrified.  She may not have been present for what transpired in Shibuya, but she knew that those who had wreaked their havoc on the unsuspecting city couldn’t have gotten far just yet, and she wasn’t equipped like he was to handle monsters such as them.  She should be grabbing him and making him run, getting them both the hell out of there, and anywhere else.  She didn’t care if they had to camp out on the side of the road- if it was far from here, and he was with her, she’d go.  But despite every instinct screaming at her to get to fucking running she stays put, and gives him every ounce of her attention.

“I- I think so?” He gasps out, and his mouth opens and closes a few more times as he struggles to explain the odd feeling to her.  “I don’t- I don’t know how, it d-doesn’t make any sense, but- but I felt it, I know it” 

“Okay,” She nods along.  “Okay, you felt it, yeah? In your blood, you know it” 

“But he- how could he- how can that even be real?” He’s mumbling to himself, shaking his head as he tries to process it all to the best of his ability.  “Can’t be real, can’t be real, can’t be real” Over and over, until he’s trembling before her, and she mirrors his panic.

“Hey, hey, shh, listen to me,” She’s murmuring, letting go of his wrists to snatch at his hands, gripping them firmly, her thumbs pressing into the palms of his hands.  “It’s real, alright? It was real,” She assured him, meeting his eyes.  “You felt it” 

Tears pour down his cheeks.

“I hurt him,” He confesses.  “I hurt my brother,” 

(y/n) blinks at him, sadness flickering over her features as she begins to understand what his terror and panic was all about.  Then again, all at once, his eyes widen, he’s pulling his hands out of hers, and he’s grabbing her by the wrists as he hauls both of them upwards.  Despite the aftershock of a panic attack still crashing over him, Choso is forced to face reality.

And the reality was that she shouldn’t be here.

“You need to go,” He speaks so quickly his words slur together, and his eyes are darting around the abandoned station, trying to find the nearest and safest exit for her to retreat to.  “You shouldn’t be here, it’s still not safe… Mahito… Kenjaku… I don’t know where exactly, but they can’t be far”  

He continues to ramble on, but his words get sloppy and a bit inaudible.  (y/n) shakes her head at him when he tries to push her forward, trying to get her to an exit he deemed safe enough for her to take.

“Wait, stop,” She tries to calmly protest, but her voice falls on deaf ears, Choso’s already dragging her by the arms, even as her boots scrape against the ground in an attempt to slow them both down.  “Choso!” 

Planting both of her feet on the ground firmly, she stares up at him, her eyes wildly looking between his.  She tries to keep her expression calm, she doesn’t want to cause him more distress, but it takes raising her voice for her to get through him in this state.

Her fingers are trembling for an unknown reason as she secures her hands around his forearms.  They stand there in a bloodied puddle of water, both staring at each other with no plan and unanswered questions left between them.

Since their first meeting, (y/n) had felt inexplicably drawn to him.  Everything about him allured her, his demeanor, his voice, his way of thinking, his pretty face, his cursed technique, every part of him that he’d shown to her she found an interest in.

And maybe they hadn’t met for the right reasons.  Maybe what pushed them together were feelings of revenge so old and worn they’d gathered dust.  But what she does know is that since their meeting, she’d been questioning herself and the trajectory of her life more and more.

And right now, standing with him in an abandoned train station left in ruins from the aftermath of an attack she’d almost encouraged and almost taken part in, is that she was letting the wrong emotions push her through life.

Her hands tighten around him, eyes flickering between his as she tries to find the words to voice all of this to him quickly, before their time ran out and worse things fell upon them.

“Let’s just…” Her voice is quiet, and a bit strained, but she takes a deep breath before finishing, “Go” 

Choso blinks, and she feels his hands twitch against her wrists, momentarily squeezing too tight before loosening and holding onto her carefully again.

“Go?” He repeats, but it’s not a question on what she means.  It’s a question of if she truly means it.  It’s hopeful, vulnerable even.  His eyes don’t leave hers one as he awaits her confirmation.

She nods in a small, shaky movement, but she does it a few times, with absolute certainty.

“Yeah,” She breathes out.  “I… this isn’t what I want,” 

She looks away from him as she takes in the destroyed tunnel.  Not only had blood been spilt but walls and industrial beams had been brutalized, and the few inches of standing water did nothing to help it look less ruined.  Her heart sinks as she realizes this is only the beginning, this is only a small fraction of what was to come.

Her eyes find Choso’s again and she shuffles forward, water sloshing around her boots as she moves.

“But I want to be where you are,” She tells him, not a single crack in her voice.  “So wherever, whatever you want to do… I want to go with you” 

Finally, the panic in his eyes seems to settle.  His features relax, and then soften, and in turn (y/n) feels her shoulders release their tension, and a faint smile forms on her face.  Things were far from okay, but she had a feeling in her gut telling her that they would find a way to work in the right direction.

Choso releases her arms, only to cup her face in his hands and pull her in closer, ducking his own head to meet her height properly.

“You already can’t follow instructions when I tell you to stay put anyways,” He says, and he swears her eyes shimmer with an emotion unknown to him but so pretty he dares try to seek it out again.

As soon as his gaze shifts down to her lips, she’s beating him to the chase.  Her hands fly from his arms to his shoulders and her lips are on his before he can even ask her if it was alright to kiss her.  

For Choso, there’s a moment of pure panic that feels different from the last- this one is hot, and feels as though it could lift him right off the ground rather than throw him through it.  But just as quickly as he startled, he melted into her.  He dropped his hold to her hips, sliding his hands under the ridiculously oversized coat she wore to pull her close and kiss her deep.  Their time was still running out, but for this fleeting moment, he needed to be sure she understood exactly where he stood on her staying by his side.

The tips of her fingers are chilly and wet when they slide over the sides of his neck before they reluctantly pull away for air, but Choso’s never felt a touch so lovely and delicate.  She’s slow to open her eyes, slow to say or do anything, even her lips still parted, but he’s staring at her ardently.  There’s an intensity behind his eyes and buzzing in his touch that she longs to chase after.

“Well,” The word falls from her lips under her breath, not having caught it after their sudden kiss.  “What do we do next?” 

And Choso smiles then, slowly but surely, as an idea strikes his mind that is going to sound crazy, but he has a feeling she’s looking for a new direction, and what better place to start than family? 

“We find Itadori” ___

a/n: first choso fic !! <3 bout damn time!!

xoxo ~ jordie

[elizabethemerald]

Son of the Red Hood: Reunions and First Meetings

Master Post

Jason was once again at the end of his rope. He had this wonderful, amazing kid in his life who could fly and float through walls, and influence his Pit Rage, and smiled like the sun, and all in all was still a kid. And sometimes kids threw fits. 

He had taken Danny to an abandoned and fenced off lot so the kid could get some practice with his powers where no one would see them. He hadn’t wanted Danny’s toys to be forgotten or dirtied in the lot, so he had made sure to leave behind his stuffed animals. Something Danny had taken incredible offense to. 

Of course the tyke hadn’t realized until they were in the abandoned lot, blocks away from Jason’s apartment that his toys had been left behind. And he was now bawling his eyes out, screaming at the top of his lungs for his toys. He was once again starkly reminded that Danny was a meta and many of his powers were tied to his emotions. Jason could only feel sympathy for what the Kents had to deal with when they were raising Clark. They even had to deal with a super powered toddler’s terrible twos. 

“I want my Jazztronaut! I want my Wonder Bear!” Danny screamed. 

Each scream rattled the walls around them and set off distant car alarms. Jason had brought his Red Hood gear so that if anyone saw them they wouldn’t recognize them and he was thankful he had as the sonic protections in the helmet activated and muffled his hearing. Though the fact that he could still hear his kid over the protections showed just how loud Danny could be. 

“I promise kiddo, we can go back and grab your bears! I’ll grab them as soon as I can, but you have to calm down.” Jason tried to reason, but one thing he knew from helping with the street kids in Crime Alley, sometimes a child just doesn’t want to be reasoned with. 

“I want Wonder Woman! I want Wonder Woman!” Danny shrieked even louder. 

Jason clamped his hands uselessly over the ear holes of his helmet as he staggered back. Holy shit this kid had a pair of pipes on him. If he didn’t have his helmet on he might be deaf now. 

“Danny, I’m sorry I forgot your bear.” Jason tried again, and Danny fell silent in surprise. He sniffed and his lip wobbled. What the hell was this kid’s life that someone apologizing to him got this kind of reaction? 

 “I’m sorry I yelled.” Danny whispered back, tears running down his face, though he was tense like he expected to be yelled at or worse. 

“Hey, it’s ok buddy.” Jason pulled his helmet off and he pulled the kid into his lap. “Sometimes your emotions can get too big for your body, I understand that. I really am sorry that I didn’t bring your bears. I’ll go get them soon, ok? But I can’t leave you alone to grab them.” 

“Perhaps I can be of some help?” 

Jason tensed as a woman’s voice sounded in the lot. He shifted Danny so he was protecting him with his body as a tall woman with black hair approached. She had greasy and sweat stained work out clothes, just like every other thug in the city, but she towered over him where he was sitting on the ground. He reached as subtly as he could for his gun, then paused as she stepped into the light. 

“Wait, Aunt Diana?” Jason asked, perplexed. 

“Hello, little Warrior.” Diana said with a small smile. Then she knelt down next to Danny. “And hello you too, little King.” 

Danny, his little devilish meta child, actually blushed at her attention. 

“I’m not a king yet.” He said softly. 

“I know. And yet I have followed your call for me and found you.” Diana said with all the gravitas she reserved for meeting foreign diplomats. 

“I thought I knew what was happening, but now I’m not so sure.” Jason said softly before he rose to his feet, lifting Danny onto his hip. 

“I’m not certain I can explain everything, but I can shed some light.” Diana said, standing as well, before addressing Danny. “Are you aware of someone by the name of Clockwork?” 

Danny’s eyes lit up and started glowing as he smiled. 

“Grandpa Clocky! He’s always tellin’ me boring things that I need to do and learn. But he keeps me safe and cares about me.” 

“Yes, well your grandfather has a few other grandchildren, one of which is me.” Diana held her hand out and shook Danny’s little, tiny hand. “Diana Prince. Some call me Wonder Woman.” 

Danny’s eyes glowed even brighter and he floated out of Jason’s arms. 

“So we’re like cousins! Or something!”

“Yes. Or something. And Clockwork sent me to find you, so you can be trained properly for when the crown is yours.” 

Jason genuinely couldn’t tell if Diana was being serious or if she was playing along, but either way he was grateful that she had appeared when she did and even more grateful that she seemed to be willing to help train Danny. 

“Thank you so much Aunt Diana.” Jason said with a smile. “Maybe you and I can talk about a training schedule together. In the meantime would you mind watching him while I go and grab the teddy bears that caused all this?”

“Of course. My cousin and I will get to know each other.” Diana said and gave Danny a warm smile. 

Jason pulled his grapple and left to return to his apartment, happy with the knowledge that Danny was safe with Diana. Though he had a lot of questions about why she had called him a king, and who the hell Clockwork was. 

.

Jazz had been on the move almost non stop ever since she had woken up yesterday. Her parents were dead. The portal in Amity was destroyed. Angela had said that Danny was killed by the blast too. But he wasn’t. She knew he wasn’t. She didn’t need the boo-merang to tell her that Danny was still out there somewhere. He was alive, and she would find him.

She had only stopped moving long enough to pass out in her car for a few hours during the drive to Gotham City. She was following a faint trail, a mere pressure in her mind that was leading her closer and closer to where her brother was. Whatever ecto contamination her parents had done to her over the years had given her a connection to her brother and she would follow that connection to the very jaws of hell itself if she had to.

She was running on fumes now. So was her car. She had made it into Gotham and the pull brought her to one of the poorer neighborhoods. In fact it looked like it was the poorest and most crime ridden part of the city. Graffiti covered every wall, and multiple burnt out wrecks of cars littered the sides of the streets.

Jazz slammed on the brakes and opened her car door. She was next to an abandoned and fenced off lot and her brother was here. She could feel him. She dashed tears and sweat from her eyes, slung her weapons over her shoulder and tied her hair back. When she left her car she left it with the door open and the key in the ignition. She doubted it would start again and she didn’t care enough, all she cared about was her brother.

She crouched next to the fence and leaped, putting her ectoplasmic strength into the jump as she easily cleared the twelve foot tall fence. She landed on the other side in another crouch, her eyes zeroing in on the woman standing in the middle of the lot.

The woman was easily as tall as Jazz and she was 6'8" thanks to the ectoplasm in her veins. The woman had long black hair and was built like an absolute tank. She was wearing work out clothes that showed off all of her muscles. If Jazz were in a better mental state she would be jealous.

But all she could focus on was the toddler just past the woman. The small, black haired, blue eyed boy that was her entire world. Danny. He was younger and smaller than he should be, but she would recognize him anywhere, and she had enough experience with ghostly shenanigans to recognize a simple deaging. She could deal with that later, now she just needed to recover her brother.

“Give him to me!” Jazz demanded as she stormed closer.

The beefy woman was between her and Danny, she couldn’t risk angering her, but all the words were trapped in her mind. All the deescalation techniques she learned, all the psychology she dedicated herself to, was all trapped and stuck. The woman turned to face her and Jazz pulled out her creep stick, her hands shaking.

“Give him to me.” She said again, the words feeling like nails dragging past her throat yet it was all she could say.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” The woman said. She kept her hands open and spread apart. Some small part of Jazz’s mind said that she was trying to keep her body language open and friendly. But that part was overshadowed by her fear and her exhaustion.

“Give him to me!” She shrieked, wondering if she should be coughing up blood with how difficult the words were to drag out. She dashed forward and swung her creepstick. The woman blocked the blow with her forearm, but Jazz swung again and again. Each blow the woman either blocked or dodged without any visible effort.

“You have skills sister.” The woman said and she went on the attack.

Now Jazz was getting driven back across the lot. She was clearly out matched in every possible way, but she couldn’t back down. That was her brother. That was her brother. That was her brother. Danny. Danny. Danny.

The woman twisted her body and with a powerful kick the creepstick was sent flying across the yard. Jazz didn’t give her a moment to gloat at disarming her and instead pushed forward with her bare fists and legs, using all her skill with martial arts, managing to push the other woman back one step at a time. Still she looked calm and confident as if she did this every single day.

Jazz ducked under one of the woman’s blows and managed to pull her knife. She thrust the blade forward with all her might, putting her full ectoplasm enhanced strength behind the blow. And watched in horror as the blade shattered against the woman’s shoulder.

“Well struck!” The woman seemed genuinely impressed. Then she twisted and almost without effort threw Jazz to the ground.

Jazz gasped in air as she stared up at her, then passed her to where her brother hovered in the air, watching like this was all an exciting movie.

“Please.” She forced the word out, like broken glass down her throat. “Give him to me.”

She begged. Desperately. The woman startled and pulled a long rope from under her sweats. With a flick of her wrist the cord wrapped around Jazz’s body.

“We’ll soon find the truth of this. Why do you want the boy?”

The cord glowed around her and even past her pain and her fear and her exhaustion the words came.

“He’s my brother.”

She gasped the words out.

“He’s my brother.”

Her throat was closing and her breath was coming faster and faster. Her own fist collided with her forehead.

“He’s my brother.”

She sobbed the words out, her vision fading as she hit herself again. A high pitched keening noise pulled itself out of her, no more words were coming, just her raw expression of grief and longing and she hit herself again. She smacked her fist into her forehead and when she went to do it again, she felt a tiny hand wrap around her wrist.

“No Jazz! No hurting. No hurting.”

Danny’s little voice. Just like when he was first a child and would help her when she melted down. When her parents ignored her desire not to be touched, when they made her speak even when the words hurt like gargling acid, when the noise of the lab wouldn’t stop and pounded into her head like a jack hammer. He was always there for her, ever since he had understood what she was doing and why. 

She didn’t try to pull her arm out of his hand but she hit herself again with her other hand. She could hear Danny begging her to stop, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t, she couldn’t. She went to hit herself again and a strong, calloused hand grabbed her wrist, then just as gently as if she were something precious and valuable held her other hand to keep her from hurting herself.

“Now, young one, there is no call for that.”

“Jazz it’s ok.” Danny whispered, because he knew the loud voices bothered her. Then he started humming, so softly she could barely feel it, yet his humming vibrated with ectoplasm and carried down all the way to her infant ghost core.

He was hugging her and holding her and humming to her and slowly, muscle by muscle her tension unwound. She could think again, she didn’t think she would be able to speak yet, but at the very least she could pull her wrists from the gentle hold of the other woman and wrap her arms around her little brother.

She held her brother, her Danny and sobbed and sobbed. She had gone through too much. She had been told she had lost her parents and that everyone she loved, including her beloved brother were dead, her home destroyed. Then she had driven half way across the country following a desperate thread to try and find him only to be beaten by the first stranger she encountered. But at the very least, she had her brother back in her arms again. Just like she was supposed to.

.

Diana watched the young woman cry, raw grief tearing its way through her. Jason had asked her to watch over the little King, and she would do so. She couldn’t hand the child over to the obviously distressed woman who had demanded him. She had defended herself, just like she would do during any of the spars with her sisters on Themyscira. 

However, she had misjudged her opponent. This woman was not fighting with the relaxed energy of a friendly spar. She was desperately fighting, just as she had desperately begged for the boy. Lord Clockwork had not mentioned that the little King would have any siblings, but perhaps it merely showed that the Lord of Time still needed to learn the importance of  mortal lives. 

Even without the magic of the Lasso of Truth, Diana could see the love Danny had for his sister. She could see the way he knew exactly how to stop her from harming herself. How the young woman, the King had called her Jazz, didn’t risk harming the child when he held her wrist, instead using her other hand. 

Now she could see the love, almost like a physical aura off the two young ones. She had found her charge, the young King she was to train, she had found him with an able caretaker, and she had found him in time to see the reunion between the King and his sister. Maybe she would have another to train and to teach, and the young King would have a valiant protector. 

She turned at the sound of a grapple and Jason landed next to her, two teddy bears in his hand. One was dressed as an astronaut and the other was wearing a cloth version of Diana’s own armor. He was staring at the woman who was sobbing and holding Danny as if he were the most precious thing in the world. 

“What the hell did I miss?” 

[maxfirstappen]

HAIRDRYER — J.P

- james potter x reader . fluff

this is my first time writing something. i’m really sorry if this is terrible. and i’m sorry if i wrote anything incorrectly, english isn’t my first language and i’m still learning. would love to hear your feedbacks, enjoy!! <3

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You’re excited. The new hairdryer you just bought came in the mail. Actually, James paid for it because your lovely boyfriend would rather die than stop spoiling you. His words, verbatim. After taking a nice shower, you plugged in the hairdryer, excited to test out if it really was as good as all the reviews claimed. You took one look at yourself in the mirror, hair damp and messy, and turned the hairdryer on.

It made a loud buzzing noise which only increased as you turned the setting to the highest. It blocked out any other noise from your ears. You snickered to yourself as you thought of how a robber would get away with breaking in right now as you couldn’t hear anything but the whizzing in your ear.

Well, someone did come in through the front door. Although fortunately it’s not a robber. Just your James. You couldn’t hear anything still.

“Angel, I’m home!” James smiled to himself, shrugging off his shoes carelessly as they scattered messily on the floor. He thought you might reprimand him for that. So he bent down and fixed them. He was just so eager to see his lovely girl after a long day of work. So imagine how dumbfounded he was when you didn’t immediately come rushing down the stairs like how you always would. You didn’t even answer him.

“M’love?” James tried again. His smile fell. Worries were bubbling in his guts. Were you home? Were you okay? Did he anger you this morning before he left for work? The poor boy was swimming in his own thoughts.

“Angel! Are you home?” James walked closer to the stairs. It was then that he heard the distant sound of buzzing. James’ mind immediately went to the worst places.

WAS THAT A CHAINSAW?

James scrambled up the stairs, almost comically, determined to find you. He rushed to the bathroom door, where the sound was coming from and barged in forcefully. You screamed in pure terror, thinking your fear of a robber breaking in really did come true, only to turn around and see your boyfriend looking fearful.

“Darling, are you okay?!” James’ voice was high and shaky as he looked around the bathroom to find any sign of intruders. You finally turned off your hairdryer to hear him better. James felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. It wasn’t a chainsaw. Of course it wasn’t. A Hairdryer.

“James, honey, what—“ You placed the hairdryer down in favor of his hand, squeezing it lightly.

James cut you off with an embarrassed groan as he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I thought you were in danger.” He mumbled.

“How so?” You cooed.

“You didn’t greet me back. Thought I heard a chainsaw.” His voice was barely audible. He was embarrassed. Poor baby.

“A what?” You couldn’t help the small chuckle coming out of you.

“Don’t laugh!” James whined and held you tighter. Your hand found the back of his neck, stroking the soft curls there.

“I’m not,” You said, clearly trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

James pulled his face away from your neck to see you clearly. He cupped your cheek so gently. “Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.” He murmured with a smile.

You leaned up to kiss him, he gladly accepted. He was relieved. He didn’t know what he would do if something were to happen to his other half. His fingers gently carded through your hair, feeling the slight dampness to it. You must’ve not finished drying your hair, he thought.

“Now turn around and let me continue drying your hair, sweet girl.” James smiled boyishly. You swooned.

He was awarded with another kiss for that.

[illumins]

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞—𝑙. 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘 (#⁰³)

✦trope: fluff, spidey-mark, spiderman

✧first pov

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭

It’s the kind of morning where the sunlight seems to perform, glittering through the leaves of the trees lining our school’s front walk like something alive. The bus, dented and smelling faintly of rubber and stale lunches, sits idling at the curb, and I am hyper-aware of my own heartbeat, the tap-tap-tapping against my ribcage as I shuffle in line to board.

I find a seat by the window, sticking my backpack onto the empty space beside me. I tell myself it’s to save the spot for Jenna, but she’s decided to sit up front, leaving me an island in a sea of noise. The other students buzz with the sort of aimless energy only a field trip can inspire. I watch them, trying to imagine how it would feel to be as light-hearted, their thoughts not tangled in a net of impossible hopes.

Mark climbs onto the bus last, his hair a tousled mess from the wind, a grin playing on his lips as he jokes with his friends. They’re talking about the new exhibit at the science museum, something about rare minerals, but all I can see is the way his shoulders ease back in laughter, the effortless orbit of his friends around him. He’s got this gravity, and I feel caught in it, helpless.

He doesn’t notice me, not yet. He’s recounting some anecdote that has them all leaning in, their expressions lit with shared amusement. I watch his hands as he speaks, animated and sure, the way I imagine Spider-Man’s might be when he’s scaling a skyscraper or swinging between the canyons of New York’s avenues. I try to picture telling him, confessing everything right there in the vibrating hull of the school bus. But the words knot in my throat, unspoken.

We arrive under a sky scrubbed clean by the wind, the museum rising before us like a monument to all things curious and unknown. Our teachers herd us toward the entrance, their voices raised over the clamor. I stay a few steps behind Mark, watching as he squints up at the banners flapping above the entrance, his profile sharp against the pale morning light.

Inside, the museum is a cavern of shadows and echoes, the air cool and tinged with the scent of metal and glass. We wander through the exhibits, the teachers giving us time to explore while they discuss logistics at the front desk. My friends cluster around a display of meteorites, their surfaces pocked and scarred like moons. I drift away, my sneakers silent on the polished floor.

I find him by the Foucault pendulum, standing so close to the barrier that his breath must be fogging the brass plaque explaining the physics of it all. His concentration is a tangible thing, and I watch the way his eyes track the slow, hypnotic swing of the pendulum.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” I say, my voice softer than I intend, barely threading through the hum of distant conversations and the distant echo of footsteps.

He turns, his smile quick and surprised, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to break his private communion with the exhibit. “Hey,” he says. “Yeah, it really is. Did you know—”

But I’m barely listening, too caught up in the way his hair curls just behind his ears, the earnestness of his gaze. I shuffle my feet, feeling suddenly clumsy, the words I’ve rehearsed slipping away like water through fingers.

“So, I was thinking,” I start, but my voice trembles and I have to start again. “I was wondering if—”

An explosion shatters the moment, the sound so loud it seems to consume the air. Screams slice through the museum as people start running, a stampede of fear. Mark’s hand shoots out, grabbing my arm, pulling me close. His body shields mine as the sound reverberates, the ground beneath us shivering with the violence of the blast.

“Are you okay?” he shouts over the noise, his eyes scanning the chaos, always looking for how he can help. I nod, words lost in the tumult.

We move together, his hand firm on my elbow, guiding me towards what I assume is safety. My heart is a wild thing inside my chest, not just from the blast, but from him, from the heat of his hand through the fabric of my shirt.

As we reach a quieter corner, his friends gathering around us, his face is inches from mine, his brow furrowed with concern. The chaos around us blurs into a backdrop as I’m suddenly, acutely aware of his closeness, the faint smell of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of fear.

“Seriously, are you all right?” His voice is steady, a contrast to the trembling of my own limbs.

I manage a nod, my throat tight. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks to you.” The words tumble out awkwardly, carried more by relief than by courage. The truth is, I want to say so much more, to rewind to the moment before the explosion, to the question I had been about to ask.

He smiles, a quick, reflexive thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he scans the area, still in protector mode. His gaze is everywhere, taking in exits, assessing threats, so unlike the carefree high school student he plays in the daylight of ordinary afternoons.

Mark turns back to me, his hand still gripping my arm lightly. “We should keep moving. It’s not safe here.”

As we walk, I can hear the sirens in the distance, the sound growing steadily louder. The museum staff are directing visitors toward emergency exits, their voices calm but urgent over handheld radios.

We reach a side exit, the cool air outside a slap after the stifling fear inside. Police cars and fire trucks are converging on the scene, their lights painting the world in harsh strokes of red and blue. Mark's friends cluster together, everyone speaking at once, trying to make sense of the chaos.

I stand slightly apart, the weight of my unasked question heavier than ever. Just as I gather the remnants of my scattered courage, ready to reach out and touch his arm, to pull him aside and finally speak my truth, he looks over, his expression shifting as he sees something beyond my shoulder.

“Stay here,” he says abruptly, and then he’s gone, melting into the crowd with a swiftness that speaks of more than just urgency—it speaks of necessity, of duty.

The others don’t notice his departure, not at first, caught up in their own relief and recounting of the event. I watch where he disappeared, the cold knot of disappointment settling in my stomach. Not because of the missed chance to confess, but because I know, with a sinking certainty, where he’s gone.

To change, to swing into action as someone else entirely. As Spider-Man.

I wrap my arms around myself, watching as the first responders begin to corral us further away from the building. The sound of distant thuds and muffled shouts suggests that the danger isn’t over, that whatever caused the explosion might still be unfolding inside.

And there, under the relentless sweep of emergency lights, I realize the truth isn’t just in the words I’d failed to say. It’s in this moment, in the pulse of fear and the clarity it brings. It’s in the understanding that my confession wouldn’t just be about a crush; it would be an acknowledgment of his double life, a step into his world of constant peril and masked identities.

As I watch, poised on the edge of something vast and terrifying, a new resolve forms. When this is over, when he comes back, I’ll be waiting. Not just to confess, but to stand by him. Maybe then, he’ll see me not just as a classmate, but as someone who knows the weight of his secrets and chooses to stay.

But for now, I wait, the sirens wailing a lament, the flashing lights casting shadows where I stand—alone but undeterred, ready for whatever comes next.

[lavishl0ve]

🩸 Johnny Slaughter x Fem Reader 🩸

!disclaimer!

I love Johnny and he low-key inspired me to write something. This is my first “fic” and is a decent length (lol), if y’all are interested in the full story please lmk!! (btw nothing spicy in this first part- sorry 😔) Thank and enjoy.💋💋

Part 1: The Cellar

Oh God, stay quiet… I silence my whimpers pushing my hand against my mouth as I watch the skinned face wearing man run around frantically. Each rev of his chainsaw had made me flinch. I slowly shift myself in the shadows hoping to avoid detection, the tall grass covering my view. The sky is painted with tones of tangerine complimented by flesh-colors. The longer time seems to pass the more I seem unable to move. I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut hoping to escape reality, the darkness only paints pictures in my head. Julie. Hanging on that meat hook in that red room. I suddenly feel a wetness dripping down my cheek. We didn't deserve any of this, especially not her and God knows where the others are. I just hope they're safe. The others. I have to do this for them, I have to escape. Adrenaline seems to rush through me, I peek my head above the grass searching around hoping for a clear shot. No sign of them. I slowly ascend and sneak towards what seems to be the closest exit. I dive back into a patch of grass as I hear the sound of the chainsaw approaching again. The sounds accompanied with female screams… Ana’s screams. My body makes its own decision and suddenly I flee from the grass patch running towards the gated fence, the sky darkening. Keep running Y/N. Just keep running. Tears blur my vision as the scream becomes distant for each pace I run. I shouldn't, I can't help doing so, only hoping to confirm reality. I look behind my shoulder, that man drilling the chainsaw through her abdomen, her blue tank top now red. Stained with her own blood. I run faster but can't help to look away. A loud snap erupts from beneath me; fire engulfs my right leg and I trip over. My ankle caught in some bone contraption it had cut deep, deep enough to see tissue. That man sensed the sound, revving up his stalled chainsaw, I look back panicking and quickening my pace to release myself. The pain is horrific. Blood drips into my shoes and I limp towards that gate. No. The faint symbol of a red padlock is tightened around the gate. I won't make it. I scream out in pain hoping for the slightest bit of hope. A deteriorating wooden barn. Maybe I can hide there. I shift my direction pulling my leg along with me as that man approaches. I ran through the large doors, the barn still in darkness. I looked behind again, that man hadn't been able to squeeze through the crawl space I shimmied through. I have distance. I’ll be okay. I face forward and crash into a hard surface. I fall back onto the floor and my vision blurs. Blood rushing to my brain, fumbling the noise around me, the chainsaw re-approaching and the laugh of a man in front of me, faint footsteps walk toward me, the orange hues of the sky paint out his features. My vision is blurry, I can only map out his sleeveless tank top, and his slicked hair…? He grips a knife in his right hand. He crouches down his arms wrapping around my waist. I groan out in pain. His hard chest instituted a throbbing headache, my head pounding. He leans forward toward my face.

“Oh, I’m keeping you.” The man growls.

Then with a effortless hurl he throws me over his shoulder. My sight goes foggy. I can’t lose consciousness now. Stay awake. With each step the man takes his shoulder digs deeper into my stomach. I can't seem to stay awake. No need to fight back anymore. This is my fate.

“S’okay, I got er’ boy.” The man says, “Put that chainsaw to use. Find the other one.”

A low moan had replied from the man with the chainsaw, like an agreement. Wait- the other one…? Leland! He’s still alive! I cry out, putting each ounce of strength into my punches trying to knock myself down from the man's shoulder.

“No need to fight me on this Darlin’. You’ll just make it harder for yourself.” He remarks.

I grunt still trying to fight back. I’ve done no damage to anything but myself. I feel my energy slip away along with my consciousness…

—------------------------------------------------------

I awaken to the cold beneath me, I sit on the wet concrete ground. My vision clears, I look above, my wrists had been tied to the wall. I pull against the rope hoping to loosen them. I feel my blood circulation cutting off, my hands are numbing. It’s too tight and I can't seem to make any wiggle room. I look around hoping for some sort of tool I can use. Nothing. The cell just contains a worn-out mattress. Just great. I crawl over on the mattress hoping it’ll bring me more comfort than the cold floor. It’s better…I guess. I sit in silence, my head against the stone wall for what feels like an eternity. I fumble with my shirt. My shirt- it’s different. Damn. That outfit I had on was my favorite. Now I’m stuck in this worn out oversized black shirt. Realization had hit me, they changed my clothes, had that man undressed me? Shivers ran through my veins; I disregard the thought. Suddenly a woman skips in front of my cell giggling whilst peeking through. I hadn’t heard her approach.

“Aww, you’se caught yourself an aw’fully purty one.” The woman remarked.

She dragged her razor blade along the iron bars making a scraping sound, hitting each bar. Laughing mockingly.

“Leave the girl alone Sissy.” The man approached.

The same man from earlier had stood next to the woman supposedly named Sissy. He jumbled his keys, standing in front of the lock for the cellar.

“Ain’tcha got things to do??” The man says sternly.

“You ain’t no fun Johnny.” She replies, clicking her tongue and walking away.

Johnny inserts the key into the lock, twisting it and sliding the cell door open. Then closes it behind him. I find myself backing against the corner, the cold shooting through my spine once my bottom contacts with the cold floor again. Johnny turns around, walks over toward the mattress and sits down, his arms resting on his knees. I sat a few inches away from him. Completely defenseless. He shifts his head toward the left a bit, enough only so he could see me. I stare down at the ground avoiding eye contact. He analyzes me for a while. Complete silence.

“You can look at me y’know?” He breaks the silence.

I feel tears dwelling in my eyes, “What do you want?”

“Ain’t no need to be cryin’ sweetheart, ‘m not gonna hurt ya’...” He trails off.

He removes some sort of compact tin from his jean pocket, following a roll of gauze...? He places them on the mattress and gestures to my leg where I’d been caught. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s motioning towards. I look down and realize my leg has been wrapped up. I gasp slightly, surprised he wouldn't have just let me rot. I scoot forward slowly allowing him to have access to my ankle, I watch slowly as he unwraps the bandage trying to see the damage that was done. I hiss once the cold air touches the wound.

“Those damn traps he be makin’,” he laughs shaking his head, “Work a lil’ too well.”

Johnny then grabs the tin container from his side, it contains some sort of topical cream. He rubs two fingers into the paste and rubs it over the wound.

“Ah-” I groan in pain. The topical stinging my cut.

“You’se all right sweetheart.” He reassures me.

I shut my eyes, furrowing my brows waiting for the stinging to be over. I can feel the gauze wrapping lightly around my ankle. For a man that had brought me and held me captive in their basement Johnny's surprisingly gentle. I can't tell why but, I find myself ease around him a bit.

“Johnny-” I speak,

He looks up at me inquisitive, like I said something wrong. He raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“...why are you helping me?”

He chuckles to himself; a piece of his hair drops in front of his face.

“Can’t have our food spoiled now, can we?” He looks up.

My eyes widen at his response, I try and jerk my leg away, but his grip stays firm, his calloused hands keeping me from backing away.

“I was jokin’.”

He finishes tying up the gauze and rises to his feet. He leaves, re-locking the cell door. And then again, I’m left in the cell waiting, thinking. I try to stand seeing where I am, yet can’t reach the front of the cell, my wrists beginning to burn from all the tugging on the rope. I stop, throwing myself on the rough mattress. My dreams ought to be better than this place, right?

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