#that silver chain around his neck had me clenching my thighs together

[flowerandblood]

The Song of Loneliness

The Fall from The Heavens Universe Chapter

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, trauma related to sexual experiences and their description, sexual experience of a minor (brothel), manipulation, swearing, description of discomfort associated with menstruation ]

[ description: The events that took place between the beginning and the end of chapter two of The Fall from the Heavens, i.e. the memories of Aemond and Rhaenys as children and later, just before their reunion after many years. ]

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

My other works: Masterlist

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Rhaenys ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

"Where are we going?" He asked uncertainly, seeing her excited face, which meant she had a plan in her mind that he might not like. Her lips curved into a wide, happy smile at the thought.

"To the Dragon's Pit." She explained, and her uncle froze in half-motion and stopped.

"I don't want to." He replied coldly.

She looked at him in surprise, seeing his discouraged, distant gaze, his jaw clenched in discomfort.

"Don't you trust me?" She asked softly, bestowing on him a comforting, warm smile, meant to add credibility to her attitude. Her betrothed swallowed hard and hesitated, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"– I – well – I do –" He muttered finally, defeated.

Although she tried to converse with him on various light topics that usually aroused his interest, such as their lineage or history, her uncle remained sullen and silent, gazing indifferently out the window of the carriage that had taken them from the Red Keep to their destination.

When they stepped outside, the dragon guardians were already waiting for them, assuring her that everything was ready.

Larax squirmed with joy at the sight of her, the sound she made reminding her of the squeal of a small child – she was still quite tiny, her silver-blue scales shining as she swept her wings, hopping in place as if to show her how happy she was to see her.

She was like a puppy that could breathe fire.

Her uncle seemed shocked – he walked a few steps behind her, aloof but intrigued at the same time. Her dragoness, although wearing a long chain around her neck, had quite a lot of freedom of movement and came running to her as soon as she knelt down in front of her, cuddling her head into her breast. She lifted her gaze to her betrothed, smiling.

"Marriage is sharing everything, becoming one. This means that Larax belongs to you from now on as well, and I wanted you to get acquainted." She said excitedly.

Her uncle swallowed hard, clearly shocked, his lips twitching in a shy smile of disbelief, from which heat filled her heart.

He knelt down beside her, but stepped back immediately, frightened as Larax hissed, in her dragon mind defending her from the strange intruder.

"Daor, Larax! Lykiri! Lykiri." She called out, stroking her back reassuringly, wanting her to understand that they were in no danger.

"– give me your hand –" She said softly, extending her palm to him. Her uncle allowed her to take his fingers in hers, and after a moment, keeping them entwined together, she placed his hand on her head.

Feeling the familiar and unfamiliar scent at the same time, Larax froze, breathing anxiously, as if wondering how she should react. She could hear her uncle's heavy, excited breath behind her as she began to stroke her scales with his palm in soft, slow movements.

Larax calmed down after a moment, recognising that, indeed, the small creature that accompanied her rider was no threat to them. She laid her head on her thigh, gazing at the strange newcomer, and she let go of his hand, allowing him to touch her alone.

Her betrothed leaned slightly over her shoulder to get a better look at her dragoness, keeping a safe distance, however, so as not to provoke her.

"– what do you think of her? –" She asked lightly.

Her uncle was silent for a long moment, stunned.

"– she is beautiful –"

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Aemond ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

"A man should not run after a woman, Your Grace. It's a sign of desperation and weakness not befitting your position." Criston Cole said to him coolly, taking him aside after one of their trainings in the courtyard.

He had hurt her by not letting her kiss his cheek in the presence of the others and he just wanted to fix that, make her smile again.

He swallowed hard, feeling a wave of shame and discomfort fill his lower abdomen at his harsh words and impatient gaze.

"– she's good to me – I just didn't want her to be sad – we're betrothed –" He muttered, looking at the ground beneath his feet, embarrassed by this conversation.

Cristone Cole looked away and shook his head, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing.

"– it's just appearances, my Prince – her mother wants her to manipulate you and push you away from your brother and your family –" He replied dryly, and his words left him stunned.

"– she had never –"

"– only a naïve man allows a woman to rule over his mind – keep your dignity and do not allow her into your heart as anyone other than the mother of your future children –"

For some reason, his words and their overtones hurt him deeply and he himself did not know what he should do, what was expected of him.

The septon had always told him that a good husband looks out for the safety and well-being of his wife, listens to her, and sometimes allows himself to be weak in her arms in order to experience relief.

He said that if his wife reciprocates his endeavours, their marriage will be peaceful and successful.

Indeed, by following these rules and observing her efforts towards him, he felt a pleasant contentment and satisfaction. His niece did not impose on him or order him to change his habits, just as he did not require her to do so.

What's more, she supported him every step of the way in his daily duties, and in moments of sadness or fear, which he refused to admit out loud, she allowed him to take refuge in the warm embrace of her soft arms.

The thought that he should reject all this and build a wall between them seemed to him, despite all his doubts, inappropriate and hurtful to her when she was trying so hard to make him content.

He decided that when she came to his chamber at night he would tell her not to do it again and send her away.

She, as soon as she crossed the threshold of his quarters, ran to his bed and jumped onto the sheets, hiding under the soft, warm furs at his side, sighing in relief, immediately snuggling into his body. He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant shiver run down his spine, and thought they could lie like that for a while before he told her of his decision.

"– I am grateful to you for being so good to me –" She whispered, lifting her head, wanting to look at him. He nodded, not embracing her as was his usual habit, looking dully ahead. She raised herself on her arm, seeing his complete lack of reaction at her words, frowning.

"– uncle? – is something bothering you? – you can tell me –" She added immediately, moving closer to him, leaning over his face – her eyes were shining in the darkness of his chamber, her dark brows arched in sadness and worry at his condition.

He swallowed hard, looking at her with his lips parted, his hand involuntarily touching her cheek.

It was soft and warm.

Do not come here again.

He thought that phrase in his head, but instead his hand forced her to lean in, her moist, puffy lips pressed against his in a soft, soothing kiss.

He could feel his heart pounding fast, how hot he was with excitement, how his whole body screamed that this was what he wanted, this was what he needed.

Her, as close as possible.

He hugged her to his chest, pressing her face to his neck, and closed his eyes.

"– it's nothing –"

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Rhaenys ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

"I would like to discuss with you… a delicate matter." Said her mother, sitting down next to her a few months after the King had announced her betrothal to her uncle. She nodded, sensing that she was about to hear something important.

"I want you to understand that your nuptials with Alicent's son and what they entail will not take place until you reach the age of fourteen." She said slowly, as if she wanted her daughter to understand exactly every word she spoke.

She nodded her head slowly, looking at her with big eyes, pressing her lips together in some kind of disappointment.

"Why do I have to wait so long?" She asked uncertainly – her mother twisted restlessly in her chair, placing her hand over hers.

"My love, Aegon… from what I've heard, I know he likes the company of girls. That he likes to touch them in places that only a husband can touch his wife. I wanted to ask if his brother, and your betrothed, is also trying…" She did not finish, clearly not knowing how to put into words what she wanted to convey to her.

She cocked her head, curious, understanding after a moment what she meant.

"– does my uncle slip his hand under my nightgown? –" She asked lightly, her mother squeezed her hand tighter at her words, turning pale.

"– yes – yes, my love –"

She shook her head quickly, and Rhaenyra sighed in relief, clenching her eyes.

"– no – but sometimes, when we're alone and we're happy, our lips meet –" She muttered, embarrassed, swinging her legs sitting on a chair that was too high for her.

Her mother laughed under her breath.

"– I see –"

"– is it a sin? – can I expect his child because of this? –" She mumbled out quickly, choking out what she had wanted to ask her for a long time, terrified of the disgrace she would bring upon her betrothed if it turned out that she was carrying his illegitimate offspring.

Rhaenyra burst out laughing, shaking her head, her hand stroking her hair affectionately.

"– no, my love – it is merely a tender expression of affection that can be shared with one's betrothed –" Her mother replied calmly, and she smiled broadly, comforted and reassured, thinking that she would place many warm, sweet kisses on her betrothed's lips that evening.

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Aemond ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

"– no – forgive me, Princess, but it is impossible – your request is unworthy of a lady –" He heard Criston Cole's voice directed towards his betrothed as he stepped out into the courtyard as he did every morning – he escorted her away with a surprised, uneasy look as she nodded her head and walked away, without bestowing even a single warm word on him, as was her custom.

He did not dare to ask Ser Criston what she was requesting; he found out later, when, concerned by her absence in the library, he paid her a visit in her chamber.

She was lying on her bed, her face red from the tears she had surely shed immediately after their brief exchange of words – she was no longer crying now, but her eyebrows arched in pain when he asked her what had happened.

"– my mother gave me a dagger so I could defend myself when I am alone – but what good is it to me if I can't use it? – I wanted Ser Criston to teach me how to hold it – I wanted to be like your Visenya –" She confessed sadly, her last words like a mumble, her eyes flooded with tears again as she burst into sobs.

He stared at her with wide eyes, not knowing completely what to say or think about her unusual request.

She was a woman and the image of her holding a weapon seemed unnecessary and ridiculous to him, however, her words planted a seed of uncertainty in his heart.

What if someone harms her in his absence?

Threaten her life?

Once he was her husband, he thought, he would be her protector by day and night, but until they were married, he could not fulfil that role.

He left her chamber, making her think for certain that he now despised her as well, he, however, returned a moment later with a small straw target in the shape of a man with spots marked on his body. His niece rose on her hands, looking at him with big eyes as the door closed behind him.

"– come here – I will teach you the basics –" He muttered lowly, serious, feeling a pleasant satisfaction at the thought that he would now be her teacher and she would have to obey him.

His betrothed beamed all over, a light, sweet giggle left her lips that made him hot.

"– turn your back on me –" She ordered cheerfully.

"– why? –" He asked.

"– my dagger is hidden only in a place known to me – not even you can know where it is –" She said in an unobjectionable voice – he sighed and rolled his eyes, turning away reluctantly, impatient.

He heard a creak and a quiet rustling, and a moment later his niece was standing beside him with a beautiful short dagger created from Valyrian steel, with a handle in the shape of a dragon's tail, holding it as if she were wielding an axe.

"– you're holding it the wrong way – lower it so that the blade is in horizontal position – yes, just like that –" He praised her as he grabbed her wrist and forced her to lower her arm. She nodded, apparently writing down in her head this important remark.

"– the main rule is: don't cut as if you have a sword, because your opponent will grab your wrist and snatch your weapon away – just stab – at your height, preferably in the stomach or thighs, right here –" He said, demonstrating the move she should make by pretending as if he had the weapon, hitting the spots he mentioned with the front of his clenched fist.

He stepped back and watched with wide-open eyes as his niece, with an expression of great fierceness and anger, began to stab the hay puppet, as if she actually imagined that it was someone who wanted to harm her.

"– enough – enough, surely it's already dead –" He muttered, pulling her away, looking at her in disbelief, thinking that with such a commitment perhaps she would even be able to wield a sword.

"– did I do it well, uncle? –" She asked excitedly, curls of her hair stuck to her cheeks red with emotion.

"– yes – very well –"

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Rhaenys ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

After her uncle lost an eye and her mother remarried, they stopped visiting the Red Keep. Her betrothed, to her despair, did not write back to her first letter or the many that followed, in which she asked him about his health and when she would be able to see him again.

Accustomed to his daily presence, despite being surrounded by her siblings, she felt lonely. Her bed was cold and empty without his warm body beside her, without his tender hand to stroke her head as she fearfully awoke again and again from a terrible nightmares.

One morning she woke up feeling discomfort between her thighs. She moved higher, wanting to look at the liquid that covered her skin and screamed involuntarily when she saw it was blood.

Her mother, as soon as she found out, came to reassure her.

"Do you remember our conversation when I told you that a woman blooms like a flower? This is what has just happened. It means you will be able to give your future husband children." Said her mother, covering her tightly with furs, already lying in a clean nightgown and smallclothes to prevent her from dirtying the bedding again.

She nodded, and as soon as Rhaenyra left, she broke into tears.

Although it was supposed to be an uplifting moment, it wasn't at all – she felt discomfort and contractions in her lower abdomen, she didn't have the strength to get out of bed, and she felt blood flowing again and again from between her thighs.

She thought it was a disgusting feeling, and she felt even worse at the thought that it meant she would soon be ready to get married.

Her betrothed didn't want her, and her mother began to speak more and more boldly about her possible nuptials with her cousin.

She closed her eyes at this thought and swallowed hard, holding back the tears of regret that were again pushing against her eyelids.

That day she took out the parchment and quill again, thinking in the back of her mind that even if he threw her letters into the fire and didn't read them, she needed to confide in someone and she wanted it to be him.

She began to write, for the first time not thinking about the content of what she had to communicate, letting her thoughts flow.

Today, something terrible happened, and although I know these things don't concern you or may even cause you disgust, I can't confide in anyone else about my suffering. My bloody flower has blossomed. My mother says that I have now become a woman, but I feel nothing of the sort. I feel dirty, I feel pain, I feel ashamed. I don't want to be a woman. I don't want to be a wife. I don't want to be a mother.

She cried out loud as she wrote the last sentence and rolled the parchment up, ordering it to be sent to King's Landing into the hands of the Prince before she could change her mind.

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Aemond ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

To his surprise, despite not answering her, he would find her letters waiting for him, lying on the top of his table exactly every two months.

At first he never wanted to read them – he even thought about throwing them into the fire, but then curiosity won out and he would sit down in front of the fireplace, unrolling the parchment.

He read what she had written, imagining her voice, that she stood behind him and whispered it all in his ear, embracing him, confiding in him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart, feeling the suffering behind every letter she wrote down for him, her expression of longing and sadness, loneliness and loss.

He himself was more lost than ever.

His brother surprised him when, on his Name Day, when he turned exactly thirteen, he announced to him that it was time to get it wet.

He did not understand what he meant.

It was only when he led him under cover of darkness to one of the buildings he had evidently visited himself that he noticed with embarrassment the curves of the half-naked women they passed, whom Aegon evidently knew, greeting them along the way.

"– we should not be here – our mother –" He muttered, but his brother shushed him.

"– shut your mouth, mummy's boy – today you will become a man –" He hissed, tapping his index finger against his forehead, as if to show him that he was a fool, a silly little boy.

He clenched his jaw in rage at the thought, recognising that, indeed, he was already a grown man.

Or at least he thought he was.

The woman he took him to was pretty, but much older than him.

He thought she could be their mother.

When Aegon left them alone he did not know what to do with himself – he felt both excitement and embarrassment at the same time, not really knowing whether he wanted it or not.

Aegon said that laying with a woman was very pleasant and gave a feeling of immense relief.

He wanted to feel relief.

The woman reached out to him encouragingly, telling him not to be ashamed, to lie comfortably on the bed and let her take care of himself.

He didn't know what she meant, but decided that since she was more experienced, he should listen to her.

The feeling of being inside her was terrifyingly foreign and uncomfortable – he swallowed hard, looking wide-eyed at her stomach, afraid to look at her face, clenching his hands into fists on the sheets.

She has never touched me like this, he thought.

Rhaenys had never touched me like this.

He was furious with himself, but he felt tears burning under his eyelids at the thought, and though he pressed his lips together, one by one they ran down the sides of his face.

"– no –" He muttered and shook his head. "– not like this –"

The woman understood vaguely what he meant, an expression of sympathy on her face from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and throat.

"– Prince Aegon paid me for your fulfilment –"

It wasn't until a few years later that he realised he wasn't even completely hard at the time – that effect was only achieved when she climbed off him and took his manhood in her hand, squeezing it up and down until his warm seed leaked out.

He felt relief, but not the kind he wanted.

In fact, he felt even worse than before.

What would she say if she saw this?

She would be disgusted with me, he thought and cried out loud, walking back to the Red Keep alone, not waiting for Aegon to finish whatever it was he was doing with those girls.

He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to know about it.

When he returned to his chamber, he took out all the letters she had sent him over the years and placed them beside him on his bed. He closed his eyes and was only relieved when he realised that they had soaked up her scent.

The smell of vanilla.

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Rhaenys ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

One day she woke up, breathing fast, feeling a pleasant heat and tickling in her lower abdomen. She dreamt that her uncle had flown to Dragonstone and spent the night with her despite her cries and pleas.

She didn't know what exactly could happen during this act, not being aware of all the details, but she knew that he would put the part of his body that was in his breeches between her thighs to fill her with his seed.

In the dream, his hot, wet lips clung to hers in greedy, possessive kisses, his breath heavy as his broad hands roamed all over her body, squeezing her breasts and buttocks, until he finally forced his way inside her with the sudden, sharp thrust of his hips.

In her sleep, she felt no pain – moreover, his deep, quick pushes and his low groans of pleasure made the space between her thighs swell and pulsate, making her feel tense and uncomfortable as soon as she awoke, drenched in sweat.

She closed her eyes, feeling on the one hand relieved and on the other disappointed that this was not true – the worst part, however, was that the unpleasant, almost painful tickling sensation between her thighs did not go away.

She decided to check with her hand what this place was, what would happen if she touched it.

She tentatively lifted the material of her nightgown and traveled down between her warm thighs – a quiet sigh escaped her lips as her soft fingers stroked her moist, fleshy folds, all leaking and sticky.

She felt a pleasant shiver run along her spine and some kind of tingle deep inside her, her nipples and lips puffy with desire.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, digging her fingertips deeper into her soft skin – she shuddered and sighed as she touched the small, swollen bud between her folds – surprised, she found that when she touched it directly, it felt almost painful, but as she began to gently press and rub the area around it, a wonderful wave of heat began to rise in her lower abdomen.

Her breath became heavy as she imagined it was his hand touching her as he came back for her, whispering that he had wanted to do this to her for a long time, that he thought only of her, that he would now take her for himself.

She imagined his hot lips clinging to hers, his fingers sliding deep inside her, wanting to feel her, and she threw her head back with a quiet, surprised moan, feeling a sudden, wonderful relief.

She swallowed hard, realising after a moment that it was her own fingers that had slipped deep into her tight slit, her hot, moist walls clenching around them again and again together with waves of delicious pleasure surging through her whole body.

She stared dully ahead, panting loudly, feeling that as soon as the wonderful sensation passed, a complete and terrifying emptiness filled her heart and mind.

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Aemond ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

After what had happened in the brothel, he would not allow himself to be touched this way by any woman. He told himself that he simply didn't want to experience a similar humiliation, to cry at the thought that the one he fucked wasn't the one he dreamed of at night, but the truth was that even if he wanted to, he couldn't get fully aroused by the sight of another woman.

Even as he watched his servants bustling around his chamber, preparing his morning meal, looking at their pleasingly girlish shapes, their breasts and hips, his musings always fled to one thought.

Was this what her body looked like now?

Blossomed like a flower, full of grace and soft, feminine shapes?

He imagined that her bare skin would be soft as silk under the touch of his rough hand, that she would be obscenely warm, quivering with desire under his body. He imagined her breasts, plump and swollen, filling his palm perfectly, her little nipples that he would like to lick with his tongue.

He pressed his lips together, always feeling the same thing – his manhood swelling painfully and twitching in his breeches, causing him discomfort on the verge of pain.

It ended the same way each time – as soon as he was left alone in his chamber, instead of concentrating on his food, he quickly untied the material and slid his hand under it, grasping his half-hard, throbbing erection.

He began to squeeze it gently, merely teasing it, pressing his lips together, suppressing the shuddering moan of delight that wanted to burst from his throat at the thought that it was her fingers caressing him so wonderfully tenderly, it was her lips whispering that they didn't have to hurry.

He mumbled the name he'd given her himself in his head, feeling the tears welling under his eyelids, thinking with pain how much he missed her, that deep down he didn't loathe her, that all he desired was for her to return.

"– Rhaenys –" He cried out, tears running down his cheeks as his warm seed spilled over his fingers, relief, pleasure and pain surging through his loins at the same time, shaking his body.

He stared at his empty silver plate, panting heavily and pressed his lips together, furious and bitter, then burst out into silent sobs like a small child.

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Rhaenys ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

"– it has come to my knowledge that Alicent has decided to make a pact with Borros Baratheon – she wants Prince Aemond to marry one of his daughters –" Her mother said during one of their suppers together in Dragonstone; she froze, feeling her heart stop in her throat, a cold, unpleasant shiver running down her spine as she raised her gaze to her.

"– we cannot leave this unanswered – after consulting with Daemon, we have together decided that you should marry the son of my dear cousin, Lord Arryn –" She added, taking one of the platters from her husband.

Daemon, seated next to her mother, gave her a quick look in which she seemed to catch a glimpse of sympathy.

She lowered her gaze, feeling her whole body involuntarily begin to tremble, tears of despair and disbelief gathered under her eyelids. She felt Baela's hand on hers, but she pulled away from her and got up from the table, leaving the chamber, bursting into sobs as soon as she ran out into the corridor.

Although she covered her mouth with her hand, she was unable to stop the moans that ripped from her throat or what she saw in her mind.

Him, lying on top of another woman, touching her naked body, whispering in the ear of Lord Baratheon's daughter that she was more beautiful than his niece, that he loved her more deeply than he had ever loved her.

She locked herself in her chamber, wishing to be alone.

She knew Daemon would come to her.

He always came.

As she lay on the bed, staring blankly at the wall in the distance, her father sat by the fireplace, staring thoughtfully into the flames, playing with the ring on his little finger.

"– your mother is doing this for your own good – she couldn't leave this insult unanswered –" He said coldly and maliciously, as if he was impatient with the fact that she was pitying herself.

She did not answer him.

She heard him sigh heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, bowing his head as if he had no strength for this conversation.

"– my spies in the Red Keep say that he has changed beyond recognition – that he is a cold, cruel man – that he calls you a little whore –" He said indifferently, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, tears of humiliation and pain one by one began to flow down her face.

"– give up your dreams of a man who has already disrespected you for years – his feelings for you have disappeared along with his fucking eye –"

- ✦ - ✦ - ✦ Aemond ✦ - ✦ - ✦ -

"– have you heard the word from Dragonstone, brother? –" Aegon asked him during one of the suppers, his brother's mind and sight already a tad clouded by the wine he so adored.

He threw him a brief, discouraged glance, their mother twisting restlessly in her chair.

"– Aegon –"

"– your would-be betrothed will soon become the Lady of the Eyrie, and her cousin will be given the honour of putting his little cock inside her –" He sneered, and he felt his jaw and hands clench, a shiver of discomfort, horror and humiliation running along his back at the very thought.

"– enough –" Their mother said.

"– why? – after all, my little brother no longer holds any affection towards her – am I wrong, brother? – what did you call her before she became a little whore in your eyes? – let me think – ah, I remember – Rhaenys –"

He stood up from the table, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, a sea of memories filled with her surging through his mind making him feel as if he had begun to suffocate.

He heard Aegon chuckle behind him as he left the room panting with rage, bursting into his chamber with a loud slamming of the door.

He opened the drawer with his key and slid it out with an aggressive gesture, pulling out all the letters he had received from her over the years and holding them in his trembling hands, he stopped in front of the fire.

He stared at the flames, hearing himself breathe heavily, droplets of cold sweat running down his back at the memory of what his brother had said.

Your would-be betrothed will soon become the Lady of the Eyrie.

He pressed his lips together, crushing the letters in his hands, and drew in the air loudly, feeling with shame that he felt like bursting into tears. He sat down on the floor, leaning over and laid his forehead on his knees, hugging her letters, her words to him, to his heart.

[torawro]

yes i think i need therapy and a scotch on ice after watching that episode 🙂 cause WHAT

and no it wasn’t just you, i also took it personally 😭 i was a mess when we actually SAW marc switch out with steven even as a kid, when the mom started beating him, when she was practically banging on the door like a deranged person— it was all too much.

i had my theories from the very beginning of the show that their mom was dead and that’s why she never picked up the phone and it made me so sad to watch steven realize that she wasn’t “afraid of telesales people” :((( but i also had a hunch that there was something deeper to steven and it only was confirmed when they were strolling down memory lane and why steven couldn’t remember some things about the past and when it showed marc and the little brother randall doing impersonations of that movie they like

THERES MORE BUT THIS IS GETTING TOO LONG THIS SHOW IS SO GOOOD AND I WANNA KISS MARC AND STEVEN ON THEIR FOREHEADS

babe. BABE. pls tell me you’ve seen the latest moon knight episode……there’s so much to unpack that i wanna talk about and i don’t have anyone to ramble on about this with

hi, welcome to moon knight episode 5 therapy with annie, how may i help you?

no but seriously everything about that episode was beautiful and gut-wrenching and it had me crying and spitting my drink

did everyone else take it so personally or just me?

[katsumiiii]

imagining you and katsuki getting ready for some type of event. maybe a hero gala or get together where professional clothing is mandatory. even though he was formally invited and practically begged to at least show his face, he wouldn’t budge on his decision of not attending. he snarled and shook his head, claiming ‘bullshit like that’ wasn’t worth his time.

but of course, you being the more social one out of you two, you managed to talk the man into going. peering up at him with sparkling doe eyes, bottom lip puffing out slightly over the top. a menace is what he called you, before trudging off to scrounge around his closet space.

you both had decided on black and white as the color scheme, simple yet flattering to each of your assets. you lightly place powder on the corners of your cheeks, pursing your lips in deep concentration. katsuki always complained about your makeup usage. said he didn’t see the point when you were already naturally stunning. each time you would brush him off, continuing to apply a light coating of lip gloss on your plump lips.

“baby, you seen my chain?” katsuki peers from around the doorway, eyes trailing your backside.

“mhm, yeah should be on top of the dresser!” you turn to make eye contact with the male, teeth parting behind glossed lips.

“m’kay.”

finished with the conversation, you continue to get yourself together. fluffing your blackened tresses while pushing your breasts together once more. “so pretty.” you mumbled, fluttering your eyes at the mirror in front of you.

“you ready?” katsuki questions, shutting the closet door shut.

“yeah! gimme one sec!” you shuffle towards your milky white red bottoms, placing each one delicately upon your feet.

“the hell you taking so long for?”

“stop rushing me! i said i was coming!!” with one final look over, you exit the bathroom, grabbing the ends of your dress as you walk. “you didn’t even wanna go to the damn thing, why’re you trying to-”

god he was evil.

standing there all prim and proper, suit tugged around his bulging biceps and rock hard pectorals. he was a sight to behold, thighs clenching against his skin tight black bottoms. veins popping ever so slightly as he adjusted his collar, red eyes skimming the fabric below him.

his signature silver chain hung low around his neck, the bottom half disappearing into his undershirt, the top two buttons deliciously loosened, showing only but a sliver of skin.

all of this was just too much.

“you gonna keep staring or r’we leaving sweetheart?” his voice shook you, eyes darting back towards his face, his oh so fucking smug face.

“what are you wearing?” you cock your head in mock confusion, wrapping your arms around your center.

“hah? the hell do you mean what am I wearin’?” katsuki staggers towards you, hot palms connecting with your plush hips.

“I mean, what are you wearing, katsuki?” you repeat yourself, salivating at the close proximity between you two.

“m’wearing a suit.”

“obviously, but why do you look like that?”

katsuki smirks haughtily, his forehead knocking against your own as he closes the gap between you two. “look like what?”

you shrug your shoulders, eyes darting to peer at anything but his beaming gaze. he firmly grasps the bottom of you chin, tilting your head to face his. “use your words sweetheart.” he squishes the sides of your cheeks, eyes crinkling at your annoyed expression.

“you jus’ look good.” you mumbled, lashes fluttering.

“hm, y’think so?” he leans forward to place a gentle kiss against your lips, chuckling at your attempt to follow after him.

“I don’t wanna go anymore kats.” you pout, though satisfied with your decision. you couldn’t just allow him to simply walk out looking like fucking adonis in a goddamned suit, it would be immoral.

“thought you said this would be a good opportunity for me?” he teases, squeezing your cheeks once more for good measure.

“don’t care, let’s stay home.” you wrap your arms around his waist, loving the way his abdomen flexed in response.

“y’sure? don’t wanna see your friends n’shit?”

“our friends, and no. would rather stay home.”

katsuki grins, eyes shifting, soaking in your pouted lips and slightly heated cheeks. “alright, lemme jus’ get out this suit-”

“no. the suit stays on.”

@mypimpademia

[moonxbabe]

vinnie hacker smut - take it out on me -

hi readers - this was another request I had, not my best work and also pretty short so I apologize but hope you like it - also - this story has a bit of that cigarette incident with Vinnie, but I do NOT care that he smokes, sadly I find it attractive (I know, I'm the worst) but anyway Its just a story.

warning: smut 18+

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vinnie groans exiting his now stalled car on the side of the road. He slams the door closed causing Jett to jump as he gets out as well. 

“Let me make some calls so someone can come out here and get us, dont stress,” Jett assures him as best as he can but he already knows Vinnies had a rough day and there's only so much he can say to make it better. 

Vinnie moves both his hands to the back of his neck holding it tightly pacing by the front of the car ignoring Jetts attempt at comfort. He pulls out his phone and opens your text thread typing. 

Vinnie: I'm having the worst day. 

You read his text and sigh knowing it was coming. A few hours ago Tik Tok room also blew up a post at their weekly attempt to “Cancel Vinnie Hacker” along with his meeting regarding the boxing match that he never got paid for. Things just weren't going his way today and when that happens he falls deep into the dark. 

You: Come over?

Vinnie: I'm stuck on the side of the road. I don't even want to talk about it. I'm turning my phone off. 

You read his text and slightly frowned. You knew he was in a bad mood but you hated when he pushed you away and wouldn't even let you help. You decided to grab your things and go to the Hype House to wait for him to get back. 

                                                       ---------

Vinnie storms into his bedroom slamming the room shut startling you as you sit on his bed slowly closing your laptop. He turns around and slams his first against the back of the door leaning his head against it for a moment before turning around to press his back to it and slides down taking his head in his hands. 

“Hey hey, let's breathe for a second?” You say softly approaching him, getting down to sit in front of him. You touch his arms gently stroking them softly with your thumbs. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” He finally responds after a few moments and sighs, leaning his head back against the door. He takes one of your hands and squeezes it softly, intertwining your fingers. 

“You didn't, I'm just worried about you,” You brought his hand up to kiss it softly. He closes his eyes for a minute before opening them.

“I'm just tired, tired of everything,” He lets go of your hand and slowly gets up “I need a cigarette” He walks over to his dresser pulling out the box. 

“Vinnie,” you say with a warning as he pulls one out of the box and attempts to find a lighter. 

“Don't start with me, y/n. I'm not in the mood,” He doesn't bother to look at you as he continues to search for the lighter. 

“I promised your mom that I’d make sure you didn't smoke anymore,” you walked over to him annoyed and attempted to take the cigarette out of his mouth. 

“You really think I care about the promise you made to my mom right now, y/n? I don't give a fuck,” He grabs your arms, slightly pushing them away. You frown at his reaction.

“Okay but I don't want you to do it,” you hold back tears as he tries to walk past you but you hold him. He doesn't say anything but attempts his best to avoid eye contact. He knew he was hurting you but he was hurting himself and the battle within him was strong. 

“Stop,” you grab his face with both your hands using your thumbs to stroke his cheeks softly before using one hand to tuck some of his curls away “I know you're hurting right now, but-- but-- this isn't going to help,” you search his face for a moment as he still doesn't look at you, you take a moment before saying anything else “Take it out on me, let me make you feel good,” you say quietly waiting for him to say something, anything. His eyes linger for a moment before finally looking into yours causing your body to somewhat relax. 

He still doesn't say a word, but moves his hand up to grab your neck slightly pulling you closer, his lips crashing onto your kissing you hungerly not wasting a second. He groans softly as you suck at his bottom lip sliding your tongue into his mouth. He moves his other hand deep into your hair, gripping it pulling you even closer to him, you can almost taste his pain. He bites at your bottom lip tugging at it before pulling away to take your hand leading you to the bed. 

“Knees, now.” He says sternly as you nod and get down onto your knees looking up at him. He started to undo his jeans, pushing them down along with his tight boxers freeing his hardness. You bite the inside of your cheek in anticipation as he nods looking down at you giving you permission. He sits at the edge of the bed as you get closer in between his legs. 

You take his dick in your hands stroking it, causing him to let out a soft groan before leaning in closer and slowly taking it into your mouth. His hand quickly finds its way deep into your hair once more grabbing it as he lets out another groan at the feeling. You begin to bob your head up and down his length, allowing your tongue to roam all over before pulling up and using it to gently lick his tip a few times.

“Fuck baby, so good” He moans gripping your hair tighter as he watches you work. Your mouth slides over his dick again, taking in as much as you can using your hands to stroke the rest.

“Be a good girl and take it all,” He groans and pushes your head further down on his cock causing you to slightly gag but you continue as tears form in your eyes. Your hand strokes his balls as your tongue proceeds to lick all over. You begin to feel his dick twitch in your mouth as you slightly hum sending vibrations along it. 

“I'm so close baby, don't stop,” He moans softly, stroking your hair as you keep bobbing your head faster taking him all in as his tip hits the back of your throat. His hips buckle up as he grips your hair once more pulling your head back, you continue to stroke him as your mouth remains open, sticking your tongue out ready for his load. He shuts his eyes and lets out a loud grunt cumming into your mouth as you lick your lips and swallow. 

“My good fucking girl,” He says in a husky tone and wipes off remaining cum from your lips with his thumb shoving it into your mouth, his eyes locked on yours as you suck it clean. His hand slides down to grab your neck again pulling you close. 

“Open,” He says and without hesitation you open your mouth as he leans in to spit in it. You swallow as a slight grin appears on his face, he pulls you in kissing you hard. 

“Such a good little slut for daddy huh?” You slightly bit your lower lip and nod. 

“Do we think she deserves a reward?” His hand slides up to grab your jaw as you both don't break eye contact. 

“Yes daddy,” you almost whine and nod once more. He studies you for a moment before nodding.

“Get up, lay down,” He pats at the edge of the bed, you do as he says and wait for him as he pulls off his tshirt leaving himself completely naked aside from his silver chains around his neck. You bit your lip at the view of him wanting him deep inside you. You press your thighs together but he's quick to push them apart, grabbing the edge of your shorts, pulling them down and throwing them off to the side. 

“Those look so good on you,” He licks his lips at your black lace thong “But sadly they have to come off,” He rips them off tossing them as well. 

“Vinnie I just b--!” you attempt to say but get cut off by his warning look shutting you up. He leans over moving his hand to your neck once more pulling you in to kiss you deeply as his other hand cups your pussy causing you to slightly moan into the kiss. 

He slides two fingers in between your folds feeling your wetness and pulls away to groan softly against your lips. 

“Look at you, so wet for me and I’ve barely touched you,” He rubs your clit causing you to moan once more as your back slightly arches off the bed. He slowly enters two fingers into you pumping them in and out at a steady pace. 

“Vinnie,” you bit your lower lip moving your hand down to grip his. 

“I want to taste you,” He said in a husky tone, getting down pushing your legs even more apart and replacing his thumb on your clit with his tongue sucking at it. 

“Oh my-- don't stop” your hand moved to grip his hair pushing him further in, your eyes rolled back at the pleasure as his fingers continued to work in and out of you at a fast pace. 

“Cum for daddy,” He whispered against your heat before letting his tongue trailed up and down causing your legs to shake. You felt your walls begin to clench around his fingers as he suddenly curled them hitting your g-spot,  you tried to push his head away from the overwhelming pleasure but he didn't budge. 

“V-Vin, I'm about to cum” you moaned loudly gripping his curls harder as your climax took over. He slowly pulled his fingers out, licking them all over as he leaned back down to lick you clean. You groaned softly, closing your legs still sensitive from your over stimulation. 

“Delicious,” He said quietly before leaning over kissing your lips softly. Your eyes fluttered tired from your high. Before you knew it you were flipped over on your stomach and he was behind you.

“Ass up baby,” He growled, giving your behind a hard slap, causing you to wince but you followed his orders quickly. You got on all four as he positioned himself behind you. One hand gripped your hip as the other slid up your back to the back of your neck pushing it down into the bed. 

“I said ass,” He ordered once more as you nodded. Your cheek pressed to the bed sheets as you bit your lower lip nervous but also excited. You liked it when he played rough, but he was also in a bad mood today so you didn't know what to expect. Before you could even have another thought he slammed into you hard causing you to scream gripping the sheets next to you. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight” He groaned at the feeling as he thrusted in and out of you at a fast and hard pace as his anger got the best out of him. It hurt but you tried your best to keep it together in hopes it would get better. Your teeth sunk harder into your bottom lip as your eyes shut feeling him deep inside you as he kept going with no remorse. 

“Vin, slow down” You mumbled moving your hand behind you pushing him back a bit. He grabbed your hand and moved it down to press it above your head into the bed. 

“Take it like the good little slut you are,” His voice husky as he leaned in to growl in your ear, holding your hand in place for a few moments before moving it in between the both of you to slowly rub your clit. His thrusts slowed down a bit but remained just as hard causing you to moan. He rubbed your clit harder as his other hand gripped tightly at your hip keeping a good rhythm going. 

“Yes, yes right there,” you moaned loudly at the feeling as your eyes rolled back, your hips meeting his with every thrust. You could feel his dick in your stomach from how deep he was.

“There she is,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he picked up his pace again. The room filled with skin slapping skin noises as he watched himself slide in and out of you. His hand on your hip slid up your back once more reaching your hair and grabbing it all together tugging at it. It hurt but in the best way. You could feel your climax coming as you turned into a moaning mess. 

“You feel so good baby, I love the way your pussy feels around my dick,” He groaned as his words sent chills down your spine causing your legs to shake. He leaned his head back before lifting his leg up fucking into you hard from a different angle finding your g-spot once again. 

“Holy shit, Vin,” you cried in pleasure as you felt your walls begin to clench around his dick. “I'm about to cum,” 

“Hold it,” He demanded and kept going, wanting to climax at the same time. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as you gripped the sheets tighter. His hand on your clit not moving driving you insane.

“I'm close, don't you dare cum” He groaned as you felt his dick twitch inside of you, feeling like you were ready to explode. 

“Vinnie,” you moaned loudly as he moved his hand shoving you into the bed getting in a few more thrusts.

“Cum baby,” He moaned, stiffening inside you as you immediately came all over his dick. You both rode out your highs as he slowly pulled out of you grabbing a towel to clean you up as you laid there tired and breathless. 

After throwing the towel in his basket he walked back over to the bed as you turned over on your back grabbing a blanket to cover yourself. He laid next to you putting his arm around you pulling you to him as you both stayed silent for a few minutes. 

“Was it too much for you?” He said quietly looking down at you as you hugged into his chest. He felt guilty for taking it out on you.

“No, im fine Vin” you nodded and looked up reassuring him. He gave you a slight smile kissing your forehead. 

“I'm sorry about earlier,” He sighed, “I shouldn't have shoved you like that or said what I said,” He leaned his head back against the headboard. 

“It's okay, I know you're having a rough time right now, I just wish you’d talk to me instead of shut me out,” you looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek stroking it softly with your thumb, he leaned into it closing his eyes for a moment before nodding. 

“I know, its stupid of me, I just get too deep into myself sometimes,” His eyes fluttered open as he reached for your hand placing his over it before taking it and kissing the inside of your palm. 

“I love you, thank you for caring for me and still sticking around even though I can be a shit boyfriend,” He held your hand tightly.

“You don't need to say that and you are not a shit boyfriend Vin, I care because I love you and want you to be happy” you kissed his bare chest as he held onto you tightly. 

“You make me happy, only you” He leans in to kiss you softly as you kiss him back smiling. 

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

feedback is always appreciated <3

[scuttling]

All I Have To Give

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,096 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy kink, Dom/sub, Collar & leash, Oral sex, Deep throating, Restraints, Fingering, Cockwarming, Spanking, Unprotected sex, Come marking, Subspace, Subdrop, Aftercare Summary: A difficult case brings complex emotions, and Aaron is willing to do anything to help the woman he loves process them. *Prompted by @ssamorganhotchner and @angelhotchner and this Link to AO3 or read below! Even after all of his time at the BAU, Aaron knows he hasn’t seen it all, or even close to it—it seems like the atrocities just get worse every year, that humans never fail to find a new way to hurt one another, and that makes him and everyone else on the team constantly question everything they know. He’d like to say it gets easier, but it really doesn’t; you just find new ways to lean on your partners, new ways to cope with the horrors and indecencies the world has to offer.

The case they are currently working on is hitting one profiler especially hard, and because Aaron happens to be in love with her, it’s hitting him hard as well.

“I just can’t imagine waking up one morning and thinking you have your whole life ahead of you, and then some asshole decides he likes the way you look and wants to turn you into his property,” she murmurs that night when they are laying together in the hotel room they share. She had been so strong all day, as always, and then all but collapsed into tears the second the door was closed behind them. “It’s disgusting.”

“I know, baby; cases like these are some of the worst.” He rubs her back with strong hands, pulls her close to his chest. “What can I do for you? I hate to see you like this.” She sniffles, brushes a hand over her eyes, shakes her head.

“I don’t think there’s anything right now. Just being here with me like this, and talking to me, it’s helping. Thank you.” He sighs, because he knows when she gets this upset just talking it out isn’t usually enough, but he has to follow her lead; he just leans in to press his lips to hers, gentle and sweet, and she curls her fingers into his t-shirt and falls asleep with her head against his chest.

The next day, they apprehend the unsub after a standoff; unfortunately, he’d killed the girls when he heard on the police scanner that law enforcement was approaching—all twelve of them. She is the one to find them, and she gets sick, a first in her five years at the BAU. Aaron goes to her side, brings some water for her; her eyes are haunted when she looks up at him.

“Branded,” she croaks, and he doesn’t understand at first, until he looks more closely at the pile of bodies and sees the marks seared into their hips: DM—the unsub’s initials. He exhales deeply, and she turns around and gets sick again.

They take him back to the precinct, try to get a DNA sample, but he won’t agree until his lawyer is present; his story is that his property has been unoccupied for some time, and that he had no idea the girls were being held there, or by whom.

Aaron knows he shouldn’t let her interrogate him. He knows that, but she pleads, and that is something he’s always been unable to resist.

“Branding, huh? Are you that insecure—that worried that the women you called your property wanted nothing to do with you?” she asks, standing with her arms crossed.

“Do you mean my herd? I didn’t just call them my property, honey. They were my property. I owned them. The brands are for everyone else, not for me.” She slams her hands down on the table, sweeps them over the photos she’d laid out in front of him, and they go fluttering to the ground. He can’t see her face, but he knows from her tone that her jaw is clenched, her eyes ablaze.

“You did not own them. Ownership is granted, not taken, you pathetic excuse for a man.” He flexes his hands against the cuffs fixed to the table but says nothing. “You are so powerless that this is the only way you can get it up, isn’t it? By stealing women from their families, their lives, and pretending they’re yours.”

“They are mine!” he shouts, but then he takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “I took… the herd, from their meaningless, mundane lives, I brought them home, I gave them purpose. Being my property gave them value they didn’t have before.”

“And then you killed them, so what’s the value now? How dumb do you look?” She gets right up in his face, and hateful, misogynistic poison glints in his eyes, shows through the calm facade he tries so desperately to project. “It’s like burning your own house down, isn’t it? Only there’s no insurance money to collect here, Darren. All that’s left is your stupid ass and a pile of bodies with your fucking name on them.”

“Don’t call me stupid,” he mutters, and she drums her fingers on the tabletop, almost thoughtfully.

“What would you call it? Risking everything to abduct twelve women only to turn around and kill them so they can’t tell us what a pitiful human being you are?” She leans in closer, and he turns his neck to face away from her, like he’s trying to ignore her. “But the thing is, I don’t need them to tell me,” she whispers. “I know you were a disappointment to your father, a disgrace to your mother. I know the disgusting, depraved things you did to your sister, and now the whole world’s going to know. I’m going to tell everyone.”

Aaron can see the change in him from where he stands on the other side of the glass, and he glances at Morgan, then makes for the door. He’s just gotten it open when the man pulls back and spits on her cheek; she freezes, then reaches up, wipes it off, calm and collected, and grabs his jaw with the hand not covered in saliva.

“Guess what, Darren? You’re my property, now. Your ass belongs to the US Government, and I’m going to personally ensure you never see the light of day again.” She holds her hand up—covered in DNA evidence—and walks past Aaron, out the door. She is unusually quiet on the flight back to DC despite the successful interrogation, pensive and solitary; even on the ride from the airport back home she just leans toward him, silent, hand resting on his thigh, her eyes unfocused.

He knows how hard this case hit her, can only hope that she will open up to him when they get home so he can give her what she needs to get through it. He will do anything, just needs to hear it from her.

“Why don’t we take a bath?” he says softly when they get home, dropping their bags in the laundry room, and he brushes a hand over her cheek. “We can soak the day away, and then maybe if you’re feeling better we can talk about what I can do to help.”

She looks up at him, nods, and they rid each other of their clothes and he draws them a bath, hot and foamy with calming aromatherapy oils she enjoys. She lays along his body, curled up, head on his chest, and he holds her close, massages the back of her neck and her shoulders with gentle fingers.

When they get out and dry off, she heads for her closet, returns with a box as tall as a thick book, a little less wide; she sets it on the bed, perches next to it, and looks up at him with expectant eyes.

“What’s this, baby?” he asks, approaching, and he kneels down, puts his arm around her and sets a hand on the box. “Is it for me?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s for you to put on me. I bought it a few weeks ago, but I… I need it now.” He lifts the lid, pulls out what he thinks at first is a wrist cuff but is actually a thick leather collar, with two metal rings attached to the front, and a… a leash. It’s made of metal chain, not long, with a leather loop to hold, and to say he’s caught off guard by this gift would be an understatement.

“You want me to put this on you? Can I ask why?” She moves toward him, puts her hands on the collar too, looks up at him with wide, wet eyes.

“Because I’m not my own person. You own me.” She tilts her neck, bares it, clearly waiting for him to put it on her, but what she’s saying doesn’t sit right with him, too many parallels to the case that made her so physically and mentally unwell.

“Baby, you are your own person. I love you for exactly who you are, and I would never try to own you, to take who you are away from you.” He presses his palm to her cheek, and she leans into it, kisses it with soft, gentle lips.

“It’s not you taking, daddy, it’s me giving. I need to give this to you—it’s the most important thing I have, and I need you to let me give this to you.” He exhales deeply, still not sold on the idea; she may think she wants this in the moment, feeling low as she is, but, what if she changes her mind? What if she no longer trusts his judgement because he plays into this when she’s not at her most clear-headed?

“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into her eyes, checking them for hesitation, but she only nods; he moves his hand from her cheek, gently pulls the collar out of her grip and brings it to her throat, buckles it at the nape of her neck. She sighs, something like relief when he leans back; she wets her lips, and her eyes are heavy.

“You own me, daddy. I’m yours, see?” She tilts her neck again, but all he sees is that it’s tight against her skin, maybe uncomfortably so. He frowns.

“Is it too tight? It looks too tight. I think we should take it off; maybe we can try again another night, when you didn’t have such a hard day.” He moves his hands to the back of her neck, wants to unbuckle it, but she gets upset almost instantly, looking down at her empty hands like they’re causing her pain. He covers them with his own, shushes her softly. “Oh, what is it, sweet girl? Daddy’s right here, it’s okay.”

“I just wanted to please you, daddy. Your name is on me, and I thought you would like it, but if you don’t want me this way…” That makes him pause, and he brings her hands to his lips, kisses them.

“What do you mean, my name is on you? What does that mean, baby?” She pulls her hand out of his, moves her hair out of the way, and then he sees it: his initials, AH, embossed on the collar in silver script.

God, it’s no wonder she had such a visceral reaction to the branding. And it’s no wonder she is stressing wanting to give this to him, when the other women had their choices taken from them. She has a choice, and she’s making it, and all he has to do is accept the gift she’s trying so hard to give to him.

“Please, daddy. I need to give this to you,” she murmurs, further solidifying what he now knows, and he wraps the chain around his hand, pulls it tight, tugs her close for a kiss.

The easy way the tension leaves her body at the possessive gesture makes him groan, and he kisses her so long and hard that—between the kissing and the collar—she is already in subspace when he pulls back to let them catch their breath.

“You’re mine, baby girl; my name is on you. I own you.” She pants, nods, puts her hands on his shoulders and looks into his eyes, so grateful, beautiful.

“Yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy. I’m yours so tell me what to do and I’ll do it, anything. Please.” He kisses her again, then climbs onto the bed, loosens his grip on the chain a bit and pulls her with him as he lays back against the pillows. Her gaze is warm, brilliant, and he guides her to kneel between his legs, drops the leash and takes the black hair tie off of her wrist to sweep her hair back into a ponytail. It’s by no means perfect, but she likes when he does it, knows what it means; she’s already staring at his cock, and he’s willing to bet her mouth is watering in anticipation.

“I want you to suck for me, sweet girl. Owned girl.” Her eyelashes flutter and she wets her lips, nods enthusiastically. She wraps one hand around his cock, presses the other against his thigh, and he picks up the chain again, tightens it as she drops to cover him with her mouth.

She starts with short, wet, slow strokes, looking up at him through her pretty lashes, and he’s reduced to just his love for her and his need to come, as always when she does this for him. He moans softly, reaches down a hand to squeeze her breast, to give her some contact and pleasure, and she whines, moves a little faster.

He wasn’t planning to come this way, but he can think of plenty of ways to keep her occupied and feeling good while he recovers, so he wraps the chain around his hand one more time, guides her down, so she’ll take him deeper. She can do it, has been trained at her own request, because almost nothing makes her wetter than having her mouth full of his cock.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for daddy. Can I come down your throat, baby? Can you take it?” She nods, bobs, and he yanks the chain just to see what she will do.

It turns her into a bit of a feral little monster, humping her hips against nothing, digging her nails into his thigh, doubling down on her efforts to make him come, and he just tips his head back and enjoys it, pinches her nipple between his fingers.

“Yes, sweet girl. So close. Keep moving your hips, baby; horny, desperate girl. Daddy will let you come soon, just keep going.” Perfect woman that she is, she hums around him, takes him deeper yet; the chain is wound so far around his hand he thinks absently that he may as well just hold onto her collar, and when he hooks his finger around the metal ring she looks up at him and moans.

He comes holding onto that ring, and when she is finished swallowing for him he pulls her up by it, kisses her passionately, gratefully, and whispers praise against her lips; she is soaking wet, he can feel it where she is sprawled on his stomach, so he guides her to lay back on the bed and leans in for a couple more kisses.

“That was perfect, my sweet, owned girl. Did you like that?” He holds the chain loose and rubs two fingers over her clit, and she bucks up, nods her head.

“Yes, owner daddy. I love when you let me take you that far. It makes me achy,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs apart, very wide, presses a finger inside.

“I know, baby. I can feel how soft and wet you are for daddy. I want you to come on my fingers next, okay?”

“Yes, please, I want to. Want to come on them hard for you.” He leans in for a sweet, soft kiss, slides his finger out of her, then takes her hands and brings them together under her chin, wraps the chain around her wrists so they’re loosely bound, holding the handle in his fist. She moans like he’s destroying her, though he’s barely touched her, but when he slips two fingers inside her she just gasps softly and throws her head back, her stomach tensing.

“Such a pretty girl for me. I’m so lucky you’re all mine.” He is calm—or at least, he’s projecting calm—where she is keyed up, eager, desperate, and he always loves it like this, loves to see how much he can tease her, how long she will hold out until she’s begging for him to fuck her with his hand. “Can you stay still for me? I wonder how long you can stay still for me, sweet girl.”

“Mmm, daddy.” Her chest is heaving as he thrusts his fingers slowly in, then out, then rubs them up her pussy, between her lips, and then thrusts them back in. It’s got to be torture for her, but she just breathes. “I can stay still, daddy. I can do whatever you ask.”

He closes his eyes briefly, collects himself so he doesn’t let all that power go to his head, and pushes his fingers into her a bit faster just to watch her struggle to behave.

“Does that feel good, daddy’s girl?” She bites her lip and nods, offers him a strained god, yes, so he adds another finger; the fact that she can speak at all means she’s far too coherent for his liking. He leans up for a kiss, brushes his nose over her throat, along the edge of the collar, right where his initials are, and she lifts her hips but stops herself, whimpers. “Oh, baby, what is it? Are you needy?” he whispers in her ear.

“Needy, please daddy,” she pleads softly, her eyes focused on him when he pulls back to look at her face, but also a little far away at the same time. “Please, please, I need to come. I need to come, I’m achy.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ll make you come, sweet girl.” He presses their mouths together a couple times, losing his composure a little as she loses hers, and then he moves down between her open legs and rubs his tongue over her clit while pounding his fingers inside.

She is unable to resist moving her hips as she gets closer to climax, and he pulls away, pausing to look up into her eyes again. They’re very hazy now, and she’s whining high in her throat at the sudden lack of stimulation.

“If you don’t stay still, daddy will have to spank you, baby girl. Do you understand?” She nods lazily, and he taps his hand against her pussy, a couple of light slaps just to get her attention. She blinks, makes eye contact, and he asks again. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy.” She flicks her tongue over her lips, closes her eyes, and he leans back in to roll his tongue over her clit, fingers moving quickly in and out of her. She remains still for about thirty seconds and then slams down hard against his hand, and from there she doesn’t stop. “Oh please, please. So close, please daddy,” she begs, pressing into the thrusts, and just when she is starting to come he wraps his hand around the chain around her wrists, tugs her body up so he can reach her mouth, and kisses her deep and wet while he fucks her through her orgasm.

She comes hard as promised, soaking his hand, moaning into the kiss—probably due to the fact that he’s holding her up by the leash, because displays of strength make her feel extremely submissive—and when she is through he lays her gently back, unwinds the chain and kisses her wrists.

“Good girl, you did so well. Daddy is so proud.” He leans up to press easy kisses to her cheeks and mouth, and she wraps her arms around his neck, making soft noises of contentment against his lips. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I love making you feel good. Do you love making me feel good?”

He knows she does, but likes to hear it, even when it’s just a sigh like the one she gives him now—he knows what all of her sounds mean, when she’s so deeply sunken into subspace that she's all begging and soft noises and daddy.

“Yeah, I know you do, sweetheart. Are you ready for me to come inside you? Daddy comes inside because he owns you.”

“Daddy, mmm,” she breathes, and he gets up on his knees, spreads them, and drapes her thighs over his, slides in easily because she is still so open and slick. He wraps one hand around her thigh and brings the other to the chain hooked to her collar, loops it around his forearm, and thrusts quick and smooth, grunting when she grabs his wrists and bucks her hips against him. “Oh, fuck. Oh.” She gasps when he pulls on the chain a little harder, bounces roughly against his thighs and whimpers her pleasure, then drops a hand to her pussy and rubs as he slams into her with equal desperation.

“Yes baby, fuck daddy. Good girl, rubbing your little pussy; if I come before you, you’ll have to wait a while, so I hope you get off first.” She whines unhappily at that, rubs faster, her head tipped back, and when he squeezes her breast with the hand holding the handle of the leash she wraps her legs tightly around his thighs and comes with his name on her lips.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow: he takes his hands off of her completely, since she’s holding on to him with her legs, and fucks her hard, pulling on the chain and muttering praise until he spills deep inside her. She is breathless, still but for the rise and fall of her chest, and he takes a moment before pulling out, unwrapping the chain from around his arm and encouraging her to turn onto her stomach.

She complies easily, looks fucked-out and spent, and he kisses along her spine, between her shoulder blades when he slides back into her.

“Again, daddy?” she asks, barely a whisper, and he runs his hands over her body, soft and soothing, leans in to put his weight against her back, his mouth at her ear.

“Not yet, baby girl, but I want to stay inside you, okay? How are you feeling?” She turns her head for a kiss, hums.

“Fuzzy. Good.” He kisses her again and moves his lips to her jaw, then her neck, right up against the collar.

“Is it uncomfortable? Too tight?” he asks softly. He doesn’t want to upset her by suggesting they take it off, but he’s been rough with it, so he wants to check.

“No, owner daddy. It’s perfect.” She gets her arm out from beneath her, reaches it around his neck and pulls him close, nuzzles against his throat. “I love you and I love being owned by you.”

“I love you, baby girl, and I love owning you. You’ve given me everything.”

This may have started as something to do to get her through the lingering effects of the case, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t see and feel the value in the voluntary transfer of power, how easily she gave herself to him, willingly, completely. He kisses her again, sweet and slow, and then leans up, puts his hands on her ass, massages it.

“Do you need anything?” She murmurs yes, and he smiles a little to himself, rubs a hand up her back. “Thank you for telling me, baby. What can daddy do for you?”

“I need to be spanked, daddy. I couldn’t hold still.” She slides up to her hands and knees, knees spread wide, and though he’s no longer hard inside her, he doesn’t see that being a problem for long.

“That’s right. Good girl for reminding me.” He squeezes her ass, then lightly taps it, and she whimpers. “You were too horny, you couldn’t stay still. I’m not mad,” he promises with another tap. “I know how you get when I touch your pussy: you become such a messy, needy, desperate baby. You can’t help yourself.” She sighs, presses her ass back against him and tilts her head back a little.

“Can’t help myself, daddy,” is all she says, voice breathy and short, and he picks up the leash, holds it loosely along the length of her spine, and smacks her hard on the ass with an open palm.

She gasps, digs her fingers into the bedding, braces herself for more impact; by the sixth, she is grinding against him, panting and whining, her ass an angry red. She’s drenched in slick, and he’s hard again, so he grabs her ass roughly with both hands and thrusts a few times before spanking her a seventh time.

“Fuck daddy, yes daddy,” she moans, pushing eagerly into his thrusts; she fucks herself on his cock even when he’s still, even when his hands come down hard on her already irritated skin. “Mmh. I’m bad, daddy. I’m bad and I’m not perfect, but you still love me.” He exhales deeply, because he knows his girl well, and he knows this means she will be dropping, hard, as soon as she comes; he mentally prepares for the worst, just in case.

“You’re not bad, sweetheart, you are so good; not just to me, but to everyone.” He moves one hand to her hip, holds her steady, then grabs the chain with the other hand and pulls her closer while he pounds inside her. “And no, you’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for daddy; you’re smart, and sweet, and so beautiful, and I love you.” He drapes himself over her back, tugs on the chain so she will meet him for a gentle kiss, their lips so soft in contrast to the way their bodies meet, eager for release. “I love you, baby. Come and let daddy take care of you. Daddy will make it all better.”

She reaches back for him, covers his hand with hers and takes a deep, shuddering breath; it’s only a matter of time before the tears fall, and he would like to be holding her by then, so he curls his hand around to rub at her clit, murmurs reassurances and repeats that he’s got her, and she comes trembling, gasping beneath him.

He kisses her shoulders, thrusts a few more times and then pulls out to come on her hot, marked ass; breathless, he eases her body down onto the bed, leans up to brush her hair back and unbuckle the collar, sets it aside.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Time to rest and let daddy take care of you. You did so well for me, baby. You gave me everything; I will be so careful with it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, feels so much emotion for the sensitive, thoughtful, incredible woman beneath him it makes his chest ache. He brings a hand to her ass, rubs his come in, knows that it stings—but they both like this, and he knows she will expect it, would feel somehow inadequate if he didn’t. He presses a kiss to her lower back. “I’m going to get you some water, good girl. Amazing, special girl. Be right back.”

He grabs a pillow, brings it to her head and lifts it up so she’s pressed comfortably against it, then gives her a peck on the cheek and heads to the kitchen for water and a snack. When he returns, she’s clutching the pillow, turned to face the door so she can see him enter. He pulls her close, sits her up enough to give her a few sips of water, then sets down the glass and holds her against his chest, soft and shivering slightly in his arms.

“I know we just had a bath earlier, but would you like another? Or a shower?” He tugs the blanket loose and wraps it around them, rocks her a little. Gently removing the ponytail holder from her hair, he shakes it loose with his fingers, rubs her throat where the collar left a slight indentation. “Sweet, owned girl, I will give you anything you need, always. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

She cries, clutching at him, and he soothes her, squeezes her, moves his hands through her hair and brushes the tears off of her face; when the sobbing slows, he reaches carefully for tissues on the bedside table, dries her eyes and helps her blow her nose, then gives her more water. She looks a little better after drinking half the glass, so he convinces her to take a couple bites of food, rubs her sore ass with a soft hand.

“Can we shower? And then more of this?” she asks, just a whisper, and he nods and leans in for some slow, sweet presses of lips. Her fingers card through his hair, and he presses a hand to her cheek. “Thank you, daddy. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I’m grateful for you, too, baby. The world just isn’t right when you’re upset—when I can’t find that brilliant smile.” It’s not quite brilliant, but the corner of her mouth does curve up for him, which he considers a good sign. “Let’s go get cleaned up and then I’ll hold you until you’re sick of me,” he teases. He unwraps them and gets off the bed with her in his arms.

“Could never be sick of you ever. Perfect daddy, perfect man.” He shoots her a look, something like yeah right but not too self-deprecating, and she cuddles closer. “Okay, perfect for me, anyway. Strong, gentle owner daddy I know I can trust with everything.”

They shower—she practically purrs when he scrubs her head with shampoo, when he combs conditioner through her hair with his fingers—and slip into pajamas, and he takes the comforter to the laundry room and grabs the spare, wraps her up tight and pulls her close, hugs and kisses and talks to her about everything and nothing until she’s ready for some dinner and a movie on the couch.

She thanks him for everything he did to help her through it, but it’s really his pleasure; it’s where he finds his value, and he tells her so. Because she can’t wear the collar to work, he makes a stop on his lunch break a week later, sneaks into a jewelry store, and buys her a ring.

There is no room to inscribe his initials, but his intentions are heavily implied.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

heartspace, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi will always be the one. The one on top, the one above all others, the one who has a space in your heart. Sometimes, Yoongi questions it. You have to remind him that no one commands you like he can, and he reminds you that no one can take you from him.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, fingering, nipple play, m-receiving oral, doggy, scratching / marking, hair-pulling, cock warming); PWP; softdom!Yoongi

yes, I have been planning this ever since I released ‘headspace’. happy birthday Yoongi! <3 I would have pretty words for you, but I literally write smut about you, so how about you not practice your English here because I know you’re secretly fluent. I’ll give you the ‘I-love-you’ speech some other time XD

--

"I'm here."

You felt his fingers trail down your exposed arms, drumming down your skin. He took your hands, tracing your silver rings, humming satisfyingly. A familiar view, a fair skinned wrist with silver chain bracelets. He curled his long fingers around yours, caressing the inside of them. You could smell his cologne, scarcely sweet and musky woods, just a hint here and there, wisps that seemed almost imaginary. 

"To remind you that you're mine."

His grip tightened around your wrists.

A swift pull, spinning you around in your computer chair, tearing you away from the keyboard. Fluffed black hair, brushing against dark brown, cat-like eyes. A pensive smile and two silver hoops on each ear. All black, turtleneck, leather jacket, slacks. Your favorite. 

Your shadow. 

Min Yoongi. 

"I... I can explain."

The smile turned into a smirk. 

"No need."

He intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them, unforgiving metal of the rings digging into both your hands. Leaned down, pushing your rolling chair into your desk so it stopped, husky voice against your chin. He stroked one of your silver rings, spinning it around your index finger. 

"Yoongi..."

He purred your name, drawing it out syllable by syllable, letting it slowly assault your ears. Your skin tingled as he pulled you up, your loose black t-shirt too thin, feeling far too much as he tugged you to him, his inescapable gravity and wicked smirk. 

“You smell different today,” he murmured, your bare legs brushing against his slacks.

You did smell different. Like burning wood and roasted sweet chestnuts, a new scent you found that instantly attracted you. That’s how you were. You encountered things and you immediately loved them, intensely, addictively, forever.

Just like Min Yoongi.

“Mmm.”

His hand traveled under the hem of your shirt, grabbing your thigh and sinking his fingers into it with a soft hiss. You bit your lip, closing your eyes, falling into the touch, letting it consume you. There were not a lot of things that could make you give in, but you believed in your instincts and trusted them. Your instincts always told you where to go, what to do, who to go to. With one glance, you could pinpoint if you would like something or not, even in unfamiliar territory. Your instincts always guided you to your loves. The things you loved always became significant, always changed your life, always had your devotion through time, space, and dreams.

They became obsessions and they never stopped.

Yoongi buried his face into your neck and inhaled, moaning softly.

“Smells so good. Warm. Like a comforting memory,” he mumbled.

“Reminded me of you.”

And it had. The second you smelled it; memories of his embrace had blanketed around you.

He lifted his head and his eyes were on yours. Half-lidded, plagued by dark circles, the loveliest black-brown in the whole world. You normally hated eye contact, but not in this space, not with him. Your hands slid under his leather jacket, wrapping around his waist. Yoongi leaned in, kissing you once more, pressing your body to his, leather and softness. He reached into his jacket and possessively tucked one of your hands in his.

“Sometimes,” he muttered against your lips. “Sometimes I think I don’t have your love.” His fingers caressed yours as you kneaded his waist underneath the turtleneck. "Do you not want me around anymore?"

A small smile drifted onto your lips. You reached up with your free hand and tugged the collar of your t-shirt down, revealing your silver necklaces. 

"You're always with me."

Yoongi’s dark eyes traveled down your neck, to the first one, seeing the tiny circular overlapping pendants. His name etched in the lower one, his birthstone set in the upper one. A tiny, contented smile. The others were a tangle of chains and charms, but Yoongi was the one who mattered most, so he was on top. 

Always on top. 

“What if you lose that?” he teased.

You chuckled. “So what? I could lose everything I own, but I would still love you, Yoongi.” You placed your forehead against his. “My head could be full of someone else, but there is always a space in my heart for you.”

The things you loved.

They are always and forever.

He raised his hand and placed a single fingertip in between your collarbones. Your spine tingled, scalp prickling as he slid it up your neck, lips parting as he watched it travel over your skin, up your chin and onto your plush lips, nail snagging on the softness.

“Such lovely words, but this mouth can do such dirty things,” Yoongi breathed, the side of his curving upwards playfully. You quirked your eyebrow and opened your mouth, licking the tip of his finger with your tongue, smiling around it.

“I can have pure feelings and a filthy mind.”

Yoongi cocked his brow to match yours, smirk widening to reveal his white teeth. “And you certainly do. I have no idea how your mind works.”

And then before you could respond, Yoongi shoved two fingers into your mouth, rubbing them against your tongue. You chuckled, wrapping your lips around them, sucking daintily, tongue swirling, slipping between them, drawing figure-eights. His eyes on you, darkening, darkening, the sparks of desire stroked to black flame, burning intensely as you placed the tip of your tongue all the way down to the skin where his two fingers connected, down to his knuckles, his fingers almost down your throat.

“You have such a tiny mouth,” he purred. “Astounded that my cock can fit in there.”

Yoongi pulled his fingers out and you gasped, strings of saliva dripping down and snapping against your chin. There was something about his expression, not trying to trick you, not trying to seduce you, simply aware of what he was going to do and that he was going to do it. There was no one to stop him. 

In fact, you patiently awaited it.

His free hand closed on the hem of your pajama shirt and slipped under, pushing your panties to one side and shoving his wet fingers into your pussy.

“Ah, Y-Yoongi!”

He smiled, sliding his fingers in and out, and you raised one of your legs, hooking it around his hip, one hand on his shoulder, moaning as he rubbed the inside of your walls, feeling all of you, watching your face the entire time, your pussy throbbing at the knowledge of being observed so intently. His other hand snuck up your back, drawing patterns on the thin black fabric, hardly a barrier from his touch, and then he traveled further up, running his fingers through your hair, tangling them at the base and yanking back, neck exposed, your moans deepening, saturated with lust, the pace of his fingers inside you increasing. You clenched around them, breath hitching at the pricks of pain, viscous juices soaking his hand and coating his knuckles. Yoongi leaned forward, inhaling your scent once more.

“Cum for me,” he purred, teeth on your neck, nipping lightly, pinches of red marks.

Pulling a little harder, thrusting a little deeper, sucking on the space in between your collarbones, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, whimpering as the sensitive skin was bitten and the insides of your walls roughly rubbed, grinding into his hand to stimulate your clit and it was too hot, too much, pushing you over the edge.

“Oh, fuck, Yoongi…”

Pussy clamping around his digits, pulsating violently, your juices sliding down the back of his hand and his palm, covering him with you. A short reprieve, Yoongi letting you ride the high, sighing in satisfaction as he felt your walls shiver with the aftershocks. His other hand released your hair and you panted hard, tipping your head back up, only to be forced to raise your arms as Yoongi yanked your shirt up. You pulled it over your head, shaking your hair out, now wild and messy. He snapped a finger on your black bra strap, impatient expression telling you to take it off. You undid it with one hand and, as soon was it fell to the floor, Yoongi ripped his fingers out of you. You yelped at the suddenness, abruptly turning into a moan as Yoongi took his slick fingers covered in your cum and smeared them over your breasts, circling around your hard nipples, pinching them in between his slippery touch.

“Fuck, I love these nipples,” Yoongi muttered, dipping his head down to your chest, breathing in the scent of your orgasm. “So fucking big and soft and hard, all at once.”

He wrapped his lips around one and sucked off your juices with a moan, cleaning up his mess by licking all over your breasts. He placed his two wet fingers around the other, pinching and tugging on it, trailing his tongue up and down, up and down, matching pace, drenching your skin with his saliva before collecting it all back up and circling the sensitive hardened nub with the wetness, flicking his tongue against it, gentle, intense, continuous, until you were shaking and shivering against him.

Your hands came up and held his head, pushing back his black hair, moaning as you ran your fingers through it, over and over, his large hands pressing your tits together and playing on your nipples with his lips and fingers, sucking hard.

There were a lot of words in this world and none of them could describe exactly how Yoongi made you feel, like he could set everything on fire while also being the water rushing through you, burning and drowning, his brown orbs looking up at you, silent, but clear with his lust, reflecting you in his eyes. 

A mirror, so akin to you.

And yet not, because he was Min Yoongi. 

His other hand fitted in the curve of your back, forcing you to arch more, trailing his tongue over your chest, humming at your soft cries. 

"You always look so good no matter what I'm doing to you," he mused, lazily licking off your other nipple. 

"It's because you're the one doing it," you panted, shivering as he blew on your wet skin. 

"Hm, I don't think so. I think you're just hot as hell."

He kissed up your chest, on your lips once more, sighing softly, your sharp sweet taste on his lips, both hands on your breasts, pinching your nipples with his knuckles. You whined into his mouth, and he shushed you with rough kisses as he rubbed them just as roughly, pain and pleasure, working you until you were breathless, gasping, pleading for more. He chuckled, releasing them, earning a frantic whimper, his mouth still pressed to yours. You heard him shrug off the leather jacket, dumping it on the chair. Nudging you forward to the bed, staying in stride with you, and you, grip on his turtleneck, yanking it out of his slacks, his smirk against your smirk. 

"What if," Yoongi murmured, hands enveloping yours, tracing your silver rings. "One of my rings was here?" Tapping your left ring finger, mischievous spark underneath his lashes. 

"Do I get to put one here?" you teased, sliding one between his and wrapping it around his left ring finger. 

"Ah, they should match, shouldn't they?"

You grinned, tumbling onto the bed and dragging him with you, Yoongi quirking an eyebrow, tone rich and deep as he continued.

"You like white gold or platinum?"

You tugged his turtleneck up and off his head, letting it fall to the floor, running a hand through his fluffed black hair as you mused.

"I'll let you pick," you purred. "And then I can pick one."

"For where?"

"For here."

Yoongi sucked in a breath, narrowing his eyes and mouth at you, cheeks puffing a little, but there was no mistaking the amusement in his words. 

"At least service him before you start putting him in prison."

You unlatched your grip on his clothed cock. 

"What am I, but of service?" 

He watched your tongue trace your lips as you slid down, unbuttoning his slacks, zipper being teased down, a pleased smile growing as his clothes were tugged off, crumpling to the floor. 

"Let me help you," Yoongi drawled as you lowered your head, calm hands gathering your hair to a long ponytail, winding it around his palm before turning his hand around, fitting his hold to the back of your head. You raised an eyebrow at his smirk.

"It's going to be like that?"

His eyes darkened, black hair falling over them. 

"You love it like that."

That's true. Familiar words came back to you, almost like a mantra.

What if you live like that?

Tongue sliding out, licking him all over, dripping saliva down his length, his cock already hard and insistent against your lips, hot and trembling, pleading for attention, but you nuzzled past, wrapping your lips around one of his balls and swirling your tongue around it, listening to his deep moan, smokey and raspy, your name mixed with his sounds of appreciation, hand firm on the back of your head. You switched sides, back and forth, sucking one as you licked the other, accompanied by loud slurps that made Yoongi's hips jerk, euphoric gasps filling your room. 

"Fuck, that's a dangerous mouth..." he hissed. "You could make anyone fall for you with your mouth alone."

You snaked your tongue along his stiff length, side to side, tracing the contours with your wet muscle, finally coating the tip with a thick layer of warmth, seeing Yoongi watch you with hunger, his long fingers pressed into your scalp. 

"Down," he growled. 

You obeyed. 

Swallowing it all, all the way to the base, his cock twitching in your mouth. Yoongi gasped sharply, holding you down, your throat constricting around the head, barely able to breathe, but you were in Yoongi's hands now. 

Your favorite pair of hands to command you.

"Fuck... fuck..."

He tilted his hips and you fell on your side, silver necklaces jangling, steadying yourself with your elbow. Slow but forceful, sliding out and pushing back in, moaning softly as he fucked your face, your hands in his sides, nails digging in, whining around his thickness, pushing your tongue against the bottom to make it tighter, better, his strong taste coating your mouth, so good your mind was a bit hazy from it or was it the intensity of his thrusts that was leaving you breathless?

You tensed your throat muscles and Yoongi chuckled, breathing hard.

"You sure you haven't practiced on someone else? You're too good at this, fuck..."

It was impossible to reply, think, or breathe, clawing at his back, rocking your body with his, your own power intoxicating you, knowing Yoongi was close to his end by the increased speed and roughness, grip on your head unforgiving, bouncing you back and forth with the force of his hips, your wet lips smacking his balls and crotch, the head repeatedly burying itself in your throat, stretching it out just like how Yoongi would stretch you out soon.

"Fuck, I know you love it when I use your mouth like this," he snarled. 

I do. I love all the things you do to me. 

He clenched his jaw and a grating hiss fell from his lips, thrusting deep and spilling down your throat, you whimpering as you swallowed hurriedly, hands splayed over his back and ass, holding him there so you could drink it all, tongue pressed along his length to feel his cock throb with every spurt of cum painted down your throat. There was no time to think about breathing, completely dazed by his strong taste and the forced manner that you had to consume his orgasm, visceral and obscene.

"Time for your other hole."

You drew back, gasping for air, hair cascading around you as Yoongi let go, taking advantage of your hazy state clawing for oxygen. You barely registered him pushing you down to the sheets, hands and knees, ass up and ready, his own hands on your hips to peel your wet pussy lips apart, watching your glistening opening flexing, the reaction both your muscles and your desire.

Waiting for him. 

Wanting him. 

"Mmm, my pretty pussy," he purred possessively.

Your body already knew what to do even if your mind was still trying to catch up. He took the condom from your shaking, outstretched hand and ripped it open. You didn't have to wait long. He leaned forward. The swollen, hot head pressed against your opening. Not moving, chest against your back. 

"Yoongi, please..." you gasped hoarsely.

"Please what?"

This fucking tease. "Please... fuck me."

His hand crawled up the sheets, deft fingers dancing, up your wrist, and onto your hand, your silver rings glinting in the low light. He placed his fingers in between yours, lips against your ear. 

"My perfect plaything, aren't you?"

A swift thrust and you were moaning, fingers closing in around his, suddenly so full and so deep that you saw white for a brief moment, but there was no time, no time as Yoongi slid back and slammed into you again, crotch to ass, untangling his hand from yours so he could right himself and fuck you hard, just the way you liked, just the way you needed. 

"Mmm, what a beautiful back."

You buried your face into the pillows, his fingernails scraping down your skin, sending shocks and stings all over you, helpless cries at his wonderful scratches, the exact pressure so that he left marks all over you but didn't break skin, so good paired with his harsh thrusts, making you claw for the headboard, planting your hands on it and bucking back into his hard length, heightening the pleasure and mixing it with pain, Yoongi's satisfied grunts behind you, necklaces jingling on your chest. Sensation, sound, emotion, all of it, building up inside, winding the coil, tighter, tighter. 

Nothing else mattering but being fucked by Yoongi's cock. 

"This body is for me, isn't it?" Yoongi growled, racking his nails down your back.

"Whenever you want, fuck, oh fuck, Yoongi!"

He kept going, the fire of your orgasm burning hot, crashing waves threatening to take you under, but still he gripped your hips and fucked you into the bed, the bed frame squeaks drowned out by the loud squelches of his rock-hard cock reentering you over and over again. 

"That's what I thought," he snickered, leaning down and earning a wail, so deep it felt like he was hitting your cervix, the head swelling as your walls clenched around him. "No one can take you from me, isn't that right?"

You responded automatically, your body once again responding quicker than your brain could, the answer always there, lingering in your mind, unwavering, pure instinct.

"No one."

The words rushing out with ravenous conviction, nails curling into the headboard, so much forced pleasure, savoring in Yoongi’s roughness, pussy pulsating so strongly that you weren't sure what was an orgasm and what wasn't. All over you, through you, in you, clouding your mind and thoughts. Absolute precision, knowing exactly how to fill you, and you clenching him back, molding to him to deliver the pleasure he loved, primal needs being satisfied, everything feeling so good that you became lightheaded, and yet you still found yourself uttering between moans and gasps, declaration being ripped from you because of Yoongi’s perfect cock destroying you mentally and physically.

"It will always be you above all others, Yoongi."

His fingers wrapped in your hair and yanked back, the sudden pain making you scream his name, liquid gushing down his cock and balls, thick and viscous, sticking to both your inner thighs. Your name falling from his lips, a half-moan, half-hiss, his entire length jolting inside you, filling the condom, and Yoongi rolled his hips into you once more, feeling it all, every contour of your pussy constricting around his throbbing cock. 

"Fuck..."

Two voices that sounded like one, rough, grating, instinctive, matching in time. Sparks coursing through your veins, body shivering with the aftereffects, squeezing the remnants out of him. His hand reached around; strands still tangled in his fingers.

Yoongi cupped your chin roughly, caressing your skin. 

"Above all others, hm?" he breathed, the depth of his voice soothing your thudding heart. Both of you sinking down into the bed, knees giving out, and he was still inside you, gripped tight by your stubbornness, his arms around your shaking body. You closed your eyes, Min Yoongi surrounding you, invading your space with his possessive embrace, his unavoidable presence, his inescapable hold, and you, a willing captive, letting him take over.

His lips against your ear, a familiar purr, your always and forever whisper. 

Your shadow. 

"I like that."

--

masterpost

-

who said people are animals of wisdom? for me, obviously, we are animals of regret people change, just as I've changed there is nothing permanent in the world everything is just a happening passing through

My blog is named after ‘People’ by Agust D, the only song that I’ve ever felt every word and every line, rapped and sang with that exact pitch and emotion, describe me. I’ve always wondered, these thoughts I have, will anyone ever be able to put them into words?

so what? what if you live like that?

And you did, Yoongi, and for that, I am grateful.

[whereisten]

The Interview

A Doyoung fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: you’re a journalist that just booked her biggest gig, an interview with Doyoung, a vampire notorious for a series of murders in your city.

Pairing: Vampire!Doyoung x female reader

Other characters: Best friend!Johnny

Genre: horror, angst, smut, violence

Word count: 8.7 K

Warnings: blood mention, descriptions of murder and violence, cursing, smut! (Threesome (MMF), breast fondling, fingering, male masturbation, oral sex, penetration, slight overstimulation, c*eampie.), mentions of chains and knives.

A/N: I am sorry for taking so long to post this, but I hope you enjoy!! I didn’t proofread (shocker) so there may be some errors but I will fix them later. THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN FOR THE SUPPORT FOR OUR HALLOWEEN SERIES AHHHH!! It’s been so much fund and I hope you guys enjoy the last few fics we have coming up!!

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You entered the house and walked hesitantly inside, looking around to observe all of the meticulous paintings and art. The mansion was dark and gloomy, it sent a chill through your body to imagine all of the horrors and secrets it held within it. So much murder, so much blood and death. And yet, it was kept in pristine condition by a loyal maid. Not a speck of dust in sight, and no stench to even indicate a single crime having been committed.

You sat down in his office on a cushioned loveseat before you  placed your recorder on the coffee table in between your seat and his.

You heard the jingles of his handcuffs and the many footsteps of police entering a few minutes after.

He sat down across from you as you cleared your throat. You noticed his irritated and burgundy red wrists being burned by the handcuffs around them made of pure silver.

He was stunning, like a painting himself. His skin looked like it was made of the most expensive marble, his eyes looked playful, but held a dark glint about them that you couldn’t shake. His arms were in front of him as his hands were held together by the handcuffs, you couldn’t ignore the obvious presence of his biceps as they strained against the thin material of his long sleeved prison uniform. His veins also bulged from his wrists all the way to his neck.

The devastatingly handsome man looked...hungry.

His tongue darts out over his bottom lip as he watches you observe his features.

“Oh, a pretty one for once, thank God.” He smirks.

You look at him sternly and press record on the mechanism in between you two.

“Good afternoon, Doyoung, my name is y/n. Today, I’ll be asking you a few questions about the crimes you’ve committed, but first, I would like for you to confirm your identity.”

You hold your iPad in your arm and start to type a description of his features and what he is wearing.

Doyoung laughs.

You stop writing and look up at him.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m chained up in my own house, and not in the sexual way for once…”

You look back to your iPad.

“Unless..you’d like to change that..” he says with a low tone that makes your body shiver.

“Doyoung..you’ve just been sentenced to a lifetime in prison for the brutal murders of 36 people. I’d appreciate it if you’d just answer a few questions so we can both go about our day.”

“Oh dear, I won’t tell you anything unless you get these barbaric things off of me, and get these useless men out of here.” He tilts his head towards the police officers behind his seat.

You shake your head. “No can do Doyoung, you’re a danger man, if they leave I’m done for.”

He chuckles lowly. “Don’t you trust me, sweetheart? My maid is no longer here, she testified against me and fled the country, so obviously I have no intention of ruining my place with anyone’s blood while she’s gone.” A smile crosses his face and it makes you uneasy.

You shouldn’t have done what you did next, but for the sake of writing a damn good article for Neo chronicles, you knew you had to. This trip would’ve been a waste of time and effort. It took you months to convince your boss to get you an interview with Doyoung, the notorious vampire that was just found guilty of capital murder.

He could tear you to shreds in moments with his hands and teeth, but something told you to ask that he be free..just for a few minutes.

He leans forward and keeps your eyes in his gaze. “You want them to release these cuffs, don’t you?”

You swallow hard then look up at the head police officer.

“He won’t cooperate unless you leave and take the handcuffs with you, please…” you beg, but the officer immediately shakes his head.

“Under strict orders from the judge, we cannot do that. It’s a miracle that we were even allowed to bring him back here.”

The tall man says without budging.

Doyoung turns to look at him. “Officer...these cuffs really hurt..it’ll only be for a few minutes..please.”

The officer furrows his eyebrows.

“Officer..I promise it’ll only take 15 minutes.” You continue.

“Fine...we’ll be right outside the door.”

You’re surprised to see that the officer agrees. He takes his key and opens up the cuffs. He then places them beside you on your chair.

“Slap these on the son of a bitch if he tries anything.”

You nod. A part of you felt so uneasy now that you were alone with him, but you had to make the most of it and get some information out of him while you could. No one could do what you were about to do, for Doyoung would be put away for life in a few days.

The door clicks and the room falls silent.

Doyoung turns to you and already starts to heal his wrists. “Well, then...should we get started?”

“Where are you from?” You ask.

He raises an eyebrow and throws an arm over the head of his seat.

“I’m from this city, dear.. I was just raised in a very different one...a few hundred years ago, without the cars, without the noise..”

“You’re the first of your kind that society has come across. Are there any more like you?”

He chuckles then looks at you and tilts his head. “There’s no one like me..”

You lick your lips quickly and lean forward. “Are there any more vampires, Doyoung?”

“Of course there are, some lurk in the shadows, some live boldly as the very doctors that take care of you. No one from my bloodline is alive however.” His gaze shifts downward as if he’s reminiscing.

“How do the vampires survive without being caught?”

He looks back up at you. “We just feed on animals to get by.”

Your heart began to race, you were finally getting information that no one else knew about, for Doyoung never spoke a word to investigators looking for answers about vampires.

“So why did you feed on humans and kill them instead of changing them?”

“For survival, sweetheart. I’m a man with very expensive taste..I’ve been killing humans for years, but I got lazy and decided to not run from city to city..I’d take out anyone that was evil or treated others like shit..some of my victims deserved it, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You looked to the side. You did notice that he mainly killed other murderers or robbers.

“Furthermore, humans have polluted the earth so badly, the taste of animals that feed off of diseased grass is just disgusting. I couldn’t take it anymore.” His face winces.

“And human blood..is it good?”

Doyoung smirks. “Oh, my love, you have no idea. It’s sweet and savory, there’s nothing like it..and if I may say, it’s even better when the subject surrenders willingly.”

“Did your subjects surrender willingly?”

He looks up and tries to think. He taps his chin. “No..I don’t think any of those bastards surrendered, they were quick fixes to my thirst. There was one woman though..Hmm what was her name?...Was it Diamond or Daisy?”

You closed your eyes as you listened to him struggle to remember the names of his victim.

“Darlene..her real name was Darlene, but she went by Tiffany at the strip club she worked at.”

“Ahhh! Yes! Darlene..she was sweet, magnificent. I remember taking her in the back of my car, she was ecstatic. She felt amazing around me, so warm. Her body shook as I stretched her out and played with her beautiful womanhood..such a shame.. she was so willing.”

You swallowed hard as tears filled your eyes. Doyoung was making light of a dark situation that ended in the murder of a young woman just trying to live her life.

He leans forward to get your attention. “First..I tasted her lips, then I placed my tongue around her hard nubs. I traced my tongue down her abdomen and all the way...down, before letting it rest on her folds. I licked up her essence and listened to her moan and breathe heavily. I can still hear the rush of her blood in her veins. I can still taste her trembling core on the tip of my tongue, and feel her velvety walls around my fingers.”

You cross your legs as his voice lowers more and more with each sentence.

His dark eyes hold onto yours as his smile grows. He can smell the pool building in your underwear.

“In and out, I moved in and out, circling around her bud before she came hard all over my mouth. But I licked it up and kissed her thigh as she begged for more. She tasted delicious and brain became flooded with thoughts of just how wonderful her blood would taste too. So I wrapped her legs around my waist and pushed into her, sliding in between her delicious and wet folds and hitting her sweet spot over and over.”

“Doyoung..” you turn away and gulp, but he grabs your chin within a split second of standing up in front of you.

He tilts your head upwards and gazes down at your lips.

“I placed two fingers into her mouth...just like this.” 

On instinct, your mouth falls open, allowing him to place two fingers onto your tongue. Your mind went crazy, half of it screaming for you to look away from the dangerous man, the other half saying “yes, God, yes.”

You sat with your mouth agape, waiting for him to continue.

“If only you could taste her...nonetheless, when she came again, her eyes rolled in the back of her head and the veins of her neck stuck out to me, begging to be punctured into. I sucked her dry even as she clenched around me from the overwhelming pleasure.”

He withdrew his fingers, licking them as his eyes held onto yours.

“Your lips must be delicious too.”

You snapped yourself out of your daze and shook your head.

“Doyoung, what the hell?”

He sits back into his chair. “Any more questions, love?”

You clear your throat again and look at your iPad.

“Uhh..what are your abilities?”

He smirks. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine one of them. But in addition to that, we are fast, strong, powerful beings. Some can read minds, some can hypnotize..we are what humans aim to be, perfect beings.”

Your face grows into one of disgust. “With the exception of having the burning need to murder, right?”

He chuckles once more and rolls his eyes. “Humans kill all the time, what makes us so different if we do it for survival? Murders are done out of rage against those that are simply different in terms of religion, ethnicity, or sexual orientation all the time, why aren’t you interviewing those bastards?”

You hesitate.

He leans towards you and crosses his arms.

“What if you could make this world a better place by getting rid of those that commit crimes against the helpless? I can see that you’re one that believes in justice.. you can be like me, but use your abilities for good..”

You shake your head. “Absolutely not, you’re a monster. Just because you killed for survival does not negate the fact that you still took many lives.”

He leans back and nods. “Oh, pity then. I thought I’d have a partner for my getaway. I would’ve loved to keep such a pretty face by my side..”

Your eyes widen, you lean back and reach for the handcuffs..but they’re not there.

He jumps up from his seat.

You stand up as well. “What are you doing?”

But within seconds, your arms are behind your back and locked in the handcuffs that he stole from beside you.

“Doyoung!”

He pushes your body so that it lays back down on the love seat. You stare in horror as he crawls over you while looking up your scared face through his lashes.

He licks his lips.

“Thank you for giving me this chance to get away..”

“Help!!” You call out and soon the police break through the double doors.

Doyoung flicks his head towards them and holds out his hand. “Halt!”

He yells and they stop in their tracks.

You cry out. “Doyoung!!” But he’s already dug into each and every one’s necks and ripped into their throats.

Blood platters across the room and the bodies fall down dead almost unanimously as Doyoung moves incredibly fast. He appears as a blur one moment and the next moment, he is over you again, but this time with the lower half of his face covered in crimson liquid and his eyes intense.

He licks your collarbone, slowly trailing his tongue up your neck then to your chin. You tremble and cry as your heart races.

“Mmmmm...sweetheart, I’d take you right here, but you’ll taste so much better when you give in to me completely, I’ll see you soon.”

He disappears, you only hear the breaking of a window behind you.

You close your eyes tightly and sob.

The police officers that were outside in their cars immediately run into the house when they see that Doyoung has flown away.

They open your handcuffs and console you as you turn away from all of the dead bodies on the floor.

When things finally settled, you noticed that Doyoung had taken your recorder, leaving you without proof that this interview even happened.

———

[3 Months Later]

A national manhunt for Doyoung had been going on for months, no one saw the man or..creature. The good part about his absence was that there were no more killings. You tried your best to explain what happened that day, but you couldn’t. Everything felt blurry, all you could feel was this longing to be with him again. He had you under his grasp in just a few minutes, but that partially wasn’t your fault. You were hypnotized, just as the police officer taking him out of handcuffs was.

But you couldn’t help but feel guilty when you thought about the lives lost that day, the families that weren’t with their loved ones anymore because of your weakness. You swore it would never happen again.

You were released from your job at the Neo Chronicles, your boss was embarrassed and dealt with the harshest treatment from not only the legal system, but from the media as well. No one understood how such a huge mistake could be made. They had him and were ready to punish him for his crimes, but in just a few minutes, they lost him, the only vampire known to man.

You worked from home now, uploading conspiracy theories to your own website where people could submit photos, videos or written accounts of their experiences with the supernatural. They could do this anonymously if they wished. You wrote about Doyoung and the vampire community, you even went out at night at farms or in the woods to try to catch vampires in the act of taking blood from them, but you had no luck.

You would set your life to finding Doyoung, you’d make him pay for what he did to you. Even if you were intrigued by him, you’d make him suffer. However, you couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t kill you as well.

———

[One Month Later]

You were about to do some research on cult practices that involved sacrifices, when you heard a knock at your door. You jumped up in your chair at your desk and turned to the door.

You swallowed hard. Had you done too much digging? Was someone tracking you? Were you being watched all this time?

Maybe you shouldn’t have visited the dark web.

You stand up slowly and walk to the door. You hear another knock.

You grab a tennis racket you placed by your door after playing tennis earlier that day. You then look through the peephole and see him.

Your heart started to race. Should you call the authorities? Should you scream for help? No. They would just be too slow, they’d be gone by the time a shriek escaped your throat.

You quickly opened it and held up your racket.

“Ah!!!” You yelled as you swung it, but he grabbed it with one hand and broke in two effortlessly.

Your eyes widened as he stood there with one corner of his mouth tilted upwards. His eyes sparkled in the darkness.

Your jaw fell open while the rackets ripped to your doorstep in two separate pieces.

“Invite me in...I have the recorder.” He demands through a husky tone.

You breathe heavily. “I-I..”

“May I come in...sweetheart?” He pouts.

You sigh and nod. “Yes.”

You didn’t want to but he had the evidence that you needed. Maybe you could just take it from him and he’d leave. With that piece of evidence, you could get your job back or make money online with your testimony.

Doyoung speeds past you and sits at your desk.

“Ooooo..satanic cults...interesting!” He searches through your computer.

“Hey!” You lock your door and walk towards him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“How have you been doing, my love? Have you been well? Probably not...seeing that you’re stuck at home now, researching this nonsense.” He ignores your question and stands up from the desk.

You walk after him into the dining room.

“Answer me! Why are you here?”

“Have you thought about my proposal? You’ve had a lot of time..”

“Why didn’t you turn yourself in?!” You grab a knife from your kitchen counter and hold it behind your back.

He takes a look at your 4 day old pizza on your stove top and gags. “You and I both know I wouldn’t dare out well in prison.”

“So why the hell are you here?!” You say a little louder.

He turns to you suddenly and flips you around. In just a few seconds, he pins you against the wall with your cheek pressed against it and your hands behind your back.

You grunt as he presses in your back with your elbow.

“Did you know that you’ve been on my mind every night since that day?” He forces the knife out of your hand and trails the tip down the side of your face. 

You wince as you anticipate it breaking your skin, but he only drags it down your neck delicately and watches goosebumps decorate your skin.

He flips you back around so you face him now, he looks down at your chest and breathes heavily over it. He still holds both of your wrists in his hand, clenching his fist around them tightly as you squeal.

“The way you smell, the way you feel, the way you taste...it’s all haunted me..I want you so badly..”

You blink rapidly. “If you want to kill me, why don’t you just do it already.”

Doyoung chuckles and hangs his head low.

“I’m here to ask you again...join me..live as I live and give up this boring life..” he licks long your neck as you struggle in his grasp.

You shake your head.

“No..I don’t want you..I don’t want to be a monster like you.”

He laughs as he smirks while watching your lips. His closeness to you makes you dizzy, but you try to remain firm. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m too old to be fooled, I know you have a recording of our little interview on your ipad..I know you don’t really need that recorder..so why did you invite me in?”

Your face falls. How did he know that you had a second audio recording saved to your iPad.

“Okay...fine, I wanted a reason to let you in..” you search his eyes. 

He smiles and watches your lips.

“Oh? And now that I’m in, what else do you want?”

You pant and lick your lips. “I want..to feel what that woman felt..”

He kisses your neck. “Like this?” He whispers against your heated skin.

Your eyes close as your head falls back. “Yes..take me to my room..” you beg breathily.

He wraps his arms around you and by the time you open your eyes, you’re on your bed with your legs around his waist.

He grinds his covered member into you and listens to you moan.

He continues to kiss your neck and bite teasingly.

He licks over the warm area and moans. The cold touch of his fingertips makes you yearn for him more. 

“This is what I missed, the taste of your beautiful skin..”

He looks down at you through wide eyes, he adores your lips and eyes, watching as you finally give in to him like he’s longed for.

He leans down and kisses your lips.

You reach above your head and place your hands under your pillow. You grab a specialized collar.

“Look at me, Doyoung.” You whisper in between kisses.

He releases your lips and looks up. You suddenly lock the collar around his throat.

He hisses, flying to the ceiling and grabbing at it in an attempt to take it off, but he has no luck.

The collar made of pure silver sends violent and painful shockwaves through his body whenever he touches it.

It tightens slowly to stop him from breathing.

His eyes grow. “What..what have you done to me?” He says as he dangles from the ceiling and looks down at you on the bed with a smile on your face.

“Oh Doyoung, you’re old but you still didn’t see this coming..” you chuckle, everything went as planned.

“Please...please stop this...” he reaches out for you as he gasps for air.

 You stand up from the bed and look up at him.

“I’ll explain this quickly since you’ll be unconscious in about three minutes..”

He loses his grip from the ceiling, falling onto the bed limply.

“Do you remember a tall fellow that you bit one evening as he walked home from work?”

Doyoung groans in pain.

“I’ll take that as a no..” you continue. “Well, this victim’s name was Johnny, he owns Johnny’s Café and locked up kinda late that night when you found him. He became your prey and in the blink of an eye, was left to die in a dirty alleyway. No one was there to help him, no one…” your eyes start to water.

“He was my best friend..and you killed him. Or so I thought..you see, you made a grave mistake with this “murder.” You didn’t ensure his death by sucking until you heard the very last beat of his pulse. You got what you wanted and left him there with a faint pulse. He was able to pull his phone out and call me..I found him through Find My iPhone, and when I inspected his injuries..I realized that he had been attacked by a vampire.”

Doyoung’s eyes roll in the back of his head as he takes his final breaths.

“It was my first time seeing such a wound since I was young. Guess what, Doyoung? My family has hunted vampires since the beginning of time..my grandparents were sure that they had killed all of you in this city...but it seems we hadn’t, and Johnny’s attack is what brought this issue to my attention. Lucky for me, you fell right into my hands, making it easy for me to gain more information about your kind and the actual status of vampires in our city. I was ill-prepared for your hypnosis, however. That’s why I couldn’t lock you down the first time.”

You walk up to him and caress his pale face. You then yank his arm and drag him through your house and down to your basement.

You throw him down the stairs and walk down.

You both hear yelling and crying. 

That’s when Doyoung sees him. That night starts to come back to him, the night when he attacked Johnny.

Johnny is chained to a wall in your basement. His hair is long and disheveled. He yells as he begs for food. His fangs stick out, he looks weak and terrified.

Doyoung gasps. “I didn’t mean for this to happen..”

“This is where he will have to stay, I can’t turn him in because he’s my best friend, but I also can’t kill him or set him free to murder innocent people like a maniac..I will fix him, I swear I will.”

You flip the lid off of a coffin and throw Doyoung into it after much effort. Luckily, he was quite weak from the collar already.

“Even though you turned my best friend into a monster, I am thankful to you for bringing all of your kind’s secrets to light. I will find each one, and I will kill them.” You smirk.

“Enjoy prison, you monster.”

Doyoung only smiles. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. Hunting you will make for a lifetime of joy.”

You shut the lid over the coffin and nail it shut.

You drag the coffin upstairs using a pulley system then call the police to retrieve him.

—————

[2 Years Later]

You enjoy your life as a journalist once again. You gained wealth and notoriety for your interview with Doyoung. You also hunt and kill vampires that killed animals, you finally had used the training from your family to do so.

“I never thought you’d have to do this..” your mom said one day when you visited her for tea.

“I thought..we killed them all and kept you and the rest of our world safe.”

“They’re like roaches..they never die.” Your dad yelled from the living room.

“It is what it is..” you took a sip from your cup.

“But tell me, once one has changed...is there any way to turn them back?”

You thought of Johnny and how you had to watch him suffer now for the past two years. You loved him dearly and spent hours on the dark web searching for clues as to what to do, but nothing worked.

You didn’t tell your parents, for fear that they would tell you to kill him immediately or they’d do it themselves.

You wouldn’t give up on you, you just couldn’t.

The two of you were friends for her 10 years, how could you even think of killing him?

Your mother laughed. “Honey..we’ve tried everything, there’s no way…once they change, the hunger roars through them, making them impossible to tame.”

You nodded. 

“What is it you're not telling me?” She tilted her head when she saw the look of worry in your eyes.

“Nothing, it’s just...some of these people are good people..I just wish we didn’t have to kill them..”

“People? They’re not people! They’re savages and self-centered barbarians! Don’t fall for it, all they do is lure in victims for their own gain. They have no conscience.” Your father walked into the dining room with a freshly carved stake.

“Here.” He hands it to you. “You kill those bastards without any thought in your head, they’re meant to seduce you, make you think that they’re innocent humans with beating and good hearts, but they’re not! Kill them before they kill us.”

You nod and take it from him.

—————

[1 Year Later]

You receive news that Doyoung has broken free from prison. No one knows of his whereabouts so all eyes turn to you.

“We can set up police around your place to keep watch if you’d like..” your boss tells you.“There’s a chance that he’ll come after you first.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

You weren’t scared at all, and having police around would only draw more attention to you than you needed. What if they heard Johnny in your basement? What if they saw you bringing in live rabbits in the middle of the night?

And if something were wrong, they’d eventually go into your basement only to find a series of hunting weapons and digging gear, for you always buried the vampires you killed deep in the woods.

You headed home and walked in slowly.

The air felt crisp and cool, the night sky peered in through your windows. You looked around and that’s when you noticed that one of them were open, the wind blowing the curtain that should’ve been drawn over it.

You hold your stake close to you and quickly walk over to it.

You slam it down shut and turn the lock, but by the time you turn back around to head to your room, you see Doyoung.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He stands just a few feet away from you with blood dripping down his mouth and neck in a steady pool.

You step back and walk around in a circle.

Doyoung smirks and walks in a circle towards you too.

“You knew I would be here, and yet, you came home on time..are you not afraid of me?”

He chuckles and holds his arms out.

You raise your stake in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m afraid of you?”

Doyoung tilts his head and pouts. “I’m not sure, your heart is racing, the sweat on your forehead is building, your grip on the stake is weak..”

“I didn’t give you permission to come in..”

He shakes his head. “No no, you didn’t..but someone in this house did.”

Your steps falter for a moment and you swallow hard.

When you listen closely, you hear something happening in your kitchen.

Then your eyes widen when you realize.

“Johnny..”

You gasp and run into the kitchen.

Doyoung laughs loudly.

You scream when you see Johnny sucking blood from a woman’s neck in the middle of your kitchen.

“No!!!” 

“I’ve missed you, my love...but I see you kept him around, locked up in the basement for fun..I used my senses to contact him and tell him to give me permission. You see, he doesn’t enjoy being locked up in your basement.”

Doyoung stands behind you and crosses his arms while leaning against the doorway.

“Johnny!! Stop this please, this isn’t you!” You try to shake him off of the woman but all Johnny sees is red. He has never had human blood before and now his eyes have been opened. You start to cry, your stake drops out of your hand.

“He can’t hear you, he’s enjoying what will now be his favorite meal in the kitchen.”

Doyoung grabs you by the neck and slams you against the wall. You yell out in pain.

“And here we are again, but this time we have some unfinished business, you and I...what should I do with you?”

You shake your head as he lifts your body nearly four feet off the ground while choking you.

“Please Doyoung, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have turned you in..please, just let me go, I��ll run far from here and leave the two of you alone to kill as you please.” Seeing Johnny like this leaves you broken. You can’t believe he’s free to live as a monster after all of your efforts to protect him.

“But running will only make me want you more, I enjoy this game that we play..” 

“Doyoung…” you tap his wrist as it becomes difficult to breathe.

“Being choked isn't so nice, is it?”

“What..what do you want from me?”

“I want you, but I like that you’re a challenge, you make my life exciting, and now that I have you here, I want to let you go again just so I can watch you run.” He grins.

“You can shoot some arrows or throw a few stakes, how about it, y/n?”

“Fuck you! I’m not some toy!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Then take my offer..I’ll only ask one more time..will you give in to me?”

You start to shake your head, but Johnny rises up from the body on the floor. He runs his hands through his long black hair and licks his lips while panting.

“Y/n..I feel...amazing.” He smiles at you. Even after all these years of you feeding him small animals and keeping him locked up, he still looked at you with love.

You cry harder. “No..Johnny..please don’t give in, I can fix you, I’ll find a way to turn you back.”

He chuckles then steps closer to you. He already looks healthier with the heavy dose of human blood he just consumed. “And you’ve been searching relentlessly for this cure for how long now?”

Doyoung lets your body slide back down the wall as he loosens his grip.

“I’m so close, just trust me.”

“Y/n..Look at how happy he is, don’t you want to be happy too?”

“yes..join us..” Johnny traces his finger down the side of your face.

“No!” You suddenly push Doyoung off of you and dive to the floor for your stake.

You jump back up but Doyoung takes you into his arms.

“Is this what you want?! To die instead of being with your best friend forever?!”

You press the tip of the stake into his chest, you’re so close, but your mind doesn’t allow you to push harder.

“Do it! Kill me!” He doesn’t put you under hypnosis because he wants to see what your true desire is.

Doyoung watches your sad eyes as you struggle to stab him.

Him being so close to you makes you weak, you don’t know why, but you fall into him more.

You second guess everything and your will weakens more and more each second.

You lean forward and kiss Doyoung’s lips finally.

You relax into his arms as his tongue traces over your lips to enter.

You swallow back your disgust from the taste of blood on his lips and close your eyes. A rush runs through your body, it’s like you’re being commanded by waves at the beach, your body just enjoying the feeling of floating in his arms.

The stake falls out of your weak hands. Johnny comes up behind you, kissing your neck from behind while circling his arms around your waist.

If you could just distract them for a few more moments..you could catch them off guard, take them to your room and grab the stake under your pillow..just a few more minutes.. 

Then..a sharp pain makes you jolt. Your eyes fly open. Johnny’s fangs dig into your neck. He sucks hard while you groan.

“Johnny!” You cry out, but then you moan as a feeling of euphoria washes over your body. You feel amazing, your mind goes blank, a soft, tingly sensation makes you weak as blood rushed from your veins and to his mouth. You’re drunk from their love and you want more.

Doyoung continues to kiss your lips and smiles when he feels you finally giving in to him.

Your heartbeat drives him crazy, he just can’t stop thinking about how good you must taste, so he takes the two of you to your room and lays down beside you on your bed.

Your neck is bent backwards towards Johnny behind you still, your hard nipples covered by your dress are just begging for his mouth.

“Do you give in to me, dear?” His lustful voice echoes in your ear.

“Yes..” you whimper.

In one swift move, Doyoung tears your dress off and throws it to the floor. He licks your hard nubs passionately, darting his tongue out and playing around with them with the tip.

Johnny continues to suck slowly, his hand reaching to your front side. He placed two fingers in between your legs, swatting away your thighs so your legs open more.

You are enraptured by them, completely forgetting your plan. But it didn’t matter anyway, your fate was sealed the moment Johnny bit you. He would either suck you dry or leave you alive to turn into one of them.

A part of you feels regret, but another part has come to terms with your situation. Right now you were focused on the yearning in your chest that made you tremble and the building heat between your legs that needed to be tended to.

Without warning, Doyoung bites your breast and sucks hard after latching his lips around the nipple.

He groans as he listens to you yelp.

You run your hand through his hair. “Yes..that feels so good.”  You felt like you were already climaxing with both men sucking your blood at the same time.

Johnny’s fingers push past the waistband of your underwear and presses against your folds.

Doyoung sucks harder, the taste of your blood is sweet and intoxicating, he never wants to stop.

You feel Johnny’s long fingers rub circles into your clit, your legs widen more as you ache for more. He lets go of your neck and nibbles your ear.

“Can I?” He asks seductively.

“Yes..” you bite your bottom lip, your body becoming more and more turned on from Doyoung’s mouth and Johnny’s touch.

You can feel Johnny’s hard member against your back as he pushes one finger into your throbbing opening, sliding it in effortlessly. 

“You’re wet…” he pulls his finger out and places it into your mouth. You moan while licking his finger.

“So wet..” he then pushes two fingers in, your body flinches as he pumps in and out of your. Your head is dizzy, you felt that you’ve lost too much blood. You’re too weak and Doyoung feels it too.

He gives your breasts a few more kitten licks to clean up the blood on it, then looks into your eyes.

“How do you feel, my love?”

“I’m-I’m dizzy..” you moan shortly after as Johnny adds a third finger and presses upward while inside your pussy.

Doyoung smiles when he sees your low eyes. “It’s time for you to feed..”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Doyoung uses his nail and digs a vertical line into his throat.

“Taste me..”

“N-no.” You shake your head.

“This is what you are now, y/n..just taste him and you’ll know..” Johnny whispers into your ear.

You stick your tongue out hesitantly and lick up the trail of blood on his neck. It tastes wonderful, amazing and different. You didn’t know what to describe it as but you felt that rush from earlier run through your body once more.

You lick again, this time, placing your mouth into the wound and actually sucking more blood out. 

Doyoung groans while pushing his pants down and taking his member out. He strokes it up and down and pants as you suck hard. You can’t use your fangs yet, but the feeling is still magnificent for him as well.

You need more, a hunger builds in your body and you tilt over Doyoung more to apply pressure.

Johnny withdraws his fingers, allowing you to completely kneel over Doyoung’s lap now.

He lays flat on the bed and watches you mount him. You look beautiful naked, like a goddess. Your eyes are wide with hunger and desire and he’s happy to be at the center of it all. He aligns his cock with your opening, watching as you slide down onto it slowly while wincing.

You breathe heavily and lean forward so you can suck his neck again. You place your hands on either side of his head and move up and down slowly, your body already clenching around him as he fills you up completely.

Johnny wraps his hand around his aching cock and strokes it as you ride Doyoung.

Your body becomes cold even as you sweat from the constant movement.

Your mind is flooded with sounds of Johnny’s moans coupled with the new sound of blood rushing through Doyoung’s veins and into your mouth. 

He guides you down onto him by placing both hands on your ass. You push down onto him harder and faster, moving your hips so that his cock curves into you and presses against that spot every time.

You whimper as your movements stutter.

Doyoung flips you over onto your back, he watches your mouth, covered in blood, fall open into a loud moan. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you want to cum.” Doyoung says with an evil smirk across his face covered in your blood now.

He thrusts into you hard and places both hands on your knees. He pushes them further apart and watches as he slams himself into you.

“Johnny..she feels so good..she’s just like you imagined for all these years..”

“But how does she taste?” Johnny strokes himself faster as he aims for your breast.

“Her blood tastes sweeter than any berry, and her pussy? Well, you’ll just have to try that yourself.” He goes faster, so fast you can only feel a satisfying vibration that stimulates your clit.

You throw your head back. “Fuck..Doyoung..”

“Do you want me to stop?” He stops suddenly to tease you.

“No no no no, keep going..please!” You beg in a high pitched tone almost embarrassingly.

He resumes his speed, watching your hands grip the sheets and your eyes roll in the back of your head as you cum.

Doyoung grunts and releases inside you.

He milks himself out completely as you shake from your orgasm. You see stars and entire galaxies, a feeling washing over you like no other feeling.

You gasp and watch Doyoung pull out. He moves to the side while watching his cum leaks out of your entrance.

Johnny then flips your limp body over. He wraps and arm around your waist and pulls you against his hard cock. You’re sensitive so you cry out from suddenly being pushed into by his long member. 

He grabs your hair and bends your neck backward before biting into it to suck more of your blood. Your overwhelming sensitivity soon fades away and your climax starts to build again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach becoming nearly unbearable once more.

Johnny’s nails dig into your waist, slamming your ass against his hips as he reaches your depths over and over. He goes crazy from the feeling of your silky walls tightening around his cock. He wants to bury his cum so deep inside your pussy, that it leaks for days. And your sweet blood, he could drink it forever, he could drink you dry.

But Doyoung won’t allow that. “That’s enough..she’ll pass out if we take any more.”

Johnny stops drinking but grunts as he goes harder and faster.

Your knees make an indent in the mattress, you hold onto Doyoung’s hands for support as your mouth falls open.

“Fuck…” all you can mutter are curse words as Johnny destroys you.

Doyoung kneels in front of you, his intimidating cock sticking out hard once again.

He strokes it. 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. You had to taste him, again. You craved him.

With low eyes, you maintain eye contact as he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat. You flatten your tongue, licking the underside of it. You press your tongue hard against every vein then kiss the tip once he pulls back out.

He pushes back in faster this time, listening to you gag and watching as tear up.

You moan to send vibrations through his body. Doyoung throws his head back and mutters “shit..”

You gag again but breathe through your nostrils.

Johnny presses into you one more time before shooting milky strings across your walls. He pants while cursing then lowers himself so that he can taste you from behind. He licks up all the slick that has escaped and sticks his tongue in as deep as possible.

The night went on for hours as you switched positions and brought each other to paradise too many times to count.

You collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep once the three of you were done.

———-

[The Next Morning]

For the first time, sunlight burnt your eyes and made you suffocate. You tried to jump up from the bed, but then you noticed that your legs and arms were tied to a bed that wasn’t yours. You looked around and saw that you were on it by yourself.

Where was Johnny? Where was Doyoung? Why did you feel a burning hunger in your chest?

You recognized the smell of an old building and looked above you. It looked like you were in some sort of castle. You were covered in a thin white sleeping gown that you didn’t recognize either.

“Doyoung!! Johnny!!”

A door in the corner of the room opens and in walks Doyoung with a smirk across his face and something in his hand.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Doyoung..please, I don’t feel good.” You strain against the chains.

Your eyes widen when you realize what dangles from his grasp.

Johnny’s head..

“No!!!!” You scream loudly.

“Oh, like music to my ears..” Doyoung chuckles and dangles the head above your body.

He sees your body through the thin fabric, your breasts and perfect curves, the warmth between your legs that he missed so badly. He almost regretted his decision.

He bit his lip and watched you struggle.

“Doyoung!! Why?!” You sob.

“Because you’re mine, you can’t be his too!”

Doyoung walks back over to the door and chucks the head outside.

He walks back over to you. “Well, now that we know what happened to Johnny, we need to discuss what’ll happen to you.”

“What did you do to me?!” You say through gritted teeth.

“Actually..it was Johnny that turned you..not me, but I made sure to kill him this time.”

Your face fell. This was exactly what Doyoung wanted. He lured you in by using Johnny, then he got Johnny to change you. They both seduced you to crowd your mind and make you too filled with lust to care. And now, you turned into the very thing that you hated the most.

“Now you realize…” Doyoung nods and strokes the side of your face.

“I couldn’t just let you get away with exposing my secrets and putting me in jail..I mean, the sex was amazing, so amazing, but I still couldn’t let you get away with it.”

You shake your head. “Please..I’m yours, I’ll do anything. I always wanted to be yours but I was too stubborn.”

“And the stake under your pillow? Would you have used it against me?” He pouts.

“No! I was going to love you.”

“Love me? A monster?”

“Doyoung please!!”

“This is your prison now...and when you are free, look for me, I’ll be waiting for you, my love..” he walks out and leaves you alone still tied to the bed.

————

[3 Days Later]

You finally break your chains with your new strength. You run out of the room, but find that you are in an old castle. When you run through the destroyed halls and into the courtyard, you see nothing but ocean.

Doyoung left you on the notorious Gil-Eul Castle, a mansion on a secluded island that was hundreds of miles from the nearest coast. It was known as the meeting grounds for vampires long ago, but your family along with other hunters destroyed it, planting bombs in the form of air strikes to kill everyone inside.

You yelled into the sky and ran around rampantly, searching for anything to eat.

You felt like you were going insane without blood. You were literally burning from the inside out because of the lack of blood in your system.

————

[20 Years Later]

You survived the last 20 years off of fish and rats. You never stopped thinking about Doyoung and how you’d get your revenge. You’d kill him slowly, make him suffer like you had, and even though you didn’t look any older, you felt tired and weak from watching the years fly by in a broken castle.

Until one day..a ship approaches the building. You watch from above as several construction workers all onto the island.

You lurk in the shadows and wait until one of them has strayed away from the group.

The man turns around when he feels that he is being followed, but sees nothing.

He turns back around and continues walking.

You reach out from a hallway and grab him by the collar. You feed on him quickly then do the same with the other men. One by one, you kill each man to quench your plentiful years of undying thirst. 

But you’re not dumb, you save one of the men so that he can bring you back to your country. The man tells you that they had planned to clear the island and build a resort.

You take your tattered dress off and shower in the bathroom on board. You break down in tears when you feel warm water and soap on your skin for the first time in twenty years. You were finally free.

You find a set of clothes set aside by the workers and put them on. It’s a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that’s not the right size, but it’ll have to work for now.

Once home, you hypnotize the man that brought you back.

“Tell them your team was attacked, you were the only one that survived. It was a man with fangs and pale skin. His name is Doyoung.”

The man nods, then walks off the ship and heads for the police station.

You, on the other hand, go in the opposite direction.

You thought about visiting your parents and letting them know that you were okay, but what would they say now that you were a vampire? Would they try to kill you?

You weren’t sure, so you continued walking to his mansion.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus, you knew that all vampires were connected and that if you tried hard enough, you could sense where he was.

It didn’t take long before you heard his voice. It was coming from an apartment about 10 miles away.

Of course he stayed in a nearby city.

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer.

With round glasses on, he opened the door and smiled widely. “I knew you’d find me..”

“Invite me in.” Your voice was stern.

Doyoung nodded. “Of course.”

“Are you here to kill me?” He walks behind you.

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead.”

You turn to him.

“Why did you do this to me?”

“Life is pretty boring for an old man like me..I wanted to do something different.” He sits on the couch, then pats his thigh. “One last time before I say goodbye. I’ve missed you..”

You scoff. “You never came back, so I couldn’t really tell.”

“You were in solitary confinement, what could I do?”

You walk over to him and sit on his lap.

He placed his hands onto your ass and brought your body down onto his pelvis.

“Did you miss me?”

“No..”

He bucks into your clothes opening, brushing his hard member against it. “Are you sure?”

You bite your bottom lip, then reach to your back and pull out your stake.

You had made it with materials from the burnt down castle. You even engraved your initials into it, knowing that you’d use it to kill him.

“Yes..”

He smirks and licks his lips. “Are you ready?”

“Why aren't you scared?” Your brows furrow.

He chuckles. “I’ve been anticipating this moment for quite some time actually.”

You shake your head. “That’s not fair, this is too easy.”

He flips you over onto your back and suddenly you’re in his room and lying on his bed with him in between your legs. “And would you rather I make it difficult for you? Are you sure you want to wait another 20 years?”

You whimper as he commands your needy body effortlessly.

He grinds down into you. “If you won’t be mine willingly, then I would rather die..so are you ready, my love?”

You pause for a moment.

“Absolutely.” You press the stake into his chest, watching as his final breath leaves his beautiful lips.

[yer-cute-when-you-scream]

Unsuspecting Activities~ Jung Jaehyun

WARNINGS: Smut, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Almost Being Caught 587 Times. (I’m probably forgetting something)

Request:  Husband Jaehyun being denied by you and also because family members are walking in on them until he snaps mad Jaehyun with extra hair pulling

A/N: I’m back from the dead, this was requested a long while back and I had finished it and then forgot the hair pulling so I wrote that in literally last minute so I’m so sorry if you feel it doesn't have enough of that in here. I have been sick so that's why I haven't posted in a bit, but I'm putting a Got7!Prince in the queue for tomorrow! 

I kept glancing over towards my husband, Jaehyun, taking in how gorgeous he looks when he isn't even trying. The black jeans he wore fit him so nicely, his shirt was unbuttoned at the top so his chest peeked out of it, and a silver chain adorned his neck.

My family was having a cookout and Jaehyun and I decided to come, unaware of the fact that I would randomly get horny in the middle of it.

My inner thighs felt warm, my panties were sticky from arousal and they clung to me uncomfortably. Jaehyun finally looked over to me and smiled, I motioned for him to come here and he did, I grabbed his hand and led him into the house.

”Babe, where are we going?” Jaehyun asked confusedly, but never slowing his pace. ”To my old bedroom,” I reply before opening the door to said room.

It still had most things from when I was a teenager, my parents still don't know what they want to do with this room yet so they just left it alone.

After shutting the door I turn around and pull Jaehyun closer to me, a smirk appears on his face as realization finally hits him.

”You're horny, aren't you?”

I nod then pull him into a heated kiss, our tongues explore each other's mouths and begin to make us needier. My hand hovers over his bulge and I start palming him through his pants, a small groan leaves his mouth and his hands go to my ass.

Pleasure was written all over his face as I kept rubbing him and bringing him closer to the edge.

Footsteps came down the hall and I jerked my hand away and turned around before he could release, my body blocked the view of his pants so no one could see his boner.

The door opened and revealed my sister, she raised a question, ”Hey, what are you doing in here?”

”Oh, I was just showing Jaehyun my old room, he has never seen it before,” I answered, surprised at myself that I didn't stutter.

She understandably nodded and closed the door, her steps fading down the hall. I turn back around and see how red Jaehyun’s face is, I choke on a laugh and he glares at me.

”You should see your face,” I giggled, he rolled his eyes at me and pulled me close to him again.

”Haha so funny...now where were we?”

He holds my face with one hand while the other holds my waist, backing up until my back is against the wall. This time I unbutton his pants then slide my hand into his underwear, wrapping my hand around his length and slowly pumping it.

”Shit, I need you so badly Baby.”

His lips found their way to mine, he let out a harsh exhale into the kiss then moved his hands to my breasts, softly massaging them through my clothes.

Once again, our movements froze when we heard footsteps coming down the hall, Jaehyun quickly fixed his pants and I opened the closet door next to us.

The bedroom door opened, this time revealing my mom, her voice was cheerful as she sparked a question, ”I was wondering where you two went.”

A small chuckle leaves my mouth as I pretend to look through the closet, ”I was looking for one of my photo albums I left here.”

”Oh, I think they're in a blue container up there.”

Jaehyun immediately reaches to grab it as I tell my mother we would be out in a bit, after she walks away I walk over and shut the door. ”That was a close one,” Jaehyun states, he puts the container down and comes closer to me. 

Lust clouded his eyes, he presses his lips against my neck as I loosen his pants again, nibbling softly at my skin. He slipped his hand under the sundress I wore and rubbed my clit through my soaked panties, I sighed in pleasure and pushed his pants to his ankles. 

Dropping to my knees, I lick a long stripe along his length before taking all of him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his tip every now and then. Jaehyun grips my hair and throws his head back, ”Fuck, Baby,” he moaned out. 

I hallowed my cheeks out and bobbed my head back and forth at a quicker pace, Jaehyun’s breathing is rapid. 

”Baby, I'm gonna-” 

His sentence is cut short as my name is called once again, I remove him from my mouth and stand up, Jaehyun rolls his eyes and pulls his pants up with a huff. He hides behind the door and I open the door with an annoyed look on my face, my sister stops in her tracks and raises her eyebrows. 

”When are you coming back?” she asks. 

”Jaehyun and I are having a serious discussion, can you please give us like thirty minutes? It's important.” 

”Oh, I'm sorry, I'll let you guys continue your talk.” 

She quickly walks away and Jaehyun shuts the door, this time locking it, he picks me up, causing me to squeal as I wrap my legs around his waist. 

”I’m so sick and tired of being interrupted,” he grunts and takes me to the bed, ”I just want to fuck my wife and finally get the release I've been deprived of.” He drops his pants and lifts my dress up, pushing my panties to the side, ”Fuck, you're so wet,” he groans as he rubs his head against my entrance, making me whimper. 

He harshly pushes into me and grips my hips, thrusting in and out of me before I adjusted. My hand covers my mouth to muffle my moans, an intense pleasure began to course through my body and I knew everyone would hear me if I didn't cover my mouth. 

”What’s the matter, Babe? Getting to be too much for you already?” Jaehyun grunts as he deeply pounds into me. 

I mewl against my hand and scratch down his arms with my other, wrapping my legs around him to pull him closer. My body shook beneath him as I felt a pit in my stomach, and Jaehyun could tell by the way my eyes screwed shut. 

He halts his movements and grabs my face, a dark look in his eyes, “Don’t you dare cum yet,” he growled in my ear. 

I look up at him with wide eyes, his jaw was clenched and his aura almost seemed merciless. He pulled out of me and with one hand on my hip flipped me onto my stomach, wasting no time to penetrate me again. 

A frantic gasp left my mouth and I buried my head into the bed, the feeling of hips rocking into me was invigorating. My head was quickly lifted by force, Jaehyun had his hands tangled in my hair, “God, you feel so fucking good.”

My mouth hung open as I tried to choke down my moans, the way he was brutally thrusting into me and pulling my hair had me delirious and I was soon feeling that pit build up in my stomach again.

“Baby, please let me cum!” I pleaded through a moan.

I could tell he was close as well and my pleas only brought him closer to edge, Jaehyun moved his other hand to my throat and squeezed the sides of it, growling as his pace sped up.

”Cum for me.”

His words were more than enough for me to release the orgasm I desperately wanted, pure ecstasy washed over my body, my moans were silent as Jaehyun choked me. He grunted loudly and emptied his load inside of me, sloppily thrusting as we rode our highs out together. 

He removed his hand from my throat and helped me turn back around, he deeply kissed me and began to pet my hair.

”We should get back out there,” he sighed, pulling out of me and tugging his pants up. Sitting up, I agreed, smoothing my dress out before smiling at him. 

I pulled him by his shirt closer to me and he chuckled, ”Hopefully, we can continue more of this when we get home,” I suggested. The quick smirk that appeared on his face showed lust, but it changed into a sweet smile. 

”Of course, Babe.”

Jaehyun held my hand as we walked back out, everyone unsuspecting of of the activities that took place in my old bedroom. We continued stealing glances from each other for the rest of the time we stayed.

[winchesterxxi]

My Favorite Ghost (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rating: T (Teen and Up Audiences)

Type: Angst

Summary:  What happens when a Resistance fighter gets trapped on Republican grounds and the man in charge of her torture is none other than her ex-husband Poe Dameron, former Leia Organa’s protegée turned First Order Admiral?

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Force-sensitive reader, torture, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, swearing, death.

A/N: Poe Dameron angst??? oof

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

The mission couldn’t’ve gone more astray.

It was a simple and easy task for a single person to carry out. Fly below the cruiser, get in, get their coordinates for their next targets and get out. Hand the coordinates over to Holdo, and prevent the StarDestroyer from blazing those planets.

Simple. Until it wasn’t.

It all went astray when a face scanner crossed your path. The blueprints didn’t mention any face scanner on that door. You panicked, trying to get your face to scan and let you in, resorting to fiddling with the wires on the side of the device looking left and right to make sure no one would catch you. Except they did.

4 stormtroopers rounded the corner and, hands full with a small screwdriver and needle-nose pliers, you couldn’t have moved fast enough to reach your blaster before they had pinned you against a wall, face against the cold metal.

Next thing you knew, a dark sac is being put over your head and right after your body is pulled away from the wall, a hard object hits the back of your head and you are knocked out cold.

You don’t know how long it had passed before you regained your senses, eyes struggling to open due to the immense brightness that was aimed at you from a light above.

You scanned around the room as much as your body allowed you to, for you soon enough came to find everything below your neck strapped to a metal platform that stood upright in the middle of the room you were in.

You could spot a few cameras pointed at you, and you could also hear steps and muffled voices outside as well as a distant and low rumble of the ship’s engines – you should be close to the cockpit. Most torture rooms tended to be. That way, the commanders and soldiers don’t need to walk far to deliver information obtained from those captured.

The thoughts in your head didn’t have much more time to run wild as the big double doors in front of you opened and gave way to a silhouette to step into the room before they closed again behind them.

For as much as you forced your eyes to read them, it was practically impossible because of the light pointed directly at your face, coming from above. All you could see was the bottom of their uniform – knee-high dark leather boots and black pants, either a general or an admiral, and the clenched fists in shiny leather gloves - as they stood in front of you, hidden from the light.

“Are we getting this over with anytime soon?” you question bitterly while resting your head back and closing your eyes. You’d be damned if you were going to show any fear to anyone within this ship.

“Although I won’t blame you for just standing there, I know I’m pretty pleasant to look at.” Confidence, fake it until you make it. Or until you piss someone off, which is a better description of what you were aiming at.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Your blood runs cold.

Head snapping back down, facing forward, your jaw tightens and your whole body tenses at the reverberation of those words against the metal walls. And that is when the person you dreaded the most to run into again, in your whole life, steps into your sight.

His eyes meet yours and for a moment you think your mind is deceiving you.

This isn’t him.

Those eyes do not belong to the face in front of you. They aren’t his eyes. His eyes had a constant sparkle in them with the life that bubbled inside of him; they were big, brown, kind and caring.

These are hard, dark and cold. Lifeless.

“Poe.”

Despite his name leaving your lips in something little above a whisper, you know that name no longer refers to him. Not in the way it was engraved in your mind. Poe was your husband, the lively and witty resistance pilot that Leia Organa had assured you were meant for you. And maybe he was. But this isn’t Poe. This is someone – something else.

“It’s Admiral Dameron.”

You grith your teeth together and have to muster all the strength in you to not let your bottom lip quiver at the coldness and lack of emotion in his voice, so distant from that you were used to in the sweet nothings that would reach your ears in the mornings you’d wake up in his arms.

“What do you want?” you ask him, voice tainted with both pain and disgust.

“I could ask you the same thing. You were the one caught in our ground, trying to break a facial recognition system. What exactly were you looking to get?”

“It was outside the navigation system room. Take a wild guess.” Your anger-powered wit met a halt, as a sharp pain ran through your whole body with great intensity.

A pained screamed was let out of your mouth, muscles tensing and thrusting your body forward against the metal boundaries that enveloped your ankles, thighs, wrists, middle and upper torso.

Once the sting stopped, you threw your body back, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch your breath, as Poe circled where you stood.

“Being a smartass won’t get you anywhere.” He taunts from behind you.

“Because being honest and cooperative will get me a congratulatory snack after this, right?” you weren’t about to give in, and apparently neither was he as another violent ache ran across your body, this time for a few more seconds longer.

“You really don’t listen to people’s warnings, do you?” he snaps his intimidating eyes at you while coming back around to stand in front of you.

“I had a good teacher.” You manage to jeer through gritted teeth. That gets a reaction out of it. One that would be imperceptible to the common person, unless they had been married and in love with them, so much so that they picked up on every little quirk.

“You do realize you’re not getting out of here alive.” It wasn’t even a question, more so of a statement as his lowered head allowed his eyes to look up at you through his lashes, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach at the realization, and you have to blink away the tears that threatened to make an appearance.

“You would do that? Kill me?”

“It’s protocol. Resistance scum dies, either if they deliver a confession or not.”

“You won’t even say my name, but you’re okay with having your hands being the ones that put an end to my life?” he doesn’t answer, breaking the wall he had put up for a fraction of a second when his eyes wander around, away from yours. “And Resistance scum? Wow, your ego really is something.”

“Shut up.”

“The only scum I see here is the one standing in front of me, who betrayed friends and family to save his own ass”

“I SAID SHUT UP.” His left-hand slams against the metal behind you, just a few inches away from your face and you flinch, eyes closing at the sudden movement, the fleeting possibility that he could hit you crossing your mind.

When you open your eyes you see his face just inches away from yours, heavy breathing fanning against your face, his hand still rested next to you.

Your eyes are distant, looking somewhere above his other shoulder as you shift your right hand, as much as the restraints allowed, palm facing upward and fingers spread. Between your faces surges a ring, attached to a silver chain that surrounded your neck.

You bite the inside of your cheek and a single tear spills out of your right eye, his attention remaining on the object floating in front of him.

That is his mother’s wedding ring, or rather, it was, until the day he gently put it around your neck, the day that was now so far behind in time that, together with the present circumstances almost felt like a fever dream. He had insisted that you both didn’t need wedding rings as the simple act of you wearing his necklace, the one everyone knew was destined to rest against the sternum of whoever he’d end up deciding on spending the rest of his life with, was enough.

And you never took it off. Not after he started to seem more distanced. Not when he’d started to snap at you. Not when the fights started. Not when you started to sleep in separate rooms. Not when he turned on you mid-mission and started to shoot at your X-Wing. Not when, moments after that, he turned his X-Wing around, killing a few other Resistance pilots. And not when he flew away, following the First Order fleet.

You never took it off.

Closing your eyes, you relax your hand and let the ring fall back against your chest and Poe pushes his hand off the metal, taking a few steps back. He looked… ill at ease.

“What happened, Poe?” you whisper, voice begging for an answer, his name sounding on your lips for the second time today, the most it’s had in little over a year. And, surprisingly, he doesn’t correct the way you address him.

“There was never a chance of us winning. We were outnumbered, our technology wasn’t as advanced… It was either surrender or joining them.” Something tightens inside of you at the way he used us and them to reference the Resistance and the First Order. He was referring to himself as Resistance. Probably unconscious. You decide against pointing it out or correcting him.

“And you chose to join them.” You slowly nod “Was it all so meaningless to you that you could just turn your back on us?”

“The Resistance will forever be doomed.” He utters bitterly.

“You wanna talk about forever?” you question, eyes red and glazed with how wet they were, and he stares at you.

“THIS –“ you raise your voice and look down, motioning to the ring resting against your flight suit, before looking back up to meet his gaze “WAS FOREVER.”

Your words and the silence that followed hung between the two of you almost as making the air in the room thicker by the second.

“Do you ever even think about me anymore? Or does your every thought revolve around these people?” tears sting your eyes once more and you take a shaky breath in “Every morning when I wake up I still expect to have my cheek resting against your chest, but there’s only a pillow. When I go to Leia I expect you to be standing next to her, planning some sort of strategy. When I fly in my X-Wing I still expect the commlink to crackle with your voice. When I see BB rolling my way, I still look up in hopes of seeing you walk up behind him. I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate you with every fibre of my being. But I also love you in equal measure.”

Poe remains immobile, standing a few feet ahead of you, the device that controls the electric shocks tightly fisted in his left hand and he is looking at you, straight ahead. At this point, you are panting with the effort of mustering out all of those words and feelings through the tears and sobs that rattle your whole body.

“Somehow, after all the shit you’ve done, I still love-”

You don’t manage to finish those words, the second time you’d be uttering them in over a year as they die on your lips and are replaced by a glass-shattering scream of pain, as the sharp burst of electricity travels your body once more during a much more excruciatingly long time. All your muscles tense as much as they can and you forget what breathing feels like.

Once Poe’s thumb slides of the control button, your whole body jerks forward, panting, tears falling to the ground beneath your hovering feet, head down. Despite the rational choice being to shut up you need to say this. You know that he is still there, somewhere, below all that darkness that took hold of him. He is still there. And you need to get him out.

“I still lo-“

Poe’s thumb slides over the button once again, inflicting another piercing wave of torture to your already spent body. Something is, indeed, still in him as this time around he can’t bring himself to look at you and at the way the electricity is slowly but surely bringing you closer to a point of no return. And despite the tears blurring your vision, this fact doesn’t go unnoticed.

After he relieves the pressure on the button, your body no longer jolts forward but instead goes limp against the metal board, the back of your head resting against it, mouth starting to taste like blood, which peeks through the corner of your mouth.

“You won’t even look.” You struggle to get the words out, voice coming out raspy and hurting as it passes through your throat.

“If you’re going to kill me, at least be man enough to look at me when you do it.”

Your whole body is pulsing with aftershocks of pain and you are struggling to keep your eyes open, feeling your eyelids grow heavier. Just when you are about to close your eyes, just to rest them, you told yourself, you hear Poe’s voice for the first time since he told you the Resistance was doomed.

“After all this, do you still love me?” Your brain can’t quite comprehend if by this he means the torture or all the events that you crying about earlier, the ones that led him to join the First Order.

Either way, the answer would be the same.

“Yes.”

Jaw tensing, Poe pushes the button in his fist one more time, watching your body light up with the blue electric jolts that ran your full height up and down, side to side, travelling through each of your limbs eating away at the remaining life in your body. His lips were trembling just the slightest and his eyes, lit with the image in front of him, started to be glazed by tears.

He didn’t let the button go for much longer than he previously had, being completely lost inside his mind and out of it at the realisation that even after all the shit he put you through and the hurt he caused you, you still loved him.

It wasn’t until he stopped seeing you squirm that his finger release the button and your body fell completely limp against the metal, head falling down, the metal loops preventing you from falling forwards completely. He hesitated in stepping closer to you, scared of you moving or rather not, he wasn’t sure.

But his heart gave in to the breaking of itself when the latter possibility turned out to be the truth.

You weren’t moving.

You weren’t breathing.

There was blood dripping from your mouth onto the floor.

You were gone.

And he did it.

A trembling hand of his came up to push your head back against the platform holding you.

That’s when he took a good look at your lifeless face, and a shaky exhale left his lungs.

Oh, how he still loved you.

He wanted to cradle your face in his hands a lay a kiss against your forehead, run his knuckles against your cheek and wipe the blood away from your soft lips.

But they were watching him. The cameras were pointed at him and the microphones were on, preventing him from freely displaying any kind of affection towards you.

Blinking away the tears and trying to keep his body language as much stoic as possible, his gloved hand reaches up for the ring that hung from the chain draped around your neck and he pulled it down, breaking the silver link as it released the hold it had on you.

He slid the ring into the chest pocket of his uniform before walking away, towards the door, and out. Leaving the lifeless body of the only person who could ever allow him redemption behind, limp and broken.

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[lovecanbesostrange]

It started with an ask on konako’s blog, that led to a small scene with Red kneeling before the Evil Queen. (x) That was almost Red Queen fun. But it spun into something very dark, because the Evil Queen did capture Red and torture as punishment followed (this goes into dead-dove territory, you are warned, it’s messed up). Here are 4k words of what happened in the palace dungeon afterwards (spoiler alert, excessive use of silver):

summary: Red made the Evil Queen look foolish and gets utterly destroyed for it (graphic depictions of violence included)

Finally a little triumph. The Evil Queen went down the stairs into the dungeon. Every step of her well-shined heeled boots echoed loudly from the stone steps. Sometimes she wished she had more patience to make good use of the cells down here. But she was bored too easily not getting answers and the prisoners died quickly. Her torturer barely had anything to do. Why did she even pay him anymore? (Did she pay anyone in the palace? They were allowed to live and had nice enough accommodations and food, for sure that was enough.)

But now Regina wanted to take all the time in the world. Her knights had captured that wolf woman! After the bloodbath she had caused weeks ago that made Regina look foolish, she would enjoy their time together now. And it would send Snow White a message in the end.

Two guards were posted outside the cell and two inside. Of course knowing they dealt with a werewolf made handling the prisoner easier. For one the full moon was a couple of nights away. And silver was easy to come by to keep her in line. Regina had also instructed her blacksmith to forge some chains in preparation for when she would be captured. It had been a priority task.

When Regina entered the cell she smiled and took in the sight. Red was chained up in the middle of the room. She was stripped down to her undergarments, her clothes on the floor, except for her cloak that was draped over one of the tables. Her arms were raised above her head, wrists bound by the heavy cuffs each connected to a chain going through a loop in the ceiling and then stretching all the way to a bolt in the wall. Her ankles were cuffed as well, a short heavy chain in between so she couldn’t take any significant steps. Not that she could run away, since her toes barely reached the ground. Red had to carry her weight in her arms, shoulders.

“Well, well, well, so we meet again.” Regina took her time to enter and circled Red, who tried to follow her with her eyes. “You made quite a spectacle the last time.”

“Do you want an apology?” Red’s voice was firm. Too firm for Regina’s taste.

“I don’t think you could muster up an honest one. You’re a deceiver.” Regina stopped in front of her. “Begging for those peasants’ lives and then killing my men.” She grabbed Red’s chin with her thumb and index finger. “You said there was no need for bloodshed and you happily slaid them anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t tried to take me.”

“As if you thought I would let you walk away from there.” Regina looked closely into those green eyes. Was the bravado real or just posturing? “Don’t get me wrong, the way you killed those men without a second thought was impressive. I can admire that. But the humiliation it would have been to return to the village and enact punishment, admitting to being defeated that day - I can’t let that slide.” She slapped Red across the cheek.

Red closed her eyes and didn’t turn her face back up. She was glad the villagers had been spared. Regina didn’t know how long she had stuck around to make sure there was no retaliation. And whatever was about to follow, would have been worth it. Snow had her plans to strike and they were close to luring the Queen into a trap. But every day more innocent people could die and Red could not sit by. She owed it to the victims of the wolf to use her strength for good now.

She heard Regina take a few steps back and looked again. The cloak was in her hands now. “Do you have any other name or should I just call you Red. Not very original, is it? Naming yourself after a bit of fabric.” Her fingers traced the patterns. “I sense magic in this. But I guess asking about it will not bring me answers, right? Just like any of Snow White’s plans won’t leave your lips.”

Statements. The Evil Queen had made up her mind already, questions weren’t part of whatever this encounter was. Red turned her hands around and tried to get a grip on the chain, change her position the slightest bit to take some strain off of her already burning shoulders.

“Do you know there isn’t much to find in books about your kind?” Regina exchanged the cloak for something else from the table. It reflected a bit of the amber light emitted from the fireplace and Red could see it was a simple dagger. “The one thing that is said over and over though is your weakness towards silver. I’m curious. Is it just the metal or wounds inflicted by it?”

Red already clenched her jaw before Regina put the blade against the skin on her upper arm, preparing to get cut. But instead Regina pressed the flat side on her skin first. Definitely silver. Pure. Red felt the effect in a matter of seconds and bit down, grinding her teeth.

Regina stood close again, caught her eyes with her gaze and kept pressing the blade against the tender side of her arm. “Don’t worry, I will write down everything I’m about to do here, so the books can add a chapter about how to break a wolf when in their human form.” And with that she turned the dagger and cut the skin. Red flinched, more from the shock than the actual pain. It was a relief actually to have the silver leave her.

“Are there noteworthy differences between a cut with this,” Regina lifted the dagger, “and a normal blade?” She gestured towards one of the guards and he immediately unsheathed a dagger from his boot. Without hesitation Regina reproduced the cut on the other arm. The blood almost tickled as it ran down. “Oh no, I’m making a mess. Getting blood out of clothes is such a hassle.”

Regina let one of the daggers fall down and with the other cut along the seams of Red’s top half of what she was left wearing. Red closed her eyes again as she felt air hit her exposed body. She knew which weapon Regina held and she could feel the silver being drawn over her skin, over her collarbone, between her breasts, down to her navel. The point barely left a scratch, but the offending metal felt like being brushed with a nettle. Red took in deep, sharp breaths through her nose.

That reaction was exactly what made Regina go slower with her movements. It wasn’t the sharpness that left the light red mark, no, it appeared the longer she held the blade in place. What an interesting sight to watch. Regina brought her free hand up to Red’s chin again, this time squeezing her jaw with her palm, digging her fingers into her cheek. Red looked at her again.

“You know, the longer you resist, the more adamant I will be to make you scream. That is how these things work.” She brought the dagger up to Red’s forehead, this time with the edge to cut into her skin again. It took a few seconds, but then the blood running over her eyebrows made Red blink.

“Can you hold this for me?” With that she wedged the silver dagger between the torn clothes and Red’s hips. Red squirmed trying to get away, but the blade touched her thigh ever so slightly. “I learned a valuable lesson the other day. A blacksmith works with iron. Like those chains holding you. Not used to working with silver. You would have to ask a silversmith about it. I even found one and he is working on special silver cuffs for me. Or rather, for you.”

Regina stood at the table again, her back to Red. When she turned around she held up a necklace. “So for now, I have to settle for delicate jewelry instead of the collar you deserve.” Under any other circumstance Red would have admired the piece. Obviously the star-shaped ornament was meant to hold a gemstone in place, a diamond or a sapphire, but this was stripped down to the silver components for one purpose only. “So you will get used to a leash later,” was all Regina added as she put it around Red’s neck.

Red held on. Her skin was crawling all over, the itch on her thigh burning already, but she tried to stay as still as possible. She couldn’t do anything against the tears forming in her eyes, betraying her brave face though.

Regina stood before her, brows furrowed. “Your healing isn’t as fast. I will need to wait hours to compare those cuts on your arms. There is something I am forgetting.” She rubbed her temples, feigning to think. “Oh, of course, I need a point of reference!” A clap of her hands alerted the guard. “You, get the girl from next door.” Red’s eyes went wide.

“No. Wait. You don’t need to drag anybody else into this.”

Regina stepped closer and slapped her across the cheek again, harder this time. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion and you will stop being so informal around me!”

“Yes, Your Majesty”, Red quickly gathered herself. “But please, there is no need-” But she already saw a frightened young girl being pushed into the cell. About her height and weight, seemingly healthy. For now. The girl fell to the floor and cowered there.

“I caught her stealing, so normally she would already be dead. But she can be of use for me.” Regina put a hand into her hair and yanked her head up, to make her look at Red. “Or do you want her dead right now?”

The terror Red felt was mirrored on the girl’s face. Was there a chance of survival for her? She was ready to beg for her life; to lie on that table where Regina obviously had more silver tools; to take any punishment herself. “No,” Red whispered. Another yank at the girl’s hair. “No, Your Majesty.”

“A fast learner.” She pushed the girl into a chair with cuffs on the armrests. Seating her in front of Red. The girl trembled and looked to the floor. Red tried to pull at her chains, but it only sent a jolt of pain through her shoulders.

Regina paced the room. After a while she came up behind Red. “Your shoulders must really hurt by now. Let me help you with that.” Her fingers played with the necklace and Red hissed. Shifting it around made the pain more noticeable. “The plate.” She said towards the guards. Behind Red a wooden plate leaned against the wall. A thin metal sheet on one side, coated in silver. She knew that before the guards shoved it under her feet. The wood added a few inches so in theory this took some of the weight off her shoulders, but the soles of her feet would soon itch, turn red, swell, hurt and most likely blister. She tried to balance on the outside of her feet only, to not hurt everywhere all at once.

“Do you know what the second thing is that some texts suggest to use against a werewolf?” Silence. “Oh, that was a genuine question directed at you. Do you know?”

“Fire.” Red answered between breaths. Her mouth was open now, it was dry. She didn’t dare to fully fill her lungs, because that made the necklace move. The attack on multiple parts of her body with the silver was starting to overwhelm her.

“That is correct. You know your weaknesses it seems.” Regina conjured a fireball in her hand. “Fire is pure. It doesn’t discriminate. It can be very elegant.” She stepped closer to Red, hand outstretched so she could feel the heat of the flame. “How fast can you heal a burn wound?”

“I don’t k-” Red couldn’t finish that sentence, because Regina held her hand to her side now. A scream was all that escaped her lips. The fireball wasn’t cast, but the flame burned her flesh. Red clenched her fists and tried to step away, the chains around her ankles making a screeching sound dragging over the silver plate. There was no escape, because Regina just followed with her hand. She closed her hand and the fireball vanished. Red went slack, her breathing sped up. The only good thing was that in this commotion, the dagger had gotten loose and fallen to the floor.

Red sorted out her senses, trying to gather her bearings, when she heard the girl scream. Louder, more fearful, indicating the horrible pain she never felt before. Regina had torn her clothes and burned her at the exact same place on her body. For reference. Red couldn’t put the horror of it into words. Would it indeed be better for the girl if she was dead already? She didn’t even know her name.

And Red didn’t learn her name over the next few days, because whatever happened, she would not talk to her. Regina had strictly forbidden it and the rotating guards would hit her at a single word. It was almost comical. Red’s body went numb. Cuts, rashes, bruises, welts, burns, scratches. It came and went. The pain was a constant throbbing, she got repositioned a few times, but it felt like she would never use her arms on her own accord again. But whatever happened to her, the girl looked worse. Red did heal faster from any wound not dealt with silver. But it did take a lot from her regardless. She lost track of time. What was sleep? Any kind of shame about being naked had vanished. Instead of clothes her body was covered in forming scars, marks and blemishes.

Red tried to count the rotations of the guards, to get any kind of feeling for the passing days. It was only days, right? It felt like forever. Silver on her skin somewhere at all times, lashes from a whip, getting burned with a torch, red hot iron, and so many cuts to make her bleed. The worst still a long deep wound on her right cheek, starting at her ear right to the corner of her mouth. When they allowed her some water, it even hurt to swallow.

Later Red found out it had been five days in total. It seemed like a small window of time. But the Evil Queen lived up to her name. Especially on day four, when she left permanent damage. While Red was mostly kept standing up, the girl was strapped to the chair. Not that she had any energy left to walk out of here, even if they’d opened the door for her. Regina stood behind her and pulled her head back.

“Just look at me, I’m sure this won’t hurt you.”

Red looked on as Regina dripped liquid into one of her eyes. The girl flinched, but that was a reflex. None of her sounds of discomfort or pain left her throat. That made Red more nervous than she would admit. And she was right to be.

“Just as I thought. Look at that, barely irritated.” She pushed the girl’s head forward, her eye teared up, maybe a bit reddened.

Regina walked around her and caught Red’s gaze. “Such beautiful green eyes. Quiet unusual. Of course not as remarkable as the wolfish gold, is it?” The way she kept staring was unnerving and Red’s breathing already picked up. Fear. In a short amount of time she had learned what fear truly was.

“Hold her steady.” A guard came and grabbed Red’s head from behind. Panic sunk in and she started to squirm, tried to turn her face away, to wiggle out of his grip. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she knew she wanted out. Right now. No more pain, she couldn’t take anymore. But she had to.

Regina got a few drops out of the vile, into Red’s right eye. “Don’t worry, it’s mostly water. Just a tiny bit of silver dust mixed into it.”

Red pushed her body back as hard as she could, but her mangled feet had no grip, it was more like leaning into the guy. No force to get him off. And then the pain started. It felt like a needle prick. And all of a sudden the colors exploded in Red’s sight. Everything was sharper, the light from the fireplace brighter. She knew her eyes turned golden like before she would transform. It had happened a few times, when highly agitated. Now it was a physical response.

Regina laughed. “I did not expect that.” She met Red’s terror with fascination. More needle pricks in her eye, the urge to rub it away. Red pulled at her chains, she wanted to press the palm of her hand against her eye and get the irritating feeling out. But there was no chance. All Regina saw was the golden color and Red gasping for air, holding back a scream. The hitched breathing was a good enough tell that this hurt.

Worse than the pain that kept sinking in was the way Red started to see white dots, blind specks in her vision. Three, four, five, more and more. She blinked, her tearducts fighting off the intrusion, but the silver too strong an opponent. Red clenched her jaw and groaned. She let out a growl from deep within, filled with frustration and pain. It was more of a bellow than a scream. Regina smiled at that.

While Red’s left eye got back to its human green, the right eye stayed golden, a misty layer clouding the bright hue. It drew Regina’s full attention, while it would be weeks for Red to discover the permanent change. Blinded, only noting a change between light and darkness. Her eyeball feeling like it was rubbed with sandpaper made the rest of the day seem like nothing. Time moved on

And then unthinkable happened. The chains were loosened completely, the cuffs came off. Red tried to curl up on the floor, but she could barely move her joints. Everything hurt too much. But Regina laughed. “Remember that I said I will make you beg for more than mercy? How about you ask me to end her suffering?”

Red looked up. Trying to adjust to the impaired vision. As bad as she felt, the girl looked worse. “Please…”, the girl said and the guard standing behind her, hit her against the head immediately.

It took everything Red had to turn herself upright, to bend her knees and sit on them. To kneel before Regina again. No side eye, no hint of a smirk, no failsafe. The burn marks hurt worst next to the chafed skin around her neck from the necklace that was also gone now. “Your…” Red was shaking, she had to cough trying to speak. “Please, Your Majesty. End her suffering. I beg you. Please. It’s enough… enough…” And with that she fell down again.

“Pathetic.” Regina’s verdict was cold as ice. “And to think I had a gift for you just now. Guards.” They stood next to Red and pulled her to her knees again, held her up. Regina leaned towards her. “My silversmith has arrived.” She produced a silver object and only when the lock clicked around her neck did Red realize this was the collar she had talked about. She felt the burn on her throat and winced. It was a sound she was used to producing by now.

“So?”

“Please… Your Majesty…” Red was panting, she could not finish the plea.

Regina rolled her eyes. “If this is the best you can do, so be it. Ending the suffering now.” And with that her hand shot straight into Red’s chest and pulled out her heart. “Kill her. Rip her throat out like you always do.”

Red wanted to scream. She wanted to jump the Evil Queen. To tear up the men holding her. But what she wanted was irrelevant all of a sudden. The will to do it was overwritten. She looked at the girl, defeated, not even surprised. While Red’s mind fully woke up for the first time in days, all her muscles reacted to something else. The pain all over her body was terrible, but every second she didn’t comply was even more agony.

Red crawled more than she walked to get to the chair. She hovered over her nameless victim, tried to hold back, but those terror-stricken eyes met hers. “Make it quick, please.” Oh, if only she could turn into a wolf, those sharp teeth would take less than a second. Regina had specified how this girl was supposed to die and Red could not opt to cut her throat with a knife, she sunk her still very human teeth into it. The larynx, so easy to wrap fangs around, was hard, the skin and flesh thick. The scream the girl let out was only short, because the pressure suffocated her. It was impossible to make this quick-

Finally Red tasted blood. Tears ran down her face, but she could not stop herself from this horrible act. This slow, agonizing, inhumane death of a nameless chamber maid, who probably hadn’t even stolen a thing. Someone at the wrong place, at the wrong time, who had suffered for days for cruel experiments with no merit. One more victim added to Red’s tally. Not for good. Not in battle. Not in defense. Needless cruelty.

When the girl’s heart stopped, Red finally could let go. She sank on all fours, spat out what she could of the blood and wailed. Her own heart wasn’t even in her chest, but it had never felt heavier.

“Get the smith down here now, he knows what to do.” Regina sent one guard away. Red looked up, warm blood dripping from her chin, she could feel it. Disgusting. If she had any strength left, this would be the time to strike. But all Regina needed to do was a little squeeze. Her heart hurt. No, Red was helpless. Any thought of fighting back an illusion.

“I think it’s best that you lie down on the table for this next part.”

Red wanted to put her head under a guillotine right now. To kill like that was worse than any of the torture methods the Evil Queen had come up with. Regina had won. But Red couldn’t do anything but comply and lied down, waiting for her fate.

It came in the form of a small white haired man, holding a sort of chalice with a long tongue. His hands were shaking and Red couldn’t tell if it was because of what he was doing or just being in Regina’s presence. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening. A guard came and put her wrists into the handcuffs again, strapping her to the table. A chain going over her thighs and under the table fixated her.

Regina squatted down next to her, stroking her hair. “Feel free to scream for me now.”

“The mold.” Wood was pressed against her back. “Careful with your fingers there, wouldn’t want to burn you.”

And then everything was fire. The scream from Red’s throat surprised Regina enough that she stood up. Loud, agonizing, on the brink of collapse. What looked like a chalice was a melting pot, containing a few grams of molten silver. It was poured on Red’s skin and burned her instantly, severely. Water followed mere seconds later to turn the liquid back to solid, but the damage was done. A silver ring fused into her flesh. The pain and the sensory overload from heat to cold send her into shock. She was still screaming with the taste of warm blood in her mouth when the faint claimed her.

[aarcanechaoss]

☆ Dazai has a girlfriend? ☆

☆ Smut + a little bit of crackheadness

Hearing the giggling of his coworker was normal, at least that’s what Atsushi told himself. The suicidal maniac was particularly chipper today and everyone noticed.

“Atsushi could you finish my paperwork for me.” His eyes widened and he pouted, “pleaseeee.”

“Dazai do your own.” Atsushi sighed.

“Ugh please! I’ll be late and then I’ll get in trouble and then I won’t get my present.” Fake tears welled in the man’s eyes.

“What are you on about now?” Kunikida piper up, clearly over Dazai’s weird mood.

“Ko will be mad I gotta gooo.”

“Who’s Ko?” Kenji asked. Naomi and Kyoka looked towards him with wide eyes, they wanted to know as well.

“Hm? Ko is my girlfriend.” He said nonchalantly.

Beat

“WHAT!” The agents yell. Dazai laughs, throws the last few pages onto Atsushi’s desk and slips towards the door.

“What’s the racket?” The President appeared around the corner with a raised brow.

“I have a date and must be off!” Dazai exclaims. Fukuzawa merely nods.

“Dazai.” Naomi called, he turned and tilted his head. “Why didn’t we know this? Who is she? What’s she look like? Is she beautiful? How long have you been together?”

“So many questions.” He smiles. “I can spare a moment to talk about my wonderful Ko!” If sparkles could appear in the air they would have.

“So-“ Ranpo prompts. What? He was intrigued as well- he hadn’t deduced that Dazai was in any kind of relationship.

“Well firstly, I like to think of work and private life separately. She’s a criminologist and I a private eye, we don’t really talk about work so I guess I just didn’t here. We’ve been dating nearly a year and she’s the most perfect woman ever.” His eyes gleamed in excitement. “She knows so many suicide methods it’s wonderful and she doesn’t think I’m weird!”

At that comment the ADA looked at Dazai with annoyance of course his girlfriend knows something about suicide methods to deal with him.

“Then why do you keep asking other women to die with you?” Atsushi asks.

“Hmm? Because I have to practice before I ask her. It’s a proposal after all.” The ADA stood still in shock as the man happily left the office on his way to his date. Once gone they erupted with questions.

“Do we follow?”

“He didn’t say what she looked like?”

“He seems pretty happy.”

“Wonder how they met.”

The president smiled at the mess but stood in thought. Dazai had unintentionally reminded him that he had to meet with his daughter in a few days to meet her boyfriend finally. That should be interesting.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Dazai walked along merrily, Kosuke was waiting at her apartment for him. His hands were tucked into his pocket, his fingers playing with the small Present in his left pocket. He bought her a necklace, nothing super fancy just a silver chain with two birds on it. Small, pretty and perfect for his favourite person.

The apartment door was beckoning him closer, his fingers twitched around the keys in excitement as he unlocked the door. Kosuke was waiting patiently at her dinner table, the food was warm and ready to be eaten when she heard the door unlock. Dazai walked in and grinned at the silver haired woman who quickly stood and ushered him to the table.

“How was work?” She asked.

“It was good but not interesting, just paperwork.” She rolled her eyes, she knew he’d probably give the paperwork to someone else to do. “Don’t roll your eyes I actually did most of it except like five pages. It was just signing things anyway... you?”

Kosuke sat beside her lover and smiled. “No new cases to look over nor and criminals to understand their minds. Anyway no more work talk eat up and then I’ll give you a gift.” She winked.

“Oh my my Kosuke I am indeed excited. Here for you.” He passed her the necklace box and opened it. She smiled and blushed, she loved it.

“It’s gorgeous... actually Osamu.” She bit her lip towards the handsome man. “How about we forgo dinner and get take out later? I’m not the best cook anyway.”

“My darling Ko, I’d love to skip to desert.” He reaches forward and captured her lips in a deep kiss, his fingers trapping themselves in her silver locks. Her metallic blue eyes closed slowly as she moved into the kiss, her own hands reaching forward to tug at him. “Bedroom.”

The adventure that was making it to her bedroom was difficult when making out and attempting to strip oneself of unnecessary clothes. Beneath her green dress was lacy underwear that he’ll have to remember she owns so he can toy with her another night tonight was something sweet and passionate, relaxing and needing. Finally being able to remove his pants he stood before her arms and neck bandaged while Kosuke herself wore a bandage around her neck.

Last week they’d spoken about this, how they wanted to show everything- yes they’d been together nearly a year but sex more often then not involved still wearing the bandages and they wanted to remove them, even if just for tonight.

Kosuke moved first, her hands trailing Dazai’s toned stomach, thumbs grazing small scars and bumps before beginning to undo the first bandage on his arm. His arms were scarred, his neck held a perpetual bruise from his hundreds of attempts and he knew she didn’t pity him, he knew she’d never say anything to push him away just as she knew he’d not be disgusted by the scar on her neck. He was lost in thought, staring at the underwear clad woman, he didn’t notice she’d undone the other arm. Her hands rested on his chest and she looked at him.

“I don’t have to take off this bandage.” She said. He stared at her.

“Take it off, I’ll take yours off too.” A hand cupped her cheek as he kissed her softly. Her smooth hands were quick and skilled as she removed the wrappings around his throat. Her thumb rubbed over the darkened skin before cupping his cheek instead. His own hands moved on their own, it felt strange not having the bandages on, he reached her neck and undid the bandage. The pink scar at the base of her neck spoke volumes and the rope burn that wrapped around her neck spoke even louder. If anything he thought Kosuke looked even more beautiful like this.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered resting his hands on her hips as his lips pressed against her neck. She sighed. He lightly bit the soft skin to elicit a moan. Quickly he removed her bra and palmed her chest, moving the heat from his palms around her body. She melted into the touch, her own hands dancing around his body before trailing to his briefs. She snapped the elastic against his skin and he hissed softly.

Being that she was slightly taller she had to lean a tiny bit towards him not that he minded, in fact he loved it, he loved her and everything about her. She pushed him towards the mattress and landed beside him, he rolled over till he was above her and between her thighs. His length twitched and hips bucked forward when his lower half met with hers.

For a few moments that’s all they did, grinding against each other while their hands exploded the others body. Kosuke’s hands knotted themselves in his hair, holding him close as their tongues fought for dominance. She let him win. Dazai sat back on his calves and Kosuke raised a brow.

“What’s up babe?”

“Can’t decide if I want to eat you out or fuck you.” He shrugged.

“Fuck me now and then wake me up in the morning with that tongue of yours.” She smirked, he reflected her face with his own and quickly moved to remove their last article of clothing each. His hands smoothed over her thighs, spreading them a little.

“So impatient and wet my love.” He giggled. Kosuke went to speak but Dazai oh Dazai had swiftly entered her till he was balls deep.

“Osamu!” She exclaimed with a rather loud whine. He’d never get over those gorgeous sounds nor the way she’d claw at his back (or chest when she rode him). Did her nails sting? Yes. Did he love the sting? Also yes. Slowly he rocked into her a moan sitting in the back of his throat. Her back arched up as he made one quick movement to thrust into her just right, she exposed her neck and he couldn’t control himself as he began scattering kisses and hickies over the soft and sensitive flesh, he was going to mark her good and he hoped she would too.

“Fuck fuck.” He growled as his pace picked up, his hair stuck to his face with sweat, his arms shook as he lent over the tall woman and moved to kiss her again. “You’re so fucking beautiful you know.” He moaned.

“Osa-mu.” She moaned against his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you... I love you too.” He groaned, she clenched around him and fuck did that make him wild. His thrusts became quicker and more erratic and her legs flung around his hips pulling him closer, heels digging into his lower back. He moaned, loudly. “Are you close?”

“Yes... yes yes can I Osamu?” She pleaded.

“Cum for me.” He breathed, one hand snaked between their bodies and rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves and she lost it. Her body twitched and shook and clenched around Dazai’s as she came. Dazai followed quickly pumping into her sloppily as he came inside her. “Kosuke.” He moaned before collapsing beside her.

Somehow, someway they pulled up a blanket and fell asleep together- Kosuke would clean the sheets in the morning.

When morning came Dazai was delighted to see Kosuke was still beside him, breathing slowly with a hand on his heart. She liked to know his heart was still beating, it’s cute. Suddenly his mind flashed with images of the night before and a sneaky smile made its way onto his face as he looked to the woman cuddled to his side.

“Fuck me now and then wake me up in the morning with that tongue of yours.” She had said and oh how he planned to as he slipped beneath the blankets and from her grip.

Waking up like that was absolutely wonderful- she’d admit unabashedly as his tongue worked magic against her core. And by the time she’d returned the favour of course someone had to call right as he’d finished in her mouth.

“Ugh it’s Kunikida.” He groaned and pressed answer. “Yes?”

“You are late for work.”

“No I’m not I don’t work today.”

“Yes you- oh... I see your schedule apologies.”

“Could he not call so early in the morning.” Kosuke grumbled.

“Now now Ko you have plenty of time to mark me before tomorrow.” Dazai giggled.

“Oh I- uh... is that your girlfriend?” He kind of wished he was at work now, just to see the uptight mans face.

“Yep. Now excuse us we wil continue where we left off BYE.”

Back at the office Kunikda was brighter than a tomato as he stared at the paperwork in front of him. Atsushi waved a hand in his face to get his attention.

“Kunikida?”

“After a brief phone call we can assume those two have an active lifestyle and I called them in the middle of it.” He cried. Atsushi, Kenji and Kyoka blinked in confusion whilst Yosano laughed so hard she was doubled over.

Ah what a lively bunch.

[zukosdumbbitch]

friction

work on ao3

pairing: jet/f reader

warnings: smut, arguing

wordcount: 1873

a/n: im srry but i needed to get this Out of my brain. characters are 18+

-

It was just at the crack of dusk and you were tidying up the room you shared with Jet in the freedom fighters’ scattered treehouse. You were Jet’s age, the two of you barely functioning adults, stubborn, opinionated, and to Jet, devastatingly alluring. He loved the clashing of your personalities, the way you so often disagreed with him and kept him on his toes. He loved his absolute authority in the group, but more than that, he loved a pretty girl deliberately challenging it.

You didn’t mind the arguments as much as you maybe should have. You saw through manipulation like sunlight through a clean window - clearly, immediately, and without doubt. Jet knew better than to mess with your head. And you knew he had a real soft spot for you - despite how much he’d try to hide it around others. You really liked him, even if he was a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Today was one of many designated days Jet and his favorite group of fighters would scout your woods and the neighboring areas. They would come back with food, that they stole, hunted, or plucked from wild plants, or with news about strangers arriving in the area and discussion of whether or not they were a threat. Jet would often return late, having taken it upon himself to do one last sweep of your unofficial territory. Normally you would join him, but you had stayed back to help the younger orphans patch up their clothes or whatever toys they managed to keep.

You carefully put your sewing kit back together, counting all the needles and neatly winding the thread. You closed the small wooden box and noticed a figure appear in your peripherals.

“Hey, baby.” You heard Jet say and you turned to see him leaning in your makeshift doorway, curtain draped behind him.

You went to embrace him and his hands came to rest on your waist. “Any good finds today?” You asked.

“Yeah, Longshot got a nice rabbit. Shot it right in the eye.” Jet pointed to his eye and you made a face. You hated killing animals, but their meat was good food and their fur provided material for blankets and clothes. Jet’s ever present smirk widened teasingly at your reaction. “He’s preparing it with Smellerbee. We’ll have a good breakfast tomorrow. Plus, I got you something.”

You looked at him curiously and he pulled out a glittery silver chain from the pouch hanging on his hip. Hung from it was a round, honey-orange stone with a simple lily carved into its surface, similar to the pai sho tile. “Oooh,” You cooed, taking the necklace into your hands and feeling the smooth stone. “It’s beautiful. Where’d you get this?” You contemplated the material of the stone. Was it amber? Carnelian?

Jet stiffened and said nothing. He found it hard to lie to you. Of course.

“You didn’t jump another innocent person did you?” You asked, desperate for him to say no.

His brows furrowed.

“Jet!” You scolded and he snatched the jewelry from your grasp.

“Smellerbee was right. Shouldn’t have given it to you.” He said bitterly, shouldering past you into the room.

“You can’t keep doing that to people! Did you take all their money and food again? Did you at least let them go without beating them senseless?” You prodded. Your anger boiled in your voice, remembering all the times he returned with food stolen from nomads and the other times that ended in violent confrontation.

“I don’t know why you have to get so upset! They could have been a Fire Nation spy for all you know!” Jet shot back, arms raised.

“Not everyone is a fucking Fire Nation spy, Jet!”

“Yeah, because you would totally know one if you saw one. I very clearly remember having to save your ass after getting kidnapped by a soldier!” He stepped closer, towering over you.

You, however, would not back down. “That doesn’t mean you need to beat up and rob every stranger you see! What is wrong with you?”

“I am trying to protect these kids!” Jet shouted, nostrils flaring.

You were red with anger from his lack of empathy. “At the expense of literally everyone else?” You hollered back.

Suddenly, Jet grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours. Your fingers knotted into his dark hair. It wasn’t uncommon for your arguments to end like this. It was your way of forgiving one another.

Jet pulled away, teeth pinching your bottom lip and pulling. “You’re the worst.” You groaned and Jet pushed you down to the bed.

“You’re so god damn annoying.” He responded as his lips chased yours and he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

His hands wandered down your backside, grabbing your ass and kneading the soft flesh. You hissed against his lips, hands fumbling with the closure on his pants and untucking his shirt. His tongue lined your mouth, making you shiver as you pushed the makeshift armor from his clothes. He gave your ass a hard smack and you yelped in surprise.

“Why does everything have to be a problem with you?” Jet gruffed against your lips.

“You cause problems, Jet!”

He growled into your jaw and pushed you unto your back. He pushed your knees apart so he could press himself close to you, hips digging into yours. You groaned, tugging on his hair as his lips traced your jaw. His teeth dug into your neck in a hard bite and sucked at your skin, only moving along once he saw deep purple gathering in the indents of his teeth. You squirmed when he found your soft spot, thighs rubbing uncomfortably against his sides and you rolled your hips back against his. Jet was relentless, marking up your neck and collarbones and you impatiently tugged at his shirt and whined.

Jet leaned back on his heels and discarded his shirt and wrist wrappings. You pulled your own shirt over your head and rid of the binder confining your breasts and Jet was upon you once again. He palmed your breasts and his lips trailed down your body. He tugged at your pants and you heard the button snap off.

“You need to stop fucking tearing my clothes!” You seethed.

Jet responded by silencing you with a harsh kiss. He pulled again at your pants and you pushed them down along with your underwear as far as your position would allow. Jet sat up and tore the rest of your clothes from your body and began to make work of his own. You watched him, taking in the lean muscles that rippled under his golden brown skin.

Jet grabbed you under your knees and tugged you forward before taking his erection in his hand and rubbing it across the wetness along your folds. You keened, bucking your hips for more attention and Jet smirked down at you.

“You want it, baby?” He asked, voice husky with lust.

You nodded, grasping his shoulders.

“Beg for it.” Jet commanded.

You groaned. “No.”

Jet growled, smacking your thigh. “Beg or I won’t let you cum for the rest of the month.”

You scoffed at him. “I don’t need you to do that.”

Jet grabbed your face in one hand and pressed his lips back yours in an angry kiss, teeth clashing. He rubbed the tip of his dick slowly against your clit, making your hips roll. “Beg for it.”

“Sounds more like you’re that one that’s begging.” You panted.

Jet grunted in frustration and conceded, slamming into you with one swift thrust of his hips. You mewled loudly and clawed at his shoulders. He gave you no time to catch your breath and held you down by your throat, setting a bruising pace that left your eyes rolling. You hiked your thighs high on his torso and dug your heels into his back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Jet moaned. He grabbed under your knee and pressed your thigh next to your chest, allowing him to fuck you deeper. You squirmed under his constraint, whining helplessly as that knot built in your belly. You reached down to rub your aching clit, but Jet caught your wrist. “Nah-uh, baby girl. You’re gonna have to get off on just my dick.”

You had no response, the fast pace of his hips making any words you could form catch in your throat. You clenched around him and raked your nails down his back, digging as hard as you could into his skin and eliciting a groan.

Jet suddenly pulled out and spanked you. “On your stomach, baby.”

You rolled over and Jet quickly possessed your hips, pushing back into you without hesitation. If he was brutal before, now he was just ruthless. “Oh fuck!” You cried, moaning into your pillow.

Jet gathered your wrists against your back and plowed into you. Tears brimmed at your eyes with how good he was making you feel and you pressed your hips back against his thrusts with all the strength that was left in you. You were getting close to your orgasm, that knot winding tighter and tighter as your pussy clenched hard around his cock.

You heard Jet let out a deep moan and that was all it took. You trembled, expletives leaving your mouth as Jet fucked you hard through your orgasm. “Fuck yes, baby girl, cum on my cock.” Jet praised and grabbed your ass with both hands. Your newly freed fists knotted into the sheets as you mewled at the overstimulation, thighs quaking and giving out under you.

“So good,” You cooed, Jet grabbing your shoulder to pull you back against him.

You let him continue to slam into your tender g-spot, loving every second of your drawn-out high. Jet swore and pulled out to release on your back.

You allowed yourself to go limp against the bed and Jet fell unto his back beside you. You tried to catch your breath.

Jet grabbed a scrap of cloth from the nightstand and threw it at you.

You rolled your eyes as you took it. “Don’t be fucking rude.” You grumbled, though your words had little bite.

Jet sighed. You both laid in silence for a few moments and you found your canteen and took a swig water.

Jet put out his hand. "Let me get that."

You secured the cap and answered, "No."

Jet looked at you incredulously. You stared back and he began to move toward you. You hid the canteen behind you. "Y/N!" He scolded and you giggled as he grasped at it and you held it from his reach.

"Say you'll stop jumping people for no reason." You insisted.

"Baby girl, I can't promise you anything." He swung at your hand, but you managed to keep him from grabbing it.

You frowned at him. He got a hold of your wrist and despite your protests, he took the canteen. "Dick." You pouted.

Jet took a healthy gulp of water and said, "Y'know, all we did was search him and take that pendant. We didn't hurt him."

"Still shouldn't have taken it."

Jet swung an arm around you and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. "Whatever, baby." 

[lovestrucked-again]

Delirium III | Mafia

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader Word count: 2.4k

Genre & Warning: SMUT, fingering, Explicit content, mafia gang, possessive, toxic, yandere like personality, public scenes, humiliation, multiple orgasms, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, praise, teasing, use of sex objects vagina balls and straps

Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable. A very obvious statement but this series is purely fictional, it is unacceptable in real life and should not be taken lightly.

Prev | Next

Day 2

You stand in the shower for a long time, the water spraying over your body as you try to clear your mind.

You can still feel him inside you, taste his lips against yours, feel the hardness of the egg vibrating at an intense speed and your breasts ached where he had squeezed them so roughly. You look down at your body, the pink marks still evidently left behind on your skin.

You grab the little sponge hanging off the shower handle, scrubbing your body aggressively, washing away all the thoughts and remains. You turn the hot water back on and your skin glows red, leaving harsh marks. You pull the showerhead from its position and shove it between your legs, attempting to wash away all the dried cum but your knees buckle. A dizzy wave of arousal and need slamming through your body as the water pressure splashes onto your sensitive clit. You fall against the wall, dropping the showerhead to the side in surprise.

Why do I still want him? You sit with your knees up in the corner of the shower and your mind continues to drift away, thinking about everything that had happened, the gyrating showerhead splashing water over you.

The soft knock followed by a voice pulls you out of your thoughts when you hear him through the closed bathroom door. “Baby are you okay in there?”

“I-I’m okay!” You call out in surprise, quickly getting back to your feet. While you’re busy fumbling with the water pressure, you’re unable to pick up the sound of the door creaking open. Taeyong enters quietly, quickly disrobing himself of his clothes to join you.

“Can I come in?” You let out a little squeal in surprise as he pokes his head through the shower curtain, an innocent smile on his lips. Your mouth parts slightly, glancing over his naked figure as you move to the wall opposite the shower head, your hands covering your breasts in embarrassment.

It’s an uncomfortable silence for you, your eyes avoiding his gaze only to stare at the shower curtain. Taeyong however, seems oblivious to your awkward state, absorbed in his own comfort, lightly humming to a song that's unknown to you, his hands brushing through his drenched hair.

“Why are you hiding yourself?” He asks, stepping out of the water, his eyes not leaving your face.

“I’m not I j-just” you stutter out, your hands still crossed around your chest.

“You’re beautiful you know?” He mumbles out randomly, your cheeks turning a blush red at the sudden compliment. He takes a step closer to you, your head tilting up to keep his gaze as the height difference becomes more obvious.

His hands find their way to your hips, gently resting at your sides as he leans forward, kissing your collar softly. His fingers softly wrapped around your waist in exquisite care. The longing reawakens in you as your eyes close and your legs part, ever so slightly, that even your unaware of your actions. He trails up your neck, careful not to leave any visible marks before he reaches your lips. Your arms reaching around his neck as you bring your body closer to his so you finally touch.

Taeyong’s careful not to let you dive in to your lust, drawing himself back with a soft kiss before anything continues.

“I’ll be leaving first.” He whispers against your lips.

With the soft kiss lingering on your lips, he reaches for the towel, stepping out onto the bath mat and dries himself. He pulls the shower curtain shut behind him so you’re left alone, your fingertips tracing over where he kissed. Why is he teasing me?

Finally, you switch off the water and reach for the towel, drying yourself off. The connected door to the ensuite bathroom left open, allowing you to see inside the room. Taeyong is bare apart from his boxers already pulled up. He smiles at you as you walk out the bathroom, keeping the towel wrapped tightly around your body.

“We’re going out” He tells you, throwing on a plain set of clothes before he hands you your folded shirt, bra and skirt from the night before, but no panties.

“Where are we going?” You ask, turning to face the wall as you slip them on, the towel falling to the ground.

“You’ll see.”  He waits till you’re dressed, leading you by your hand. You make no protest as he guides you to sit on the edge of the bed before he turns around, busying himself rummaging in the bedside draw.

He opens the draw, pulling out two wide, black rubber straps. He comes back to face you, lifting your skirt up so your exposed pussy is in front of his face. He seems unbothered by the fact of your arousal, the scent covering the room as he buckles them around your upper thighs. You watch him in shock, unable to process what the item is as it’s locked around you.

“There,” he moves away, playing with the fine silver chain wrapped around his neck, the key pendant falling to his chest. Your eyes wander down at the straps, noticing the row of short metal spikes facing inwards.

“What is this?” You stutter out, your hands reaching between your legs to feel the sharpness.

“These will encourage you to sit properly,”

You move your legs inwards, drawing them together before screaming. The spikes digging into the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. Taeyong lets out a soft chuckle, “if you try to sit with your legs closed, that happens.”

He reaches back into the draw, producing two large, silver metal balls that chime musically as he plays with them in his hand. He walks back over to you, crouching down at the end of the bed where you sit. He nudges your knees open a bit wider as you watch in fear, your stomach turning in a lusting excitement despite seeing the unfamiliar objects.

His hands approach your pussy, “Let’s just open you up and..” with a hard push, he shoves both balls into you.

You yelp in surprise, the sudden intrusion forcing you to close your legs tightly. However, your momentary forgotten memory leads you to cry out again, flinging your legs apart when the spikes press into your skin.

“Taeyong!” You scream out, clutching onto his arm as he’s about to move back.

“Yes baby?”

“What is this?” You whimper, keeping your legs spread apart on the bed, your skirt riding up to your waist.

“We’re going to do some training.”

“Training?”

“They’ll help you strengthen your pelvic muscles.”

“Taeyong this is uncomfortable.” You whimper, attempting to sit in a position to take the silver balls out yourself.

His voice comes out stern and there’s a low warning to it, “Y/N.” You look back up at him, his eyes turning back into the menacing glare he held before. You groan in frustration, not wanting to see his dark (moody) side come out again. He offers a hand to you, “Try standing up.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, they glide out of you, your insides unable to hold the sudden weight. The balls land on the ground with a soft thud, your muscles free of the heaviness. Taeyong leans down to pick them up, his hands getting wet with your juices from the ball.

“Hold on to it baby.” He murmurs, driving the two balls back into you. His fingers thrust up inside you, pushing the balls all the way to your hilt and you moan in pleasure. He leaves them inside and removes his fingers, a wet plop coming out your pussy.

You stand still for a minute, holding onto the weight, but as soon as you breathe, it falls.

“I can’t” you sigh out, letting them drop.

“You can.” He ensures you. He picks them up again and plunges them back into you, your pussy sucking them in, “Focus on the weight.” You clench your wall around the objects, holding them within in you with everything you can. You take a step forward, focusing on keeping the tension inside your pussy, maintaining the weight of the object. “You’ve got it baby.”

He gives you a tender kiss in appraisal, leading you slowly to the bedroom door. “I’ll take them out as soon as we eat something.”

You sigh, giving in, that won’t take long.

“Taeyong I need my undies.” You remind him, hoping the fabric will help you keep the balls from falling out.

“I don't have them.”

“What do you mean you don't have them? The ones from yesterday? I don't care if they’re dirty.” You tell him, preferring anything over nothing.

“Baby we’re going like this.” He smiles, interlocking your hand in his as he drags you out the bedroom door, taking you with no underwear.

“Wh-what if they fall out?!” You scream, your pussy involuntarily producing more liquid at the thought of someone seeing.

“Well I guess you just have to keep them in.”

*** Taeyong purposefully chooses a small café just a few streets across his apartment. Wanting to watch you walk there instead of driving anywhere. Your hand clasped in his as you keep your gaze low, embarrassed at the way your strides feel unnatural and clumsy. Your legs held apart to avoid the pain of the spikes.

Your walls clenching around the silver balls to prevent them from falling. Every step felt like torment, the balls pressing and chiming within you as you hold your gasps and whimpers as you walk. You close your eyes, trusting him to guide you in your oblivious surroundings as you concentrate on walking, one foot in front of the other. With each footfall, the pleasure of the balls hitting against your spots warring inside you, and you were terrified of losing control. In the streets of a busy afternoon full of people.

“We’re here baby.”

Your eyes fly open, the Welcome sign hanging on a glass door in front of your eyes. Taeyong opens the door, pushing it inwards, the gentle music from the café becoming distinct. He leads you to an empty booth, quite close to the entrance and you take a seat. Your quiet yelp coming back when the prick of small spikes bite into your skin, forcing you to spread your legs again.

“Good girl, stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

Taeyong disappears to order food, returning with a table number. Instead of sitting across from you, he nudges you over, scooting you closer to the wall, and he sits beside you.

“Why are you sitting ov-” Your question’s cut short as his fingers climb your skin, creeping underneath the short skirt you’re wearing. A sharp contraction forming inside you as you grit your teeth, trying to force your breathe back.

“What were you saying?” His hand climbs higher up your thigh, reaching the lips of your pussy. “You’re so wet.” He murmurs, leaning over to whisper in your ear. You grab onto his wrist underneath the table trying to guide him away.

“Taeyong not here please,” you whimper, your eyes darting around all the people. The musical chimes hitting against each other as you wriggle in your seat. Surely someone could hear them.

His hand creeps closer, his fingers parting your lip as you let go of his wrist, your legs spreading open more at the contact of his touch. You let out a muffled moan, your hand flying to your mouth in attempt to cover your voice.

“Let’s see how wet you are.” He purrs, spreading your lips apart, his finger forcing itself into you, pushing the balls around in circles, touching all your walls. Your hips grind against his fingers, using your hands to hold your weight as you lower yourself further on his fingers. Your body moves up and down as your legs part further, Taeyong focused on your expression as your eyes squeeze shut.

Taeyong plays around with the balls, moving them from side to side so they massage your insides.

“Faster.” You moan softly.

“A stir fried rice and beef?” a man’s voice says.

Your eyes quickly flicker open, taking a glimpse of the intruder in the middle of your high. The momentum of Taeyong’s fingers thrusting into you not slowing down.

“Yes.” Taeyong replies, motioning to the table with his spare hand. Taeyong slips a third finger inside your pussy and you can feel yourself pulsing, your walls contracting around his digits.

“I-I’m sorry but is everything okay.” The poor guy stutters out, directing his question to you as your body is grinding against the booth, your eyes shut, hand covering your mouth as you try and avoid anyone’s eyes.

“Perfect thank you.” Taeyong responds, his thumb reaching your clit and pressing on it with a jarring pressure.

This time you can’t help but let out a louder moan as you finally reach your orgasm, your other hand quickly slapping over your mouth in an attempt to cover it.

“Miss?”

“I said we’re fine.” Taeyong repeats, fed up with the guy whose intruding on his business.

The guy looks at your distorted face, clearly not able to figure out the situation as you ride on his fingers, climbing your high in the middle of lunch. “Please let me know if you need anything else.”

Taeyong sends him an eye roll as the server disappears behind the kitchen curtain, finally leaving you in peace.

“Baby are you trying to get caught?” Taeyong whispers against your ear, his fingers still pushing the balls inside of you. Wave after wave of raw, carnal ecstasy crashing over you as you moan into your hand. Your walls clenching hard around the objects inside you as you reach your high.

“O-Fuck!” You squeal out, forgetting about your surroundings.

People turn around towards you as you close around the objects, hard. In a flash, it peaks and disappears. People around you staring, children whispering, men smiling, women sending hostile looks as you wrap your arms tightly around yourself.

“Did that feel good, little slut?” He smirks, pulling his fingers away as your left panting on the seat, feeling like the balls inside you are swimming in a pool of liquid.

“Taeyong I want to go home.” You whimper out, your body exhausted, face flushed and your pussy drenched.

He brings his fingers to his lips, a trail of cum following on his tip, sucking them clean. “Sure baby, let’s go.” ____

A/N: Also need to proofread. Anyway please feel free to leave any feedback. 😌

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Kinktober #14 - Blood

A/N: So, after discussing prompts with @hisoknen at great length, we came to a conclusion that there wasn’t enough darkfic content for Mr. Sunshine Personified-- Mirio “Lemillion” Togata. Turn away now if you’re the slightest bit squeamish. Apparently this one has been anxiously awaited for a while...

===============================================

On the surface, everything was smiles and effortless bravado. After regaining his quirk, Lemillion was everything the public wanted to see in one of their top heroes; he was compassionate, devoted to service, and protected the weak. He went out of his way to ensure that justice was served with a million-watt smile. But that wasn’t the Mirio Togata you knew. You had lived with him for a few months in his home, though he wished you would grow to know it as your own. It tugged at his heartstrings to watch you cower away from his shadow when he’d open the door to the room you shared with him. He smiled the same warm smile he flashed the cameras and approached you casually, stripping his costume off with careless, unhurried fingers. Chains tinkled as the links rattled against one another. You scurried to the wall, crouched in on yourself as he continued to change. In the low light of his bedroom, he looked every bit the gilded god he projected himself to be. All blond hair and sky-blue eyes, he strode to meet your curled form and crooned softly as he rested a heavy hand on your head. “Hey, there. Is that any way to welcome me home?”

You whimpered in reply, words long escaped you when he was this close. It had been months since you had seen the sun, let alone interacted with anyone other than the grinning hero bearing down on you. “W-we...w-wel…” He smirked at your attempt to mimic the word. “It’s been a day.” Mirio stretched, his muscles quivering under his tanned skin enticingly. He took a knee and met your frantic gaze, heavy hand still resting atop your head. “It’s time to play!” he sang out, patting your hair like you were just another child he had rescued from the clutches of some villain. You shrunk and whimpered at the phrase, eyes immediately welling with tears as he strode to the nightstand to pull out his toys-- a familiar flash of silver glinted in the light and only added to your growing dread. It had been the same every night since he took you. Every night had been punctuated with blood and silver-- your blood. He took great care in hiding you away, making sure your connections had been tied off so none could discover his dirty little secret. “Oh, you’d think by now you’d enjoy our time together, Y/n.” He took out the first blade, a scalpel sharpened meticulously, and he held it teasingly against your skin. “I mean, you’re the first to have lasted this long.” The first cut always took you the longest to acclimate to-- the sting of the blade dragging in long, loving strokes into your tender flesh coming long after the cut had been made. Mirio sighed audibly at the sight of first blood beading up along the trail left by his tool. By virtue of your quirk the skin mended itself slowly, leaving behind a stream of claret in its wake. You hissed at the sensation of your body knitting itself back together only to be met with another slash at your chest. Skin split, you dared to look down only to be met with the sight of muscle fiber and more red shining back at you. Mirio added a thick finger to the cut and dug around, marvelling at the sensation of slick muscle under the calloused pad. With a loud gasp, you choked out a cry that drew his attention from the red oozing around his fingers. Your skin fought to mend itself around his busy fingers, only to be beaten back by your captor savagely ripping the newly puckered skin open with a finger curl. Your screams were exquisite, every note colored with both fear and anguish as he continued to explore the trail of vessels and arteries running along your exposed meat and tendon. Pulling back his hand, he inhaled the iron and copper scent of your blood as if he were appreciating a rare vintage wine. Dragging his tongue along his bloodstained palm, he moaned low and painted his chin in your colors. His eyes were chips of ice in a sea of gold, sharp enough he could cut you with his gaze alone. Your back thudded against the drywall, a rabbit caught in a snare you knew what would come next. His cock twitched to life against his bare, muscular thighs and dread set back in. Your exhausted body writhed futility against your chains and the cold wall at your back as he closed in, the surgical steel blade shimmering in red and silver. 

It came down quickly. The sudden slash across the tender meat of your neck left you soundless, barely breathless before the spurt of your scent drew him to his work. Your body slunk to the floor, your blood pooling around his feet as he knelt down and watched the life start to leave your eyes hungrily. “You’re so beautiful like this…” he whispered, awed at the red staining your paling skin. Your hand held feebly against the gushing injury, doing little to slow the flow. He made another series of more superficial cuts along your neck and shoulder, all the while minding the depth and rate of your breathing. Your vision was beginning to fade. Tendrils of black invaded and threatened to overtake you. Your body heaved with every struggling breath you took, oxygen failing to meet your ever growing demand as your blood continued to run freely down your arm and onto the floor at your captor’s feet. He dropped to his knees and lowed his head to drag his tongue along the puddle, pulling up with a groan you could only describe as ecstatic. Consciousness was leaving, and the slash was mending under your hand, but the damage was already done. With a third of your blood volume wasted on the floor, coherence was a luxury ripped away with eager hands.

Senses dulled, your scalp burned with the sudden pull to your knees. Your torso was sticky in trails of drying scarlet, a sight that stirred more desire in Mirio. His cock bobbed proudly against his chiseled abs; he drank in your dazed whines and parted your lips with the head of his throbbing girth. “Say aaah,” he grinned, tongue lapping at the remnants of your life drying on his lips. His grip on your hair tight, he pulled you onto his length until tears pricked your eyes and he could see the noticeable bulge of his cock in your throat. Your gag was weak, and your reserves were few when he brought another swift flick of his tool along your cheek. He flayed your skin from your cheekbone to marvel at the tendons holding your face together and shivered at the moist tightness of your esophagus contracting around him. Your quirk was working slower, the healing taking minutes what once took seconds. The sight of his cock peeking between tight cords of sinew and slick muscle made him swoon. It wouldn’t take long for him to hold you until consciousness faded from your eyes and he came into your stomach with a howl. When you came to he was already rutting into your abused hole with abandon. Your body tensed instinctively at the intrusion, but you felt his fingers rummaging through the new gashes he had made just below your ribcage. The sensation of his fingers digging into your wounds left you moaning. His conditioning brought you to the brink of delirium. Pain washed with pleasure, an ocean of suffering meeting an estuary of ecstasy and you were caught in the middle riding each wave with a shriek. “Oh, you’re finally awake. Hope you don’t mind. Of course you don’t mind! Look how tightly you’re squeezing my cock when I do this!” He wiggled his fingers against what you were certain was your liver and your heart rolled over in your chest. Your cunt clenched around him tight enough that you thought you would split in half from the force alone. Legs trembling, you came at the feeling of his head bruising into your cervix and him scissoring your wounds open with curious fingers. Panting, you groped around despite your shackles for something to ground yourself with. In your shuffling, a thought occurred to Mirio. It was one thing to feel your blood rushing around his fingers and under his touch...he wondered…

You came down slowly, still floating in that in-between when you felt cold sink into your bones. Your body convulsed against the permeation hero at the new sensation. He’d never used his quirk on you before, and the sensation filled you with equal parts dread and revulsion. He held you firmly, his fingers like meat hooks into your ribcage as he rooted around through your back until he found  what he was looking for. Your heart thrummed in your chest like a trapped bird in a mine against his fingertips. Breath left you in a sharp exhale as he materialized his hand around your heart and gave it an experimental squeeze. He could live off your screams alone feeling your heart chambers fill and contract with blood in his hand. With nowhere to run to without facing that indescribable pain ripping through your being, you dug your nails into the floor. More pain burned through your nerve endings, reminding you that you were ever present despite the fog of your continued blood loss. Pain kept your mind with him, kept you close. It was as if he had planned it from the start, knowing how he could draw out the most broken parts of you and leave you bare for him to exploit. Your walls clenched tighter with every gentle squeeze and caress of his hand as he salivated at the sensation of your aorta pulsating with every strangled beat. “I could end you, y’know...just one squeeze and your life ends in blissful agony…” he whispered lovingly into your ear. It was almost intimate, the way he held you and your life in his hands. You were cradled against his solid muscles as he draped himself over your back, hips still idly pistoning into your aching heat. Your heart beat tirelessly in his hand; in that moment he felt himself fall even deeper for your broken being. Rapt in your exquisite suffering, he clenched his fist tighter around the pumping chambers and buried himself deeper into your gaping hole, emptying himself into your waiting womb with a joyous groan. 

Your breathing stopped with that final squeeze, cueing him to release and rhythmically massage your exhausted muscle back into being. Your body shuddered; your lungs burned with the promise of more pain in the hours to come. Part of you missed the loss of your captor, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had you doubled over for him to wring dry; after all, it was your job to help your hero unwind. Maybe you could learn to love him in spite of the monster bleeding you to unconsciousness to explore your body uninhibited. After all, he has your life in his hands...

[yandere-daydreams]

Written for the lovely @lesbiansportsanime.

Pairing: Yandere!Momo/OC

Word Count: 2.5k

Synopsis: Momo’s always strived for perfection. The perfect career, the perfect relationship, and now that Ren’s starting to fall into her role, the perfect family.

TW: Non-Con, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Mentions of Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Bondage, Possessive Mindsets, and Mentions of Pregnacy.

“A baby for my baby,” She’d said.

It seemed to be Momo’s favorite phrase, lately. It’d been a joke, at first, something muttered under her breath as she watched Ren dote over a potted heather that’d been brought home the day before. Ren tried to take it as one, too, laughing along as she asked if she really seemed like the nurturing type. Ren wasn’t. She’d never been around a child long enough to bond with one, and she had no intention of changing that. She’d assumed Momo knew that. Momo should’ve known that, and when she failed to push the topic for the rest of the afternoon, Ren told herself it’d just been a slip of the tongue.

“A baby for my baby,” She’d repeated, the next day, the phrase muffled by the sound of her newest tea being poured into a waiting cup. This time, Ren pretended not to notice, taking a long drink from her own glass while she tried to ignore the scalding temperature, the way just a sip left her tongue burnt and the roof of her mouth unpleasantly numb. “I think it’d be nice,” Momo’d offered, this time, a partial explanation, but far from a fulfilling one. “It’s not like I don’t have the resources, and you’re not in a position to complain about the strain.”

Arguing with Momo never went well, so Ren hadn’t argued. Instead, she’d nodded, looked away, and tried to change the topic quickly.

“You’d look beautiful,” She’d whispered, a week later, warm breath ghosting over Ren’s exposed neck. Momo’s bedroom - their room, rather, Ren had to keep reminding herself of that - was silent, otherwise. She must’ve thought Ren was already asleep, but if she cared when the form pressed into her chest stiffened and clenched its eyes shut, Ren hadn’t been able to tell. “Even more beautiful than you already are. I’ll take care of you, I’ll make sure everything is perfect, and you’re going to give me a beautiful family.” There was a pause, a wistful sigh. Momo’s arm dropped to her waist, pulling her closer, making sure Ren wouldn’t be able to squirm away, when she woke up. Making sure she wouldn’t be able to run, if she tried to. “A baby for my baby. A baby for my baby and for me.”

In the moment, Ren hadn’t responded. She still wasn’t sure how she should’ve, how she could’ve with Momo holding her so tight, with her old restraints and shackles still coiled into a neat pile next to the nearest bedpost. In the moment, she could tell herself silence was easier, that submission was less of a risk than objection. Silence was easier most of the time, with Momo. Silence had always been easier, when it came to Ren’s long list of captors. Momo was better than some, better than him, but she was just that - the better alternative.

Somehow, Ren managed to forget that, even if she had the preferable captor, having one at all still made her a captive.

~

Ren couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her old bedroom.

She’d never liked the space, despite the effort Momo put into decorating it. It felt confining, too small and too crowded and too nostalgic of all the wrong memories. After that first month, when Momo’d begun to trust her and Ren found that sleeping in her kidnapper’s arms was more comfortable than sleeping on the floor of her greenhouse, she hadn’t seen the point in visiting a room she’d never liked, a room that proved she was supposed to fight back against the relationship she’d grown begrudgingly accustomed to. She hadn’t been sure what it meant, when Momo took her by the hand, kissed her forehead, and guided Ren back to that bedroom, to her bedroom. She hadn’t been sure whether or not she was supposed to struggle.

By the time Momo pulled out a pair of polished, silver handcuffs, she’d gotten her answer.

“I don’t think--” The words fell into a gasp, then Ren went silent entirely. There was a sharp pinch to the side of her neck, a needle-like point piecing her jugular, lingering for a moment, then withdrawing with just as much warning as she was given when it first pushed in. There should’ve been pain, nothing unbearable, but an expected soreness, a noticeable pressure, something rather than the strange, alien nothingness that flooded into her veins, instead. The ceiling blurred above her, turning into vague spots of smudged white and beige, and when Momo clicked her tongue, the sound seemed to echo in Ren’s skull, rattling until it turned into something deafening. A sedative, maybe, but she didn’t want to sleep. A downer, but one that wasn’t kind enough to leave her unconscious.

“It’s not…” She tried, again, but her tongue was starting to feel heavy. Like a weighted ball of cotton resting against the inside of her cheeks. “Is it supposed to… Should it be working?”

There was a giggle from the edge of the bed, then the other side of the room. Like a bell being rung by the wind. Like nails being dragged against expensive porcelain. “Of course, princess.” Momo’s voice wasn’t any better, making Ren shrink into herself involuntarily. It was a pointless effort, though, only making her chain rattle against the wooden headboard it was strung through, another sound she was sure shouldn’t have been as awful as her mind made it out to be. “Sounds like it already is, too,” She went on, the sentiment punctuated with a small sigh, then the creak of a door on rarely-used hinges. “Just bear with me, for a little while. I’ll make sure Todoroki doesn’t get too rough.”

Todoroki. Momo didn’t like it when she mentioned Todoroki. Momo said there was only one reason she’d ever invite someone like Todoroki over, and that was to…

Huh.

She really, really should’ve fought back.

She tried to make up for it now, attempting to kick and thrash and struggle as Shoto stepped into her room, but her limbs left like lead and her senses were constantly switching between stifled and hyperactive and all she managed to do was clench her thighs together and let her head fall to the side, the effort nothing short of futile. If Shoto had any reservations about the situation, he didn’t move to express them, exchanging less than a handful of words with Momo before Ren felt the mattress dip, a cold hand wrapping around her ankle before her leg could do so much as twitch.

It was like her brain chose that moment to short-circuit. It was like the world around her went dull, just for a second, and everything stopped. There was a low ringing in Ren’s ears, a red and white splotch in the center of her vision, and suddenly, she could see her leg thrown over Shoto’s shoulder, her tank-top pooled above her chest, and Momo at her side, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Ren wondered if she should be smiling, too. She might’ve tried, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t know if she could be sure of anything, right now.

Ren tried to sit up, but Momo caught her shoulder, pushing her back flat against the mattress. “It’s alright,” She soothed, and instantly, Ren wished she'd said something else. Ren wished she hadn’t said anything. It was supposed to be comforting, but it came out polite, patronizing. Like she was telling a child that a papercut wouldn’t be fatal. “Todoroki’s just going to help me out. That’s nice of him, isn’t it?” It was a question, it should’ve been a question, but whatever time she gave Ren to answer was filled with Momo’s smile, the loudness of it. Of all things, that was the most deafening, the most unbearable. Ren wanted to cover her ears. If she’d been able to, she might’ve. “I thought about asking Bakugo, but you’ve never liked him. His quirk, too, it’s so specific. I’d never shake off the rumors. And if, god forbid, it mixes with yours...”

There was a slight pause, an exasperated sigh. Ren felt fabric shift over her skin, and a second later, she realized it was her shorts, hanging off her ankle before falling to the mattress. Her panties were only pushed to the side, Shoto’s touch careful, but his pace unhurried. She wondered how much Momo told him. Ren thought they were friends, but she could’ve been wrong. She thought Momo cared about her, but she could’ve been wrong about that, too.

“Fire and ice are more general, and there’s less of a risk. I can tell everyone we adopted, it’ll be so cute. Right, Todoroki?” There was a grumble by way of response - something that might’ve been a word, but Ren couldn’t seem to interpret it into anything meaningful. “I don’t think I have a preference, but I hope they’re blonde,” Momo went on, bringing a hand up to card her fingers through Ren’s hair, blunt nails scraping over her scalp. “Grey eyes, golden hair, Mina would absolutely fawn over that. We’ll have to talk about names, too, and I’ll find a good doctor. Only the best for my baby.”

Ren moved to ask what she was talking about, but she’d barely opened her mouth before a cracked, trembling moan crawled out from the back of her throat, replacing anything she might’ve said with a noise that fell between a whine and a scream. The pressure was sudden, all knots pulled tight and ropes drawn taut at the center of her core, not painful, but bordering on it, dancing along the edge of agonizing. It was a stretch she was familiar with, but she couldn’t seem to get used to it. She couldn’t seem to, not as Shoto locked his jaw into place and slotted his hips against hers, and certainly not as Momo leaned over her, pushing a soft kiss into her forehead while Ren tried her best not to sob. “Feels-- feels bad,” She managed, as Shoto began to thrust in earnest. “I don’t like it, I don’t want it, it’s not--”

“It’ll get better,” Momo promised, the words muffled by Ren’s skin. She pushed herself up, taking to the idea of cupping Ren’s face, instead. It felt more foreign than it should’ve, for such an affectionate gesture. She tried to lean away as the pad of Momo’s thumb ran over her cheek, but it was all she could do to force herself to frown. Even that came out as more of a pout than anything, bringing out a note of empathy as Momo began to hum. “You won’t feel it at all, if you relax, and I swear, you won’t remember this in the morning. You know I’m not that mean.”

But she couldn’t relax. She couldn’t, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to, not as the air was forced from her lungs and her whole body went hot, then cold, then a terrible, terrible combination of clammy and frigid and searing. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like much of anything, but it couldn’t feel good, not when she had to work so hard just to be aware it was happening. She almost wished that Momo hadn’t bothered with it, the drug, the sedative, whatever. If she’d been less creative, if she’d just forced a gag into Ren’s mouth and been a little more thorough with her restraints, it wouldn’t feel so strange. If she’d been able to think clearly, she might’ve been able to decide that she hated Momo, now. That she’d never forgive Momo. That she’d strike out every thought she’d ever had about an easy life and a hopeful future and a real relationship and replace them with vows to herself that she’d never let anything like this happen again. Not to her. Not to Ren. Not by Momo’s hand.

But, as she was, she couldn’t think of much of anything.

She just knew she was in pain, and she knew she wanted it to stop.

It was a pitiful effort, really. A whimper smothered under the sound of skin against skin, a jerk of her restraints, a curl of her fists that left her nails digging into her palms until thin skin tore and left something warm and soothing dripping down her wrists. Speaking would’ve been impossible, she couldn’t fathom the idea of opening her mouth, let alone spitting anything out, but Momo’d always had a way of knowing just how to keep her prisoner complacent. There was a contemplative glance over her shoulder, a brief evaluation of Shoto’s concentration, but in a second, her grin was softening, her eyes taking on that half-lidded, dreamy look Ren almost thought she could love, some days.

She shut her eyes as a key formed in Momo’s palm, small and silver and so simple, Ren could’ve sobbed. She kept them closed as Momo leaned over her, as the handcuffs fell away, and she didn’t dare to move as a light, chaste kiss was pushed into her forehead. She didn’t try to move, but she melted as Momo’s arms wrapped around her, fingers tangling themselves in her hair as Ren leaned into her palm, her arms soon wrapped around Momo’s neck, keeping her close before Momo could even threaten to pull away. She didn’t try to, though. She didn’t seem to want to. Momo was happy to hold her, to comb through Ren’s hair and coo so sweetly, Ren could almost believe the fondness in her voice was genuine. She wanted to. She really, really wanted to. She tried to, but she couldn’t be sure whether or not it worked, not as Momo pulled her closer, her heartbeat replacing every coherent thought Ren was capable of.

Her voice wasn’t any better. Smooth and flawless, but too flawless. Too seamless. Like a tea that went down so easily, there had to be something mixed into it. “See, princess? I’d never do anything to hurt you.” It was a hollow mantra, something Ren had heard a thousand times over. Momo wouldn’t hurt her. Momo just wanted to protect her. They’d be happy together, they’d be perfect together - all Ren had to do was sit back and let Momo do whatever she had to, whatever she wanted to. 

“You’re going to make me so happy, do you know that? We’re gonna have such a perfect family, and you’re going to be the perfect mother.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of her parted lips. Ren wished there’d been more, but at the same time, she was thankful for the scarcity. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to take anything else. “I’ll take care of you, just like I promised to.”

Ren shook her head. It was a slow, jerky refusal, but it was a refusal - she knew she didn’t want to be cared for. Momo didn’t seem to notice, though. If her smile was anything to go off of, she hadn’t even tried to look. “It’ll be perfect,” She assured, the thought punctuated with a quiet, giddy laugh. 

“A baby for my baby.”

[choco-mark]

A Marriage of Inconvenience (4)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: language, mentions of violence + death, oppression of women, murder/homicide, mentions of drugs + drug use + drugging someone else, mentions of severe injuries

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 4.1k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

19 April

Jeno’s eyes trailed his older brother’s body, watching him walk in front of him while clenching his teeth, trying to get out of the grasps of his men. Taeyong had just barged into the van without a second word, his men killing each and every other soldier waiting to be dismissed except his two brothers, who were now being manhandled inside. “Don’t fight it,” he cooed, not looking back at Jeno as he glanced over to Mark, who was just as equally trying to get away. “I don’t want to kill you, you know. You are my brothers after all.”

“So then why are you abducting us?” Mark asked in an incredulous voice, the hallway coming to an end as Taeyong reached out the door in front of him, looking back at Jeno and then Mark. “Huh? Father was right, you’re insane!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He hissed back, closing in on Mark as his eyes scanned his face, lip tucking under his upper teeth as he tilted his head. “You don’t get it, Markie boy, you and your measly little baby brother here would never get it. Father had me start the second generation of NCT, I’m sure that you’ve figured it out by now, hmm? That’s how you’re here in the first place, you were clearly smart enough to track sweet Y/N’s messages, hmm? I knew you’d be able to do it,” he clicked his tongue, turning back around to give the door a bit of a tap.

“At least you’ll get to see your girl now, right baby Jeno?” Taeyong’s hand enclosed over the handle, giving it a harsh twist as he swung the door open, the red room with matching couches coming into view. His jaw dropped from the empty sight, only discarded roles littering the floor. “What the...”

“I can’t believe you fucking escaped,” Haechan snarled again, locking the handcuff around your wrist and then fastening the matching one to his own. “You were supposed to listen, sweetheart. It would have been much easier if you did so.” He raised his head, looking at your brother with hooded eyes. “I should’ve expected more from you too, you’re a Park after all.”

Your eyes, however, were fastened on the perfectly brandished knife that was tucked into the belt of the gorgeous man; just a single step backward and it could be in your hand, easily available to stab him with a sharp blow to the stomach. But it could only work if you were able to do it as quickly as possible, and in the condition you were in currently, you couldn’t trust yourself to move as fast. 

The moment that he stuck his hand into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out yet another deadly syringe, your twisted his other arm back as you stepped behind him, yanking the blade from his belt and holding it to his throat. However, Haechan was faster, his leg pulling Jisung towards him, the tip of the needle threatening to push into his skin at any moment. He let out a breathless chuckle, his head tilting upwards as you didn’t make a move. “Put the knife down and I won’t inject him.”

You hesitated, your eyes now on Jisung, who’s face looked absolutely mortified as he struggled to get out Haechan’s grip around his body, the chains around his wrists clashing together as he felt the needle pierce his skin in the slightest. There was a momentary wince from him, enough to let you pull down your hand, dropping the knife to the floor with a loud clang.

“Good girl.” He pulled at his arm, forcing you to stand beside him once again, the leg around your brother falling as he pulled away from him. Haechan glanced over at you, your eyes already drooping from the effects of the drug beforehand, making him break out into a nasty smile. “Oh darling, you’re so tired already?”

His right hand inched closer to your cuffed wrist, his own hand outstretching your arm as you noticed the familiar movements, your head shaking on its own accord as you tried to pull away. But he was stronger, keeping you in place as the needle pierced into your vein, injecting the substance into your body in one slow shot. “It’s either you or him, baby.” You heard his voice floating around in your mind as you drifted off, the effects of the drug being different than before. Wait, but why do I feel so... 

“You’re so brave for your family, Park Y/N.”

“Yeah, I got her,” Haechan’s voice was a low growl through the phone, calming Taeyong’s nerves as he continued to pace around the room, his eyes momentarily glancing to Jeno and Mark, who were now tied to the couches, their postures completely straight as they fought against the material. “Brother Park here got out of the rope and untied her too, apparently. He’s cuffed now.”

“Good,” he sighed into the speaker, a hand moving up to run through his dyed hair. “Bring them back to the red room. You gave them both a—” his sharp eyes focused on his youngest brother, who was currently giving him a look of death. “—dose, right?”

“We ran out. I knocked out Y/N, though, girl put up a bit of a fight when I threatened to touch the boy: tried to slit my throat.” There was a short, unamused chuckle from his end. “Open the door, the one on the right. She’s out cold, I’m gonna put her on the bed.” The call ended with that, the sound ringing through Taeyong’s ears as he sighed, waving away the rest of the men in the room. 

There was a bed in the room, a king-sized bed in front the couch that his brothers were currently tied to; the sheets were made of an expensive silk, hopefully, he thought, expensive enough for your liking. It was a perfect deep red, basically waiting to cover your soft body as he had gotten that bed with the thought of you in his mind. Your sharp figures, the poise of your body, almost everything being concealed by the colors of the bed, soothing him deep inside as he moved towards to door, swinging it open.

Haechan pushed in Jisung by the neck, nearly making him fall to his knees in front of Taeyong before he caught himself, stumbling forward instead. His huge eyes fixed on the man, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion before the straightened out again as Taeyong grabbed the tall boy by the collar, forcing him towards the other couch. “I wouldn’t have lured you over if I knew you would pull your precious sister away,” he said, quietly enough for him to hear as he pulled out more rope from under the couch, wrapping him down immediately. “You Parks are so fucking disobedient.”

Jeno had a clue who the pink-haired teenager was, assuming from the way he looked completely terrified as he laid his eyes on him. His eyes fluttered over to Haechan, who was walking over to the rest of them with you thrown over his shoulder, an arm secured over your thighs as he realized who that was. “You...”

He snapped his head over to Jeno at the whispered sound coming from his throat, raspy as he realized who it was; his ego soared, knowing that he had his brother’s fiancee fastened over his shoulder with you having no actual control over yourself as he smirked at the older boy. “Fancy seeing you here, brother. Taeyong said you would come; I didn’t believe it. Oh Mark, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

His face was twisted as he walked over to the bed, carefully laying your body against the soft mattress. Jeno and Mark watched him intently, Jeno’s fists curling involuntarily when he saw the silver-haired man’s hand brush away a few strands of hair from your face, the touch making you stir softly. Haechan cooed at the sight of you, sighing as he wished to press his lips against yours once again, but there was a hiss from the other side, making him look up. “Hands off,” Taeyong chirped, taking a seat next to Jisung with his head still facing backwards, scowling in annoyance. “I already told you, Haechan. She’s mine.”

He rolled his eyes, stepping back but ignoring his older brother’s word as he focused on Jeno, who was watching him as if he was about to pounce at any moment. “You got yourself a pretty Park and you took it for granted,” he ran a hand through his hair, giving your unconscious body one last look as he made his way over to the couches. “You’re so spoiled, Jeno, you don’t even know her value. And Father gave her to you, out of all of us. So fucking spoiled.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” He shot back, even though he knew that Haechan was right. He had treated you like you were a piece of shit the entire time that you had been at their house, but it didn’t occur to him that not one, but two of his siblings were also pining after you. “What the hell did you do to her?!”

“And what do you mean she’s yours?” Jeno whipped his hair over to Taeyong, who was watching him in mock amusement as he raised an eyebrow. “What bullshit are you pulling, Taeyong? Abducting her from a mission that you were supposed to be at, both you and Donghyuck were supposed to be at, and using this place as what, your safe haven for some new mafia society? You do realize how fucking insane that sounds right?”

“No, Jeno, you don’t get it,” Taeyong deadpanned, glancing over at your brother, who was currently listening to the whole conversation in horror. Never did he think that your father giving away your hand to a Lee would lead to this, especially not including him, in the least. And now he was hearing that this was supposed to be some gang that he never heard about? “It’s not insane. You know why?”

“Because Park Y/N was supposed to be mine, right from the very beginning. Father set her up with you instead, because of what, some measly age difference? And brother, I already knew how you would treat her, just like you treat anyone that isn’t a Lee.” He sighed, leaning back against the soft cushions as he slapped a palm to Jisung’s thigh, startling the poor boy. “I wanted her to be the start of NCT 127. I wanted her to be my wife, a queen that would rule the way I wanted her to. But Father didn’t like that. She’s at the top of all of NCT, marked as one of the most graceful fighters, professional and beautiful. I’ve seen videos of her work before; her perfect slitting of a member of NCT Kim for trying to side-step her, that’s when I knew she had to be a part of the new generation. She’s perfect, Jeno, that’s what you don’t see. She’s better than you, than me, better than everyone else here.”

Taeyong leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he spread out his legs, cocking his head to the side. “That’s why Father sent you here, to get his precious treasure back before I’ve married her into the new clan. Isn’t that right? You aren’t here for your fiancee, or I should say, your ex-fiancee.” He opened his palm, the diamond ring that was fastened around your neck in a chain falling from a latch to his fingers, the jewelry dangling in front of Jeno and Mark’s faces. “It didn’t occur to me that this was the proposal ring until I saw it around her neck; she doesn’t wear necklaces, isn’t that right, Park?” He looked back at Jisung, whose eyes widened as he nodded slowly. “It’s pathetic, a fake ring around her neck. You couldn’t even put it around her finger like a man?!”

“It’s expensive,” Mark muttered under his breath, watching with pained eyes as he dropped it to the floor, a few sharp clangs ringing the room. Damn, I should’ve bought gold if I knew this was gonna happen. “Really expensive.” 

A slow jolt went through your body, the last few loud words bringing you out of your hazed slumber. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, closing almost immediately as you took a strangled breath, the voice of Taeyong’s rant moving on as you tried to raise yourself from the bed, but failed. You felt so weak, so much more weak than before as you sat up in the slightest, taking account of what was happening front of you. Mark’s eyes focused to your stirring body first, stifling a gasp as he realized that you were awake, his anxiety of never leaving the red room slowly dissipating as he quickly glanced away, trying not to make it too obvious. Your eyes met his however, and they widened at the sight of him, and you blinked a few times: was that really him?  

You recognized Haechan’s figure leaning against the opposite couch, his back facing you as you sat up completely, your posture catching Jeno’s attention as well. He didn’t give you a look, however, only acknowledging you for a moment as he quietly hoped that you would find a way to get them out of there. He was tied up, and so was Mark. The only one who was no longer chained was you, but you were already fazed from before, your mind being unable to process on anything that was going on.

Jisung. Jisung. Where’s Jisung? Your question was answered in an instant as you saw the dyed hair next to Taeyong, almost still as a statue as you realized that he couldn’t see you. He’s not hurt, right? He didn’t drug him, he injected me. I got it. I got the dose. Your thoughts were trying to convince yourself, making you shake your head as you tried to get back in focus. Mark and—Lee are tied to the couch though, probably Taeyong’s doing, I’m guessing. He really likes ropes, it looks like.

“ —She’ll love me eventually,” Taeyong’s voice finally found its way back into your brain as you swung your legs off the bed, grabbing a discarding knife on the bedside table at you tried not to make a noise, your footsteps being silent as you tried to listen to his words. You had already figured it out before, that Taeyong was the one who had requested for you to be sent over to the Lee household, that he was the one that wanted you to himself even though you were engaged to his brother. It sounded delusional. “That’s not the case, I don’t need her to love me yet. I have her now, and I’ll make her mine. One way or another. It’s just you that’s the problem.”

Your fingers wrapped around the hilt, the familiar feel coursing through your veins as you found a little control. Closing your eyes, you aimed the knife at the long torso of Haechan, leaning forward to throw it but hesitating. You weren’t sure if the man was even truly a follower in whatever Taeyong’s plans were, but from the way he had looked at you in sympathy when you had begged him not to drug Jisung, it didn’t seem like he wanted to.

Mark caught your eye, nodding over towards Taeyong almost immediately as he saw you perched to aim at the other brother’s back. You took note of it, watching as everyone was still focusing on his preaching words of his new gang, his new generation, with you as his newly wed queen. At the sound of that, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet hiss, which didn’t go unknown to Haechan as you let the blade go soaring as your eyes blackened out for a brief moment.

But you never missed, that was something that everyone knew, and the blade had now lodged into Taeyong’s right shoulder blade, making him fall forward as he groaned loudly. Haechan moved towards you, his arms outstretched as he realized your shaky movements, but you bent down, swinging your leg fast enough to sweep him off his feet, making him collapse to the ground in an instant. As fast as you could move, you ran over to where Taeyong was reaching for the blade in his back, but you were there first, pulling it out of him immediately. “H-Haechan, call for—backup.”

“You won’t need it,” you pulled him to the ground, tracing the knife through his shirt, seeing the trail of blood it left as you stuffed it into your belt, your fist giving him a hard few blows to the abdomen. You glanced over at Jeno, watching as he continued struggling against the ropes and handing him the blade instead, quickly focusing back on Taeyong. “How do you want to die? I can strangle you? Use the knife? Maybe the ropes—”

There was a hand in your hair, yanking you back painfully as you felt Haechan’s hand tangle further into your locks as you let out a squeal of surprise, your back pressing flush against his chest, his heavy breathing being evident in your ear as an arm fastened around your waist. “I treated you so well,” he whispered as your hand grasped his wrist, trying to yank it away from your head. “Is this how you repay me?” You were about to knee him when there was a huge force from your side, knocking the both of you towards Jeno and Mark as Haechan groaned, his grip loosening around you as you looked over at Jisung, who was now standing proudly, his foot having been used for a good work.   

You noticed how Jeno was struggling to get out from the rope, and you moved forward quickly, grabbing Haechan and slamming him to the ground with all the force you had in your body. Snatching the knife, you cut through both Mark and Jeno’s ropes, setting their torsos free. There was a hand around your ankle as you leaned down to work at the ropes against Mark’s feet, making you fall down to the ground. “Stupid girl,” Taeyong muttered, dragging you closer to him as you grabbed at Jeno’s feet, slicing the rope in one motion to let him free. “Is that how you treat your fiancee?”

Jeno felt his blood boil at the words, his body taking over him as he stepped down on Taeyong’s arm harshly, clearly making a break to bone as he let go of his hold on you. Standing over him, he hoisted him up and against the couch, punching him painfully in the face a few times. “She’s not your fiancee,” he snarled, watching his knuckles grew with blood. “She’s mine.” 

As you set Mark free, you watched as Haechan finally recovered from the shock, his consciousness coming back to him as you stood over him, watching the pretty man intently. Jisung was in front of him, his feet by his head as you gestured for him to come over to you, and he came immediately, standing beside Mark. 

There was a burst of the door from the left side, a swarm of Taeyong’s men flooding into the room as Mark cursed under his breath, making you unaware for a moment as Haechan grabbed at your arm, making you fall down onto him. You pulled yourself up quickly, however, yet his strong leg kept you fastened to him, making you squirm. “You can’t get away now,” he chuckled softly, blood oozing from the corner of his lip. “You’ve lost, darling, just admit it.”

You stopped your movements for a brief second, the sound of his words ringing through you as you pushed yourself off of him, giving him a sharp, probably stinging slap to the face. “I don’t think you get it,” you kept your knees down on his arms, digging deep into his muscle as you felt like mocking him the way he had been doing to you this entire time. “I don’t lose.”

As the men started coming towards them, Jeno manhandled Taeyong to face away from him, pulling out the two glocks that he had stolen from the two of them, turning back to throw one at Mark. He also got his hands on a set of keys, realizing that they matched the colors of your brother’s cuffs, and he threw them his way, his eyes not moving to match his. Jisung caught them however, and Mark helped him out of them, giving him a stern yet soft look.

“You drugged me,” you continued, still looking down at Haechan, who was looking up at you with a twisted look, one that spoke a firm ‘i’m proud of it.’ “You drugged my brother, I shouldn’t let you go. I should kill you. Right now. Right here, right where you did it.” Your hands were already fastening around his neck as you heard Jeno and Mark shoot at the men, each of them falling instantly with a fatal hit. “I should—kill you.”

But the world seemed to go by you in a blur as Haechan’s expression never changed, the beautiful dusted look that would have enchanted anyone in a second brushing over you as you couldn’t bring yourself to actually close your fingers over his throat: to take his life away from him as quickly as he got it. “But you can’t, sweetheart. You won’t be able to kill me, because deep down, you know that you don’t have it in you.”

The words stung at you, engraving inside of your brain so deeply as you were hastily pulled off of him by Mark, who was urging you to leave with them. Your mind was still out of it, unable to focus on his face as he shook you by the shoulders, yelling something: let’s go? We have to leave? You weren’t sure, but he pushed you forward, making you move towards the door in a stumble.

Jeno was right behind you, Jisung by your side as you walked without control, not being able to understand the world around you. You felt hot, suffocated too: was it the summer? The heat was too much, maybe you should open a window. You shook your head violently, the red walls shaking in your vision. It’s not hot enough to open the window, turn on the fan instead. 

“Lee Jeno!” You turned around at the shout of the broken voice, your name being called straight after as your mind spinned, the dizziness not registering anything except for an injured Taeyong sitting up with a gun pointed straight at you, right for your heart. But, you thought, your head tilting shortly, I thought he wanted to marry me. And maybe he did, maybe he wanted to marry you if you had agreed with him, but the bullet had already been shot, making you brace for impact.

But it never hit, a gasp coming from another as you forced your eyes open, your eyes falling on the tall figure in front of you, which fell to the ground in a short second. It felt like it happened in slow motion to you, from the way you noticed it was Jisung, your mind trying to process everything at once as you let out a silent scream, seeing the blood pooling out from your brother’s chest. Except it wasn’t silent, it was deadly, and you fell down beside him, kneeling to his face as you panicked, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of him. 

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. It was the only thing on your mind as you touched his body, his face, pulling him towards you as much as you could before there were hands on your shoulders, trying to move you away. Jeno, perhaps, but you didn’t care, your body shaking him away as you saw your tears ruining Jisung’s bloodstained T-shirt, the emotions becoming too much for you to realize as you continued blabbing out something, anything. He needs help, he’s hurt. He’s bleeding, he got shot. He’s hurt, Jisung’s hurt. Please help him.

Your mind went blank, your vision going dark, your body collapsing in an instance to the shock; and yet so much changed, a family torn apart by a single shot. Oh, isn’t it so sad?

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oh my god guys!!! it’s out finally after like..two weeks? a week? i’m sorry i made y’all wait for so long but this took..oh my god, a long time!! what’d you guys think??