#to die because of your job. and you had no idea. what could you do? it was your job. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

2demondogs · 16 hours ago

Note

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #neutralreader #arthur morgan #ask #oneshot #fluff #sfw #rdr2 #reader insert #proposal fic

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dunsbar · 11 days ago

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the magnus archives is a podcast about the horrors of having a job

#and not even just the archives i mean. like every other statement is a look into a different career and the horror extracted from it.#im rlly interested in the fact that a lot of people giving statements have very unglamorous jobs (waste collector/cleaner/exterminator etc)#or are otherwise explicitly working class and live mediocre lives or have fallen on harder times. the cracks in life where the bad seeps in #even a lot of the ppl with fancier hobbies or jobs are often criminals or doing illegal activity. just the way societys laws create gaps #for the bad things to get us. and of course the ARCHIVES where you are stuck in a dead-end job that is actively ruining your mental health #and you literally cannot quit like physically no matter how bad it gets and your boss is the most evil person ever and you are fated to die #to die because of your job. and you had no idea. what could you do? it was your job.#tma #the magnus archives

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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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Can we get a part 2 of when reader asks satoru and suguru if they fucked before

of course ml!! tysm for asking <3

part 1 here~

contains: fem reader, fluff, crack, choking, hair pulling, anal sex (gojo gets fucked) spanking (geto spanks gojo once), dirty talk, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint, dare i say sub satoru, sub/dom dynamics if you squint, suguru and reader are competitive, u tag team gojo together

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“so, when we’re you guys gonna tell me you’ve fucked before?” you asked, raising your eyebrows

gojo froze in place, pausing his efforts to get a towel to clean you up, he slowly turns to you, faux innocence on his stupidly pretty face, a big hand coming to rub the back of his neck

both you and geto stare at him, a smirk plastered on sugurus handsome features, heavy hand holding up his head, awaiting his response,

“now what on earth put that idea in your pretty little head?” he questions, hand falling on his hip sassily as he does an absolutely awful job lying

“oh i don’t knoww,” you drawl, pretending to think, “maybe geto telling you he was going to fuck you like it was the most normal thing in the world,” you scrunched your nose, shrugging

“but what do i know!” your eyebrows raised, suppressing a smile,

“nothing, you know nothing,” he replied, wiggling his finger back and forth in front of him like a child

“don’t tell me you forgot satoru, you might hurt my feelings.” geto teased, from his place between your calves, tilting his head to the side, “i know we were a little tipsy, but you told me i was an unforgettable fuck.” he pouted, faking offense, “you weren’t lying to me were you?”

satoru’s hand still on his hip like the sassy man he was, his mouth just flopping open and closing like a fish out of water, trying to think of a quick retort but failing to come up with anything, because the raven haired man was right

he was a truly unforgettable fuck

“now my feelings are hurt, he didn’t say I was an unforgettable fuck..” you pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest,

“your mouth almost sucked the soul out of me,” he echoed from the hall

he had taken the opportunity of getos attention on you while he was ‘consoling’ you to slip out of the room, walking back in with a few damp towels, “course you’re an unforgettable fuck, way more than that monkey brained freak,” he hisses at geto, sitting next to you on the bed, using the warm towel to wipe his cum from your cheeks,

“oh? really?” geto let his head fall from his hand, landing against your knee, squinting his eyes at satoru while the blonde continued cleaning down your body, wiping up any fluids the two men had left

“think i remember making you cum..how many times was it again? 4? you were shooting blanks before i was even done with you” he smiles, rubbing your knee fondly with his strong hand while staring at gojo challengingly,

gojo looks away from your breasts, staring back into geto’s deep brown eyes,

“n they only made you cum once..” suguru mumbles into your knee,

“woah! woah, okay, I didn’t know i was competing with you in the first place!” you defend yourself, front half of your body shooting up, making gojo sigh as you accidentally knocked his hand back, “‘s not about quantity anyways, it’s about quality” you said smugly,

“n toru here, said I almost made him die so id say my quality is michelin star,” you proclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him before gojo pushed ur torso back down,

“i’m surrounded by a buncha babies jesus christ,” gojo shakes his head, pulling your leg out of sugurus grasp to access your leaking cunt better, pressing the harsh cloth against you and wiping you as gently as he could,

“sorry,” he winced for you in sympathy when you groaned out a protest, trying to close your legs on his hand at how painfully sensitive the rough towel made you feel, “anyways, you’re both good in bed, kay?” he continues,

“when suguru fucks me, it feels like my fucking guts are getting all messed up to make room for his stupidly big cock,” looking up through his lashes at sugurus smug expression, then back down to focus on what he was doing before making eye contact with you,

your arms still crossed over your chest, “n your throat squeezes me so fucking good i thought i was seein the pearly gates,” hand coming up to pinch your cheek, discarding the towel somewhere on the floor, standing once more to look for someone’s shirt on the floor he can put on,

“ ‘fucks’ as in you’ve had sex multiple times?” you stared in disbelief between the two of the large men, before settling your eyes on suguru

continuing your teasing you spoke up again, “and my compliment still sounded better,” you challenged him, a smug looks gracing your features

“you think so?” the raven haired man scrunched his eyebrows together, before turning his head to look straight at gojo’s supple bent over ass as he picked up a shirt and started to pull it over his head, “well, only one way to be sure which of us is really better.” he says to you quietly before standing

coming up behind gojo and grabbing his raised arms, preventing him from putting on his shirt, “hold that thought satoru, we’re in the middle of a little debate right now” yanking the shirt from satoru’s hands and throwing it back to its prior home on the floor,

“think you can help us? hmm?” he whispers, right into the shell of his best friends ear, sending goosebumps down his neck, “we’ll make it worth your while.”

———————————————————————

almost two hours later and the three of you were still in the same room, on the same bed,

gojo on his back, suguru fucking his cock right into his prostate as you face gojo, bouncing on his overstimulated dick, a thick ring of yours and his combined cum on the base of his overstimulated cock,

“c-cant cum anymore p-please- haaah- fuck please!” gojo whimpers out, thrashing his head back and forth on the sheets as fat tears drip down his face, making his cheeks shine under the light, “‘s too much ‘m too sensitive, ohmygodd” he drags, curses spilling from his lips one after another, his hold on your grip sure to leave nasty bruises as his hips fuck into your warm cunt without his brains permission,

“not till you tell us who’s better,” geto emphasizes with a heavy thrust, hand coming up to choke you out while he gives gojos poor hole the meanest treatment,

“‘s me right? ‘ve made you cum inside me so many times.” you slur, voice strained from getos rough grip on your throat

“bold of you to think that was your doing,” geto scoffs at you, “cmere,” he pulls your head back to press your lips together, other hand interlacing with gojos on your hip

satoru whines underneath the two of you, watching you makeout and feeling your cunt pulse around him because of suguru’s expert tongue work in your mouth had him spiraling

your hands coming up to grab geto’s wrist while he hums into the kiss, biting your lip between his teeth and pulling on it, letting it go before he chases after it and connects your lips once more

“‘m gunna cum again- please fuck- nggghhh i c-cant cum again,” gojo whines, squeezing getos hand and your hip for support as he’s falling into yet another orgasm and fast,

suguru pulls away from the kiss, releasing his grip on your neck as he pushes your lower back down twords gojos chest, “yes you can,” he growls

the raven haired man grabs your hair by the roots and pushes your face into satorus, “help him through it baby,” not needing to be told twice, you grab gojos cheeks with both your hands and slot your lips against his,

“mmmmph- mmm- can-t- p-please i-“ his protests being cut off by your lips, not letting him catch a breath

“got you, cmon” you comfort him in between your assault on his lips, geto reaching between his bestfriend and your body, finding your neglected clit, and rubbing sloppy circles on it, helping you get closer to your own high

“right there with you,” geto grits his teeth, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and tip his head back, so he can watch the show unfolding in front of him,

“gonna fill up this tight ass while you cum inside them, okay? and you’re gonna take everything we give you, right?” geto’s hips losing their rhythm, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm

gojo just whimpers into your mouth, hes trying to speak, he really is, but it’s all too much, he’s completely fucked out

“need to hear you say it satoru,” he emphasizes with a mean thrust, fucking impossibly deeper into his tight hole,

getos hand rubbing sloppily on your clit almost becomes too much, “yes! yesyes please ohmygod- gonna take it- shit-“ gojo’s whiney voice gets out just before he feels your cunt start to squeeze him,

“toru! fuuuuck me!” you whine, the blondes hips mindlessly fucking up into you helping you ride out your high as he cums so fucking hard, bordering on painful as spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you once more,

and he’s gasping, barely coherent broken moans of both of your names on satoru’s tongue

geto not far behind you as he stills, balls deep inside gojos ass, the last push he needed seeing the two of you cum all over each other,

“yesssss fuuuuck” he clenches his teeth together hard, toothy grin emerging on his face, finally letting his head fall back, eyes following suit, rolling to the back of his head, “take it f-fucking t-take it.” fucking each rope of his cum deep into gojo’s ass

all three of you bask in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms, core clenching and unclenching around gojo’s length as you finally come down, picking your head up from gojos neck and smiling at his current state,

he was sniffling and gasping, red faced, tears decorating his lashes, making them look like glitter, he appeared more fucked out than ever

geto behind him slowly pulls out his softening cock, and gojo lets out a long groan of overstimulation when he does so, digging his fingers into the fat of your sides and wincing, “fuck, please don’t move yet, might pass out if you do” he says to you, his poor dick crying for relief, still snug inside your pussy, twitching every so often against your walls

you giggle, peppering kisses all over his face, he lets his eyes shut, finally relaxing a little as he relishes in the feeling of your soft lips on his skin,

suguru coming around to sit by his head

when you stop your assult of kisses on his porcelain face geto grabs gojos cheek furthest away from him and makes him turn his head into his thick thigh, “so,” geto starts, rubbing his thumb on gojos cheek, “who was better?” he asks, cocky smile finding home once more on his face

gojos eyes shoot open, looking at him slightly panicked, squeezing your upper thighs for support before he speaks, looking back between the two of you,

“i….im afraid if i don’t answer we will never leave this room.” he gulps

geto confirms his fears, tilting his head to the side, face sporting the fakest smile of comfort gojo has ever seen, “you would be absolutely right.”

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ridingthatd · 11 months ago

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○o｡ MASTER TOJI

○o｡ tojixfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, master toji, toji is kinky, possessive toji, old days toji, filthy toji

toji fushiguro. toji fushiguro was a known master, a master who's job was to go after wanted man-woman whether they're bad or not, his mission was to kill them brutally and get their head to whoever paid him to kill them- their head as a proof, a proof of what he's capable of doing.

toji is known for his cold and calculating personality, which makes him intimidating- he does not hesitate to use his immense strength and powerful cursed techniques to defeat his enemies.

but then there's you- you who has him in your gentle little hands, your soft hands that always try to release the knots on his back- but always fail because of how small they are, compared to his muscular board back.

toji adored you- adored everything about you, from your long crazy curls, to your plumpy thick thighs that he always love to leave his marks on. you drived him to break a line he never thought he would break, he was a jealous- possessive man with you, he wants to be the air you breath everyday, he wants to be the only reason why you smile, the only person who can see it, who can hear your sweet giggles- your hideous laugh that he would die for,

he was such a jealous man, he wants you all for himself, he doesn't want anyone to be part of why you're happy other then him- toji knows and he's aware of how mentally deranged that is but it was very much how he truly felt.

he such a possessive man, that he wouldn't let you pleasure yourself- he doesn't want the sweet honey that comes out of your cunt go to waste, he only wants you to cum on his huge cock or his tongue, squirt on his face as you stroke your wet cunt on his nose- ridding it as he licks-coat your pinkish asshole with his spit.

it even got to the point where he made you a dildo to the exact shape of his cock, so you can pleasure yourself with it while he's gone to a long mission- he would always use it to stretch your ass to, while he pounds inside of your cunt, making you pass out from being to stuffed in both of your holes by his cock.

it's been a whole two weeks since toji last saw you, and it got him into a bad temper- a really bad one- he only could receive letters from you, telling him how much you missed him and your sweet cunt needed your master.

today was the worst day so far for him- and it's like you knew that, because as soon as he made to the cabin he was staying in, he received a letter from you, and it was heavier then usual like it contains something- toji frowns confused on what would his sweet angel send him.

his cock harden poking out his kimono, eyes dark as he clenchs your red wet panties, he looked at what you wrote in the letter and he shudders, wave of pleasure hitting his body, making his thighs shake and his balls to release his seeds, cumming- cumming untouched.

~ dear master.

I know that you have been having a really hard time so I decided maybe I should send a little gift of mine, sorry for the mess on the panties, I couldn't help but squirt on them as I imagine you being here with me while I fuck my ass with the huge dildo of yours.

from your dear y/n. ~

"little fucking slut" he groans out as he grabs the wet panties to his tongue and suck-lick on your sweet cum as he free his leaking cock stroking it hard- tugging on it fast.

his cabin was filled with his pathetic moans- his mind is blank, drugged on the taste and smell of your panties- he was filthy for you, so filthy that he places your panties on top of his cock- stroking his cock with it, using your left wetness as a lube, he can't help but jerk his hips up- to lost in pleasure as he spills his hot seeds in your panties, moaning out your name.

he lays on his bed- this was the best orgasm he had in those last two weeks, he looks at your ruined panties and slowly smirk at the idea he had in mind.

you stare at tojis letter and the suprise he left you- eyes widen as you take a look at the red panties you sent him- not even red anymore it was filled with his cum, clearly showing you a sign that he very much enjoyed your gift.

~ dear y/n.

my love, I was very pleased with your little gift, I expect you to be spread wide open as I make my way to our house tomorrows afternoon, don't forget to plug your sweet ass with the dildo. enjoy my suprise.

from master toji fushiguro. ~

toji came as he promised, as he makes his way toward the door of the bedroom, hands placed inside of his kimono- while his cock was raging hard more than ready to breed his little filthy slut.

and here he finds you- on the bed spread wide open, your poor little cunt was wet and drenched with your sweet honey, twitching- clenching around nothing craving the cock of her master-

you clearly came from having his cock dildo shoved fully up your little hole as he told you. such a good girl.

"my poor little baby did you cum from having this pathetic of a dildo up your little ass?" he coo at you as he strokes your curls out of your face- your fucked out face, you had been waiting for him for awhile now.

and his cock has also been aching for you for awhile now.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

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almostfoxglove · 2 months ago

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BLOCK PARTY

written for @auteurdelabre's TROPE OFF! challenge & a special thank you to @jolapeno for coming up with this idea - ilysm!

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 4.6k | TROPE: FAKE RELATIONSHIP CW: Tooth-rotting fluff, so much soft!joel, a tiny bit of protective!joel as a treat.

SUMMARY: After your ex moves into the neighborhood, Joel offers to pose as your boyfriend at the annual block party. It shouldn't be hard to pretend for a night, since he's hopelessly into you.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

Joel remembers the day you moved into the house on the corner perfectly—that orange craftsman with the cute triangle yard and a pergola on which the last owners let their wisteria die, left empty for nearly half a year. He’d just gotten home from a job, sweat-stained and spent, desperate for a shower when he’d heard the hum of an unfamiliar car. He’s not curious by nature, keeps happily to himself, but that day he found himself spying out through the picket of window between his curtains, wondering who it might be.

Thank god he did.

Thank god, too, that no one else bought that house. Has a little wrap around porch, a red door. Whole block wanted it—hell, Joel even heard the couple left of him consider it one evening. We could sell, one had said, hushed and conspiratorial, then buy that one.

But they didn’t, and a few weeks later you and your beat-up hatchback rolled up into the driveway, gifting Joel one measly glimpse of the back of your head as you rushed inside. No sight of you the next day; you kept the curtains drawn. But two evenings later a moving truck squealed up the quiet street and Joel, well. Joel happened to be near the windows when the truck happened to stop outside your orange house and happened to catch a look at you slogging down from the porch to roll up the back of the van with a distant grunt, unveiling your boxes and towered belongings.

He was pretty much a goner right then, right there.

Because you looked miserable, an Atlas lugging the world on your shoulders. Dark shadows clinging to the hollows of your cheeks. Your hair pulled back and greasy, your t-shirt a size too big, puddled at the hem with a stain. And maybe he’s getting soft or was from the start, because against his better judgment and the complaints of all his tired joints, Joel jogged out of his house and right on up to you. Offered to help you carry it all inside.

Took an hour to trek the boxes in, twenty minutes to tetris the couch, and another thirty for the rest of the furniture. One lampshade broke, for which Joel will never forgive himself but you swore it was fine, insisting it wasn’t one you liked, that it belonged to an ex.

The whole evening sped by and bruised blue, and Joel’s stomach sank just a little when it was done. Though his body howled and ached, he wouldn’t have minded if it’d taken eight more hours to haul all that shit into your house. Might’ve offered to help you unpack if that wouldn’t have been a creepy thing to do. But you shook his hand in thanks, gave him your name and a stiff smile, promising him dinner, or muffins, or whatever the fuck neighbors do as you walked him to the door with the urgency of a vampire who has only a few minutes left to black out all the windows and doors before sunrise. Hurrying him out, wanting to be alone.

When his own front door was latched, the house dead in its quiet, Joel swore to himself that once you got settled, he’d find some way to tell you that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, that the caw of laughter you let out when he’d dropped the foot of your couch on his ankle was the best fucking sound even if it did bruise purple and green, that all the furniture you own is somehow perfect and warm and exactly what he’d never think to buy but would love to come home to, and that just shaking your hand made him feel like a kid again. That he’d pretty much do anything to be the one who puts a smile on your face.

But you’ve lived across the street three years now and he’s never told you.

Can’t now. It’s too late. You’re friends.

And anyway, these days you smile plenty on your own; you don’t need him. Took the better part of a year, but you perked up. Transformed that triangle yard into an Eden, built trellises for sweet peas and tomato vines. Every year, bushels of strawberry plants bloom in summer and rows of squash unfurl in autumn. Stalks of bulb plants flower every month right on cue. Your birdfeeders never vacant, the little wooden house driven into the yard on a stake dizzy with mason bees in spring.

Three years after you moved in, no one would ever believe Joel if he told them how you’d looked that first day. Her? Can’t picture that girl sad. Her? The one who’s always smiling? You’re messing with me.

Now, both of you swaying on his porch swing—looking out into the rutted wasteland of backyard he swears one day he’ll landscape—Joel watches that old shadow cross your face as you lift your lemonade to your chewed-up lips. He can see it. The light in your eyes swishing dark like you’ve drawn the curtains. For three years he’s watched you build yourself up, coax yourself into the sunshine, only to have it extinguished by your ex—an ex who’s moved in just five houses down.

It might kill him to see you like this again.

Joel might kill the bastard just to prevent you any more harm. Burn that goddamn house to the ground. He’s glad that he broke that lamp when you moved in. Not that he says.

“C’mere,” he says, stretching out one arm, and without hesitating—without even turning your head to look at him—you sink against his side, cheek squished to his chest. A torture and miracle, the gift of your touch. How you have, over the years, decided to trust him.

“Of all the fucking neighborhoods to—” you start to say, but your voice cracks, betrays you, and there’s a jagged edge to your next breath that makes Joel’s whole body yank with pain. “Of all the fucking neighborhoods for him to choose.”

“I know, darlin’,” Joel mumbles, resting his chin on the crown of your head. Praying he doesn’t imagine the way your body deflates at his touch.

“Block party’s gonna suck,” you sigh, and if he closes his eyes Joel can almost imagine that this is something that it’s not. That if he wanted to, he could kiss you right now, touch you properly. Pet and lick and fuck every thought and worry right out of your head. That your heart’s racing even half the speed his is right now.

You must hear it, he thinks—with the shell of your ear resting so near that traitorous organ—but if you do you don’t say a word.

Joel squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t gotta go alone,” he says.

This stiffens your shoulders, holds your breath. You peel yourself from his side and evening sun paints your face orange as a clementine, gilds your eyes with tendrils of gold. Your brows pinch together so sweetly, curving down above your nose as a laugh rises to your lips. “Right,” you chuckle. “Sure.”

“I mean it,” Joel says, and takes his arm off you to sit up straighter, rocking the swing. “Could go together.”

He’s not sure why you look so surprised. You’re friends. You go places together. Lunch, the movies, to the grocery store. Shit, you drove him home loopy from the dentist after they cracked out his wisdom teeth. Took photos of him after you waddled him into his house, drugged up and chipmunk-cheeked. Relished showing him every snapshot for weeks afterward, giggling and pinching his face until he blushed.

Going to the annual block party together seems a hell of a lot more neighborly than that.

“What,” you say, still smiling at him like he’s crazy. “And you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend?”

It’s possible Joel’s heart stops. All his thoughts certainly do. All sound, reasonable logic floats away until all that matters in the world is your face, your gob-smacked smile. The dissonance of what he was offering and what you heard.

“If you want,” Joel hears himself say.

And that’s that. He digs his own grave.

If anyone was around to see Joel’s face when he first lays eyes on the guy, they’d probably assume you used to date the devil himself. Jaw grinding, arms crossed tightly over his chest, every nerve flayed and hair on end—doesn’t seem to matter how much you assured him that your ex isn’t a bad person, Joel hates the guy. If he were a younger man, as reckless as he’d once been, he’d knock the guy on his ass for daring to step foot in the neighborhood, let alone buy up a place.

You’re with Joel in your front yard showing off the mason bees that dart in and out of their paper tubes when something flickers in the corner of Joel’s eye—a man running on the sidewalk, earbuds in, sweat pooled in a V on the front of his t-shirt. He does a double take at the sight of you.

Joel squares his shoulders.

The guy comes to a jogging halt, pops an earbud out as he calls your name, and Joel’s heart might rip clean out of his chest when your face falls at the sound of his voice, all the pride in your smile snuffed in the blink of an eye. You turn so slowly. Wave a little sheepishly. “Hi.”

“Do you—” the guy starts to ask, his bright eyes flickering between you and your orange house.

You nod. “Three years now.”

His eyes damn near pop out of his skull—this, at least, is one small comfort. He had no idea you lived here. He’s not following you or nothing. As you rub the back of your neck, suddenly quiet, Joel hears your voice in his head saying, You’ll pretend to be my boyfriend?

Guess that starts now if you wanna sell it. At least that’s what Joel tells himself as he takes a small step closer and settles his hand on the small of your back over your t-shirt. Swears he can feel your every tiny twitch beneath his palm, every degree of your body heat. There’s just one second of lag before you inch closer, too, making a shrew of his nervous heart. Blood races in his veins; his stomach turns to molten gold.

A twitch snags in your ex’s cheek and Joel’s lips tighten, fighting back the smug urge to smile. Tucked against his side, you look up at Joel and he can’t help feeling like next to you is exactly where he belongs. Perfect, you smile before drawing your eyes away, and slip your arm around his waist.

“Sorry,” you say, grinning in a way Joel’s not seen you manage since this jackass showed up. “This is Joel. My— uh—boyfriend.”

Maybe heaven is one beautiful lie.

Joel must be a greedy man, because he slips his hand up your spine to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s either the best or worst feeling in the world, the way you don’t resist for a second. The way you melt against him, your hand gripping at the hem of his t-shirt over his hip.

“Right,” says your ex, still doe-eyed when he meets Joel’s blackened stare. “Clark. S’nice to meet you, man.”

Joel hmphs , gives him fuck all but a stiff nod, and for just one second you turn your face into his chest like you’re trying to smother a laugh. Pride has never filled him quite as quickly as it does now, knowing he’s the cause. That he’s put that smile on you, making you bite your bottom lip. He’s the one who’s made this gentler on your heart.

When Clark takes off again, you and Joel wait until he disappears around the corner to withdraw your arms, then you break into stomach-y laughter, smothering your face in your hands. “Oh god,” you wheeze, your whole face split by joy. “His face. That was—shit, that was incredible. That felt so good.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Joel looks out into the empty street to hide his blush, focusing on the golden light of August’s showboating. It’s a perfect evening, oak trees gossiping in the balmy breeze. It’s small, sure, but knowing he’s made you feel so good sets him on fire, fries his brain. He wants to make you say so good, so good, so good, in every possible way.

You snort, you’re laughing so hard.

“Happy to be of service,” he mumbles.

“Jesus,” you go on, and he turns to find you’re wiping your thumbs under your eyes. “That felt so much better than I thought it would. I think you might be a genius.”

Sure, genius. That’s the word for it.

On the day of the block party, you ask Joel to creep across the street at the break of dawn, insisting that people could be setting up, and, wouldn’t it look weird if we didn’t come out of the same house? We have to look like we’re sleeping together, dumbass. He only managed to restrain himself from suggesting that he just sleepover by the skin of his teeth, so tempted by the thought of being close to you at night—even isolated on your couch, so many doors away from your dreams.

But he’ll take the morning. He does. As early light sets the asphalt ablaze, Joel slinks across the road to your house, finds your front door unlocked, and lets himself in. Inside is cold like winter, the air-con cranked, and you’re on the couch in a sweater that’s cuffed at your wrists, coffee smoking in your hand, your legs folded up beneath you, bare.

“Morning,” you say, when you see him, a kind smile on your lips.

Joel shuts the red door behind him, clears his throat. “Mornin’,” he says.

There are hours until the block party begins, so you and Joel kill the morning on your couch watching shitty TV and drinking enough coffee that Joel’s hands begin to shake—though maybe that’s just the cold, the air frigid in a way that transcends summer. Maybe it’s just you. You, transforming leftovers from your fridge into a breakfast hash, rich with cilantro from the plant on your windowsill. You, knocking your knuckles against his arm whenever you laugh at something stupid he’s managed to say or a joke on screen. You, handing him his refilled mug or breakfast bowl or taking them back to wash up, brushing your fingertips against his hand. Every time.

It’s a jolt to his whole system, this small meeting of your skin.

Soon the television is challenged by the din of your neighbors setting up tables and booths and games for the kids—at which you straighten on the couch, craning to peek through one of your picture-frame windows. A sigh blooms from your lips, then you set down your mug.

“Should put clothes on,” you tell him as you rise, legs unfolding. You look so soft. Joel knows you would be. “Gimme a second.”

Then you’re gone, and his head falls down against the back of your couch, the heels of his hands grinding into his eyes. It feels like you’re only gone for a second before your footsteps pinch down the stairs once more. “Headache?” he hears you ask, catching him with his hands still over his eyes. “Did I give you too much coffee?”

You’re teasing. Joel can hear your smirk as his hands slip back down to his lap, craning over the back of the couch to look up at you, and the world crumbles below him and falls away. Brows folded low over your eyes, you slide your hands down your front to soothe wrinkles from the skirt of your red sundress that only you can see. Slack-jawed, Joel finally manages to sit up, then twists to look back at you properly—perfect, that’s what you are. Every temptation and every vice and every poison he’d willingly drink.

“The dress is too much, isn’t it?” you say, sounding worried now.

He shakes his head, fights not to reach over this goddamn couch and pull you onto his lap. The thought alone makes his cock twitch traitorously in his jeans. You’re close enough that he could. You’re right there.

“S’perfect,” Joel croaks.

You let out a sigh of relief and nod before moving toward the door for your shoes. With his last remaining sense, Joel turns his head just before you bend down to reach for a pair of sandals. This was a terrible idea. He sees that now. A huge fucking mistake.

But it’s too late to back out now, because you’re already calling him over, sliding your hand into his as you step out onto the porch like this is normal, like you’ve done this before, like you don’t mind his sweaty palm. Outside the street is a racket, a flurry of children chasing each other between driveways and neighbors cracking the caps off beer bottles, a painted banner strung over the road between two maples:

B L O C K P A R T Y !

He hears you make a quiet hmph sound of amusement as you draw toward the crowd.

Joel waits, but to his surprise, no one asks why you’re here together, why you’re holding hands. Sorta figured you’d have to do the awkward uh, yes, it’s very… new for everyone, but nobody asks. In fact, when you vanish momentarily from his side to get drinks—the ruffle of your dress flirting with the tops of your thighs—someone tuts sweetly to Joel, “I knew it.”

Then you’re back before he can blush, two bottles sweating in your hands, and the neighbor vanishes the second you pass one to him. Your forehead has pinched up with nerves. Must mean you’ve seen him, Clark or whatever, and Joel’s a man of his word—you’ve asked him to do a job—so he glides one hand around your waist and presses his lips to your temple. Mumbles softly, “I’ve got ya,” against your skin as he breathes you in. There’s something sweet in your perfume, he thinks. Lilac or honey.

As if on cue, a soccer ball zips beneath the banner and a moment later it lifts as someone chases after it. Clark, obviously, looks up, sees you in the nook of Joel’s arm, and tucks the runaway ball under one arm without a word, then takes off in the direction he came from without so much as a nod.

Joel feels your chin jut into his chest as you squeeze him, smiling. “This is gonna be fun,” you grin.

Joel takes a deep breath to keep himself from hoping. That glint in your eye—one part mischief and another affection—ain’t good for him, but he can’t help the twitch at the corner of his mouth, that instinct to return your smile. “Careful, darlin’,” he mumbles, and as he brushes his thumb across your cheek you lean into his hand. “Face might stick like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “What, you don’t like it like this?”

Though he only hmphs, Joel suspects you know that he does, in fact, like you very much like this: smiling up at him like he’s painted the sky with stars just by standing at your side.

How quickly the day passes with you beside him. For every year he’s lived in the neighborhood Joel has too attended the block party, but like most obligatory functions, he finds himself worn down quickly, always the first to leave, retreating into the quiet of his house when he’s reached the end of his meager tolerance. When he’s had too many conversations and seen too many faces too close together and he’s desperate for quiet, for sleep.

It’s different with you. You buffer so much of the polite conversations he’s never been good at having with grace and ease, always drawing the focus away from him just as he starts to feel it’s too much, like you can tell when Joel’s at the end of his rope. Sure, he’s still gotta stand there while you chat to whoever about mixed up mail or work or garden soil, but so long as they’re looking at you, that swell of too much never comes. He can just stand there, sipping his beer or lemonade, and focus on the swipe of your thumb across his knuckles as you hold his hand. The heat of your body when you lean into him.

By sundown, Joel forgets that it’s all pretend. He forgets this is nothing but a favor between friends.

Now the food has dwindled, that summer smell of hotdogs dissolving from the air, and all the lawn chairs once relegated to each person’s lawn shuffle into the black street as cicadas form their nightly orchestra. You don’t have any lawn chairs, but Joel’s got two. Always has—he doesn’t know why. Only ever just him at these things.

Maybe he was hopeful, back when he bought them.

It’s hard not to feel—as he drags both out to sit at the back of the crowd—like he was waiting for you. He just didn’t know it at the time.

“So prepared,” you tease him, as you settle into your seats.

“Keep it up,” he replies, his eyebrows warning in their slow rise. “I’ll take that chair you’re sittin’ on.”

You scrunch your nose. “No you won’t,” you say.

Obviously he won’t. But you don’t have to be so cute about it.

Then a sudden chorus of children shrieks, announcing the first firework. There’s a hissing, then a dart in the darkness, and a small spark of golden light cracks open overhead. A smattering of applause simmers, punctuated by oohs and awws, and all the kids giggle every time a sparkler booms. Beside him, the glitter of each explosion forms a galaxy in your eyes, your lips parted with wonder. The prettiest thing Joel’s ever seen, just like that first day. After a while you notice that Joel’s not watching the show, and turn slowly to look at him, your expression open and tender.

“Missing the show,” you say.

He shrugs. “I’ll see ‘em next year.”

When you smile, he wants to kiss you so badly his heart might actually stop, strangled by its longing.

But your head whips back at the thunder of a vibrant firework—a dandelion of neon blue and searing white—and the moment passes. Then Joel watches your smile falter as your eyes fall into the crowd; Clark, sitting up near the front of the pack, is looking back at you over his shoulder. Trying to be subtle and doing a shitty job; head snapping away the moment he sees Joel’s glare.

“Ignore him,” Joel says, and reaches down to wrap a hand around one leg of your chair, dragging you closer to him. You let out a giddy yelp of surprise and draw your ex’s attention again.

This time you don’t flinch or falter. One glance at the guy and you’re reaching for Joel, fist gripping the collar of his t-shirt to tug him toward you. He’s got no chance to think, to panic; it happens too fast. Your sweet mouth closes over his—not for a peck, but a real kiss. Lips parting to taste his bottom lip, a breathy sigh passed from your tongue to his. Joel’s lost all at once, no use resisting. His hand curls gently over your wrist to keep your grip on him as he tilts his head to lick into your mouth.

The fireworks fall away.

You taste like lemonade and hops and the raspberry cobbler someone cooked up, and there’s not a cell in Joel’s body that doesn’t swoon at the way your lips chase and melt into his, humming softly against his mouth when he cradles the back of your head in the palm of his hand. How you tug gently at his bottom lip before you draw away, forcing his hand to slink from your hair.

Clark’s staring. Your lips proud and grinning. Plush and kiss-bitten. Looking every bit as calm as Joel feels walloped. You hm smugly to yourself and drop your head on his shoulder, attention once more captured by the crackle of fireworks Joel forgot were happening, and even though he’s a fool for agreeing to something he knew would rip him up, he can’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you’ve kissed him like that. Not when you’re lying against him still, even though Clark has turned away.

The whole rest of the show passes in a dizzy haze. A blur of shattering light, and the heady weight of you leaning against him. Near the end you slip one hand over his knee. Your ex isn’t watching, doesn’t see the way your thumb glides slowly across the denim of Joel’s jeans, intoxicating.

It feels, or else he hopes, that it’s just for him.

The night is black by the time he walks you home, all your neighbors disappearing into their darkened houses, his lawn chairs stowed safely on his porch, and even though everyone’s gone when you reach your porch you still don’t let go of his hand until you’re at the door and you have to get out your keys.

Your lock surrenders with a metal crack and you let your red door swing open. Inside your furniture beckons from the shadowed living room, cozy and soft. But you hesitate in the doorway, looking up at him. Joel has to put his hands in the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from pulling you against him properly, and pinning you to the wall.

You scrunch your nose at him again. “Thank you,” you say, and your bottom lip pinches between your teeth as Joel’s gaze falls to your mouth. “Was actually pretty fun, in the end.”

Joel nods, drops his eyes shyly to his shoes. “I had fun too,” he manages to say.

Your sandal nudges the toe of his boot as he stares at his shoes. “Y’alright?”

No, he’s not alright. He knows what it’s like to kiss you now—how the hell’s he supposed to go on living with that, and not ever have it again. “Mhm,” Joel lies, head snapping up to meet your gaze. He mistakes the look in your eyes for discomfort, thinks he must be keeping you from your night, from sleep. That after you were so sweet to him all day, he’s got the nerve to bother you. His heart winces as he forces himself to take a small step back. “Sorry. Don’t wanna keep ya.”

“Oh,” you say, face falling a little. “Okay. Goodnight then.”

There’s no way the pathetic flinch of his lips looks anything like a smile as he mumbles a sorry g’night.

Then your face shrinks slowly in the closing gap of the door, a darkened look haunting your face that Joel swears—in the split second he sees it—almost looks like disappointment. Like you don’t want him to go.

When he licks his lips, Joel remembers the plush of your lips, the soft hum you’d made when he licked into your mouth, how you’d leaned into his hand when he cradled your head. How your ex could never have seen or heard any of that sitting so far away.

Maybe you just wanted to. God, he hopes you wanted to.

So before he can talk himself out of it, Joel’s hand jumps out and smacks flat against your door, holding it ajar. Through the slender gap he watches a grin bolt across your face as you sigh thank god and grab hold of his shirt, hauling him through the doorway to crash your lips against his.

dividers by @thecutestgrotto - tag list & some mutuals!

@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed

@burntheedges @jolapeno @la-eterna-enamorada29 @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave

@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @tonysopranosrobe @evolnoomym @sweetpascal

@spacelatinos4life @sweetpascal @biggetywitch @wannab-urs @helenanell

@pedgito @pastelpinkflowerlife @jessthebaker @rav3n-pascal22 @sixhours

@noisynightmarepoetry @kyberblade @beezusvreeland @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack

@pedrospatch @yopossum @toomanytookas @sawymredfox @galway-girlatwork

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel tlou #almostfoxglove #tropeoff2024 #myfics #fic: blockparty #one shot #tlou fanfic

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literalgrill · 10 months ago

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Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

#video games #patreon #hard drive #ai critical

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with-my-calamitous-love · 3 months ago

Text

HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP

katsuki bakugou x reader

the times bakugou broke your heart

heavily inspired by mbobhft

1) the denial

“are we breaking up?”

“…yeah.”

“oh.”

his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.

it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.

it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.

he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.

but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.

at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.

at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.

you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.

right?

2) the anger

if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?

your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.

you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.

you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.

and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.

he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.

but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.

he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.

3) the bargaining

please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?

you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.

suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.

4) the depression

everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.

you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.

it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.

5) the acceptance

acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.

part 2 soon!

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satxnsupreme666 · 16 days ago

Text

Angel of life, lover of Death: Rio Vidal x fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @midnight-lestrange

Summary: For many witches and many people you were an angel, a life saver, a light in the middle of darkness, even a goddess you had been called, helping and saving so many witches and humans, always stopping them from facing death, you were known as the “Angel of life” everyone knew that if someone was fighting for their life, you would be the only one capable of helping them not to cross that line between life and death, bur for someone specifically, you had only been an obstacle, always interfering, stopping her from completing her job.

“Death” or Rio Vidal, as she had told you to call her, had presented herself one day in front of you, annoyed that you did not let her do her job and collect the bodies she so much wanted, she started to visit you more frequently, until the two of you fell in love, one day after you were brutally attacked and about to die, you woke up alone and wounded, you only knew, you were supposed to die, but you didn’t, waiting for Rio to come back, she never did, you waited for her for years, and she never came back, leaving you heartbroken and angry.

After many centuries, you see her again at the witches’ road, would she be able to explain what happened or are you going to keep her pushing away because of your anger and pain?

Warnings: Mentions of blood, injuries, reader getting hurt, mentions of a near death experience

Word count: 11k+

Author’s notes: In this story reader saves Sharon/ Mrs.Heart.

Hello, so this is again a requested story, it was requested a few days ago, sorry @midnight-lestrange that it took me 6 days to write it, I already had the idea of how the story would develop but I had some days in which I could not even get up from bed, however, I was able to finish writing this, and I hope this is what you were waiting for, it has always been a joy writing your amazing ideas, thank you so much for sharing your incredible ideas with me and letting me write them!

I hope this is what you were waiting for @midnight-lestrange ♥️

I hope you like it! ♥️

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange @eliscannotdance

“Help! You have to help her, please!” Yelled desperately a woman in front you, someone had knocked several times at your door in the middle of the night and even if you were sleeping, you always attended to a call for help.

Behind the crying woman with blood on her hands and part of her gown was soaked with the thick substance, the were to other women carrying a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties, her chest was covered in so much blood and a visible wound, that happened to look like a bullet wound was right there, at the level of her heart.

“She’s dying!” You did not want to lose any more time so you let them enter and guided them to place the wounded woman on a special bed on the other room, you quickly examined the girl and the wound and using your magic you could see what the bullet had pierced and how many damage had caused to her.

You started to cut part of the upper level gown on her to get more access to the wound, quickly analyzing what to do next, you put your two hands over the wound, applying pressure to it, after a couple of minutes the blood stopped coming out, you took your hands off her chest and placed the bullet you had retrieved on the metal plate next to you on the table with different bottles, the witches that had placed themselves a little farther from you on the wall to give you space were surprised, they had tried it, chanting conjures in Latin to stop the blood from coming out, but it had not worked out, they have heard of you, that you had saved countless witches from their death, but they had not believed it was true, until now, their only option left was you and after seeing what you had done, they could not be more surprised an grateful.

You noticed the unconscious woman starting to move a little, and you sighed, she was going to leave, she just needed time to rest.

“You actually saved her” The blonde witch said to you perplexed and you chuckled a little.

“What happened to her?” You asked the two of them, looking up from the unconscious woman.

“A witch-hunter attacked us, we did not know he had a shotgun with him” She said with a trembling voice, you nodded and sighed again.

“Is he dead at least?” The two of them nodded, proud of what they had done, and you smiled at them.

“Good, your friend is going to be fine, she only needs to rest for a couple of days, but she will be perfectly fine, just, keep safe next time, alright?” You gave them one reassuring smile.

“How can we pay you for this? You saved her! You actually did it, how can we thank you?” The shorter witch with black hair asked you this time.

“I don’t need material things; I will just ask two things from you” You replied looking at the two of them with a serious face and they nodded hastily.

“First, you are going to promise, that you will be more careful when roaming around the forest, alright” They nodded again quickly.

“The second thing is, you are going to let more witches know about me, that way if someone is fighting for their life, they can come to me and I will gladly help, alright? We as witches have to keep each other safe”

“We will do, don’t doubt about that” One of the witches replied back at you with a serious face.

“Thank you, then, you can take your friend back with you, or if you want to let her rest here, you can do it, whatever you prefer will be alright” You commented while taking the bullet from the metal plate and placing it in the trash bin.

“We have to take her with her family, they are going to wonder why we still have to arrive” The blonde woman said to you and you nodded, you walked back to sit yourself in a chair next to the wall and they came closer to her friend, you saw the way they both grabbed the unconscious girl on their arms and turned back at you again to say something else.

“Thank you really, you are really an angel as they say” You only gave them one final smile and you saw a blue cloud smoke surrounding them, after some seconds they had disappeared leaving you alone in your house.

Yawning you decided it was time to go back to sleep, tomorrow you would have to go back to the coven, to gather some more books, you went back to bed, without realizing that a black spot on the window of your house had been there since the two girls had knocked on your door.

You were rather known amongst witches, even famous some people had said, always saving witches on the verge of death, always doing the impossible.

For you it was normal to attend the calls of the witches who had been attacked, were sick or had had different accidents, you knew very well that people could show up at any hour at your home, so of course you were ready all the time.

During the Salem trials you had had a lot of work, groups of witches arriving at different hours of the day calling for your help because one member of their coven had been captured.

Helping thousands of witches had been a common thing through all your life, every witch and many witches were grateful that you had saved them, but you were not aware that you were making the job of some else a lot harder.

A loud bang on your window made you look up from your book, and you went to open the curtain to see which had knocked so harsh on the glass.

You saw no one and burrowed your brows, had they moved to the door? But no one had knocked again, at least not on the door.

With a confused expression on your face you walked towards your door and opened it, but as no one had been there it only made you blink several times, had you not been sleeping properly?

When you were about to close the door, you heard your name being called from afar, and saw two women carrying another witch with blood all over her shirt.

When they arrived at your door you noticed the open wound on her neck.

“Help her please” You heard one of the women pleading you, with eyes full of tears, you gave her a reassuring smile and asked them to follow you.

They placed the girl on the bed and examined quickly the wound, and after many times of seeing and helping witches, you noticed the way the wound had some traces of glass around the edges.

“Where did the piece of glass went to?” You asked them while inspecting the woman a little bit more, you were sure they had been the ones that removed the piece of glass off her neck, but you wanted them to let you know.

“We removed it” The green-eyed witch replied and you sighed.

“When something pierces the skin, you do not have to take it away, because whatever is stuck in there, most of the times is preventing the bleeding” You said to them with a soft tone on your voice, they started to cry more, but it was understandable.

After just some minutes working, the girl on the bed had stopped bleeding and there were no traces of injuries, her breath had stabilized and slowly she opened her eyes, the three of them hugged tightly and you started to clean your hands.

“Remember next time something like this happens, do not remove anything, alright?” You turned to them and smiled slightly at them, before you could say something else, you felt a pair of arms hugging you and you chuckled, you were used to some people hugging you after saving them, it was something usual.

｡˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩｡˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩

“You have to stop saving every witch that arrives severely wounded” the sudden voice made you jump; you had thought you were already alone?

Quickly you turned yourself around to look at where the voice had come from.

In front of you was sitting a woman, whose eyes were brown and big, with a stare that made you shiver, you had never seen her, such a beautiful face and elegant presence you would have easily remembered her.

You tried to say something, opening your mouth several times, but nothing came out of your mouth.

The woman who was dressed completely in black chuckled and stood up from your bed, she then proceeded to place herself in the chair where you had left your book, she took it and started to read nonchalantly the first pages.

“You really are something” Said the woman after some minutes of silence.

“Who are you?” You asked her while eyeing the brown-eyed woman.

“You can call me Rio, Rio Vidal” She stood up leaving your book on the chair, she then brought her hand to her hair and took something from there, then she placed that exact same hand in front of you and when she opened her fist, you were greeted with a small black flower on the palm of her hand.

“For you, my lady” She said to you with a smirk on her face.

You could feel your face starting to get warm and carefully you took the tiny flower in your hand, it had been such a nice gesture that you had not totally thought about the fact that a completely strange woman whom you had never seen was inside your house seeming to be so comfortable to had entered without permission.

“I should not be giving you flowers since you only keep stealing my job away, you are stealing my clients sweetheart, but, I’ve been dying to give you that for a while” The woman in front of you said and she started to walk around the room, examining what was on the walls and touching the small plants laying on some windows.

“The one I gave you is not going to die, so make sure you take care of it, alright?” She turned her head for a minute to look at you caressing the small petals of the tiny flower and she smiled.

“Thank you… Rio, I will make sure nothing happens to her, but can you tell me why am I stealing your clients?” You said in a soft-spoken tone, you did not know there was another healing witch, at least you had not heard of someone with the same powers as you.

Rio then came closer to you, so dangerously close that you could smell her scent, it was a sweet scent, a perfume you had never smelled, such a sweet scent that made you inhale deeply.

“You are the angel of life” She told you, still you were not understanding, you saw the way she took one strand of loose hair of your hair and brushed it to the side, her action only made you feel nervous.

“People call me the angel of death, angel of the night amongst other things” She said to you while looking straight into your eyes, analyzing you carefully, her intense stare making you feel nervous, and even after you had an idea of who she was, you did not dare to say something.

“I have also heard people referring to you as Angel of the morning” You slowly nodded, you were aware of the difference names witches call you, and some other women that were not witches, but you never actually mind paying attention to all these names, you just kept doing your job.

“I need you, to stop saving so many witches, leave some of them to me so that I can come for them, alright?” She said with a big smile, waiting for you to agree and make her job a little easier, she then came closer to you taking the little flower on your hands and witch a flick of her hands she converted it into a pin hair.

“It will look better this way, trust me” You saw her placing her hands on your hair and a soft click was heard, Rio then separated herself from you a little to have a better view of the way you were looking.

She knew she had come to make a deal with you, hoping that you would agree to get her some bodies and souls to collect, but she did not actually mind if you did not agree at all.

“There, aren’t you a pretty thing” She said to you smiling, her seducing smile made you feel weak to your knees.

“Out of all the things that I have seen and encountered, certainly I never expected for death to come unannounced at my home to try and seduce me” An even bigger smirk formed on her face and without saying anything else she went to take a seat on the same comfortable chair, taking the book and opening it on the page she had left.

“You are going to have a lot of work today” She said nonchalantly while turning the page with the thumb and crossing her legs loosely, making herself more comfortable, you were sure she was not going to leave anytime soon.

You chuckled and shook your head, but before you could go back to sit comfortably, another loud knock on your door made you prepare yourself, ready to continue your job, giving one last glance at Rio you noticed she was really entertained reading the book on her hands, so you went to answer the door.

In front of you was a woman, a human one and you found yourself surprised, how did a woman, a non-witch had found her way to your home?

She did not seem to have any physical wounds but her skin was painfully pale, there were visible green and purple veins around her neck, the way she was gasping for air and how her hand clung desperately to her chest, these were signs of a poisoning, and it was clear the poor woman was not about to say something, it would physically impossible for her.

You went to help her stay still, and helped her to lay down on the bed, she was looking at you with such a desperate stare, how had this woman the physical strength to arrive at your home in such a bad state? The human villages were located really far away.

“You don´t have to actually save her you know? She is not even a witch” Rio commented without even looking up from the book.

You were not about to agree with her, even if she was not a witch, she needed help, and you were not about to deny the help to someone who had arrived at your house looking to be helped.

After several minutes, you had been able to stabilize her, and her breathing was normal, she started to clear her throat and you handed her a glass of a beverage you had done in merely seconds, she gladly took it and drank the whole glass.

You eyed the woman curiously; you still had no idea how she had found you.

“I came here to make a deal with you sweetheart, why would you not let me do my job?” Rio said to you while leaning a little on the chair, what confused you was that the woman seemed not to have heard her.

“Thank you so much, you have no idea, I thought I was about to die” The woman on the bed commented and took your hand in hers.

“She really was going to die; you should have let her die” Rio said again nodding and you tilted your head to look back at Rio.

“I don´t know how to pay you back, I thought you were a myth, we never thought someone as powerful as you really existed!”

“Oooh, a legend” Rio behind the two of you started to move her hands, you were sure the woman in front of you could not see her, and even if you had wanted to laugh and rolled your eyes, the crying human was still looking at you with a hopeful expression.

After the woman had calmed down and told you how she would tell the other about you, that many women on her village had heard about you, the things that were said about you, that many did not believe you were a witch but an angel, you just listened to her while Rio commented something from time to time from her seat.

After she finally left, and you advised her to be careful you closed the door behind you.

“Looks like you have some fans out there” She was grinning and you went to stand in front of her.

“How did you find me?” You suddenly asked her, you were full of curiosity.

Rio straightened herself and seemed to be deep in thought but quickly she went back to her original position, her back resting on the chair and with one hand on the book.

“I kept coming here because there was this feeling, a call if you will, something kept bringing me here, the feeling that someone was about to die brought me here the first time, I saw when you helped the first girl that had been attacked, remember? The one with the knife on her stomach?”

She asked you remembering everything so vividly, you nodded, of course you remembered that girl she was one of your sisters of your coven, they always liked to taunt the men around the village that liked to get drunk.

“Well, I came because I knew, or at least I was sure her time had come, I had even prepared a long speech to take her with me, but…” She stood up from the chair and tossed the book aside, it landed on the table with a thud and before you had the chance to scold her about tossing the book, she came up to stand in front of you, her fingers grabbing your chin in a firm but soft grip.

“You saved her” She finished her sentence, and she lifted your chin to look for a second your lips, she licked her own and you felt yourself getting warmer.

You tried to remove your face from her grasp but she did not let you go, her long fingernails painted in black scratched softly your skin.

“Every time I have been here, waiting on that exact same chair, waiting for one of them to die, you always manage to save them, how do you do it?” She asked you, curious written all over her face and that was when she finally removed her hand off your chin, she took a step back looking expectantly at you, waiting for an answer.

“I don´t know, I just do what it feels correct” You simply replied and it was true, you also did not know how you were able to save them.

“Would you mind if I stay for a little while?” She asked you again with that beautiful smile and her perfect brown eyes, you nodded and she started to walk towards your room.

“Out of every room in this house, your room is the only one I had not seen, at least properly, would you give me a tour?” She asked standing on the door that lead to your room, she had that smirk that characterized her and you laughed, you were excited, not everyday Death herself would arrive at your house to flirt with you.

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You really loved the way Rio´s hands felt against your skin, the way she caressed your skin in such a delicate way made you feel so loved, even after some months of her being constantly near you, you were still afraid of saying how you truly felt.

Months of her being near you whenever someone came to ask you for help, to save them and stopping them from dying, Rio being there with you all the time, not minding at all, and always waiting for you to finish.

“It has been so long since you asked me to let someone die” You said to her one day when you two were laying on the grass, she was caressing your cheek softly, her being on the side of her body and you laying completely on your back looking at the sky, she was as usual dressed in black.

“I figured you were not going to do what I said” She replied with a smile on her face, and you looked at her with a shy smile.

“And I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable” She mentioned and you frowned your brows, Rio saw the way your brows contorted and put her elbow on the grass with her chin on her hand.

“My job is only to take those who are dead, not to be the cause of their own death, those are the rules, never to interfere in the process, only to take them when their last beat of their heart is given, only when their time finally comes” Her free hand came to your hair to brush a loose strand and placing it behind your ear, an idea crossed your mind.

“Are you going to be the one then to take me away when my time comes?” Your question made her tense, you saw how her shoulders visibly tensed at your question, and she quickly sat up, pressing her legs to her chest.

You did not understand why her sudden change, and sat as well, getting closer to her, and you took one of her hands in yours.

“What´s wrong?” You inquired, wanting to know what was going on, she gave a slight squeeze to your hand and looked at the sky, for a brief moment she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before turning her body to the side to be sitting in front of you, she took your two hands in hers and looked straight into your eyes, her brown eyes, full of concern, yet you did not know why she was so worried.

“I love you” Your heart skipped a beat, you had been waiting for her to say those words to you, that you could not contain the happiness growing in your chest, a big smile forming on your face, due to the happiness you were feeling, you had not noticed the way Rio´s eyes filled with tears.

“I love y-“ Rio was quick to put a finger on your lips, preventing you from finishing your sentence.

“Don´t say it please” She said begging you, and you did not understand why she was saying those things to you.

“Please let me” You were begging her and she shook her head, she had fallen for you, so hard, she was scared, she was scared because loving you meant she would have to see you when your time came, and she would not be strong enough to actually face it, she could not see you die, she did not want to.

“Please let me” You begged her again, she the guided your bodies so that the two of you were laying again on the grass, she was again looking at you, looking at your lips and she leant in to get closer to your face, she looked back to your eyes and finally she nodded.

“I love you” You finally said to her, and she could not help herself, she pressed her lips onto yours, to capture your lips, it was a soft kiss, and the first of all of the many kisses you were going to share, when you needed to take some air you separated your face a little from hers and noticed she had her eyes closed.

“Loving me will only ruin your life” She commented with a sad tone, you did not believe that, and you did not understand why she was saying that, so you pressed your right hand on her cheek.

“Then, let me ruin my own life, I don´t mind, I love you, deeply, please let me love you” Even though she had so many thoughts on her head, she felt so contradicted, she could not deny her feelings, she could not help but be with you, even if you were the complete opposite from her, she did not want to let you go, so she gave in the feeling, pulling you closer to her, to taste your lips one more time.

The memory was fresh in your mind even if it had been so many centuries ago.

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“Where are we going Agatha?” The teen asked the older witch who had suddenly said they needed to make another stop right in the middle of the street, he had to hit the breaks so suddenly he feared his car would need some repairing later.

“To visit an old friend” Had he heard correctly? An old friend? Did Agatha have actual friends? Or was she being her usual sarcastic self? At this point he was not even sure.

The witch opened the door and got out before closing properly the door, the teen went after her walking closer to her.

“Sorry Agatha, but with an old friend you actually mean, a friend friend?” He asked warily eying her slowly, she turned her head to look at him and squinted her eyes, deciding on not to say something back, she decided to keep walking until they reached a pretty house of two floors.

When the door opened you could not believe who was in front of you.

“Agatha?” The older witch smiled and could not help but get happy when she saw you, she had not seen you in years, you quickly opened the door fully and hugged the older witch, her strong grip around your body made you remember all the times centuries ago she had held you when you were completely alone and felt hopeless, she had been the one to help you come out of that dark place you had fallen, always making sure you had eaten and had drunk enough water, you knew she was known as the witchkiller, but she had been so kind towards you, stepping to help you when you had no one, when you had wanted to die, she could really be an amazing mother.

“Sweatheart, how are you?” Agatha asked you with a soft voice, caressing your shoulders and looking at you with so much softness, the teen could not believe what he was seeing, was Agatha really showing affect for someone else?

Agatha had been the one who found you wounded, she had felt sorry for you, she helped you to heal and showed you how to cast different protection spells, she had been your mentor, she was older than you and had taught you many things, she was aware of who were you, and only having dedicated yourself to heal others you had forgotten that your magic was so much powerful and could help you to do many more things apart from healing and saving lives.

After some time of being with her you finally opened up about what had happened, that you should have died and how the Death had made you fall in love with her only to leave you.

“I am fine, it is so good to see you again! I cannot believe you are actually here” You commented while looking at her with a big smile on your face.

The teen could actually not believe what he was seeing, how did you and Agatha had become friends? Were you the only that did not hold grudges against her? Even with so many questions on his mind, he was sure of something, you must be someone so special to have Agatha treating you this way.

She stopped for one moment to place her hands on your face, softly caressing it, you lent into her soft touch.

“It is really good to see you again” She felt guilty, and it was a feeling she was not used to, but when it came to you she left herself feel, after all, she had been your mentor for years and you had become someone really important to her, she felt protective when it came to you, but after every single thing she had done, she had to leave or otherwise, the people looking for her would have gotten to you.

She still remembered that day when she had to leave, she had cried, she had sobbed so hard but the two of you knew you had to part ways, and even after all these years, she couldn’t help feeling sad about had things had turned out.

“I missed you so much y/n” She said in a whisper and you saw the way her eyes got glossy, you felt you own eyes fill with tears and you pressed yourself against her one more time.

How much you had missed the woman who had been the closest to a “mother”.

The teen behind you closed the door as quietly as possible but still it made you look at him, separating yourself from Agatha, you looked at him with curiosity and Agatha placed her left hand on her pocket while her right hand moved to your back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude” The boy in front of you commented while rising his hands on the air, he was shocked Agatha was capable of actually treating someone with so much softness and respect, and someone who reciprocated the feelings, it was obvious Agatha meant a lot to you as well as how much you meant to the older witch.

“It´s ok” You chuckled and he seemed to relax, you had so many questions and Agatha sensed your mood, they still had some hours left before they had to get back to her house to leave for the road.

“What do you say, do you have an hour so we can catch up?” She asked you and you nodded.

“Let me go to make some tea, alright?” She did not want to let you go, but she knew she had to, so she took her hand off your back, nodding slightly, you couldn’t contain the immense happiness you were feeling so you threw yourself to hug her one more time before finally going inside your house to the kitchen to start preparing some tea.

Agatha and the teen looked where you had gone through the hallway and Agatha wiped some tears off her face, the teen was completely touched, she was a whole different person, a completely different person that did no seem to be the “witchkiller”.

Agatha noticed the way the teen was looking at her and quickly composed herself.

“Not a word about this, you hear me?” She then proceeded to straighten her hat and started to walk to the same direction you had disappear, he only nodded and tried to hide his laugh, after all it was not common to see Agatha acting all caring all the time.

The two of them followed to your kitchen and Agatha proceeded to sit on one of the chairs of the kitchen countertop and when you turned yourself around to look at the two of them you saw the way the boy was moving nervously.

“Hey, you can come sit here as well, don´t be afraid” You said with a smile to him and he smiled back, he was not afraid of you anyways, he came next to Agatha and you motioned for him to sit, he took the chair and sat there, you chuckled at the teen and Agatha only rolled her eyes.

“Do you want tea or coffee?” You asked the boy while pouring the tea for Agatha, you had prepared the tea for her just they way she had liked you centuries ago.

“I uh, tea would be fine” He said and straightened himself feeling a little bit proud for actually being noticed.

After you placed the cups for them on the counter, you also sat in front of them, you were feeling happy.

“So, are you going to tell me, what brought you here Agatha?” You gave her a big smile and she cleared her throat after taking a sip of her tea, she sighed and put the cup back on the plate.

“I came here because I felt you, I do not know why, but three years ago I did not feel you here, I sensed your presence, I wanted to come see you before-“ She took a deep breath.

“Before walking the witches´ road” You gasped and quickly took her free hand in yours.

“What, why?” You asked worriedly and you saw the way her eyes went to look the cup of tea.

“Someone stole my powers; I need them back and the Salem seven are after me” The teen could not be more surprised; Agatha was showing something more than just pride!

“Oh Agatha” You squeezed softly her hand.

“You came to say goodbye, right?” She nodded slightly.

“Take me with you” She hastily looked up to see you with pleading eyes,

“No” She straightened herself in her seat, you knew she was about to scold you like she had done several times in the past.

“Please, you know me, you showed me how to protect myself, you trained me really well, please nothing will happen to me, let me walk the witches´ road with you, do not push me away again, please?” Agatha felt conflicted, you were an amazing, incredibly intelligent and strong witch, but the road was harsh, cruel, she knew if someone would walk down the witches´ road and would come unscratched, that would be you, but she did not want anything to happen to you.

“Please, I promise to be careful” Agatha then sighed, and nodded, she would try to take care of you at least, it had been so long since she had seen you, and she really could not say no to you. “Fine, but you will be careful, I do not care that you are old enough, you will be under my protection, alright?” You nodded happily, the teen could not hold it anymore, so he asked.

“I am sorry, but who are you?” He could not believe it, someone had mentor you? And that someone being Agatha Harkness? You laughed at his confused tone.

“I am y/n” And his eyes went even more wide.

“Wait, are you the one that every witch called-“ You interrupted him before he could finish his sentence

“The angel of the morning?” You asked with a grin on your face, slightly rising your right eyebrow.

“It has been so long since someone called me that” Agatha laughed at the expression on the teen´s face.

“That is right teen, you are in front of a legend” She commented after taking another sip of her tea, the teen was so excited and he could not wait to ask you several questions, it would be a long journey, you thought.

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“She is not breathing! Can´t you do something?” The teen asked you with tears on his eyes, you were not sure if the road would allow you to, but you had to try, his pleading eyes broke your heart, and your heart also was breaking, you could not let this sweet old lady die because of something that had gone wrong, you knew what the song said “If one be gone, we carry on” but you had to at least try.

You nodded and pressed your fingers on Sharon´s neck, trying to look for a pulse, it was faint, but you sighed when you found one.

“Hep me taking her there” You quickly asked them and pointed at one neat place on the side of the road.

You only wished your powers worked down there on the road, you placed your hands on her neck and a white light started to emanate from your palms, Alice, Lilia and Jenn had worried looks on their faces, they were not sure what you were doing, they were not even sure if you could actually save her, they did not even know what was going with her, they had made sure she had taken the potion so they were completely confused.

After some minutes, the woman laying on the ground started to groan and her breathing came back, you sighed, deeply, and finally you felt yourself relaxing.

“Can we send her back somehow?” You turned yourself to look at Agatha and she nodded slightly, of course she knew, after all, you were sure Sharon was not a witch, so the rules of the road did not apply to her, at least not fully, Agatha went back to where the door had been minutes ago and you looked back at Sharon, her breathing was normal.

Everyone was shocked, how had you done that? Alice, Jenn and Lilia were sharing confused looks, had you just brought someone from death? Or had you only stopped her from actually dying?

“Who are you?” Jenn asked you looking between the woman on the ground and you, the teen placed his hands on your shoulders and looked at the other witches in front of you.

“She is-“

“The angel of the morning” Lilia interrupted the teen, and he pouted, he had wanted to say it, but Lilia did it before him.

“Wait, I thought you were a myth!” Alice came to stand closer to you.

“My mother even wrote a song about you” Alice said to you, you were aware of the song, you had listened to it several times.

“You saved my mother once, you saved her from dying!” Alice commented looking at you, you remembered that day, the day you had saved Lorna Wu from actually dying.

“Yeah, that song is amazing, is one of my favorites” The teen commented moving slightly to the sides, he could not contain the excitement he was feeling.

“So you truly are real” Lilia came to kneel in front of you and Jenn did the same, they all had heard stories about a witch who had been named “The angel of the morning” by humans, and the nickname actually just stuck, from many more witches calling you that, until one day, you simply vanished, no one heard from you again, you had disappeared, leaving your legacy become just a myth, a legend amongst witches and people, no one knew what had happened to you, vanishing with the wind, witches said you had tricked so many times death that finally you had been taken by it, if only they knew what truly had happened.

“You were the only one capable of tricking death” Lilia repeated, and your hand trembled a little, remembering the person whom you had fallen in love with, Lilia sensed your state and took your hand in hers.

“Alright put her in there, we can send her back to her small little house, she will be fine” Agatha said moving her hand in the air.

“We will be needing another green witch” Agatha said out loud.

“A real one this time” Jenn suggested looking directly at Agatha.

“Mi, mi, mi” Agatha responded her in a way of mimicking her voice.

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“For you, my lady” You could not believe what you were seeing, or more specifically, who you were seeing, in front of you was your former lover, offering you another small flower, she was moving the tiny flower on her hand, waiting for you to take it, unconsciously you took carefully the flower off her hand, and when your fingers brushed the skin of hers, it made you shiver, but at he same time, the pain you had thought had been completely forgotten, came overflooding you, the tears quickly forming in your eyes, and you decided to leave, you did not want to be there, you were not strong for that, so you started to walk to the other side of the road, holding the small flowers on your hands.

Agatha looked at Rio and then at you, she pressed her lips together and shook her head.

“Thank you, Vidal, you could not have done a better appearance, you better stay away from her, you hear me?” Agatha pointed at the brown-eyed woman covered in dirt, pointing at her threateningly, but Rio was not going to listen to her, instead, her eyes followed were you had going, and Agatha then flipped her coat and started to walk towards you, she was worried of how you would react or how you were feeling.

You did not dare to look back, too many emotions, too many thoughts roaming inside your head, you had not even notice when Agatha came to your side, taking your arm on her hand, making you jump, you quickly turned yourself around to look at her and your heart felt relieved when you saw it was her in front of you.

Before she could ask you how were you feeling, you threw yourself at her, hugging her tightly and pressing your face against her chest, she shushed you softly and started to make circles on your back with her hand, soothing you, she could feel your distressed, your pain, and she did not know how to help you to ease it.

“Why is she here?” You sobbed hard against her, and she for once in her long life did not have the answers.

“Why is she doing this to me? She left me, she left me there alone, you found me on the ground, dirt all over me, I was bleeding, I was alone, and she was nowhere to be seen, I waited for her for years, and she never came back” Your words were breaking her hear, she knew everything that you had been through, the state she had found you in, the wound in your chest and neck, how long it took you to heal your pounding wounds, neither you nor her knew why the magic was not working, why the potions did not work, why you had to wait months for the injuries to heal by itself naturally, she knew since the first months of your healing journey, that you were longing for someone, that you were always waiting for someone to appear on your door, but after months of waiting, you realized that whoever you were waiting for was not going to arrive.

The day you had completely broken down, you had told her everything, sobbing hard on her arms, since that day, she became protective of you, and decided to take you under her wing.

Seeing you again in this state as she had seen you centuries ago, made her get even angrier at the “green witch” that had made her own way to the road.

“I am not going to let her hurt you again, alright?” She whispered in your ear and you nodded softly against her neck.

After some minutes have passed you finally calmed down and you separated yourself from the older witch, she wiped your tears off your face and rubbed your shoulders lovingly.

“Everything is going to alright, ok?” She said to you in a reassuring way, and you nodded, you trusted in her.

The sound of steps getting closer, made you straighten yourself a little bit and Agatha game you one more smile before walking behind you to talk to the other witches.

“Alright, nothing to see here ladies, we have to keep walking down the road to the next trial, alright?” She moved her hands to show them they had to keep walking, Alice and the teen went quickly to place themselves to your sides and Jenn and Lilia started to walk slowly behind you, leaving Agatha and Rio at the end.

“Are you alright?” You heard Alice asking next to you, and you gave her a sad smile, the teen placed his hand softly on your shoulder and you nodded.

“I will be alright, thank you” You replied back to the shorter witch, Alice shared a worried look with the teen.

“Listen, I do not know how you made it into the road, but you better stay away from her” Agatha whispered to Rio, just loud enough for her to hear, the way her voice sounded did not match her smiling face, she had a threatening tone on her voice.

“She called me; I just came” Rio replied with an angry tone on her voice, and Agatha could not help but laugh.

“Now? After all these years? What about the other times she called you and you never showed up?” Agatha hissed back, the two of them walking behind the group, if they saw them from afar, it looked as if they were talking friendly.

“You do not know what happened, you have no idea what I had to do, it hurt me more to leave her than you know” For once, Agatha was not sure if the woman next to her was saying the truth, but she could not risk you getting hurt again.

“If you make her cry one more time, I swear Vidal, I do not care if I have to fight Death itself to protect her, you hear me?” Rio laughed, if only Agatha and you knew what she had done to protect you.

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“A long time ago, I loved someone and to be honest, I never stopped loving her, I had to disappear from her life, I was forced to, forced to never get close to her, forced to stop seeing the love of my existence, not having the chance to have a final word with her, I did something I was not allowed to, leaving me scarred for eternity” She said out loud turning her head slowly to look at you, you could see the tears that were threatening to fall down her face, and you could not take it, you could not take the sight, her words, what she was saying, you did not want to accept it, so you did what you knew very well to do, you stood up, and walked far away from them, tears were falling from your eyes.

You were covering your mouth with your hands, trying really hard not to cry out loud, trying hard not to make a scene and show everyone how hurt you were.

You felt a pair a hands caressing your back slowly, and then you felt the way these hands on your back made their way to your lower back, suddenly surrounding your waist with a strong grip, you knew very well the owner of the pair of these strong arms, she held you tightly on your place making you cry harder, and without any more strength in you, you left yourself sob in her embrace.

You let yourself leant into the touch of the woman you had craved so much for so many years, you let the woman who had left you centuries ago heartbroken hold you into her arms, her soft touch against your waist made you remember all the times she had held you close to her.

“I love you” Rio whispered in your ear and hearing her saying those words you had missed so much made you feel suddenly a wave of anger.

You turned yourself around hastily and took a step back from her, you noticed when you looked at her, the tears running down her face, and even if it broke your heart to see her crying, your anger was stronger.

“You don’t get to day those things! You don’t get to say how you still love me! Don’t you see? Don’t you see what you did to me?” You accused her, pressing your finger onto her chest, she only looked at you with more tears running down her face, she did not find the courage to say something.

“You left Rio, you left me alone, I was hurt, physically and emotionally, I begged for you to come back for me, I begged you to take me with you, I begged for you to come and get me, and you never appeared, I waited for you for centuries and you never came back for me!” You had yelled at her, the pain you had been enduring came back flooding and overwhelming all of your senses.

“Can’t you see the way I loved you, can’t you see the way I still love you? I love you! It’s ruining my life! You are ruining my life, I should have taken into account what you told me years ago, it could have saved us a lot of pain” Your words were cruel, you were hurting her, but if only you would let her explain everything to you, then she saw your sad expression changing into an angrier one.

Rio couldn’t stand the way you were just accusing her; she couldn’t stand the angry look on your face directed at her.

“Don’t you think I wanted to go back? Do you really think I left just because I wanted to?” You blinked several times, and before you had the time to keep fighting with her, you realized the scenery around you had changed, there was a misty forest, fog surrounding the entire place and to your right there was a shack, a shack you had thought you had left behind centuries ago.

“Looks like the road has the next trial ready” The teen said coming behind you, all of the other witches were looking surprised at the entire place.

“Looks like…” Agatha started to say thinking of the word she best described the place”

“Like home” You finished the sentence and Rio and Agatha quickly turned their heads to look at you with their brows furrowed, Jenn, Alice, Lilia and the teen, quickly realized the next trial would be yours.

You didn’t want to think anymore, you did not want to feel anymore, you just wanted to get at the end of the road and wished for this to finish, so before anyone had the chance to say or do something else, you walked straight to the entrance of the shack and opened the door, you quickly entered and were greeted by your old home, you were being greeted by your old life.

Everyone followed after you and entered behind you, their clothes had suddenly changed to the ones according to the era, 1700, where witches had their own black gowns, the teen looked at his clothes and realized his clothes were completely black as well as everyone, it looked as if all of you were attending a funeral.

You walked closer to where the bed in which you used to attend women and witched was placed in the middle of the room, and on the wall, you could read what had been written on there with what looked to be blood.

“How did you trick death?” The teen read out loud, feeling unnerved at what he was seeing. On the other wall there were more phrases written in red “You should have died that night”, was the same phrase that was constantly on your mind.

And you knew it, you knew you should have died that night, that night were you had arrived home and some witch-hunters were waiting for you, you did not know how they found your home, but there they were, your things scattered all over the place, your books torn apart, the bed had been flipped over, the chairs broken and the wooden pieces were all over the place, every petal and flower Rio had given to you that were in different vases and pots had been torn apart, before you even had the chance to fight back, the attacked you, you could only close your eyes and felt the pain they were inflicting in you, you knew there was so much blood, you could feel your clothes getting wet with the thick liquid.

The door suddenly closed, with a harsh thud making everyone flinch.

You saw an envelope on the white bed in the middle of the room and walked closely to it, taking the envelope on your hands you proceeded to torn the white paper out of it and read it out loud.

“Something unfair was done, cheating faith involved, the blood destined to be shed erased, repairing what had to be done needs to come”

Your brows knitter together, not understanding, but when Rio snatched the paper out of your hand and read it again, she crushed the sheet of paper, shredding it to pieces, and everyone turned their heads to look at her with annoyance.

“Why did you do that? That is our clue!” Jenn said at her and Rio shook her head vigorously.

“No!” Rio yelled with a furious expression on her face, making everyone in the room felt silent.

“Wait-“ You said to everyone rising your hand.

“I should have died that night” All of the witches looked at you, Agatha and Rio started to get worried about what the road wanted them to do.

“That night the witch-hunters attacked me, I knew I was going to die, I waited for death to come to me, to take me, and it never happened, I bled, a lot, I felt asleep thinking I was about to die, and the next day I woke up, with the wounds still fresh, I tried to heal myself but I couldn’t, and then Agatha found me in the middle of the forest, she also tried to help me and heal my wounds with magic, but it did not work, I had to wait months for them to heal naturally” You said recalling the memories.

“Cheating faith, cheating faith” You said again, trying to think what could have happened, you had not done anything that night to try and save yourself.

“I remember seeing you” You said to Rio and walked closer to her, she had more tears streaming down her face, she seemed guilty.

“I saw you there, I remember watching you, you were yelling, but then you disappeared and I never saw you again” You explained to the brown-eyed woman, everyone in the room was looking expectantly at her and she found this opportunity to finally tell you what happened.

“I was there, the night you were attacked, If I had been there earlier, if I had gone with you that night to the village, if I had stayed with you or at our home I would have seen the hunters arriving, I would have stopped you from entering, but I was not there, I was outside, doing my job, when I came later I saw the windows broken, the door opened, and you were laying in the ground, there was so much blood, you were choking on your own blood, I tried to stop the bleeding, I tried to heal magically your stab wounds, but I couldn’t, I was not being allowed, I sensed the air, the air getting thicker, the fog forming around us, I had to do my job, I had to take you with me, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t see you dying, I did not want you to die, I knew it is what I should have done, but I went against the rules, I broke them, I did not know what was going to happen, but I let you live” Her beautiful brown eyes were full of sorrow and pain, Agatha was crying behind you, the teen was covering his mouth with his hands, Alice could not believe she was in front of Death herself, Jenn had taken a seat on a chair near her and Lilia realized why she felt so unnerved with the presence of who they thought was their “green witch”.

“You saved me? From dying?” You were looking at her with surprise on your face, how had you did not realize what had happened.

Rio nodded and pulled you closer to her, her grip around you tightening.

“I could not let you die, I decided to let you live even if that meant breaking the rules, due to my choice I was punished, forced not to get near you again, I was afraid of what could happen to you if I got near you, and so even if it hurt myself deeply not being close to you again, I decided to sacrifice my happiness in order to let you live a peaceful life” The hot tears falling down her face made you wipe them off her skin, her words made you happy, they lessened the pain, she loved you, she never stopped loving you, finally you threw yourself at her arms, your arms around her shoulders and her own arms gripping your waist protectively, how much she had missed feeling you this close to her, your body against her made her feel complete.

Several minutes passed, you and Rio had not separated from each other, and even though you felt content, you knew what had to be done.

Slowly you separated from her to look into her brown orbs, smiling at her, she loved your smiled, she had missed you entirely.

“We still need to pass this trial” You commented, and she grimaced, closing her eyes.

“No! I am not going to do it!” She yelled, you had never seen her lose control of herself before.

“Sorry, but do what?” The teen asked confused.

“The letter said that what had to be done needs to be repaired” and when you said the last thing everyone understood.

“No way!” Agatha came to stand next to you, she would not let you die.

“Isn’t there any other way? There has to be something else, right?” Alice came closer looking at Agatha, there was no way they would let you die.

“Didn’t we all cheat during Agatha’s trial? There has to be for sure something else we can do” Jenn commented and stood up from her seat to stand next to Rio and you.

“We are not going to let y/n die right!?” The teen wondered out loud looking at every witch on the room.

“No boy, we are not letting her just die like that” Lilia could not actually believe what the road was asking for, it was simply not fair, you, a witch who had saved so many lives, who had helped so many people through the years? She knew the road was cruel, but never had imagined something like this.

The mere thought of you actually dying made everyone feel a pang of awful pain in their chests, Rio seemed to be the most affected one, she was not going to let you die.

You knew that was the only answer, so you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being back in the arms of the woman you loved.

“C’mon, we have to think of something else!” Agatha yelled desperately, everyone had taken a seat in different places, you were sitting in the floor with your back on the wall, Rio was sitting next to you with her head on your lap, you were caressing her hair and she was touching softly your legs, she wanted to enjoy every bit of you now that you had let her stay close to you.

“What’s that sound?” The teen suddenly asked, and everyone lifted their heads to look at the ceiling, but the cracking sound seemed to be the one of glass about to break, behind you was a window with cracks forming in it. Rio helped to stood up and the two of you looked at the window, before the glass shattered, you pushed Rio to the side she fell down onto the floor and the other witches came rushing to her side to help her, a big piece of shattered glass was able to reach your neck, and you felt the thick liquid starting to go down your chest.

“Y/n!” Agatha asked while walking closer and slowly to you, she touched your shoulder slowly and tried to turn you over to have a look at you, Rio stood up quickly and went to check on you and was able to grab you before your body collided against the floor, Rio was horrified, you were trying hard to breathe, gasping for air, you were clinging onto her clothes and Agatha covered her mouth at the sight.

“We have to help her! Jenn can’t you make a potion or something!” The teen yelled and walked closer to Rio and you, Agatha kneeled next to you and tried putting her hands on your bleeding neck, trying to stop the bleeding, Rio tried to do the same, using her magic hoping her magic would be enough to heal you, but it wasn’t working.

“No please! I am not letting you die, I won’t do it, I don’t care about the consequences, but I am not taking you!” Rio was trembling with fear, why was the road so cruel? What made her heart ache more, was when she saw you still had the small flower on your hair, the same one she had given you when she first met you centuries ago.

“Listen I don’t care if I never get out of the road but I am not letting her die here!” Agatha suddenly said, her hands were tinted red.

Alice, Jenn, the teen and Lilia looked at each other and nodded understanding what they were feeling and what they would actually do, they agreed with Agatha, they were not just going to leave you there.

“I don’t care anymore, I don’t even know what is going to happen, but y/n is not dying here” The teen said and walked closer to the three of you kneeling in front of you.

Alice, Jenn and Lilia felt the same, so they also walked towards you.

“There has to be something else, there has to be another way!” Alice yelled feeling desperate at the amount of blood covering your chest.

They did not care about breaking the rules of the road, about the envelope saying that you needed to die.

“If you broke the rules once, we can do it, all together right?” Agatha inquired looking into Rio’s eyes, all of them were around you, circling your dying figure, but after they could actually think of something else, a door opened, you gasped taking a big gulp of air in your lungs, Rio quickly brushed your neck with her hand and there on your neck, there was no trace of any type of wound.

“What happened?” You said clinging onto Rio´s clothes, you could finally breathe.

“I am not sure, I don´t know” Rio replied to you still not believing what had happened, one moment you were fighting for your own life with a deep gash on your neck, and the other you had no trace of that wound, Rio did not care and pulled you closer to her body.

“You are fine, you are fine!” She started to laugh, she could not actually believe what had happened, but what mattered was that you were fine, that you were alright that you had survived.

The other witches were as shocked as well, they could not comprehend what had happened, how did the wound disappear? You were not bleeding anymore.

Rio separated herself from you and helped you to sit down on the floor, the next thing you felt was Agatha engulfing you in a hug as well, and you let her hold you.

“I am so happy you are fine; I was so scared” Agatha did not care about the others seeing her act this way.

Agatha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before moving away a little and the teen was the next one that hugged you, Lilia, Jenn and Alice decided it would be a good idea to hug you at the same time, Jenn did not even care the amount of blood surrounding you, they were just happy that you had survived.

“Guys, the door is opened, we passed the trial” You announced happily when you noticed the opened door on the other side of the room.

They did not care at the time, they still wanted to enjoy the feeling, Agatha was smiling softly at you and Rio had not let go of your hand the entire time, she was looking at you with so much love, and was not planning on letting you go any time soon, she swore to herself, she would do whatever it took to protect you, and she knew she would have all the time to have a proper talk with you, right now, she just wanted to enjoy the feeling of your hand in hers.

Agatha for her part was looking at the ceiling in a more thorough way, and she noticed the way some of the colors on the wooded planks did not match the entire color, and after tilting her head to the side, she saw what was written in there.

-Leave behind all traces of selfishness, sisterhood defies disobediences, working as a unit will grant you openness- If she had known that what it would take for all of them to unite and work together onto agreeing for the first time on the same very thing, which had been protecting you, well, she would not have believed it.

So, what tied together all of them was not the main goal of getting to the end, but it was actually you, one more time, the great legend of the “Angel of the morning” had saved many witches at the same time, she still had to talk to Rio about not hurting you again and threaten Death itself not to hurt you again, but she would have the time for that.

#rio vidal x y/n #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #agatha harkness x fem!reader #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha harkness #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year ago

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Bank Security Guard Danny AU

So, the People of Gotham are extremely desensitized to Rouge Attacks at this point. It got to the point that whenever a person gets a job at the Bank, they have a whole 1 Hour Training Video on how to deal with a Rouge Attack right.

So, when they hire a New Security Guard from a lesser known Security Company, they don't even bother showing him the Training Video. They assume that he'll either Die or Drop them within a Week.

Danny, for the record, did not know how bad the Rouge problem truly was. All he knew was that some random guy in a Ski Mask had just walked into the bank like he owned the place and started showing off a Gun telling everybody to get on the ground.

Danny did the sensible thing and Knocked him the Fuck Out.

Then, the same thing happened the very next day, but this time it was an entire group of people. Danny had them dealt with before the first person had gotten to the floor.

Then the same thing happened the Same Day!

By the end of the week he had become a Legend among the Citizens of Gotham. There was only a single Bank in all of Gotham that had avoided being robbed for a Whole Week, and it was all because of this one Security Guard who was freakishly good at his Job.

By the end of the Month, most criminals don't even bother trying that Bank anymore. It got worse when he got loaned out as Security for another Bank, and the same thing happened again.

Eventually, he ends up rotating shifts in Every Bank in Gotham, and it becomes a Game for the Criminals to see if the Bank they try to Rob is the one Danny is in that night. And they can't even reasonably predict his next location, since he always moves around at Random!

No matter what Bank he is in, he always manages to beat the Crooks trying to Rob the Bank.

Then it gets weird. Due to a scheduling Mix Up, Danny ends up being scheduled for 2 different Banks on the same day, each across the city from the other.

One Bank reports that Danny stopped a gang from Robbing them at 6:00 PM, which really confuses the other Bank because Danny did the same thing in their Bank at the same time. Security Footage proves it, Danny was somehow in 2 places at once.

They decide not to confront him about it, but they do test a theory. They intentionally hire him at multiple different Banks at the same time for a week. He shows up to work every time without fail.

By now they have basically confirmed that he must be a Meta, but they don't really care anyways. Now he can protect multiple Banks at once with his usual perfect Efficiency, and he'll be payed accordingly as well. The Banks get protected well, and he gets payed Extreme Overtime by the Banks, everybody wins!

Well...except for the Crime Bosses of Gotham.

Before this, it was a Game for them to try and beat Danny. They didn't really care since a single Uber Competent Security Guard was still perfectly fine for business, sure they would fail a Job once in a while if they ran into him, but he could only be in 1 place at a time. It wasn't a Huge Loss.

But now it was too much. They needed to take care of him.

Assassination Attempts didn't work. He was just as competent Off the job as he was On it, so they could never get to him.

They tried attacking his Bosses, but then they hired themselves to protect...themselves. It was hard to kill his Bosses when he was constantly Bodyguarding all of them at once.

Attempts to get to him through his Family were...let's not talk about that...

It continued on like this for a while.

...

Soooo...I don't know how to end this one.

Go ahead and put your own spin on this Prompt! The basic idea is that Danny is using his Duplication Power to get to every shift on Time, and he is really annoying the Local Crime Bosses.

What do you think?

#Dp x dc #Dpxdc #Danny phantom #DC #Dcu #Security Guard Danny AU #Security Guard AU #Danny has Duplication Powers #Danny is way to competent for a Guard #I wonder what the Bat Fam would think of this?#Would they be glad that he is taking a load of work off of them?#Or would they be distrustful of a Powerful Meta in Gotham?#It's not like they can just ask him to leave #They Banks would riot #So would the people he saved #Maybe Ellie joins him on the Job?#Crooks: At least there's only one of them.#Ellie: Heya there!#Crook: What the f-!!!

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shadesoflsk · 8 months ago

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THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day.

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance.

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day.

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came.

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever.

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception.

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him.

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was.

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch.

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you?

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind.

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?”

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it.

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty.

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far.

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!”

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s.

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water.

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants.

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks.

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have.

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body.

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love.

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body.

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for.

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you.

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already.

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul.

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper.

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you.

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release.

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling.

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment.

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control.

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection.

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy.

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck.

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air.

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you.

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly.

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra.

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy.

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you.

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.”

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb.

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body.

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to.

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest. “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.”

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you.

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste.

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs.

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach.

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles.

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright.

“More than okay.”

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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multifandomfanficss · 2 months ago

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Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfiction #twisters oneshot #Tyler Owens fanfiction #tyler Owens fanfic #tyler owens oneshot #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine #glen powell #glen powell fanfic #Glen Powell fanfiction #Glen powell oneshot #glen powell x reader #twister #twisters 2024

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sansaorgana · 3 months ago

Text

— THE PROPHECY

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!Reader

SUMMARY — After failing to protect your tribe, its members leave you behind to die according to your customs. When Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen finds you, he immediately knows you are a daughter of the desert that was promised to him in the prophecy. Just like you were promised a man from the stars to come for you.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I changed the request a little and I hope it's fine – I just had this idea and I really wanted to write it but the request itself inspired it! 💛 By the way, this request was sent in April... 🙈 I am so ashamed of myself and it's not even the only request like that because I still have one left to write with Feyd... Please, do forgive me... 🙏🏻 I know nothing about Fremen customs and I didn't bother to Google them because I had this idea in my head and I liked it so I didn't want to change it either way. Therefore, keep in mind that I treat The Fremen culture pretty loosely here. Reader is a Princess (I don't think they have royalty at all in canon), she has ritual tattoos on her body (not as many as Lady Jessica but still) and she has blue eyes from the spice (which is not even mentioned I think 🤔) but other than that I did not describe anything about her looks.

WARNINGS — mentions of slavery, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut), mentions of suicide, Reader gets beaten up badly in the beginning by The Harkonnen soldiers

WORD COUNT — 4,200

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE PROPHECY

In other worlds, noble families had all the possible privileges alongside the burden of responsibilities. In other worlds, Princesses were spoiled and insufferable creatures who had all their whims and wishes fulfilled. But it was no other world – it was a cruel and harsh Arrakis. It was a hot desert filled with nothing but sand and spice and your tribe expected that your parents would help them to survive – no matter what price.

Everyone had the same duty to keep the rest alive – your father, your mother and even you, a simple Princess. The Fremen were not rich, therefore you were wearing the same clothes as everyone else. But even if you tried to blend in with the crowd, everyone would recognise you because of the ritual tattoos covering your skin. The noble blood was nothing but poison running through your veins – it was unwanted. Every failure was blamed upon you and you would drink the collected water as the last because your job was to make sure your tribe would live.

You had lost your mother first, even before the new Harkonnen invasion and the oppression of The Atreides. But your father died recently, in the very same ruins where your tribe left you to die in the ashes and heat before they attempted to run away. You were their Princess and your family had failed to protect them – the tough custom was to leave you behind and let the desert take care of you. It would either swallow you whole or you would prove yourself by digging yourself out.

But in this case – it was leaving you behind for The Harkonnens to find you and take care of you. It was worse than death in the desert. Perhaps their ways of murder were quicker and more sophisticated but they were unnatural. You were a Fremen and if you were to die, you wanted to do it by slowly decaying in the sand.

“Mercy… Mercy…” You begged quietly in Chakobsa language when they found out that the body laying amongst the ruins was still alive and breathing.

One of the Harkonnen soldiers pulled you up by your hair and you could see them all through hazy eyes, in their black uniforms covering their unhealthy pale white skin.

“That bitch is alive,” one of them drawled out. “Are you going to talk?” He leaned in to ask you but you didn’t answer. You had no physical strength to answer him but also no spiritual motivation to keep going.

You were already prepared to die and you felt so indifferent that their punches and kicks did not bring you any pain at all. They dragged you by your hair and bruised your skin, they threatened you and cut you in a few places but with each drop of blood, you also felt your life leaking out of your body and what a sweet relief it was.

You were lying curled up on the ground and completely lost track of time. You could have been there for centuries, long hours or mere minutes only. You had absolutely no idea. You only waited for death to finally release you from this life and from the endless sands of Arrakis.

Your dream was to fly – fly away and see other worlds. See the worlds with greenery and water. To breathe in the fresh air and to be invisible in the crowd, to no longer be a Princess.

Or to simply disappear. That option was not so bad either. Everything was better than this life, certainly.

For now, they left you alone and proceeded to ruin the temple around you. And some part of you grieved this loss of your culture but the other part had no love for it anymore because you couldn’t care less at this point and because this world and these people had brought you nothing but pain and oppression. You loved and hated the Fremen equally.

Perhaps The Harkonnens had left you alone to regenerate before they’d start kicking and beating you again. Perhaps they would let you die in peace – that was doubtful, though. Perhaps they thought you were already dead but you were sure they did not because they were very committed to their art of killing.

When you heard heavy steps approaching you and their muffled voices explaining something to the man who had just arrived, you realised that they had been simply waiting for someone more important. And he was probably the one who would bring death to you. You tried to open your eyelids at least a little to see the face of your killer as you prayed quietly for a painless death even though you knew very well that no gods were listening to you. No gods would listen in a destroyed temple anyway.

The gods were angry and their anger was always aimed at people like you – the noble Fremen who hadn’t managed to keep their people safe. You were doomed in this life and in the afterlife. There was no escape.

The man who had just walked inside the cave in which you were lying had an intriguing face because he was quite handsome for a Harkonnen. He had to be someone important, too, because his clothes were more elegant. He even had a cape attached to his stillsuit.

“Spy. Left behind,” one of his soldiers informed him and the man finally looked down and spotted you.

You bravely kept looking at him even though you knew already that painless death would be no option from his hands. You even straightened yourself up, slowly and gritting your teeth because you didn’t want to hiss out of pain and give them any satisfaction. Now, you were on your knees.

“No trace of the others,” the soldier explained.

“They’ve gone South to hide in the storms,” the new man commented and his voice made a shiver go down your spine and formed a knot in your stomach. There was something extremely eerie about him in a way that no ordinary Harkonnen could match. He was evil and twisted – even his voice was.

He was given a blade and he examined it as you were examining him, trying to figure him out even though it was pointless since it was the last minute of your life, most likely. Yet, stupid human brain always had to be kept entertained, always needed a distraction – even in a time like this.

“Send this message to The Baron,” the man commanded. “The North is liberated and secure. Harvest spice at will,” he looked back at you as if he was trying to mock you or tease you – so unaware how much you simply did not care anymore.

If it was up to you, you would blow up the whole planet. You would wipe Arrakis out of every galactic map.

“Yes, Na-Baron,” the man behind him bowed his head and then you realised that the demon in front of you was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen himself.

It was quite ironic – he was of noble blood, too. Perhaps it would be an honour to be killed by him if you were a simple girl but you were not. Maybe it was a small mercy of the gods – a small, ironic smile. Yes, they would bring death now but at least your murderer was your equal and not a common Harkonnen scum.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly, clenching his jaw and your own sore muscles tensed, expecting another kick or a blow or things much, much worse. You just kept sitting there and looking up at him, too weak to even beg for mercy anymore.

And you didn’t want to either.

“She won’t talk,” another soldier of his told him and Feyd-Rautha tilted his head.

After a short while of silence, he crouched down in front of you and he tore a part of your stillsuit off of your body, revealing your arm and one side of your chest. You made no attempt to hide away from him or to yell for him to stop because you knew it would not help you in any way and it would only cost you even more of your dignity.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed body and stood up again.

“She is their Princess,” he pointed out loud. “Her marks give her away,” he added. “She is no spy. She was left to die as a punishment of her tribe.”

You were surprised how much he knew about your customs. Feyd-Rautha turned around to look at you again.

“I do not care about the Fremen traditions,” he informed you. “You will go with me,” he ordered.

You were too weak to move, of course. When two of his soldiers forced you to move up as they dragged you by your hair, you fell down on the ground. They kept forcing you up again and again, until you completely lost consciousness.

A man from the stars.

You were a young girl again or perhaps you were a visitor in your old memory because you could see yourself sitting there, inside the dark cave deep under the temple with a Reverend Mother and a few other veiled Bene Gesserit women. A young girl with tears still in the corners of her eyes from the painful ritual of marking her body with the black ink. She had just become a Princess and she already knew it was a path of pain and sacrifice. Now, she had been tested with Gom Jabbar – another suffering filling this small body of a little girl. She hadn’t asked for any of this.

“A man from the stars,” the Reverend Mother said to her. A prophecy.

“What about him?” The girl asked, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hand, forgetting that they were sensitive now. The tears burnt her freshly-inked skin and she hissed. Bene Gesserit women smiled contemptuously. It was the Princess’ punishment for shedding tears and wasting water.

“He will come for you,” The Reverend Mother found her eyes through all the chains in her veil. Little girl felt a chill going down her spine at those words and she was not sure whether it was a promise or a threat.

She never told her parents about this prophecy and soon she forgot about it anyway. She grew up to be too big to believe in fairytales.

When you opened your eyes again, you gasped and sat up rapidly as the water splashed all around you. You looked down, terrified, and realised that you were naked inside a bathtub, surrounded by a few terrified maids who had moved away at the sight of you awakening.

“Wh-what is happening?” You asked them. Some of them were clearly Harkonnen with their white skin, big black eyes and bald heads. Some of them were Fremen slaves but they were not from your tribe because you couldn’t recognise any of them.

“Na-Baron asked us to clean you up and take care of your wounds, my Lady,” the Harkonnen maid informed you. She was not sure how to address you but you couldn’t care less about that. What shocked you the most was…

“Water!” You yelped and tried to get out of the bathtub although you were too weak to do so. “You are wasting water!”

“We have more than enough water here in the palace,” the Fremen slave woman told you and you calmed yourself down although you couldn’t help but feel angry about the injustice.

Of course they had water in the Arrakeen’s palace. The Harkonnens, The Atreides… People like them never suffered – even in a place like this.

You allowed the maids to go back to cleaning you up. When you were as fresh as never before, you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror. Even your skin looked a shade paler because it was no longer stained with the sand. Your hair was shining and the skilled hands of one of the maids braided it before your wounds were patched up and your body was covered with a semi-transparent dress. It was very feminine and quite revealing and the colours were all hues of orange.

“Na-Baron wishes to see you now, my Lady,” one of the maids bowed her head at you and two other maids took you by your arms to help you walk down the corridor to join Feyd-Rautha since you were still too weak to walk.

He was sitting by the big table that was filled with so much food you had never seen in your life. The colourful fruit filled with juice and water made your mouth drool.

The maids let go of your arms to bow down in front of him. You did not bow down but he did not comment. He had his legs placed up there on the table’s surface and he smirked at you, beckoning you over with his finger.

“Come, Princess,” he mocked your title and you limped towards him. “Leave us,” he ordered the maids and they left the room with their heads kept low out of fear and respect.

You finally reached the table and you grasped the edge of it for support as you moved even closer to Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You were not scared of him because you were not scared of death anymore and his title did not intimidate you because you were of noble blood, too – even though in his eyes you had to be a dirty savage anyway.

His face fascinated you because it was so unnaturally beautiful in a way that no Harkonnen should be. But still, you kept staring at his face with nothing but pure hatred.

“You must be starving,” he pointed out at the chair nearby. “Treat yourself.”

“Thank you,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth and took the seat, too hungry to dismiss such an offer.

You were devouring a grapefruit, allowing its sticky juice to run down your chin when Feyd-Rautha put his legs back on the floor and leaned in over the table to take a closer look at you.

“What do they call you, Princess?” He asked in a low, raspy whisper. “Have my men hurt you badly?”

“(Y/N),” you answered and looked deep into his eyes, showing him that you were not scared of him. “I can handle that.”

“That is a pretty name for a strong woman,” he commented. “You will be my slave,” he said casually and leaned back on the chair.

You didn’t know what to say to this, really. You knew that protesting was foolish – you didn’t want to lose the opportunity to keep your stomach full and it was obvious from the beginning that he hadn’t brought you to the palace as a guest anyway. Still, it felt wrong to quietly accept such a fate.

“I am no maid,” you only said.

“Not like that,” Feyd-Rautha smirked. “Not a maid. A special slave,” he explained but you kept staring at him in silence, killing him with your gaze only. He found it amusing as he chuckled. “You know, Princess, you are a daughter of the desert,” he pointed his finger at you and you raised your eyebrow at him. “I was told by a Bene Gesserit witch that a daughter of the desert would give me a strong heir who shall inherit the Empire. The Harkonnen and Fremen bloodline could not be further apart and that is why mixed together they will create the most powerful species of men. An ultimate man,” Feyd-Rautha explained.

“You are the man from the stars,” you mumbled out, feeling weird with the fact that your prophecy had been true, after all.

Feyd-Rautha was taken aback by your question and he had no idea what it meant but you did not feel like explaining.

“You want me to be your whore. You want me to push out your heirs but they will not be any powerful, ultimate beings, Na-Baron. They will be pure chaos. That is the only thing that can ever come out of our bloodlines mixed together,” you pointed out harshly. “You poison my world, you oppress my people, you killed my family. And now you’re asking me to be your concubine.”

“I must have missed the part where I am asking,” Feyd-Rautha clenched his jaw. You were getting him angry and it was nearly funny how spoiled he was that he really had thought you would agree to such a proposition after such a past.

“Kill me,” you requested and put the grapefruit down. “Kill me because I will be no use to you. I will never be your whore and I would rather die than give birth to your sickly bastards.”

“Why are you loyal to the people who left you behind to rot in the sand?” He asked, tilting his head. He was no longer angry but simply curious.

“That is the custom,” you only answered.

Your relationship with your tribe and your world was of a difficult kind but Feyd-Rautha did not need to know about it. He was an intruder, an outsider, an oppressor. He didn’t deserve to know your heart.

“You can’t run away from your prophecy, Princess,” Feyd-Rautha reminded you before leaving the table and leaving you alone inside the room.

When he left, you went back to eating – as much as you could and as fast as you managed. You felt like an animal and a savage indeed but there was no one to witness that desperate act anyway and you could not remember the last time you had something in your mouth.

Feyd-Rautha did not bother you personally but the maids were following you around and even though you were given your own room with a beautiful view of the desert, you were never truly left alone. You had beautiful but pretty humiliating dresses to wear and you were given baths every day which felt like a profanity for a Fremen.

You were well fed but most of the time you were bored. You knew that Na-Baron was awaiting your answer. You just hadn’t been told how much time exactly you had to make a choice.

Choosing death was simple and easy. Choosing to be his slave-concubine meant betraying your people and betraying who you were, even though you had always felt like you did not fit in with the Fremen and you always wanted to leave Arrakis. It had been a distant dream, too foolish and impossible to even be mentioned to anyone. But now, it could be true. As Feyd-Rautha’s new pet that he seemed to already be pretty fond of, you would be able to visit other worlds.

Your prophecy had claimed, after all, that the man from the stars would come for you. His prophecy had claimed that the daughter of the desert would give him a powerful heir. If it was true and you would become a mother of the future Emperor – well, that was quite tempting, indeed. No matter the price.

Staring at the desert behind your window, you were hugging yourself and biting on your lower lip while you were spending your evening overthinking – it had been your only occupation lately.

You had a feeling that this evening Feyd-Rautha would join you because you were left alone by your maids which was unusual. And indeed, a few moments later the doors opened again and he walked inside. His steps were heavy and confident as usual. It would be your first conversation ever since the one after your arrival.

“My Princess,” he greeted you in that harsh voice of his as he stood behind you and put his hands on your arms in quite a gentle but still very possessive manner.

“I have not made my decision yet,” you only said.

“Decision?” Feyd-Rautha was surprised and then he laughed. “You do not get to choose. Do you think I would let you choose death when I know that your womb might give me an heir that has been promised to me in a prophecy?” He lowered his voice and his words sent a chill down your body. His lips were brushing your neck and earlobe and you tried to get away from his grip but he tightened it and you couldn’t do anything about it.

“I should have killed myself,” you drawled out through gritted teeth.

“I suspected you might do so, therefore I ordered the maids to invade your privacy all day and night, my Princess,” he smirked. You could feel his lips curling on your skin.

“I’m going to kill every child you put inside of me,” you threatened.

“You can try,” he kept smirking but his grasp tightened even further.

“I will not be your slave,” you protested and kept shaking your head even though you knew it was pointless.

“Concubine,” Feyd-Rautha tried to convince you as if he really cared for the transaction to go pretty smoothly. And, apparently, he was in a mood to bargain.

“Wife,” you spat out and a long silence occurred. His grip loosened and he took a step back, eyeing you up and down as he let out a deep laugh. You turned your head around to look at him. “I won’t push out bastards,” you stated.

“I have no desire for a wife,” Na-Baron dismissed you.

“And I have no desire for a husband but that is the only way I see it working,” you explained. “Of course you don’t need my permission to do anything with me. You might use me, imprison me to make sure I won’t get rid of your spawn and then you can kill me. But I am not as weak as you think of me, I am a daughter of the desert. I will change your life into hell and I will make you regret every hour, every day until I eventually die but believe me, I will make this time pass by very slowly,” you threatened.

“And why would I want to marry such a woman?”

“Because I have not described a wife. I have described a slave,” you explained. “Do you wish to know what kind of wife I would be?” You raised your eyebrow and took a step further towards him. He seemed to be intrigued as he tilted his head and you smirked to yourself. It seemed to be working – your plan to tempt him and convince him.

You had to secure your future and your position and since he was your oppressor, you felt no guilt about using manipulation to get there.

“You might think of me as lower than you but I am a Princess just like you are a Na-Baron and only our customs differ. Imagine taking me back to your world, your exotic war prize from Arrakis. You can dress me up in those pretty dresses and show me off, swollen with your special heir. I am a savage to the outsiders but couldn’t you turn the tables and make it an advantage? Your wild, savage wife that nobody knows anything about and who everyone fears?” You whispered, seductively.

“I know what you're doing,” Feyd-Rautha breathed out but even though he was aware of you trying to manipulate him, he was visibly giving in anyway. “You’re going to kill me in my sleep,” he added, looking intensely into your eyes and you chuckled at that.

“Perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “But isn’t the prophecy worth the risk?” You asked.

After all, you were sacrificing and risking a lot, too. And it would be only fair if the transaction costed you both the equal amount.

“You are the jewel of Arrakis,” Feyd-Rautha chuckled and raised his hand to undo your braids and watch your hair let loose.

“And you are its poison,” you remarked as he smirked, eyeing you up and down.

“Together, we can rule over the worlds,” he whispered.

“Or destroy them,” you added.

Na-Baron shook his head but the smirk remained on his lips. He found it amusing that you had an answer for everything and how gloomy they all were. However, so far, it was entertaining for him. He brushed your collarbone with his fingertips.

“I surely have more experience in destroying them than I have in ruling over them,” he confessed but the hunger in his eyes was a clear message to you that he did not mean only Arrakis but also women overall.

“Some are too wild to be ruled over and too wild to be destroyed,” you informed him and he found your eyes again after staring at your chest and neck. For the first time, you saw that he was genuinely intrigued. Perhaps he finally saw you as a challenge. A riddle. A savage to tame.

Whatever would keep you alive and in a position of power.

Because no matter how much you were trying to convince yourself that you were ready to die, this life stubbornly seemed to keep you alive and there must have been a purpose in it.

Therefore, you were ready to receive everything this new life had to offer for you now. As if you had died in that temple and now you were given a second chance.

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months ago

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Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin.

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured.

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem.

— What are you doing here?

Ah.

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad.

— Can’t you talk?

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk.

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say.

— What is that?

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner.

— I’m not…that.

— I can see.

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water.

Hm.

Is it supposed to be this big?

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen.

— Why?

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake.

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men?

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order?

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky.

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either.

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that.

— Are you cold?

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me.

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How?

— Do you have a husband?

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them.

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja?

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan.

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt?

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube.

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird.

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you.

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling.

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control.

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek.

— Are you going to leave soon?

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you.

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this.

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important.

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig x you #konig cod #cod konig #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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carakook · 9 months ago

Text

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #smut #fiction #fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts smut #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #faceclaim

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kpop---scenarios · 3 months ago

Text

The One (1)

Pairing: Mafia! Lee Know x Reader

Warning: Kidnapping, Mentions of Blood, Weapons, Launguage, and Smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOY INTERACT]

Word Count: 15.6k

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited

@silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz @ayyonoona

@31maze13

Fuck, you were tired.

You knew that going out the night before you had to work was a bad idea, but you have always loved a good bad idea, and you only live once so what the hell. You and a friend had gone to check out a club you'd heard a lot about but had yet to experience, and when you tell people you had the best time, you fucking meant it. The vibes in that place were immaculate, the drinks were strong and flowing steadily, not to mention the music they played were all the most perfect songs for dancing and grinding. You'd never had so much fun out, which is why by the time you looked at a clock, you realized it was 6am, and you had to work a double shift in 6 hours. But by the time you had gotten home, showered, ate and crawled into bed, you had to be up in 4.5 hours, and you just knew you were going to die of exhaustion today. And you were right. The day went by so slowly and the bar fluctuated in busy times, leaving you energized but also so exhausted.

Finally, you hit the last five hours of work but you knew that it would go by the slowest. It was only 10pm, and all you could focus on was the dull hum of the shitty music that played through the almost broken overhead speakers. The smell of beer and bleach surrounded you, although the smell gave you a headache it also was a sense of comfort, you were too used to it now.

You stood up, trying to shake the tiredness off, if you stood around any longer you were definitely going to fall asleep on the bar. You had been fine earlier, when it was actually busy but after the mid evening rush, you had only gotten one table, and they weren't pleasant. You walked over to the couple that had sat in the very back of the bar to ask if they needed anything else.

“No.” the woman spat, glaring at you before turning back to the man she was with. You say nothing more, instead walk back towards the bar to find something, anything to do. Instead of doing anything, you stood behind the bar staring at the clock. Maybe if you stared at it, then time would speed up.

It didn't.

You’d never seen time move so slowly until tonight. It was a Sunday, the one night of the week that you technically weren’t scheduled to work. However, you decided to be a nice person and take the shift from your co-worker, who was the girl who also shared the same name as you. She tried to explain to you why she couldn't work but honestly you didn't care enough to listen to Y/N 2.0's reasoning for needing it covered. You figured it was for some shady reason that she would try to cover up with something not so shady. You knew that because she was shady. She constantly had questionable people hanging out in the bar, they were always whispering while their eyes darted around the place, they were so paranoid and it weirded you out but she was kinda nice and did the bare minimum of her job, so you didn't care too much. You're brought out of your thoughts a few minutes later when the man comes up to pay his tab, while also whispering a slight apology for the woman he was with.

“No worries, you two have a great night.” you smile. The woman scoffs at you as she grabs the sleeve of the man, yanking him out of the bar. You just shook your head, you didn’t want her man, you just wanted your bed. You wanted to cry, you could hear your bed calling your name. Why the fuck was a bar even open until 3am on a Sunday? You cleaned off the table, looking around the empty establishment and heavily debated on closing early. It was now 10:45pm, and you still had just over four hours until you were done but you weren't waiting that long. There's no way.

12:00am. You’d give it a little over an hour and if no one showed up in that amount of time, you were going to close. You’d happily take the anger from your boss if it meant you could get out of this hellhole at a decent time. You went to the back office and told Gary that you were going to close early if no one showed up. He just grunted at you, he didn’t care. He was just there to do the cashout and go home, he wanted nothing else to do with anyone or anything.

You did all your closing things, sweeping and mopping the floors, washing the dishes, cleaning everything for the next person to open in the morning.

11:58 pm, you anxiously watched the clock. There was still no one there.

11:59pm you walked to the door. You were just about to lock it when it was pushed open, and 3 men casually walked in, grins on their faces.

You immediately felt uneasy.

"You're still open right?" One of the men asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I was about to close." You admit.

"The sign says you’re open until 3am though." One says, raising his eyebrow and glancing at the clock. “It’s only 12:01am.”

"It’s been extremely slow, so I was going to close.” you say. “But you’re here, so we're open." You say through gritted teeth, forcing a smile.

You had been so looking forward to crawling into your bed.

"What can I get you?" You ask, hoping it would be a beer each and then they would leave. Maybe they would sense your exhaustion and take pity on you.

"3 shots of tequila, and 3 whiskey and cokes." One man says.

“OKay.” you smile, heading back to the bar to make the drinks. As you're pouring their drinks you glance up, glancing at them and notice they are watching you. You couldn't help it, you had a horrible feeling in your stomach, and the vibes they had, they weren't good.

You brought their drinks over to the table, trying to hide your nervousness. You set each drink down with a shaky hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself.

"So, what’s your name, beautiful?" One man asks before taking his shot.

"Really Felix?" Another chuckle.

"Don’t act like you don’t want to know either, Hyunjin." The other laughs.

"I know I do." The last man smirks.

"So there, all three of us want to know." One smiles.

You stand there, debating. Do you give them your real name or do you make a name up? They stared at you, waiting for you to say something.

"Um, it’s Y/N." You say.

"Well!” one of them exclaims. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He smirks. You give him an awkward half smile before walking away, but not before you hear the one named Felix whisper "It's her."

After you had served their drinks and checked on them again, you went to the back off, just to warn Gary. the feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away and you wanted him to be aware.

“Hey Gary, there's some shady men in here, I don't like their vibes so if I scream, please come help me.” you whisper, looking behind you to make sure one of them wasn't standing there.

“Sure, maybe.” Gary says, not looking at you.

If anything happened, you were totally on your own.

Around 2:30 am, you asked if they needed anything else, especially considering none of them ordered anything else, and sat there staring at you for the last 2.5 hours.

"Just the bill please, Y/N." Hyunjin smiles, pulling out his wallet.

You print off the bill, and gently place it on the table before walking away. You finished cleaning the glasses from their table as Hyunjin tosses some money on the table. You went to the back to put the glasses away and by the time you were back up front, they were gone, and there was a $100 bill left for the $30 bill.

At least you got a little something tonight.

You squeezed your eyes shut as a large yawn took over. You were finishing up the last of the organizing before you were finally done. Your feet felt heavy, they dragged as you walked around switching off the lights. Your body became more tired as you gathered your belongings before walking out the back door.

The crisp cool air hits your face as you leave the building, closing the door to lock it. The city is quiet, all you can hear is the gentle breeze of the wind along with faint sounds of the booming nightlife from the downtown area. there was always something going on down there, where you worked though, not many people wanted to go there late at night.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, you began your walk home. You always preferred walking as opposed to wasting money on a cab, especially since you didn't live very far from the bar. You never had an issue on your way home in the past, so you never thought that tonight would be any different. If anything, you’d encounter someone who cat-called you but never did anything else. It wasn’t the safest neighborhood but nothing bad had ever happened to you.

However, tonight, you couldn’t shake that bad feeling. You had thought when the men left and you were headed home that you would feel even the slightest bit better, but if anything, you felt worse. It was like your body was screaming at you that something was going to happen. You continued on your way, keeping your head down, only glancing up to see where you were going, but you could hear the footsteps behind you. You tried to keep your pace and whoever it was was staying steadily behind you. When you slowed down, you could hear them slowing down. As you picked up your pace again, you could hear them speeding up. You held onto yourself a little tighter, taking deep breaths, trying to ease the hard knot in your stomach. You muttered to yourself, telling yourself that everything would be okay and you were almost home.

Your pace increases and you breathe a little easier as your apartment building comes into view, until the sound of footsteps behind you quicken, becoming louder and faster. Your breathing becomes heavier as you run to the stairs of the front door, your hand almost latches to the railing, just before you could pull yourself up the stairs, you feel something grab onto the back of your jacket, pulling you backwards. Your stomach dropped as your eyes shut, bracing for the impact of the concrete, but instead you met with a hard chest and arms wrapping around your body.

"Oh sweet, Y/N. Our boss will be so happy we found you. He’s been trying to get a hold of you, you know. He wants his money." the voice says, it sounds familiar.

You open your eyes wide. "What? What boss? What money?" You ask, panicking. You open your eyes and immediately recognize the men, the same ones who were in the bar earlier. You try to get up so you can run away but his grip is too tight.

"Don't play fucking stupid. We know it’s you, it won’t work. Let's go." The one whose name you hadn't heard snaps, grabbing your arm tightly, yanking you with him.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about" you scream, trying to fight off his grip.

"Don't play stupid Y/N. We got your place of employment and your hours. Stop trying to act like you don't know you owe Lee Know $700k." Hyunjin says.

What? Who the fuck was Lee Know? The most you owed was $67 to your cable company. You didn’t know what to do, he was dragging you towards a van.

Scream Y/N, scream!

“Help! Someone please help me!” you scream as loud as you can. “Changbin, shut her up!” Felix spits.

Changbin slaps his other hand over your mouth, trying to quiet you down. You bite his hand, he yelps, shoving you down to the ground. You smack your head on the hard concrete, almost knocking you out. You quickly try to scramble to your feet, you need to run away, go anywhere away from here. You're caught by your ponytail by Hyunjin, he yanks you down to the ground, pinning you down with his body.

“Stop fucking fighting, you can’t get out of this.” he snaps, pulling you up and shoving you into the van.

“It’s not me,” you cry as you lay on the floor of the van, your head throbbing.

The whole time you were in the van, you tried to tell them they had the wrong person, and you couldn’t understand why they didn’t believe you. You had no idea who Lee Know was, what money they were talking about and why they thought that it was you who had it.

As you try to plead with them again, as the van abruptly stops, the door slides open and a bag is placed over your head. You tried to fight them off, to run away, to get your arms free. You tried digging your feet into the ground but nothing you did worked. The only thing it got you was a tighter grip, fingers digging into your skin, you knew there were going to be bruises left on you.

The three men drag you inside a building but you never stop trying to fight them off. "You've got the wrong person, I'm telling you." You plead.

"Shut the fuck up." Changbin snaps. Forcing you down onto your knees. "Felix, go tell him that we have her."

You hear the footsteps moving away from you, you assumed it was Felix going to do what Changbin told him to do. You hope they get hell when they find out you’re not who they’re looking for. Your stomach twists and turns, the anxiety is beginning to eat you alive, the unknown is terrifying.

What was going to happen to you?

Seconds later you're pulled up to your feet and forced to walk forward. "Get in there." Changbin snaps, shoving you through a door, you lose your balance, falling to the floor. Someone yanks your arm, helping you up to your knees only.

"Here you go boss. Here’s Y/N." Felix says, pulling the bag from your head.

The chair behind the desk turns around, all you can see is the silhouette of a body sitting in the chair. The light behind him shone on his face, covering it. You jumped when he spoke, his voice was deep, yet smooth like velvet.

"You're kidding me, right?" He asks. You can tell he was pissed by his voice.

"No, you asked for her. Here she is" Changbin says.

"I did ask for Y/N, but that's not her." He says.

"What?" The three men say, looking at each other.

"I said, that's not fucking her." He says again, his voice getting increasingly angrier.

"Y/N from Spuds, this is her Minho!" Felix panics. ”She served us there, she said her name was Y/N!”

"There's another Y/N that works there." You whisper, keeping your head down.

"So now we have two problems." Minho snaps. "First, the girl you're supposed to get is out there, who fucking knows where, with my fucking money." He yells. "Second problem, we have a beautiful girl here who now knows a little too fucking much.” he pauses.

“So boys, what do you expect me to do about it? Do I kill her because you're all fucking morons, or let her go?” Minho asks, crossing his arms.

You were feeling brave, and honestly you had nothing to lose. Minimal friends, no good family, so if speaking up got you killed then so be it.

"I mean.” You start, looking around the room. “I personally, I think you should let me go. I work in a shitty bar at a shitty wage. So really, I'm in no position to be telling anyone about anything." You tell him, hoping that he'll see you're anything but a threat to him.

"You're fucking delusional if you think the boss will just let you.." Felix begins before being interrupted by Minho.

"She can go.” He says, standing up. “But I have conditions.” He grins. He comes out of the light and you feel like you can't breathe. He's drop dead gorgeous. He's the type of man that you would do anything he asked, just because he asked. He squats down, his face inches from yours. “First thing, if you say anything to anyone, I will find out and I will kill you.” He smiles.

Fuck. Even more gorgeous.

“And the second thing?” you ask, trying to avoid eye contact. You didn't want to set him off by looking into his eyes.

“That's really my only condition.” He whispers, grabbing your chin to look at him. “But remember, I'll be watching you." He smirks.

He helps you up, nodding his head towards the door. ”Go. Before I decide to keep you here for myself.”

"Thank you." You whisper before quickly walking towards the double doors, as you hear some punches and yelling.

You run outside, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Do you go left? Right? Straight? How the fuck were you supposed to get home? you turn around, seeing another man standing there, one you haven't met yet.

“I'm Seungmin. I'll drive you home.” he says, motioning to a car parked on the driveway. You reluctantly get into the passenger seat of the car. Neither of you spoke the entire drive, you didn't even have to tell him your address because he already knew where to go. That was fucking creepy but you were just thankful that you were being let go from such a terrifying situation. Seungmin dropped you off, without a word and drove off as soon as you were out of the car. You went to your apartment, took off your shoes and collapsed in your bed. You were even more fucking exhausted.

Over the next few days, you heard nothing from Minho or any of his guys. You had called in sick the Monday night after the incident, but Tuesday you dragged yourself to work as usual. Your usual routine of getting home late, sleeping late and puttering around until your next shift.

You kinda wished you had seen Minho again, but also not. He was so fucking handsome but you also knew he was a very dangerous man, and that was terrified you.

As the days went on, you'd notice someone on the other side of the street walking sort of behind you until you reached your apartment, different things that were making you feel like you were being watched.

Thursday night rolled around and It was unusually busy for a Thursday. It didn't help that the other girl you were supposed to work with didn't show up and no one you called would come in to help, so you were alone.

And you were slammed.

You were doing your very best to be quick with taking orders, making the drinks, serving drinks, cleaning and clearing tables. It was a lot and you were only one person.

Almost everyone was understanding, except the one table of piss drunk men who were getting more annoyed by the minute. You had been ignoring them as they catcalled you and then yelled at you for not refilling their beers. So you were gonna make them wait.

"Hey! Where the fuck are our beers!?" One of the men hollers at you, laughing with his friends. ”We're fucking thirsty over here.”

You ignore him. You'd told him you would get to him when it was his turn before you started ignoring him, and currently, it wasn't his turn.

"I said we want our fucking beers." He yelled again, abruptly standing from his chair causing it to fall back.

You were going to rage. You put your empty tray on the bar, glaring at the man.

"And I told you, you'll fucking get them when it's your turn. I'm by myself here. I'm trying my best! Have some fucking patience." You snap before putting in the next order of drinks.

"Fuck it." The man spits. "I'll do it myself." He says, moving from his table to walking towards the back of the bar. His friends try to stop him but he's at the point of not listening to reason.

"No you won't." You say, moving to block the entrance behind the bar. "You can't go back there." You tell him.

"I can do whatever the fuck a want." He whispers, his face moving closer to yours. You try to stand your ground, but he's so much bigger than you are, he easily pushes you back until you're trapped against the wall. "And you can't do shit about it." He chuckles, leaning in closer to you. “You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He whispers. You can smell the alcohol and cigarettes on your breath.

You wished someone would come help, but his friends seem useless. They won't even try to control their friend. You need to get yourself out of this situation.

"Get off me." You say, trying to push him away but it was like his feet were cemented to the ground.

"Like I said, I can do whatever I want." He laughs.

“Please just get off me.” You say, you can feel the tears starting as he caresses your face.

"I think she told you to get off her." You hear from behind the man, you faintly recognize the voice.

He turns around, and you try to get away from him, but he holds you in place. You manage to sneak a peek, and you see Minho with Changbin and another man you didn't recognize.

"And who the fuck are you." The man laughs. He looks for his friends, they sit at the table watching.

Minho chuckles. "I’m a.. friend, if you will.” He says, his face stone cold. “She's mine, and I don't like when people touch what's mine." He says, cocking his head to the side.

"And what are you going to do about it?" The man asks, turning around to grab your arm.

Minho sighs, as he makes his way towards you and the man, pulling him off of you and throwing him to the ground. He places his foot on the man's neck, chuckling as he watches the man begin to panic.

“Chan, get his wallet.” Minho says. Chan digs in the man's jacket, grabbing the wallet and handing it to Minho.

"This is what I'm going to do about it..Brian." He says, looking at his license. "Have you ever heard of SKZ, Brian?"

The man gargles a small yes.

"That's mine too. Now, I don't like you, Brian. You don't listen. And I usually just kill what I don't like. Do you understand me Brian?" He asks.

The man barely nods.

"Good. Now you apologize to her, pay your tab with a hefty tip and fucking pray I never see you again, because if I do, I will fucking kill you." Minho finishes, picking the man up by his collar.

Minho and his two men sit down at a table and watch the men scramble to give you everything they had in their wallets and pockets, leaving you with a large tip and a smile on your face.

"Thank you." You say, standing at the table Minho and his men sat at. ”Really. I didn't know what I was going to do.”

"It's lucky I just happened to be in the area.” He says. "Although, I have to ask. How often does that happen?"

"I work like 6 days a week.. and people get drunk everyday.. and men get rowdy often.. so like 4 or 5 days a week." You say, shrugging your shoulders.

He laughs.

You wished you were joking.

"That's not going to do. I'll have Jeongin start doing security here." He says.

"We really can't pay for security, our boss is cheap." You murmur, waving him off.

"Don't worry about it." He half smiles.

"Look, I gotta get back to work, finish cleaning up for the night but.. is there a way I can repay you for tonight and I guess not murdering me last week?" You ask.

You've always been one to repay favors no matter who it was. It's just what you do. Although you weren't sure if you should repay him, you felt like you should.

"Actually.” He grins. “There is. I need you to be my date this weekend to a club opening, your co-worker, the other Y/N will be there." He says.

“Okay.. and what can I do for you there?” You ask.

"What you can do is bring her to me."

"I.. uhh.." you didn't want to be responsible for her getting killed.

"I need to talk to her. That's all." He assures you. You bite your lip as a swarm of thoughts flash through your head. You wanted to repay him, and this seemed easy enough.

"Okay.” You sigh. “I'll do it. What day? What club? And time? I'll meet you there." You say.

Minho smirks. "No, darling." He pauses, adjusting his jacket. "I'll send a car to pick you up and get you ready. See you Friday at 2pm." He says, giving you a small wink before walking out of the bar, leaving his two men behind.

"Are you guys not going?" You ask.

"Boss told us to stay and help out." Changbin says.

"You guys really don't have too.." You begin to say.

"Boss said we have too. We're at your disposal." Chan smiles.

How could you say no to that? If it hadn't been for Changbin and Chan, it would have taken you forever to clean up, kick everyone out and restock for your next shift. You were very grateful to Minho, which also had you thinking a bit.. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. Yes, he was in the Mafia, a leader at that, but he was sweet, to you at least. And you couldn't lie that he was the exact type of fucked up you usually went for.

You weren't completely opposed to the idea of being with him, even if it was for one night. However, you didn't think the life he led was meant for you.

The next day you met Jeongin. He was thin and attractive, but had this aura about him that was terrifying. His first night there, no one thought much of him. So when someone grabbed your ass and wouldn't leave you alone, Jeongin was right there with a sinister smile while he absolutely mangled the man.

No one fucked around after that. Word had gotten around about the new security and almost no one wanted to test him. There were a few drunk frat guys who thought one of them should test it out, wondering if it was a fluke but ultimately they all pussied out, no wanting to risk any harm to their faces.

You thought it was nice having Jeongin there, although you got weird vibes from him on occasion. You'd catch him staring at you, with a blank but thoughtful look on his face. Sometimes he stood a little too close before apologizing and going back to the door. You shrugged it off, but kept a note of it in the back of your head.

When Friday rolled around, you waited outside your shitty apartment for Minho, although you should have known better that he wouldn't be coming himself, and instead sending someone to get you.

"He had a meeting." Chan tells you as you get into the expensive car before peeling away to the mansion that awaited you.

Four long and excruciating hours later, you were ready to be his date. Your hair had been left down, while your face was full of makeup. A smokey eye with winged liner, along with red lips painted on your face. You couldn't deny that you looked hot, even more so when you squeezed yourself into the tight black strapless dress, paired with a pair of black Louis Vuitton shoes with red bottoms.

You were nervous to walk down the flight of stairs, not only because of Minho, but also because you, stairs and heels weren't really the greatest thrupple. One of you was always embarrassed, and it was always you.

"Hold tightly." The stylist tells you, placing your hand on the railing before you go downstairs.

You took your time, trying to hold your head high while watching your step. You weren't of use to anyone if you fell and broke your ankle, or neck.

"You look stunning." Minho tells you, with a slight smile, offering you his arm. Without hesitation you take it, allowing him to lead you to the garage where he even opened your car door.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, as the two of you pull up to the club.

"A little." You admit.

"Find her, tell her you know someone in VIP and bring her up to me. Changbin and Hyunjin are working the VIP door so they already know you." Minho says.

It didn't sound bad. You could do that. "And when you're done, go to the bar and drink to your little heart's desires. Tell Jisung to put it under my tab and he will. I'll come down and meet you when I'm finished."

"Okay. I can do that. Easy enough." You nervously chuckle. "Easy peasy." You breathe.

"You go in. Tell the bouncer that Minho said to let you in." He tells you.

You nod your head and get out of the car. You're a little down the block from the club, couldn't risk having the other Y/N see you and Minho together, it might ruin the plan.

You walk for a few minutes, cutting the long line of at least 100 people and heading up straight to the bouncer.

"Minho said to let me in." You whisper in his ear. The man steps back, his eyes wide.

"Yes ma'am, please go in." He tells you, pulling back the rope immediately while everyone else gets mad, asking why you were so special. You really had to admit, that was an amazing feeling. The feeling of people doing what you ask just because of a name was such an adrenaline rush. You loved it.

Once inside, you headed straight to the bar before trying to find the other Y/N. As you walked in you noticed the music was loud, and the bass went hard but it wasn't overpowering. The air wasn't hot and sweaty like most clubs, so far you were impressed, but that's not why you were here. You needed to remember that you had a specific reason you were here for and you needed to stick to it, but first, You felt like you needed a little bit of liquid courage.

Walking up to the bar, you find a small open space. Giving it your best shot, you yell for 'Jisung' hoping someone would turn around, and they did. Another extremely handsome man. What the fuck was in the water here?

"How can I help you?" Jisung asks, ignoring the others trying to get his attention.

"I'd like a double vodka lemonade." You smile. "And I'm supposed to tell you to put it on Minho’s tab." You say.

He smiles as he nods his head and leaves to make your drink. You sit on a stool facing the dance floor, keeping your eyes open for Y/N. You wanted to get this done as soon as possible but you hadn't seen her yet.

An hour and 4 vodka lemonades later, you finally see her, dancing her little heart out on the dance floor, acting like she didn't just about get you killed a week ago. You grin as you slide off your chair, partially dancing while you walk towards her.

"Hey girl." You laugh, putting on a friendly face as you approach her.

"Hey! Oh my god, What are you doing here!?" She squeals, pulling you in for a hug.

"I'm here with some friends up in VIP! Come, let's get a drink." You offer, hoping she takes the bait.

"Oh my god! Yes please! Let's go!" She laughs, grabbing onto your hand.

Hook, line and sinker.

You hold her hand tightly as you walk up the stairs. You see Hyunjin standing there, looking surprised that you actually found her.

"VIP?" He asks.

You nod your head. He walks to the nearest door, pointing to it for you two. You drunkenly pull Y/N inside with you, where to her surprise there are no other people or drinks.

There's a desk, a large window and a few couches. The chair behind the desk turns, revealing a pleased looking Minho. "Ah, that's my girl. Great work. Thank you baby." He smiles.

You feel the blush on your cheeks spreading. "You can go now." He smiles, shooing you from the room.

"Now, Y/N.." you hear as the door closes.

"Please.." you hear her say.

Your stomach is in knots as you think about what could possibly be happening in there with her and Minho. Changbin seems to notice your hesitancy to leave. He slips an arm around your shoulders. "He doesn't hurt women. Don't worry." He smiles, easing your concerns. You headed back down to the main area, making your way back over to Jisung to get another drink. You sipped as you sat at the bar, watching the stairs for her.

You felt as though you could breathe when you saw her walking down the stairs, body fully intact and leaving the club. Now you can enjoy yourself, finally.

"Two more shots please, Jisung." You laugh at the cute bartender.

Without hesitation Jisung hands over your shots, which you take with ease before heading to the dance floor now, with nothing weighing on your mind. You felt a pair of hands slide along your hips with a body pressed up against yours. When you look back you're met with a face you do not recognize, but in that moment, you don't care.

As you continue dancing with the man, your eyes wander around the club, and that's when you notice him.

Minho.

His eyes followed you like a puppy as you danced with the man. You watched as Minho watched the man's hands travel down your backside, squeezing your ass. He watches the man nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

Your stomach twisted and turned as you tried to read Minho's eyes but his face gave away nothing. He remained just as stone cold as before.

When the song ended, you tore your eyes away from Minho to thank the man for the dance, telling him you needed to go now but before you could finish Minho stood beside you, smirking at the man.

"Hi." He says to you and the man.

"Can I help you dude?" The man asks Minho, grabbing onto your hand.

"No, you can't help me, but I think I can help you." Minho chuckles. "I don't like when people think they can touch what's mine." He snaps, looking at the man's hand holding yours. "So I can help you let go, and help you get the fuck out of my club." He finishes.

Minho snaps his fingers and out comes two other men you hadn't seen before. They asked no questions before grabbing the man you had been dancing with and dragging him away without a care. The man had been pleading to be let go but they did not care.

"Dance with me?" Minho asks.

You nod your head.

He turns you around, your back flush against him as he wraps his arms around your waist, swaying you both to the beat of the music.

"What do I have to do to get you into my bed tonight?" He whispers in your ear.

A small smirk spreads across your face. "Keep going. You're on the right track."

After a few dances with Minho, Felix approaches him, whispering something in his ear that made his brows furrow, and his face instantly twisted in annoyance.

"I have something to deal with. I'll be back." He whispers in your ear, murmuring an apology before walking away with Felix, leaving you on the dance floor, alone.

Instead of standing there, you made your way back to the bar, ordering a couple more shots from Jisung, taking them instantly. It didn't take long for those to kick in and kick out your ability to make good choices. You were already drunk prior to the shots, but these just took it to a whole nother level.

You made a poor decision to leave the bar, stumbling outside, dragging your feet down the street, unsure of where you were, or even where you were planning on going.

"Hey there pretty lady." A man yells from behind you. You turn around, seeing him walking away from his group of friends and coming towards you. "Need some help?" He asks, turning around to wink to his friends.

"I'm fine." You slur, trying to move past him and continue walking on your route.

His hands grip your arms, keeping you in front of him as your head dangles down, your hair in front of your face.

"I think I'll take you home. Take care of you." He says, thrusting his hips towards you as his friends all laugh. "Give you something good for that hangover.” He laughs.

"I think you won't." You hear from behind you, a voice you recognize which makes you perk up immediately.

"And who are you?" The man asks.

"He's a man who wants to be my man… I think." You mumble, snickering to yourself.

Minho chuckles. "Baby, why did you leave?"

You try to spin around, but the man's hands are still latched to your arms, holding you in place.

"Let me go." You say, trying to rip your arm out of his grasp, but he doesn't budge. "I said let me go."

"I don't know. I don't trust this man." The stranger murmurs. "You're coming with me."

"Probably shouldn't trust him. He's terrifying but he will kill you if you don't let go of me. He doesn't like when people touch what's his." You mumble, looking up at the man with a semi serious face.

"She's not wrong." Minho snaps.

"I thought you weren't her man." He scoffs.

"I will be, but regardless if I am or not, I'll still protect her from pieces of shit, such as yourself. So let her go before I make you regret touching her and making inappropriate comments in the first place." Minho snaps.

His patience was wearing thin, and even drunk you could tell.

"I don't think I'll regret shit." The man laughs, with his friends. You weren't sure who this man thought he was, you had no idea who he was or why he was fighting Minho for you, but you currently wished Minho would just take you away from the creep. The situation was not sobering you up.

"Now I'm fucking tired of you." Minho snaps. He grabs your upper arm, yanking you away from the man who stands there confused on what happened. He pulls you behind him before his fist connects with the man's face, dropping him in an instant. "Have any of you heard of SKZ?" He asks the man's friends.

They all immediately begin nodding their heads yes, stuttering they didn't know.

"She's with them, don't fuck with her." Minho warns the group, looking down at their unconscious friend. He gives him one swift kick in the stomach to the man before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and heading back towards the club.

"You can take me home now." You giggle. You can't see it but a small smirk spreads across Minho's face.

"And what would you like to do there?" He asks, his voice low as he carries you down the street.

"You." You giggle.

Just as Minho walks up to the front door, he sets you down, grabbing your hand before you hear the first gunshot.

Instinctively, Minho pulls you to the ground, covering you with his body as bullets fly through the air for what seems like forever. You were too panicked to notice the feeling of warm liquid trickle onto your body as the weight of Minho's body squishes you.

After what felt like forever,, the bullets stop, Minho stands up, pulling you up after. "Oh my god. You were shot." You gasp, looking at his shoulder.

"Shit. I'm fine." He hisses. "We need to get you somewhere safe. Now." He says.

"Minho!" You are here from behind you. Turning around you see Jeongin standing in front of an open car door, ushering Minho inside. He grabs your hand, pulling you to the car, pushing you inside before sliding in beside you.

Jeongin gets in the driver's seat, making a call as he puts the car in drive, taking off.

"Yeah I've got him. Bullet to the shoulder." Jeongin says.

"Tell everyone to meet in my office asap." Minho grunts, sliding his injured arm from his suit jacket.

"Pressure.. you need to put pressure." You stutter, looking for anything to use. You pick up his suit jacket, murmuring a small apology before pressing it to his wound, causing him to hiss. "Can we go to a hospital please." You ask Jeongin whose eyes really haven't left you, you notice he has been watching you off and on through the mirror.

"Chan has medical training. It's fine." Minho tells you. You're not so convinced that's a good idea but you know you can't do anything to change his mind.

You pull up to the house, Jeongin out first to help Minho out before you follow behind them both. "Chan, get your med bag." Jeongin yells, bringing Minho to his office.

"Upstairs. First door on the right is my room. Take a shower, get cleaned up, help yourself to whatever. I'll be up soon." Minho tells you, walking into his office that's littered with his men.

"Find who did this." He spits as the door closes, leaving you alone.

You wander around Minho's room, looking at the paintings, and awkwardly grabbing a shirt from his drawer, before entering his grand bathroom.

You turn on the shower, shimming out of the tight dress you were wearing that was soaked in blood. You step inside, the hot water feels great on your cold skin. You watched as the blood water went down the drain, making it seem as though it never really happened. But the moment replayed through your head like a movie as you scrubbed yourself clean.

You washed your hair using Minho's shampoo, enjoying smelling like him. After soaking for a bit you got out, drying yourself off before slipping into his shirt and leaving the bathroom.

You were surprised to see Minho sitting on his bed, his shoulder banaged, his toned, muscular stomach in full view.

"Are you okay?" You ask, walking over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

"Are you okay?" He asks you instead of answering your question.

"I'm fine." You smile.

"Mhm. You look good in my shirt." He smiles, licking his lips. "I think I remember you saying something about you wanting to do me?"

"That was before you got shot." You pout.

"I'm all good, baby girl. You can ride me no problem." He whispers.

You look down at his crotch, his cock growing harder by the second. You bite your lip, contemplating if you should really do this, considering he had just been shot.

You stand up, facing him with a smile on your face.

"Shirt on or off?" You ask him, cocking your head to the side, playing with the hem of his shirt.

"On. I want to see you ride me while wearing it. " he whispers.

You crawl back on the bed, pulling down his sweatpants, while he helps you the best he can, bucking his hips. Minho's cock springs free, pre cum leaking from his red tip, down his large, thick shaft.

On your hands and knees, you begin to kitten lick his tip, before taking what you can in your mouth. Minho moans loudly as you hollow out your cheeks, forcing his cock down your throat, making you gag.

"Shit." He moans, throwing his head back, as he bucks his hips.

You pull him from your mouth, taking a breath before you softing continue sucking his cock. He bucks his hips again, forcefully shoving himself down your throat, causing tears to well in your eyes.

"Sit on my cock." He demands. You let go of his cock with a pop, crawling up to straddle him. You slightly lift up the shirt you were wearing, holding onto his cock as you line your pussy up. Sitting down, you slowly sink down onto him, as he stretches you out while filling you up completely.

"Fuck. So tight." He groans.

With one hand on your hip he begins helping you rock back and forth, grinding yourself on him. A few minutes later, you discard his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you as you begin to bounce on him, slowly lifting yourself up before pounding down onto him. Minho bucks his hips again and again as you go back down.

You grind your pussy on him, your clit perfectly rubbing against him. Minho reaches up, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers as you cup your other breast, the sound of fucking and moans fill the room.

"I'm.. i'm going to.. fucking cum." You cry out, your orgasm finally reaching its peak as it explodes through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to slow down your movement as you rode through your high but Minho doesn't let you. He snaps his hips, fucking you from below as he chases his own high, seconds later spilling himself into you, coating your walls with his cum.

The two of you stay still for a minute, catching your breath until you notice Minho's wound bleeding through the bandages.

"Let me get something." You say, climbing off of him, putting his shirt back on before running to the bathroom for a cloth.

Just as you enter the bathroom, Minho's bedroom door swings open.

"Sorry to bother you…but we found out who ordered the attack." Hyunjin says.

"Who." Minho asks.

"It was Mingi and his men, from Ateez." Hyunjin explains.

Mingi? As in Song Mingi? Why was your ex boyfriend ordering attacks?

"Mingi?" You laugh. "Song Mingi? No, there's no way. Why would he? No, you've got the wrong guy." You say, waving Hyunjin off.

"Do you know him?" Minho asks.

"We dated for 2 years." You admit. "I know him pretty well and I think I would know if he was into this kinda stuff." You say, twirling your finger around, pointing at them.

"She's a fucking spy." Hyunjin yells, charging for you. His forearm presses against your neck as he shoves you into the wall, pinning you there. You panic, looking at Minho who now just looks confused.

"Let her go." Minho says calmly.

Hyunjin doesn't move.

"I fucking said let her go." He yells, prompting Hyunjin to back away from you. "Get the fuck out. I'll handle this." He finishes.

You watch as Hyunjin leaves his room leaving you alone with Minho.

Your eyes are wide as you stand against the wall, struggling to catch your breath. Minho slowly strolls towards you, his wound seeping blood through the bandages.

He puts one hand out, pressing it against the wall as he leans in closely, whispering in your ear. "You better tell me right now if you're fucking working for them, and if you are, you better beg for your fucking life."

"I-I'm not." You stutter. "I didn't know anything about it." You cry.

Minho pushes himself back, turning to the door and walking away. "If I find out differently, you're dead." He finishes, leaving the room. You slide down the wall, breathing heavily as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened.

Later that day, Minho stands in his office, his head hanging down with his hand in his pocket as his men wait for him to say something. His shoulder throbbed and this entire situation was pissing him the fuck off.

"Hyunjin." He begins. "If you put your hands on her again, I'll kill you myself. Clear?" He asks.

"She's a fucking spy!" Hyunjin retorts, frustrated that no one believes him.

"How dare you accuse her of that." Jeongin pipes up. "She said she didn't know about him, so that means she didn't fucking know. Drop it." He grits, his pissed off facial expression barely moving.

"Seungmin, Felix, find out as much as you can about the relationship between the two of them." Minho orders.

The two head out as Minho dismisses the rest, except one. "Hyunjin." He starts. "If it comes back clean, you drop it. If it comes back that you were right, you know what to do." He says before watching him leave his office.

Minho walks away, searching for one man in particular. He walks into the kitchen, seeing Jeongin on his phone, facing away from the door. "Get it done." He spits, hanging up his phone and turning around.

"Minho." Jeongin gasps.

"Get her to call into work for a while." Minho says. He can't help but notice a small glimmer in Jeongin's eyes whenever he mentions you.

It makes him wonder.

"You're keeping her?" Jeongin asks, walking past Minho.

"For now." Minho says as Jeongin leaves the kitchen.

Jeongin opens the door to Minho's room, seeing you sitting on the bed with your legs crossed and your chin resting in the palm of your hand.

"Get up." He yells, startling you. You jump up, still only wearing Minho's shirt. Jeongin could feel the anger boiling up in him, he tried to let it go but it was hard. "Let's go." He says, turning to walk down a hallway. You follow behind him, trying to keep up as he takes another turn down another hallway and then up a flight of stairs. He leads you inside a dark, dusty room.

"Here." He says, tossing you your phone. "Call in sick to work."

"For how long?" You ask, your voice a whisper.

"Few weeks." He answers, his eyes practically burning holes into you.

You turn away from him, dialing the number to the bar you work at, as you put the phone to your ear you hear the ringing. You're staring at the wall that has a pair of curtains hanging down to give the appearance of a window without actually having a window. Your stomach drops as you continue to look around and see faint splatters of blood all around.

"Hello?" A voice on the other end answers.

"Hi." You whisper. "It's Y/N…I um, I won't be into work for a few weeks."

"Why?"

"I um, had a death in the family.. my… mom." You say.

"Ah okay, sorry about that. See you." He says, ending the call.

You turn around and see leaning against the wall. "All done." You say walking towards the door. You walk through the doorway, Jeongin closely behind you. Right before you hit the staircase you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back before slamming you against the wall. He presses his body against yours, his hand trailing up and down your side before moving up and around your neck. He leans his head in closer to you, his hot breath hitting your ear.

"I can't wait for him to toss you to the side, maybe then you'll give me a turn to play." He whispers. "Believe me when I say, he listens to me more than anyone. Don't fucking lie to us, don't try and play us because we will find out." He pauses, twirling your hair in his finger. "And I will fucking kill you, and I promise, I'll do it with a fucking smile on my face." He finishes, backing away from you before heading down the stairs, leaving you wondering how even after Mingi leaving you 8 months ago, he was still fucking up your life.

Later that evening you were sitting in a chair in Minho's office, as he finished up a call. "Yeah, keep digging. Thanks Felix." He says, letting out a sigh as he hangs up the phone. He raises his head, looking at you sitting there quietly.

"How was your relationship with Mingi if you had no idea about his life?" He asks.

"It was quiet. He told me he worked for some big shot lawyer, so I never questioned the late nights or when he didn't answer his phone. He said he was in court a lot, so it made sense." You shrugged.

"He never showed up covered in blood? Suspicious phone calls? You're telling me he didn't show any signs of not doing what he said."

"He got a lot of calls. Sometimes he would go into a different room, I just assumed he was cheating on me." You admit.

Minho laughs. Before he can ask anymore questions, his phone rings. He answers it, putting it on speaker.

"What?" He asks.

"Minho.. you're not going to like this." Seungmin says from the other side.

"What'd you find?" He asks, glaring at you.

"Her apartment.. It's riddled with cameras and microphones. Someone's been hard-core watching her." Felix pipes up.

You sit up further in your chair, your face confused.

"What?" You whisper, feeling so violated.

"Thanks." Minho says, hanging up the phone.

Seconds later your phone rings on Minho's desk. He looks down and none other than Mingi's name pops up on the caller ID.

"You talk." Minho says to you, as he presses the answer button.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Hi baby, I miss you." Mingi breathes into the phone.

"You ended things with me, Mingi." You spit. "What do you want?" You ask.

"I want to know why the fuck you're sitting in Lee Minho's house right now."

"How.." you pause.

"How do I know? Bitch I know everything." Mingi snaps.

"The fuck you want, Song?" Minho snaps.

"Ah, Minho, the man of the hour." Mingi chuckles. "How's that arm of yours?" He asks. "I assumed you'd leave Y/N alone after that warning, maybe you're not that smart then.. " he laughs. "Let her go."

"Let her go? Nah, knowing how much you want her, makes me want her even more. You know, maybe i'll just fuck her right here on my desk. Do you want to listen to how hard I rail her?" Minho asks.

That shouldn't turn you on, but fuck it really does.

"I'm warning you.." Mingi snaps.

"Or maybe I'll let my men have their way with her. They're all pretty sexually deprived." Minho says before hanging up on Mingi. Minho lets out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair. He was trying to not let Mingi anger him, but he did. He glances over at you, and you're already staring at him.

"You didn't mean that, right?" You whisper. "About your men.."

"You can fuck whoever you want to fuck, I don't give a fuck." Minho snaps.

“What?” You ask. That wasn't quite what you were expecting. “Seriously?”

“Fuck all of then at once. I don't fucking care.” He spits.

"Fine." You scoff, standing up and walking out of his office.

You storm down the hallway, looking for anyone to use for the night.

"You." You call out. "Come with me.." You pause, forgetting his name at the moment.

"Um.. Chan." He answers as you drag him up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Chan asks, looking behind him then back at you dragging him up the stairs. He begins to panic when you don't answer him and continues to drag him upstairs, down the hall before stopping outside Minho’s room.

“I… I can't.” he whispers, his eyes wide as he stands outside his leader's bedroom door.

“Im not going to actually fuck you, Chan.” you chuckle. “No no no, I'm only going to let Minho think I'm fucking you. He claims he doesn't care but he does, or he will.”

“I don't think that's how that's going to play out.” Chan chuckles. You roll your eyes, opening the door to Minho’s room before pulling Chan inside by the neck of his shirt and slamming the door behind you.

You stay in there for an ample amount of time, so that when the two of you come out, it's more believable that he had just fucked you.

"Alright." You say, glancing over at Chan. "Time to go, but first some adjustments."

You walk over to the terrified looking man, and run your hands through his hair, messing it up. After you're done with his hair, you ruffle up his shirt, making him look like he just fucked you good and hard. On your way to the door, you messed yourself up, making yourself look good and fucked before the two of you leave the room; heading downstairs.

"Boss wants to see you." Changbin says to you, passing you on the stairs. You smile to yourself, hoping that it got to him. You were determined to show he cared about you.

You walk just close enough to Minho's office before you give Chan a loud, fake kiss and push him away, making sure to thank him loudly for an excellent time.

"Let's do it again." You yell, walking into Minho's office. "You wanted to see me?" You say, sliding into one of the chairs that sat in front of his desk.

"Did you have a good time?" He asks, his voice low.

"It was great. Why? Jealous?" You ask, a smirk on your face.

Minho chuckles. "My men.." he pauses, walking towards you. He stands over you, leaning down allowing his hands to rest on the arm rests as his face moves in closer to you. "My men value their lives more than that. They wouldn't risk themselves and my trust for them for some pussy." He spits, his voice low. "You're not worth it to them. They won't fuck you. You're mine."

You gulp as he leans in even closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. "And if you fuck Jeongin, I'll kill you both." He grunts. "Also, if you were going to try to make me jealous, Chan was not the way to go."

"So what? Does that mean you're the only one who gets to fuck me?" You ask, scoffing.

"That's exactly what that means." He says, clenching his teeth together. Minho grabs the collar of your shirt, yanking you from the chair and slamming you down on the desk, your face pushed into the stack of papers he had laying around.

Minho pulls your pants down, licking his fingers before slowly working them inside you. "Already fucking wet." He grunts, pulling his fingers out, undoing his pants. He whips out his cock, pumping it a few times before thrusting himself inside of you. He grunts loudly as his hands grip your hips, violently thrusting into you.

"You're not the one in control." He spits. "I am." He finishes, fucking you fast and hard. He thrusts a few times before pulling you out to turn you around. Minho sets you on his desk, ignoring his shoulder pain as he has been all day, pulling your pants off you, tossing them behind him.

You lay back, sticking your legs in the air. He grabs your legs, dragging you to the edge of his desk before sticking his cock back inside you. He can feel you tighten yourself around his cock, making him moan loudly.

“So fucking tight.” He grunts, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck as you wrap your legs around his waist. His hand snakes in between the two of you, and between your lips, rubbing your clit as he continues to grunt while he fucks you. He rubs quickly, making you twitch as you can feel your orgasm building.

"Cum for me." He grunts. You had been waiting for this, your orgasm had been building rapidly as he rubbed himself against you.

"Just like that." You cry out, arching your back as your orgasm pulses through your body, making you shake. "Fuck." You cry out, clenching yourself around him again.

"Dirty slut." He spits as he cums, spilling himself inside of you.

Minho pulls himself out of you, helping you sit up on his desk. Your eyes look to the door and meet the eyes of Jeongin, startling you to jump off the desk and hide behind a confused Minho.

"What?" He asks, looking at you instead of the door. You point towards the door, trying to cover your naked bottom half.

"What the fuck. How long have you been there?" Minho asks.

"Since you started arguing." Jeongin says, his voice unamused.

"What the fuck." You whisper.

"Y/N, get dressed and go." Minho says, ushering you out. You hide under his desk, getting your pants back on before trying to leave the room, moving past a pissed off looking Jeongin.

"You know." Jeongin says, grabbing your arm as you try to move past him. "I could fuck you better, and treat you better." He whispers before letting you go and looking back at Minho.

You leave the room, making your way to the living room where you sit completely uncomfortable as to what just happened.

"I thought we fucking talked about this?" Minho spits, motioning to Jeongin to come closer. "You're to leave her alone."

"I can't help it brother. She's just so.. tempting." Jeongin smirks, licking his lips.

Minho balls his fists up, taking a swing and connecting with Jeongin's face, causing him to stumble back. Jeongin lightly chuckles as he touches his lip, feeling a small drop of blood on his finger.

"Wow brother. Resorting to violence again?" Jeongin laughs.

"I swore to mom and dad that I would watch out for you after they passed. But I will not do this again, I can't have another Lisa situation." Minho yells.

"Y/N is much more important than Lisa ever was."

"Stay away from her. She is mine." Minho threatens.

"I can treat her better." Jeongin spits.

Minho throws another punch, knocking Jeongin back again. He walks forward, hitting him again and knocking him to the ground. Minho climbs on top of him, throwing punches wherever he could get them to land. Jeongin brings his hands up, trying to block the punches as Minho wails on him, Jeongin laughing as he's being hit.

Out of breath, Minho stands up, giving Jeongin a swift kick in the ribs before stepping over him and walking out of his office, headed to find you.

"Let's go." Minho says, motioning to you to stand up.

"Where are we going?" You ask as Minho grabs your arm to pull you away.

"Jeongin isn't stable right now. You need to stay somewhere else." He says before a giant boom shakes the entire house.

Seconds later, Hyunjin runs into the house coughing. "The SUV was blown up." He announces. "It's Ateez. Mingi's here, and he wants her." Hyunjin finishes pointing at you.

"Fuck. Felix, take Y/N and hide her. Now." Minho demands. "Jisung, give me your gun."

Jisung hands over his weapon to Minho, who tucks it in the waist of his pants before hiding it with his shirt. "Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin, come with me." He finishes.

Felix grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you to a room down the hall before closing the door. You stand there, leaning your head against the door to try and hear what's going on.

Minho and his men begin to walk towards the front door, when Mingi appears from around the corner standing with San and Hongjoong.

"Where is she?" Mingi asks, his eyes darting around the room to find you. "I thought I made it pretty clear that you should have let her go. You know better than anyone she's not safe here." Mingi spits, motioning to a beat up Jeongin.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jeongin snaps, moving towards Mingi before being stopped by Hyunjin

"It means, I know what happened to Lisa remember, and I'm sure as fuck not going to let that happen to Y/N." Mingi yells.

Listening through the door you can hear Mingi yelling, saying your name a few times. "If they're talking about me, I should be there." You snap at Felix. He shrugs his shoulders, paying attention to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

Deciding to take it into your own hands, you pull open the door and run down the hallway and into the living room where all the men stand.

"Hey you." Mingi smiles. "Look.." he begins before you cut him off.

"Who's Lisa?" You ask around the room.

No one answers you. "Who the fuck is Lisa?" You ask again.

Mingi looks at Minho and Jeongin. "Are either of you going to tell her? Or should I?" Mingi asks.

Neither of them answer. Jeongin stands there with his arms crossed, his face straight as he stares at you. "Alright then. Lisa is Minho's ex. They dated for a while before she disappeared." Mingi begins.

"Okay.. I don't understand." You say, you're confused on why this is even an issue.

"Jeongin here took a liking to her while they were together. He stalked her, watched her and them together. One day she disappeared, and I can almost guarantee Jeongin had something to do about it. Either he killed her or he has her locked up."

You can hear Jeongin snicker from behind you. You turn to look at him and he gives you a slight smile before winking at you, making your stomach drop.

"You stay here, and you'll end up gone too, which is why you should come with me. Minho knows his brother is unstable but yet doesn't do a fucking thing about it. I can keep you safe." Mingi finishes.

"You say you can keep me safe? I don't trust you. You lied to me for the entire 2 years of our relationship about what you did. I can't.. this is too much." You sigh. "I need to go." You walk away from the group of men, heading out the front door. You walk around the property, heading out into the distance a bit to clear your head. What the fuck were you supposed to do. It took you a few minutes but you decided on your plan.

You went back inside to announce to everyone what you were going to do.

"I'm going home." You say. "I'm going back to work and I'm not dealing with this shit anymore. I just want to go back to my life."

Minho nods his head. "I'll have people keeping an eye on you."

You were surprised, you honestly didn't think he would just let you go.

"I'll take you home." He says. He places his hand on your lower back to guide you out before looking back at Mingi. "Get the fuck out of my house." He spits, walking to his car with you.

A few days later you were getting back into your routine with work and being home. You always had one or two men at the bar with you, and outside your apartment building at all hours of the day and night. Minho was watching you closely, along with his men.

He had told you not to worry about Jeongin but you couldn't help it. He seemed to be uncontrollable and capable of anything.

"See you tomorrow, Chan." You laugh, heading out of the bar.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?" He asks, unsure about leaving you by yourself.

"I'm fine." You smile. "I'm like 5 blocks away and I have pepper spray too." You finish. Chan nods his head, getting into his car to drive away as you begin your short walk home.

About halfway there you hear some footsteps behind you. You try not to let yourself panic and just pick up your pace but the person behind you also picks up their pace. Your chest is heaving as you break into a small run, the person behind you picking up their pace again to keep up with you. The person begins to run faster, but now passes you, making you stop to try and ease your breathing. You probably should have let Chan take you home, your anxiety was too high for this.

You continue walking when a man runs out in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder before shoving a knife into your stomach. "This is a warning for Minho. SKZ better stay out the fuck out of our trafficking district." He spits, pulling the knife out and taking off.

Your hands cover your wound, the blood pouring through your fingers. You fall to your knees, laying on the concrete bleeding out.

You're in and out of consciousness, passing out on the concrete before waking up in someone's arms, being carried somewhere.

"Hospital." You whisper.

"I got you." The man says before you pass out again.

You groan as you wake up, your stomach throbbing but stitched up and bandaged up to heal. You open your eyes but you can't focus, you try to stretch but you have little to no room. Looking around as your eyes try to adjust, you see metal bars surrounding you. You look around more and see a cage you're stuck in suspended from the ceiling. Looking beside you, there's nothing but on the other side there hangs another cage with a dirty looking girl sitting in there.

“What the fuck! Where am I!?” You scream, trying to shake the bars of the cage but you're in so much pain.

“It's no use.” the woman coughs. “No one can hear you.”

“Where are we?” You ask.

“I have no idea.” She sighs.

"What's your name?" You whisper.

"Lisa." She whispers back. Your eyes widen at the name.

"Are you… Minho's ex girlfriend?" You ask.

She cries as she nods her head. "I'm so sorry he got you." She whispers when the metal door swings open from across the room.

You watch as Jeongin walks in with a giant smile on his face.

"My set is complete. My two beautiful girls." He smiles. "Boy, do I have plans for the two of you...” he pauses, his phone now ringing in his pocket.

Jeongin looks at you and Lisa, your hands wrapped around your cage as his phone continues to ring, Minho’s caller ID popping up on the screen. He watches you desperately plead for him to let you go. The wound in your stomach bleeding through the dirty bandages as Lisa coughs so hard she begins spitting up blood.

"Don't say another word. Or I will kill you." He spits, pointing at each of you. "What, Minho? I'm in the middle of something." He says, his eyes darting from you to Lisa, a subtle smile spreading across his face, you don't even want to imagine the thoughts going through his head. "Oh you got a lead on Y/N?" He snickers. "Yeah of course I'll come and scope it out. Sounds fun." He says, hanging up the phone.

"I gotta go, ladies." He says, putting his phone in his pocket and placing a ballcap on his head. "Don't go anywhere." He chuckles, walking away from your pleas and begging.

"How long have you been here?" You ask Lisa whose heaving, her breathing sounding ragged.

"I don't even know." She sighs, trying to find a comfortable position in such a small cage. "Over a year I think."

"How.. How the hell did this happen? Where was Minho? Why didn't he protect you?" You ask in disbelief that he wouldn't have noticed any kind of signs regarding Jeongin.

"It's the same way he didn't protect you from it. He doesn't know all of Jeongin's moves, hell, even Jeongin doesn't know his next move until he does it. He's so unpredictable that Minho never sees it coming. He wants to believe in the best of his brother and can't see all the evil. He doesn't want to believe that Jeongin would do something like this." Lisa says.

"I think he's starting too. He hit Jeongin a few times, and tried to take me away but I said no and I wanted to go home and resume my life. Then I got stabbed and brought here. I'm sure Jeongin was the one who stabbed me too. I think Minho will know that it's Jeongin. He has too." You breathe.

He'll know, right?

"You're sure?" Minho asks Seungmin. Minutes earlier Seungmin stormed into Minho's office saying that someone thought they recognized you, and had seen you a week ago, saw what happened to you but was too afraid to speak up.

"Tell him we'll protect him, nothing will happen to him if he tells us what he knows." Minho tells Seungmin.

Seungmin leaves the room quickly, running to give the information, time was of the essence. Minho didn't want you missing any longer.

"What's going on?" Jeongin asks, walking into his brother's office.

"Someone saw what happened to Y/N." Minho says. "Finally some answers."

He doesn't notice Jeongin immediately tense up, but he tries to not let it show. "Oh?" He questions. "Who?"

"Someone Seungmin found, who saw her walking after the bar closed. I can't wait to get my hands on the motherfucker who did this. I can't do this again." He sighs, grabbing his gun and securing it in the waist of his pants before he walks towards the door. Jeongin stands there, lost in his thoughts before Minho brings him out of it.

"Are you coming?" He asks.

Jeongin shakes his head. "I gotta do something." He mumbles, pushing past Minho and storming out the door.

Seungmin comes around the corner with his arms crossed. "I told you. He knows something." Seungmin states. Minho had a feeling that his brother was somehow involved but he didn't want to believe it. He swore to his parents he would protect Jeongin, but if it turns out to be him, Minho will do what he has to do.

"We need to get out of here." You scream, yanking on the metal bars that barely budge.

"It won't work." Lisa calls over. "I've been trying to get out by myself for a long time. He would let me out.. under circumstances but I refuse his offers. I can't." She says.

"What are his offers?" You ask. Maybe somehow they can be played to your advantages.

"He'll let me out if I agree to be his. But I can't do that to Minho.." She trails off.

"You need to." You exclaim. "Tell him both of us want him. We can take him down.." you begin to whisper as you hear a door creak open. You looked over at Lisa who had a small smile on her lips. You hoped it was Minho whose footsteps you heard but as they got closer, it revealed a frazzled looking Jeongin.

"We gotta move." He mumbles. "He's close to finding you, Y/N." He says, pointing at you. "Maybe I should just get rid of Lisa now." He wonders, a smile creeping across his face, glancing over at her. "I want to hear how her voice breaks as she begs for her life, pleading for me to spare her, saying anything to try to make me second guess my decision, feel something. Even if it won't work.” He grunts. "She'll choose Minho.. fuck, you'll still chooses Minho!" He yells, pointing at you.

"N-no.. I choose you. Jeongin, I want you." You say, scrambling to your knees in the cage, despite your pain, your hands on the bars. "I want you to be mine, Jeongin.”

‘I-I do too..You've done so much for me over the year I've been here. I see how truly sweet and caring you are. Please accept me. You know it's me who you really want." Lisa says, forcing a smile.

Your eyes are wide as you're watching this, you don't want her to trade her life for yours, but what could you do?

"Is that so?" Jeongin asks, walking to her cage. He pulls out a key, unlocking the locks and helping her out before wrapping his arms around her. She struggles to stand, but wraps her arms around him anyway, leaning on him, he holds her closely. It doesn't feel right to him. She's not who he really wants.

"I love you.." She mumbles. "So just let Y/N go.. okay? It's you and me now. You don't need her."

"It's not. She's the one.” Jeongin says, smiling at you. “Your time is up.” He laughs, dragging Lisa from the building. You needed to do something. He was going to kill her.

“Ow… shit. Jeongin.” You cry out. “Please… my wound…” you trail off, falling to the floor of your cage. Jeongin lets go of Lisa’s arm, running to you. He made it to your cage too, jingling his keys to find the right one to unlock it.

“Run!” You scream, watching her bolt out of the open door. Jeongin glares at you, the door of your cage wide open.

“Why did you do that?” He snaps, reaching in for you. You back away as far as you can.

"No no no, please." You cry, trying to squish yourself in the back of the cage so he can't reach you. You try to kick him, and fight him off but you're still weak. Your wound continues to bleed.

"Get out here." He grunts, latching onto your leg and dragging you out and into the floor. He grabs a clump of your hair, pulling you through the door, letting go of your hair, and grabbing your wrist to drag you outside while Lisa continues to run through the field. Jeongin drops you in tall grass, the sun shining down on you, the fresh air surrounding you. He grins as he pulls his gun out, his finger on the trigger.

"Shit." Jeongin spits, pointing the gun at you. Even if he was mad at you, he couldn't kill you.

It's you. He loved you and he was going to have to do whatever he could to make you love him back. He picks you up, dragging you to his car and throwing you in the backseat, before climbing into the driver's seat and spinning out of there. He needs to find somewhere else to take you. He drives the opposite way Lisa ran, trying to figure out the best place to keep you hidden and away from his brother.

"What do you want?" Minho spits as someone knocks on his office door. He was stressed, he didn't know what to do about you. Where were you?

"Hi." A familiar voice whispers. "Remember me?" Lisa asks as she walks into his office.

Minho's jaw drops as he stares at her, she's dirty, wounded and her clothes are torn but it's her. She's here.

"I can't believe it.." Minho says. He briskly walks towards her, pulling her in for a hug. "What happened to you?" He asks.

"Jeongin took me." She cries.

"I knew it." He spits. "What about Y/N? Does he have her too?" He asks.

"I've never met any Y/N's before." Lisa whispers, nuzzling her head back into Minho's warm embrace.

"Jeongin didn't take Y/N?" Minho asks, feeling defeated, but also a little relieved that his brother wasn't involved in your kidnapping.

"But baby, he took me." Lisa pouts, snuggling in closer to him. Minho didn't know how to react to this. She had been gone for so long, and he had moved on, he was falling in love with Y/N, but how did he break it to her when she had just been through something so traumatic.

"Lisa, go upstairs to the guest room, get cleaned up, take a shower and rest. I'll send Hyunjin up with some clothes and a towel for you. I've got some work to do." He says, clearing his throat and awkwardly moving out of her embrace. Lisa looks offended, but he didn't care at the moment. He needed to find you.

"Hyunjin." He calls out

Hyunjin walks into his office, giving Lisa a small nod before focusing his attention on Minho. "Get Lisa some fresh clothes and necessities, but before that, set up a meeting with the informant. I want that information now." He spits.

“Yes sir." Hyunjin says, quickly walking out of the office. Lisa stays behind, watching Minho work, and it made her angry that he didn't care about her right now. The love of his life was standing in front of him after being kidnapped for over a year, and he didn't care.

"Baby." Lisa whines. Minho looks up from his work. "Will you come shower with me?" She asks sweetly.

"Lisa, I'm busy. Go." He spits.

She scoffs. "Can I atleast use your phone?"

He sighs, opening his drawer and digging in it to find an extra phone, there's no way he was going to give her his phone. "Here." He says, sliding a phone and a charger towards her. With a huff she grabs them and storms out of his office, heading up the stairs to Minho's room. She knew he said the guest room, but his room was far more comfortable.

Lisa plugs in the phone to charge and hops in the shower, rinsing off the dirt, grime and smell from her. When she's done, she grabs a pair of shorts and a shirt from Minho's closet, before grabbing the phone and dialing a number.

"Hello?" A voice answers.

"It's done." Lisa says. "I told him I didn't know any Y/N, and that you had only held me captive." She says.

"You fucking idiot, you weren't supposed to say I did it to you. Fuck." Jeongin spits. "You go tell him that I fucking saved you, and you didn't know who took you. That you had gotten shit twisted. Got it?"

"And if I don't?" She asks.

"If you don't, Y/N comes back into Minho's life and you're thrown to the side like the garbage you are."

Lisa hangs up the phone, putting it back on the table to charge more. She stands up, heading downstairs and back into Minho's office to talk to him. She stands outside his office door, her hand hovering just above the door as she listens in before knocking.

"We need to find somewhere safe for Lisa to go. She can't stay here, but more importantly, I need to find Y/N." She hears Minho say.

Shit. She needs to do something, she needs him to forget about Y/N and focus on her. She's here with him right now, she's the one that should matter to him.

Knock

She opens the door slightly, forcing her tears out. "Min?" She sniffles.

"Come in." He says, though he sounds annoyed.

Lisa begins crying heavier now, she looks at him with her tearful eyes, hoping he would be the one to say something first. "You okay?" He asks.

Perfect.

"It wasn't Jeongin who took me.. I lied." She sniffles. "To be honest, I don't know who took me." She whispers. Her entire body shakes, her voice whimpers as she tells him what she knows. "But I'm so scared of him finding me again, this is the only place I feel safe."

Minho notices Hyunjin rolling his eyes, he doesn't believe her story, and frankly Minho isn't entirely sure if he believes her either.

"So Jeongin had no part in your kidnapping, or Y/N's?" Minho asks.

Lisa shakes her head no. "Like I said earlier, I don't know Y/N, but it wasn't Jeongin who took me. I'm sorry for lying about that, baby, he just always made me feel so uncomfortable, so I said his name. But thinking back on it, it wasn't him." She says.

"Are you sure?" Minho asks, wanting to really make sure he was thinking correctly.

"Yeah, it wasn't Jeongin, I swear. He would never do something like that." Lisa says, trying to snuggle her way into Minho's grasp.

Minho's eyes dart to Hyunjin, who's already looking at him. He knows that Hyunjin is on the same page as him. Minho gives Hyunjin a nod, and he swiftly leaves the room.

"Lisa." Minho sighs, moving so he can look right at her.

"Yeah?" She smiles.

He sighs, placing his hands on her cheeks, smiling. "If I find out you're lying about Jeongin or especially Y/N, I'll fucking kill you." He says, dropping her face and storming out of his office, leaving Lisa standing there alone and terrified.

Lisa now knew she fucked up, but Jeongin had her convinced that if she came back into his life, everything would go back to the way it had previously been. She should never have believed him when he came to her with his plan but she desperately wanted to be out of the cage, she wanted to be back into his life and she hated Y/N, she hated that Minho had moved on and she couldn't have let that happen.

“She called a random number.” Hyunjin tells Minho later.

“Did you call it?” Minho asks. Hyunjin nods his head.

“There was no answer. It's a burner phone.” Hyunjin sighs.

“They're working together. I fucking know it.” Minho groans, rubbing his hands on his face.

Before Hyunjin can say anything, Lisa walks into the office. “Hi baby.” She smiles, walking towards Minho.

“I'm busy right now.” Minho says, looking down at the papers on his desk.

“Lisa?” They all hear. Minho looks up, seeing Jeongin standing there. “Wow. It's been so long? What happened? Are you okay?” He asks, walking towards her. Jeongin wraps his arms around Lisa, holding her closely. “Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He whispers to her, pulling away, patting her shoulder.

“You must be so happy.” Jeongin says to Minho, motioning towards Lisa.

“Ha, yeah.” Minho says. “I'm busy, can we talk later?” He says to Lisa and Jeongin. They both nod, walking out of the office. Hyunjin emerges from the corner, sitting in the chair across from Minho.

“I know who can get it out of her.” Hyunjin says. Minho knew who could do it too, but he really didn't want to have that conversation.

“Yeah, Mingi.” He says, pulling out his phone, dialing the number.

“What?” Mingi asks.

“I need your help.” Minho grumbles. “Lisa's back.”

“Oh shit.” Mingi says. “He took Y/N, didn't he?”

“I think so. Lisa said no, but I don't believe her. I need you to find out.”

“You know, if you just lose your morals and start hurting whoever fucks you over, you could do it yourself.” Mingi tells him. “But I'll do it. Bring her here.”

Minho hangs up the phone, looking at Hyunjin. “Go get Lisa.”

Minutes later, Lisa comes into the office, smiling at Minho. “Let's go.” Minho says, grabbing his keys.

“Where are we going?” She asks, climbing into the car.

“Somewhere else where you'll be safe.” Minho says. He can't even look at her, knowing what she's done.

The car ride is silent, until Minho pulls up to the house. “Who lives here?” Lisa asks, getting out of the car along with Minho.

Mingi walks out of the house, a smile on his face. Lisa turns to look at Minho with a horrified look on her face. “Why am I here Minho?” She asks, her voice shaking.

“I know you're fucking lying.” Minho snaps. “and Mingi will get it out of you.” He says, climbing back into the car. He peels off, leaving a crying Lisa, being dragged back into the house.

“Jeongin.” You cough, holding your stomach. “I need a doctor.” You say, you hadn't healed at all and it had been weeks.

“I can't take you to the hospital.” Jeongin says, sitting in the corner of the small building. “You'll leave me.”

“I won't leave you… I promise, Jeongin. But I need help.” You cough.

“I'll be back.” He says, standing up, heading towards the door. You groan, laying your head back down on the floor. You were gonna die here. You knew it.

What felt like days later, Jeongin walks back in through the door, a bag in hand. He walks over to you, kneeling down. He lifted your shirt, removing your bandages, replacing them with new ones.

“Take these.” He says, handing you some pills and some water. You didn't even question what he was giving you, you just hoped that it was going to help you.

A week later, a week of Jeongin giving you pills, and tending to your wound a little more carefully you were finally starting to feel better, on the outside but on the inside you were slowly dying. It had almost been a month, you think, since Jeongin had taken you and it made you wonder if Minho was still even looking for you. You thought he would have found you by now, especially if he was actively looking for you. Didn't Lisa tell him Jeongin had you? Every day you waited for Minho to come and bust through the door to pick you up and whisk you away from this shit hole but you were starting to lose faith. You just wanted to go home.

Weeks later, you were finally healed up, and Jeongin had been fucking with your head the entire time. He almost had you convinced that Minho didn't care for you at all and that he was never going to save you. Tell you that he was the one who loved you, and he would always protect you and take care of you but you knew that it was a lie. You knew he was trying to get into your head and you needed to remain strong but you could make him think that you loved him.

That night, you and Jeongin were laying in the bed, fully in the dark. Tears slipped down your cheeks as your lips trembled. “I love you, Jeongin.” You whisper, hoping he believed you. Maybe he would ease up on you and start giving you a little more leeway.

“You do?” He asks, rolling over towards you.

“I do.” You murmur, trying to not let him hear your voice quiver.

“I knew you’d come around.” He happily sighs, holding onto you tightly.

You fall asleep that night, softly crying, wondering if this was your life now, and if you were ever going to be saved.

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