#this is your brain on the dark side of the force etc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

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The Supreme Empress

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.

Word Count: 11k+ 🧍‍♀️💀

Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.

This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.

And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.

It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.

The Sith Lord.

Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.

The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.

I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.

I close my eyes and await his judgement.

I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.

"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.

My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.

I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.

I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"

"My empress-"

My stomach rolls.

"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."

A shiver runs down my spine.

No, this can't be real.

My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.

It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."

"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."

I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.

I was his b--

My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.

I feel my eyes begin to water.

Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.

"Is everything prepared?"

"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.

"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."

I was--

I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.

I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.

I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.

It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"

My breath hitches, "let her go!"

His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."

I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"

He does nothing.

"LET. HER. GO!"

He seems to be debating my words.

I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"

I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.

A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."

Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.

I am far beyond perturbed.

I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.

Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?

Careful, bride.

I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.

Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.

"... my empress?" one servant calls.

"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."

And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.

"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.

"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."

My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"

"My pretty bride."

I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?

I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.

And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.

The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.

And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.

Who in the world were you?

"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."

I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?

I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.

And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.

My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.

Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?

My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.

My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."

So, we when go this way.

We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.

And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.

He waved his hands once and the doors opened.

There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.

I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.

I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.

And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.

My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.

I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."

I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.

Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."

My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."

Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."

I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.

He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.

I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.

"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"

My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.

"-to be my wife."

My empress.

I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.

Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."

And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.

Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.

I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"

I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.

Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.

Shhhhhhh.

He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.

The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.

I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.

Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."

My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.

"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"

I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.

I don't know what happens after that.

I think I'm having a panic attack.

Am I having a panic attack?

Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?

I'm not having a panic attack.

"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.

All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.

He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."

I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.

Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"

He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."

I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.

I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.

I shiver when he calls out my name.

"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."

Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.

I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."

I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"

I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."

A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?

I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.

I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"

Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."

And then, he releases me and walks away.

I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.

I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-

I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.

Silent. I have to be silent.

The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.

I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.

"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.

My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.

I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.

Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."

I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.

I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.

"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.

I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."

I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."

I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."

The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.

And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.

Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."

I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."

He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.

I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-

"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."

I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.

But I do know you.

I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.

"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."

And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.

"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."

My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"

He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.

I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."

"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.

I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."

Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."

And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.

I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.

I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.

I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.

I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.

I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."

"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."

I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.

I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."

He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."

I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."

"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."

When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."

A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."

That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.

"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"

"No, I really-"

I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.

"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.

He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.

"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."

I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."

He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."

He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.

I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.

Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."

I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.

I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-

"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."

I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.

Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.

I hear him chuckle.

The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-

I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.

I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.

The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."

Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."

Dammit, Rezba.

I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.

My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."

Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."

I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.

The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.

I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.

"Fuck."

My bride.

I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.

"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.

I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.

Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."

I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.

"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.

I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."

The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.

Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.

I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.

The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.

"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.

Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"

"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."

I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.

I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."

I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.

I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."

He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."

My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"

I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"

My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.

My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.

Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"

"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.

His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."

I scoff.

"I am not the monster you make me out to be."

I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.

I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.

I clench my jaw.

My willpower is not very effective.

"I am your husband," he mutters.

I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."

A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."

His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.

I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"

His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"

"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"

My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."

I suck in a sharp breath.

"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."

My expression drops where his softens.

"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."

"Kylo-"

"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."

My breath begins to strain.

He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."

Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"

"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."

My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.

"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."

I begin to tremble against him.

He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"

"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"

He stills.

"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"

"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"

He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."

Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."

If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.

I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.

I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."

I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.

"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.

This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.

"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.

"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"

Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."

"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"

"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.

Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"

"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.

Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."

"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.

I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.

Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.

Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."

I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Kylo straightens.

"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"

His expression hardens.

"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."

"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"

I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"

I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."

I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.

"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.

I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.

"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."

His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"

Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.

I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-

I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.

Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"

I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"

My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.

"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."

I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.

He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."

When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."

I clench my jaw.

"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."

I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.

"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."

A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."

He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.

He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.

It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.

And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.

It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.

But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.

He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-

I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.

He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."

I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"

"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.

"Kylo..."

I suck in a breath when he says his name.

"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.

"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.

Kylo stills.

No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."

Kylo waits.

He debates my words.

I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"

The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.

I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.

"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."

"Get out of my fucking thoughts."

"... ... I don't want to."

I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.

"Your mind is an oasis to me."

I say nothing.

"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."

I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

"I'm telling you what-"

"I'm done with this conversation."

I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.

"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers

"I'm not cold."

"I know."

"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.

I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."

I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.

"I can hold you," he mutters softly.

I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.

"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.

Shut up, get out of my head.

He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"

Yes.

"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"

I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.

"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."

"Shut up," I whimper.

I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.

"Face me," he mutters, "coward."

I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."

He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."

"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."

"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"

"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.

Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."

"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"

He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."

When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.

This is my final straw.

I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.

Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.

He doesn't fight back.

Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.

I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.

Why didn't he fight back?

Why isn't he fighting back?

He wanted me to kill him?

I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.

Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.

"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.

I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.

Shhhhhh.

He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.

I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.

I would never damage you.

I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.

Not unless you want me to.

Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.

My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"

"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"

Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.

He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."

I grit my teeth tightly.

"Beg me," he groans, "beg."

I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.

He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."

My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."

Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.

I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.

Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.

"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.

I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."

"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.

My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.

He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.

I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.

His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.

Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."

My throat tightens.

"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.

I suck in a breath and call out his name.

He releases a sharp one as he says mine.

I call out his name.

He responds with mine.

I hesitate.

He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."

I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."

He nods, "louder."

"Kylo-"

"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."

"Make me yours, please."

Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being

I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.

He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."

He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.

I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.

He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.

We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.

Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.

I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.

I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.

When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.

I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.

I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.

I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.

"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.

He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"

I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.

Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."

His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.

He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"

I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."

He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.

"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.

"Kylo."

He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.

I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.

I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.

I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.

Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.

I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."

He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.

Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.

I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.

Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.

"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."

I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.

Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.

I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."

I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.

We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.

"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."

"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."

In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.

I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.

And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.

As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.

When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.

"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.

I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.

"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."

I bite my lip and lean my face into his.

"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."

I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.

His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Text

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 7.1k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, death, violence, swords & firearms, abductions, hurt/comfort, torture references, nakedness, needles, gore, etc.

A/N: Alright, and that's a wrap on this mini-series. Biker/mechanic!Ghost is next on the list.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You hit the water and immediately push back to the surface, ignoring the burning of your open wounds.

“John!” Your high and panicked call can’t be heard above the yells to arms and the distressed wails. “What are you doing?!” Bodies get chucked from the side of the ship and all you can do is watch as they meet the water around you—skin cut open and eyes dead.

While the sea was numbing your pains, your heart was hurting enough for all of them; hands flailing to try and help keep you above the waves. But everything was so dark, only the light far above giving you a sliver of perception.

“John!” You scream again, eyes snapping back and forth along the ship. Your arms burned with heat.

“Go!” The words ring out and make you cringe, graveled and ragged—an order. But how could you? Vile grunts and skin meeting skin sound out, no more shirking blade edges or the boom of pistols. Fists meeting ribs, bared teeth.

“The Mermaid was wearing tags! He’s part of the King’s forces!” The leader. “If we can’t have the beast, we’ll have the coin from a turncoat!”

“Deserter!”

“Traitor!”

“Tie him to the post!”

Your ears twitch and pull at the horrible words, lungs near hyperventilating and black waves going red. If you weren’t able to ingest water, the way your head was slowly sinking would have left you sputtering and choking.

What will they do to him? Why can’t I help? It was the only part in your life where you regret having a tail, because now you can’t save John in the same way he saved you. Your eyes lock helplessly to the upper deck, far, far above. You can’t drag yourself up or even find the energy to stay above water.

Your strength was waning quickly—you needed to be tended to; healed. But it felt worse than a betrayal to see not even a glimpse of John’s brown hair or his large arms. To not feel the hold he kept on you. You wanted his lips and his flesh to be pressed into you, to venerate your image as he always did.

A Hierei that worships at the shrine that is you.

“Curse you,” you say aloud to the men above. The ones that tie your raging love to a post; you hear his low growls and biting expletives like blades in their own fashioned way, the sea garbling your words. “Curse your greed and your violence!”

But no one listens, and with a heavy and weighed heart, you have to let your dead muscles rest as they give out completely against your will. Sunking under the battling waves, you feel like dead weight; no different than the various bodies around you that John had dispatched.

You felt useless.

Above you was John, being tied up and taken—taken to a King that wants your species dead. You don’t want to leave, but the current is snatching you away like seaweed, limp and broken. Whatever John had done to your wounds, the fabric of his shirt was holding fast to your shredded flesh, but it didn’t stop the agony or the inner conflict.

He was right above you…why aren’t you strong enough to help?

Your eyes flutter, hair and arms floating.

Everything grows dark, but John never once leaves your mind. Perhaps the Fisherman was worshiping you, but you did the same unto him.

The eyepatched leader’s words loop in your brain, paired with storm-blue eyes. Gentle praises.

“...I think he loves the beast!”

Your body sinks with the rest.

—

The sand under you is coarse and dry as your eyes barely open, chest rising and falling but shakily, stuttering in its course. Small noises groan in the back of your throat, fingers like stones beside your face.

Everything hurts, but something has woken you up. Noises. Muttered speaking.

“Now why would she have these?” There was a moment of clinking metal and a low huff.

You groan louder and curl into yourself more, only to stop when the tears in your flesh pull. Your lungs inhale sharply.

“Oh, Christ,” the accented voice is smooth as it gets closer. “Easy, then, Ma’am. Shite, I was hoping you’d stay under a bit longer, I’m not bloody done yet.”

Forcing your eyes open, you hiss at the burn of morning light, laying on your stomach with…your brows tighten…were you wearing a tunic? A hand meets the back of your shoulder and you cry out, jerking.

“Woah!” More force is applied to keep you down but it only makes you struggle more. “Please, I’m trying to stop the bleeding!”

You stall at this revelation like a bird, panting. Muscles tight, you cautiously look over your shoulder to weakly stare at whoever this man was.

Brown eyes meet your own, and a dark-skinned complexion over an oval face. They blink at you with concern and hesitation, sparing only a nervous smirk and a chuckle. You stare widely, saying nothing.

“I…I’m just trying to stop the bleeding. Whoever got you,” this man trails off, glancing down at your tail. “Well, they did some proper damage.”

“Who are you?” Your voice is damaged from all the screaming you’d done, cracking and frail. You stifle a cough and survey the land with frantic snaps of your orbs. This wasn’t your cove.

Where were you? What had happened to the ship? To John? Your hand travels to your neck but lands on nothing. It’s like the world stops turning.

The necklace.

“My name’s Kyle, Miss, but I’m just as well off being called Gaz—” Your hand snaps to his shoulder, wrenching him down in a violent slam to the sand; with a shove of your ailing body, you cross an arm over his chest to pin him.

Brown eyes widen, and one hand easily raises in a placating manner. You don’t bother to look at the other, your head broken into bits of instances and images of horror.

“Where is it?” Your lips hiss out. You didn’t know you could make a sound like that.

Kyle, dressed in a fine outfit of a Bookkeeper, furrowed his brows at you. He didn’t look off-put by your brashness, or by the fact that you were of the Merfolk.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am…I’m not following. Where’s what, exactly?” There was a glinting at his throat, and you snatched at it with a glare and snarl of ‘thief’ on your tongue.

A blade presses into your side and you freeze. Kyle stares up at you with a frown on his face, body tight. “I think you should let that go, Miss, yeah?”

The metal discs are the same as John's, but they hold a different name entirely.

“Kyle Garrick, Sergeant, 141st company under the King.”

“One Hundred and Forty-First?” You whisper in a hushed voice and the blade loosens from you. Mouth opening and closing, you forget for a moment what Kyle is. Your eyes go glossy with hope. “You know John?”

Eyelids blink at you in astonishment and all at once the knife is sheathed at his hip once more. Gaz gapes, his slight stubble shifting on his face as he talks slowly.

“Yes, I do…how do you know the Captain? No offense, but I didn’t peg him for the type to run off with…well…” he trails, chuckling. “Not run exactly, then, is it?”

You glower and push back, flinching at your aches but waste no time in speaking frantically to the man as your tail flaps. If he was on the same ship as John was, they certainly knew each other well; Kyle had to assist you.

“Please, you need to help me,” The man’s face goes serious and he pushes himself up, “—there’s been a terrible event. John has been taken, don’t you understand?” Your hands grasp at his collar, forgetting to ask about the missing necklace in your mounting hysteria. “They took him. They’re bringing him back to the King and it’s all my fault!”

You don’t know if it’s the pain or the fatigue, but your emotions spill from you in droves, silver tears falling like drips from a blacksmith's smelter to the beach of this foreign place. Your body feels unable to hold itself up—so much blood lost.

Gaz gains a sheen of panic at your state, gripping your shoulders lightly above the given tunic.

“Now, now, Ma’am, steady. You’ve lost a lot of blood, eh? We need to get you sorted.” But internally your words disturbed him. John had been taken? His Captain? And he had known a mermaid?

“I don’t need to be sorted,” you mock, shaking him, “I need my John back! And you’re going to help me.”

Kyle gazes around awkwardly, clearing his throat and trying to comfort you as his upper half gets forced back and forth.

“First,” he stops you with a firm squeeze on your shoulders, “we’re getting you stitched and wrapped, Ma’am. If what you’re telling me is real,” Gaz pauses, glancing at the sea lapping at your tail, “then I need to get in contact with the others.”

Your body slightly sags, panting and shaking. While you should have asked who the others were, your adrenaline was too great to allow you to think above the fact that Kyle was going to help you. He had known John—that was enough for you to know he was a good person.

“Easy,” the man mutters, face pulled in concern. There’s a moment of tense silence before Gaz shifts a hand to the pocket inside of his tweed frock coat, slipping to the side of his green notch vest. He blinks his brown eyes at you before he lightly takes John’s necklace from the depths of his clothes. Kyle presents them as your shoulders loosen with a small sliver of comfort. “I believe you were looking for this, yeah?”

He spares a friendly, boyish, smile.

Your fingers brush his as you delicately take the metal up, fingertips weeping with torn flesh. Staring at them, you bring the item to your lips and kiss it gently after a moment of agony, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, “you fool, what have you done?”

“I’ll be needing to move you, Ma’am,” Gaz clears his throat and looks back to the grass-coated road. The beach where you had washed up was near the bottom of a slight hill, and along with sand, there were a lot of pebbles. The wind was chilled. “I was just finishing up with a temporary binding when you woke. We can speak more when I get the larger wounds stitched.”

You see his gaze fall down you once more.

“I’d think there’s a lot to catch up on.” Shuffling John’s necklace over your head, you allow Kyle to take bandages from his Gladstone bag which he had brought down from the road with him. He says he found you on the beach unconscious not five minutes before you woke back up as he takes out John’s tunic strips before packing the wounds with fresh material.

“You stopped?” You ask quietly, body shaking. “Why?”

“Well, I left the same time that the Captain did,” he explains, looping fabric around your tail as you shudder and clench your teeth at the long cuts over your scales. Kyle spares you a glance before continuing. “Same reason too. The minute innocent beings were being hunted, everyone in the One Hundred and Forty-First deserted. They weren’t too happy with us, I’d imagine. I do what I can to help anyone, regardless of species.”

Gaz pulls back and finishes up, brushing his hands on his folded legs and sighing.

“We all separated and led our lives the best we could—got jobs, hid ourselves, the like.” While the story was fascinating, as John was rare to talk about the King or his service beyond a clenched jaw, you truly were suffering from blood loss.

Every moment it became harder to keep your upper-half vertical and your eyes open. Gaz’s words slurred in your eardrums as the sand under your hands got pushed back by pressure like a rock being dragged. Your head must have swayed, because the next moment you’re being lifted with a grunt and a steadying of feet.

“Can’t say I’ve ever carried a mermaid,” Kyle grumbles to himself, blinking down at your form as our head rests limply on his chest. “Certainly not one that knows Price of all people.”

You focus on your breathing as he ascends the hill, going slowly and holding your form tight so as not to drop you. While not John’s size by any means, the man was still strong in a more lean and lithe way where your Fisherman’s was upfront and bare with it.

You’re carried down the trodden path to a lone house on the upper hill above the water, small and quaint, it’s only a single square room.

Truly this event speaks to your luck—how on earth had you found perhaps one of the only men on the planet that knew John and sympathized with magical creatures?

Kyle sets you back on his bed softly, pillows pressed into indents of your head and cheek.

“Alright then,” he sighs, “let's get this figured out, yeah?”

You’re offered food and water, but all you care about is sleep. Your tail hangs off the end of the bed and your fins ache with torn skin. Without even looking at your scales, you know they’re damaged immensely. Most will be left with great scars.

Merfolk could be called vain in their lifetime, and the sentiment wasn’t entirely untrue. You were beings of elegance and beauty—ethereal lustfulness hardwired into your DNA. Image was important to you, and this loss was great.

But the loss of John hurt more than any torture someone could inflict on you; any wounds. You needed him back.

As Gaz prompted you to tell your story, which you did with failing consciousness, your hand traveled to your necklace to grasp it tightly. Lips quivering. When the first push of the man’s needle entered your hard flesh, you never even felt it.

—

You awoke for the second time, once more, to the sound of speaking.

“Well, he’s sure gotten up to it while we’ve been away! Fuckin’ bastard.” This accent didn’t belong to Gaz, and thus your eyelids pushed back with slight unease. Had John’s Sergeant sold you out? With a struggle, you blink back to reality only to find a pair of bright blue eyes stuck on you.

For a moment you startle, those shades so similar to John’s that for a moment you had forgotten what had transpired. Then the pain in your tail strikes up and you balk back sharply.

“Soap!” Gaz hisses, grabbing the large and built man away from the bed. “Get the hell away from her, would you? Christ, she’s been through enough without having to look at that face when she wakes up, Mate.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” Soap, as he’d been introduced, was the epitome of a blacksmith—ash still on his square jaw and his large black apron tied at a stiff waist. His arms were as bulky as your head and while he was shorter than Gaz he made up for it in sheer muscle.

Blue eyes darken with annoyance before they swivel back to you, but they lighten just the same when they spot your fear-spiked expression.

“Sorry about that, Little Lady. Just curious, is all.” You swallow the saliva in your throat and turn to look at Gaz in question. “Not every day somethin’ like this happens.”

“Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish,” the man offers, rubbing at his neck apologetically. “Served with John and I. You can trust him.”

You blink and turn back to Johnny, and, sure enough, around his neck were the common silver discs that Gaz and John wore over the tunic and apron.

“A…” You try to remember what your Fisherman had told you about human customs. With a frown, you carefully extend a hand and hold it aloft while your tail rests and your other limb keeps you up. “A pleasure, Johnny.”

A wide grin meets your eyes and a hand is clapped into your own; shaking it firmly as yours remains limp.

“Ah, please, the pleasure’s all mine.” When his grip leaves you look down at the various stitches and thick wrappings around your body before thinning your lips and gazing back at Gaz. He stares and tilts his head when you lock eyes with him.

“Thank you, Garrick. I…I owe you a large debt.” He’s already shaking his chin at you.

“Negative, Ma’am,” Kyle denies. “The only thing we need to be focusing on is getting the Captain back. Simon should be along by the evening.”

“Sure the man’ll show?” Johnny raises a brow and stands to his full height, going over to the small table in the middle of the room and sitting down with a huff. He picks up a flagon and takes a sip of ale. “He’s far off cuttin’ stone.”

“I sent a rider out and said it was urgent. He should be getting it about now, yeah?”

“Well, hell, I’d sure hope so else we’re out of our favorite Ghost. Can’t have that.” You watch and stare at the ease these two converse with the other, years seem to bleed from their mouths like waves in water. They had it all figured out, and noticeably, they weren’t at all panicked.

“How are the both of you so calm?” You can’t help but ask. Brown and blue turn to furrow their brows at you.

“They took the bloody Captain. Only person worse than that to steal away would be Simon.” A chuckle. “I’m more worried about the bastards themselves than him.” And it was left at that.

At times throughout the day, Gaz would bring you bread to nibble on to help settle your stomach, water, and ale whenever you needed it. When the dryness of the air and the fireplace got too warm for you, Johnny would be the one to carry you down the hill to the water where you’d soak your wounds in the surf. In those moments you could finally take in the pure silence under the waves and let your anguish take hold.

But you always had to break the surface at some point, shimmy into the dry tunic that Soap offers with respectfully averted eyes, and let him carry you back with his bulky arms.

As it always did, the water let your wounds heal far faster than a man’s, though the aches were still intense.

John’s eyes would not leave you. His crown of stars or the lantern light on his face—the way he whisked you away from danger and put himself dead center into it. Keeping you to his large chest as he held aloft a sword in your honor.

“...I think he loves the beast!”

Oh, and you loved right back and you hadn’t told him.

It’s hours upon hours later when the door is shoved open as you sit up in the bed; tail limp and dim on the floor below. You look up in shock at the man whose frame nearly takes up the entire doorway, shoulders wide and thighs vast under work pants and a large tunic, cowl over his head and clasped with a brooch at his left pec. Under shined a deep brown gaze and pale brows, but his entire lower face was covered by cloth.

Intimidating, his visible expression was entirely blank. You wondered if perhaps a vampire had walked into this place without proper entry, but then you remembered the man Johnny and Gaz mentioned.

Simon. Ghost.

Well, he certainly fits the part, stone dust on his clothes and large boots stacked with scrapes. A Stonemason.

“There’s the man!” Johnny exclaims, raising his hand which has another cup of ale in it as he’d downed the other some time ago.

“Where’s Price?” Deep was Simon’s voice, and he spares you a glance but nothing more. Gaze falling down your tail with hidden flickers of intrigue and wafting back up to stop at John’s necklace. His brows pull in as he turns.

“Gone—taken to the King,” Gaz explains from where he leans against the fireplace, face serious.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunts, walking in and closing the door behind him. “Where was he last?” It’s mildly amusing to you that he doesn’t seem bothered or even surprised by a mermaid in Gaz’s home.

“Just off Harpies Nest,” Johnny pipes in, itching at shaved sides of his scalp. “Where the old beasts used to fly from.”

“I’m guessing she’s the reason for that, then?” Everyone was anxious to act, even you. These men were close, and while circumstance had forced them away from one another the loyalties still lay.

“Affirmative. Price’s been in good company, seems.” A stale glare is sent his way and he chuckles and puts up his hands.

“Is there anything we can do?” You ask, looking at each in turn. Seeming to still hold that ingrained ranking that all men in the service do, Johnny and Gaz look to Simon. Brown eyes blink slowly, turning to look at you in a narrowed thought.

After a while, he speaks in a monotone.

“They’ll be bringing ‘em to the castle to stand trial. We’ve already lost a day’s time and there’ll be no ship that can sail as fast as we need it to.”

“By land?” Gaz wonders. Johnny’s shaking his head.

“How do you expect we get the Lady through that?” Eyes turn to your lack of legs. Body stiff, you huff and grit your teeth. If they thought you weren’t going along, that was foolish of them.

“I can swim to the docks,” you pause, “but you’ll have to tell me the way, for I do not know it.”

John had talked about docks—places ships went to rest. You’re sure you can make it, even like this. You had to.

Johnny stares before he chuckles twice, sharing a glance with the others and motioning to you. “I like ‘er.”

Gaz and Simon look at one another with a side-eye, before Kyle sighs and shakes his head. Simon hooks his thumbs into his pants and huffs out, “Sure you’re up for that?”

“I’m helping John.” Pushing, you meet those brown eyes head-on and steel yourself. “I need him back.”

There’s no further fight, and Ghost takes everything you say at face value. “Fine.”

And that was that.

—

The plan was so stupid you wondered if these men had gone brain-dead, but inside the castle dungeons, John had no way of knowing that.

He frowned deeply as his pounding skull tipped back to connect with the cobblestone wall, blood dried over the right side of his face. A growl on his lips as the chains keep his hands high above him and hanging as his backside stays seated on the floor. His limbs had long since gone numb, circulation cut out in an uncomfortable state of numbness.

But inside of him, there was a sense of accomplishment despite everything. He’d gotten you away from dirty hands—away from hooks. Away from danger.

John could die happy with that.

On the ship, before he’d been brought to the castle, the crew had tied him to the mainsail mast with a ragged rope that had skinned his flesh in just minutes of the rocking waves. They’d taken his vessel as well, and all of his belongings were confiscated in the docks. From there it had been amused jabs at his stomach with fists and knife-throwing practice.

John had cuts along the sides of his arms and the meat of his thighs—clothes shredded and torn from blades. His forehead had a long gash from the scalp to the temple, dried now but pulling with red aggression.

The fisherman hums under his breath and thinks only of you.

It was a fact that you had brought music into his life; a melody of waves and scales that could not be denied. Songs that sounded like sea-foam and a lapping of a tail across the water. When he’d seen you that day from behind the black rocks, John had lost a piece of himself to your wide eyes and tilted head. That spark of connection.

He had never been so thankful for choosing a new place to cast his nets, because he’d unwittingly caught the greatest creature he ever could have—one people have been running after for years.

You.

John’s lips pull in a tiny smile, eyes going soft. Above him his chains rattle and his arms flinch, wounds burning, but for the life of him, he can’t stop smiling. Wherever you were, he hoped you were safe and that he gave you the best chance of survival. He hoped you could forgive him.

Footsteps echo off the ground, and John looks over to the iron bars of his cell stiffly, mask re-falling to his stern face like a curtain. Two guards in armor clink down the hallway, expressions hidden by hoods and cloth. One produces a rusted key from his belt and slips it into the door, the metal rattling as it gets forced back and forth until the telltale click signifies the opening of the lock.

“Finally letting me out, then?” John speaks dryly, voice holding a rasp.

No one answers, and soon John’s chains are dropped and his arms seized. Yanked up, the fisherman grunts in pain as his legs drag behind him across the cobble—being taken somewhere. Probably, if John had to guess, the noose.

Desertion isn’t something you can get out of shy of a life sentence; to hell or to a cell was entirely up to the King. And the King wasn’t entirely fond of John and his One Hundred and Forty-First.

John was forced out into the open courtyard, a dichotomy of brightly flowering bushes and expensive finery to the platform placed in the very middle. The brunette's lips thinned at the sight of the large and imposing body made of wood and rope belonging to the gallows, a grim reaper of earthly material. There would be no great fight from him, no roar of a death rattle, just a kicking of his feet and tight wheezes, but no more.

He knows his final thoughts will be of you—what you’re doing right now, how you’ll live the rest of your life. John hopes you don’t cry for him.

The two guards shove him forward, and already a crowd has formed below the viewing platform for the monarch himself, who sits in all of his finery. Wyvern leather for his gloves, unicorn horn for a scepter, and…John’s eyes go tight, scales that make up a crown of opal and gold. Vibrant scales.

Unmistakingly Merfolk, anyone who’s met one of the species would know it. It has the same shine as the one John holds in the pouch on his belt; the fisherman clings to the fact that, against all of it, you were still with him in even a small sense. You’d be with him.

So John grits his teeth and glares up to the dias defiantly as the guards hold him under the noose, shoving his head to the side to grab the rope. He feels no fear.

“Fuckin’ watch it, Muppet,” the fisherman hisses, snapping his head to the side to stare into the glinting brown eyes from under the hood. He pauses, brows furrowing. “What…?”

As his hands are forced behind him, they’re not tied as the excited murmuring from the crowd begins, the King’s forward-leaning attention.

They’re given a knife.

John hides his surprise and looks over to the other guard as he fits the noose over his neck. Amused blue, and around his neck the glint of silver discs.

“Oh, bloody hell, you’re takin’ the piss,” the former Captain growls lowly. He knows those damned eyes, just as he knows his former Lieutenant’s.

MacTavish and Simon.

“Chin up, Captain,” Johnny jokes under his breath hidden by cloth. “Show’s about to start. Let’s give ‘em a proper scare, yeah.”

Blue eye glare, but they lack the venom. A barred-teeth smile grows. How had this happened? Johnny steps back and goes to his side, the wood under their feet creaking. The crowd falls silent, looking to the King for the verdict.

The King’s fingers raise and John memorizes his face in that instant…because it’s only then that he sees Gaz.

Gaz, who was on the upper terrace of the courtyard’s walls, holding a musket with the stock trained to his cheek; body still and ready—tutored to a perfectly motionless trance. There aren’t any guards to be seen near him. It’s a moment of pure silence, a ruling energy. The crowd is waiting for the King to verbalize an answer that he’s never able to give.

As the monarch’s lips open there is an eardrum-bursting boom that shatters the call for John’s doom and instead spells his own in his very castle from one of his former men. A poetic ending, John would say, but he’s unable to verbalize it as he’s suddenly falling through the gallows hatch as Simon reems on the handle.

“Knife!” It’s all the Ghost yells in warning.

With a rush of air, there’s a split second to cut the rope before it breaks his neck, and with a snapping motion, John perfects it in an instant—instinct as sharp as any blade that could be put into his hand. He hits the ground with a loud grunt of pain and struggles to sit up until Johnny and Simon jerk at him from where they’d jumped down as well. Not a second too soon, as lead balls from rival guns were already hitting the gallows.

Not all the guards were dead, then, and apparently, the three had known that would be a possibility.

John would have to scold them later.

“What in the hell is going on?!” The fisherman barks, but he’s being dragged before he shoves their hands off of him and follows to where they beeline into the fleeing crowd.

“What?” Johnny belts out laughter. “No ‘thank you?’ We just saved your neck!”

“Left!” Simon shouts, and although John’s body can’t take much more, they all dart into the cover of the castle walkways. “Make for the docks—the Sergeant’s meeting us there.”

“Bloody fucking Christ!” John growls but quickly goes onto the most important topic. “She’s behind this, isn’t she?” Johnny’s smirk only confirms it.

“Proper girl you’ve got there, Gaz found her on the shore. Else we’d never have heard about it all before you were dead and gone.” John blinks at him. “Getting reckless without us, now?”

The former Captain ignores the remark. “Where is she?”

“Oi!” Ghost hisses, looking over his shoulder as the three hurry on as shouting rings from behind them. “Get your head in the game. Focus on not getting shot, yeah?”

Brown meets blue.

“You’ll see ‘er soon.” Simon ends, dead eyes shifting to a form that rampages through the hallway behind them. “Behind!” He calls loudly, and John ducks just as a knife is thrown with pinpoint accuracy. A sound of a body hitting the floor echoes over the distant screaming and calls of alarm.

The King is dead.

All of the men reach their destination by sheer luck and the knowledge of how to use a blade, cobblestone leading to open streets and back alleys. Finally, the wide stretch of sea was visible, and a shadow slinked out of a corner quickly.

“Hell,” Gaz blinks at them, “do you think I’ll ever be let back into the castle?”

Johnny pants a laugh. “You’ll be lucky to get into the province, ya sneaky Bastard. Fine fuckin’ shot.”

Simon looks at them. “Gaz, Johnny, get to it.”

They’re by the open water of the dock, long wooden walkways stretching out with ships shifting in the waves. John wonders if his boat is here in the back of his mind, but his eyes are already combing the waves greedily in search of you.

Were you here? Oh, he hoped you weren’t. You’d be placing yourself in the middle of a very real and present danger.

“Get to what?” John questions, looking at each man in turn. “What ‘ave you planned, eh? Seems I’ve missed the meeting where we decide to assassinate the bloody monarch in broad daylight.”

Gaz places a hand on his shoulder as he shimmies past. “Best to leave the heavy lifting to the ones who can stand fully, Captain.”

“Aye,” Johnny confirms. “You’ll want to be here more than anywhere, bet ya.”

Simon shares a look with the blacksmith and grabs John by one shoulder, leading him to the water as Johnny takes the other. The brunette blinks quickly in confusion and grunts an expletive.

“Get your hands off of me you pair of—!”

“Have fun!” Johnny and Simon both shove him into the water with a final push and dart off like wisps.

Water rushes into his ears, covering his head and soaking his clothes before it drags him under. John’s arms flailed to propel him back to the surface. A jolt later, his head is breaching the water with a venomous glare and a barked order on his lips to a vacant audience. The boys had already sprinted off to who knows where.

“Son of a…” John trials, weak legs kicking to keep him afloat. Something brushes his thigh as water drips from his nose, cleaning away the blood with a reddish tint to the liquid.

The fisherman startles, head snapping down just as your hands grasp at his abdomen, sliding up as you press your lips deeply into his in one swift motion. He gasps, grip instinctually moving to hold onto the small of your back.

You press into him tightly, pushing every emotion into the locking of your mouths with desperation and longing. Sighing deeply into the kiss, John melts into you as your tail brushes his legs, torn fins visible and shimmering stitches pulling at flesh. Scales glint somewhat brighter under the waves, water dripping along your shoulders and wetting your hair.

John brings you closer when he realizes it’s your form around him, eyes fluttering closed and fingers weaving behind the base of your skull. It’s as if the world stills for that quick and reverent second as if everything is right. The both of you break the kiss with soft eyes, and after a moment of staring your chest releases a chuckle; hands coming up to capture your fisherman’s cheeks, weaving through those beard hairs once more.

The brunette stares at you and lays his forehead into yours, not knowing what to say. A smile plays on his lips.

“...It seems my fisherman had more of a reckless side than I anticipated,” you speak for him, whispering into the air. Your eyes flicker over the cuts and bruises visible on his pale flesh and a flash of fear alights in your expression. “Oh, John…What have they done to you?”

“Just scratches,” the man reassures delicately. “It’s alright, Love. I’ll live.”

But you both know this conversation can’t happen here. With a few more pecks of kisses to his lips, you ask in an ethereal voice, “Do you trust me?”

Your hand is locked to his wrist, pulling him along the waters as your head tilts at him and tail sliding along his flesh.

John wastes no time. “Of course.”

Lips flicker to a small, loving, grin and then you drag him under the water.

—

“Do they hurt?” He asks you carefully, running a calloused hand along the tears in your fins you know will never heal fully. You sit on the rocks below Gaz’s home, the water still dripping off of both of your bodies.

Out farther in the water the three other men are sailing back in John’s fishing boat, a few minutes out. You blink down at him and move a hand to shift his jaw upward to you, humming.

“Not when you touch them like that,” confessing, you keep close to him, held tightly under the crook of his arm and breathing in that scent of rope and wood oil. You practically vibrate with comfort, all of your worries able to be put aside at last.

John looks down at you and chuckles, putting a deep kiss on your scalp and taking a deep inhale.

“Cheeky,” he teases. You smile.

“And yours?” Your voice speaks out in question as the water brushes your tail.

The man peels back to look down at you slowly. “Already better…I owe you, Sweetheart.”

Huffing, you shake your head, “You owe me nothing. The only reason you were there was because of me.”

John’s brows furrow, taking your chin in his fingers and tilting your head back to him. He stares into your eyes for a long while until your face starts to heat with emotion, blinking up at him innocently. His blues dart over the healing cuts and marks with hidden emotion.

“I’d do it again,” John whispers. “A million times over, you hear? I’d be a bloody fool not to.”

He kisses you as you both wait in the setting twilight for the others, bloody and beaten—more scar tissue than anything else—but still your John.

“Thank you,” he mutters into your lips, and then again when he nips at your flesh. The man plays with his necklace at your collarbone as he traces patterns in your scales and smirks when you shiver.

He wonders how he got so lucky when the others anchor the boat near the shore, hopping off and wading the rest of the way to the beach. John kisses your forehead and says he’d be right back.

You watch him with glinting eyes as he walks over to his men, taking each in a heartfelt handshake and conversing honestly. Your eyes blink at the care they display for one another and raise a hand when they peel off, back up to Gaz’s home to rest.

They reciprocate and disappear atop the hill.

What’s he doing? You ask as you watch John climb aboard his vessel and rummage around his fishing barrels, opening some and tossing the tops to the deck. Hands shifting along the rocks, you can’t hide the amusement or affection in your eyes at the sight of his ramping annoyance. What was he looking for?

Your fingers go up to play with his necklace and watch.

You can’t say you feel much heartache at the loss of your cove—even with the king dead, you were still hunted for your scales—though you had grown to see it in a new light. The place was only a home when John was there, and you knew wherever you went as long as he was there it would be alright.

The both of you wouldn’t let anything happen to one another.

John comes back carrying something tucked in cloth, a small parcel held in one hand and longer than it is wide. Your interest is immediately piqued, curiosity straining your eyes.

He holds it out to you with a mischievous glint and a smirk.

“Go on,” John motions. Blinking at him, your brows furrow as you carefully take the item from his hands, settling it in your lap before you shift the cloth away.

Your fingers go to cover your mouth, small gasp entering the air.

It was a golden box, engraved with movements that resemble lace and waves—shimmering in the low light.

“John,” you stutter, “what is…?”’

“Open it,” the man insists, kneeling down in front of you as if his muscles didn’t ache. “It’s the reason I was late that day.” John grunts, rubbing at the bottom of his beard and watching intently; crinkles beside his eyes.

You stare for a moment with burning tear ducts before you grasp ahold of the lid and open it after running a digit over the make.

Inside sits blue velvet and, strangely, your own scales, but atop that…the blinding gold of a pair of twin cuff bracelets—stones the same shade as your tail. It was perhaps the most elegant piece of jewelry you had ever seen.

For a solid minute you’re rendered speechless, mouth opening and closing as your tail hangs limp in the low tide. Chucking, John takes the pieces out and your ears twitch to the sound of your scales clacking together like glass.

“Why would you…” You can’t make sense of it.

John slips them over your wrists and you gape in wonder. They fit just perfectly.

You look up into your Fisherman’s face and feel tears drip down your chin. A hard hand comes to wipe them away as you laugh through a sniffle.

“Do you like them, then, Love?” He asks lowly, beard pulled back in a smile.

“Yes,” you say immediately, giggling. “How could I not? John, they’re lovely. Far too beautiful for me.”

The former Captain grunts and his brows pull in, frowning. “Now why would you say that?” He brings your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Can’t make me change my mind on that, eh?”

Your eyes bore into him, lips parted. After a moment your face feels like it’s on fire and you cover your cheeks.

John laughs loudly, grabbing your arms and lightly squeezing the flesh before taking your grip back down to your lap. You smile so widely you’re afraid your face might crack open.

“No need to hide,” he hums. “Let me see that face.”

“You’re good to me, John.” His face softens, wrinkles fall away, and his chest swells with pride. You kiss his lips and whisper, “I bare my soul to you.”

It wasn’t an ‘I love you’ but something far more precious.

The man’s face deepens with devotion, gruff figure more than easily leaning over yours as you’re carefully laid back to the tiny pebbles behind you—a hand behind your head and at the swell of what would be a hip.

In the darkening night, the sun shines its dying light across the waves just like the extending fingers of John’s firm grip; dragging you into him as sea-currents would. Wrapping you both in kelp and a salty grave. His voice is the grating of sand, the slide of a rope across a wooden deck.

“Then I’ll take care of it for as long as I live.”

Your fisherman damns you to a crypt of land and air, and you couldn’t worship it more. To live and to die beside him is to have existed just as you should have.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

All In 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast.

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?”

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.”

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder.

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.”

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.”

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby.

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--”

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?”

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.”

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him.

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist.

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass.

“Seven,” he says.

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes.

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open.

“Not really,” you mutter.

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch.

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door.

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.”

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...”

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly.

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together.

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.”

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.”

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?”

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh.

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath.

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?”

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is.

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you.

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door.

“Night,” you offer up.

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.”

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night.

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else.

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding.

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth.

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go.

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart.

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door.

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?”

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.”

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out.

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for.

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page.

‘Good Morning, Doll,

Enjoy breakfast on me.

B. Barnes’

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below.

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way.

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what.

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull.

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top.

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon.

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...”

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?”

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...”

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know.

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets.

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time.

“We should head out before nine,” you say.

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.”

“Mom’s going to be worried.”

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’.

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news.

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too.

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.”

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour.

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #casino au #series #all in #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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fanon-canon-idfk · 1 year ago

Text

(This story takes place through the dark era, Dazai’s time in hiding, and ADA)

Genre: angst to fluff

Dazai Osamu x Male Reader

Dazai was your boyfriend in the simplest terms. He loved you with all he could, even when his abilities to express so were lacking.

You could tell when he was expressing his love, you had gotten used to how your lover worked and accepted him in full.

As your superior, he would always send you on less risky missions if he had a choice. If he didn’t, he would assign you a whole team of strong and intelligent mafia members.

He loved you more than anything, and you loved him just as much.

You were his rock, his protector, and his weak spot.

Of course at this time, the Great Demon Prodigy wasn’t exactly crying in your arms, but you were who he could lay against on every hard day when his mind was particularly persistent.

Then tragedy truly struck.

One of yours and Osamu’s close friends, Odasaku, had not only passed away, but Dazai himself disappeared without a word.

The love of your life,

The boy you relied on,

The boy you kept warm in his shipping container,

Your boyfriend,

He left without a single word. Not even a goodbye.

To say you were hurt would be beyond an understatement. You were broken.

You gave so much of your life, your soul, your heart, all to this singular boy and he didn’t even say goodbye or tell you where he was?!

You also got home that night to a smashed phone and all remnants of data carrying his phone number or messages, etc!

To make matters worse, Mori didn’t let you have a single day off. Constantly interrogating you, having people watch you, all to guarantee you had no knowledge on Dazai.

It took several months, but finally the entirety of the mafia was off your ass.

You were burnt out, barely walking your way home after you were let off your shift and allowed a day off (credit to Chuuya convincing Mori for you).

You finally reached your apartment. After locking your door, you staggered straight to your bedroom and plopped right onto your bed. You passed out immediately.

You woke up at around 2 AM to the sound of shuffling in your bedroom. Originally having passed it off as nothing, you didn’t bother to open your eyes as you let yourself drift back to sleep.

Then you felt a presence pressing down on your mattress right in front of you. Right as you felt their arm snake around your shoulder you shot up, smacking their arm away and ready to defend yourself.

As you grabbed the blade in your pocket and opened your eyes however, you were met with sight and sound of a familiar presence.

“M/N! Wait, wait! Hey, hey, relax, it’s me! It’s just me..” Dazai reassured you. That’s right. Dazai.

Technically-but-not-really-because-there-was-no-breakup ex boyfriend, Dazai.

Dazai, who left you behind.

Honestly, you weren’t too sure if learning it was him made you want to stab him any less.

After a while of tense silence, Dazai suddenly grabbed the sides of your face, attempting to pull you in for a desperate kiss.

Right as your lips were about to touch one another’s, you pushed him back from you, making him have to quickly catch himself before he fell right off the bed.

“What the hell are you doing here?! Do you have any clue what they’ll do to you if they find you here? What they’ll do to me?!” You shouted.

“I’ve missed you..” he looked at you pitifully, a smile still being forced onto his face. Dazai attempted to get closer to you again, but stopped himself when you held a hand out as a signal to stay where he is.

You placed the blade in your hand down on your bed, getting up and facing away from him. You scattered through your brain as you ran your hands through your hair in frustration.

He didn’t say a word, just silently watching you pace around your room.

You took a deep breath, settling your anger and hurt for a moment.

“So.. you’re not wearing your face bandages anymore.. or?” You asked casually, without turning around. You still couldn’t bare to look at him right now.

He didn’t answer your question, but chuckled at your casual talk. He felt a light warmth in his chest, happy to finally have someone treat him the same as always.

“You can stay in my room tonight..” his eyes lit up, “I’ll be on the couch..” and then his heart sank.

“What..?” He questioned weakly. “You’re here for a place to sleep, right? That much you’ll get from me.. but I- I can’t sleep here.” You explained, beginning to walk out of the room.

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose you again. He couldn’t stand being alone anymore.

He acted purely on emotion, leaping off the bed and gripping your torso like a vice.

“What the-?” You were cut off,

“Please.. I don’t want to be alone anymore.. I promise, I’ll explain everything… please.. I’m sorry, M/N..” He begged you, his hold on you never faltering.

You finally looked down at him. He was crumbled to his knees, gripping onto your dress shirt like you would disappear any second, forehead pressed against your back.

God, everything about this sight pained you beyond belief.

You couldn’t stand to see him like this, even after everything.

So you kneeled down to his level, scooped him up in your arms, and brought him back to your bed, sitting beside him.

Just as he promised, he explained everything. What happened to Odasaku, why he had to leave, why he had to cut you off. Everything.

By the end of it all, you were back where you both were used to being; him with his head in your chest, your arms wrapped around his body, the both of you together.

You fell asleep together, just like before. You were finally at peace, and so was he.

In the morning, you woke up alone. You almost thought you dreamed it all, that was until you saw a napkin with writing on it.

On it was Dazai’s handwriting, and it said:

“M/N, please wait for me. I promise, I’ll be back and we’ll be together again. Right now, I need to stay in hiding, and most importantly, keep you out of it. I’ll find you.

I love you.

Love, yours truly.

PS: I had your last frozen waffle, sorry. <3”

Despite the ache returning to your heart, you chuckled.

You’d miss him like hell, and he’d definitely have to make it up to you, but you knew he’d return to you.

So you waited.

4 years later, he turned up on your doorstep.

A 4 year recap and some serious apologizing later, and Dazai was back where he was before. He was in your arms again.

After you two got back to where you left off, you were introduced to the new people in his life.

You were happy for Osamu; he’d finally found a community that accepted him and cared for him. He wasn’t isolated anymore.

After the dust finally settled between the mafia and the agency, you didn’t hesitate to slip a ring on that pretty little finger of his.

Osamu was now your beautiful husband, and you both couldn’t be happier.

After all, with that ring on his finger, nothing but death could part you again.

#male reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd scenarios #bungou stray dogs scenarios #top male reader #dom male reader #bsd x male reader #dazai osamu #male reader blog #dazai osamu x male reader #sub dazai #sub bsd #bungou stray dogs x male reader

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ramsayxme · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter One / Chapter Two / AO3 Link

Authors Note: TW- forced sex, forced oral sex, slight violence, Ramsay things, abandonment, etc etc.

Chapter Three: Your Reward

You finished your bath alone. A servant came in to add wood to the fire, allowing you to have promised warmth for the night. The water grew cold as you soaked, hoping and praying to the Gods that the water would cleanse you of his touch. When the water was finally as cold as the air, you pulled yourself out and slumped in front of the fire, pulling your knees to your chest. You hadn't been given another nightgown. You wrapped a pelt around your shivering and damp body as you allowed yourself to air dry in front of the fire.

Once you dried, you padded naked to the door. You knocked aggressively. "Can I get some clothes?" You yelled. A man was on the other side, keeping watch of your door, and he hollered back to you in a gruff voice. "Lord Ramsay has not delivered any clothes for his prisoner." You huffed, slightly annoyed. You walked over to your bed and laid down, covering yourself with the blankets. It was nearly impossible to tell what time of day it was here, your tiny window only ever showed overcast snowy skies.

You closed your eyes, exhausted from the last 48 hours, and wanted to attempt to get some sleep while Ramsay was likely on a hunt or doing whatever it was that evil Lord's did during the day. You closed your eyes, and drifted to sleep.

******************************

You stirred, waking up. Your room was nearly pitch dark, the fire completely dead. The only light you could focus on was the lit candles on your small table. You jumped, realizing that Ramsay was sitting at the chair next to your table, staring at you as you woke up. He had a wine cup in front of him, no doubt full to the brim. He had no expression on his face as he stared at you. You closed your eyes again, hoping that he wasn't really there and you were imagining things.

"I brought you the clothes you asked for." Ramsay's voice echoed in your room, breaking the silence. You groaned, your body was aching. You opened your eyes to look at Ramsay. "Thank you...M'lord." You whispered as you sat up in bed, making sure the blankets stayed over your naked skin. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" He asked you. You gingerly rubbed your face, softly allowing your brain to turn on again. "No, Rams- My Lord. I don't know." He chuckled. "You slept all day and all night. You poor, tired thing." He suddenly stood up, the chair scooting loudly.

You believed him. You had been so exhausted, you could imagine yourself sleeping that long. "I'm sorry, My Lord, I was very tired." You watched him intently as he walked over to your bed, sitting on the foot of it. "It's quite alright. I forgive you." He smiled, his eyes strangely calm. You didn't understand his dynamic, one minute he was angry at you and the next, loving and soft. He leaned forward towards you, and whispered, "I missed you yesterday. I came by last night but I saw how deeply you were sleeping. I didn't want to..." his eyes rolled around their sockets, searching for the right words. "...disturb you."

You forced a gentle smile. "Well, thank you for that. I needed the rest. That was... very kind of you." Ramsay chuckled, placing his hand on top of your leg over the blankets. "Kindness is what I am known for, My Lady." You weren't sure what to do, so you just softly smiled at him. He stood up and walked to the window, staring outside. "You deserve a reward, you see." He began.

"Last night after I visited and then left, the servant who was in charge of locking the door seemed to have forgotten his duties. Your door went unlocked all night long as you slept!" He exclaimed. Your heart sank. You could've escaped. You mentally scolded yourself for not being more vigilant. "But! Don't you worry, I took care of him. He won't be guarding your door any longer... come and see!" He beckoned you with his hand. You slid off the bed, dragging the blankets on the floor behind you, still covering your body.

You reached the window and Ramsay draped his arm over your shoulders, pressing his cheek against yours. "Look, there." He pointed outside. Your eyes followed the imaginary line until you saw it. Hanging on a wooden platform, there was the bloody and fully exposed muscular system of what was once a man. You gasped and looked away, burying your face into Ramsay's shoulder. He chuckled. "Aww, you are so innocent. That was the man that failed to lock the door, you see? I could've done that to you when you tried to run away. But, I showed you mercy." He cooed into your ear, his free hand playing with your hair.

"Are you ready for your reward?" He asked, using his index finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. "Are you going to flay me?" You asked, lower lip trembling. Ramsay smiled empathetically and cradled your face with his hand. "No of course not. Your reward isn't being flayed, silly girl. Your reward is pleasure." You stiffened, unsure of what he was alluding to. "Go, lay on the bed." He pointed towards your bed. You reluctantly made your way and laid down, burrowing under the covers. Ramsay began unlacing his shirt as he approached you. You prepared yourself to be used once again by him, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, listening to Ramsay's leather fall to the floor along with his trousers and the clatter of his knives. You felt the weight on the bed as he climbed on top of you. You opened your eyes, expecting his face to be in front of you, but it wasn't. You saw him lifting the covers at the foot of the bed, and crawling head first in. "Let me please you." You heard him say under the blankets. Your body stiffened as you felt his shoulders between your ankles, and then up to your thighs.

He pushed your knees up, resting your thighs on his shoulders. You clamped your legs together, but Ramsay softly spread them. You felt your stomach churn, but this time, it wasn't with anxiety. You felt your core warm up as he began kissing your inner thighs softly, gently sucking as his lips grazed your skin. You held your breath as his hands traveled up, squeezing your breast softly, rubbing his thumb over your nipples. You whined, your body at war with itself. Ramsay was coaxing you gently with kisses, begging you to relax as he kissed as high as he could on your thighs.

You exhaled a moan as his lips met your wet cunt, kissing and sucking gently. He hummed with delight as he felt you were already wet for him. He gripped your thighs with his hands as he pulled your legs apart, allowing him full access to your most sensitive area. "Ramsay I-" You tried to say, but were cut off by your own gasping as he swirled his tongue around your clit. He was very good at this, which was making your body go into a pleasure induced swim even if you didn't want it to.

He continued to kiss your folds, his tongue snaking inside you as his nose pressed against you perfectly. You allowed your eyes to close as you sank deeper into his trance. You reached under the blankets and started swirling your fingers in his curls, gently gripping at his hair. He groaned as you did so, causing vibrations to gently tickle you as he licked. Your grip on his hair tightened as he licked faster and more passionately. "Doesn't that feel good?" He groaned, his lips grazing your clit. You moaned in response because unfortunately, it did.

You had never been eaten out before, but Ramsay definitely knew what he was doing. Your body was shivering under his touch, a flick of the tongue was enough to send a rolling wave of lust over you. You wanted him badly. You tugged at his hair and lifted the covers. "Ramsay, I want-" He reached up and covered your mouth with his hand. You whined into his hand as he silenced you, his other hand made its way down to your core.

"I know what you want." He whispered while pushing two of his fingers deep inside you. You lifted your hips, begging for more. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of you, the slow pace driving you crazy. Your hips began grinding on his fingers as he kept kissing your clit. You felt yourself climbing towards orgasm, and Ramsay could tell. He read it on your face. He pulled himself up, and his fingers slid out of you completely. Ramsay lie down next to you on the bed and he put one of his toned arms behind his head.

He grinned at you, his face slick with your arousal as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you down to his waist. You immediately took his hard cock in your mouth. "That's right, good girl." He groaned as you began allowing his cock to fill your throat. You bobbed your head slowly up and down on his length, you couldn't quite fit all of it in your throat without gagging. Ramsay seemed to enjoy the gagging, though. You felt his hands on the back of your head as he applied pressure, pushing your face down on his cock.

You groaned, gagging on him. He exhaled loudly as you gagged around him, your throat contracting on his twitching cock. "Ahh, that feels so good..." His voice was raspy and low. You wanted him inside you. At this moment, you didn't care that he had flayed a man earlier today just for fun. You didn't care that he would probably hurt you within the next hour. You didn't care that he was Ramsay Bolton.

You pushed yourself up, Ramsay staring at you wide eyed. You quickly straddled him, his cock soaking wet with your spit. He chuckled as he saw the desperation in your eyes. "You want me badly, don't you?" He reached out, squeezing your hips. You nodded, whining as you rocked back and forth on his lap, his cock nudging at your entrance. "Take me then. After all, this is your reward."

Ramsay kept kneading at your hips and thighs as you guided his cock inside you. Your body was sent into a euphoric state as he filled you, moaning loudly as your walls stretched to accommodate him. Ramsay was watching you intently as you filled with pleasure, his eyes wide and tracking your face as you slid up and down. Sweat began forming on his forehead and on you as well. Your legs were already so sore from everything you had been through and he noticed you struggling to keep a decent pace.

Ramsay smiled, flipping you over so he was on top. "I'll take care of you, you just enjoy your reward..." he began thrusting into you. Your eyes rolled back as you allowed him to fuck you at his own pace. You didn't realize how badly you wanted him until now. You dug your fingernails into his back as he thrusted, groaning while you dug them in deep. You felt the warmth of your orgasm approaching as he continued to keep the pace. You started to tip over the edge, spilling over and flooding with pleasure. Ramsay didn't slow as he fucked you through your orgasm.

You were panting, aching, and trembling as Ramsay pulled out of you and threw you to the floor by your hair. You slammed onto the ground hard and looked up at him, your body and mind spinning from being so full of pleasure to suddenly thrown on the floor. Ramsay stepped forward, his cock dripping from being inside you. He grabbed your hair and lifted you to your knees, forcing his cock into your mouth. You didn't have the strength or energy to fight back as he fucked your face.

You barely had caught your breath before his cock was in your throat and you were gagging on him again. He groaned words to you, but you were in such a haze that you didn't understand them. He let go of your hair and you fell to the floor, leaving his cock unattended. He growled angrily as he lifted you up and threw you on the bed face first. He slammed his hand down, smacking your ass cheek so hard you let out a shriek. "I said bend over!" He barked. You must've not heard him the first time, as you positioned yourself on the edge of the bed.

His hands grabbed your hips and he fucked you from behind, slamming your thighs into the side of the mattress. He kept smacking your ass, leaving you whining like a pathetic whore. You could tell Ramsay was close to finishing as he got more erratic with his thrusts. He flipped you over to your back, and he straddled your stomach. One of his hands immediately went around your throat while his other hand began stroking his cock which was twitching and ready to release.

He began choking you as he jerked himself off, he was completely sweaty and his face was very serious. You couldn't help but swoon at the sight in front of you. You almost felt lucky to see him like this. Suddenly, the hand choking you pulled back and landed swiftly across your cheek, sending a ringing through your ears. He smacked you across the face. You cried out and Ramsay came, his warm cum hitting you in the face where he slapped you and sliding down to pool in your neck. He held a fist full of your hair from the top of your head as he finished cumming.

His breathing was heavy as he stood up, leaving you on the bed covered in his seed. He smiled at you as he threw you a cloth off the floor. "Keep doing good things and I will reward you more often." He grinned as he pulled his clothes back on. You laid there, wiping his cum from your face and neck. "You do look lovely like this..." He chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Now, be a good girl and clean up this room. I'll be back for you tomorrow." Ramsay swiftly left the room without another word.

You finished wiping yourself off and sat in silence, allowing your body and mind to process what just happened. On one hand, you were humiliated and hated him for using 'your reward' as a chance to just get what he wanted... but on the other hand, you were pleased to be the lady who he used for his pleasure. You were confused and ashamed as you splashed the cold water from your last bath on your face, washing yourself up. You argued with yourself as part of you wished he would come back for more.

Chapter Four

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rottedghuleh · 2 months ago

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🩸 .ꕁ⠀ׅAsa Emory (The Collector) NSFW Alphabet. (F!Reader) ! ! 🪲

A/N: Starting off spooky month kinda early because I need to write something, anything. My brain is buzzing with so many ideas. Anyways, starting it off with a NSFW alphabet for Asa Emory because hardly anyone gives my baby boy attention and because The Collector has been my favorite lately. If you want to do a request for spooky month, just drop me a request and I'd love to do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Depends on Asa's mood, sometimes he'll be very sweet, rubbing out your aches and pains, cleaning you up if he got too rough or came in you. If you were a brat or decided to be a smart ass, he'll lock you alone in a room for hours and not come and help you no matter how much you beg him.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Asa's has two favorite body parts of his, his eyes and his thighs. His eyes because they are honestly so mesmerizing how the fuck would you not like them? His thighs because in the second movie his thighs were MM. Asa likes them, so you can grind yourself against him until your staining his pants with your cum. They're nice, full of muscle. His favorite body part on you is ass, I can totally see him being an ass guy. Eating it out from behind, slapping your ass, cumming in it, really helps get rid of any pent up emotions he felt.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Cumming on your tummy, bonus points if you have some nice pudge to you so he can cum on your soft tummy. He'll run his cock up against your tummy when he gets too close, the swollen head weeping onto your soft skin until it spurts out across your skin. Asa seeing his cum on your body, face, dripping out of your cunt, it gets him so turned on.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Latex. Asa has often found himself imagining what it would be like to see your tits bouncing in a nice, latex outfit while fucking your brains out. He's a switch, when he's feeling submissive, he would so get down on his hands and knees to clean up your latex to make sure it's shiny for next use.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

My boy knows how to FUCK. Asa often would pick favorite victims in his past, finding differing positions, kinks, hell, even aphrodisiacs to get them so turned on they'd grind themselves on Asa's boots until they're a pretty, dripping mess. He's tried a little of everything, I mean, look at the movies, try and tell me Asa isn't a freak.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

This will be talked a little more on in the link section, but anything that is good for pet play. Normal doggy if Asa wants to be more basic, adding some spice if he pulls your hair back to spit into your face. Prone bone if he really wants to fuck you hard with your hands behind your back and his hand pushing your face I to the pillows. Asa would fuck you until your ass turned bright red from the force of his hips.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

Depends on the moment. If it's more of just Asa drilling his cock into you, he gets mean, rough, snapping at you if you fuck something up. He's sadistic, serious when he's dominant.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

Asa has neatly trimmed pubes that slowly trail up into a fading happy trail. It's a dark brown, almost black. When he's more busy setting up new traps or hunting down a new family, he'll let his pubes be a little more messy, letting them curl out.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Playing again on what I said earlier, depends. I feel like Asa has different sides to him. One night, it would be all you. Making sure you cum first and as many times you want. It's slow, gentle, his hands tangled with yours to stare into your eyes to see how your eyes flutter shut. He's possessive, wouldn't hurt a hair on your head when he's in this mood. That's most days. When Asa has had a rough day, expect the worst out of him.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

If Asa has you, he really has no need to masturbate. It's when he's pissed off at you or if you're not around is when he does. Sometimes if you've pissed him off enough, jerking off against your panties, rubbing his tip between the wet mess on the fabric until he cums is how he gets to you. Asa's thick tip would snag onto your entrance through your panties, rubbing against your swollen clit until your crying for more. He gets rough with himself, downright to sometimes he'd jerk himself raw with a pair of your underwear.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

There's quite a list for Asa's kinks. CNC, BDSM, roleplay, pet play, anal, rope play, somno, dacryphilia, overstimulation, sadism, masochism, latex, very strong degrading, spitting, slapping, pulling your hair, blood play, knife play, cuckolding, voyeurism, predator/prey, marking (cuts, bites, bruises, writing).

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

If you're in his home (seen at the end of the second movie if you didn't know), in the kitchen, right in front of the god damn window. Asa would make sure the curtains are wide open and a hand in your hair so you can meet your neighbors curious eyes when you're getting fucked so deliciously. If it's at his museum/hotel where he's got his victims, he has a few places. The camera room is one, letting you bounce on his cock as he watched the cameras. The actual exhibit room where Asa would pin you up against the glass off one of his "art pieces". The last place is sorta taboo, but right in front of his victim either when they are dead or dying and begging for help.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Teasing, either you teasing Asa or him teasing you. Being able to watch you bend over the kitchen counter of his home in a nightgown just to see you have no panties on. I feel like Asa would have a high libido, so as soon you two start making out, his cock is solid as a rock and grinding against you.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

I'm not sure if Asa would have many "no-no's". Maybe the more extreme shit he would immediately say no to, and of course anything that's not fully consensual between you two. He may be a psychopath but he at least takes boundaries seriously. If he's with you, you can also imagine him saying no to other women. He might like seeing you get fucked by another man before killing him, but he wouldn't put you through that unless you want him to.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

👏Eating. Ass.👏 Asa loves to eat ass, he's a munch, filthy. His favorite way to do it is you bent over a counter, bed, desk, anything and him eating you out from behind. His tongue would lap at you like he was starving to death, eventually slipping up into your cunt to suck up and of the fluids that was threatening to slip down his chin. Asa likes to give rather than receive, but on occasion, he likes his dick sucked. He gets handsy, grabbing handfuls of your tits, grabbing your hair. He'll hold you by the back of your neck like the scruff on a dog to hold you in place while he fucks your face.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Asa will fuck you like you're a bitch in heat. Hard, fast, drilling into your cervix so hard it makes your brain melt. That is his usual favorite. Asa will be gentle with you, especially if he's sore or if he just wants to see you're face when you moan.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

Fucking loves them. As much Asa would love spending countless hours using you as a little fuck toy, quickies come in handy. He'll usually just bend you over any nearby object, pump into you until you're wailing like a pig before he goes out to a family or has some victims of his own.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Definitely, as I said before, Asa is into voyeurism. To be able to show that you're his to men that had been eyeing you for far too long. Hell, if he wouldn't get arrested, he'd fuck you on the hood of his van in the driveway and just let the neighbors pass on by. When you're being a brat, teasing you in public is the best form of punishment. To be able to feel that fear, to feel how you clench around him when you know someone is about to walk in on you two, it's like a drug.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

If Asa has had a long day, 1-3 rounds and they're usually nice and slow with small breaks between. On a slower day when Asa has too many pent up emotions, 3-5 and it'll feel like hours. Orgasm control is a favorite of his for you, he'll make sure to slowly pull out your orgasm for as long as he possibly can to go longer.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

Yes. Yes. Yes. Paddle, whips, flogs, handcuffs, ropes, dildos, vibrators, anal plugs, anything really. He uses them mostly on you, but he does have his own cock rings and fuck dolls to use whenever you're not around.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Asa will endlessly tease you if you're being a little bitch. Toying with your clit until you're almost there before he pulls away, leaving you crying and overstimulated. If he's getting the paddles out, he'll pretend like he's about to slap your ass just to watch you flinch in anticipation.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Asa doesn't really get loud, most that comes out are grunts and growls of pleasure. Every now and then, if he's really getting into it, he'll get loud enough that his voice would go raw.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Asa would do this as another tease, sticking a finger up your ass during doggy to feel you clench up around his cock if his cum isn't coming fast enough from exhaustion. Sometimes just the feeling of being able to feel himself fuck you through the thin layer of flesh between your holes really helped get him going.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Asa is packing about 6-7 inches, he's a grower. He's uncircumcised, when getting hard, his tip would be hugged tightly in his foreskin until that red, swollen tip would pop out. He has a long vein right up the middle where his cock has a soft curve to it.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

High, very high. Asa struggles with how often he gets turned on. If he's watching someone fucking when he's stalking a family, he immediately hardens and once he gets home to you after holding it in for hours, it's guaranteed that he will be fucking you in the same exact position he saw.

ㅤㅤㅤ࣭ㅤ۟ㅤ🪲 ㅤㅤ◌ㅤ

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Depends on exactly the "session". If it was hard and fast, Asa is right asleep with you on his chest. If not, then he'll hold you until you fall asleep to make sure you get plenty of rest for next time.

#horror #fanfic #slasher x you #slashers x reader #smut writing #the collector 2009 #the collection #asa emory

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definitelyisd1ce · 7 months ago

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“It’s always been you.”

K. Baji — Tokyo Revengers.

Synopsis : Being somewhat affiliated with gang because you like one of its members; leaves you feeling strung along. Although, if it all fells, it’ll end well. Right?

Content Warnings!

contains the following ; unestablished relationship(s) , light angst to fluff and comfort, sweet nothings and sweet sorrows! ——— very much SFW!

As always, A/N! : My content is for those who wish to read it, though it is heavily recommended that you are 18+. I have no control over what you read, nor is it my business. Read at your own discretion. I’m not holding your hand.

WC; 2.3K !

Viewer Discretion Advised. <3

7:32pm.

The sun had cast a bright orange-yellow through the sheer white curtains of your bay windows, praising its rays on you as you decided it was time to crash in for the night. It was Friday, so there was nowhere to go. All your homework and upcoming assignments had been done, so you were basically just… here.

You settle in your bed with a book, letting the sun set in on you, and watching you read the book (it's more like reading the words and not retaining the information).

You needed help figuring out why you weren't interested in the book. It fits your taste; it was on your "To read!' list, so what was the problem? Unbeknownst to you, the deep-rooted desire to text your situationship was brewing, and it annoyed you.

You tossed the book to your side and picked up your phone, looking at the time and date on the home screen, though there was no notification from the guy you were looking for.

Keisuke.

You didn't like to accept the fact that he ghosted you every now and again, mainly because he always dragged his sorry ass to see you before anything was said and done. You still couldn't hold that over his head because he had a gang, family, mom, and school to cater to.

He wasn't your boyfriend, and you weren't his girlfriend; at least, that's what it comes out to be after you do the mental gymnastics.

You laid your phone on your chest and stared at the ceiling, the ridges in it doing imaginary dances to entertain your brain and distract you from the impending silence. Eventually, your eyes grew shrouded, and you fell asleep.

2:43am.

The light taps of rocks hitting your window roused you awake and caused you to sit up and glance at your phone.

The time read 2:43, and the day was a new day. The only thing different was a couple of missed notifications: various calls and text messages, Instagram, TikTok, etc. But the one that stuck out to you was from your ravenette.

3 new messages and 2 missed calls from 'Baji <3."

It was weird; you didn't even know you had fallen asleep, exhausted and missing everything lively before the world went quiet.

You were pulled out of your stirring thoughts by another pebble thrown at your window, forcing you to pull yourself out of your bed and head to the window. You pulled the curtain back a little, only giving you a view of the ground below it without being seen, and there he was.

Baji, standing in his toman uniform and leaning against his motorcycle, tossed another pebble in his hand, almost nearing to look like he was about to throw it before he glanced at you and put his hand down.

You drew the curtain back and made a questioning face at him, which only caused him to throw his hand up, insinuating for you to open the window.

You grabbed the crank of the middle bay window, the biggest of the three, and turned it until it was open enough to talk with him.

"What are you doing here?!" You whispered-yelled to the boy below you, who only displayed a shit-faced smirk as he saw you.

You were wearing a fitting tank top, nylon shorts, and a bright pink bonnet—a scene that was way too familiar for Baji. It brought him clarity as he saw that, for the first time in a couple of days, you were facing bright even though your expression was dark as you looked at him quizzically.

"I just wanted to see you. I thought you were with Hina or Emma for a while. You really are a heavy sleeper," he answered, kicking the gravel as he chuckled out his response. His hair was in his all-knowing fighting-style ponytail, blood that may or may not be his, and a snark attitude just for you at this unearthing hour.

You rubbed your eyes and fetched your glasses to get a better look at him. Once you returned, you leaned on your window sill and spoke.

"Yeah, well.. when you have basically nothing to look forward to, what's the point of sleeping light?" you asked, head propped up in your palm.

Baji stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at you with a slight tilt to his head, a light pout to his lips. He looked around, trying to find an answer to lighten the mood.

The streets were empty, with the occasional car passing through. People were either on their way or coming back home from work. Bright orange streetlights shadowed the midnight sky, giving Baji a talking point.

"You normally never miss my calls; if you do, you call me straight back. What up with you, babydoll?" he asked honestly, wanting to understand the scarcity of your two moments.

This sent a countdown in your brain, counting the seconds you were about to have a meltdown or self-implode. What's up with you? More like, what the hell is up with him? Who just randomly ghosts people you claim to be infatuated with? But you digressed.

"What's up with me? Nothing is up with me, Keisuke. It's you. I should be asking that question, considering you act like you don't know what phone or a response is." You answered in a quiet yet tired tone, still putting heavy emphasis on his name.

Being woken up from her sleep was warranted, though her calling him by his name caught him off guard.

You could see the look on his face after you called him his name and not his last name or a pet name, slight appalment, and the look of being taken aback. He couldn't lie; it hurt a little, but his pride was too big to show it.

"First name basis, huh…" he muttered back before standing back up straight and opening his mouth to speak again. "I understand. But can you put off being mad at me for a tad bit longer? We can talk it out, yeah?" he asked, feather-light pleading and a somewhat sincere smile on his face.

"And what makes you think I want to do that?" you asked back, deadpan and with a smirk of sarcasm.

Baji looked back at his motorcycle and then back up at you, clicking his teeth as he insinuated a joyride on it.

“Uhn uhn.. uhn uhnnnnn Baji, no. It's too late, and my mom would kill me if she found out I left to go on a joyride. Especially with you." You gritted through your retainer-ridden teeth.

His bike, Ol' Alessia, was almost as old as Baji. You looked at his bike just about two or three feet from behind him, the memories of your shared laughs, your tears, his sweat and blood, and long conversations flooding your senses.

"Come on, I won't keep you out long—just long enough to fill in the missing time." He begged, a slight smirk on his face, his mischief fang, as you like to call it, on display.

After some thought, you caved and rolled your eyes, strolling to your already shut bedroom door and locking it. A slight prayer to hope for an easy in and out slipped past your lips as you put on your robe and house slippers and came back to the window.

"20 minutes?"

"20 minutes."

You sighed once more and climbed out the window, using the tree next to it as your way down. Once you got on your feet, you avoided Baji and went straight to his bike, putting on the helmet he kept for you.

He got on the bike, pulled it out of its idle stance, and revved it to warm it up. You got on right behind him, your body immediately going to backpack him as he pushed off and started to ride down the street.

The light breeze brought a sense of security that you haven't felt since you've last been with Keisuke. You used to reflect on your non-situation-relationship with him in times like these. Sometimes, he'd be with and around you like a lovesick puppy; others, he'd go with so much without a slight acknowledgment toward you.

You laid your cheek on his back as he made precise turns in your neighborhood, fighting the urge to break the stiff silence between you both. He found you being deep in thought cute, but since it was he who was on your mind, he had stirred the conclusion that it was probably a bad thing.

"I'll give ya a penny for that thought.." he spoke up a while after a mindless 7-8 minutes.

"You can keep your penny. I'm just thinkin'," you responded, perching your chin on his shoulder.

"About?"

"You, me, something I'd normally call us," you mumbled, paying attention to orange-hued streetlights. "It doesn't really feel like it's been that recently, y'know?" you urged.

Rueful silence racked through the air as your question surfaced, and Baji's hand was forced to speed the bike up a little.

"Yeah.. but you know I have good reasons, right?" he wondered, also wanting to see where you stood in understanding.

"No, Kei, I don't." you started, leaning up to sit up straight, "I don't know that you do because you don't communicate that."

He hung his head a little, sucking in his bottom lip. He knew he wasn't (and still isn't) the best at communicating. He wholeheartedly felt awful after Mitsuya and Chifuyu dogged him about it.

He guessed being together and not committed drew a fine line between his girl and his gang. He was together with you, but committed to his gang; thus causing a painful realization. After that brief realization, he got slightly startled out by feeling your hand creep up to his and guide Alessia back onto the road.

"Yeah, I guess I do owe you a lot more than I give you, huh?" he asked, feeling the hell-ridden embarrassment creep up his neck and rest on his cheeks.

"Yeah. I'd like to think so. I mean, for god's sake, Kei. I know we aren't in a relationship, but you can at least have some decency and acknowledge that you treat me more than just somebody. You and I have both admitted that." She ranted, pausing occasionally to push down the urge to cry.

"I don't ask for so much as a 'why, what are you doing, run this by me'… just something. Don't even let me get started because it makes me feel like I'm talking in circles, then I'm wasting my brea-"

"Hey! Hey! It's alright. I hear you." He cut you off, looking over his shoulder at you.

You bit your bottom lip, sniffling a little as you finally caught wind of your word vomit. You shook your head, not knowing what more to say. The silence was filling the space you two as he turned back onto your street, the light cruise bringing you back to a level head.

"Look, it's always and has been about you. I just need to work some things out before I can officially say I'm all yours, yeah?" he murmured, pulling up back under your window.

As much as you wanted to scream and hit him and tell him it was not fair, you understood he wanted to go through the troubles to get rid of them before being with you. And for that, you had to commend him.

"Okay, Baji. I guess I can't argue with that." You answered, taking off your helmet and getting off the bike.

It had been exactly 17 minutes since you left, and you still had 3 minutes to return to your window. Baji had gotten off his bike and came for a hug, wrapping his arms around your neck and bending down to kiss your forehead.

"I'm sorry, ma. I am immensely sorry for not making you feel like a priority, not holding myself up to a higher standard, and leaving you in the mud. It's not so manly and Toman code of me." He spoke, etching his apology into your forehead.

You grinned a little at his formality and apology, hugging him back. You pulled back, looking at his pale brown hue, smooshing his cheeks in your hand.

"I understand. I'll forgive you when I see you change and hold yourself up to what you say. But as for now, come on. I'm not letting you drive back home this late," you confided, motioning for him to help you into the window.

He nodded, boosting you into the open pane, allowing you to climb in and make sure everything was in order. Baji turned off his motorcycle and climbed into your window himself. He looked around, feeling the sense of familiarity creep up on him.

"Hey, while you stand there, close the window." You whispered,-demanded, already back into your tanktop and shorts.

He playfully rolled his eyes as he shut your room off from the outside world, removed his uniform, changed into basketball shorts and socks, and prepared to climb into bed with you.

He followed suit, climbing back into your plush sheets, big-spooning you to give you a tinge of protectiveness. You curled up into his caged arms; his faint cologne that wafted on his wrists seeped into your nose and started to lull you into brief, deep sleep. At least not before you got your final words out for the night.

"Kei?"

He grunted politely.

"Just promise me you won't keep me waiting."

"I won't keep you waiting, n/n. I promise. I want nothing but you. I want your past, your present, and your future." He answered, holding you tight and secure.

You smiled, keeping his promise close to you as he kissed the crown of your head.

And with that, you fell asleep.

silly little a/n!🤭: hey guys! second fic, how we feeling about it? Keisuke Baji is my man so there DEFINITELY will be a lot of fics about him as i write more. Feel free to drop suggestions. i’m open to just about any fandom i’m familiar with. as always, im open feedback and critiques! (though do be nice.). and as per usual; divider by @benkeibear:). reposts are highly appreciated ;).

#baji #tokyo revengers baji #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev fluff #baji keisuke #baji x black!reader #baji x reader #baji x y/n #toman baji #tokyo revengers #tr fluff #tr fanfic

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occasionalsnippets · 7 months ago

Note

Do you have any new fic recs?

Uhh no notes for this time because i'm busy but fic rec part 2 :)

again mix of stuff, gen, romance, x reader, etc etc. some of the crossovers are in random sections b/c i can't be bothered to have a whole separate thing for each crossover

check back in like 2 years maybe for another list

Mashle

Mashig! [Quotev]

Easton’s Prefect Trio and a Round of Old Maid [AO3]

KNY

Determination [Quotev]

Candid [Quotev]

beware the dust devil. [AO3]

The life and times of Kibutsuji Muzan, Bored Immortal Guy [AO3]

the awakening of the demon king [AO3]

BNHA

An Unexpected Training Trip [AO3] [Naruto crossover]

The Future's Keeper [Quotev]

Record of Ragnorak

Ganymede [Quotev]

Obey Me

The Idiot [Quotev]

One Piece

World-Seeing Eyes [Quotev]

Black Butler

my soul, you know it aches for you [Quotev]

Hush, little baby, don't say a word [AO3]

The Art of Mortal Quests [AO3] [Percy Jackson Crossover]

what goes around [AO3]

Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map [AO3]

DP x DC

Unable to Forward [AO3]

The Peacock Chronicles [AO3]

Putting the Joy in Joyride [AO3]

Dead Man Walking [AO3]

If You Give a Bat a Burger [AO3]

Danny the Intern [AO3]

Wait, I'm a what? [AO3

Ghost in the Morgue [AO3]

Bus to Nowhere [AO3]

DC x Marvel

Untangling the Web [AO3]

Help Me, I Don't Feel Like Myself Anymore [AO3]

Spider and Bat Friends [AO3]

Dark Matter [AO3]

Undertale

Ghost Hunting With Skeletons [AO3]

Help, I've Fallen Into a Surveillance State and I Can't Get Up! [AO3]

Turn The Page [AO3]

with you here between [AO3]

bon courage [AO3]

JJBA

passione speedrun any percent (world record) [AO3]

Naruto

Healthy Coping Mechanisms [AO3]

Last Resort [AO3] [DC crossover]

complete disarray [AO3]

Morpheme [AO3]

JJK

limited vision [AO3]

obito and jjk is occupying my brain and in this essay i will [AO3] [Naruto crossover]

TWST

Team Building Exercises [AO3]

You Will Understand Now That Yours Is Unique in All the World [AO3]

Isekai as the Side Character Destined for Intoxication [AO3]

the seven habits of highly unfortunate souls: a transmigrator’s guide to the coral sea [AO3]

Debut or Die

I must debut (or die) [AO3]

RESET [AO3]

Vacation [AO3]

Date or Die! [AO3]

Shokugeki no Soma

and only the bitterness remains. [AO3]

SVSSS

The Cultivating Force [AO3] [Star Wars crossover]

Misinformation [AO3]

Master of Dual Cultivation [AO3]

Scum Villain's White Lotus Halo [AO3]

how to avoid love for dummies [AO3]

ORV

bet i made you look [AO3]

The Reborn Villainess Can't Possibly Be This Cute! [AO3]

One Kim Dokja to Rule them All [AO3]

you got me starstruck [AO3]

“You are loved,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. “This is a threat,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. [AO3]

TCF

black dragons and white crowns [AO3]

THE GOD'S SYSTEM [AO3]

What Lies ahead [AO3]

Amaranthine [AO3]

Treasure of the (Vampire) Duke's Family?! [AO3]

The Distress of the Middleman [AO3]

everybody talks [AO3]

0% Love [AO3]

Genshin Impact

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑 [AO3]

Bleach

living, not breathing [AO3]

The Fourth Seat [AO3]

Indelible Stains [AO3]

半个花瓣 || Petal Fragment [AO3]

Nothing but the Truth [AO3]

Chilled Peaches [AO3]

Not exactly pushing daisies [AO3]

Bait and Switch [AO3]

The Unfought [AO3]

Sight [AO3]

Swinging Pendulum [AO3]

KnB

Ball Is Life, But You Still Need To Pay Rent [AO3]

Tokyo Revengers

all for one [AO3]

if trouble must come (let it come) [AO3]

Marbled Elbows [AO3]

Original

Chain Me Up, Darling [Quotev]

Anomalous [Quotev]

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listentoace · 2 months ago

Text

Hey, I wanted to address a couple of things.

I have been receiving several asks regarding some of my recent posts. I admit they are darker than the usual stuff. That was a decision I consciously made, because I do tend to have darker fantasies and wanted to see how they would be received. I consider most of the criticism I received to be valid points. Here are a few of them:

The whole idea of "ruining yourself"/"ruining your body" as you're gaining weight can be found fatphobic

Connecting feederism to habitual behavior, addiction, loss of control, and even brain damage can be found scary or even disturbing

Encouraging people to embrace health issues (both physical and mental) because of feederism can be found toxic

Constantly connecting feederism and weight gain with the negative side effects (sluggishness and laziness, health issues, societal judgement, etc.) can lead to the conclusion that feederism, obesity, indulgence, etc. are generally bad things

I won't try to defend myself. In fact, I completely agree with (most) criticism I received. The only kind of "criticism" I don't recognize are attacks toward me personally, but that's just reflected in a minority of the asks I receive. To all people who have sent me asks: it's great that you're sharing your opinion and thoughts, and I encourage you to keep doing so!

I think it is necessary to mention again that I don't mean anyone any harm. I am not fatphobic, and I do not mean to force any kinks upon anyone. This is just me writing and recording some horny ideas I occasionally have for those people who are into the same stuff. It is also very important to mention that in many cases, the fantasy of something can be very hot, while the reality of it could be very stressful and traumatizing. This is especially the case with more intense fantasies and kinks, e.g., being kidnapped and fattened. Everything I write takes place in "fantasy land". Nothing I post is meant as a threat, actual encouragement for dangerous behavior or self harm, or other harmful behavior. Pleae keep this in mind!

Getting back to the criticism: Yes, I like the dark stuff. I am very intrigued by the idea of feedees getting fatter for pleasure, despite all the negative consequences that can come with weight gain and obesity. I also enjoy calling people out for it, both with mild teasing and with very direct "you're damaging yourself" claims. I know that this is not everybody's cup of tea, which is why I already tag all posts with darker topics related to self-destruction, severe health issues, permanent damage and even death with "#death feederism" and "#death feedist". This is also mentioned in my pinned info post under "My Content", encouraging people to hide these tags who are not into certain content I post. However, it is quite clear that this isn't a great solution – otherwise I would not be receiving these asks.

I am very open to solving this issue together. After all, it always has been my personal ambition to write and record content for your enjoyment and pleasure. I want to make you – the readers and listeners – feel good and excited. I don't mean to scare or disturb you with my darker fantasies and kinks that don't appeal to you. Nonetheless, I do enjoy causing "holy shit, this is really bad, but it just feels so good!" pleasure and horniness.

In the past, I occasionally made use of trigger warnings at the top of my posts. If I recall correctly, I did hide the main content behind the "Keep reading" button. This was not consistent, but I am open to generally implementing this for all future posts that include sensitive subjects, such as death feederism, consensual non-consent, heavy conditioning and brain damage, or severe degradation and objectification.

However, before I do that, I first wanted to recognize the asks I received and open the conversation by addressing these issues. I encourage you to share your thoughts on this with me in the comments, asks, or my dms. Please let me know whether you think the combination of a trigger warning and a "Keep reading" button is sufficient and reasonable. I will still be tagging my posts accordingly, like I've done in the past, so filtering through hiding certain hashtags will remain an option either way.

I'm looking forward to your feedback and ideas, thank you for the criticism! :)

#venting

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sumaneun-stars · 11 months ago

Text

'Four Seven Two Eight'

Chapter 02 — 'So close but so far'

previous | masterlist | next

Pairing. Jay x fem!reader

Genre. Angst, fluff

Warnings. Swearing, unprotected sex, a whole lot of angst etc.

Sypnosis. You didn't know why your heart shattered, when your one sided love, Park Jongseong, left you in the dark- because he was never yours to begin with. You didn't expect what 2 years could do to a person, especially to him, now completely different.

The 9th of February. He was leaving.

Gripping the railing, you faltered once you caught a glimpse of familiar numbers on a familiar car.

‘Four. Seven. Two. Eight’

Your eyes widened. You scraped the black metal off the railing as you clenched your fists in frustration.

‘I missed him. Again’

A tear ran down Jay's cheek as he found his home vanishing with the passing clouds. And just like that, he set foot in a foreign land. He forced a smile as his aunt greeted him and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thanks aunt, I'll be fine” he sighed. He leant on the closed door, letting himself greet the cold floor.

— 2 years later —

Jay spent his days trying to adapt to a life without you. Soon enough he figured that constantly remembering the life he shared with you would be harder than forgetting you- and so with each step, he erased you little by little.

“Coming!” you replied from your slightly ajar window to the boy waiting outside.

“Bye mom” you said, shoving a toast into your mouth as you made your way to the porch. You didn't hear her reply at your fast footsteps, but assumed it was a ‘take care, dear’.

Almost tripping, you got into his car, earning a bright smile and a greeting from him.

“You nervous?” you asked him.

Sunoo nodded his head without question, making you chuckle.

“You know, we seriously shouldn’t be experimenting your driving skills on the first day of school”

“Oh don’t worry, if we die, we die together” he said, a smug look on his face as he started the engine.

“Awh I really wanted to die with a cute guy by my side though” you mumbled back, earning a playful protest from him.

After your first love left, it took many days to heal and stick the pieces of your broken heart back together. It wasn't until a little boy nudged your shoulder one day that made you realise you had to start over. It was hard, because the only start you knew began with him. So day by day, your social circle expanded with the intention of forgetting him. Your chain of thoughts broke to the halt of the continuous rattle of the car.

“We’re here in one piece”

“Congratulations” you said as you dramatically wiped the sweat off your forehead.

Midway across the neverending, wide staircase of the entrance of your college, you chuckled at your usually chaotic friends from a distance, until-

‘Four. Seven. Two. Eight.

Those numbers…’

“Y/n aren't you coming?” Pushing away your thoughts, you made your way up the stairs.

You yawned at the flashing screen of the presentation that blurred before your eyes. You scoffed at the focused expression on Sunoo’s face, before messily drawing on the side of his book.

Chuckling at your childish behaviour, he snatched his pen and brought his face closer and reflected your actions. Your eyes widened at the familiar sharp jawline before your eyes. He turned to face you, a cheeky smile that reached his eyes forming on his face, as he revealed the hidden dimples.

Your eyes trailed down to the side of his neck, searching for the mark only Jay possessed. It wasn't there. It's not him.

You abruptly moved backwards, startled at your own hallucinations. He wasn't coming back. No- he was never coming back. The confusion written on Sunoo's face didn't go unnoticed by you, but you were grateful that he shook it off.

As you walked out of the entrance, your brain couldn't help but drift into thoughts. This wasn't unusual to you, and you were ashamed of yourself for still holding on to Jay even after so many years. You conclude that you had only locked him inside your heart and not thrown him out.

“Ow!” You winced at the flick on the side of your head in which Sunoo gave with a challenging smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Race you to the car?” He asked. And before he could start, you had already begun to sprint along the paved road.

“Hey! You started without me!” You heard him yell as he caught your pace and then walked over to the driver's seat. You panted as he started the car, but it soon turned into a gasp when the song which was adored by the both of you started playing. The further you drove, the more intense the music became.

“Now everyday it rains, and I'm the one to blame. Baby, I walked away…” you sang to your heart's content, dramatically moving your hands with the rhythm.

“It's God's will to make it rain, why're you blaming yourself? He asked you, sizing you up with a questioning look, followed by a chuckle from the both of you.

As sunoo turned into your lane, you realised his notes were in your room. You couldn't be bothered carrying them to school tomorrow- extra weight on your back too- so why not just give it to him now?

“Just come on in and take it!” You tried convincing him.

“No, I don't want it anymore!” He whined, his cheeks flushing pink.

“What do you mean? We have exams to study for!”

And after two minutes of protesting in the car, you decided to drag him through your front door.

“It's yours, so take it!” you said in between your combined giggles, echoing along the unusually quiet walls of your house.

“No-” you watched him in slight confusion as he looked to his left and bowed with a nervous smile on his face. Your head turned to the direction in which his attention focused on.

‘What the-’

“Mr and Mrs. Park” you stuttered out with a nervous chuckle.

Your eyes fell onto the boy who laid his left leg on his right, and his eyes piercing back and forth on your eyes and your closed grip on Sunoo's wrist.

‘Jay’ you thought to yourself, immediately releasing Sunoo's wrist from your hold.

“Honey, it's Jay. I hope you haven't forgotten” your mother said with a chuckle.

‘No, I haven't. I never did.’

And before you could muster up any words, your mother spoke up once again.

“Oh- Sunoo, dear! Why don't you join us for lunch?”

“Uh-” he exchanged a glance with you. “No- I actually- I need to get going- take care” he placed a hand on your shoulder, patting it with a reassuring smile as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’ and ‘good luck’.

You were left standing there, shock washing over your brain before you were invited to sit across from Jay. His nostalgic hypnotising eyes bore into yours, but the state your brain was in could only muster up one line.

‘I walked away, when you came to stay…

Now everything's grey’

“Why don't you two go upstairs?” Mrs. Park insisted. You nodded with a tiny smile before your eyes asked him to follow you.

“Lead the way” he mumbled, an uninterested expression on his face as he slid his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans. Your eyes slightly widened, taken aback by the unfamiliar rasp in his voice.

A part of you was excited, and you dared hope that you had a second chance with him. You silently thanked the gods for sending him back to you. You opened your room door, playing with your fingers nervously.

You scanned his face in the silent room, hoping to see any lingering past feelings. None. You watched him walk over to your table, observing the open pile of books resting there. You cleared your throat.

“So how have you-” Smiling, you tried to break the silence but got cut off.

“You actually study?” he scoffed, an insulting smirk on his face right after. Your smile faded almost instantly.

“Uhm- yeah. Well, don't you?” You asked, ignoring the slight disappointment you felt at his remark.

He clicked his tongue. “Who does that?” He mumbled, making his way towards your opened window.

You watched him look out, his head in the clouds- almost like he didn't want to be here. Eyes tinted in rage, he turned his attention to you. The excitement was long gone now.

“So little miss y/n got herself a boyfriend now, huh?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

Speechless. That's how you felt. How could he be so reckless with his words? You scoffed to yourself, shocked at his attitude. You watched his dyed silver hair gleam as he ran his fingers through it, eyeing you for an answer.

“He's a friend,” you said, a little irritated.

“Then what was that whisper about?” He interrogated, almost like he was accusing you of something. What was up with him?

Ignoring his words and trying to keep your calm, you switched the topic.

“Do you need anything to drink?” You asked, giving him an empty smile which didn't reach your eyes. Something about him made you lose your patience.

“Thanks babe, but I'm leaving now” giving your shoulder a slight squeeze, he walked towards the door. Confused with your emotions, you ignored the thump in your heart at the statement. Was it possible to feel anger and butterflies at the same time towards a person?

You were dumbfounded. How could a person change so much? The excitement you felt had all been replaced with pure disgust. And instead of thanking the gods for bringing Jay back, you prayed that you'd never see him again, but deep down you knew you didn't mean that. But although the son was rotten, his parents were still pure. Your second parents as always.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, before your body stiffened at Mrs. Park's words.

“Hey since you two are in the same university now, why don't you go together?” She suggested, earning a nervous chuckle from you. “Just like old times!”

‘Just like old times.’

You rolled your eyes to yourself as Jay played an innocent facade in front of the parents.

— 7.54 A.M —

You heard a series of abrupt knocking on the front door, making you chuckle at Sunoo's impatience.

“Give me a second, I'm coming” you shouted in a playfully as you ran towards the door. The smile you wore dropped once you were met with the boy on the other side.

Oh, him. Great.

“What's wrong, babe? Excited to see me?” His leaning figure against the frame of the door asked, wearing a smug look. His silver hair shimmering to the light and left eyebrow raised playfully. The audacity.

You were disgusted at the butterflies in your stomach. What the hell was wrong with you? You pulled yourself together. “To be honest, no” you spat.

You smiled when Sunoo's honking engulfed Jay's next remark, and you walked past him, unbothered (not forgetting to bump him on the shoulder). You can be an asshole if you wanted to, Jay.

“Off we g-” Sunoo got cut off by the loud slam of the door behind him, earning an exhausted sigh from you.

“Sunoo, Jay.”

“Jay, Sunoo.” you introduced.

Sunoo extended his hand with a ‘hi’, but got nothing in return but a cold smile. You felt sorry for Sunoo to have to put up with Jay's antics. The ride to school was silent and entirely uncomfortable. You wanted to sink into your seat. Literally.

You were grateful you could run out of the rattling machine. Or else- run away from him. The whole ride, you could feel Jay's eyes on you. Everytime you looked at the side-mirror, you would catch him sizing you up.

You let out a gasp as a hand wrapped itself around your waist and pulled you to face him. His face was inches apart from yours, a little bit closer and you were afraid that he'd hear the banging of your chest and see right through the mask you worked so hard to build. The tips of his long, silver bangs tingled on your forehead at the wind, sending goosebumps all over. His hawk eyes bore into your startled ones.

“Thanks for the ride. How can I repay you, princess?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Your moans filled Jay's ears as his hands ran over your body, he smirked when your nails dug into his shoulder. He moved back, admiring the marks he had left on your neck.

“Come here, doll” he commanded.

Jay smirked when you walked over to him with your cheeks flushed in red. He pulled you to his chest, kissing the breath out of you. He chuckled when your tongue tried to push itself to meet his. So needy.

He moaned when you shamelessly palmed his length. Jay shoved you backwards and bent you over a nearby table, earning a desperate whine from you.

“Patience, doll” he raised your skirt and slapped your ass.

“Jay, I want your-” you earned another smack.

“Manners,”

With a single finger, he pulled out your panties and bent down to look at your sweet liquid dirtying the floor.

He couldn't help but slide his cock into your long awaited hole. He was out of control. He pulled it back out only to throw his dick back in, thrusting into you at an unforgiving speed. He waited for this for too long.

When his dick twitched, he knew he was close. He thrusted faster, chasing his climax, but paused at the face he noticed outside the door.

The liquid that formed on your eyes glistened from the light of the evening sun- a slight rainbow shielding your vision from the horrible sight before you. You watched his horrified expression as he rapidly untangled himself from the girl he was holding. You tore your eyes away and cursed your heart for being this fragile. You spent so long mending that stupid thing, but it all crumbled in a mere second.

Your fists clenched at the high pitched whining and the shuffling noises behind you. Just like a flowing river, your tears fell, meeting your already drenched cheeks. You barged yourself into the furthest classroom in the corridor, and was grateful that it was empty.

Your body gave in to the nearest table, sitting yourself down and laying your head on your crossed arms. You dug your nails into your palms, creating red crescents on your skin and trying to feel anything but the throbbing pain in your chest. You could draw blood out of rage, but thought the better of it.

‘How could he… how could he be so-’ reality hit you like an arrow through your head.

It was never his fault- it was yours. Your stupid, childish brain who latched onto the pieces of the boy who used to wear formal shirts with matching bow ties.

“Y/n? Hey, you alright?” Your head raised up at the familiar voice and a soft hand on your arm. Without a second thought, you hid yourself in Sunoo's shirt, grateful that he didn't question you.

“If you like him, just say it,” his voice was lower than a whisper.

“What?” you forced yourself to look at him.

“I know you heard, don't lie to me, y/n”

“I-”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You threw a cushion on the couch, frustrated that you were doing this just to host Jay and other random strangers tonight. You hated wasting time on people that didn't matter to you. Jay mattered once… but never again. You weren't going to get swayed by him once more. He can fuck any girl he wants- it was not going to bother you. You were done. You tried to maintain that confidence when you heard the main door open and the voices of your second parents fill the living room downstairs.

‘I'm gonna see his face any second now’

You wore a hollow expression when you saw Jay in his silver chains and his still unfamiliar fashion sense.

“Uh-” he walked awkwardly towards one of the sofas and leant on it.

“Oh, Jay- didn't see you there!” You said cheerfully, cutting him off like he did to you.

Startled was the only word in which he could explain the situation his brain was in. You were… smiling. After all he had done? Why were you smiling at him? And what was with your tone?

He was sure you were crying back in that classroom.

“Y/n, wait!” He yelled, shoving the girl who he imagined as you aside and ran after you silently.

After looking through every square glass panel on the doors, he finally spotted you hunching over a table. His heart ached at the way your body trembled with every sob you let out.

What has he done? You were crying. Again. All he did was make you cry. He was so idiotic to get turned on by that one moment when you locked eyes with him. Not to mention the fuel to the fire whenever he saw you. No amount of jerking off could satisfy him anymore. He needed you. He hated that he couldn't hold you when you were right next to him.

So close but so far.

You needed consoling, but not from him. And so, he let his hand slip away from the handle of the door. Making a run for someone who was not him, he spotted Sunoo in the corridor. Perfect. He couldn't believe the contrast of how he was the only one for you, but now he was pathetically searching for someone else to replace him.

“Hey Jay, you seen y/n?”

“Follow me” he said, grabbing Sunoo's wrist and leading him towards where you were. Sunoo looked at your state through the panel, and before he could turn the handle of the door, Jay halted him by the shoulder.

“You didn't hear this from me”

A/n: flashback to Yuna searching for her pencil Iike her life depended on it at like 3am and turns out it was in her hair GOSH. @yunabi436

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wizardsix · 5 days ago

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I can't remember who said this but there was this one dev who said that when making romanceable characters they have to be attractive in some way (personality, looks, not too morally fucked up etc). and since I read that, the statement hasn't left my mind and I'm very aware now of whenever outside influence and modern discourse get to me or other writers. like just yesterday I found myself rewriting a scene to be more "comfortable" to witness, even though the point was to be emotionally charged and face a difficult topic the character had been actively lying about. but some things can't be glossed over. sometimes it's good when media grabs you by the shoulders and makes you face horrible shit. it's good when media makes you uncomfortable even if it's coming from a ~romanceable companion~. that means it's working. if you remain comfortable forever you learn nothing.

I bring this up bc the veilguard companions are the perfect example and victims of the "romanceable characters need to be attractive" mindset. they don't have ugly sides, they don't fight with each other--and I mean really fight--they don't have controversial opinions or do problematic things. they don't ever question your authority over their lives and why you're the guy in charge. they are nice and perfect and their problems aren't really that serious and can be fixed by simply having a therapy session w rook (bc being possessed or gaining new magic isn't a big deal in a world where previously such events are Very distressing and hard to control). they are further proof that trying too hard to make something attractive has the complete opposite effect if your brain isn't the size of a pebble.

it's overall very frustrating that big game developers continue to be so spineless and I'm not giving anyone a pass for shallow writing, especially from a franchise that is known to have complex characters. none of this is impressive after the first three dragon age games, which were well loved and dissected and debated for years after their release. that isn't to say these games don't have kind characters, having that balance is why I personally like dark fantasy and liked what the dragon age games offered (whenever the writing was good..). it's not dark for the sake of being dark (see grimdark), there's a reason why these things are happening, and in this world no one is completely innocent even if they have good intentions. most people like when their characters aren't always kind or agreeable, bc it's extremely rewarding to finally find that middle ground (of course I have to bring up larian, who made bg3 and proved just how much people appreciate flawed characters, see astarion). conflict is the driving force of a story, no matter what it is. even the most sickeningly sweet cozy slice of life story will have some kind of conflict. it's unavoidable. that's life. taking that away is setting yourself up for failure and all that remains is a boring story full of boring people. no one cares about characters who have their lives together.

(the post is technically over but I wanted to put some final thoughts under the cut bc this got longer than I meant)

I want to go back to the statement real quick... like i do agree, it's true as writers we'll subconsciously (or consciously if you're insecure) try to make our characters appealing, but this is the common trap writers fall into by giving a shit about what others think and want from Their work (which btw I fully believe in writing what you want even if it's "bad" because something with genuine soul will never be as bad as soulless cashgrabs). romanceable characters can and should be as flawed as you'd make any other character, bc trust me there's an audience for everything. even a random npc with two lines will be attractive to someone.

the pressure of an imaginary audience is what pushes writers into a corner and prevents writers from writing and exploring what They want. it's the writer's story first, not the audience's. I think the romanceable companion trap can be easily avoided if writers just 1) grow a bit of a backbone and 2) ask themselves if this is even a necessary or insightful mechanic that will help develop a character further. ask themselves if this character even has the capacity to handle a romantic relationship bc everything else is subjective and it's impossible to appeal to everyone (which apparently this is a controversial take). I won't sit here and pretend that I don't appreciate a good romance, but sometimes all someone really needs is a friend.

obsidian is a good example of self aware devs. they tried to do romance for pillars of eternity 2 bc of fan demand, and it didn't work very well. now for avowed, they didn't explore romance bc they know it's not their strong suit and don't feel it's necessary for this story, instead that time and effort went to developing the characters in other meaningful ways. I have nothing but respect for such a decision bc they know what they want from their story instead of lying and trying to be everything at once. less is more as they say.

#this was supposed to be a small post but . yk how it is #wrote this instead of working on my stupid art projects i am about to walk into the woods and never return i hate college #anyway. enjoy my rambling there's a point in there somewhere probably #nothing against the dev who said that btw i thought it was interesting for them to say since it is true #its hard to not think about the potential audience when creating something but we have to try to ignore them #i think i wanted to say more but whatever this generally covers my thoughts #and i know everything is subjective maybe people Do want their romanceable characters to be attractive and unproblematic #good for you. there's genres for that. but in a dark fantasy setting? some things just don't work like that. genres exist for a reason #i want my companions to be messy mfs not pretty perfect angels #also☝️dont be stupid i don't condone writers having personal agendas and writing hateful things #thats a completely different thing and obviously not what i meant #a writer should always be a neutral observer of their work. nothing else.#bioware critical #six speaks #oh also again... nothing wrong with um 'normal' and kind characters. but when everyone is like that it gets boring. variety ok

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yonaioana · 2 years ago

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Ok so Leon(dark fall) x female reader where the reader is Leon's lover and the demons capture her when they find out about her

I don't know how good it is, i got this request some time ago, i started working on it and today i wrote like more than half of it.

Warning: implied r*pe, side character death, gore, stabbing, blood, angst to fluff

Probably Deus was the first to find out about you most likely if Leon was either sleeping or passed out and he started muttering your name with a small smile creeping on his face, of cours Deus was pissed and went straight to Mephisto who in his small monkey brain was the one who should know everything. As soon as Mephisto found out everyone knows and Beryl enters his yandere mode( I've seen it and if you're reading this you've probably seen it). Everyone wants to find this mysterious person but first they would have to wait for Leon to ask some questions.

Meanwhile..

You were siting at a table with a few friends you made on your journey of finding and getting your lover back. You found out about him being the demon king who dissapeared a few months ago so you and your team made plans to travel all the way to the castle. You started packing food, weapons, potions, healing items, armor, etc. and got going.

They were beyond pissed, Leon was not talking, even after Mephisto forced him to drink some weird potion that was suposed to make him speak the truth he was refusing to talk, biting hard at his lower lip in order to keep his mouth shut. Beryl was holding him by the shoulders shaking him from time to time in hopes he would cooperate before Deus gets impatient.

The road was getting harder and harder as you and your party aproached the castle, the monsters growing in number. When you arrived at the castle you were welcomed by muffled screaming and crying that came from deep in the castle. You got out your weapons and moved forward into the building not knowing what you will have to face.

They all became alert when the doors of the main enterance boomed through out the castle. Deus got up leaving Leon's trembling form into the makeshift bed of the cell. They all came up from the basement to confront the intruders and even though you and your team had trained a lot before coming here the fight ended relatively fast, with you and your friends getting captured and dragged down to the basement. When Leon saw you he gasped and started crawling to the steel bars which made Mephisto realize that one of the people in your party must be the one they were looking for. They started by torturing the males in your party because they assumed you were one of them. You saw a big tall man with white hair and red eyes dragging your sweet Leon aroud like a rag doll while he was crying and kicking at the man's legs and being taken into the cells as you heard the screams and cries of your teamates. In the same cell were two of your female friends, you realised that soon they will be coming for you and even though they took your armor and weapons but you still had some potion bottles in your clothes: one for strenght, two for healing and one for invisibility. You drank the invisibility potion and Beryl immediately noticed one of the girls missing. They all entered the cell to question the girls, and as soon as they opened the door you got out grabed a sword and a small knife and impaled the one that was holding Leon. They all panicked when they saw Deus speuing blood and immediately turned when they heard Mephisto scream and fall to the ground, a stab wound in his forehead. You started feeling the effects of the invisibility potion wear off so you quickly chug the strenght one, as you started to appear again you focused your attention to Beryl ripping the sword from Deus's limp dick body and slicing through his arm also managing to cut a little bit into his chest. Nergal tried to snick up on you but Leon and one of your teamates managed to hold him while you were getting ready to finish of Beryl. Nergal gave up and surendered as soon as he saw Beryl, Deus and Mephisto dead on the ground. You dropped the sword and jumped on your lover giving him a deep kiss. Nergal's face just droped when he saw Leon not only accepting the kiss but also putting his arms around your shoulders. One of your female teamates locks Nergal in the cell and quickly go to the one next door where your male teamates are. Some of them are dead but some are still breathing, you give the healing potions to the ones injured the most. You take one on your back and so do your teamates. You leave the castle with Leon holding onto your sleeve and most of your friends alive.

Once you reached the base you gave your dead friends a proper burial. Now you were lying on your back with Leon wraped around you. He was sleeping soundly yet still holding onto you for dear life, like you were going to just vanish. So you turned to face him wraping your arms around him and burying his face in your chest, placing your chin on his head, you start feeling his grip loosen as you started peppering his head with kisses. You've gotten him back.

#dark fall #leon x reader #dark fall x reader

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whompswhomp · 7 months ago

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sandalwood and ocean water.

Omni-Man x Homelander content includes: fluff, beach themes, grumpy homelander, protective omni-man, kisses, comfort, confessions (etc.)

John hated the beach. Hated, hated, hated the beach. Everything about it, from the overbearing blaze of the sun, the too-loud rush of the waves, the sounds of annoying little shit-eating kids running amok in the distance made his skin crawl. He’d have been more than happy to stay in Vought Tower with the fancy Norwegian air conditioning system and a popsicle or two despite the unbearable heatwave ravaging the city.

Yet, when Nolan had walked into the common room to see most of the Seven draped half-naked across furniture, scorching like ants under a lens in the palace of glass windows that made up their living quarters, he suggested that they all take the day off and go to the beach. The Deep had of course been the first on board, and the others dogpiled on so fast that John’s protests of “No, we’re not going to the goddamn beach,” and “There’s nothing fun about swimming in a giant basin of fish piss,” were entirely drowned out. The damned idiots had run off to change into their swimsuits and pack their bags before he could even blink. “Looks like you’ve lost the vote by majority rule, my dear,” Nolan had teased him, eyes crinkling in that stupidly handsome way when he smiled and leaned down to press a kiss atop his lover’s golden hair.

It was situations like this that really made John wish he didn’t let Nolan get away with shit all the time. One flash of those perfect teeth, one soft look from those gorgeous sky blue eyes, and every synapse in John’s brain that fired in order for him to process and successfully say the word “no” died a miserable death.

“Whatever.” John mumbled, crossing his arms beneath his chest. He tried his best to actually stay annoyed at his lover instead of melting like ice cream in the summer sun at the soft look in his eyes. A look that was reserved only for him– the only warmth in an otherwise endless expanse of ice.

Nolan simply smiled and gestured towards the ocean, where waves crashed gently over the sand. “Join me?” he asked, extending a hand towards John, “A little saltwater and sunlight will do you some good. And there are so many beautiful sights to see underwater.”

John had to force himself not to make eye contact with Nolan or he knew he’d end up saying yes, so he distracted himself by reaching over to the small cooler at his side and withdrawing a popsicle. He shoved half of it in his mouth in one go, wincing a little at the sudden cold. “I’m busy. Go have fun splashing around in the water like a four year old. Don’t be surprised if the Deep starts biting your fucking ankles or whatever.” he grumbled through a mouthful of cherry flavored ice.

Nolan narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, but shrugged and turned to head for the water. “Suit yourself, then. Don’t eat too much sugar,” he told him, and rushed off towards the waves. John rolled his eyes at his comment, reaching for another popsicle once he was gone. He’d make his way through the whole box if he damn well wanted to, thank you very much.

Although he’d told Nolan he didn’t want to swim, John found himself unable to keep his eyes off the sight of his boyfriend in the water. For someone so powerful, it was incredible to see how graceful he was in the water, like he belonged there. He’d dive down towards a deeper part of the water, then resurface, sweeping his dark hair out of his eyes like a supermodel in one of those dumbass commercials. It was stupid how hot he was. No one should be that good-looking, he thought to himself as he blindly reached into the open cooler for another popsicle, having indeed made his way through the whole box in the span of an hour.

However, when his fingers reached inside, whatever they brushed inside the cooler was definitely not a popsicle. It moved. As in, scuttled. He could hear whatever it was skittering around the ice inside. Letting out a very undignified squawk, John scrambled to his feet, overturning the entire cooler in the process and sending frozen margarita pouches and various ice creams and popsicles scattering across the sand. “What the fuck, what the fuck?!” he yelled. Out of the cooler scuttled a small hermit crab, clearly startled by all the commotion. John yelped and climbed fully up onto his lounge chair, curling up as far into the corner of it as he could, as if the thing would attack him. He tried zapping at it with his heat vision, but missed as it began scurrying back into the cooler to escape.

“John! Are you alright?” John heard, turning to see Nolan running up to him with a look of concern. He didn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed, instead pointing to the cooler with a shaky hand. “There’s a crab! In the damn cooler! It won’t leave!”

Nolan stared blankly at him for a few seconds, his expression unreadable as he processed this information. Then, much to his chagrin, he started laughing. Laughing. At him. John wanted to wring his fucking neck. “The hell are you laughing at?! Get rid of it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry my dear, but this is too funny. The great Homelander is afraid of a hermit crab.” Nolan chuckled, picking up the cooler with one hand and reaching in. He pulled the hermit crab out by its shell, the little thing peeking its beady eyes out at John, which freaked the man out even more. “Seriously? This little thing? Come on John, it’s more scared of you than you are of it. It’s kind of cute, even.”

“That thing is not cute! It’s fucking horrifying, get it away from me right now– stop! Don’t bring it closer!” John shouted at him, snatching his sunglasses off his face and chucking them at Nolan’s chest when he got closer with it to try to show him. “Get it out of my face! Nolan! I’m serious!”

“Alright, alright. Relax, I’m just playing with you. It can’t hurt you, you know.” Nolan soothed, placing the crab down on the sand and gently shooing it away. He knelt down next to John, dusting off the fallen refreshments and placing them back in the cooler. He offered the blonde his hand again, getting him settled back down comfortably in his chair instead of folded up against one arm in terror. “Why so jumpy today, hm? I’d expect you to be out in the water challenging the others to a splash fight or something.”

John glared at him, but scooted over to make room for him on the edge of his lounge chair. As much as he hated to admit it, his boyfriend was right. He found the beach to be a terribly overwhelming environment. He was always grumpy when he was overstimulated, and everything about this place made him uneasy. Not to mention that this was his first time ever actually spending time at the beach. Sure, he’d flown high overhead before, but he’d never actually been to the beach. Truth be told, he didn’t even know how to swim. Vought had never seen it as a priority, and especially not since The Deep joined the team.

“It’s nothing.” he insisted, keeping his eyes on the ground. John hated being in unfamiliar environments, especially ones where he wasn’t in control. Although they were few and far between, this was definitely one of them. He couldn’t look like a fish out of water in front of the others. And especially not in front of Nolan. Showing weakness was still not his forte, even though his lover had made it clear that he loved all of him, even the weaknesses he tried to pretend he didn’t have.

“Johnny. What are you not telling me?” Nolan asked, placing a hand on his lover’s thigh. He reached out with the other to gently grab John’s chin, tilting his face back toward his own so he’d meet his gaze. And damn it, he couldn’t look into those eyes without feeling safe. He knew he could share anything with him. Even the parts of himself that he hated most. Especially those parts.

“I don’t know how to swim,” John found himself blurting out before he could stop himself, “And I’ve never been to the beach before. I don’t know if I like it. It’s… it’s new.”

“Oh, puppy.” Nolan sighed, reaching for John’s hands and lifting them both to his lips to press gentle kisses to the backs of them. “Why didn’t you tell me? I know you’re not fond of new places, but this doesn’t have to be so scary. I’m here with you. You know I’d burn the world before I ever let anything in it hurt you.” he said, and his words were so tender that it made John’s heart ache.

The blonde supe sighed, and leaned forward, burying his face into Nolan’s shoulder. As usual, he was so warm, and he smelled like sandalwood and ocean water. It was John’s favorite scent in the world. “I’m scared.” he mumbled.

“I know. But I’ve got you. Come on. Let’s take a dip, hun.” Nolan encouraged, scooping John up gently into his arms bridal-style, as if he weighed little more than a feather.

“Fine. But if you drop me I’m breaking up with you.” John warned him, folding his arms and looking up at him expectantly.

“Then I guess you’d better hold on tight,” Nolan grinned, and bounded towards the water, causing John to cling to him like a disgruntled cat.

He couldn’t have hidden his smile if he tried.

#homelander #my art #fanart #nolan grayson #omnilander #the boys #omni man #fanfic #fluff #invincible #fanfiction fluff #art

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herarcadewasteland · 8 months ago

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Happy Death Day VI

A/N: Purge night. (its been months since ive had the motivation to add to my doc but ive done iiit!)

-SKZ x reader

18+. MDNI THIS IS YOUR WARNING

mature content, violence etc. its the purge. skz lowkey yandere. descriptions of violence and injury. (do proceed with caution for this one, reader goes through it)

----

prev. - next.

previously on happy death day;

“Oh little bunny~”, his tone was condescending, mocking you as you stumbled away from him, “You’ll need to run faster if you don’t want me to catch you~”

Your steps stuttered, arms flailing to stop yourself from falling until you righted your steps, turning away from his dark eyes as he laughed, head thrown back and eyes closed until it snapped forward, eyes narrowed on your retreating figure.

“And believe me, you really don’t want that.”, Jeongin called after you, his steps slowing slightly as his whistling picked up again, the song burned into your brain as a source of fear.

Your fear increased ten-fold as he began singing, your heart stopping as his voice reached you. It caused conflicting emotions. The beauty of his voice made you want to stop and listen but as the lyrics registered, you wanted to simultaneously curl up in a ball and cry yourself to sleep and never wake up.

“Run, run for your life.”

-----

And run you did. Your legs worked as fast as they could, pain shooting through every inch of your being as you struggled to keep a pace fast enough that you felt progress in getting away. His pace stayed consistent as you glanced back at him, his smirk never faltering as he filled the night air with his voice. Your body ached with each step, his shadow growing as you stumbled slightly, arms flailing once again to stop yourself from face planting on the sidewalk for the second time.

“Bunny, you really need to speed up~ Don’t worry. You get one more chance.”, Jeongin’s voice was dark and loud in your ear, his hands planting on your shoulders as he spoke.

You froze instantly, your ears blocking every sound from your head as you tried to focus on ignoring the pain. So focused you hadn’t even seen him catching up to you easily as he walked quietly despite glancing back at him a few times. A sharp gasp pulled from your lungs as he shoved you forwards lightly, his voice surrounding you as you shook on the spot.

“I’d start running again before I decide to not be so nice. Jinnie wouldn’t be too happy with you either then~”

He was mocking you. A laughing lilt to his words as he watched you shake. It angered you, your body turning on the spot to raise your hand and deliver a punch as powerful as you could manage to his stupidly pretty face. The force was enough to have his head turning slightly, your hand lighting up with pain as you stumbled away from him. The growl that followed you had you shivering, the sound matching Hyunjin’s own in danger as you turned to look back at him briefly.

His jaw was clenching and unclenching as his head shook slowly, fluffy hair following the movements as his eyes met yours. Eye contact was a mistake, you decided, the darkness that grew deeper in his eyes taking over the last spot of empathy and compassion you had seen glittering in them before you had the nerve to punch him in the face.

His following laugh echoed in your skull past the other purge noises, his eyes trained on yours even though they narrowed with his forced smile. Your eyes caught movement to the side of you, but the second you turned, a loud bang caused your ears to ring. The sudden pain in your already wounded shoulder forcing you to your knees with the impact. Your eyes watered immediately, hands trembling as they reached for the new wound as the ringing slowly faded, a harsh laugh from the general direction of your driveway sending a new wave of chills through you.

Watery eyes glancing over, you took in Hyunjin and Chan standing under your porch lights with dark looks on their faces, Hyunjin holding his pistol in an outstretched hand. Aimed in your direction. A spark of disbelief flew through you before a hand hit your injured shoulder and you shouted in pain. Glancing up towards the source of the shove, you made eye contact with Jeongin again, his smile gone and rage consuming his usually adorable features entirely. His boot met your back in a harsh shove and your cheek met the sidewalk, a pained huff pushing from your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret ever trying to hurt me, little bunny. Jinnie isn’t very happy with you either. Oh and don’t get me started on our dear leader. You’re in for hell once we get in, bunny. You better buckle up.”

His strong arms wrapped around you, your body jostling on its way up to his shoulder, your leg aching and shoulder sending shooting pain to all minor wounds on your person. It made you sniffle in pain, Jeongin’s laugh sending a whole new round of pain through your body. The new wave of pain was too much for you, your eyes blacking out as you fell unconscious. The sudden extra weight of your body made Jeongin sigh, his eyes meeting Chan’s as he walked back up the driveway.

“You’ll help Jinnie deal with her before Sungie gets his turn.”, Chan grunted as he turned to head back into the house, the other boys waiting for their return with anxious expressions.

Through the anxious expressions, that darkness crept through, their gazes on your unconscious form as Jeongin sat you back on the chair it had all started in. Your head lolled as the boys gathered around you again, Han crouching in front of you with a sympathetic look in his eyes, his silent sorrow going unnoticed as you began to stir, Hyujin scoffing at the pained noise you made as soon as you woke up.

“Maybe that’ll teach you to not try and hurt one of us, hm?”

“We only want to take care of you, bunny. Why do you fight us so much?”

Your head was suddenly cleared of all sleep riddled fog, the pain taking a step back as rage filled you once more. Who were they to say they wanted to take care of you when you were tied to a chair with a broken leg, a stab wound and bullet wound in the same shoulder and multiple cuts and burns along the rest of your body along with previous waterboarding and dehumanizing actions done by them. You should’ve kept your mouth shut, you knew that talking back would only bring you more pain and deep down you did regret what flew from your mouth before you said it, just not enough to stop it from happening in the first place.

“Where do you get off on saying you care about me when all you’ve done is fucking hurt me?! There is no way you’re fucking SANE if you believe I could actually like you or accept you or even want to look at you if I’m alive by seven!”, your breaths were rough, voice hoarse and backed with pain as you shouted at the men in front of you.

A collective growl seemed to echo in your very bones, their eyes piercing through your soul as they watched you seethe in your spot. You made eye contact with the ones in front of you, your eyes lingering on the smile Minho held on his lips before his eyes darted behind you briefly. You scoffed at him, eyes tracing over the others before your eyes met the ceiling, your scalp stinging as the hand in it tugged harder and suddenly you were making eye contact with Jeongin, his eyes as dark as they were when you were on the sidewalk.

“I wouldn’t say things like that if I were you, bunny. We might take it the wrong way and you might end up with a missing finger~”

A harsh pressure on your shoulder had a scream passing your lips, Jeongins' eyes watching your expressions carefully with a small smirk. The smirk irked you, your eyebrows furrowing further as you processed the threat.

“Fuck you. I’ll never love you. I’ll never even like you. You can live in delusion all you’d like but I do. not. care.”, you scoffed at Jeongin, the pressure on your shoulder disappearing until you gathered the last of your courage, spitting at Jeongin with as much aggression as you could muster in the moment.

The silence that followed was the most disturbing one of the night, your body trembling as your own breathing filled the silence, their own not even a whisper in your ears. It was as if they had suddenly left your house, just abandoning their objectives to partake in other purge activities. That was only wishful thinking it seemed, moments later you were on the floor, shoulder pressed to the ground, a hand around your neck, a hand in your hair and boot on your leg as you cried out from the pain. Heavy breaths above you took over the silence as you struggled against their holds, giving up quickly as Felix’s knife was back in your personal space, the cool blade pressing against your neck in place of the hand.

“Watch yourself. I’m going last, doll. You don’t want to push me.”, Chan’s lips were soft on your ear, the threat hanging in the air as all holds on you were released, your forehead resting on the cool floor as you caught your breath from the sudden positioning change.

You huffed at Chan a second later, he had done nothing but slap you a little all night, there was no way you were afraid of him. Jisung on the other hand, you were slightly more afraid of. He had done nothing all night but watch you be tortured. Silent, observing. He seemed pliant yet the look in his eye when you talked back to any of them just reeked a sort of danger that was unknown to you. Unfortunately, that danger was now your thing to experience as Jisung gripped your hair, pulling your torso from the floor with a sharp tug, his other hand wrapping around your injured shoulder gently.

“If you don’t want me to dislocate your shoulder, you’re going to repeat exactly what I say and thank me for helping you say something smart for once.”, his tone was dark, words almost growled in a way you would never expect from him, “Do you understand?”

You nodded weakly, your eyes watering at the humiliation building in your stomach, the intense gazes from the boys making you tremble as Jisung takes a step back from you. Expecting a moment of reprieve, you let out a small sigh, the puff of air seeming like a cough in the silence as everyone paused. Jisung watched you silently before his arm swung forward and connected with your injured shoulder. You shouted in pain, your body jerking back with the force before two hands planted on your aching body to keep you still, a warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as you whined.

“I want words from here on out. If I don’t get you using your big girl voice, we’re going to have problems, okay?” ,Han stepped forward to close the distance that was created.

“Y-yes.”

A breathy “good girl” reached your ears as you were placed back on the chair, your eyes scanning for the culprit to send them a death glare. Only finding Minho’s sharp gaze, you sighed and looked back towards your current assailant. His eyes were focused on yours intently, his tongue running over his lips when he noticed he had your attention back.

“Now, remember to be a good princess and repeat after me. We don’t want more serious injuries befalling you~”, his tone was condescending but by the testing look in his eyes, you knew it was purposeful.

A brief silence consumed the room, eyes switching from you and Han as he watched you intently.

“I suggest you keep your eyes on me if you’d like to get a chance at not dealing with a dislocated, shot arm.”

Your eyes snapped from where they were straying to his, your lips trembling slightly at the reminder of the pain that consumed your every thought. A smile crept across his features as he held your attention, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he was leaning over you, hands on the back of your chair so he could position his head right beside yours.

“Say, ‘I will let you love me because I am made to please you.’ And don’t resist, love. It won’t end well, you know this by now.”

Your body shook in its spot, your eyes watering for the hundredth time as you looked between the boys. Minho watched with a smirk, his eyes as playful as they had been almost all night, Seungmin by his side with his lighter in hand, the flame flickering at your gaze. Jeongin stood to your side, his cheek clear of any sign you had spat at him. Chan stood behind you, his hands running over your back teasingly as you squirmed. Felix and Hyunjin sat huddled close as they conversed quietly although their eyes were on you the whole time. Changbin was the only one you could no longer see, his presence in your kitchen menacing at best as you heard the sink turn on once more.

“I-”, your voice came out weak, “I will…”

You trailed off slowly as Changbin walked back into the room, the bucket full with steaming water that sloshed over the edges as he walked. Han cleared his throat, his hand moving to your shoulder gently as a warning. You trembled harder under his touch before you cleared your throat as quietly as you could.

“I will let you…”, you stared up at Jisung with wide eyes as he stared you down, “let you love me….”

You rushed out the words as fast as you could, the small murmur of conversation from Felix and Hyunjin dying out as Han laughed loudly, his grip tightening on your body.

“That just won’t do, now will it, love?”, he looked around at his group, a false curiosity contorting his features. “Did you guys hear her?”

‘No’’s echoed from around the circle, Changbin stepping up to you with the dreaded bucket of water. His arms raised to throw it on you, his expression blank. A splash of water hit you before you heard Changbins name called, the warmth causing new shivers to wrack your frail body as you cooled off quickly.

“Give the poor kitty a moment to process her words before you punish her!”, Minho called out, his voice just as mocking as it had been all night.

Changbin scoffed but nodded, taking a step back to let Jisung stand in front of you again as his hand gripped your shoulder even tighter, “Now. Let’s try this one more time, love. This is your last chance. Now speak.”

Han commanded you like a dog, your eyes narrowing at him as he met your gaze unwavering. A brief movement caught your attention in the next second, your tense staring contest with Jisung cut short as you realized Seungmin had slid closer to you. You eyed him cautiously, a smirk pulling at his lips when you flicked your gaze to Minho just to check where he was. Not seeing the man in question sent your thoughts spiraling, Seungmin reaching over to nudge Chan and gesture to your searching eyes. The leader laughed sharply, your eyes widening and snapping straight to him as he pushed Jisung out of the way, his hand finding purchase in your hair.

“I suggest you pay attention to Hannie here, doll. He gave you a merciful chance to not get a new injury and you’re just throwing it away! Tsk tsk. Maybe you are just that dumb.”, Chan’s hand left your hair with a harsh shove back, your head falling over the top of the chair uncomfortably with a whimper.

“Y-you’re wrong…”, you coughed weakly, your head raising to stare him down with as much anger as you could muster in your gaze, “I’m not dumb!”

Then, with a sudden and unexpected burst of strength, you pushed yourself from the chair, shouldering your way past Han who nearly fell over from the force of your body colliding with his. Surprised shouts filled the room, a few growls backing them as you sprinted up the stairs the best you could, your leg aching to no end but pushing you to move faster. You couldn’t stay. You had to get out, and you had to get out now.

As you sprinted up the stairs, the boys glanced at each other with similar danger in their eyes, snarls taking over Seungmin and Hyunjins’ pretty lips as you stumbled over a few steps. It was a dumb idea, maybe Chan was right on that part, at least slightly… but you had to try. You wouldn’t go down fully without a fight despite there being eight fully grown and muscled men downstairs. You made it up the stairs, a haunting laugh filling your head as you slammed doors behind you as you weaved through rooms, leaving three open to conjoining bathrooms just in case. You just had to make it back to your bedroom and then you could climb through your window after barricading the doors and run to a neighbor or find a good place to hide until 7am.

Stumbling into your bedroom, your chest heaved with exertion, your arms aching as you pushed your dresser in front of the door. You took a split second to pause, hearing their footsteps ascending the stairs slowly and confidently. That was all it took for you to jerk back into motion, your wounds protesting constantly as you moved your night-stand in front of the dresser, your washroom only accessible from inside your room. You huffed and puffed, staring down your barricade before you fell on your ass, a pained cry crawling from your throat as the dresser shook with the force of whoever was hitting it.

Seungmin stood and watched Changbin body check the door, the lack of significant movement making him laugh as he stopped the other man, glancing around at his group to make eye contact with Chan. A nod was shared between them and then you heard a pair of footsteps leaving, your voice calling out before you could even think to stop it.

“Too pussy to break down a door? Pathetic.”, you emphasized it with a scoff, eyes widening quickly as you covered your mouth.

The sudden silence from the other side of the door shook you to your core, your arms trembling as you pushed yourself up from the floor. You looked around your ransacked room, trying to remember where you had put your pepper spray and small dagger for emergencies. The continued silence registered in your head a moment later, a gasp leaving you as you turned to face the door.

Hesitantly you called out, “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it-”

“Shut up while you’re ahead, bunny. You won’t be getting any more chances once we get you out of that damned room.”, Jeongin growled through the door, a solid hit on the wood sending you into motion to search for your self defense.

“I never wanted any of this!”, you shouted back to cover up the noises of your rummaging, “Just leave me alone and we can pretend this never happened! You can stalk me if you want, I don’t care anymore! Just-”, you paused, your hands trembling as you stared into the empty drawer where you were certain you had housed the items you were looking for.

“Looking for these~?”

You spun around instantly, injuries protesting once more as you faced the man who sat casually against your desk. He held your pepper spray and dagger in his pretty hands, thin fingers twirling the dagger as he tossed the spray into the air before catching it and waving it at you. A pout graced his lips before he smirked at your clear shock, pushing off the desk to crowd you against your bed, your knees buckling when you hit the edge. You fell with a light huff, your eyes on the offending items.

“L-look I wasn’t gonna use those on you guys! I-”

“Shhhh, lovely. We know you couldn’t possibly be that dumb! To try and use pepper spray on us? Or even stab us?”, he chuckled, his voice reaching the others outside the door, their silence broken as an ax cut through the wood beside the door knob, “No, of course you fucking wouldn’t. So, what were you gonna do once you got your cute little hands on these, hm?”

Han watched your wide eyes grow glassy, a new set of tears trailing over your dirtied cheeks as he watched you. The dagger spun menacing circles in his hand as you jumped with each crack of the wood under the ax, a large hand punching through it to fumble for the doorknob to unlock it. You snuck a quick glance at the man above you, his hand loosened around the pepper spray with the distraction. You took as shallow of a deep breath as you possibly could, your uninjured arm shooting out to rip the spray from his hand, his eyes meeting yours before they closed in pain as you hit the trigger on the small bottle.

He grunted loudly, curses falling from his lips as the door rattled, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you rolled off the bed, heading to the open window. Your hands hit the window sill, your breaths loud and uneven as you looked down at the backyard, orange lighting up the sky as fires burned and guns fired. Pushing yourself up, you swung a leg over the edge, your eyes trained on the grid of vines that led to your window. Before you could make a move to get down, a piercing pain bloomed in your already injured arm, your eyes trailing slowly from the veined hand hovering near you to the handle of your dagger sticking out from your arm.

The door slammed open a second later, the weight of their eyes on you before a calm command hit your ears muffled, Chans’ eyes dark and determined as he waved at you. Confusion flooded your mind past the pain until the same veined hand pushed you out of the window. You gasped at the sudden loss of structure underneath you, Felixs’ slightly guilty smile greeting your eyes until your arm caught on the grid, flipping you around and sending more pain through your body as you crashed against it.

The motion had you leg bleeding once more, your ankle twisting painfully as it caught on a vine and halted your plummet for mere seconds before it snapped and you were falling again. Your fall stopped painfully and abruptly as you hit the small hedge below the vines, the small sticks digging into your skin in all the wrong places as you struggled to remove yourself. A gentle hand on your arm helped you from them, instincts telling you to thank you.

“Th-thanks…”, you muttered, pain shooting through your arm as the knife left it and you suddenly remembered where you were, your panicked eyes making contact with Minho’s overly pleased ones.

“Awe, I knew you could be nice! It wasn’t that hard after all was it?”, his smile was nothing but sharp as he watched you glance down to your bleeding arm, your legs giving out beneath you and sending you face first into his solid chest.

A voice sounded from your window, Minho’s hand in your hair suddenly as he dragged you through your yard. Seungmin met you at the door that connected to your kitchen, your head shaking from side to side as much as it could with the grip on your hair.

“No nonononononononono.. No no-”, you muttered frantically, eyes wide and desperate as you twisted in Minho’s hold the best you could with your legs not working with you.

No acknowledgements were given to your mutters, the suddenly full sink and temporarily blinded Han being nursed with a bowl of milk creating a whole new panic within you. Your mind practically shattered, your mutters becoming shouts and swears as the boys watched you struggle against their second oldest who slowly released his hold on you, watching with the others as you crumbled to the floor in a heap of blood and tears, your hands trembling against the floor as the sobs shook your entire body violently.

“Get her up, get her clean and get her comfy. It’s time to let her rest. We have 2 hours left, take one for her to calm down and the other? We can finish this off like we want.”

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