#really and truly i think i need to be handcuffed to the bed when i am sick and/or hurt so i can be made to rest

[rocket-candy-heart]

Messed up my knee and then decided that the best way to deal with that was to assemble a bed frame

[noxturnalnymph]

Devotion 🖤 III. Path to the Future (Ch 11)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE PREVIOUS

III. Path to the Future

CH 11 (7.3k) Slowly opening your eyes, you see warm sunlight pouring in through the high windows in a familiar room, although a room you didn’t expect to see ever again. You blink a few times, already knowing you’re in the same clinic room you woke up in last fall. Your mind does a few somersaults, trying to recall where you’ve been and how you could be here again. It doesn’t take long for you to figure it out.

You sit up slightly and the first thing you see is Joel, sitting in his old chair at the foot of your bed, watching you. You see him break eye contact and look at your head, so you reach your hand towards your head but a clamping sensation on your wrist stops your hand’s upward movement. You throw the blanket off your arm and see that your right arm is handcuffed to the bedrail. The transition to being Joel’s prisoner is complete.

“Really?” you huff.

You look back at Joel and he gives you a shy smile, looking almost repentant. Almost.

You suppose if you’re being truly honest with yourself, you didn’t think he would actually let you go, even though you practically begged him to. He’d told you more than once that he wouldn’t let you get away and seeing as how he’d marched across the state to catch up to you after you left the farm, going back empty-handed probably wasn’t on his agenda. You knew this, but it didn’t make you any less annoyed to find yourself shackled to your hospital bed under his watchful eye. 

“Is this the part where you take a sledgehammer to my legs?” you ask, straight-faced.

The doctor walks in just then and gives you a surprised look, then smiles.

“Glad to see you woke up so quickly,” she says as she takes out a flashlight and checks your eyes. “Joel said you hit your head pretty hard.”

You grab her with your uncuffed hand, she jumps slightly.

“You have to help me,” you plead. She looks towards Joel and you squeeze her arm to draw her attention back to you. “Joel is the one who hit me on the head, you have to help me get out of here, you have to get Tess. Please get Tess.”

“Stop that, now,” Joel hums, then turns to the doc and whispers. “See, doc? She hit her head and she’s just been sayin’ all sorts ‘a crazy stuff. I’m just worried about her safety.”

Shit. While you were unconscious Joel apparently got in front of the situation and already laid the groundwork for his gaslighting, spinning a tale about the wound on your head and justifying the need to handcuff you to the bed. He thinks he can win this game? Maybe he thinks that because you haven’t even been playing it, you’ve been blacked out from a head wound he gave you. 

"You are such a fuckin-” you sneer at him.

“See what I mean? She’s been so mean, not like herself at all,” Joel continues in response.

“I’ll show you how mean I can get, Joel… Uncuff me from this bed.”

“We don’t want a repeat of last time, now do we?” Joel says to the doctor, then turns to you.

Oh, now you get it. You’d threatened these people with scissors all those months ago - when you woke up in an unknown place - and Joel is playing on that fear they apparently still have of you. He’s playing like you’ve lost your mind, like you’d be a danger to all of them if they don’t listen to him. Oh, he’s good. He’s downright diabolical.

“Joel,” you huff. “Don’t fuckin’ do that shit. I know exactly who is the threat here and it’s not me.” The doctor begins to slowly back out of the room, the growing tension making her visibly uncomfortable. You turn to her, pointing your finger at her face and screech, “You have to get Tess!” 

The doctor keeps moving slowly towards the door, not giving much merit to your shrill ramblings. You move your outstretched finger back and forth between Joel and the doctor, muttering curses under your breath and trying to figure out how the fuck to get out of this. You sound kind of crazy now, thanks to Joel for pushing your buttons. You wish this was easier, that he was dumb like those kids at the summer camp, but unfortunately you’re dealing with someone who knows all your tricks, who can see through your deceptions. Maybe he had a point when he said you two were alike. 

You’re going to have to play to the doctor, to get her to help you despite Joel’s planted lies. Convinced there’s few alternative options, you decide to try and fake a medical episode. You’ve had a knock on the head, it’s completely within the realm of possibility. You throw your body backwards on the bed and begin to convulse, shaking your limbs and rolling your eyes back in your head. You clench your hands and teeth, trying to mimic a seizure as best you can. 

It works. The doctor is back at your side immediately, calling for help down the hall, lifting your eyelids to shine a flashlight back in your eyes, yelling for Joel to hold your legs.

“That’s not real,” Joel calmly says.

The doc continues to shout orders at two nurses now in the room, one of them shoving something in your mouth to bite down on and the other holding your legs. The doctor is yelling at Joel, who continues to stand back in silence and refuses to help. You decide to up the ante and stop holding the full bladder that probably woke you up in the first place, letting yourself pee the bed while continuing to shudder and shake.

“Oh Fuck,” one of the nurses says.

“She’s faking it,” Joel says from behind them.

“That’s not fake piss,” the other nurse says.

“Go get Tess,” you hear the Doctor whisper to one of them.

---

You hear Tess’ voice in the hallway, and her steps pause just near the doorway of your room.

“What happened? Is she okay?” you hear her ask.

“She’s fuckin’ fine,” Joel mutters.

“The doc said-”

“She’s fakin’ it,” he hisses.

You can’t even stop the giggle that escapes your lips, as you lie there, having pretended to be unconscious after your incident.

“I thought you said you guys worked your shit out,” Tess says to Joel.

“Well he’s a fucking liar,” you answer, sitting up in bed and yanking your wrist up to clank the metal handcuffs on the metal bedrail.

She looks back at you and then back to Joel. You can’t see her face but he shrugs and looks away from whatever look she’s giving him.

“It’s a work in progress,” he growls.

She asks him for the handcuff key and when he gives it she comes over to the bed and unlocks your wrist from the restraint. She looks you over, touching what you now know is a bandage on your head from whatever Joel hit you with, and sees that besides being covered in your own piss you’re otherwise unharmed. 

“Can you give us a minute?” she says, facing you.

“I don’t think she should get up,” Joel answers.

“I was talking to you, Joel,” Tess says, turning to look at him. “I’m asking you to leave the room so we can have a conversation without you in here.”

A long pause goes by while her words work their way past his thick skull.

“Yeah, okay…” he trails off, looking dejected as he shuffles out of the room.

She turns back to you.

“You gave us all quite the scare there, ya know?”

“I’d had enough,” you shrug. “I couldn’t be near him anymore.”

“But you weren’t near him, I sent you pretty far away.”

“And yet, he still had a way of gettin’ under my skin… Also, and I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I had shit go missing and it just seemed like-'' Tess' face twists at your words and stops you mid-sentence. Realization washes over you. “Oh… so not crazy then.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching out to touch your hand. “When I found out I made him stop.”

“I think you need a shorter leash on your dog, Tess.”

“What do you want me to do? Do you want to leave again? I’ll help you.” She asks earnestly.

“You think he’d let me?” You both exchange a look that says you both know the answer is no. “Then what am I supposed to do? What do you think I should do?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, we can do whatever you want to do.”

“It matters to me what you think, Tess.”

“I- I know it seems like this is a deeply toxic relationship. But I think you’re both at war with each other, firing everything you’ve got over the walls you’ve both put up. I think - and you can tell me to fuck off - but I think that if you both put down your weapons and let each other past the armor, that you’d actually be really fucking good for each other.”

A long pause stretches between the two of you and then you scoff.

“Fuck off, Tess.”

“You don’t think so?” 

“You’re just saying what he wants you to, obviously,” you snide, even if you don’t really believe it.

“So none of your feelings for him were real?”

“How could they be? That wasn’t who he really is.”

“Sure it was. That was part of him. And this- this is also part of him.”

“Yeah, a fucking asshole,” you spit.

“So now you have the whole picture, right?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

“So you definitely don’t feel anything for him now.”

You open your mouth to immediately answer but your stupid fucking brain reminds you of the way you felt when he told you that he loved you and you choke on your words. Fuck. He said he loved you. He said that Bianca’s baby wasn’t his. He said you were all he wanted. You hated him. You hated the way his words made your flesh shiver, made your insides flip. You hate the effect he had on you, the way he’s making you doubt yourself now. 

You turn your head to hide the tears that have come to your eyes unbidden and spill down your cheek. Tess sees it, your whole reaction is so fucking obvious, but she’s gracious enough not to say anything. She squeezes the hand she’s been holding.

“Maybe just give it a little time. Then we can figure out what to do, okay?” she says.

---

After your little stunt the doctor insisted on observing you overnight and you didn’t have the heart to reveal your lie to her, so you stayed in the musty old hospital bed with Joel sleeping sitting-up in the chair that he moved in front of the doorway. The next afternoon Joel walks you from the clinic back to the house - his house - as if you don’t remember how to get there. Obviously he just doesn’t want to let you out of his sight. The first time he sent Tess to bring you there but he apparently doesn’t even trust her anymore. 

You see people watching you walk together, tending to their yards and pretending not to stare. It hasn’t been a week since you walked down the gravel drive of the farm but people have obviously heard about your little disappearing act. When you get to the porch you see a box filled with your clothes and trinkets you left behind at the farm sitting outside the door. When you step inside the house is eerily still, Joel’s footsteps coming in behind you loud in the unusual quiet. He comes up beside you, the box in his arms, and nods his head up the stairs.

“Where do you want your stuff?” he asks.

Your brows knit. What does that mean? “Which room is free?”

“You can have any room you want.”

You take a moment and then point to the door at the top of the stairs to the right.

“My room?” he asks.

“My room,” you answer.

You don’t actually expect him to give you his room, you were just fucking with him, but he walks up the stairs and brings the box into his room as you follow on his heels. He sets the box down on a chair and you watch in silence with a curious expression as he grabs his clothes out of the closet and lays them down on the bed. He goes to the dresser and grabs more clothes, placing them on top of the others and then gathering them in the blanket that was atop the bed like a fuzzy parcel. 

“There’s another blanket in the closet for ya,” he says as he heads out of the room.

You follow him to the doorway but don’t leave the room, watching him turn and bring his armful of shit into Tess’ room. That’s gonna be a shock for her when she gets home, you think to yourself. Shit, maybe fucking with Joel isn’t a good idea if it’s gonna screw over Tess, the only person who seems to be in your corner. He comes back out of the room and your eyes meet in the hallway. You jump back and slam the door closed, locking the handle. You’re not sure what his limits for being messed with are going to be and the bump on your head reminds you of his not-so-gentle nature. Probably for the best to keep away from him for a while.

---

A light knock on the door wakes you from your afternoon nap, the room now cast in a dim evening glow. You sit up in Joel’s bed and look towards the door - still shut and locked.

“Dinner’s ready,” he says through the wood, then you hear his footsteps retreat down the stairs.

You didn’t mean to stay asleep so long. How did you not wake up while dinner was being made? You unlock the door and head downstairs, the creaking stairs under your bare feet echoing off the walls. You turn into the dining room and see the long table empty, save for a plate of food set in front of each chair at the head and foot of the table. What the hell?

“Where is everyone?” you ask.

“Just us,” he says.

You eat dinner in silence, the silverware scraping the plates is the only sounds outside your own jaw chewing the food. He takes your plate when you’re done eating and washes the dishes alone in the kitchen. This is creeping you out, the quiet, the calm. What is he doing? Where is everyone? You think he must be waiting for you to let your guard down so he can pounce, so while his back is turned to the dining room you tiptoe out of the room and run up the stairs, diving in his room and locking the door behind you.

It occurs to you that he probably has a key for his own room so you grab the chair from the corner and place it in front of the door, wedging it under the handle. You used to see this in movies and never thought it would work but you remember Tess doing it the night he bit you, so you think maybe there’s some truth to it after all. You hear him walk past the door a while later and a closing door echoes from down the hall. 

He’s just there, on the other side of the wall, in Tess’ room. You wonder if he put something outside this room, maybe hung bells on the door, so he can hear if you try to escape. God, you think he’d probably put a leash on you if he had one. Shit, does he have one? You look over to the doorknob again, double-checking it’s still locked. You think you’re safe. At least for tonight. 

You’re suddenly regretting trying to fuck with him, maybe it’s best you just act pleasant, maybe he’ll treat you best if you go along with whatever the fuck this is. Maybe you’ll check with Tess tomorrow at breakfast and see about switching rooms. You don’t actually want his room, the room he most definitely has a key to. You’d rather share Tess’ room with her, and be safely locked away from him with someone. Just one night alone and then tomorrow you’ll fix it.

---

You’re awoken by a loud knocking, and it sounds like it’s coming from downstairs. You wait to see if anyone else is going to answer it but when there are repeated knocks you get out of bed and move the chair blocking the bedroom door. When you make it downstairs and throw the large front door open you see Tess standing on the porch.

“What, did you forget your key?” you laugh. 

This is a joke, because there is no key. The front door is never locked. You were told your first week here that everyone within this town could be trusted so no one bothered to lock their doors anymore. It gave you a warm fuzzy feeling inside and made you feel like after nearly a decade of fear, maybe you were somewhere that you could feel safe. Even after being harassed and kidnapped by Joel, you suppose that this is somewhere you still feel safe.

Tess gives you a strange look, but smiles.

“Is Joel around?” she asks.

“I dunno,” you shrug.

“Well when did you see him last?” she looks past you, around the house.

“At dinner, then he went into your room for the night. He wasn’t there when you woke up?” Your brows knit to match the confused expression on her face. “Oh, you didn’t come home last night?”

“What do you mean my room?”

“He didn’t tell you?” You blush a little and bite your cheek to keep from smirking. Don’t be an asshole, it’s not funny to fuck with your captor. “I took his room so he moved into your room. But it’s just temporary, I don’t want you to be put out, it was just a joke-”

“That- that’s not my room anymore though,” she says slowly and then repeats your words. “He didn’t tell you?”

Your smug expression melts away. “What?”

“I don’t live here anymore,” she says.

Just then you both hear a scuffle of boots behind her and look to see Joel walking up the steps, hair slicked back fresh from the baths. He looks between you and Tess, both of your faces marked with confusion. 

“Everythin’ okay?” he questions.

“Why does Tess think she doesn’t live here anymore?” you blurt out, acrimony lacing your words.

“Because she doesn’t?” He continues looking back and forth.

“Why would you kick her out? She had nothing to do with me leavin’, she didn’t know-”

“She didn’t move out as a punishment,” he clarifies. “Everyone found a new place to live, it’s just you and I here now.”

“Wh- What?” you stutter. Is that why you haven’t seen anyone else since you got back? You and Joel have been alone here and you barely even questioned it. A million questions race through your mind. You land on the simplest. “Why?”

“Why? Because you told me you thought we were meant to be together but you couldn’t watch me be with anyone else,” Joel says, moving past Tess and closer to you in the doorway as he speaks. “So there’s no one else now. It’s just me and you.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t dare risk a glance at Tess to measure her reaction to Joel’s recounting of your humiliating confession. Joel moves to take your hand but you pull back, worried that you would melt into his touch and your armor would shatter, floating away like dust on the wind only to leave you naked and exposed right there at the front door for everyone to see.

Instead, Joel says he’ll be right back and moves past you and into the house. You see him head towards his office as you keep your gaze unfocused on the bustling square behind Tess. He comes back moments later and steps past you again, Tess turning to join him in bouncing down the stairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” you call out to their retreating figures.

They stop and Joel turns around. “Got work to do,” he replies.

“You’re just gonna leave me here? Don’t you wanna chain me to the radiator or somethin’?” you shout loud enough that you’re sure some of the neighbors can hear.

“Do I need to?” he shouts back.

Tess elbows him, looking around and smiling an awkward grin. They both turn back towards the square and continue walking away, leaving you at the threshold.

Since you apparently have an empty house and nothing else to do, you heat up several pots of water, carrying them upstairs to take a bath in the tub. You've been wearing the same thing for nearly a week, so you discard your smelly clothes on the bathroom floor and sink into the hot water. You let yourself soak until the water grows tepid, thinking over Joel’s words as he left earlier. It’s just me and you. He’d sent everyone away, even Tess, because you told the idiot you were foolishly in love with him once. Now you’re in this house all alone with him. God, it sounds like a nightmare, you whisper to yourself, even as a thrilling feeling zips down your spine and makes your pussy clench.

Fuck, you hate him, why do you react like this? He’s a fucking maniac, a controlling narcissist who has hurt you to keep you from leaving him. Once out of the bath you plod around the house, naked and dripping, confirming what Joel told you this morning. Every bedroom, aside from the two claimed by you and Joel, is unoccupied. The beds are stripped bare, the dressers are empty of clothing, the shelves devoid of books, and any personal belongings that once adorned the walls or tops of nightstands have been cleared away.

You pass by the front door, checking the lock as you go, seeing it unlocked and thinking how crazy it is that he just left you here. He seems pretty confident you’re not going to set fire to all his flannel shirts, grab his gun from the locked case that he irresponsibly leaves the key on top of, and raid his pantry before you take off up the mountain. Then you realize that’d probably be a lot of wasted energy since you’re fairly certain you’d end up right back here within a week, Joel clearly unwilling to lose the game of cat and mouse you’re engaged in.

You utilize your time alone by snooping further, letting yourself into Joel’s unlocked office and walking around the sun-filled room. There’s so many windows in here but you don’t even care if anyone sees you snooping around in the nude. You run your fingers along the spines of the paperbacks on his bookcases, recalling afternoons spent with him in this room, alone. You’d practically sit on his lap, watching his mouth curl around the words while he read to you about doctors or dinosaurs, courtroom dramas or enchanted forests. The way you wanted him… could you ever feel that again? He seems to think so.

You sit down at his desk and start rummaging through all his drawers. He’s got pens and notebooks, patrol schedules and calendars, and several photographs of him with people you don’t recognize, taken on polaroid cameras in what looks like a Fedra QZ. You find several maps drawn out of the Valley, both the town and the larger community outside its crude walls. You move to put the maps back and a piece of cloth catches your eye.

You pull it out to find that it’s your pillowcase from the dairy farm. You’d come back from your bath one day this past spring and had noticed it missing. Inside the pillowcase are two books; the one he gifted you for Christmas and the one you’d lost at the farm. Tess confirmed your suspicions the other day but you’re still pissed off at this evidence that he couldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t let you just move on. The last thing inside the pillowcase is a pair of your underwear and you stop to think, unable to remember any of those going missing at the farm.

Then it dawns on you when he’d taken these underwear. Unlike his other ill-gotten keepsakes these were something that you let him take off you. These were from the night you let him in completely, let him have every last piece of your mind and soul, let him devour you completely. The night you knew you loved him. Your body reacts again, a heat spreading across your chest and up your neck to your cheeks. You feel your core start to tingle and uninvited images of him between your legs plague your mind. That memory shouldn’t make you feel like this. He shouldn’t make you feel like this.

He’s a liar. He’s a manipulator. He’s a bad fuckin’ guy.

Joel comes home late in the afternoon just as you’re getting hungry, having only eaten some canned vegetables from the basement all day, with dinner in his hands. He sets the containers down at opposite ends of the table again as you take your seat, awaiting his reaction to the sight of you dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and the reclaimed underwear that he’d kept hidden away. You see his eyes dart down your legs as he moves towards his own chair, but he doesn't react. You notice the meal is packaged up the way that Kerri used to do it, when she would bring meals out to valley residents. 

“Still got Kerri making all your meals for you, your majesty?” you mock.

“Making food for everyone is Kerri’s job now, so yeah, I stopped and got us some,” he says calmly, not taking your bait for a fight. “I didn’t think you’d feel up to making dinner for us yourself just yet.”

The realization of his words hits you like a slap in the face. “You expect me to make your dinner?” you balk. Before he can respond you stand and throw your food across the room, watching the hot steaming meal splatter against the wall behind him. “I’m not gonna cook and clean and let you breed me like I’m your little wife.” You tip your chair over as an added flair in your little tantrum and turn to march up the stairs, shouting as you go. “I’m not playing fucking house with you, Joel.” 

Joel didn’t think it was going to be easy, you adjusting to being back home. He knew you were still upset with him - rightfully so - and that it’d take time for you to adjust, to find your rightful place here. He thinks maybe you never found your footing before and that’s part of why you used to be so meek and adrift. Now he sees a confidence in you that he never saw before. He knows what you’re capable of, he knows how meticulous and calculated you can be when you want something. 

So he’ll just wait. He’ll wait until you figure out what you want. If you don’t want to cook that’s fine, he knows you’re not very skilled in the kitchen anyways. He doesn’t care what you do, he just wants you to find something to make you happy, to make you want to be here in this life with him. There are so many jobs here you could do but you never seemed interested in the garden, or the household chores, or fishing, or apparently even milking cows. 

So what are you interested in? He'll leave you to sort it out on your own and when you’re ready you can let him know, and he'll give it to you. He’ll give you anything you ask for, you just haven’t realized it yet.

---

Every day after that follows a similar script. Joel leaves with Tess in the mornings and you spend the day lazing about, making messes, and snacking on anything you can find. Several days in you worry that Joel will get on your back about the dent you’re putting in the preserved food stored in the root cellar. You head across the square to Georgia’s house, who used to love boring you with stories about her six kids - all adopted here in the valley - and is now happy to feed yet another welcome face. You only have to endure her talking your ear off and you get a hot meal. It’s almost too easy. 

As you walk around the square in the afternoons, you greet the residents, coming out of their houses to give you hugs and handshakes, hand you flowers and treats to give to Joel. You’re not even sure you’re supposed to be out of the house so how are you supposed to pass on these gifts? Does he know you leave the house, does he have people watching you and reporting back to him?

You wonder sometimes why you haven’t just skipped town. Part of you is pretty sure that he’d come after you and drag you back again. You’re good at surviving but you’re not an escape artist and he easily followed your clumsy trail halfway across the state last time. But the rest of you, in a bewildering state of honesty, can admit that you don’t want to go. You felt wrapped up in grief before and thought you had no chance but to run away, but you were sad to leave the safety and comfort of the Valley.

The community here provides a good, comfortable life, the people here are friendly and kind, they protect what’s theirs and look out for each other. You have a warm, soft place to rest your head and are never short on things to fill your belly. There’s a wall between you and the outside world and people who patrol that wall to keep danger on the other side. You’re safe. Things are good here, and what’s more, you are seemingly under the protection of the Alpha dog.

God, how pathetic are you that the thought of Joel being feral and insane for you is giving you comfort right now? The way people look up to him, the way they talk about him like he’s divine… you used to think it was inspiring. Then you thought it was just fodder for Joel’s ego, so self-obsessed that he raised himself up on a pedestal like a golden idol. Now, you’re ashamed to find yourself getting a contact-high off the power, dizzy with the masculine energy that radiates off him, under the spell of the dominant strength that everyone else also responds to.

In the passing weeks Joel comes back every evening with food that you know is made by Kerri and you both eat it in near-silence. You’re not foolish enough to toss it around the room and go hungry again, but you still pepper in attempts to pick a fight with him at every opportunity. 

This isn’t as good as she used to make it. She must be losing her touch.

This is so salty. You’d better be careful, what with your blood pressure and all.

The rice is undercooked and the meat is overcooked. Ugh, this is barely edible.

You’re not even sure why you’re doing it, really, and you’ve definitely given it thought, since you’re left alone with nothing but your thoughts all day every day. Everytime you open your mouth and something rude comes out you wait with bated breath, wondering if that will be the thing that sets him off. Are you trying to piss him off? Are you trying to make him toss his meal at the wall? Are you trying to get him to throw you over the table again? 

No, you don’t want to see that monstrous version of him show its fangs, but you’d still be entertained to get a rise out of him. He’s been like a neutered dog since he dragged you back here, letting you berate and disrespect him daily. You’d like to see him show some backbone, to have a reaction to what you’re doing. With each passing day there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind that tells you he doesn’t care, that he’s getting tired of your attitude, that he’s losing interest. No matter how many times you tell yourself you don’t care - the thoughts still make your mind swirl with disappointment.

Worse than that though, is the sour feeling in your stomach when you sit across from him every night and watch him eat Kerri’s food. You know it shouldn’t bother you and you know that you never even actually saw them together, but it doesn’t stop the image of their two bodies entwined from inserting itself into the forefront of your mind. Kerri cooking for your man, touching your man, fucking your man. 

No, not your man. Fuck. He’s not yours, he’s anyone’s who has open, willing legs and you don’t even want him anyways. You hate him.

And yet, you can’t stop the jealousy percolating in your gut as you sit across the table and watch him shovel her cooking into his face. Finally, on the eighteenth dinner you eat together, Joel has had enough. You’re still wearing a snarky smile from the comment you’ve just made about the gravy being lumpy when he slams his palm down on the table, rattling the plates. Finally. You bite your cheek to stop your smile from growing.

“Can you stop being such a b-” he stops before he calls you the name on the tip of his tongue.

He watches your face as you react to his outburst. Your eyes go wide, your teeth peek out from your ghoulish grin. He stops himself before he can hurl the insult at you. You’re trying to get to him - you have been for weeks - and he’s been up till now able to resist your provocation. He doesn’t want to fight with you, he’s trying to be a good man and show you only the best parts of him. He’s trying to earn your love back. But goddamnit, he’s had a fucking shit day and your constant complaining isn’t making it any better.

He looks back down at his dinner and resumes eating, ignoring your comment. The gravy isn’t lumpy so you’re full of shit, you’re just being miserable because that’s your new normal. You shit all over him from the moment he gets home with dinner every night and then march upstairs and lock yourself away in his old room. Does he deserve to be punished for every shitty thing he’s done to you? Of course he does, but he was hoping you’d be willing to forgive him too. He thought he saw it in your eyes at one point that night at the summer camp, when you were remembering how you loved him once.

Why didn’t you just shoot him when you had the chance? You had the rifle aimed at his heart, all you had to do was pull the trigger. But you didn’t. Maybe you thought death would be too much of a kindness, too easy of a way out. Maybe you knew he’d come back here and face one of the most difficult springs leading this place and that having to figure out a way to slog through it would be a punishment worse than death.

That’s probably an over exaggeration - Joel knows - but sometimes he thinks he’s not cut out for this shit, for leading a community with so many moving parts. He’s the one who collects everyone’s grievances and is relied upon to find the solution for every problem, big or small. Today he got a report from the Mansfield's dairy farm - the same place you temporarily called home - that the milk output would be down this year. Joel cursed at the note sent in Hank’s own hand. The community had grown by just over ten percent from this time last year and more milk was needed, not less. 

He had an afternoon meeting that gave him more bad news; one of his trusted advisors, Peter, had taken stock of his personal supplies after the long winter and found that he was running short on food to feed his large family. He and his wife had taken in 6 kids - between the ages of 7 and 17 - and he half-jokingly told Joel that they were eating him out of house and home. Peter confided that he wasn’t the only one around town who was feeling the pressure of needing this growing season to be bountiful while also acknowledging that the shorter spring was going to hinder the yields.

After the bloody night at the lakeside camp Joel got to thinking about the safety and security of the community. He’d been distracted from his priorities for far too long, and he began implementing new rules as soon as he got back. He ordered that everyone start taking inventory of their stocks and sending him reports, in addition to letting him know what their upcoming seasons looked to yield and what was needed to ensure success. He did away completely with the evening meetings, declaring it safer to have everyone back home before darkness fell. Instead, he spends all his days meeting with people at an office he set up at the town-square, or traveling all around the valley to meet with people at their homes.

Joel had the idea to set up a cafeteria-style system utilizing two old restaurants - which Kerri and Tess staffed - that works to feed residents in place of the meals everyone used to meet up for on certain evenings during the week. Most families prefer to keep their own food stocks and prepare their own meals but everyone donates to the community as a whole, and so there is the ability for anyone who doesn’t want to or doesn’t know how to cook, to get a hot meal any day of the week. The only payments accepted are - as it always is in the Valley - an exchange of goods or services.

These changes have been in effect for over two weeks but Joel is still plagued by worries for the safety of his flock, including you. He doesn’t want to have brought you back here just to put you in more danger. So it was the cherry on top of a bad day when, just as he was about to head to the cafeteria and grab food, Tess stopped by to let him know that they’d just done inventory at the armory and found less guns and ammo than they’d had at last count. 

Joel remembers the promise of help you’d made to the skinny travelers you’d come across like a knife piercing his stomach. He knows they aren’t the ones raiding his armory - thanks to you - but that there are others like them out there. People desperate and willing to go to extreme lengths for survival. People who have perhaps already found their way past the Valley’s defenses. 

So to say Joel is stressed today might be an understatement. Still, he doesn’t want to fight with you. He wants you to be his comfort, his shelter in the storm. He wants you to be his rock. But lately it seems as though all you want to be is the rocky coastline his ship wrecks itself against. 

He stays silent the rest of the meal, not wanting to sink to your depths and get involved in another fight that ends in food all over the floor, cursing, and slamming doors. He stands to take your plate and when he sees that you’ve scraped all the perfectly good gravy off the food you ate - leaving behind a congealed puddle in the middle of your dish - he feels a twitch behind his eyeball. He’s trying to be a good man. God, he wishes he were a good man.

“If you think you could do better, I’m sure I could find you an apron around here somewhere,” he says.

He sees your smug face turn to his, lips forming a snarl just as he turns away to walk into the kitchen, and hears the scrape of your chair on the floor as you stand up. There’s a long pause and he walks slowly through the archway, waiting to see what your comeback could be, hoping since he took your plate that he left you with nothing to throw.

You feel it, the incandescent heat filling up the empty spaces inside you, alight at the way that you finally coaxed a reaction out of him. His snarky remark, his attention, his ire, focused on you. You hate how much you love it, don’t want to face how fulfilling it is that weeks of a calculated, spiteful attitude is finally paying off. And then a thought grips your heart like ice-cold claws; you still love his attention because you still love him. Then, your fists clench and your stomach coils at his repeated insinuation that you could be his dutiful little housewife, and spend your time in this house cooking and cleaning for him. 

You push away the thoughts that you might hold any affection for him. You don’t love him, you hate him. He’s seen what you’re capable of, he knows who you are. You laid yourself bare to him and yet here you are, stuck in his house with no real purpose, the expectation that you’ll replace the duties of all the women he sent away. You’ll cook, you’ll clean, you’ll get on your knees. Except apparently you don’t have to cook, since Kerri’s still doing that for him. Jealousy burns you from head to toe at the thought of what else she could still be doing for him.

“You said it was just gonna be you and me,” you shout.

He turns and looks into your face, red and scowling, before looking around the room just for good measure. 

“I don’t see anyone else here, do you?” 

He wishes he could be a smart-ass about it but he’s genuinely confused. No one but him has even stepped foot in this house since you came back, he even makes Tess wait on the porch in the mornings. You raise your arm and point violently to the plates in his hands. He looks down. The dinner plates?

“Dinner?” he questions.

You nod your head, yes.

“But that’s just-”

You fold your arms across your chest, pouting further.

“So you don’t want another woman making me dinner?”

You shake your head, no.

“But you don’t want to make me dinner.” It’s not a question, you made the answer pretty clear already.

You answer anyways, shaking your head, no, again.

He opens his mouth to argue and then immediately shuts it. He looks down at the dinner plates, then back up at you. A moment passes as he easily realizes why your anger would be directed at Kerri. She’s not just another woman, she’s the other woman, for all intents and purposes. The one you caught him with when you thought - when he let you think - that he only had eyes for you. He did, he only wanted you, but he was also an asshole accustomed to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. 

He fucked up. He broke your trust - one of the most precious things you’d ever given him - and he acted like it didn’t matter to him. If this is what you want, no more meals from Kerri, he’ll do it. He’s already told himself he’ll give you anything you want. Whatever it takes to get you back.

“Okay,” he says.

🖤

NEXT

Thank you Bug and Beef for helping me with editing this beast. I love you!!

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[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part eight - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: dub con ; slightly nsfw

All she can think about right now is how much of a dumb decision this was.

Michael disappears with a guy onto the dance floor, leaves her with his two friends who she has nothing in common with. She’s already three shots of tequila in.

No, she doesn’t want to dance, she wants to go home. She sips her drink, leans against the booth, and watches people in shiny clothes writhe under chaotic lights.

Michael’s friends—she forgets their names—get up and go to the bathroom. And now she’s completely alone, sitting in the sticky leather booth, uncomfortable and underdressed and trying to seem very interested in a phone with nothing on it. She pulls up Michael’s number to text him that she’s going to head home, but knowing him he’ll insist on getting her back safe, and then she’ll be ruining his fun. She shuts her screen off and shoves it back into her pocket.

She looks up to scan the crowd for Michael, and her eyes catch on a familiar face glowing neon under the warm dancing lights. Her heart stutters like it’s taking a picture…then jumping off a cliff. He’s shaved the facial scruff into a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His black hair is thick silk framing the sharp angles of his face. He sits alone at the bar, dressed in a casual midnight suit, sipping a dark drink out of a crystal glass that looks small in his hand. He is looking directly at her.

Long legs, heavy shoulders. The tapered waist of his jacket flows elegantly from his hips. His tie is neat, and not a piece of him is out of place. He is John, but not the one she knows. Not the one handcuffed to the bed and smiling at her. She feels, for sure, that this John is the one who spilled all the blood that day in the prison—this is the grim reaper.

This is stalking—he doesn’t care. Some might mistake him for thick-headed, but John knows when he’s out of line. He’s very aware of what he’s about to do.

The first night he got out, he struggled. Not just with stealing his car back from Winston’s safe-keeping, but also with his emotions. The fact that he is here—rather than acting as testament to his lunacy—is proving he is in more control now than he has ever been.

He once spent decades in subservience, always putting his own needs last and bowing to those with power. He starved while watching others grow plump with satisfaction and victory.

And it’s because he never wanted anything…anyone. Never truly desired the taste of possession nor the means to get it.

Not until now.

He’s felt fractions of this before in moments and people and things and substances—this thing he feels for her. It’s too soon and too moronic to identify the connection as love. However, the bond is strong and natural and he wants it and he will have it.

His nurse immediately averts her gaze, shy just like how he remembers her. His mouth ticks up around the last sip of his drink before making his way over.

He slides into the booth across from her. She looks up.

He greets her using her name. She’s surprised he remembers it.

“Hello, John.”

His fingers itch to grab her chin and make her eyes look at him instead of darting around for an escape route. That is his fault, that she thinks she can run. He should have shut that inclination down the moment he started to admire her.

It’s only been a day since he disappeared into the city, and he is so much different now. Taller than she remembers. Well fed. The suit clings to his biceps. She watches the muscle shift under the fabric while her mouth fills with saliva and her brain screams at her stupidity.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asks, his deep voice never failing in making her fingers and toes ache.

“What?” She says. She really can’t hear what he says over the booming music, and she was only half listening to the question while preoccupied with drooling over how fucking good he looks. Here he is, out of handcuffs and free to a good home, and her brain is malfunctioning.

He gets up, sits next to her, pushes into her body and puts his lips close to her ear. She grips the table violently. “Can I get you a drink?”

He smells like a hint of musky cologne mixed with clean shaving soap. The heat and bulk of him intoxicate her more than the alcohol ever could. Everything is sharp and blurry at the same time. She is both too sensitive and too numb for his touch.

He has a lot to say, and the irony that he can’t because of the loud music isn’t lost on him.

He talks with his body.

John brushes her hair behind her ear, admires the velvet plush of her face and neck, the plump breasts hidden under her t-shirt. Every spot that she is soft and pillowy he wants to bite and suck. His cock agrees vehemently with this urge and thickens on his thigh.

She squirms, flustered and terrified.

The Baba Yaga likes both. The Baba Yaga likes her. John likes her, too. Finally something they can agree on.

“Can I?” John presses, mouth so close to her skin she can feel the damp heat of it.

“Wh-“ she clears her throat “-what?”

“Buy you a drink?” He repeats, patient with her because he knows that her body is coming to terms with him invading its’ space.

“Yes.”

“Excuse me, then.” He is gone faster than she can look to see which direction he goes in. She takes this moment to loosen her grip on the table because her fingers have been drained of blood. Now that he’s gone, she can think a bit clearer and the one reasonable thought she has is that this man, while being irresistible, can also easily kill her. She could leave. Walk out. Avoid whatever this is going to turn into, which probably does involve her dead. She’s a witness to what happened in St. Mercy’s—maybe one of only a few left to his DIY blood bath.

Before she can decide to run, he’s back, setting a glass of clear, bubbling liquid in front of her.

She takes a sip before she can really think about what she’s doing. Her brain regrets drinking, but her taste buds do not. The delightful mint flavor mixed with tickling carbonation is delicious. It’s too late now, so she takes another.

His liquor is caramel colored with a strong aroma. He holds it in his mouth before he swallows it. She can smell it sweet and bitter on his breath while he talks in her ear like they are good friends.

He plants one heavy arm around the back of the booth, turns his body toward her, and lays his other arm on the table in front of her.

Trapped, she panics. He feels her body tense like a spring, but he doesn’t like that. He wants her soft and pliant. He likes her clinging to him as if he’s the only thing that can keep her stable.

“No,” he chides, “it’s okay. You know who I am.”

That’s the problem, she knows exactly who he is.

Heat radiates from him in thick, choking waves. Sweat pools between her breasts and trickles down her belly. She takes another drink to cool down, regretting not putting the tank top on instead of this stupid sweaty Henley.

“You’re scared of me,” he says.

She nods, so easily admitting fear, and he simultaneously hates and loves this. He hates it because she can’t be wholly his while a part of her is terrified of him. He loves it because in that fear lies the admittance that she remembers him.

“Oh, honey.” It’s such a strange thing coming from his mouth, but the pet name sends pleasant little tingles through her tummy. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Because he’s an honest man, he amends this with, “not in a way that won’t make you feel good.”

She really wants to believe him, but she absolutely doesn’t.

She doesn’t relax at all. In fact, her shoulders get tighter as she leans away from him. Part of it is that her cunt throbs when he tacks on that last part, and it’s so violent and sudden that she’s afraid he can feel it resonate in the air between their hips.

“Please talk to me.”

She looks at his face. He wears big puppy eyes and a soft, sad mouth. That look makes her heart pause in its panicking to ache instead. He is close enough that she can kiss him again.

“I don’t know what to say to you.” Her voice is timid and small. He has to read her lips. “But.. thank you...for…saving me.”

There she is, the selfless heroin here to make sure his feelings aren’t getting hurt.

“The pleasure is all mine.” John rests his fingers on top of her own. It’s meant to soothe, but all she can think of is how long his hands are and how capable they would be of snapping her pinkie in half or reaching places inside her that she can’t find on her own.

She knows Michael’s friends don’t like her, but she wants them back. Her eyes scan the crowd for the two women.

“Why are you so terrified of me?” It’s a manipulative question, and he knows it. He’s had people be terrified of him for less than what she’s seen. But he wants to hear her say it.

She looks at him, incredulously, her expression calling out his bullshit question for what it is. “You killed…people.”

He thinks for a moment, trying to choose the right words to say. “I did it to get us out.”

She can’t argue with this.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asks him, shrinking. A flash of blue light catches her eyes and paints them glassy and beautiful.

His response is inappropriate, but he can’t help it. He chuckles, although a bit annoyed he has to repeat himself. “No. I said I won’t hurt you.”

“Then what do you want, John?” Her voice is high and tight.

He wets his lips, deciding to err on the side of simple and candid. “You.”

There are a couple possibilities:

He’s lying to get to her.

He’s telling the truth, which is unlikely.

Instead of killing her, he’s appeasing her so she won’t tell on him. Which is ridiculous. Who would she tell? The cops? If she hasn’t told them yet she’s definitely not going to.

Honestly, only one of these options appeal to her, and it’s the one that’s far fetched. A fever fantasy dream—literally. John wants her? This John? She wants to laugh in his face.

He rolls his thumb under the smooth skin below her ear and earns a full bodied shudder and a flinch. “Let me kiss you. Again.”

Her heart flutters, blushes, squeals, acts like it belongs to a 16-year-old girl in the height of puberty. Vivid and violent and wonderful, that moment when their lips touched. Her body yearns for the feeling, teetering on top of the rollercoaster drop, and not sure if it has a choice whether to fall or not.

“Here?” She gestures to the club around them.

“Anywhere,” he says, “take me somewhere. Let me take you somewhere.”

He watches patiently as she fights with herself. He wants her to say yes without persuasion, but the thought of her saying no is the opposite of appealing. It’s so unappealing, in fact, he just might have to drag her out of here anyway if she decides to decline.

To save her the trouble, he helps make the decision. “Yes,” he answers a question she never asked out loud, “if you say no, it will hurt my feelings.”

He knows it’s fucked up, to do that to her. She’s proved that she can’t put her own feelings above someone else’s—even if that someone else is scum—and he knows she won’t turn him down if she thinks it will upset him…Even him. But, the other option is to let her go, and that’s not going to happen. Kicking and screaming tends to get more attention than calm exits in crowded places.

“Where are we going?” She asks, trying not to sound defeated.

He takes the last sip of his bourbon. “Your place.”

“Just let me text my roommate,” she says

“Of course.”

She opens up the text chain that her and Michael share, unsure of what to say. She settles on telling him she’s getting a ride home with an old, good friend.

Is the old friend hot? 😉

She tilts her phone screen so John can’t see what she’s typing, even though he can.

Yes.

Once she’s satisfied that Michael isn’t going to be concerned, she sticks her phone back into her pocket. “I also have to close my tab.”

He slides her credit card across the table and pushes it under her hand. “It’s on me.”

She feels her pocket for money. “How much was it? I’ll give you the cash-“

He rests his hand on her own, stilling her search. His hot skin sears her hip. He sounds amused when he talks to her. “I said it’s on me. That means I’m paying for it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He can tell she wants to press the issue, and is biting her tongue.

She tries to wave him away when he offers her his hand to help stand from the booth, but he takes it anyway and pulls her up. She’s unsteady, swaying. Her body has just realized that it’s drunk. He helps her navigate through the crowd, arm wrapped securely around her back. It’s easy for her to start hanging onto him again, almost as if she’s done it a dozen times. He asks her if she has to use the restroom before they leave, reminding her that her bladder was full thirty minutes ago.

He waits outside, leaning on the wall, watching the door, nervous that’s she’s going to try and get away from him. He is so relieved when he sees her come out of the bathroom, he immediately pulls her back against him, and startles her.

She grips onto his jacket to keep upright, unsurprised by how sturdy he is by now. He can hold her easily while walking them through the chaos of the club. He doesn’t stumble or falter even once as he ensures they both make it out the door. The outside air is cold and bitter, but John is warm. She huddles a bit closer into his side. It’s so strange, having someone that can handle her weight easily—very much something she’s not used to.

He wraps tighter around her, reassuring and solid, happy to provide shelter.

“My house is three blocks away,” she says, and it’s nice to hear her voice clearly. Snowflakes fall onto her pretty skin and melt away.

He shakes his head, pulls keys out of his pocket with the arm that’s not secured around her.

If she weren’t so nervous, she’d ask him how he scored such a pretty mustang.

John leaves her on the sidewalk while he opens the door for her. Carefully, she cuddles into the icy leather seat, bundling her jacket closer around her shoulders.

The inside of his car smells like gas fumes and leather. It’s pleasant, delicious.

He slides in beside her, turns the rumbling engine on, and flips dials on the dash. Cool air blows from the vents. She shivers. He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over her, leaving him in only the silky black dress shirt and tie underneath.

“You’re gonna freeze to death,” she tells him.

“I like the cold,” he argues. “What’s your address?”

He seems to have no problem finding her apartment complex. She’s disappointed that he didn’t take at least one wrong turn because she likes watching him drive—it’s 100% the hands—and she wants to delay her possible death for a little while longer.

She grabs the solid metal handle to open her door, but he stops her.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Opening my door.” She doesn’t bother keeping the obstinance out of her tone.

“Let me.”

Reluctantly, and with an eye roll, she releases the handle and lets him open up the car door for her. He reaches for her hand and helps her step out of the vehicle. His arm is around her again before they walk into her building and up the stairs to the second floor. She pulls out the key, but he takes it, unlocks the door, and guides her inside.

Now he’s just being ridiculous while he finds and flips the lights on in her apartment and then pulls out a kitchen chair for her to sit in.

“I can do all that,” She says, frowning at him, crossing her arms defiantly and looking as intimidating as a hamster. “Are you one of those dudes that don’t let women use their hands?”

He will butt heads with that maverick attitude, although he’s grateful that she’s warming up to him again. “You mean a gentleman?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” And she smiles.

Despite her protest, she drapes his jacket over the back of the seat and then lets him help her push herself up to the table.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, opening up her fridge.

“No, I’m fine.”

He looks doubtful. “Have you eaten today?”

She laughs. He hasn’t heard it in a while, that melodic tinkling. “We ate McDonald’s before we went to the club. But if you’re hungry, help yourself to anything. There’s also soda in the mini fridge.” She thumbs to the living room.

He shuts the door of the fridge and takes the seat across from her, eclipsing the little budget friendly and thrifted chair and kitchen table.

John starts in with asking her about herself. She tells him what’s she’s comfortable with and leaves out the gory details. Most of his inquiries are simple: “how old are you?” “What do you do for fun?” “Where are you from?”

It gets a little dicey when he asks about her family.

“Uh, I don’t have one,” she tells him, looking down at the table. “I was in foster care for a while then got out as soon as I was 18.”

“No adopted parents?” He asks.

“Some.” She rubs her cheek where her bruise is almost gone now. “A lot. Never any that I stayed with.”

He hums, rubbing his fingers over the grooves in her table and wishing it was her palm. “Are you lonely?”

She stiffens, looks up at him. “Sometimes, yes.”

“Friends?” He asks.

“Michael,” she says, “the roommate you told me to adopt. Really, thank you for that.”

He smiles. “I’m glad I could help.”

“Your turn,” she says, tilting her chin at him.

He opens his arms up. “Ask away.”

She does not ask him what he expects her too. She wants to know his favorite color, favorite animal, his birthday, why everyone likes him so much.

He grins at the last question. “I guess I’ve just learned from experience how to charm people. Much like yourself.”

She snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

“You’re very kind. Brave.” He looks sincere while he elaborates this.

She tries not to be overcome with embarrassment and flattery while waving him off with a scoff. Him telling her that, whether he means it or not, makes her confidence turn from shriveled to swollen and leaking and she needs to displace some of the feeling before she gets addicted to it.

His eyes narrow at her inability to take the compliment.

She changes the subject, nervous. “Where’d you get that nice suit?”

He raises his eyebrows, allowing the deflection, but counting it as strike 2. “It’s custom made by a friend.”

Her eyes widen. “Fancy.”

“Something like that.”

“Can I guess your favorite drink?” She grins.

“Go for it.” He sounds amused.

“Scotch.”

“Close. Bourbon.”

“Damnit!” She cries. “Should have gone with my first guess.”

He makes a face at her that says ‘yeah, sure.’ She likes that, because she’s laughing again, and alerting every dopamine receptor in his brain to release.

“So, you’re Russian, you have custom made suits, you are…good at fighting. You’re like…James Bond?”

His smile wriggles into a grin. “If that’s what you want.”

She shrugs. “I’m more of an Indiana Jones gal’, to be honest.” Her grin matches his own.

He hums. “I can work with that.”

She raises an eyebrow, lips pursing as she rubs her hands together in uneasy gesture.

“Do you still think I’m going to kill you?” He’s nothing if not blunt.

She thinks about it for a minute. “Honestly? A little bit. Can you blame me?”

“No, but why am I in your apartment if you think that?” He asks.

“I’ve come to terms with my death…in the past hour.” she shrugs.

“Have you?” He muses.

“Yes, we all die. I’m a nurse, I know that. If I die, I die.” Really, she’s terrified of that unknown darkness that waits after her heart stops, but she doesn’t want to seem like a pussy in front of him anymore. Especially not him.

Also, she’s grown more comfortable with him now that they’ve been talking again. It’s like he’s John in the infirmary bed sans handcuffs. Just like at the prison, she doesn’t want to be afraid of him, even though he’s scary.

“How do I convince you I don’t want to kill you?” He asks, face serious.

“I don’t know.” She gives him an apologetic look.

He sucks his teeth. She watches his mouth and jaw move. Her lower body reminds her that it likes him, too, and is not afraid of him at all.

“Then I’ll just have to use trial and error,” he reasons.

She wonders what he means, but doesn’t have to be confused for very long.

He pushes his chair back, leans himself at an angle, and pats one thigh, motioning for her. “We can start with the kiss.”

Her heart pulls at her nerve endings like it’s stopping a wild horse in sprint. Her pupils get wide and her mouth scrunches like she’s trying hard not to make some kind of embarrassing facial expression. She looks at him, but it’s hard to keep his eyes in line with her own when his are dark and lowered at her like this.

“You don’t have to.” She tries one last bid to save herself from being completely obsessed with him—to let him back out and decide she’s not worth the effort. She doesn’t want him to force himself into doing this just because he thinks she’ll tell on him or otherwise. She doesn’t want to feel like she’s manipulating him into kissing her. Because that sounds much worse than death.

But every part of her body, besides her rational brain, wants to kiss him. Desperately.

His patience has run out. He gets up, grabs the back of her neck and threads his fingers through the sensitive baby hairs at the back of her scalp, tilts her face up.

He’s rough, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s an unyielding pressure that resonates in her cunt. He muffles her distressed grunt with his mouth.

He’s teeth, tongue, saliva. It’s hard to breathe with him in her throat. Her hands grip his nice shirt. He pulls her up by the back of her neck, and her moan dies in their combined throat.

The wet connection of their lips has her hips grinding into his thigh and his hands imprinting her scalp. She burns from her head to her toes. He struggles to get closer, use the blanket of her body to try and smother his own tumultuous fire.

Her phone rings, and she has to ignore it while he pulls at her hair and backs her up into the fridge. The cool at her back feels nice mixed with the heat of his body. She’s on her tiptoes, gripping his arms to let off some of the pressure in her scalp, trying to chase the ache between her legs with the sturdy muscles in the thigh he has pressed between them.

He pulls away with her bottom lip captured in his teeth, and she only has a second to whine about the sting until he’s back on her.

Her phone rings again. She has to try and push him off because twice means it might be an emergency.

He doesn’t budge, and if he knows she wants to stop then he doesn’t care.

Text message dings, phone ringing again. His lips move from her mouth to her jaw, nipping and laving at that delicate flesh. His scratchy facial hair tickles and chafes her skin.

She tries to form a coherent thought and translate it into a sentence, but all that comes out are wet mewls. Michael might be in trouble. She pushes harder against the solid rock of his body.

John takes the hint, but not very well. He releases her neck with a low gravelly sound that translates to a growl. His self control, usually unbreakable, fissures. He glares down at her, breathing deep and loud.

Reluctantly, he lets her push past him and look at her phone.

He leans against her fridge and watches how her eyes grow wide and worried in the bright light of her screen. The anxiety on her face turns his annoyance into concern.

She pulls up her phone calendar. Saturday. The weekend. The day that Benny invited her camping. And there he is; five missed text messages, 4 missed calls. Two voicemails.

John watches her skin drain some of its lovely color.

She reads the texts. They start off nice, then turn into vulgar threats.

The last one is him sending her a copy of her own address.

She slams her phone down, free-falling into the verge of a full blown panic attack.

She had forgotten to erase and block his number after he forcefully put it in her phone. While he was in her messages, he must have gotten her address off the text chain between her and Michael. He knows where she lives, and even if he doesn’t have the passcode to the front door and a key to get into her apartment, he can easily wait outside for her. Or around the block. She tries her best to not start hyperventilating, but her eyes inevitably swell with stinging fluid and her lungs constrict like snakes are wrapping around them.

“What? What’s wrong?” She feels John’s hand on her shoulder. It brings her back down to earth. The serpents twisting her insides coil away, hissing in fear. Her breathing gets easier. He wraps his hands around her waist softly, says her name. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he urges.

She’s so tired of protecting this asshole, but the two possibilities that will come from telling john are equally unappealing. The first one is that he doesn’t care and leaves because he thinks she’s a whore. The second option is that he kills or injures Benny, and that would mean blood inadvertently on her hands.

She doesn’t know if she should be grateful or terrified when he grabs her phone, types her passcode—how the hell does he know that?—and opens up Benny’s voicemail.

“John, stop - “

But the angry voice is already coming on over the speaker. “Hey Darlin’. I’ll be over in a few minutes. If you’re not ready, I’m dragging you out of there.”

He holds the phone out of her reach and plays the next. “I’m five minutes away from your house. You better be outside or you won’t enjoy yourself tonight.” Benny sounds drunk in this one.

John flips to the text messages once he’s done with the voicemails.

By the time he’s done reading them, his eyes are drained of light. Not even the bright phone screen casts a reflection in the pools of black matte. He looks up at her and presses the power button.

“Did he hit you?” He grips her chin and his big hand is wide enough to cover the entire bottom of her face.

“What are you going to do?” She whispers. He feels the vibration in the air from her quivering body, but can’t find it in himself to feel bad, especially when she’s committed to keeping a bastard protected.

He loved how altruistic she was when they first met, the care that she showed for everyone—especially he himself—was endearing and sincere. But now he knows he has to break her from that senseless kindness because she is too fucking nice for her own good.

“I’m going to kill him,” John tells her, words piercing like needles and threading her wild anxiety tighter.

She doesn’t like Benny, would even go so far as to say she hates him, but the thought of him dying because of her confession turns her stomach with guilt. And maybe not believing John would absolve some of that foreshadowed liability, but he had killed countless grown men with a bed rail in front of her, so she knows he’s more than capable of keeping his word and becoming the reaper.

She won’t condemn someone, even if they are a scumbag. He catches the look in her face that tells him just that.

And he does something that she doesn’t expect and doesn’t want to see cutting his usually serious face: He smiles, genuinely and viciously.

He is physically bigger than her, that much is true, but nothing makes her feel as small as that smile. It is the smile of someone who knows what they want and how to get it, consequences be damned.

Fear is like electricity in her veins, so cold it burns.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him, now actually crying.

She watches his jaw grind, backs away from him.

He catches her shoulder, pulls her into his chest so that he can talk into the top of her head.

“You will not leave this apartment,” he tells her, “you will not get in my way.”

And she can tell that he’s not someone who people usually disobey.

[arpmemething2]

Agent Carter quotes

Send one for my muse’s response.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"She's a cute broad. When she's not punching me in the face. Who is she?"

"I think you're a man out for his own gain no matter who you're charging."

"How refreshing to meet someone who appreciates the finer things."

"Then we may get hurt, there'll be a spray of bullets."

"Does anyone else feel a chill going up their knickers?"

"I used to strap a chair to my ass and take long walks around the neighborhood, too."

"Your line of work requires support. People who care about your well-being, who'll be there to stitch up your wounds."

"He can be thoughtless. Inconsiderate. Vain. Childish. Unreliable. Arrogant."

"Because unless I have your reports, your coffee, or your lunch, I am invisible."

"It's so hard getting straight answers out of people nowadays. Whatever happened to a nice cup of tea and a civilized interrogation?"

"Promise you'll get the son of a bitch who did this. Say it!"

"You were trying to do something good, and I believe you accomplished it."

"Well, that was a bit premature."

"What? I hate small spaces. What if the chain snaps and I fall to my death?"

"I was angry. That doesn't mean I want you to die."

"You have one chip to trade on, fear, and fear is the one tool that little girls who grow up handcuffed to their beds learn. I however am not afraid of you."

"I'd rather be the cowboy."

"To you, I’m a stray kitten left on your doorstep to be protected. The secretary turned damsel in distress. The girl on the pedestal, transformed into some daft whore."

"And I suppose the confession portrays me as what? A patsy? A doe-eyed idiot succumbed to the charms of America’s mustachioed Casanova?"

"The necklace is equipped with a tracking device so that I can monitor your location at all times. And if you attempt to move the beacon or break even one link in the chain, you will be injected with a neurotoxin which will kill you in 35 excruciatingly painful seconds."

"I wonder if I might request a sick day."

"I'm not here to make you talk. I'm here to make you sing."

"I imagine strange women traipsing through the property isn't a completely unusual occurrence."

"If I allow people to get close to me, I'm putting them in danger."

"How would you feel if we smashed that mirror with this table?"

"Darling, you have no idea."

"Never speak again."

"Get the drop on them?" You've been in custody all of an hour, and you're Jimmy Cagney."

"Am I being fired?"

"Keep your eyes open."

"I like it. I don't think the audience is ready yet."

"You weren't really going to shoot me, were you?"

"Stop wahooing and help!"

"I know my value."

"All of my inventions are in your lab."

"Darling, you have no idea."

"But they're ready for a movie based on a comic book. Sounds like a dreadful idea."

"For all I know, you did steal your inventions."

"Comfortable back there?"

"Just another day at the office."

"I figured you'd never have a problem finding a man."

"My land lady gave me an idea."

"What kind of thing is that? The alphabet? I can teach you. Let's start with words beginning with "A"

"And one more thing... tip generously."

"Now, I go to work."

"Technically, we don't even know if it works. But, let's face it. I invented it. So, it works."

"You were happy out here, and then I came and mucked up your whole life."

"Maybe I was just fooling myself."

"Then why is your mustache so sad?"

"I'm just considering all the angles. It seems you have a lot of them."

"I, however, am not afraid of you."

"I could do with a hobby."

"In polite society, one telephones ahead before trespassing."

"I understand you're not happy with your meal."

"So, I've got two foreign agents with no voice boxes fighting over a milk truck full of experimental implosives."

"I'm so sorry. Truly."

"I have a terrible idea!"

"You're new to espionage, aren't you?"

"We're still attached to a table."

[oraclekleo]

Hii Kleo hope you're doing good and making lots of memories with your fur babies 🥰. I was intrigued to participate in your spicy version of kiss marry kill . And here's my result. Also I'm switch ? Like more on the dominant side but yeah ... so I was thinking I would love to be handcuffed by Park Seojoon 🙈 too . And for rest I want to dominate them . My sun -> Moon -> Rising = Aries -> Taurus -> Scorpio .

Strictly 18+ Content ahead. Minors do not engage!

alaezasmystery235 - Blindfold / Handcuff / Spank

Spread: BHS Tarot Deck(s): Dark Wood Tarot, Tarot of Sexual Magic

Park Seo Joon Handcuffs you - Ace of Swords, Ace of Swords

Seriously, what are the chances you get TWO aces of swords? Lol! Anyway! Looks like this is truly something Seo Joon is into. He’s likely to take his time properly binding your wrists and maybe ankles, too. Don’t expect those fluffy handcuffs, though, this man has props from movies he played in and will either use police metal handcuffs or just straight up wrap you in the most detailed shibari bondage. Looking gentle most of the time, he unchains the demon in him when it comes to handcuffs and he will encourage you to pull and squirm. He might even pretend he lost the key accidentally. Oops! You gotta stay in bed, honey!

Wi Ha Joon is Blindfolded by you - 5 of Wands, Ace of Pentacles

Wi Ha Joon might actually put on a little fight at first, not really wanting to be blindfolded as he loves to look at you. You have to overpower him there. Once he’s got his eyes covered, things get hot and sensual. You are likely to start teasing his other senses, especially touch and taste. Touching him, stroking, scratching and tracing his skin with a feather or an ice cube, just to pull some hisses and moans out of his lips. While Ha Joon is at your mercy, you feed him with grapes or strawberries or whatever you feel fit. Randomly and unexpectedly kissing him all over his body, leaving hot wet marks on him and driving him insane.

Ji Chang Wook gets spanked by you - 7 of Swords, 5 of Wands

I can see you have a talent for spanking. And Ji Chang Wook is not the one to complain about it. He’s likely to deliberately act bratty just to inspire you to punish him. Being insufferable, Ji Chang Wook is likely to tease you till you lose patience with him and command him to drop his pants down at this instant. You don’t even need to use any tools like whips or floggers, you feel completely confident about using your palm to punish Chang Wook’s behaviour. I see a certain sneakiness in the cards and daring vibe. While Chang Wook moans with delight from the last slap, you can’t resist biting him and driving him completely wild.

Thank you for reading!

Hit the Like 💖

Comment! 💬

Reblog! 🔁

Follow for more! 💌

Any Feedback is Welcomed ✅

Consider supporting me on ko-fi 💖

[tkworks80]

Wings

Final Chapter

Knock knock… Knock knock. Keigo got up from a sweat-soaked bed and the sounds of y/n crying. “Shut up already… Who could be knocking at this hour in the morning?” He growled and walked towards the front door. He unconsciously opened the door and there was a blast of heat that made him fly, crashing onto the sofa. Abruptly waking Moni up. Dabi walked in and walked towards Moni. She was still trying to get her bearings in order when she suddenly froze. She heard the voice that she dreaded for the past year. 

"Hey there, my love. It's unexpected to find you in a place you shouldn't be. I need a moment to deal with some unfinished business, particularly with this foolish asshole who thought it was okay to take something that wasn't theirs" Dabi whispered in Moni's ear while wearing a crazed smile. He quickly turned towards Keigo and grabbed him by the neck."Well, aren't you the selfish bird that not only stole my beloved, but also abducted your former spouse...What do you even need two women for? Are you hoping to build a harem for yourself? I highly doubt it." Dabi growled while activating his quirk, sending Keigo flaming punches to the gut. “You know I was worried for my Moni that I almost forgot it was Spring…shit Keigo you want to do whatever the fuck birds do in Spring…did I catch you in your rut?” Dabi chortled. He sniffed the air and smiled from ear to ear “The smell of cum, sweat, and disappointment…this is way too funny,” Dabi said while knocking Keigo unconscious. He grabbed Moni “Come on baby…daddy missed you so much it's time to make up for lost time…don’t you think?” Walking nonchalantly with Moni out of Keigo’s nest. 

y/n heard all the commotion and thought it was the best time to escape. Keigo left y/n untied and it was now or never so she quickly got up and ran towards the front door seeing Keigo unconscious on the living room floor. She tried to fly but for some reason, she couldn’t she felt her instinct go into overdrive. Could what Keigo says to be true? Shit, shit, shit she turned back regretting her instinctual physical movements. y/n walked and hoovered over Keigo You picked the burned and bruised messed you call your psycho ex-husband and threw him in bed, then handcuffed him, and bound his wings because you knew exactly what he could do with his feathers. You sat and waited for him. 

“shit…I’m fucked up…wait…what?” Keigo realized he was handcuffed and see y/n sitting and gazing at Keigo. “y/n…” was all he said. 

“Oh…how the tables have turned…that old uno reverse card,” y/n smiled. 

“Y/n…please baby…I just want a” Keigo was interrupted. 

“Shut up! You have nothing to say to me and you sure in the hell are not having a hatchling from me,” y/n hissed.

Struggling against the handcuffs Keigio tried to send his feathers to try to unlock the handcuffs but, to no avail, he felt his wings bound by yours truly. The look of fear and dread washed all over Keigos face.

“Payback is a bitch…huh babe,” y/m smiled at Keigo.

“What the fuck are you going to do to me?” he hissed.

“You probably assume that I would just simply call the hero commission to turn you psycho ass in…right? Well, you wouldn’t have been wrong at the beginning but…” y/n trailed off.

“You know Keigo you were absolutely right about the mating bond…you know I had a good chance of escaping but, something in me told me not to leave my mate alone so, so I pondered on how I can leave you and forget about you and I had an epiphany,” you smiled.

“What epiphany Y/n?” Keigo questioned.

“Torture you into submission…I need you to help me break the mating bond…isn’t that an awesome idea?” you walked towards him with such intent even Keigo got goosebumps.

“Y/n I totally understand why you're very upset with me but, please baby I need you,” Keigo pleaded.

“No, Keigo you really don’t need me, you just want my womb, you made it awfully clear with the Mall of the World incident…oh speaking of that, you know Moni? She just walked out with Dabi…I guess there is no loyalty amongst backstabbing bitches who like to betray their friends for sport,” y/n looked down on him. “This Spring will not be very pleasant for you cocksucker,” y/n said while grabbing Keigo’s neck. Y/n quickly let go of his neck and walked towards the chest of drawers where Keigo kept his goodies for Y/n’s torture. “I bet you regret showing me this goodie drawer?” y/n smirked.

“Don’t do this y/n…your better than this…don’t be so fucken petty,” Keigo hissed.

"It's ironic how someone can tell someone they wronged not to be petty when in reality that's what they're doing. It's almost as if they're expecting the person they wronged to simply accept their wrongs and move on. It's like they're expecting them to just let them live their life without consequence." y/n stated. “You know Keigo something broke inside me the moment you sacrificed me to save the person you truly love…I may have survived that day but, I died in my own eyes,” you pulled out a syringe. 

“Y/n…I…” Keigo couldn’t even speak. 

“Say it Keigo Break it with me,” y/n whispered.

“I agree…I break the mating bond…the bond that ties us is broken do you agree y/n?” he sobbed out.

Y/n walked out with a determined tone of voice, leaving Keigo in an angry state. He felt the loss of Moni, and the broken bond with y/n. He knew that it would be impossible to face Dabi in this state, and so y/n had promised to call someone to release Keigo in a day, so that she could get a head start. Keigo was left in a state of shock, anger and sadness as he watched y/n walk away.

[kunoichi-kame]

:)

Everybody slept in until at least noon.

Well, except for Lloyd. He got up at a decent time.

He fed the snake.

He offered to make breakfast for everyone else.

No one wanted to get up.

And then he made lunch on his own.

Zane was the first one to force himself out of bed, bearing witness to the sight of Lloyd curled up in his corner, holding a potato chip over the snake, trying to teach it tricks.

"I do not believe that is healthy for such an animal," Zane chuckles.

"Well, I'm not hunting down rats for her soooo."

Zane smiles.

Yeah.

Let's focus on this. Not what happened last night.

Zane reaches out for the accidentally acquired pet. "I can look up what you can feed her as a treat."

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

Lloyd watches as Zane cooks dinner.

The one with the ice powers is good at using heat.

Ironic.

"So I think I know how to manipulate Jay, think I'm almost there with Cole...what about you?"

Listening to Lloyd's evil 'planning' makes Zane smile. It's hard to be upset when there's a little kid ranting on about how he wants to destroy you, all the while you know he won't do a thing.

"What do you know about me?" the elder boy asks.

"I know you don't like loud noises, you wanna work at Borg Industries, you love animals, you love cooking, and uh...you're autistic? What's that mean exactly? I know it means something, like how ADHD means Jay can't focus, but autistic?"

Zane giggles. "This sounds less like an evil plot and more like you'd like to learn about the world around you. All it means is that...I think a little bit differently. I process information a bit differently. I am a bit more sensitive to certain things. I do not pick up on certain social cues. Also, Jay can focus-"

"No I can't!" the blue boy yells from the 'living room.'

"He can, but not like other people. His brain is also wired just a bit differently. Sometimes, people have different needs. That's all. Everyone else doesn't mind the sound of a door slamming, but I do. A lot. All we can do is be understanding, considerate, accommodating, and supportive of one another."

"You really hate the door slamming, got it," Lloyd cackles. "Thanks for the tip."

Zane smiles. "Truly evil, taking advantage of someone's sensory issues."

Lloyd frowns. "I won't do it to you. You're the nice one."

"Alright. When you take over the world, please spare me," Zane plays along.

"No promises. But I'll consider it."

Zane watches out of the corner of his eye as Lloyds sits down on the floor, playing with boxes.

He can only imagine what sort of story the kid is playing out here...honestly it's probably his plans for world conquest. That's cute.

As he returns his focus to the soup on the stove, his mind slowly drifts to last night.

Wonder if he'll get a call from Borg. Maybe a thank you. Maybe asking for tips so the law can take care of the people responsible.

Wonder if Pixal is okay.

No way she died right there...they were fast enough. 

They had to be fast enough.

"You look sad," the boy teases. "Are you sad?"

"Perhaps."

"What happened last night? Was it cool?"

Zane winces for a moment. "Ask someone else. I'm sure Kai would love to talk all about his time tied to the chair and cuss up a storm about how terrible those people were."

"I was handcuffed, thank you very much!" Kai shouts from across the room.

Lloyd tugs at the strings of his hoodie. "I already asked him. He didn't want to talk about it."

Zane sighs. "It was alright."

Lloyd raises an eyebrow. "Then why are you sad?"

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

"And why do you care?"

"...I don't think I like seeing you sad."

The scrawny boy pauses for a moment. "You care about me?"

"I care about no one."

A slight smile cracks across Zane's face. "You care about us, do you not?"

"No, I really don't."

Jay starts laughing. "You better start caring, because if we can't find your family, you're stuck with us!"

The look on Zane's face is...rather serene. "I care about all of you, perhaps I can say I found my family. Lloyd may feel the same one day."

Lloyd shakes his head. "Okay whatever, but you still didn't answer my question. What happened last night?"

Cole picks his head up. "Maybe I can tell this story."

----------

With hours lost due to sleep, night fell quickly.

Lloyd tucked himself in, staring at the teenagers.

It's...comforting, having them here, compared to last night.

"I get that you're like, vigilantes, but why? Where did the powers come from? Why do you have them?"

Zane opens his mouth the answer, but Jay interrupts with a "no clue!"

"Freak accidents, maybe?" Cole snickers. "I mean, I doubt it. But I don't know."

Zane gives a small hum. "I once tried doing some research into the topic...quite frankly, I still have no answers. But one story I stumbled upon fascinates me..."

All eyes are on him, eager to hear it.

"There was once a princess with terrible powers. Her touch was as cold as ice. And it scared her. Then one day, she discovered that her trusted bodyguard had similar powers- his touch could burn anything. And together, they snuck away nightly to battle a man as hard as stone, who was sent out by an evil ruler."

Silence.

Silence

silence

"What comes next?" Nya whispers.

"I am admittedly unsure. I don't remember how the story ended. But I wonder...with fables even older than this one....and rumors as recent as the last twenty years...all about people with powers...this isn't a fairytale, is it? 'Legend has it,' everyone says...this legend is truth, isn't it? But then this raises a question...how do we fit into all of this? What is the point of all of this?"

"I wanna know how it ends," Lloyd murmurs.

Zane readjusts Lloyd's blanket. "I'll look it up and tell you later, alright?"

Lloyd nods, closing his eyes.

"Maybe it was all a coincidence. A freak accident," Jay suggests. "I mean, I've been shocked a lot in the last few years. Kai, you were a blacksmith, right? And Cole and Zane? Uhhhh"

"I don't recall ever being buried in rocks," Cole snickers in response.

"I think we can rule out freak accidents," Kai laughs. "Maybe it's genetic? I mean, right, my parents were blacksmiths, makes sense if they had fire powers to help them. Whichever one had the powers realized 'hey, I can melt metal and that makes me really good at this, sweet' then they made it the family business."

Nya leans forward. "Then how come I don't have any?"

"Sexism."

"It's possible, but I don't see it. My mom was so sick and frail for so long...can't imagine her moving rocks," Cole mumbles, practically hugging himself.

All eyes are on him now.

Zane and Jay both reach out to comfort him.

He said too much about his home life before this, didn't he?

Shaking his head, he almost laughs. "And no way it could've been my dad, he's nothing like me, so dainty and delicate, I really can't see it."

The room is silent for a moment.

Cole needs a way out...

"Zane! What about you?"

Zane taps a finger to his chin. "I suppose it's not impossible...I don't know much about my parents...anything before age sixteen is blank and I have been on my own ever since..."

The icy boy is met with shocked stares and slack jaws.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

Why are they looking at him like that?

"How long's it been?" Kai asks quietly.

Zane does the math for a moment. "I'm eighteen so...two years? Two and a half?"

"And you never thought to bring this up?!" Jay shrieks.

"No? When would this have been relevant?"

"You've been living here for two months!"

Cole slaps a hand over Jay's mouth. "I think what he means is 'you should've told us sooner.'"

Jay tears Cole's hand away. "Yeah. That."

"You can talk to us. We're here for you."

"Yeah. Totally."

"I still don't see what I said wrong," Zane says under his breath. He claps his hands together. "Moving on."

Jay seems slightly deterred from speaking, considering what Cole and Zane just said back to back.

With a nervous smile, he starts. "Can't be my parents. They're sweet and old and I can't see them going on adventures."

"Honestly, I doubt it could be your parents," Zane says, completely deadpan.

"Wow, thanks." The sarcasm in Jay's voice is thick.

"You're welcome. Anyways, assuming that only one bloodline has lightning...rumor has it that Cliff Gordon's fifth wife, Libby Gordon, was prone to...strange occurrences. Paparazzi rarely got her on film, as she would often get upset and the cameras would spontaneously short-circuit. Then after their divorce, Cliff Gordon was seen sporting a long Lichtenberg scar across his chest. From a falling out, perhaps?"

"Lichtenberg scar?"

Zane takes Jay's arm and rolls up his sleeve, showing off the branches of scars from being electrocuted.

"These."

"Oh. Those."

"Are you by chance related to Libby Gordon?"

Jay rolls his sleeve back down and crosses his arms. "I wish. Would mean I wouldn't have grown up in a junkyard."

Zane nods. "Then this isn't even considering the possibility of multiple families having specific powers or perhaps that it can skip a generation or the chance that maybe some of us are adopted or that maybe multiple can have one power at the same time or-"

He has to force himself to take a deep breath.

Okay.

"So we've ruled out freak accidents. I suppose we can rule out genetics for now. Could it simply be random chance?"

Nya leans back. "Makes sense. Explains why Kai has powers but I don't."

Kai lies down. "Telling you, it's sexism."

She rolls her eyes. "Sure."

Cole yawns. "Whatever it is, we have these powers now. Maybe we don't have to worry about the past, so long as we do what's right."

"Think it's possible to, I dunno, use them better?" Jay asks. "Like I love what I can do, but also, I get tired of having to carry around batteries to use my powers. Y'know?"

Zane chuckles. "You think that's bad? I'm always carrying around a backpack full of ice. It is terribly inconvenient."

"I wonder if people look at me weird for picking up random rocks," Cole ponders quietly.

Kai laughs. "Joke's on all of you, I get to have a lighter to help with my powers. Normal shit."

Nya looks around.

Maybe she's feeling just a little left out.

"Ugh, I have to bring the crowbar back to work tomorrow," she chuckles.

Silence.

The quiet turns from an air of uncertainty and not knowing how to respond, to simply enjoying one another's presence.

"You think it's funny how we ended up here?" Cole mumbles. "The odds that we found each other..."

"Perhaps it was destiny," Zane states.

"Yeah, explains the first thing you said to me and Cole," Jay giggles.

"What? I am fairly certain I had seen the two of you in a dream before that."

"Still super creepy to say to strangers."

"If it was destiny, why?" Kai asks. "Why us, what do we need to do together?"

"Pitch in together to pay for an apartment, clearly," Nya scoffs. "Do you think I fit anywhere in this 'magical destiny?'"

Cole shrugs. "If you do, what about Lloyd? Maybe we all fit into some sort of destiny...or none of us."

Zane starts laying down for the night, carefully pulling a blanket over himself.

Maybe it's just because they had spent the entirety of this very short day together, especially after last night, but the room felt extra warm and cozy and safe.

"Whatever the reason, I am glad to be here with all of you, dear friends."

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

Lloyd watches everyone get ready for work.

Jay got up the earliest. He doesn't have work, he has job interviews.

He noticeably made an effort to stay away from the toaster when making breakfast.

Okay, that's probably a sign that he's stressed.

When he left, he made an active effort to gently close the door.

Kai was shooed away from anything hot by Nya.

"But what about the waffles we got on clearance?" he pouts.

Nya pops them in the toaster for him.

"I used to cook for you," he mutters, crossing his arms.

She grabs a paper plate. "That was before you developed the ability to burn things to a crisp. Get it under control and maybe I'll let you use the appliances again."

Zane watches as the siblings bicker.

Something about this situation makes him smile, knowing he's the only one who can use all the appliances at all times and he knows how to cook properly. He's just a little smug. Just a bit.

Kai catches sight of that face. "What are you smiling at, frosty?"

Zane shrugs, holding up a piece of toast. "Bread is good?"

Yeah, he's not gonna just say that he's smug.

The moment the waffles pop out, Kai snatches them up, immediately taking a chunk out of one.

"Hey, can't you at least let them cool down?" Nya scoffs.

He shrugs. "Heat resistance. I don't need to wait."

Nya starts pushing Kai closer to the door.

He throws the door open, waffles still in one hand.

Zane frowns just a little bit once Kai is out the door, slightly bothered by the way the door is closed so aggressively.

This is routine, in a way.

Jay running out in the morning. Sometimes he can use the toaster and microwave, other times, he avoids them like the plague.

Kai attempting to make breakfast.

Nya having to get on Kai's ass in some way about breakfast.

Zane eating his food relatively peacefully.

Kai disregarding things that bother Zane.

It makes Lloyd feel...something.

Fuck.

Does he actually care about these people?

Fuckfuckfuck noooooo they're just supposed to give him free food

All the information that he has is for evil deeds...not because he cares for them.

Zane was the last one out the door, the gentle click of the door slowly closing being a sign that the day truly began. At least for the ones outside of the house, now.

Lloyd glances over at Cole, who's still sound asleep.

...he should wake him up.

Just to be a nuisance. Right.

Right?

"Hey, I think you're late for work," Lloyd whispers.

No response.

He gives Cole's arm a little smack. "Hey, wake the fuck up, you're late for work!"

Cole swats him away. "I don't have work today."

"But you called out yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yeah, and someone needs to watch you. Now-" Cole starts to yawn- "let me sleep. You can go back to sleep too."

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

"I thought Zane told you to stop feeding her potato chips," Cole sighs, watching as Lloyd feeds his pet.

"She seems to like them."

Cole shakes his head and picks the animal up.

"I can't believe we're just...keeping this thing."

It stares at him.

Staring.

...he can kinda see what Jay meant by "uncanny eyes" when he was ranting about how they couldn't get rid of it.

"You say that like you weren't the one who named her."

"Yeah...I dunno, she just seems like an Ash. Look at her."

"I don't see it but okay. Can I have my pet back?"

Cole drops the snake in Lloyd's hand.

Well, he tried.

It brushed against Lloyd's palm, before deciding to retreat to Cole's arm.

"Can I at least pet her?" Lloyd begs.

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

Nya took the crowbar back.

Everything's fine, she was welcomed back with open arms.

She's safe, that's all that mattered.

The current project in her garage was a vintage car.

She could just die looking at it. It was perfect.

...on the outside.

On the inside, it was long since neglected.

This is gonna be fun.

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

Jay waits in a small office.

He said no more retail jobs.

So he took a job stocking shelves...what can he say? He's probably best at retail.

It'll be fine so long as he doesn't need to be around computers.

He should start wearing rubber gloves or something, thinking on it...

Why hasn't he considered that before?

Bzzzzt

Bzzt

...it won't make for a bad impression if he checks his phone real quick while waiting, right?

It's a text from Kai. An image.

Open it.

Kai standing in front of the gas station.

Scroll up.

'look who just got fired

fiyaaahed

u need to say it like that'

Jay presses his lips together.

Okay, why is Kai texting him and not Cole or Zane?

Wait.

It's the group chat.

That explains it.

Cole is typing.

Cole stops typing.

Typing again.

'WHAT

WHAT HAPPENED'

Kai is typing.

Screw it, let's check Chirp while they're busy with that. Phone's already unlocked.

Oh FSM, Kai posted the same selfie he just sent all of them.

Fugidove42069 left a reply on it.

Sad face emoji

Huh. He has a lot of notifications. He only has like, ten followers plus Kai on here...

Fugidove42069 left a reply.

Fugidove42069 left a reply

fugidove42069 left a reply

Oh god, it just keeps going, it's like this guy took the time to respond to everything he ever posted.

Hold on. Where's Kai's pic again?

There it is.

Okay, let's look at Kai's profile.

...same thing, checking the replies.

On every single one, Fugidove42069 is there.

It's tempting to keep digging. It really is.

The interview should start any moment though.

Just put the phone on silent for now and wait.

And wait.

And. Wait.

Screw it, the interviewer is ten minutes late, he wants to investigate this Fugidove guy some more.

He turns his phone back on, immediately going back to Chirp.

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

Cole stares at his phone, silently fuming.

Two of them are out of jobs!

No way this can have a good outcome. Sure, they were able to survive when it was just himself, Zane, and Jay, but they also didn't have as many mouths to feed.

His eyebrows are heavy.

This isn't Kai's fault, okay. It's not his fault that his boss had no sympathy for him being kidnapped.

But gahhh.

The snake presses itself against his arm as if it were trying to nuzzle him.

"What are you, a cat?" he mumbles, trying to shake the animal away.

The small serpent rests its head on his leg.

It gets his attention for a brief moment. "That doesn't seem normal," he mutters in response.

"So what are your weaknesses?" Lloyd asks, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Daddy issues, dead mom, fear of dancing...what else?"

"I don't know, I don't care, that's not important right now."

Cole is completely focused on the text conversation.

Even Zane seemed to have taken a break to respond.

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

Zane quietly put his phone down on the counter.

Back to the grill.

He's not a fan of the other cashier. He's kind of aloof. Cold. He doesn't seem to get it.

Whenever he gets on his phone, he drops it on the counter when he's done with it.

Zane doesn't mind loud noises. If that were the case, he probably couldn't take this job. He expects certain sounds in this environment. But abrupt noises are awful and always seem to interrupt his train of thought just a bit, overwhelming whatever else is at hand. He expects Kai to respect his boundaries and close the door quietly, yet that never happens. He's not sure why he's still surprised.

Likewise, this cashier doesn't get it when he asks him to not drop things on the counter like that.

He's pretty sure he's doing it on purpose, at this point, with the way it seems to get increasingly louder and more pronounced every time.

He's almost given up trying to talk to this guy.

He doesn't want to pick up any extra shifts unless Cole can be around for most of it, at this point.

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

"You're not nice like Zane, or easy to freak out like Jay, and you don't give me cartoons like Nya, come on, entertain meee," Lloyd groans in boredom.

Cole takes a deep breath.

He gets up and walks over to the counter. The snake trails on Cole's heels like a lost puppy. 

"Want fun? Tell you what, make yourself lunch and I'll help you make a toy out of the Ramen Helper box or something."

Lloyd angrily groans. "I don't know how to use the stove."

Cole's eyes don't leave his phone. "Don't lie to me, I've seen you use the stove."

"...fu-u-uuuuuuuuuuck yooooouuuuuuu."

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

Nya met the owner of the vintage car.

A rich woman, though she seemed sweet.

Apparently, the car was a family heirloom of sorts. When she received it, she could see that it didn't work.

The woman was admittedly very pretty.

Nya couldn't help but blush just a little as her handiwork was complimented.

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

"Can you at least tell me what happened between you and Jay?" Lloyd asks.

Screw manipulation or blackmail or whatever at this point, he really just wants to know. The curiosity is getting to him.

"Hm?"

The small boy stirs the pot. "Jay said you two 'almost' dated. Why was it almost?"

Cole laughs. "We didn't. I'm not gonna tell the story out of respect for him, but I have no problems. It really isn't as embarrassing as he keeps saying. He blew it out of proportion."

Lloyd sighs.

"You keep saying you're evil. I think you're just nosey," Cole mumbles, texting Kai once more.

"I want to know so I can use that information to destroy your friendship with him!"

"But...we already know what happened between us. Our friendship is fine. Thick as thieves or whatever."

Lloyd starts stabbing the pot of noodles with the stirring spoon.

"Don't do that, utensils are expensive."

Lloyd turns off the burner.

Ever so carefully, he strains the noodles over the sink.

His tiny hand reaches into the pot, grabbing a single noodle.

He dangles a noodle over a danger noodle.

The snake snatches it up eagerly.

Cole sighs and puts down his phone. "Kai's on his way home. If you want, I can serve the food, I think I need a break from my phone."

Lloyd hands him the pot.

"Wanna tell me a little bit about yourself?" Cole asks gently as he spoons the noodles onto paper plates. "You keep prodding us for info, what about you? I remember when we found you, you said something about the foster system. I've never been in it but I know it can be...rough. Wanna talk about it?"

Oh yeah. He did say that.

"Yeah...it was bad. My foster parents ummm, made me make weird videos full of clickbait and fake fights. Also, they tried to blow me up. And they shot me. With paintballs, so it hurt but there's no scars."

The teen wasn't impressed by the boy's story, much less the delivery. He could tell it was a lie.

Still, let's play along.

"Mkay. What were their names?"

"Jane D'Onoh. And John Billie-ee."

Cole puts the pot on the stove. 

He holds out his arms.

"That's so sad. Come here."

Lloyd looks up at him for a moment.

This guy seriously wants a hug?

Slowly, he walks into the hug.

The hug is safe.

Then that lasts for all of two seconds before Cole picks up his hand.

Lloyd's mop of messy blonde hair is met with a light noogie.

"Stop, stop, okay, I lied! I was never in the foster system!" Lloyd shouts.

Is this what it's like? Having...something. Parental figures? Older brother figures?

Why is Lloyd laughing? This is humiliating, evil shouldn't laugh like this.

Cole lets go, laughing himself.

He grabs his plate of ramen.

"Okay, seriously, what's the deal with you?"

Lloyd goes quiet, grabbing his food instead.

Cole slouches slightly, trying to get somewhere (nowhere near) close to eye level with the kid. "Come on, why don't you want to go home? At least go to a friend? Some sort of family member?"

Just pretend you didn't hear that. Look for something, look for- oh hey, the Ramen Helper box.

"You ever wonder why there's little cutout guys on the back of these?"

Cole wants to try putting the subject back on track, but he can see something in Lloyd's eyes.

Sure. He can answer this.

"I think it's because those are meant for only two demographics: little kids who just like that stuff, and college kids who can barely scrape by and need a little joy in their life after eating shitty ramen for the third time in a day."

Barely scraping by...

Is that them? That's gotta be them, considering how stressed Cole seemed after getting Kai's initial text.

Lloyd holds up the box. "Do you want the cutout guy?"

That earned a pat on the head.

Soft eyes look down at him. This seems to be the calmest Cole's been all day. "No, he's yours. Okay?"

"I'm gonna use him for evil deeds, you just made a big mistake!"

"Okay. Go ahead."

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

Zane seemed visibly tired and annoyed when he came home.

Kai seemed smug, bragging about how wild it was that he got fired over The Incident.

Jay seemed anxious.

Nya...she seemed to have it somewhat together, in a business-like manner, ready to discuss what now.

"'Kay, so, do we have any backups?" Cole asks. "It can be apartments or, worst case scenario, some of us have to go back home. I'll go first, I'm not going to live with my dad, too much bad blood, but I did find a cheap apartment across town."

Kai shrugs. "I've been looking for new jobs, nothing on the apartments. We could all try squeezing into the old house in Ignacia? We lived off of well water but it wasn't terrible out there."

"I'm not going back there," Nya scowls. "I like the city way better."

"I have nothing. I wandered the continent of Ninjago before encountering all of you." Zane places his hands on his lap. "Also, I don't think I want to leave my family."

"Okay, let's try to stay together for Zane's sake," Jay coos.

Yeah. Only Zane's sake. Totally. Zane didn't just say what everyone was already thinking...

"I haven't looked into apartments, but we could try my parents. I don't really want to go back to the junkyard but it's close enough to the city, we have filtered water, electricity, and wifi, so...eh? Maybe?"

Cole looks around. "There's a chance we would have to split up though..."

"With all the shit we've been encountering? Really? Split up?" Kai scoffs.

"Let us not forget about Lloyd. If we were to split up, who would take him?" Zane asks.

"Orphanage?" Jay suggests.

"Yeah, because orphanages are known for being safe places," Nya deflects sarcastically. "Plus, I mean...can we get rid of him? Look at him. He's one of us."

The small boy is part of the circle even though he contributes nothing.

Kai sighs. "No. I don't think I can bear to get rid of the little shit."

Lloyd offers the firey teen a middle finger.

"But is this even a safe environment for him?" Cole asks.

"I'm evil, I thrive in chaos!" Lloyd puts on a fake villainous laugh.

"I believe we are marginally safer than the alternatives, considering that we have no information on him," Zane points out.

Kai gives a small snicker. "So we're stuck together?"

Cole takes in each face. The worried, the hopeful, the tired, the curious, the confused.

"I think we are. No matter what, we'll always be together."

Cole puts out his fist.

Jay was the first one to meet him in the middle. He didn't have to consider it.

Then Nya. She knows what she wants.

Zane hesitantly closes his fist and puts it in the center, although he seems more concerned about doing the gesture right than if he'll stay. He knows where he stands on the subject.

Kai admittedly has to think on it for a moment...yeah, fist in the center, he's at the very least not leaving his sister.

Lloyd was the last one to join in. He was hesitant, but this beats living on the street. He has a roof over his head and food in his stomach...and people who care about him...oh! And a pet snake! Yeah, he's not giving this up.

Cole nods. "So, all agreed? Sticking together no matter what comes our way?"

Nodding and small words of agreement come from all around him.

No matter what, they can't be split up.

That's a promise.

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

Pixal opens her eyes for the first time in days.

She's immediately met by her dad's smiling face.

She has little time to process consciousness, her feet barely hitting the ground, before being pulled into a hug.

"I made sure to put a tracking chip inside of you this time. Oh, and I improved the camera in your eyes and-"

"Dad, slow down. I just woke up."

The chipper man lets go of her, letting her stand up. "Are you hungry? Would you like a sandwich?"

She shakes her head, giving a small grunt. "In a little bit."

She begins to stretch, breaking in this new body.

It's just about identical to the old one...except...

"What do you mean you put a tracking chip in me this time? You did not consider this before?"

"I wanted to give you free will. I didn't feel the need to track your every movement. Quite frankly, if your life wasn't in constant danger, I still wouldn't feel the need to do that."

She looks down at her wheelchair-bound father.

It was a sweet sentiment, even if misguided.

Scatterbrained. For a man so intelligent, he's always overlooking these things.

"Thank you. What of Mister Mechanic?"

"Oh! He's been terminated from his position. He is currently under investigation for theft and sale of illegal arms, and he is not allowed within seventy feet of you."

That's...nice(?) to hear.

"Oh! And I went through your memories. I saw everything that you saw that day."

"You never thought to do that before?"

"I wanted to give you privacy, my child. Anyways, one of the young fellows who saved you left their number. I have not contacted him, but if you would like to say thanks, you're welcome to."

She can remember the vaguest feeling of seeing things once her head was ripped off. At that point, she was incapable of registering many things, but her eyes were still going, cameras still recording.

...a boy cried over her? A random stranger, she was worth crying for? And he seemed familiar too...

"On your phone? The emergency phone? Where?"

"You can use the emergency phone."

"...I think I want to thank him another way."

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

"Cole, what is your opinion on the other fry cook?" Zane asks as he wipes down a counter.

Cole counts money, looking for something to do on this slow day. "He's okay. Dunno. He's not you. Why?"

"Just wondering. The other cashier is..." he actually really wants to use an obscene word, but they're on the clock. "...very unpleasant."

Cole nods. "How so?"

"He doesn't respect my boundaries and I'm beginning to suspect that he does certain things on purpose."

Cole turns his back to the counter, taking a good look at his roommate. "Don't let him get to you. He takes time out of his day to bother you, that's a problem with his sad life."

"...I appreciate the sentiment, but it still bothers me."

The bell on the door rings.

A woman holds open the door for a man in a wheelchair.

Cole and Zane both stare, wide-eyed.

It's Cyrus and Pixal Borg...

"Hi, what would you like to order?" Cole asks, almost rendered breathless.

The woman holds out her hand for a handshake. "I'd like to talk...and maybe say thank you for the other night."

Zane is frozen.

She was just a head the last time he saw her...she remembered?!

"Only the two of you? Weren't there five?" Cyrus asks.

"Y-yes, we're the only two who work together."

"One of the other ones was at a gas station," she follows up.

Cole gives a little laugh. "Yeah, actually, Kai got fired from his job. He's at home."

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

"I hate you, I fucking hate you," Lloyd pouts, staring into the small bathroom mirror.

"Listen, I know how to cut hair, you just kept moving too much," Kai mumbles, leaning in the doorway.

Lloyd's messy hair had been trimmed into a lopsided bowl cut.

"For this, you coulda just taken the clippers to my head and shaved it all off."

"It's fine, it's not like you ever leave the house. It'll grow out."

"Then why did it matter that I got a haircut in the first place?!"

"Because it looked bad already. When was the last time you had a haircut?"

Oh. The child is pissed.

Kai finds himself having to hold out a hand, keeping Lloyd at bay by the forehead as he tries punching the older boy wherever he can land a hit.

There's something nostalgic about this. Lloyd isn't too far off from how Nya would behave at times when she was younger, when the two siblings truly got into it and found themselves shouting at one another.

"It's just hair. You wanna know how many times I've given me and Nya bad haircuts?"

Moments later, he feels a whole set of teeth in his arm.

"What the fuck!" Kai yelps, pulling his arm away from the child's jaw.

"My dad was a demon, come on, come fuck with me, fuck around and find out motherfucker-"

Kai stares down boredly at the boy, who feels the need to throw an f-bomb in between every other word.

Honestly, it's kinda funny.

"...and I have fucking demon powers, come on, what are you scared of, scared I'll fuck you up? Come on, get fu-"

He cringes as Kai starts patting the top of his head.

"Listen, I'm sorry. If you want, you can go get a waffle. Yeah?"

"It doesn't feel like a reward if I have to make it myself."

"You can have no waffle."

"...fucking fine."

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

Jay's trying a comic book shop. It's still retail, sure, but maybe he can be more relaxed there.

This is probably the most casual outfit he's worn to an interview.

Khaki pants, a blue hoodie, and a black shirt that states:

"AND THEN HE SAID IT'S 'GLINCHING TIME'

AND HE GLINCHED ALL OVER THEM"

...dead memes and obscure failed toylines mashed together are funny, right? Right?

Ugh this shirt was an impulse buy a few months ago.

He thought it was funny at the time, okay? He wasn't paying attention to the shirt he grabbed this morning...

"Nice shirt," someone says.

His head darts up.

Someone actually likes this shirt?!

...

...

...it's the store owner?!

The previous time he'd come here as a customer, the man had asked to be known by only one name: Mother Doomsday.

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

If Zane was a more excitable person, he would be bouncing off the walls right now.

Instead, he listens with a big smile.

He's never been tech-savvy, but Borg Industries always fascinated him. It made him want to learn about technology and the world around them.

Can he get a job on the creative side of the company? No. He doesn't know enough to do that, and to teach him somewhat defeats the purpose of hiring him. It's a cutthroat place meant for those who know what they're doing.

Yet here he is being offered a job.

As a bodyguard, sure, but damn if his eyes aren't sparkling at the opportunity.

He doesn't like being a violent person. A little petty from time to time, sure. And sometimes he's blunt on purpose just to mess with people for a joke. But violence?

"How much does it pay?" Cole asks.

Cyrus Borg punches some numbers into his phone.

He flashes a total at the boys.

Yeah no, they're jumping onto this opportunity.

It can't be that violent, right?

All Zane has to do is stand next to Pixal and look menacing.

They need to talk this out with the others but the prospect is exciting.

"Moving on from that, I must ask. Do you have any further information on the people who harmed my daughter?" the man asks.

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

The apartment has only one window.

So when a bird slammed into it, that obviously got everyone's attention.

The snake that had been coiled up on the windowsill hisses aggressively.

Lloyd's eyes glitter. "Cool. I wanna see that again!"

"How about no?" Kai mumbles. "Not cool. There's probably a dead bird out there now then no one's gonna pick it up then next thing you know we have an ant problem. Maybe a cat will get it, but it's a fifty-fifty."

"Then you go pick it up."

"No."

Then another bird hits the window.

And another.

They stare.

Kai stands up, brushing himself off. "Lloyd, throw on your hoodie, cover up your bad haircut, and go poke the birds with a stick."

"No."

"I'll go with you."

"Still no."

"You can watch cartoons on my phone."

Lloyd walks over to the "closet" (a box of clothes) and grabs his black hoodie.

He's already at the door before Kai can even get his shoes on.

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

They didn't have a lot of info to give, but there were a few things the Borgs were unaware of. In particular, that Ultra Violet and Killow seemed to have been part of a biker gang.

They went back to work, and the father and daughter went back home.

The job offer made Zane feel all warm and fuzzy. He couldn't stop smiling.

"So, we're taking it, yeah?" Cole asks.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno, it might be stressful."

Zane places a hand on Cole's shoulder. "Friend, I understand that more than anyone else, but it's been a lifelong dream-"

"I thought you couldn't remember anything before two years ago."

"A two-year-long dream. Plus, I must protect those who cannot protect themselves. By doing this, we can offer information on the strange encounters we have. We do not have to keep it secret anymore!"

"That's true...and the pay looks good."

"The pay is phenomenal. If that is our hourly rate, we may get to stop eating ramen daily. We can stop stressing about Kai and Jay!"

Cole nods. "So, we're convincing the others to get on board with this?"

To Cole, Zane seems a bit blind-sighted. What he's saying makes sense, but it's unlike him to blindly look at only the good.

He can't crush his friend's dreams like that. Look at that smile. 

And...yeah, the pay is good.

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

"I haven't felt the outside in months," Lloyd says, forcing his voice to sound hoarse and dying.

"It's only been like, two weeks."

"Monthssss."

Kai looks up at one of the trees put there just to make the apartments look nice.

It desperately needs pruning.

He jumps up and pulls a small branch off of it.

Hand it to Lloyd.

Lloyd tiptoes up to a pile of feathers.

Yup, that's three birds alright.

Just poke them. It's fine.

Poking at dead things is a normal kid thing to do, isn't it? Especially for problem children.

Be a problem child.

Be evil.

After a solid moment of hesitation, the stick makes contact with one of the birds.

The bird cocks its head up and mouths at the stick.

Then the other two start moving.

Lloyd starts backing away.

Kai scoops him up and starts running back to their door.

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

Cole goes through the door first. He stands there as if he's waiting to make an announcement.

Zane steps through after him.

Cole puts his arms out, as if to say behold. "Look who got a girl's number today," he teases.

"There's no way Zane's getting bitches before I do," Kai scoffs.

Zane furrows his brows for a moment.

That was more than a little insulting.

He's gonna choose peace here. Let it slide. Let it slide.

He shakes his head. "We got a job offer. Also, there are a lot of birds outside."

Jay stands in the kitchen, leaning back on the counter as he eats a granola bar. "I mean...I got good news too. I got a new job on the spot. Also, someone liked my shirt."

Cole turns his attention to his blue friend.

"I thought I told you not to buy that."

"It was an impulse purchase, okay!"

Nya's checking the appliances to make sure Kai didn't do anything with them today. She takes a moment to glance at the shirt in question.

"I don't know what any of that means, but I don't see the issue?"

Jay's smile grows wide. "Want me to explain it to you?"

"I wouldn't mind that."

He grabs her hand and opens his mouth, ready to share his nerdy knowledge with her.

It's cute, how happy he is.

"We have a job offer to act as security and/or bodyguards for Borg Tower," Zane interrupts.

Cole pulls out his phone. "And check out what they're offering for pay!"

He shows everyone the number one by one.

Nya had to do a serious double take, letting go of Jay's hand just to hold Cole's phone. "This isn't a typo? You're sure there isn't a zero too many here?"

Cole nods.

Zane claps his hands together. "The offer is up to all of us. Except for Lloyd, of course."

"Can I do part-time?" Jay asks. "I really liked the comic book shop."

Zane nudges Nya out of the way and starts up the burner. "You would have to inquire about that. I can offer you Cyrus Borg's number."

There's a thud against the window.

Kai angrily sighs. "I don't know why birds keep-"

His eyes are the size of saucers.

The window view is nothing but feathers.

Lloyd picks up the Ramen Helper box that houses Ash.

The small creature pops its head out of the box in confusion.

Nya grabs Zane by the arm. "You're good with animals, right?"

Zane slowly nods.

"So what's that?"

"I do not think I can do anything about that."

The glass of the window cracks.

Cole pats his pocket, making sure he has a rock in there.

Nya and Jay help Zane pile ice cubes into the backpack.

Jay pauses to make sure he has batteries in his pocket.

Okay, he does.

Within moments, the glass shatters.

Jay was the first one to make it to the door, throwing it open with great speed, making his way out of the apartment.

Cole picks Lloyd up with zero hesitation.

Kai dragged Nya out, even though she insisted on finding some sort of weapon.

Zane was the last one out, searching for the largest knife to give to Nya.

It took a moment, long enough for the others to be concerned.

The rest of the small found family stop outside of the complex, just waiting for Zane.

Cole rubs his temples. "This doesn't make any sense, what would cause this?"

Jay looks around.

Something catches his eye. On top of the complex.

"Cole, gimmie a boost?"

Cole raises an eyebrow.

"Trust me."

Jay ends up sitting on top of Cole's shoulders.

Then he starts shouting. "There! I see it!"

"See what?!" Kai snaps.

"It's a guy, a man, shit shit shit, someone's up there."

"Can you see who it is?" Cole grunts.

"It's...it's Bird Guy?"

"Who?"

"That one guy from the warehouse, the guy we kept forgetting about."

The man leans over the edge of the roof.

"It's Fugidove! My name is Fugidove!"

Jay's face goes pale.

He recognizes that name.

Cole lets Jay down.

They all start backing away as the birds seem to start redirecting their attention, a few of them flying out the door.

Then Zane finally comes out.

Even from afar, they can see that his clothes are torn.

But hey, at least he has a knife.

He makes his way downstairs.

Nobody is able to look away from a large injury across the left side of his face.

But there is no time to address it.

He shoves the knife into Nya's hands and starts running.

The birds are following them.

Soon, everyone is hastily making their way out of the neighborhood entirely.

"Zane, this was sweet but you didn't have to do this!" Nya yells, waving the knife around.

"But you need to be able to protect yourself. I know you can."

"Yeah but your face..."

"What about my face?"

Cole shoots Nya a glare. "Nothing, it'll probably be healed by morning. Keep running!"

Kai looks around for a hiding place. There has to be a way for them to lose the birds.

Or...looking at who's running the fastest...

"Jay, think you can mislead them? They stayed behind to attack Zane, maybe they can stay behind to attack you? Just like, slow down a bit, let the rest of us get away, then you can run."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Cole adds. "Because where would we hide? We'd lose them for a minute, then what?"

Zane reaches into the ice backpack. "What if I froze them?"

Cole considers it for a moment. "That might work."

Jay lets himself fall to the back of the group.

Zane tries staying within a few feet of the blue teen.

The birds did indeed stop for them, flying in circles.

The mass of feathers swoop down for Jay, only to fall to the ground, ice coating their feathers.

That still wasn't all of them.

Zane reaches for another ice cube.

Another flurry of ice power was released.

Oh FSM, his heart is thumping hard. It almost hurts.

He turns to look for where the others ran off to.

Lloyd waves from behind a bush.

Zane huddles up with his family.

"Okay, okay. Okay." Cole pants. "So, maybe we can stop by the convenience store and call a taxi? And just wait there."

"Where would we go?" Nya asks, still brandishing the knife. "Do we have hotel money? Not like any of us have anywhere super close by that we can crash at. Right?"

Jay raises his hand.

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

There is zero doubt that they received weird looks from the taxi driver.

They're asking to be driven out to a junkyard. There's a snake in a ramen box. There's a backpack full of ice. There's a butcher knife. There's someone with a terrible injury taking up half of his face.

Jay frantically checks his Chirp.

Fugidove42069 is still leaving replies on everything.

"I think we were doxxed," he squeaks.

Cole looks over at the phone. "How? How'd he even get our info?"

"It's not that hard if you know where to look," Nya chimes.

"I just don't get how he found me online," Jay mumbles. He doesn't even have the energy to scream over it anymore. Too much disbelief.

Kai checks his Chirp.

Then it all clicks.

"When Ultra Violet took my phone. She must've gotten our social media info."

Cole groans.

Jay starts working on deactivating his account, arguing with Kai to do the same.

Kai put his profile on private.

Once that's over with, Jay nervously calls his parents.

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

The taxi stopped a ways out from the junkyard.

"Okay, some ground rules," Jay starts. He kicks up dust with every step he takes. "Don't complain that the house is too small. Do say yes to the food. If mom offers you something knitted, please take it, I'm saying it on your behalf, it will be made with love and you will be able to feel it. Don't touch rusty nails. We don't have a rat problem, we have a snake problem, they only come out at night, just stay clear of them, that's what I've been told as long as I can remember. They're bright red, can't miss them. Don't touch my dad's AC. Do not make fun of the seashell art. Got it?"

Kai raises his hand.

"Yeah?"

"What if I don't like the seashell art?"

Cole playfully shoves Kai. "Be serious."

"What? I can already say ahead of time I won't like it," Kai snickers.

Jay stops in front of the gate.

The sign declares itself Ed and Edna's Scrap 'n Junk.

The 's' flickers on and off.

"Welcome to our home for at least the next twenty-four hours," Jay announces.

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

what if while ao3 is down i just copy paste all 36 chapters and 100k+ words of the no wu au into a tumblr post

[cheekygreenty]

Familiar - The Darkling x Reader

He was living his worst nightmare. You were in danger because of him. He swore to protect you, to get himself caught in the crossfire if it meant saving you but right now he was useless and you were suffering. He didn't know where you were or who took you from the Palace, the place he said was like a fortress, the safest place in Ravka. You were swiped from right under his nose, most likely roughly and mercilessly and it was all because you loved him.

He never wanted anyone to know of your relationship, you were his most protected and valued secret and he would put his life on the line to keep it that way. But now you were gone and he couldn't bare to look at himself. The promise he made to you was broken and he let you down.

For our love is a ghost that the others can't see

You agreed with it too, knowing that you would immediately become a target if Aleksander introduced you as his. But here you were now, sitting in the back of a moving coach, gagged and handcuffed with a blood and tear stained face.

The ride was more bumpy and painful than it was at the start, having now been on it for at least 4 hours, you knew you were far from home and heading to Fjerda.

The realization hit you as soon as you felt a pair of strong hands at your wrists, holding them apart in the safety of your chambers to prevent you from summoning. The festivities were loud and blocked out your shouts of self-defense and cries for help. That's where Aleksander's protection had run out, right there in your shared rooms.

You cursed yourself as more tears slipped out your eyes, you were a fool who didn't listen to their own advice. Ravka didn't know about you, the Darkling seemingly had no weaknesses until your irrationally tipsy behavior. Tonight's stupid actions would cost you your life.

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

'Enjoying the celebrations?' You held your fourth champagne glass of the night tightly in your hand as you walked up to Aleksander and Ivan. They were all business and no party as the Little Palace roared to life following a day of successful business negotiations. Grisha of all orders let loose and had fun, forgetting the troubles of war as foreign delegations joined in, all in unity for a single night of fun.

The Zemeni were dancing with the Kerch, the Shu were peacefully discussing with the Kaelish, it was a utopia. Your own mind was for once calm, be it the champagne or the vibes you didn't know and didn't care.

'You did a very good job Y/N, I'm impressed.' Ivan gestured to the party and pride filled you. It was stressful and nerve-racking to plan a banquet of this magnitude, but seeing it all accomplished and with no fights made you unbelievably happy.

'Thank you Ivan. Go enjoy yourself, I'm sure Fedyor is looking for you.'

He walked away just as you'd hoped, leaving you and Aleksander alone. You moved a step closer, taking his hand in yours.

'It is magnificent darling, you look magnificent too.' His head dipped as it usually did when he was about to kiss you, but he stopped himself and instead looked around the room, inspecting it to make sure no one was watching him.

'Relax, we're in a large crowd, I highly doubt anyone is paying us any mind.' With the foreign ambassadors here, Aleksander's black attire was balanced out with black tuxedos and suits. He wasn't sticking out anymore, he blended in. You wanted to be with him, and perhaps you could be right now.

'If you say so' Although your words did something to reassure him, his sweet lips were brief on yours. It was a short kiss, but he somehow conveyed his love for you in that quick second before he was back to his usual General persona.

'Alright General Kirigan, I'll go annoy Genya.' You joked and in the process knocked the glass over onto your fine silk kefta. 'Shit'

You didn't miss the look of amusement on his face as you tried to dry the stain with your sleeve. 'Or I'll go and change' you laughed, leaning into his laughing body.

You were certain the moment was intimate and private, that nobody was watching, but a pair of eyes closely watched the scene from afar, mouth open ajar as he found the Darkling's only weakness; You.

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

'Moi Soverenyi what is the meaning of all this?' Ivan didn't expect to be dragged out of bed at this hour and see the General's inner circle crowded around his war table in their nightclothes. He thought the banquet went well: nobody fought or got injured or even argued, it was the perfect night so to speak. But the powerful Grisha still dressed in his silk black kefta was restless and panicked.

His hair was disheveled and he looked ready to kill as he stood with his back to everyone, facing the big map of Ravka. The room was silent save for a few yawns and sighs. Nobody knew anything about why they were there but the tension surrounding their commander was hostile and frightening.

'Y/N Y/L/N is missing from Palace grounds. I think she may have been taken.' Ivan stilled, he was the only person in the room who knew of the relationship between his General and you and had grown to like your refreshing presence. He cared for you in a brotherly way and your disappearance ignited a fury in him.

'I need you searching the streets, interrogating the delegates, anything we can to bring her back.' His face was still turned away from them, and Ivan knew he wouldn't turn around.

Aleksander was beside himself with worry and guilt, he was on the verge of tears. You were gone and it was his fault. His mind was swirling with the accusations and the self-hate, but also with memories of you. Your life echoed around the walls of his head, bouncing off of his heart with a shatter.

He wasn't going to wake up tomorrow next to you curled up in his arms. He wasn't going to hear you rant over breakfast. You were gone and it was his fault.

He was trying so hard to devise a plan to find you, to command his Grisha and be a General, but in that moment he was just Aleksander, Y/N's Aleksander. Worry took up his mind and all the commanding bones in his body yearned to have you next to him.

He turned his head briefly to Ivan, who had the same expression on his face that Genya wore when he woke her up searching for Y/N. She was already out in the streets of Os Alta with David, trying their luck with tracking your jewelry.

'We leave in 10 minutes. Every single Grisha in the Second Army will be used if need be.' If you listened closely, you could hear the edge to his voice, a slight pang of heartbreak and anguish. He was trying to hide it, but alas he was only a man.

The Grisha started muttering amongst themselves and Ivan caught a few words of their conversations and couldn't help but let the rage rise in him 'She's not even that good of a soldier.....' 'Who is that?' 'I want to go back to bed....'

'A foreign dignitary had the audacity to kidnap a Grisha after we let them into our home and you speak of going to bed?'

'Ivan.' Fedyor warned him.

'Moi Soverenyi, with all due respect, Y/L/N was simply a teacher to the younger Grisha, not a high-ranking soldier with valuable intel. Should we really assume a kidnapping happened? For all we know it was desertion. Y/N found a good moment to slip out and escaped.'

Every shade of us you fade down to keep

Them in the dark on who we are

The second those words were spoken by Polina, Aleksander's black shadows let loose. They crept up her legs and around her throat, tightening and tightening until air could no longer enter the inferni's lungs. She was petrified, she was simply stating another perspective on the situation but her General's and Ivan's responses told her her opinion was not wanted at all.

Aleksander stopped himself before he killed her. It was his fault, all of it. His Grisha didn't take this seriously because they didn't know who Y/N truly was to him, perhaps a secret ready to be shared, spoke a voice deep in the back of his head, not your voice though. He wouldn't tell anyone anything until he had your approval. If he ever got it.

'Believe me, Y/N was no deserter.'

'10 minutes!' Barked Ivan at the Grisha when none of them moved from their tired trance.

-----

You didn't know Fjerdan fluently but you knew enough to make out the most important words 'We crossed the border', 'Witch', 'let her burn'. It was enough to drown your hope of escaping and coming home to Aleksander and your Grisha.

You never got involved in any war or fighting, simply choosing to teach the young students the basics of summoning. It made you content and happy, whereas war made you anxious and nervous. Your body had only ever known the luxuries of the Little Palace, the feel of a pen or book in your hands. To add to it, your powers were never used in a defensive way only summoned when you taught, so this was a drastic turn of events to say the least.

Being dragged and beaten by the Fjerdans, insulted in a foreign language, and cuffed so the one comfort you had available to you was useless, brought you to your knees despite the initial training you received when you joined the Second-Army. I am no soldier, I am a teacher.

The border had been crossed and you were officially a Fjerdan captive, ready to sit a trail where you would be found guilty and hanged for your gifts. The chances of Aleksander finding you were slim to none as you tried to remember if any clues were left behind at the scene of your kidnapping. The Fjerdans were quick and concise, neat and skilled, leaving no traces of their presence in your chambers.

The back of the carriage yanked open and let in the evening sun, blinding you in the process. You stopped counting the time after the 8th hour passed and your space was still pitch black. The shadows once were a comfort, now they were simply a tool to frighten you even more.

'Let's go, Witch.' A tall man spoke as he grabbed you by the arm, dragging you as if you didn't weigh anything. You complied, not seeing a reason to tire yourself by fighting back. It was pointless and futile.

You were in the middle of nowhere, a field of open green space with patches of snow. Fjerda. You'd never been anywhere near the border even, but the cold wind was whiplash-inducing just as Aleksander once described it.

'I thought I am to face trial.' You had barely spoken a word in fear in the carriage but the suspicion had rousted you to mutter the words.

'You? I'd rather kill you right here' joked the man and his companions laughed along as if what you said was the beginnings of a hilarious joke. 'You are the Demon's vulnerability, we hurt him for revenge' He pushed you to your knees roughly.

This love is gonna be the death of me

It's a danger

'So I am to die in a field?'

'Not before you tell us everything about the Darkling' then a kick to your stomach shut down your senses.

-------

'We are crossing into Fjerda Moi Soverenyi' Ivan shouted over the galloping horses. Not even 2 minutes after the meeting, Fedyor noticed 3 Fjerdan delegates missing from their rooms in the Little Palace and raced to tell his General who was now fiercely riding his black stallion with a fury no one dared to comment on. He had Squallers feeling the air for you, Durasts tracking your jewelry, and Heartrenderers listening to heartbeats as they all made their way up to Fjerda, the enemy country.

As time passed, the fear rose and turned into a strange combination of denial and grief. Aleksander tried to desperately shoo it away, to rid the thought as it came. You were alive. You had to be.

He felt his crew getting restless and tired but he didn't dare slow his pace. His stallion seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and for lack of a better word, legged it as his master requested.

'General, we think we can feel something.' The Durast and Squaller riding right behind him suddenly burst out. 'About 5 miles northeast, I can direct us from there.' The man in the purple kefta bellowed and Aleksander's heart picked up the pace to a deadly rhythm. He was immortal, but he was sure this was going to be the death of him.

---------

It took every ounce of courage and pride to not give in but you hurt all over. Your ribs were cracked, lungs quickly collapsing, your arms and legs unmoving. The only aspect of you that looked normal was your face

'I'll leave it, let him see you dead in a coffin with only your pretty face as a reminder of how disgusting he is, how disgusting all of you are.'

You had told them nothing, not a word, not even a cry of pain to satisfy them. If these were truly your last moments, you wouldn't go down as a traitor. Your eyes closed on their own accord a while ago, your ears stopped listening when you heard the first bone crack in your leg.

You didn't see Aleksander's shadows flood the field, cutting down everything in his path. You didn’t hear the Fjerdans scream out in pain and fear. There was blood everywhere, not just yours as he ran to you.

'HEALERS NOW' you didn't see him, you didn't hear him, but he saw you beaten and dying right in front of him. His hands traced the side of your face lovingly as a small tear escaped his eye. You felt it, his touch on yours and your lip pulled up in the faintest smile you could manage. He was here.

Ivan was next to you in an instant, attempting to quicken your heartbeat, fill your weak lungs with air and keep you alive but his shaking hands were rigid and stiff with fear at the possibility of losing his friend. The other Grisha watched with perplexed faces as they quickly approached, the Healers running for dear life to get to you in time. You were only a teacher in their eyes, not the General's love or the Heartrenderers comrade.

'Y/N you'll be okay, I promise.' Aleksander left a kiss against your forehead, keeping his lips there for as long as he could before the red keftas swarmed around you and fought to save your dwindling life.

And the dark was opening wide, do or die

You registered his touch, his kiss, before the itching took over and the pain slowly lifted. The darkness was back as a comfort and death seemed far away.

The Darkling only had one weakness, one vulnerability, and only one reoccurring nightmare; the death of Y/N Y/L/N and he made sure to let the world know if you ever came to harm, he would kill anyone and anything in his path.

------

Here’s my masterlist 🥰

Taglist (Tell me if you want to be added!!)

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl

[rosie-chaeyoung]

☽ 𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲 [ 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘁 ] ☽

title ; 3am - red velvet - irene

summary ; It’s late at night and the world was asleep. Well, except for Irene. When she wakes you up in the middle of the night for her personal needs things quickly take a turn.

word count ; 2288

pairing(s) / group ; irene of red velvet

warning(s) ; 18+, mommy kink, use of handcuffs, oral sex ( giving ), fingering, dom!reader, sub!irene

genre ; smut

༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧

Quiet crickets sang a song of slumber as the sun had set in for a soft slumber. It was a peaceful night to say the least. Y/n and her girlfriend, Irene, both lay in bed asleep. The world outside snored quietly as the couple slept peacefully. A cool breeze blew every now and then making Joohyun move closer to her taller girlfriend. The clock ticked by slowly, each minute taking it's time to show. Irene's eyes peeked opened, her long eyelashes batted as she turned looking to her lover.

She was still asleep, but she was gorgeous. Her (h/c) hair fell on her pillow and her breathing was steady. She looked so peaceful. The brunette on the other hand was now in distress. She was now wide awake. Tossing and turning on her back, she was having trouble going back to sleep. The last few memories she had weren’t helping. Small flashes of the wet dream went through her mind, they were much too vivid to let go. “Ah. Wait, go f-faster Y/n" Her breath hitched, this was becoming too much to bare alone.

It felt all too surreal. “Moan my name baby" She turned on her side, slightly gripping the bedsheets underneath her frail form. She had to stop thinking about this. "Y-Y/n.. please.." Irene could feel her face turning a dark shade of red, she was becoming hotter and hotter by the second. "Louder baby" With a breathy sigh she realized she couldn't take it any longer. Either she was going to get out of bed or do something rash. “Ah~! I'm about to cum, Y/n~!" She easily decided the ladder. Irene pushed herself up from the soft mattress, putting both her hands on her lover.

She shook her side to side whispering a soft, "Wake up" each time. This continued for about two more minutes before the (e/c) eyed girl started to grow conscious. She opened her eyes, sitting up to look at her lover. "What? I'm up.." Y/n rubbed her eyes and stretched. She had no clue what time it was, but it was way too late for this. "I, um need your help with something." the idol trailed on. Y/n looked at the clock, '03:24' it read. "What's so important for you to wake me up this late? Are you alright?"

Y/n, now fully awake, gave all of her attention to the brown haired female. She figured it must’ve been important if she got waken up for it. Hopefully nothing along the lines of being hurt. “I'm horny.." Joohyun mumbled. Was she ashamed? Slightly, but it was either tell her or deal with this for the rest of the night alone. Y/n groaned rolling her eyes. "Baby, you woke me up at three in the morning to tell me you're horny?" She sighed out. It was unnecessary, she could’ve easily waited a couple more hours.

Or, she could have fixed the issue herself. Anything would have been better than being woken up this late. Irene furrowed her eyebrows and gently pushed her lover to lay on her back. She climbed over from her part of the bed to Y/n's. Straddling her girlfriend’s waist, she sat on top with an annoyed look on her delicate features. Y/n, in return, put her hands on Joohyun’s small waist looking up at the pouting girl.

"What's wrong now?" She asked aloud. Irene ran her hands across the h/c haired girls toned body, she trailed her finger lightly up and down. "I'm being serious about this... And you won't help me! I’ve helped you whenever you need it!" Her pout seemed to sink in deeper at her statement. Y/n exhaled, this was somewhat her fault. The only time her girlfriend became whiny like was when she was needy. Usually every time she became needy she would take care of her. She was just so tired right now though. So reluctantly, she agreed. "Fine fine. Damn, you're lucky I love you.."

The dominant female changed around their positions so she was on top and Irene lay on her back. "But since you did wake me up, we’ll play by my rules. So tell me just how badly you need me.” She laid her hands on Irene's thighs, pushing her legs more and more apart. She slid her knee in between her lovers aching legs, and let out a stiff laugh when Irene bucked her hips forward. "Seriously Y/n, hurry up! This isn’t fair so stop teasing me!" Irene glared up at the dominant female who still hovered her.

Although Y/n smiled, her eyes quickly darkened once she heard the sentence slip from her lover. Reaching up she pulled her wrists together holding them in one place. Her tone started off condescending as she spoke, and slowly let it trail for a better effect. “Listen babe. You woke me up for this. I could be asleep. But you're horny, so tone it down. Okay?" Irene listened and shrunk back into the bed letting her pout return. "Yes..." She lowered her head leaving only a few inches between the two. "Yes what?" She urged on. Irene's cheeks grew hot again but responded. "Yes mommy."

Now pleased, she leaned down capturing the elder females lips in her own. Irene moaned into the soft kiss letting Y/n slide her tongue deep into her mouth. Turning her head to deepen their struggle for dominance, the pale skinned female happily gave in midway. Y/n leaned over to the side of her bed feeling around for a certain object, their lips still connected. Finding what she wanted, she sat up showing her toy to the submissive girl. This was personally one of her favorites. “What? No! You know I hate being handcuffed!"

Irene told her while looking at the silver play thing. "Exactly. That’s the point of this babe." Y/n leaned downward locking the handcuffs to Irene's wrists. She squirmed already hating the new feeling. Irene never did like these restraints, because when she's in them she can never touch her girlfriend. Leaving scratches on her back was a huge turn on for Irene, so to not be able to do that upset her greatly. She hated this. Y/n chuckled looking at Irene's vulnerable state.

"Don’t make that face. You and I both know this is what happens when you get all bratty." But this seemed like too much talking for her liking. Y/n once more leaned down and let her hands find themselves underneath Joohyun’s shirt. She tugged at it, before pulling it off leaving her in a black lace bra and panties. Fortunately enough, Irene never sleeps in pants. "It seems like you came prepared." She teased. The brunette shook her head disagreeing.

"It just sort of happened..." Y/n shrugged her shoulders while going to unclip and take off the lace bra. She didn't waste any time enveloping her significant other. Putting Irene's sensitive bud in her mouth and twirling the other in her hand, Y/n watched Irene let out soft moans. This was her joy of being in control, the trill that ran through her. The only thing she wanted to her was her name being moaned over and over, and as of now she was getting that. "Y/n, ah, please." She panted out.

Y/n loved the feeling of teasing the brown eyed female, this was pure torture. Trailing light and soft butterfly kisses down her toned body Irene was having trouble with the silver restraints on her wrists. Hating the feeling of being tied down she tugged at the cold cuffs, hoping they would come loose. But they didn't budge. Y/n finally tugged the hem of Irene's matching panties, already feeling how soaked they were.

She smirked, her lover always made teasing easy. She always so sensitive to her touch, just the slightest of moves and she could have her older lover turn into a hot moaning mess. The best example of this would be now. "Aww, did you really need my attention that badly?" Y/n began pulling the black lace material off Irene's slender legs. In return, Irene tugged her legs away. "Wait."

Y/n looked up to Irene's dark and lust filled eyes, she was so stunning. She made a humming like noise telling her to continue. She would never do anything without permission, so if she needed to wait then she would do that. "This isn't fair. You have to take off your clothes too. I can’t be the only one naked here." So that’s what she wanted ? She laughed at her submissive's order. She knew it wasn't fair, but she also knew that teasing was still fun.

So she did take her clothes off, just not as quickly as Irene wanted. She put her hand on her shirt hem pulling it off slowly, doing the same with her shorts. "Y/n! Please, I really need you right now!" Irene had been holding back her pleas, but this was her breaking point. She wasn’t even sure how she held onto them this long truly. Her lower regions were throbbing with anticipation and her body was so hot she could’ve swore she would set the bed on fire.

Her breathing was off, and she couldn't hold in anymore of her waiting. She wasn’t the only one having fun though. As mentioned, this is what really turned on Y/n. Being in charge wasn’t always easy, especially with someone with an attitude like Joohyun’s. Yet, times like this really proved she was where she belonged. "As you wish princess." In one big motion she took off the last bit of clothing clinging to her body. Irene, now feeling self conscious of her own body, closed her legs.

Y/n noticed this and almost immediately spread the brunettes legs. With one hand on her hip and the other on her thigh Y/n didn't waste much time going to work. All it took was a few small licks, a bit of sucking, and she was already a throbbing, moaning mess. Joohyun arched her back multiple times letting Y/n stick her tongue fully into her. Her moans were becoming louder by the second as she began tugging harshly at the handcuffs.

She hated not being able to touch her, it was one of the things that just drove her crazy. "Y/n, o-off. Take these off m-" Her 'sentence' cut itself short as another loud moan followed her words. Her climax was coming fast and it was coming hard at that. No, not yet she couldn’t let it happen yet. She wanted these off of her first, she hadn’t to get them off. She pulled harder at the restraints, at this point she was just trying to run away from the pleasure. It was becoming too overwhelming for her.

Y/n made room with her tongue by adding in two fingers. And once she was adjusted, a third to maximize her pleasure as much as possible. Irene's legs began to shake and she began to squirm in her place. "Ah! Y/n! J-Just move your hand, f-faster!" She wanted to ride out her climax and this was her way of doing it. Just to tease her a little more, Y/n slowed her pace slightly. “What’s the magic word?” Joohyun began to push herself toward her lovers hand as she was able to stutter out the word.

“P-Please..” The one little word was all Y/n needed to continue. She went back to her same actions but this time sped things up significantly. Using her thumb Y/n circled around the elder females most sensitive part making her throw her head back, and soon enough let the knot in her stomach break. Breathing heavily she laid her back on the cool bed. It was the only thing in the room that didn't seem hot.

Y/n didn’t consider herself an impatient person, but at the moment she could definitely see why she may be label that way. She pulled Irene's legs apart again and began to ease her into another climax. Irene was sensitive though, so any sort of stimulation down there would be torture. "S-Stop it..." She whined out weakly. There was little fight put up before her legs began to tremble from pleasure once more. The h/c-ette began all over again to give her girlfriend the satisfaction she deserved.

She started to squirm again and now bite down on her lip. "Fuck!" She let her swear slip from her mouth. Once more she arched her back off the bed letting her moans fall out simultaneously. The knot formed over, and soon broke again. Small sighs of pleasure floated from her as she gripped the sheeting beneath her. She had hit her climax for the second time. Joohyun yelled out in pleasure, moaning the (e/c) eyed girl's name.

She let out one last shaky moan until she let herself cum. She sighed in relief, the pleasure was over. "Good girl, you did so well." Y/n moved the wet, frizzled hair from her pale girlfriend's face. She was a panting, sticky, sweaty mess. And that's how she liked it. She reached up unlocking Irene's handcuffs and throwing them to a random corner of the room. Irene quickly clung to Y/n pulling her back down on the bed with herself. After a moment of breathing in her sweet scent, she flipped their positions.

She now straddled Y/n who laid under her satisfied with the past events. Irene showed off her pearly white smile looking into her lovers eyes.

"Round two?" ~

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[alleycat97]

Rival Week

Poppy x MC (Bea)

Taglist: @samanthadalton @belvoiresqueenbee @kwaj115 @baexpoppy

@somewillwin @a-ghost-girl @uhh-the-green-thing

Short Poppy x MC fic, I'm not good at Poppy, but i hope you enjoy!

There were two things that pissed Poppy Min-Sinclair off and that was Bea Hughes, and people who harmed Bea Hughes.

So, she liked the girl and would literally bestow hell on anyone who hurt her precious Bea. Now, she would never admit it, but she loved the way Bea would handle her with her strong farm hands or look at her like no one else existed. She made Poppy truly feel special.

But, being the Queen, sacrifices had to be made, and Bea was one of them. Plus it didn’t help that the girl was after her crown. Poppy had too much to lose, something that would have a new meaning soon enough.

So the Zeta’s were in a war with the crosstown Theta’s of Sagenhaft University. It was rivalry week and Poppy tried to command her troops while trying to avoid Bea and her dumb farm smells.

Bea on the other hand was head over heels for Poppy. One taste is all it took and she was hooked. Poppy didn’t have time to waste on Bea and Bea couldn’t sit by and watch Poppy fail again.

The Theta’s had slipped some nair in the girls shampoo and Poppy fell victim. It was a crippling blow, bald was so not in season.

So Bea took it upon herself to get revenge for Zeta House. Theta house sat on top of the world it seemed like. It overlooked the campus from afar and Bea finally climbed atop the mountain of concrete, arriving in her sexy ass assassin gear.

There was no one around and the door happened to be open. It was time to get in and out, “a little J-lube will do ladies.” Bea added some lube to the wash bottles and made her way to the open balcony window.

Stepping out, she ran into the entire Theta squad. “Haha, hey everyone, this must not be the library.”

Back at Belvoire, it was Zeta movie night and all the girls were interrupted by the T. It was a picture of Bea handcuffed in her underwear with Theta makeup markings all over her body.

Poppy was pissed. She scrambled the troops and got ready to retaliate when she heard loud cheering and a car’s tires squealing away from out front.

The Theta’s disposed of Bea on the front lawn of the Zeta house and everyone came to check on her.

“Move!” Poppy demanded parting the sea of bodies. “Leave us! I need to be alone with Bea.”

“What the hell where you thinking wannabe?!”

“I wanted to help you Pops. You aren’t mad are you?”

“Mad! I’m furious! You aren’t a Zeta Bea! You broke a century old tradition! I don’t need your help! I had it under control.”

“I’m…im sorry, I just wanted to…” Bea tried.

“Save it, let’s get you inside.” Poppy said trying to pick up the blonde but Bea collapsed immediately to the ground wincing in pain.

“What’s wrong!?”

“My leg, I think it’s broken. It hurts.” Bea whined. The adrenaline had finally wore off.

“Next question is, Why are you so wet?” Poppy asked flipping on her flashlight. “You’re bleeding! What did they do to you!?” Poppy screamed. Rule number two was broken now.

“I’m getting really tired Pops, and cold.” Bea yawned closing her eyes.

“Don’t you go to sleep Bea! Stay awake, I need you…” Bea faded into a tiring sleep listening to Poppy panic and woke up soon in the hospital.

The shorter girl who she thought was Poppy wearing Bea’s ball cap, and was yelling at a nurse and Bea tried to sit up in her bed to stop her.

Sensing Bea wake, Poppy shoved the nurse out of the room and checked on Bea.

“How do you feel loser?” Poppy asked grinning.

“Better, I see my leg was broken.”

“Two places. You must have taken a good fall. What did they do to you?”

“After they tied me up and took pictures, one of the Theta’s walked me to the car but they slipped and tripped me so I fell down the stairs. I guess the steps cut me open and the landing broke my leg.” I didn’t feel any of it. I guess because I was outnumbered 140 to 1.”

“They’ll pay for this. Zeta or not. No one touches you but me. You got that Farmsville?”

“You’re my hero Poptart.” Bea mocked.

“You belong to me, and as your Queen, it’s my job to protect all my followers, even you.”

“Or maybe you like me.” Bea teased.

“Maybe I just needed you for recon. That way I can plan out next attack.” Poppy smirked.

“You need me for more than recon. Oh Bea! Don’t fall asleep, I need you…” Bea teased recalling her final moments last night.

“First off, I don’t sound like that, and second, you must have hit your head, because you’re saying nonsense.”

“Just admit you like me Pops. Admit that you need me.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I need you desperately.” Poppy spoke straddling Bea on the bed.

“Maybe I need you on my thrown, by my side as MY Queen.”

Bea grinned as she accepted Poppy’s fury of kisses.

[essentiallykpopandbl]

I feel like I have gathered myself enough after the episode of Not Me today to have a legitimate discussion on what went on. I am going to be honest, Not Me hasn't been my favorite show so far. I have liked it but it has not knocked me out of my chair or anything of that nature. Well today, I ended up on the floor.

To start, the rainbow flag scene. It was fucking beautiful. I mean that with my whole heart and soul. White has finally found something he truly believes in. He does not like the power Tawi holds, he believes that everyone should have equal rights, and he believes that love (in all forms) is love. And he is going to fight for what he believes in. And to see progress happening has made White find his purpose again. He is going to celebrate, jump around, and scream it from the top of his lungs. Because he found his voice. And he did it through the help of Sean. Sean wants to see change and he wants the people who have hurt him to suffer. This fight and strength that Sean has is appealing to White. It pushes White to be better and different. It makes White want to support Sean and see Sean be happy. When Sean shows up at the protest, he sees the change they have started. He sees the good he can put into the world, and that good is from White. Sean knows the bad that Black puts into the world, but this "Black" that he is falling for is so different. He is the light in Sean's world right now. He is the good that is helping Sean see that not only can he be better, but he must be better. And when Sean walks under that rainbow flag to find White, he is accepting that his feelings have changed. He is accepting that he needs his light in order to continue on this path. White said that he is the fear to Sean's bravery, but I think to Sean, "Black" is his bravery. And you see Sean accept this as he grabs White's hand. They both have feelings for each other and are coming to terms with that. But together they are stronger. Together they stand a chance to make a change. Together they are scared and brave and every emotion in between. But together they are also fighters.

Now Yok, he is such a good boy. He deserves a best friend of the year award at least. His talk with Sean could win him the award alone. Sean wants Yok on his side and to bash Black. But Yok is going to tell it how it is. Sean's plan sucked. And Yok won't sugar coat it, not because he is mean but because he cares for his friends. He wants to see them bring forth change and accomplish all they want in life. There are times we need to hear the truth and be knocked down a few levels. Yok will kindly do that while also offering beer, which really is the test of a true friend right there. On a side note, Yok has literally become my favorite character in this show. I'm not sure if it is First bringing some great charisma to the screen, the writing, the nature of his character, or what but he just makes my day better every time he is on screen. I feel this way a little about Gram to but not to the extreme that I do about Yok. If anyone knows what it is let me know!

And the main reason I feel out of my chair today.... DanYok! Oh. My. God. Who allows these two to be on screen together with that much chemistry. It is oozing out of them and I turn into a squealing teen fangirl when they are together. But beyond the fact that Dan brought Yok handcuffed to his secret bedroom and Yok laid on his bed after the two had some serious flirting moments, I found their conversation so fascinating. Especially Yok talking about why they do this. Yok doesn't want to be a hero. He isn't doing this to be a symbol for justice. He doesn't even believe what he is doing is necessarily OK. He is fighting for his voice. He wants to be heard. He wants to be acknowledged. And he wants everyone else to have a voice that can be heard as well. His mother does not have that ability physically. She never will be able to talk louder to make her voice heard. So Yok is fighting for that equal playing field for all. Yok, like Dan, is kind of sitting on both sides of the fence. No side is all good or all bad, there is no easy fix for the problems. All they can do is their best to make sure the other side is heard. I think Yok believes in the cause but struggles to accept the ways they go about it.

This episode I feel was the best episode so far. It felt different from previous episodes in that it let the characters exist and react. We understand them better now and we are rooting for our main four more because of it. I am excited for more seanwhite, danyok, and gramblack next week to knock me out of my chair again.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging nor trying to romanticize or promote yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationship, violence, torture, murder, death, degradation, sexual scenes that might disturb some readers, and other yandere behavior. Read at your own discretion.

Tag list: @seacottons

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𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 :

���𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷𝟶𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟻 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟿 𝙵𝚃

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■□90%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

•𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖.

•𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛.

•𝚄𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝙳𝚂𝙼 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

•𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍.

•𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

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It was his sweet and innocent smile...

That's how it always starts with him.

Everyone falls victim to that smile that radiates happiness with dimples that captivate your heart.

But he never chases anyone down.

San wants them to chase him, so he plays hard to get.

And he's not looking for a relationship, he just enjoys hooking up with people.

No strings attached, no commitments, his booty call list is miles long.

And then you came along.

What was it about you that drew Choi San to you?

Was it your pure and intact body?

Was it your curious and inexperienced eyes that begged for excitement and adventure?

Perhaps a mix of both aspects?

Whatever it was, the day you crossed paths with San, was the day you crossed paths with the devil himself.

"Hi. I'm San....pleasure to meet you."

San's first goal with you was just to get in your pants like he did with the rest.

But you weren't easy, and when he found out you were a virgin, the goal changed.

Now he wanted you.

He became obsessed with owning everything about you: your mind, body, heart, and soul.

He wanted it all and he'd get it no matter the cost.

So he plays the sweet caring boyfriend for a while.

Yes, Choi San was exclusively yours, much to the shock and disappointment of others.

As a boyfriend, he was very caring to you.

Perfect gentleman that held you in high esteem and made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

You truly fell deeply and madly in love with his charms.

So you had no qualms about letting him take your virginity, letting him be your first.

After all, he did love you.....right?

Well he did love corrupting you.

And after your first night together, he became more demanding and started showing aggressiveness towards you.

He'd never hide his displeasure if he saw you wearing something he didn't like.

"Why are you wearing that in public? You look like a whore."

He'd make you tell him your every move about where you went and with whom.

And if you didn't answer or reply to his messages, he'd somehow always find you.

"Why the fuck weren't you answering me? When I talk to you, I demand an answer."

And if there was a particular thing he absolutely hated, was your male friend that you often saw.

"I don't want you hanging out with that friend of yours."

"He's my childhood friend? He's like my brother. " You told him.

San just glared at you. "I don't care. I don't want you hanging out with him. That's final."

You rolled your eyes at him and thought he was just being jealous.

It was wrong of you to disobey him.

Next time he came over to your house, you were there with your friend...

If that scene alone didn't make San angry, the fact you were wearing a very thin tank top and revealing shorts made him get rigid.

"I thought I fucking told you never to see him again!" He screamed at you, striking fear in you at the way he raised his voice.

Your friend, however, wasn't scared of San and decided it would be good to stand up to your possessive and controlling boyfriend.

"You need to leave Y/N alone. She doesn't deserve to deal with someone like you."

Grabbing your hand, your friend tried to take you away from there, but San wasn't having it.

Roughly, he gripped your arm and pulled you away from your friend, placing you behind him.

"She's not yours to decide what to do. She's mine. Got it?"

Your friend wasn't going to give in that easily. He shoved San which culminated in fists flying from both of them.

"Stop! Stop it! Both of you!" You begged, covering your eyes at the violent scene.

They ended up in the kitchen, with your friend gaining the upper hand and holding San down against the counter.

It all happened too fast for you to react:

San grabbing a knife which was withing his reach, coming up and striking your friend in his lower abdomen....

And it didn't stop there.

San took out the knife and began to repeatedly stab him until his body collapsed on the floor, completely lifeless.

You were in such shock you couldn't find your own voice to scream for help.

The last thing you saw was San's diabolical eyes looking at you, his footsteps getting closer to you before you passed out from shock and the intensity of what you just witnessed.

You woke up approximately 12 hours later, feeling sore and somewhat sticky.

You let out a mix between a whine and a moan when you feel something very familiar sliding in and out of you.

Turning your head, you're met with a smirking San, his hands on your hips as his cock thrusts deep inside of you.

Looking down, you notice your hands are bound by handcuffs that are tied to the bed.

You jostled the handcuffs, trying to get them off you but were met with a harsh slap to your ass by San.

"Don't you dare." Was his only warning before snapping his hips even harder, making you come all over him in mere seconds.

For the first few days, he kept you handcuffed to his bed, refusing to let you go.

"If I let you go, you'll try to run away. I can't have you doing that."

So your days consisted of waking up with San next to you, having him feed you things which you swore had something in them since you always ended up feeling drowsy afterwards.

And of course having him fuck you like you were his personal sex toy every single night.

Finally one day, he removed the handcuffs from you.

"Try to run away and I will break your ankles."

He often had to leave the house for work, so the first day you were left to wander around, you stupidly tried to check if any windows or doors were left unlocked.

But they weren't. They were all bolted in and out.

And San walked in just in time to see you try to smash open one of the windows.

"Seriously?! I give you a simple order and you disobey me?!"

You ended up not being able to walk for 6 weeks because San was true to his word: he broke your ankles.

Now you were deathly scared of pissing him off.

So you tried your best to just please him, do whatever he asked you to do.

Whether it'd be cooking him food, cleaning the house, sucking him off or letting him do any of his depraved sexual acts on your body.

The only request you actually enjoy doing for him is when he asks you to cuddle up next to him.

Feeling his chest move up and down, hearing his heartbeat while his hand strokes your hair, you think maybe.....just maybe.....there's still a hint of the sweet man you met at first, the one you fell in love with..

But that image is quickly shattered whenever he pushes you off him or strikes you across the face because you 'glared at him or rolled your eyes at him.'

And you can't even cry in front of him because it just angers him even more.

Once, he held a pillow over your face so as to muffle your annoying little whimpers.

And another time he almost drowned you in the bathtub.

Sometimes you really did wish he'd end your misery.

As the days passed by, it was getting harder and harder to deal with his violent mood swings.

Nothing was ever good enough for him, and if anyone from the outside world angered him, you were the one who had to bear the punishment.

Either in the form of harsh beatings or so many overstimulations.

"San...." You whined, tears falling out of your eyes as your body couldn't handle another orgasm.

San merely slapped your swollen and red pussy, making you hiss at the stinging pain.

"I'm not done with you yet my little slut. This dirty hole of yours belongs to me and I'll fuck it as many times as I want to." He growled in your ear.

You were often left limping for a day or two, while San merely snickered under his breath, proud of himself for ruining you yet again.

With how much sex he was making you two have it surprised you how you never ended up pregnant, considering that he always went in raw with you.

Your question was answered one day when your period came late and it was excruciatingly painful.

You were bleeding more heavily than usual and it felt like your guts were being ripped apart.

San took you to the hospital, warning you not to say anything.

It's not like you could anyway, you were in so much pain and under heavy medication that you never got the chance to say anything.

Especially not when San took you home early so you wouldn't get the chance.

"What happened? What did they do to me?"

Grudgingly, San handed over the hospital papers to you.

You felt like you lost the ability to breathe when you read that it was necessary for them to remove your uterus since it had been severely damaged by some weird chemical substance.

"I don't understand! I've never taken anything! Have I?!"

San only blinked at you, then looked down and walked away from you.

That's when it hit you: every time he made food, and you always ended up feeling weird.....

San had been altering with your own body all this time!

You were beyond disgusted, you were repulsed and you hit your breaking point.

Something in you snapped as you marched up to San and pushed him into the wall, demanding to know why he would do that.

"So you wouldn't get pregnant! If you had gotten pregnant, I would have had to be soft to you. I wasn't going to do that." He admitted that so casually, as if there was nothing wrong in the way he treated you.

And that was it for you, the last straw of your sanity left as you slapped San harshly across the face.

Of course he retaliated, but you weren't going to give in so easily.

Using whatever strength you had left, you tried to fight him off, even going as far as breaking a vase over his head, which rendered him immobile for a while.

You ran to the basement, and picked up a can of gasoline and a couple of matches.

Running back inside, you spilled the contents all around the hallway, the living room and in the dreaded bedroom that you loathed with every fiber of your being.

Then you struck up a match and let it fall, watching as part of the house burst up in flames.

You went to a part of the house that you left intact, where there was a window.

Picking up a baseball bat, the same one San had used to break your ankles, you tried to break it open, succeeding only in cracking it...

Before a pair of bloody arms pulled you back and dragged you deeper into the burning part of the house.

You struggled to get out of his grip, but he was much stronger than you and the black fumes that you were inhaling were only debilitating you more.

The last thing you remember was San glaring at you, wrath written all over his face as he said his final words to you:

"If I'm going to hell, I'm dragging you down with me...."

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[cherienymphe]

Protect & Serve VIII (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: Cop!Steve, graphic violence, mentions of noncon

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

It’s here, it’s here! This is the final part, and I’ve had so much fun writing this series! I’ve loved reading all of your comments at every twist and turn and I thank all of you who have interacted with this fic. Enjoy!

summary:  escaping an ugly past, you have no choice but to return home. While much has remained the same, Officer Rogers is a new addition who has won over the hearts of the town in your absence. And no one believes you when you start to see him for who he really is

~

The weeks that followed were a blur. You meant that in the literal sense. Steve kept you sedated and unable to even lift a finger against him for what felt like months, but in actuality it was only weeks. You were in and out of consciousness, something Steve enjoyed immensely, and every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Killian.

You saw his angry face and remembered how his absolute incompetence put you back at square one. You remembered the fear and the blood and the pain in your shoulder. Most of all, you remembered Steve’s hands on your neck. You remembered how it felt when you finally realized that he’d had every intention of killing you.

The fact that you’d made him angry enough to kill you made your stomach churn. You had foolishly thought that a fate similar to Peggy’s was off the table. Now you knew that you indeed could push Steve too far and he very well could snap and kill you. It occurred to you that to truly escape this, you might have to kill him.

You weren’t exactly keen on killing Steve. It wasn’t a moral issue. He was your captor and rapist after all, but if you killed him…you would never be able to go back to your life before this. He was a cop. A well loved one. His absence would be noticeable, and even if he weren’t, he had friends who were. Bucky and Sam would know it was you, and there was no doubt in your mind that they’d make you pay for what you did.

Sure, you could tell other police and the court the truth…but who would believe you? As corrupt as they were, it wasn’t outlandish to think that Bucky or Sam would plant evidence or fabricate a whole tale to make you look as guilty as possible. If you killed Steve, you’d either be on the run forever or looking at the inside of a prison for life, and that’s if you didn’t get a death sentence. The only way to truly prevent any of that was to kill all of his cop buddies right along with him and cover it up.

You were smart, but you weren’t ‘cover up a multiple murder’ smart. No matter how many crime shows you’d watched in your life.

So, you were back at square one. To even attempt to get back to your old life was to escape…again. That was something that was going to be near to impossible. You hadn’t just attempted to escape. You had escaped. You had succeeded. Steve now knew the extent of what you were capable of, and you knew that when he stopped drugging you, there would be no way you could ever get away from him. Not for a long time, and that wouldn’t bode well for you.

Steve took full advantage of the vulnerable state that you were in. You could never fight back when you woke up to the feel of him sliding into you during the early hours of the morning or late at night after he’d helped you shower. You could feel the affect it was having on you. You could feel the way your gut tingled and hands buzzed every time his hands met your skin. You couldn’t do anything but be complacent in it, and your body was growing to expect his touch.

The first day that you woke up with a sense of understanding that you hadn’t felt in a while, limbs feeling like yours again, was also the first day that you had thrown up. You knew it then before you’d even made it to the bathroom, knees harshly hitting the floor as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You were done by the time Steve woke up, and you said nothing as he rose to help you back into bed.

Your silent tears wet the pillow beneath your head as he settled behind you, arm thrown over your waist. Dread kept you awake all night, not even flinching when Steve’s alarm went off. He was going into the station today but had been on nothing but desk duty since you escaped in order for his thumb to fully heal.

You were handcuffed to the chair at the table as he fed you, and you were silent when he led you back upstairs to lock you in his room. He didn’t speak to you much now, and you were both thankful and weary of that. It gave you room to think, to scheme, but at the same time, you didn’t know what he was thinking. He fiercely pressed his lips against yours before closing the door behind him. You eyed the new and improved lock pad as it flashed red when the door shut.

You sat on the bed with a sigh, looking around the room with tearful eyes. There was nothing in here to help you escape. At least, not at first glance. You were officially out of time, and you had to leave and leave for good, successfully this time. It was only a matter of time before Steve caught on.

You didn’t need to take a pregnancy test to know that you were pregnant.

There was no telling how much harder Steve would crack down once he found out. Your stomach churned with more than just morning sickness at the thought. Body clean of drugs for the first time in weeks, you stood and paced around the room. The nightstand was glued down, and the drawer was glued shut. Frustration threatened to make you cry, but you took a deep shaky breath.

You wanted to tell yourself that you had a little time to come up with something, but another part of you argued that you didn’t. You not only wanted, but also needed to get out of here as soon as possible. You didn’t want to give Steve more time to find out about your condition and come up with more ways to keep you here. You wondered if he would take it to extremes… If he would put you in the basement just to keep you from leaving or harming yourself.

You stopped at that thought, and your eyes fell to the bathroom door.

Heart racing in your chest, you burst through the threshold, and your gaze flickered between the mirror and the glass shower door. You told yourself to take your time, that you had hours before Steve would return from work. You didn’t have to choose immediately, but you needed to figure out which would be easier to break.

Adrenaline at an all time high, you bent down to open the cabinet door, but it was also glued shut. You let out a frustrated scream before kicking it, tears kissing your eyes. Your eyes fell to the mirror again, and before you could comprehend your next course of action, you punched it…hard. You yelped in pain, clutching your hand as you eyed the tiny crack on the surface. It was hardly anything, but to you it was hope.

With another deep breath, you smashed it again, screaming in both pain and satisfaction when it broke, a few pieces clanking into the sink. You rushed to pull more pieces off, wincing as it sliced your fingers, blood falling from your hands. You held a nice sized piece in your hand, swallowing down the pain as you backed out of the room.

You stumbled to the bed, running your bloody hands all over the bedding. You eyed it with a frown, thinking to yourself that while it was a start, it wasn’t enough. You bit your lip, blinking a few times as you thought about what you needed to do. The wrist would be easiest, but that was too much of a slippery slope. If you cut too deep or too wrong, you could easily do something you had no intention of doing.

You considered your shoulder or leg, but God forbid you needed to go in the lake again, you’d need all of your limbs intact. With a shaky sigh, you lifted the oversized t-shirt that Steve had put on you, and you pressed the broken mirror piece to the inside of your thigh, right next to your core. You swallowed down a sob and jerked the jagged edge along your skin. It hurt so bad that you couldn’t even make a sound, only heavy breathing escaping you as you smeared your blood over more of the bedding.

You fell to your knees, ripping off a piece of the sheet before tying it around your thigh. It was painful with how tight you tied it, but it was better than bleeding out. On shaky legs, you pulled yourself back onto the bed, laying askew on the bloody sheets, one hand by your head and the other, the one with the shard of mirror, under the pillow beneath your head.

Now you waited.

Genuinely exhausted, you did drift in and out of sleep while Steve was gone. It wasn’t smart, considering you could still feel yourself bleeding, but it couldn’t be helped. You were lazily staring up at the ceiling when you finally heard Steve return. You felt your stomach swirl, but you swallowed it down and closed your eyes. You felt like you were going to throw up, and you prayed that you could keep it down.

You could hear him call your name, but you didn’t respond, and it wasn’t long before you heard his footsteps on the stairs. You evened your breathing, but there was nothing to do about the way your heart was going haywire in your chest. You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but there was no more time to ponder on that before you heard the door open.

Steve’s reaction was instantaneous. You heard his sharp intake of breath, and the bed was dipping and jostling as he joined you, reaching for you.

“Y/N.”

His strained voice reached your ears, and he pressed his ear to your chest. You tightened your grip as he slid his arm underneath you, pulling you up. His head was still on your chest when you opened your eyes and swung, just barely catching his shoulder right as he straightened in time to move back.

A hiss escaped him, and his hold tightened on you as you dug the broken shard into his arm. Anger contorted his features, but you swallowed your fear, yanking it out and aiming for his neck. His free hand reached to catch hold of your wrist, but your free hand pressed into his eyes. He yelped, reaching for that hand as he rolled.

You both landed on the floor in a heap, you on top of him, and you went to stab him again, but he shoved you off of him. Your back harshly met the floor, and you gasped in pain, struggling to push yourself to your feet. Shard still in hand, you made your way to the door, only to scream at the harsh tug on your scalp.

You gasped when your face was pressed against the hallway wall, Steve’s imposing frame pressed to your back. You pushed back against him, his back hitting the opposite wall, tears kissing your lashes as his arm snaked around your neck.

You kicked back against him, hitting at him, but his hold was firm. Grip almost painful around the broken mirror piece, you reached up and back, swiping it over whatever part of his face you could reach. You both screamed, him in pain and you in fear as he let you go, the bottom of the stairs fast approaching.

Pain traveled through you as you hit each step, landing on your knee at the bottom. You took in a shaky breath, a scream bubbling in your throat. You could hear Steve’s harsh breaths at the top, and you forced yourself to stand on unsteady legs. You could hear him behind you as you ran to the back door, hitting it in frustration.

It was locked.

“I wonder how much blood you lost pulling that little stunt…”

You spun around, back against the door as you eyed him. Even though you couldn’t see it, the way the top of his uniform stuck to his skin told you it was soaked with blood, more on his face, a nasty jagged cut traveling over his face, interrupted by his bleeding eye. You glared at him, pressing into the door even more as he stepped off the last step.

“I wonder when the dizziness will set in…the clouded judgement,” he hummed, a humorless smirk on his bloodstained lips.

You glanced around, considering your next course of action. Your gaze was drawn back to him when he moved, spreading his arms as he stared you down.

“What will you do now? Hmm? What’s your next move?”

He was mocking you, and your nostrils flared. He chuckled, taking a step towards you, blocking the entrance hall. He was also way too close to the kitchen. The only option was the doors behind you, but they were locked…but they were also 90% glass.

Your eyes met his hard blue ones, and the noise of the mirror shard hitting the floor traveled through the air. His smirk grew, but there was no trace of humor in his features. Despite what he’d told you before, you felt like if he caught you, he would really kill you this time.

With a deep breath, you turned and threw yourself through the glass doors. You hissed as glass shards dug into your skin, doing so even more as you pushed yourself to your feet. Steve was on you almost immediately, a growl escaping him as you fought against him.

He pushed you into the wooden porch railing, hand pressed against the back of your neck as he pushed your face onto it. You elbowed him in the stomach, and he huffed. You repeated the action, and his free hand grabbed your arm, pulling your head up so that your back was pressed to his chest. His breathing was labored in your ear, and yours fared no better.

Now that you were still, you realized that your body was screaming in pain. You couldn’t tell what hurt the most, and you wondered if you were able to get out of his hold, would you even be able to get away? Or would your body collapse on itself first?

“You know what happens now, don’t you?”

Steve’s voice was venomous, lips brushing your ear, and you jerked your head away. He swiftly spun you both around, making to force you back into the house, but with a scream, you threw yourself back, forcing him back too.

The world spun as you both flipped over the railing, hitting the ground and rolling down the small incline. You literally crawled towards the water on shaky hands and knees, tears of relief spilling over as water hit your shoulders. You could hear Steve screaming for you, his voice not far behind.

You were shaking from both the cold water and the sound of splashing water, Steve’s pursuit loud in your ears. The cold water seeping into your cuts and bruises didn’t help. Instead it felt like cool knives were being pressed into every injury. Steve was still hot on your tail, and you ducked underneath the dark water, pushing forward despite the lack of visibility.

It was only when you couldn’t hold your breath anymore did you come up for air. You spun around when you realized you couldn’t hear Steve, and panic gripped you as you realized he had gone under the water too. You looked around, eyes wide before going under again.

If you couldn’t see, you figured he couldn’t either. Not being able to see him put you on edge, but you swallowed down your fear and kicked towards the other side of the lake anyway. You came up for air again, face wet from water and tears as you rushed towards the tree line. You were being hunted, and the feeling was nauseating.

You kept your eyes on the tree line in front of you, only looking away when a familiar hand wrapped around your ankle. You flailed in the water as you were pulled under, firm hands grabbing at you. You kicked against him, but your injuries and the water made it difficult, and he had you in his arms as he pulled you both to the surface.

You were shaking, and you pressed your hands into his chest as one hand pulled at the roots of your hair, his other pinning you against him. You whimpered as he tightened his hold, painfully so, and his blue eyes looked almost black in the darkness. His lip curled over his teeth as he glared at you.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t drown you, right now,” he murmured.

Your lips trembled, more tears spilling over as you came face to face with your own mortality yet again. You knew that he could. You were injured and growing weaker by the minute. Not only that, but he would. Steve had killed before, dumped her in this very lake, and he’d almost killed you before too. His hold tightened, and bile threatened to come up your throat.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hold you under this water and leave you here…”

You could feel the short sentence lingering on your tongue. You knew that it was the only way to stay alive another day, another chance to escape. But you also knew that it would change everything. Telling him would keep you alive, sure, but it could also dwindle your chance of escape down to nothing.

“I…”

“You what?”

“I… I’m-I’m pregnant.”

Your voice was small, quiet even in the quiet outside, but Steve heard you loud and clear, eyes widening and grip loosening ever so slightly.

“…if you’re lying to me-.”

“I’m not!” you interrupted him, frantically shaking your head. “I’m not. I don’t think I’m far along, maybe some weeks, but… I’m sure of it.”

His whole expression changed, and your heart sank as you could literally feel what little freedom you had left slipping away. His face softened, and the hand on your back slid to your stomach, thumb grazing your skin through the shirt. His face suddenly hardened again, pulling you against him.

“You better hope that your great escape attempt hasn’t harmed it in any way.”

You bit your tongue, looking away. You grimaced as he yanked you along as he treaded back towards the house. Your knees buckled when you both made it onto land, but Steve’s hold kept you from falling. You shook as he leaned in to press his lips against the side of your face, your eyes closing in disgust.

“I know you think this little reveal will allow you another chance of escape, but I promise you… It won’t.”

You turned your head to glower at him, and he softly smirked, reaching up to brush his thumb along your bottom lip. His eyes were mirthful, and you suddenly felt like there was a hidden joke that you weren’t in on.

You were regretting your actions the previous night when you woke up the next morning in barely bearable pain. It hurt to sit up, but you did so anyway as you looked around, noting that the room was empty of a certain blond cop.

You thought that maybe he’d gone to work, but with a start, you realized that the bedroom door was open. You could faintly hear him downstairs, and wincing the whole time, you pushed yourself to your feet. Your steps were slow, body riddled with pain as you made your way downstairs.

You could hear him in the kitchen, and your gaze was drawn to the broken backdoor. You frowned, wondering why Steve suddenly seemed so much more lenient with your freedom. Surely, he figured that you’d attempt to just walk out? Before you could think on that anymore, he was exiting the kitchen, dressed in a simple flannel and jeans, looking deceptively domestic.

Your mouth parted when he greeted you with a kiss to your cheek. You frowned at him when he pulled away, and your mind swirled with possibilities. What had happened while you were asleep? Why did he seem more trusting? Happy even? Sure, you were pregnant, but surely Steve wanted to confirm that first. He had to be skeptical, so there was no way your condition had prompted this behavior.

“Come and eat breakfast,” he softly said, and you stumbled back.

You shook your head, eyeing him.

“What’s going on?”

His smile was small, secretive as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

“What’s going on is that I cooked breakfast and after last night, you need to get your strength back. Especially considering your delicate condition,” he hummed.

“A condition that you haven’t even confirmed. I know that the possibility of me being pregnant didn’t bring this on. You’re quite easy to read,” you told him.

He straightened, tilting his head at you like he would a child.

“Come eat-.”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demanded.

His eyes clouded over as you stared him down, and his small smile transformed into a smirk. He suddenly spun you around, pressing his chest against your back as his lips kissed your ear.

“You want to know what’s going on? Fine.”

He pushed you along, and with dread you realized that you were approaching the basement door. You watched as he reached around you to unlock and open it, grip now tight on your arm as he led you down the stairs to the heftier door.

“I wanted to have a nice morning, you know? Have breakfast together, discuss the pregnancy, our future…”

He rambled on as he slid the bar from over the door, the door groaning as he pushed it open. Dread filled you as he continued, and you were suddenly very afraid.

“…but no. You wish to do this now? Fine. I suppose it’s best to get this over with so there will be no more misunderstanding about our life from here on out.”

Confusion filled you as you didn’t understand what he meant, but you did as soon as you stepped into the room. A choked scream escaped you, and you stumbled back, right into Steve’s waiting arms.

Your wide eyes met Wanda’s tearful ones as Steve wrapped his arms around you. You trembled in his hold, taking in the way Wanda was chained to the bed with her hands behind her back, a cloth tied around her mouth, muffled sobs escaping her at the sight of Steve.

His lips grazed your ear, and you jerked in his hold.

“You see…I do believe that you’re pregnant, or at the very least, I believe you think so. However, I don’t trust that you won’t put this child in harm’s way just to escape me. After all, you happily bled yourself and jumped through glass and over railings all the while knowing of your condition. You’ve proven to me that your freedom is your top priority,” he murmured.

Wanda was screaming at you, and even muffled, you could tell that she was saying your name, probably telling you to run. You shook your head in disbelief, the reality of this new development taking a while to sink in.

“This will ensure that you behave, that you obey me, that you give me everything I want. This will ensure our future…”

You couldn’t take your eyes off of Wanda as he yanked you along, feet tripping over each other as he forced you up the stairs. Your mind spun when he slammed the door shut, silencing Wanda’s muffled screams.

When your back met the hallway wall, your glassy eyes stared past Steve, feeling like someone had punched you in the gut. You slowly shifted your gaze to meet his own as he pressed his fingers against the wall beside your head, caging you in.

The tears finally spilled over when he smiled at you, smugness in every curve of his lips. He heaved a wistful sigh, blue eyes sparkling as he ran them over your defeated form.

“I love the feeling of coming out on top…don’t you?”

You balled your hands into fists, a sob caught in your chest.

“I…won…”

“No,” you sobbed, shaking your head, and he shushed you.

“I did. I won, Y/N.”

“No, no!”

You pushed against him, but he pushed back, pressing his chest against yours as he hummed.

“You weren’t above playing dirty, and neither am I. Pretending to be hurt? Making me think you were on the verge of death, if not already dead, just to attack me? That was low,” he slowly whispered. “…but I can go lower.”

You felt yourself falling, sliding down the wall, but Steve caught you.

“Woah, woah,” he cooed, brushing the tears away from your face as he drank you in. “You lost, sweetheart…but not without a fight, I’ll give you that.”

Your hands were on his shoulders as your chest heaved, body wracked with sobs. His eyes bore into your own, and you eyed the healing cut on his face.

“You were good…but I was better.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, and your face crumbled as the truth finally set in.

“You so much as step a foot out of this house without my permission…you so much as lift another finger towards me… If I even think that you’re intentionally causing harm to yourself, Ill hurt her.”

You shuddered.

“I’ll gift you with a finger or an ear…maybe even her tongue. Her health and safety is completely dependent upon you.”

Your head fell, eyes landing on the floor, but Steve pressed a finger to your chin, lifting your head so that his gaze met yours again. They were alight with triumph, a smug smirk dancing along his lips.

“Now…kiss me.”

Holding back another sob and left with no other choice, you leaned in and fearfully pressed your lips against his.

fin.

~

tags:  @xoxabs88xox  @darkficreposter   @mcudarklibrary @captainchrisstan @nickyl316h @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @readermia @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @opheliadawnwalker3 @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21  @stargazingfangirl18   @lou-la-lou @izzfizzh @thatgirly81 @autty0314 @hinata7346 @lokislastlove @honorarytenenbaum @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters  @autty0314 @saiyanprincessswanie​ @hurricanerin​ @jack-skellingtons-stuff​ @collette04​ @wandascarlett​ @simonedk​ @nellblazer​ @tricereads​ @d-whinchestergirl87​ @muse-of-chaos2​

[euphoricsunflowers]

sleepy — monsta x

a/n: i hope you enjoy this new format! please let me know if you do and please give me feedback!

word count: 0.9k

content: sub!monsta x, dom!gn!reader except hyungwon’s part! his is fem!reader!!!, somnophilia, dumbification (a lil), cockwarming (hyungwon), masturbation and implied self-edging (minhyuk), handjobs, handcuffs (changkyun)

disclaimer: these are all with the assumption that prior consent was given and some display some unsafe sex practices so please read with caution. thank you.

—

son hyunwoo/shownu

he collapses into the bed after a particularly hard day, already just a few minutes from sleep from the moment his head hid the pillow. he pulls you close to him, assuming you were asleep, but he’s wrong. you’re wide awake. you turn around, pushing him onto his back and curling up against his side, murmuring, “go to sleep, baby.”

he’s too tired to put too much thought into the way you kiss his shoulder and neck, so he just lets himself be swallowed up by the bed and your lips. your fingers brush the front of his sweats, teasing him slightly. he groans so softly, aching for you to touch him, but too tired and cloudy to ask for it.

you whisper to him, “i love playing with you like this, all relaxed and defenseless for me. sleep well, baby bear.”

lee hoseok/wonho

usually it’s him who wakes up first, but on mornings where you catch yourself waking while he’s still all cute and dozed off, you don’t waste the perfect opportunity. you touch him lightly at first, trying not to alarm his body too much, because then he’ll awaken too soon, and that’s no fun. when he stirs slightly, you pull away, letting him fall back into sleep, and then continuing to mess with him.

he involuntarily lets out a whine, still so drowsy and out of it that he can’t quite tell why he feels so good when he regains some consciousness, “good morning, darling, did you sleep well?” he doesn’t answer, instead moaning prettily, “that’s what i thought, sleepy bunny. just lay still and enjoy it, let me do all the work.”

lee minhyuk

“i’m tired, min, not right now,” you mumble, sinking more into the bed, but he pouts so cutely like he always does.

“then can i touch myself?” he pleads, and it gives you a cruel idea. you even have to stop yourself from smiling because he might catch on.

“go for it,” he’s taken off guard, not exactly expecting to get permission, “here, do it next to me so i can hear your pretty moans as i fall asleep.”

he does as you say, letting you curl up next to him as he touches himself. it feels dirty, but you’ve asked worse of him, so he doesn’t mind.

“one last thing, min,” you press a kiss to his shoulder, and he stops for a minute to listen, “if you want to cum, you’ll need my permission.”

he finally seems to get what you’re trying to do, pathetically sighing as it clicks for him, “b-but how am i supposed to get permission if you’re asleep—?”

“shhh, puppy, that’s your own problem.”

yoo kihyun

“(title),” he almost whines, catching your attention. he’s never that outright with calling you that, always waiting until you force it out of him to cave, so you were already intrigued. he comes up to you, tiredly resting his head against your shoulder as you gently wrap your arms around him.

so you ask, “is everything alright, ki?”

“i’m—“ he yawns, “— needy. please take care of me,” you immediately get him on the bed, touching him enough to keep him from complaining as you curl up behind him to make him more comfortable.

“cum whenever you want, baby, don’t think too hard about anything other than me, okay?”

chae hyungwon

“you’re so cruel, you know that?” he breathes, his expression so strained it makes you want to giggle. he was tired before, but now he’s wide awake as you rest in his arms, sitting completely still with him inside, not letting him move either.

“poor baby, are you needy? you want me to ride your dick until you can’t see straight, pleasure you until it’s too much and you're crying in pain?” he groans at your words, nodding with shut eyes and a tremble in his breaths, “well, that’s too bad, i don’t really feel like it. try to get some sleep, angel, i’ll get you off real nice and hard in the morning if you’re good.”

“god i hate you sometimes,” he whispers mostly to himself as you doze off with a smirk.

“oh, you love it. don’t lie to me.”

lee jooheon

he was so cute when he slept, it’s such a shame he’d never get to know what it’s like to gaze at his pretty face all night.

what it’s like to play with his hair and hear his soft little moans and content, slow breathes.

what it’s like to see him drift in and out of consciousness as you touch him throughout the night, forcing your way into his dreams, making his body so needy it can’t help but imagine in his dreams all the ways you could ruin him.

what it’s like to bring him to the edge without him even consciously knowing it.

frankly, it’s a shame he doesn’t get to watch any of it through your eyes.

im changkyun/i.m

“leave the handcuffs,” he whispers as you clean him up and reach to free him.

you’re left a bit stunned at his request, blinking confusedly, “what? you what to be handcuffed to the bed while we sleep? what if you need to get up or something happens—?”

“it makes me feel good, like i truly belong to you,” his eyes shimmer differently in the moonlight, still puffy from his crying but so full of love that you can’t help but adore him.

“alright, but i’ll leave the key on the nightstand in case you need out of them and can’t wake me up, okay?” you make sure to tell him before giving in and letting him rest with his left hand still above his head, handcuffed to the headboard, “sleep well, my prince.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @feelslikelove @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting @baa-nana @foenixs @sunflowerkeen @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 9

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - verbal abuse, reader is held hostage by her ex boyfriend.

Author’s note: We're approaching the end… I hope you enjoy this chapter. I just want to clarify that, although I have seen WW84 (and it was great!), I'll be finishing this series as if I haven't seen it. Sugar and Spice will not have spoilers for WW84.

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER NINE - NEXT

Maxwell must've been banging on your front door for minutes, yelling your name, desperate to get an answer. He just had to see you. He began to feel sick with worry when you weren't answering. What if you wanted nothing to do with him anymore? What if he had frightened you away like he has done to everyone else in his life? The guilt and the nausea overwhelmed him. He kept banging on the door until his knuckles were red raw and your neighbours came to look at what was going on. Unlocking their door, a mother and her two younger children padded out into the hallway, looking perplexed. The woman's face softened when she realised who it was.

"You're- you're the oil guy from television!" the mother stated with a gasp of shock. Her two children clasped their hands over their mouths when they realised. Maxwell stiffened up and ran a finger through his hair, straightening his posture and taking a deep breath.

"The oil guy! I'll take it!" Maxwell forced an enthusiastic grin trying to keep up with his charming persona. He couldn't let his anxiety ruin his reputation, that's for sure. "Could you- could you help me with something?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow.

"Oh Mr Lord, I would be honoured." The mother sighed dreamily and Maxwell smirked.

"The lady who lives here… you wouldn't happen to know where she is? I have to see her and it seems as though she's not answering the door. I- I have to get into her apartment." Maxwell explained, hoping the mother wouldn't require any more information than what he had already provided.

"Hm, I can't think of where she might be this early in the morning. I know she lost her job at the coffee shop. She must be in bed still… heavy sleeper?" The mother thought out loud, but Maxwell knew you weren't a heavy sleeper and you would have heard him by now. His heart rate began to pick up speed and his knees felt weak and wobbly with nerves. What if something had happened to you? "If you need to get into her apartment, I'd recommend going to see Tristan. He's our landlord. He has a spare key for every place in the building."

Maxwell's eyes lit up. "Right! Oh wonderful!" he gleamed. "Where can I find Tristan?"

"His apartment is the only one on the first floor. Back down all those flights of stairs I'm afraid! Oh but… he doesn't like to be woken up early… I'd maybe come back in a few hours." The mother recommended, but Maxwell was already long gone. He ran down the stairs, his hand sliding down the bannister as his feet carried his body faster than he anticipated.

When he reached the ground floor, he was heaving and panting. Maxwell loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door.

Nothing. Silence. Maxwell knocked again and he could've swore he heard shuffling around. "Hello? Is anyone home?" Maxwell asked, his fist banging on the door again.

Your ears perked up from the other side of the door as you sleepily rubbed your eyes. It couldn't be… could it? You must've been dreaming. But you recognised that soft, velveteen voice anywhere.

"Max?" you groggily croaked out. Maxwell's heart sank. He called your name and knocked on the door louder this time. You gasped and shuffled towards the front door, leaning against it and trying desperately to work the lock. It was no use though. Tristan had the key. "Max? Please tell me that's you." you whimpered as tears pricked your eyes. Had your wishes been granted? Was it really him?

"Wh- darling? What are you doing here?" Maxwell asked, his voice croaking slightly. Why were you at your landlords apartment? The reality that you had left Maxwell's side when he was most vulnerable to go stay at Tristan's was finally hitting him and it did not feel good.

"Max please be quiet," you whispered, and now the tears were free falling. "Tristan has me trapped in here. The door is locked I- I can't get out. I need help. I'm scared Max." you sobbed as gently as you could, not wanting to wake up your ex boyfriend.

Panic began to fill Maxwell, knowing that you weren't safe. He looked up and down at the sturdy door and cursed himself, knowing he wouldn't be able to break it down alone. He needed reinforcements. "I've got you," Maxwell promised. "Hold on baby, I'll get you out of here."

You were a sobbing mess when you heard Maxwell run away, his footsteps growing quieter and quieter. For a split second, knowing he was on the other side of the door, you felt safe and protected. For the first time you felt cared for. You held your head in your hands and cried, back pressed against the door in hope that Max would come back. "I love you Maxwell Lord." you weeped, knowing he was already gone.

Maxwell practically dived back into the limo. "Everything alright?" Jeeves asked with a raised eyebrow.

Maxwell didn't answer, instead pulling out the carphone and dialling 911. "Hello, I'd like to report a kidnapping."

Your crying became louder as you wondered how exactly this all went wrong. You didn't want to lose Maxwell. You wished you had stayed with him and told him that you loved him back. If he even did love you… his revelation came from him when he was drunk. You didn't know what would be next in your arrangement with Maxwell.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Tristan asked, padding out his bedroom in a pair of shorts and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Do you know how early it is?" 

"I'm sorry." you garbled, wiping your tears away feeling embarrassed. You always hated him seeing you like this. Vulnerable. Weak.

He focused his vision on your curled up body leaning against the door and laughed. You scowled as he bellowed and pointed his finger at you. "Why are you waiting by the door? You want to leave?" He laughed. "You're not leaving."

"I'm not yours to keep here." you spat, shakily rising to your feet. Tristan picked up a magazine from the mantle piece and thrusted it into your chest. A red top tabloid with your name written all over. The headline was insulting and you felt your heart sink. Your jaw dropped slightly and your head began to feel hazy. In just the span of two weeks you had made a public name for yourself, and it wasn't exactly a good one. You didn't understand. You had done nothing wrong.

Tristan snatched the magazine out of your hands and turned to the glossy double page spread with your face all over it. "Rumour has it, you're his… what's the technical term? He uses you for sex?" Tristan, as usual, was being incredibly condescending.

"He doesn't use me." you shot back but your voice was no higher than a mere whisper. "Our arrangement isn't like that at all."

Tristan's eyes widened. "So it's an arrangement?" he smirked, his hand raising to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed over your skin as he looked into your glazed eyes. You looked down at the floor, embarrassed and annoyed with yourself. You had said too much. Tristan pressed his finger into your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. "Out of all people, I figured Maxwell Lord would know not to mix business with pleasure." Tristan chuckled.

You couldn't bring yourself to reply. You didn't know what to say. Your mind raced back to the first night you spent together, when you signed his contract and he called you nothing but an asset to his business. It angered you so much, and despite you both moving past it, Tristan's words brought up that same familiar hurt once more.

The hurt bubbled within you and you felt your tears prick your eyes. Had you really been so foolish to let yourself fall for a man like Maxwell Lord? Was Tristan right? He couldn't be…

"Are you- are you crying?" Tristan chuckled, taking a step towards you and kneeling down, breaking any distance. "Oh sweet girl, don't cry," he cooed and you felt your stomach twist into a knot. "Men like him… they aren't worth it." he shrugged non chalently. You were about to reply when you felt a loud thud on the door you were leaning against, followed by another bang. You gasped, scrambling to your feet and hurrying as far away from the door as you could get to. "What the fuck is going on?" Tristan snapped, glaring at you. His eyes flicked between you and the door which was already fraying at the edges, wood splintering out in places.

You were speechless, your lips parted in a perfect o shape as you watched the door get smashes open by the police. You stood there, a shaking bundle of nerves as they stormed the apartment, immediately grabbing Tristan and handcuffing him. "What the fuck?!" Tristan bellowed.

You watched them drag Tristan out of his own apartment, not saying a single word to you. Just a few moments later, Maxwell showed up. He cautiously padded into Tristan's apartment, but when his eyes met yours, he practically bolted towards you.

You fell into his arms, tears falling and dampening his suit as he held you tight and smoothed out your hair, quietly shushing you. "I've got you." he whispered and you felt your whole body loosen up as you cried into him. You felt safe again.

"Max," you gasped, choking out a sob. He gently pulled you away from him, and wiped the tears away from your eyes, his hands cupping your cheeks. "Thank you." were the only words you were able to muffle out.

"He will never hurt you ever again." Maxwell promised. "I'll make sure of it."

You didn't know how, but you trusted him. You believed him. You loved him. "Please, can we go home?" You asked him with a hopeful smile.

"I'll walk you back to your apartment." Maxwell offered, sliding his hand in yours.

"N-no," you shook your head. "This building holds too many bad memories. I mean…" you felt yourself trail off, wondering if you were being too forward.

"Oh," Maxwell gulped. "Remember what I told you when we first made our arrangement?" 

You spent a moment thinking. He had said a lot of things… Maxwell chuckled when he saw your mind wander off, trying to remember. "You will want for nothing. What is mine, is yours. C'mon, Jeeves is outside. Let's go home." he smiled and you felt yourself begin to bubble up again, wondering how on earth you had gotten so lucky in such a short space of time. You had found your hero.

Now, it was just a week before Christmas day and you had no idea what was to come.

December Magic: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130 @autumnleaves1991-blog @justanotherblonde23 @softly-sad @laaadygisbooornex3 @kaelyn-lobrutto24

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[oraclekleo]

Hello kleo!! Hope you are having a good day!

I saw your BHS game open so I decided to give it a shot. I'm on the switch side leaning sub. But really depends on my moods n emotions...Let's say I could get a little sadistic n rough(with consent ofc).

Seo Joon- blind fold: idk something about his energy.

Wi Ha joon- def Handcuffs. I think he'd look cute cuffed up lol. Or me with him lol. Both the above men i don't mind switching.

But this man right here....Chang Wook? I'm def domming tf out of this man... So Spanking it is!

Aquarius Sun, Scorpio Moon, Cancer Rising!

Strictly 18+ Content ahead. Minors do not engage!

Spread: BHS TarotDeck(s): Tarot of Sexual Magic, Tarot of Casanova, Erotic Fantasy Tarot

Park Seo Joon Blindfolded by You - 3 of Pentacles, II The High Priestess (Erotic Fantasy Tarot)

Both the cards speak of sharing and opening up. When you blindfold Seo Joon, he’s likely to experience a feeling of liberation. Being temporarily blind gives him the opportunity to rely on his other senses, opening the gateway to a more sensual side of himself. Being blindfolded makes him finally see what’s behind the veil of a very professional and civilised man and he can finally give in to his more primitive and lustful self by sharing his more daring fantasies with you. When he can’t see your facial expressions he might become more courageous about telling you what it is he wants in bed (or any other place you find fit). Seo Joon is likely to truly enjoy being blindfolded, even more than he would expect as it’s actually not making him a vulnerable victim of your love, it allows him to better tune in with you and cooperate more naturally with you when he’s not distracted by the thoughts on how it looks. 

Wi Ha Joon Handcuffed by You - 7 of Cups, 6 of Wands (Tarot of Sexual Magic)

Ha Joon is not likely to be the one suggesting handcuffing but once you come up with the idea, he might become curious and agree on it with you, while giving some terms which need to be followed. Once you have your guy nicely tied up and wrapped like a birthday present, Ha Joon is quick to forget any terms and conditions he ever mentioned and give in to the play. The feeling of being at mercy to you and whatever you decide to do with / to him might become pretty intoxicating for someone who’s used to leady and being on the top. It’s a completely new sensation and as such it’s exciting and joyful for Ha Joon. You might want to include a lot of touching and skinship while he’s shackled like a prisoner of your love. Don’t be afraid to experiment with a variety of textures and different levels of pressure - light touch or tickle with a feather, harder grab, biting his nipples… Ha Joon is no porcelain doll, he can endure quite a lot as long as there’s pleasure in it. He might become pretty vocal, both encouraging and praising you and just moaning, hissing, growling, panting and screaming your name.

Ji Chang Wook Spanked by You - 3 of Cups, 9 of Swords (Tarot of Casanova)

Chang Wook is certainly not the one pitching the idea of being spanked but you might instinctively sense the right time to suggest this to him. Especially if he’s troubled and worried in his head or anxious at the time, taking his thoughts away from the matter can help him relax. And you can be sure as hell that he won’t think about anything else but spanking once you start. While it might start kinda serious and cautious for both of you, it’s likely to turn into a merry play pretty quickly. This practice is likely to somewhat elevate any kind of burden off of his chest and allow him to just enjoy the new sensations and possibilities. You might want to include some kind of game as well, making spanking either punishment or reward (or both, whipping with a flogger is punishment, spanking with your hand is a reward because sometimes your hand might slip and ‘accidentally’ grab and stroke a different body part, oops 😂). Spanking Chang Wook might also encourage him to share any worry with you as in that position he’s simply going to do anything you tell him to do. In the end, spanking is both a relief and joy for Chang Wook.

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