#trying to grasp my sanity here

[occamstfs]

Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?) 

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing  accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly. 

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?” 

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own. 

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

[g1rlken]

obsessed/possessive felix catton 🫣

Oh. Oh absolutely.

Anon you’re so real for this one🤞

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Obsessive felix

word count: 1.3k (one shot)

Warnings: the req +sorry if he gets a bit toxic

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For someone who grew up with a second pair of everything irreplaceable items were rare for felix. Or people, most relations superficial, nothing money can’t buy. That’s why she was different. He had to work for her, to be noticed to gain her affection. As unusual as it was for him he didn’t mind it.

Before they even started dating, it was difficult for felix to try and get her attention. They had different majors and one friend group in common most of whose gatherings she rarely joined. Occasional weekends here and there. He asked about her around, causality came naturally to him so most didn’t suspect a thing. Her lectures, her schedule, library visits, he memorised it all within a time span of a few days.

Felix would pick up the book she’d be returning at library, at first it was only to get an insight to what she’s interested in. What she reads in order to strike a conversational of coincidentally having same interests. However her long kept book smelt like her fragrance. It made him question his sanity halfway through a book on fluid mechanics if he was trapped by the contents of the book or the scent of her from it, it was the latter.

Much pinning, much accident meetings later they’d finally hit off. From his own past patterns and experiences in romance felix knew he would feel less and less intensely for her once he’d have her. She surprised him. As did himself, his feelings grew much more intensely than decreasing.

He felt wholly consumed by the being of her and it still felt not enough. He wanted to be drenched like the sand by the sea during a storm, he wanted her to be the rays that open his life like the petals of a morning glory flower. Because in one sense she was the answer to his glory, the glory he’s had to work for. One he wanted to announce to the whole world that she was his and the one he wanted to shield from the whole world because she was his. And his only.

She brought a sense of grounded serenity with her, in the morning with her locks softly spilled over his chest as she’d sleep through her first alarm which would evidently wake him up before her but he’d be glad. Because it would result to let him have his most cherished moment, the softest of mornings with her in his arms. The second alarm would only make him hold her tighter, not wanting to let go off her so soon.

One would forgo and turn a blind eye to a lot of things for love, his tender love came at the expense of his intense one as well. Though he was the softest of lovers, with her behind closed doors. It could most certainly be felt being with him however at certain instances it could be accounted for just how fiercely he loved. Aggressive make out sessions at the party, if someone stared at her a bit too long. It got awkward at times, in his lap or against the wall in a crowded dimly lit room. Not for him of course, it could get overbearing at times though. “You always pull something like that!” She complained as they returned from this one party, felix thought his possessive traits were subtle.

“Like what? Like kissing you? My girlfriend?” He questioned with a scoff as he removed his jacket and hanged it on the door hanger inside her dorm room.

“No-but a whole make out session? There were people around!” She complained trying to reason with him, had she felt uncomfortable with it she could’ve told him during it but it wasn’t that. Yet there was something she couldn’t pinpoint or maybe chose not to.

“It was a party” he scoffed as he walked over to her and pulled her closer to him by her waist to pause her whining, “it’s common to make out with your girlfriend at a party.”

She pulled away from his grasp, not wanting to have the firmness of the conversation she was trying to have be dismayed “No it’s always like this, especially at parties. You basically manhandle me the entire time-“

“Manhandle you?” He stopped her midway, scoffing at the sound of her baseless proponent “Really? So dancing with you, kissing you is now manhandling you?”

“It’s not, but your arms around me, kissing my neck, trying to kiss me while I’m in the middle of a conversation with someone that’s so unideal.” She advocated for what she was trying to say, she knew he was always big on physical touch and she never once minded it. However it wasn’t the first time it had happened where she’d try to have a normal conversation with anyone and felix would kiss the nape of her neck as she’d talk, pull her into his lap if she was sitting next to him. Completely disregarding whoever she was conversing with.

“So having a conversation is much more important than being close to me?” He asked, his tone was mild and composure relaxed but he felt border line offended.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” she sighed rubbing her eyes for a second, “you know that’s not how I’m saying it-“

“—Oh no please enlighten me how much of an inconvenience it is if I kiss you in front of other people!” Felix interrupted her.

“We just seem like that obnoxious PDA couple everywhere we go! And it’s not just this party or parties in general-everywhere you just…” she trailed off looking for the right word.

“Suffocate you.” He filled in for her with a scoff and looked away from her crossing his arms.

“No.” She replied firmly “No you just get overbearing. Where does that come from, talk to me.”

“Do you seriously want me to justify myself for wanting to be close to my girlfriend? Do you hear yourself?”

“Do you hear yourself felix!” Exclaiming she sighed regaining her composure, “Its like you can’t stomach the fact that I exist outside of this relationship, why can’t you just commute and tell me what’s your issue?”

“You don’t get it do you?” He let out a dejected scoff and approached closer to her, “it is fucking infuriating to see you paint me out like I’m irrational-I’m not impulsive because I’m madly in love, y/n, I am madly in love with you and I know exactly what I’m doing. To safeguard what we have, after you the most precious thing that’s happened to me is our relationship. We come off as an obnoxious couple? I come off as possessive? Fuck it.” He stated confidently as he took her hands in his, “I care about you, your sense of self and individuality is very dear to me and I’m sorry if you feel otherwise. I’ve never been in this place before where losing someone would worry me but losing you terrifies me to my core. I’m not irrational, I'm maybe rational to the point of obsession. But I am just a man who loves you more than anything in this world.” His gaze never lifted off of her eyes the entire time and he felt a bit surreal having confessed his all-consuming, all-encompassing love for her. There was a sense of vulnerability in being freed of the truth.

“Felix…” she breathed as her gaze softened, his flaws were the same as hers in a different dynamic and he was rough around the edges but now after what he confessed? She saw his love in a different much serious and committed light. Devoted. She looked down at her hands in his and back up at him with a soft smile adorning her face, she didn’t know how else to reply to him so she just leaned forward brushing her lips against his in a passionate kiss. He held held her in his arms lengthening the kiss.

“You’re mine. Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to cherish.”

“—Yours.”

[elliespeach]

the air that i breathe | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ "because i can make it quick, or i could make it so much worse." ´ˎ˗

synopsis: a camping trip you and ellie embark on takes a devastating turn. with you in the hands of raiders ellie's sanity is brought to her breaking point and she will stop at nohting to get you back. wordcount: 8.3k + warnings: 18+ ellie n readers headspace is very dark!! depression, panic attacks, horrible desperation, and lots of trauma responses that are vividly described. graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, reader is confined in a cell by chains, food/water deprivation, hallucinations, torture (reader by raiders, ellie to the raiders) ellie is basically santa barabra ellie but multiply it by thirty n reader is like trapped in the dark so i think that counts as claustrophobia. this fic can b very triggering so pls take the tags seriously!! different povs (ellie n reader) they are seperated for most of this fic, theres some fluff in their dreams but thats truly as soft as it gets author note: pls pls read me!! this story came to me randomly, its not a traditional fic in my eyes but i hope u guys like it nonetheless!! the name comes from the show bridgerton, one of violets lines towards her husband and i was like THAT is true love so here we are :) theres a lot of in game elements to this story on ellie's part so i hope i did that justice :)) i'm a lil nervous to post this im ngl so pls be kind and lmk if yall like it plsssss i beg of u i wanna make this a multi part fic esp w the way it ends so any feedback will be appreciated!! ily guys enjoy

ellie’s pov 

– three days after the kidnapping

the first thing ellie hears is the low, familiar voices of joel and tommy. as their mumbled conversation rings through her ears, her head throbs. a groan escapes her lips, bringing her hand up weakly to rub it as if it would help. ellie opened her eyes slowly, the pain intensifying from the sun shining through the windows. her vision came to focus, looking around it was the infirmary in jackson. she was laid down in one of the beds and when her eyes landed on joel and tommy, they looked at her sympathetically. 

joel took small steps toward her, barely able to make eye contact. “how ya feelin’ kiddo?” he asked, painfully sitting himself down at the end of her bed. ellie wasn’t able to read him clearly, and then she started thinking. why am i in this bed? her mind raced and it must’ve been obvious to her company because joel spoke again. “it’s gonna be okay.” 

she frantically searched through her foggy mind, everything was so blurry and out of order. she thought of you. the only thing that came to the front of her mind with ease. the camping trip, she thought to herself. she saw you in her head, all bundled up in the sleeping bag and wearing ellie’s shirt. her lips began to curl at the ends before she realized you weren’t here by her bedside. she remembers leaving the tent that night, for what reason she doesn’t know, but you stayed behind, cuddled up in the sleeping bag.

thats when– your scream. it echoed in her head, taunting her. the quiet forest that surrounded the two of you amplified your terrified scream and ellie’s face grimaced at the memory. she knows she ran to you, why was i so far away from you? her brain was waking up and with it, horrible images flashed in front of her. the tent that had been cut open, the rusty old pick-up truck, the men that had you in their grasp, the last glance ellie had of you before the bud of a gun was slammed into her head. it all came flooding back in an instant. 

ellie looked up at joel, tears brimming over her eyes. she spoke in a low voice, but despite the tears that fought to fall, her tone was flat. “where is she?” 

joel was quick to answer, “we’ve been tracking them–” 

“how long have i been out?” she boomed, trying to sit up but her brain pounded against her skull, forcing her back down in the bed. joel moved up, sitting closer to her but couldn’t find the words, his heart ached for ellie. he looked to tommy with a solemn expression, and his little brother stepped forward. 

“it’s been three days, ellie,” tommy vocalized softly. “we’re doin’ all we can, i promise.” 

“obviously it’s not fucking enough!” ellie shouted, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes tight. you came to mind when she did, usually she pictures you happily; picking a flower and tucking in her hair, taking a nap on ellie’s couch with your head in her lap, posing while she drew you. you were the spitting image of innocence in her mind. but as her eyes shut now, all she could see was the absolutely heart-wrenching image of your face as you were thrown into the truck. 

her eyes opened almost immediately, unable to see it even for a second longer. her cheeks became wet as the tears poured out of her, her breathing became erratic and she clutched her chest. joel was quick to comfort her but it only did so little. “we-we have to fi-find her,” ellie managed to speak through panicked breaths, feeling her chest about to burst. 

the pain in her head was nothing compared to this, and it almost felt non-existent in the face of you being gone. being with them. whoever they are, whatever they want with you. they should have taken me. it should have been me. it should have been me. it should hav–

“ellie, breath–” joel cooed next to her, rubbing her back and removing her from her thoughts. “we’ll find her.” 

“i’m co-coming with you,” her chest was still heaving and she felt like she’d never breathe right again. not until you were standing next to her. 

tommy sighed, barely audible over ellie’s apparent panic-attack. “you’re on bed rest, kid. i’m sorry. but we will bring her back to you.” 

his words felt like daggers and she was quick to respond. “if you think for one sec–” 

“it’s not up for discussion, ellie.” joel interjected, his voice was soft but stern. and ellie scoffed through the tears, looking at joel harshly. 

before ellie could spew a rant to him, tommy spoke, “we think they’re on the border of utah. were going tomorrow at first light and when we come back she will too. okay?” 

ellie’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and as her breathing became somewhat normal she was able to think. play it cool. “o-okay,” let them think i won’t go anywhere. “my head r-really hurts. gonna sleep for now,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up and over her head. she laid with her back turned to them and she felt the bed move beside her. joel and tommy mumbled another string of words to each other before ellie heard the door creek open. 

“rest up, kiddo. she’s gonna be okay.” joel said to her sympathetically and ellie remained quiet under her covers, plotting her escape. 

she slept for another few hours. she knew she had to wait until night time anyway, there was no use in staying awake and plaguing her thoughts with what is happening to you. but as she slept her mind played horrible tricks on her, she dreamt of saving you that night. brutally slaying the men who had dared to even think about touching you, their blood stained her dreams but at the end of it you were in her arms. 

when she woke up alone, her reality came crashing back down. it forced her to sit up, ignoring her head that was killing her slowly. there was no night time infirmary nurse and she knew now was her only opportunity to sneak away. the clock on the pale blue walls read one in the morning, jackson was asleep. the only people she would need to avoid were night patrols, and the guards around the armory. 

she hauled herself out of bed, her feet dragging on the cold floor and she located her bag. her clothes from the camping trip were tucked inside and she quickly changed. ellie tried to picture the men’s faces, and all that came to her were figures whisking you away. she decided it was best to not think about it, but it was a lot easier said than done and she found herself shaking her head frequently to rid the images from her mind. 

slipping out of the infirmary was easy, a small house on the corner of a dead end street. the streetlamps had been turned off by now, saving power and ellie easily made her way towards the armory. she approached in a crouch, hiding behind a bush in the shadows. she watched as the guards were laughing, telling stories and all around not paying attention. the armory was a larger building near the stables, the guards were circled around a makeshift booth at the front.

sneaking to the side of the building she tugged open a window and crawled inside. she loaded herself with her usual rifle that she took on patrols. taking it down from the wall she stared at it for too long, remembering the day she taught you how to shoot.

“all you have to do is point, aim and–” 

“if you say point, aim and fire one more time.” you laughed at her, your attention shifting between the gun and ellie. 

“i’m just trying to help you, pumpkin.” 

instead of making her feel soft and warm, the memory made her go cold. she couldn’t place you, your face was a cloudy mess in her mind but your voice rang true. her eyes glossed over, hearing your laugh in her head and all she could think of what she would do to these people once she found them. in a haze she stuffed supplies in her bag, a surplus of ammo for her rifle and pistol and then some. she removed her switchblade from her bag and put it in her back pocket for easy access, throwing a trench knife into the backpack just in case. 

she was almost back of out the window she came in when she realized the trip was going to be long, and she had no food in her bag whatsoever. sighing, she looked around. the left over food from the guards littered the small counter to the side of the room. sandwiches and nuts and ellie figured it would have to do and before long she was sneaking to her usual spot in the fence. 

the walk to it was familiar, she had done it with you a thousand times. it was a loose panel of wood that to the unknowing eye would be a secured fence, but with a gentle tug, it gave way. ellie and you had discovered it one day, and it quickly became your get-a-way whenever one of you wanted to escape the confines of the walls. there was a small over-look just beyond the wall, about a ten minute walk from jackson. ellie had drawn you there with the landscape behind you, the picture is hanging on the wall in her garage and she cherishes it like it was gold. 

she pictured you there, trying to remember how peaceful you were to her. like the calm in the storm that was her life. all she could conjure was that night so she dropped it and viciously bit her cheeks with frustration. ellie came to the broken piece of wood, taking a quick look around before pushing it and then herself through the gap. the forest beyond was still and quiet. peaceful almost. putting the board back in place, she turned and headed for the highway. 

readers pov

– day of the kidnapping

the last you saw ellie she was falling to the ground as she came up to your campsite. the man who had been hiding behind the tree knocked her out with a swift blow to the head. you cried out, thrashing in the hands of the man who had lifted you from the ground. “fucking let go of me!” you shouted as your world tumbled around you, you fell into the bed of the truck with a hard smack, pain shot up your spine and you groaned, rolling over. 

the man jumped up onto the back of the truck, making it wobble with his weight. you crawled backwards instinctively, your eyes darting from him and your motionless girlfriend on the ground yards away. your stomach turned as he pulled his fist back and there was nothing you could do before he brought it down heavily onto your skull and everything went black. 

while unconscious, your mind brought you back to ellie’s room. her stereo playing softly as you sat on her bed, watching her read the same book she always did. her eyes scanned the pages as if she had never seen it before. she was laying on her stomach, legs dangling over the side of the bed as she flipped the pages. it was a book about the constellations in the sky and every so often she would show you a page and say it reminded her of you. “this one–” she showed you, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned the book towards you. 

“that just looks like lines, els.” you chuckled at her while you examined the page. you never understood her when she spoke about space, but you liked to hear her ramble. her voice was so comforting to you and it always brought you back down to earth. 

“no, no, pumpkin, look–” she pointed with her fingers on the page, outlining the stars. “its cassiopeia on her throne. d’ya see it?” her soft green eyes met yours, a hopeful look in them. 

you didn’t see it, you just saw lines on a page but ellie’s enthusiasm poured through her and who were you to deny her of it. “yeah, i see it,” you lied, getting closer to get a better look hoping it will just come to you. “why do you say that?” 

“dunno,” she shrugged, looking back to the page. “but it says here she was a queen, so i think that’s why.” 

her words always left you feeling like the most special person, and to ellie you were. you playfully hit her with a pillow, causing a mildly loud “ow!” from her. 

“you’re so fucking cheesy,” you smiled, hitting her again with the pillow. as you brought it down on her she grabbed it. ellie moved quickly and sat on her knees as she struggled to take the pillow from you. she looked down at you, back against the bed and giggling so sweetly. she was able to snatch the pillow, throwing it to the side and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“you love it, shut up.” her words bounced off your face and she pulled her face down to be directly in front of yours. her eyes stared into yours and you could see just how much she loved you on full display within her green eyes. she leaned in to kiss you and as her lips brushed against yours, the world around you melted away. 

you felt cold and you could swear your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything. you felt around, the ground beneath you was solid and ragged and as you moved you heard the clanking of chains. moving your hands down your legs you sensed the frigid metal that encased your ankle, following the chain with your hands to a bolt in the wall. 

the walls had the same texture as the floor and you began to panic. you recounted the last memory you had, ellie laying on the ground. the man punching you in the face. reaching up to touch your sensitive skin, a sharp pain came from your cheek and you gasped. incoherent curses came stringing out of your mouth that quickly turned to yelling. you shouted for ellie, her name bounced off of the walls around you and with every call unanswered the hope inside you diminished. the darkness was over-bearing and you were forced to picture every horrible thing these people could do to you simply just because they could. your voice, that was still begging for ellie, became hoarse. a lump settled in your throat from wailing and you felt sick to your stomach.

you knew none of this was helpful. the screaming, the wailing, but you couldn’t help it. the emotions poured out of you until there was nothing left, ellie could be dead and you were locked up god knows where. you hadn’t even begun to think of why they had taken you, your head was too jambled to think straight. and after what seemed like hours in the black void of your cell, a dim light flickered on and came peeking beneath a door you didn’t even know was there. it illuminated the room just enough to see that cement encased you behind the metal door. 

with a click of a lock the door opened and the sudden light hitting your eyes made you jump, shielding your face with your hands. you heard footsteps approach you slowly but stop a few feet away. a cold hand came up to your forearm and you swung, trying to keep whoever this was away from you at all costs. but their cold hands grasped your arms, forcing you to look upon them. the dim overhead light in the next room outlined the man in front of you, you couldn’t make out a face but he was brutish, and he smelled like a campfire. 

“don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” the man growled, the taunting in his voice was sinister.  

you used all the energy you could to spit in his face and he recoiled, letting go of your arms to wipe his face and he took a step back. “fuck you!” you snarled, spit leaving your mouth with the anger that boiled inside of you. 

he chuckled as he wiped the remaining spit from his face, “we could have killed you, ya know?” the man muttered, taking small strides towards the metal door. his hand reached for the wall, turning on an overhead light in your cell. looking around, it seemed to be a basement. you could see stairs past the door to the cement room and as you peered through the door, the man repositioned himself in front of your face. 

you didn’t say anything and his head cocked to the side as he knelt in front of you. “but we didn’t, do you know why?” his tone was antagonizing and as your eyes adjusted you could make out his face, a large scar was centered by his nose as if he had been cut. you shook your head at his question, not wanting to speak. also because your throat stung from the previous screaming. 

“well,” he looked to the side, using his hands on his knees to hoist himself back up to his feet and he towered over you. “i would have told you but–” he motioned to his face, still glistening from your spit. “maybe tomorrow.” his words were fast, he turned on his heel and headed for the door. 

in a panic you lurched forward, arm out and you tried to stop him. your ankle tugging on the chain as you reached for him.“wait, please don’t!” came rushing out of your mouth but it was too late. the light was switched off and as the door shut behind him, you were enveloped in the darkness yet again. 

— four days after the kidnapping

the black void of your cell had become never ending. after the man with the scar left, the only time anyone would open the door was to give you as little food as possible. keeping you weak and unable to fight back, but alive just enough to do whatever they had planned. if you had been told you were here for a week you would have believed it, time moves weird in the dark and you never knew what time of the day it was, if they were swerving you breakfast or dinner– you had no idea. 

at first you tried to stand, to pace around and get your body moving. after a while it became too repetitive and you fell to your knees, tired and disoriented. you hadn’t moved an inch since, just laying curled up on the floor with your back to the door. the only thing that kept you occupied besides sleeping was reliving memories, playing them over and over again in your head. they were all of ellie, her freckled face and auburn hair and that stupid constellations book. 

she was your every waking thought and even slipped her way into your dreams. ellie was the only thing keeping you from going completely insane in the darkness. you could picture her so clearly, but when you thought about her voice it never sounded right. you were only able to hear it in your dreams, but when you woke it slipped away like water in your hands. traceable, but not recognisable. you made it your mission to remember, a small controllable goal in a situation so far out of your hands and it provided a sense of comfort. as much as it could. 

you were tracing her name over the cold ground beneath you, whispering it softly as if it was a crime when you drifted off once again. it had become routine and a sure fire way to make sure she was in your dreams, her voice and all. this time your dreams planted you in the memory of watching her favorite movie together, curled up on the couch with your head in her lap and her hands playing in your hair. 

“don’t get attached to her,” ellie said casually above you, pointing to the small tv. you groaned, looking up at her and her innocent eyes met yours. 

“you spoil every movie, els.” you say with a fake annoyance in your voice, playfully swatting at the hand pointing to the tv. 

“i didn’t say what happens to her!” her hands go up defensively, looking down at you in her lap. her face had been speckled with sun freckles from the previous day, leaving it absolutely covered from her chin to her forehead. even her eyebrow slit had a few small dots in it, and you found it hard to be annoyed with her. 

turning your attention back to the movie with an unsure mhm, your eyes left hers and for a moment there was silence. and ellie couldn’t help herself, she mumbled, “exceptshetotallygetschoppedinhalf.” 

you sprung up, your head leaving her lap, positioning yourself next to her on your knees. swiftly you propelled her down and straddled her torso. dramatic gasps left her mouth and she placed her hands on your hips, looking you up and down. “you’re gonna pay for that, you know,” you said to her, cupping her face with one hand. 

“i’m soooo scared, pumpkin” she teased, and as the words left her mouth it was like someone had pressed the mute button. her lips moved, and she was definitely talking but her voice was gone, like it had blown away in the wind. the nickname you cherished so deeply from her inaudible and as you realized this your eyes snapped open. the darkness was back, and ellie was gone, along with her voice. 

you tried to cling on to it, but the harder you tried to remember it, the further it went in your mind. if you weren’t so dehydrated, you’d be crying and thrashing around, desperately hoping for her voice to come back to you. but instead being too weak to do anything, you pulled your legs up to your chest and laid in the silence. you didn’t know how long you had been asleep, not that it mattered anyway, but your stomach was feeling emptier than ever before so it must have been a while. 

remnants of your dream flashed in your mind and your hand placed itself on your face as ellie had always done, imagining it was her. imagining her coming to save you, her holding you. every thought that consumed you was her. she can’t be dead. you repeat to yourself like your own little mantra. she isn’t dead.

time shifted again and you heard footsteps coming down the stairs beyond the door. the metal door clicked and opened as it always did, but instead of food being thrown at you in the dark, the lightswitch flicked on. your eyes nearly burst from the pain after being in the dark for so long and you covered them with your hands. “ready to talk like a civilized person?” the raspy voice spoke and you removed your hands from your face, squinting your eyes until they adjusted. 

you nodded slightly and the man with the scar sighed, “good,” he crouched in front of you and you locked eyes with him, anger filling you up head to toe but you fought against it. “where’d we leave off, huh?” 

“w-why you took me,” your voice was small and you realized you hadn’t actually talked in days besides muttering ellie’s name to yourself. 

“right!” he exclaimed loudly, making you jump as it echoed off the walls. “you seemed valuable, at least to that girl,” as he acknowledged ellie, your face lit up and you hung on to his words. “so we figured, you’d be a good bargaining chip for food and whatnot.” 

the nonchalantness in his voice made your skin crawl and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “and you think giving me back like this will get you what you want?” you asked, your voice slowly returning. the man looked down on you with a smug expression. 

“if they want you back alive, yeah. i do. we’re gonna send a party to your town to give them our demands for you,” his finger grazed your leg and you snaked it back. the chains rattled as you did and a chuckle came from him. “we just need to know exactly what you people got.” 

worry swirled around inside of you and you knew what ellie would do in this situation, so you remained as strong as you could, picturing her in your mind. “i’m not telling you anything–” 

“it’s your choice,” he sighed, reaching into his back pocket. he pulled out a small knife and it was too similar to ellie’s for your liking. “just know you can change your mind at anytime.” with that, his knife pierced your skin and your screams filled the room. 

ellie’s pov

— five days after the kidnapping

ellie had been traveling on foot for two days now. her head still ached with the concussion she suffered and her feet felt like they were on fire with every step. everytime she felt like stopping, a foggy image of you would cross her mind and she would keep going. she only stopped when she was practically falling over, hours after the sun had gone down.

by the second day, her legs were giving out on her. she stumbled into the underbrush to the side of the road, falling to her knees and then flat on her stomach. too exhausted to eat and sleep came easy to her. she knew it would only be an hour of sleep but she physically couldn’t go any further tonight. so she embraced sleep, knowing it would only make her nightmares surface yet again. 

tonight her nightmare seemed to be a complete recollection of that night. she was in the tent with you and you rambled about a book you had borrowed from dina. ellie was rifling through her backpack, looking for the constellations book. she had promised to show you cassiopeia on her throne in the night sky, but her book wasn’t in her bag. “i fuckin’ packed it,” she said mindlessly, dumping her belongings out onto your sleeping bag. 

“it’s okay, we can find it without the book.” you reassured her, a soft smile on your face as you did. 

“no, there was– ugh,” she sighed, accepting defeat. you looked at her, a puzzled expression on your face that she couldn’t quite see. “i had something for you, it was in the book.” 

“i’m sure whatever it was, i’ll love it when we get back just as much.” you leaned up, planting a delicate kiss on her lips. ellie’s worry washed away and placed a hand to your cheek when you pulled apart. 

 thats when the silent forest came to life. animals could be heard sprinting between trees, and the birds caulking as they were so rudely woken up by whatever had scared them. ellie’s head turned to the opening in the tent and you grabbed her arm, forcing her to look back to you. 

she saw the usual cloudy mess instead of your face, but in her dreams it seemed to be normal. she sat up, rubbing the arm that clutched hers before she spoke. “probably just a runner, i’ll be right back.” she kissed the top of the blur and felt the grip loosen around her arm. 

“be quick–” you whispered to her as she left the warm tent into the chill air. ellie looked around the campsite, not seeing anything but the noises of the animals still alarmed her, so she expanded her search. 

she had wandered down to the small creek about twenty yards from you, hoping the sound of the rushing water had attracted the infected but there was none in sight and as she turned to make her way back to you, and the night you had planned, your shriek came barreling through the trees. 

not hesitating for a second, ellie was running. her fists pumping at her sides like a madman, she didn’t have time to think about what could possibly be tormenting you, but when she bursted into the campsite and her eyes locked on you, thrashing in the grasp of a random man, her heart sank to her stomach. your face was no longer blurred, she could see every detail that made your face so perfect but your terrified expression haunted her and the gun coming down on her head sprung her awake. 

the sun hadn’t risen yet and her surroundings were still dark. she pushed herself off the ground, not wanting to go back to sleep until you were next to her. coming from the trees that lined the highway, she kept going. the little rest she got was enough to propel her forward and while she walked her mind wandered. it wasn’t long before the sound of morning birds snapped her out of a haze and as she looked up from her feet she saw a welcome to utah sign. it was still dark, probably the very beginning of the morning and ellie noticed smoke coming from the trees just behind the sign. 

not hesitating she moved closer, taking her steps slowly and lowering herself to the ground, she pushed past the trees and saw the makings of a camp. a giant fire roared in the middle of all the people sleeping around it. her eyes landed on the man to the left, furthest from the horses and a picture flashed in her mind. he laid there peacefully, but ellie recognized him as the man who had knocked her out. and suddenly her thoughts halted themselves and her feet moved for her. 

knowing she could never take all of them at once, especially as exhausted as she was, ellie decided on a different plan. starting with the woman closest to the horses, she positioned herself right next to her and grabbed the knife she had placed in her pocket. ellie’s hand covered the womans mouth and her eyes opened harshly. without a second thought, she sliced the knife along the neck of the panicked woman. 

the fires crackling was enough to mask the sound of her blood gurgling from the wound. the woman grasped at ellie desperately trying to save her own life but her movements soon slowed, her arms falling to her sides. removing her hand, she moved on to the next one. watching as the life drained from him as well as he struggled to alert his friends. ellie had gone glossy eyed, and if she was being honest she wasn’t in full control of her actions. her mind only had one goal, and these people stood in her way. they caused this. they deserve it. 

blood spattered onto her face while she glided the switchblade across the neck of the third man, once he had stopped fighting back and his eyes were staring blankly up into the sky ellie locked her own eyes on the final man. the one who had prevented her from saving you, now that it was only him left she stomped over to him. as she approached him, her chest was heaving and blood dripped from her face.

she stood over him for a moment, watching as he slept peacefully. cocking her head to the side, she kicked him harshly in the stomach. immediately he rolled over, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. ellie drove her foot into his now exposed back and he cried out in pain yet again. despite his pain, the man tried to get away. crawling on his hands and knees as quickly as he could, he only made it a few feet when the sound of ellie’s gun cocking made him stop in his tracks. 

“turn around,” ellie grunted, her breathing more heavy than before. the man did as he was told, and as he did his eyes widened at the sight of ellie, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. they wandered past her, looking upon his dead friends and his hands raised to the side of his head. 

“take it all–” 

“you remember me?” her voice was low, hushed even and as the terrified man studied her face his eyebrows raised slightly, and ellie’s lips threatened to curl at the ends. “yeah, you remember me.” 

the man remained quiet in his realization and ellie’s gaze directed itself at the paper poking out from his pocket. the fire illuminated the camp just enough to see it was a map and she motioned her gun towards it, “you’re gonna show me exactly where she is.” her voice was flat but firm. 

“i can’t do that–” his voice trembled and his words were cut off by ellie moving closer to him, her gun now directly in his face. 

“you don’t have a fucking choice!” she shouted, ripping the map from his pocket while her gun remained closely trained on him. she laid it flat on the ground, crouching down to his level and staring him down. he shook his head feverishly, terrified of ellie but even more concerned about her finding their base. while he refused to speak, she had grown tired of waiting and with her available hand took her switchblade and dug it deeply into his thigh and twisted with all her strength.

he wailed, losing balance on his knees and falling to his side. ellie removed the knife, wiping it clean on her jeans before lowering her head to him. “you’d better start fucking talking.” 

the gun was still pointed to his face and he looked at her with disdain, “i’m fucking dead anyway why would i tell you anything.” he said breathlessly, trying to cover the hole in his leg with his hands and failing miserably. 

“because i can make it quick,” she twirled her switchblade in her fingers, grazing it over his cheeks as he winced back. “or i could make it so much worse.” 

“fuck you!” he spat with all his might and ellie dug her knife into his arm, sliding it down while it tore open his flesh. his screams filled the woods around them and in a desperate attempt to save his life, he reached for her gun. 

it pointed up and ellie fired at the sudden scramble. the man tackled her to the ground, pinning her down and fighting to take the gun from her hand. in the tussle, her switchblade fell from her grasp and landed a few feet away. in a panic she fought for the gun, kneeing the man in the stomach as hard as she could but he remained firm on top of her. her free hand swung up, knocking him on the head and his grip on the gun loosened. as she yanked it back, it slipped from her own hands and fell to the ground. while he was stunned from her punch, ellie managed to throw him off of her. she rolled around, looking on the ground for her gun but it blended in so well with the dirt and sticks she couldn’t see it. 

taking a quick look back to the man, he had picked up a rather large rock and tried smashing it down on her head. ellie moved, nearly missing having her head bashed in and she noticed her blade glistening in the now rising sun. she army crawled as the man grasped at her legs to pull her back. her fingers fiddled with the handle before she was able to firmly wrap her hand around it. as she did, the man dragged her back towards him and while he tried to position himself on top of her, ellie plunged the switchblade deep into his chest. the crunch of it piercing his sternum confirmed it was a deadly hit and she watched as he lost any hope to stay alive. 

his mouth hung open in shock, looking down to the puncture wound and his hands went to grasp around it. his legs straddled ellie’s torso, allowing the blood that poured from it to fall directly onto her. the man coughed and instead of spit, blood spewed from his mouth staining his teeth in the process before he fell over beside her. ellie didn’t move, her breathing erratic from the fight. 

the man gurgled on his own blood for a moment before it got quiet again, the woods silent as ever except for her heaving breaths. her hands fell to her sides and she gazed up to the sky, the stars still burning brightly above the trees. all of her exhaustion hit her at once like a truck and she fought to keep her eyes from closing. right before she thought sleep would consume her and she would have to relive her worst nightmare all over again, she saw the makings of a constellation. at first, it wasn’t recognizable, just another clump of stars in the galaxy. but when it clicked in her mind, she propped herself up on her elbows and the tiredness melted away. it was cassiopeia. 

that was everything she needed. ellie got up with a new surge of energy, taking the map with her and anything else she could find useful. she strode away from the grim scene on their horse, following the map to the first exit off the utah highway. with the horse, the rest of the journey seemed like light work. it was only an hour before she spotted the fences to the community. 

tying the horse to a hidden tree for a get-away, she circled the small town. the fence was chain linked and she watched inside as the town woke up to start their day. ellie was able to see that only a small amount of people woke up this early, leaving the streets barely occupied. 

staying in the shadows, she slipped under the fence that was poorly secured. she found herself in between two small houses, ellie could make out mumbled words from the street so she moved up, making sure to stay as close to the wall of the house as possible. 

“....hopefully they will come back with the stuff by tomorrow.” a woman's voice could be heard, ellie dared not to peek around the corner and listened further to their conversation. 

“we don’t even know if they have anything, we could be chasing a dead end.” ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as the second voice spoke. she figured they were talking about the group she had slaughtered, but could jackson be the dead end they were speaking about? is that why they wanted you?

“just gotta hope for the best, i guess.” the woman spoke again before her footsteps could be heard walking away. ellie’s body tensed up, quickly her mind showed her the haunting image of your face and she shook her head, focusing her eyes around the corner. she caught a glimpse of the woman walking down the sidewalk, leaving the man to stand in front of the house alone. he was reading a note intensely and ellie took a look around to make sure her coast was clear. 

she came up behind him, swiftly covering his mouth and dragging him back between the houses for cover. she ripped the note from his hands and used the bandana that had been around his head to cover his mouth and threw him to the ground. while she examined the note, her pistol was focused on him keeping him in place. 

residents be advised that your council is doing all they can to provide for you. we are currently bartering with a town in wyoming for food, and unlike last time, we are sure they will be more than happy to provide.

ellie balled up the paper in her fists, scoffing and throwing it beside the man. “the girl, where is she?” ellie hissed at him, keeping her voice low. he mumbled through the bandana and she rolled her eyes. “don’t fucking scream, you can make it out of this.” she said before pulling the bandana down. 

the mans eyes were wide with fear as he looked upon ellie, but he spoke fast and quietly while darting his eyes between her and the gun. “i don’t know about a girl, i really don’t plea–” 

ellie shook her head before snatching his wrist in her hand, bending his finger back and he winced. “okay, okay okay,” he rushed out, feeling his finger about to snap. “our hunters, they came back a few days ago with something they wouldn’t tell anyone about,” he paused, looking at ellie and her grip loosened. 

“keep talking.” she ordered him and he stammered his words, trying to desperately abide by her rules. 

“usually they bring the meat to the kitchen but-but they parked the truck outside of our leaders house, said it was nothing but it didn-didn’t look like nothin’.” 

ellie moved the gun into his neck, nuzzling it right below his ear and his breathing hitched up. “where?”

“go left do-down the street, the truck is old you can’t miss it!” ellie knew the truck all too well and without another word she removed the gun from his neck and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“thanks–” ellie whispered as her switchblade lodged itself in his neck. he didn’t scream, just looked at her wide-eyed as he tried to stop his neck from bleeding. ellie didn’t wait around, his blood still bubbling as she walked away, turning left down the street. 

she was careful, she moved down the street hiding behind cars, bushes and whatever else she could find. when she was starting to think the man had given her bad information, the truck came into view. it was parked blissfully in the driveway of a quaint looking house. she found herself climbing through an open window on the first floor, escaping the street and its peering eyes. ellie landed in the living room of the house, it wasn’t decorated, the walls were blank and the furniture looked like it was rotting away. 

that's when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she almost ascended the stairs herself but the voices were coming closer. she hid behind the dusty couch as the stairs creaked and found herself in the company of two men who had no idea she was eavesdropping. 

“we already sent the group, why do you need more from her?” the raspy voice uttered, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone. 

ellie heard a long sigh, “because they could become our primary suppliers. as long as we have her, they will give us whatever we want. for as long as we want.” the second man spoke with a heavy country accent and her blood boiled, she stopped herself from jumping the two, instead listening for more information. 

“she wasn’t very forthcoming the first time–” 

his voice was cut off, “well fuckin’ make her. i told you whatever it takes.” another sigh filled her ears, and she wasn’t sure who had done it but feet were stomping away and she glanced around the couch. she witnessed a bald man opening a door down a dark hallway, while the man who had the accent went back upstairs. her brain was split, but she knew they wouldn’t have kept you upstairs so she followed the bald man with the raspy voice, opening the door silently and descending the stairs that were behind it. 

the end of the staircase opened up to a dimly lit basement, it was unfinished and dirty. she caught a glance at a metal door at the opposite end of the room before turning her attention back to the bald man, who was crouching down beside a workbench. it was lined with tools, but ellie knew what they were for. so as fast as she could, she approached him. he was barely able to turn around before she tackled him to the ground. the man was big but being caught off guard helped ellie as her hands gripped around his neck. 

she put all of her body weight into his neck, he was choking and failing his arms around at ellie. it didn’t phase her, even when he had slapped her across the face in his panic. her face was contorting with all the exertion and she stared down at him, never breaking eye contact. a scar was slashed across his face and she recognized this as the man who had thrown you into the truck, the image coming to her clearly. his eyes were bulging from their sockets and his legs were kicking with a passion but as ellie came to this realization she jerked her hands down, the applied pressure breaking his neck under her hands and he immediately went limp. 

in a cloudy haze she stood up, catching her breath and looking around for a key. she practically threw everything off of the workbench in front of her and when she didn’t find it she moved back to the man on the floor. she dug through his pockets and her fingers found a small metal key. 

she walked towards the metal door slowly. now that she was here, she was terrified of what she would see behind the door. she put the key into the lock and turned, earning a click. she breathed out all the air in her lungs before pushing it open and her heart was beating faster than she had ever known possible. the room was dark, and seemed empty. the light from the other room allowed her to see a small switch on the wall and she flicked it on, now fearing you werent even here. 

but you were. the light came on and your hands flew to your face shielding your eyes. ellie’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears seeing you. she took a step forward, taking off her backpack and laying it on the ground beside her. you were so obviously injured, puncture wounds up and down your legs with dried blood surrounding them. the chain around your ankle had almost embedded itself in your skin, resulting in a horrible looking bruise that had worked its way up your leg. ellie breathlessly said your name, tears falling from her eyes and your hands moved from your face slowly. 

your eyes weren’t adjusted, you just saw a blurry figure in front of you but you could have sworn you heard her voice. the voice that had escaped you every time you tried to hold on to it, and you thought your brain was playing a cruel prank. “please don’t,” you uttered quietly, fearing she was the man with the scar coming back to torture you more. 

ellie dropped to her knees in front of you, looking at your battered body not able to form words. they had broken you, and she blamed herself. anger brewed inside of her but in this moment, she remained soft spoken. “it’s me,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch your leg which you snaked away, still not believing she was actually there. you believed you were so desperate to see her, to hear her, that she materialized out of thin air. but that meant you were truly losing your sanity and you could barely look at her. 

“its not you–” you said back to her, looking to the floor and ellie’s eyes shut tightly to hold back anymore tears. you had backed up all the way to the wall, leaving ellie in the center of the room. she slowly moved to you as you watched her from your peripheral view.

she came up in front of you, “it’s me, pumpkin,” and placed a hand to your shallow cheek as she always had done. 

feeling her warm hands on your face, you met her eyes. her warmth couldn’t be your imagination and your own eyes welled up as she dragged her thumb carelessly across your cheek. her appearance didn’t even phase you, all you cared about was her. “ellie,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and placing your hand on top of hers that cupped your face. “you’re actually here?” your voice was small and faint, and it felt like ellie was stabbed in the heart. 

the blur that ruined her memories of you was gone. even the image of you being whisked away was gone. she scanned your still perfect face, it’s only faults being sunken in from hunger and bruising that littered your cheeks but it was still perfection to her. she felt more relief than she had when she killed the man in the woods, and the bald man that still laid a few feet away. you were here in front of her, finally.  ellie couldn’t help but smile at you, all her efforts hadn’t been in vain. 

“i’m actually here,” she repeated to you, connecting your foreheads together. “i found you.” 

ellie leaned back, inches from your face. her voice rang in your ears and you felt like you were floating with every word that came from her mouth after missing it for so long. you managed a smile for her. she was so close to you that you had barely seen the figure towering over her from behind, your mouth began to form her name to warn her but it was too late. the figure smashed ellie over the head and she fell unconscious beside you. 

[jeonghantis]

hehe since ur requests are open, is it okay to request a scenario with joshua? i've been missing him tons lately ahdhsq

how do you think he would deal with getting all pent up when he's overseas or touring around while his s/o is back home? would he prefer sexting, phone sex, or a full on video call 😭

ofc you can choose to ignore this if it's too much dw !!

✧ — MENACE! (h.js)

PAIRING ⇝ hong jisoo x reader.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut, idol!joshua.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader but with female parts & wears lingerie, use of the petname "baby", explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

WORD COUNT ⇝ 2.4k words.

note: kai.. :) here’s the thing, i do think with joshua would be up for any of those but sexting would probably be the most used out of them all. but here's a little peek into the development from sexting to video calls. i hope this'll help lift ur mood a lil. ♡ i hope you all enjoy! and and god i wish i could better format the texts but i hope it's not too confusing!

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit warnings under the cut.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ sexting, filmed masturbation (f & m), use of rabbit vibrator (f), pillow humping (m), squirting, cum shot, wap (wet ass pussy) reader, spit as lube, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of penetrative sex, alludes to dom!shua (he can be cruel and teasing :) )

Joshua saw red.

It was not out of anger. It was much on the contrary.

Red lingerie. New red lingerie laced itself around your body, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You sat on the edge of your bed with legs spread wide and the flimsy excuse of a thong you wore left little to his imagination. There was a smug expression on your face, and in your hand was something he recognized with ease. It was a violet rabbit vibrator, a gift he had given you and one he had intended to use on you himself.

Joshua saw red, a little bit of it now out of anger, for this image of you was not happening in real time before him, but on the tiny screen of his phone.

My Love: hi, darling! by the time you see this, you must be so exhausted from your concert. i could not be more proud of you for working as hard as you do :(( so i thought i might reward you <3

My Love: Sent a video.

Joshua didn't waste any more breaths and pressed play. 

“Hi, baby,” your voice floats immediately from the phone speakers and fills the air of his much too empty hotel room, tone sultry and lilted. You were smiling and waving around the vibrator in front of the camera. “I thought you’d like to see me try out your gift for the first time.”

“Well, shit.” Joshua lets out a baffled laugh and adjusts himself on the couch, leaning back and spreading his legs wide as if to alleviate the building pressure between them. He could pull his sweats down, but thought better of it. He might have much better plans after. 

Keen and hungry eyes watch your every movement. It’s unfaltering when you pull your thong to your side and bring the toy to your cunt already slicked and glistening to which Joshua could assume you had prepped yourself beforehand with your own fingers and the imagery didn’t help his waning sanity. As you begin to tease yourself and rub the blunt tip all over your slit, he catches a glimpse of your fluttering hole, grasping desperately at nothing. He remembered once how he had laughed at the sight, at your mewling, when he had denied you of your orgasm after fingering you so close to the edge. He had laughed again when he sheathed his cock inside you not long after, feeling that delicious pulse of your warm channel around him. 

Joshua was very far from laughing now.

You finally slip the toy inside, and a long, strained moan is pulled from your lips. It looked like a tight fit and his eyes twitched at the thought and how it was just a thought to him. But he was proved correct when he caught the tremble of your thighs, your chest rising and falling with choppy breaths. And yet despite it, you’re still continuing to push the entire length of the toy inside until the handle is the only thing left protruding out of you. Regardless of the obvious discomfort twisting your features and the sweat beading along your hairline, there’s still a wicked curl of lip when you look back up at the camera, a flicker of pride, of challenge, in your darkened gaze. It stirred something warm deep in his guts.

Then, he hears a faint click, a buzz, and another moan right out of you. 

Time was a muddled construct from then on.

Joshua only watched you fuck yourself with his gift, watched you slowly lose yourself over some mere piece of silicone. At some point, you fell flat on your back and he’s dismayed by your hidden face, but easily distracted when your feet prop themselves up wide apart, sole flat on the mattress. Now, he’s blessed by a much clearer and utter sinful view of how well your puffy cunt swallows up the toy, it becoming a blur of violet as it pumps in and out at a quickening pace. 

And the fucking sounds. It was so wet. You were so wet, the squelches echoing in his ears with every other thrust made. More than that, your incoherent moanings had slowly formed into words—some swears, others pleas, but what rang deep in his bones were the airy mutterings of his name.

“Joshua,” you groan during one particularly hard thrust made.

He chewed on his bottom lip hard.

“S-Shua!” you cried, sharp and high, when your hips jerked up into the toy.

He threw a palm against his crotch.

Then it all ends too soon.

With a shattered wail, you yank the vibrator out of you and a gush of clear fluids spurt right out. You’re a whimpering mess. A hand reached down to rub fast circles on your clit as you wade through your pleasure, your lower frame stuttering up into it, your legs maddened with violent tremors. His name continues to fall out of your lips like a breathy mantra, like it was the only word you knew.

Joshua clicks his phone shut, places it on the table, and takes in a breath.

“Fuck.”

You might have pushed him too far with this, but in all fairness, your beloved, ever-so-sweet, and loving boyfriend Joshua has been nothing short of an absolute menace of a man since he had left for tour. Very often since his departure, nearly every single day, he has plagued you with texts filled with his lewd thoughts. You did love it, of course you did when it showed that Joshua still thought of you often and felt your absence just as much you did with his. But with the time difference, while he texts you during his evenings, you’d receive it in the mornings where you’d be drowning in your schedules. 

shua! ♡ : You’re working?

shua! ♡ : What a shame :(( i was going to talk about how i want to fuck your tight little pussy just now :(( 

It still didn’t stop him from describing the imagery with very explicit details.

The days of missing him grew even more unbearable. You knew Joshua found delight in this and was probably cackling away in his hotel bed at your frustrations. But you also knew despite the front he puts up, Joshua was just as sexually repressed and wound up as you, or he wouldn't have bothered with this stint. Why not try to play him at his own games?

So, you did. A free day came in your schedule and you bought some new lingerie sets and shot your little video with Joshua's gift that lay unused in a drawer. You had your fun playing with yourself, imagining it was Joshua himself fucking your tight little pussy open. You were very pleased with yourself when you sent the video off, then you went on about your day like normal, or as normal can be with anticipation a steady simmer in your stomach.

Then came his response.

shua! ♡ : You think you can get away with this? :) 

you: i have no idea what you’re talking about :) it’s a gift to repay you for your gift!

shua! ♡ : Sent a video.

shua! ♡ : Here’s to repay you for your repayment :)

you: ..oh no

The thumbnail of his video was less crude than yours. It was a full view of his unmade hotel bed. Joshua was nowhere in sight. Somehow this was a little more nerve wracking than your stunt. 

With a pounding heart, you pressed play.

It’s eerily silent for the first few seconds, you could practically hear your own pulse thundering in your ears. Then there’s a rustle, a sigh, then Joshua comes into frame. He greets the camera with that sweet smile of his as he climbs up his bed. A black muscle tee fitted around his sculpted body, his toned biceps on full display. Then below –

Joshua wore absolutely nothing down below—no pants, not even underwear. His dick stood proudly, curved and bumping against his stomach. 

A knowing, smug expression crosses his face as if he could see you through this video, and he takes his position, kneeling right in the middle of the bed.

“You drive me absolutely insane,” he said before spitting right into his hand. “Was the toy any better than my dick? Did it satisfy you?”

You let out a shaky breath just as he did too when his long fingers wrap around himself. He lathers the length of him in his own saliva and spares a little more every now and then, letting a string of spit thread down directly from his lips. You were too familiar with the gradual rhythm he set, with how his wrist twists a little more forcefully when he reaches the tip. It was the set of movements he particularly liked, the one that’s quick to pull airy grunts from him. 

I could survive through this, you think to yourself, pressing your thighs together to temper the growing ache in between. You’ve given him handjobs before to expect what expressions would come about, what noises he'd come to make. This was fine.

But Joshua reaches for a pillow, and now you think all is doomed. This was absolutely far from what you were expecting. This explained the angle in which the camera was set up.

“It’s sad that I don’t have anything to replace you,” he clicks his tongue in disappointment, and places the pillow before him. “But I will have to make do.”

With growing horror (delight?), you watch with wide eyes as Joshua leans himself down, leveraging himself up with his arms, and starts to rut down against the cushion.

“y/n,” your lover grunts out. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Joshua lifts the bottom of his shirt up to bite on, revealing the chiseled lines of his torso, before he’s easing himself down until he’s laying flat on stomach. His thrusts are shallow, the muscles of thigh twitching and straining, and so are his breaths, muffled but gradually rising in volume. The pinkish tip of him peeks from where it's wedged in between and rubbing up against his hardened stomach, and you catch just the faintest rivulet leak from its slit, slipping down and staining the pillow’s white casing. 

The pressure was soon not enough, you knew. The rising frustration was evident in how often he adjusts his position and the pillow, and how deeper and urgent his grinds became.

"Who am I kidding?" Joshua says with a dry laugh, pulling the shirt off of him and shucking it into an unknown corner of his room. "Nothing will come close to how your cunt feels around me."

Your core gives a euphoric throb at that and you press a palm against yourself with the softest sigh slipping from your lips.

Joshua, in the seemingly hopeless face of it all, is still trying anyway, seeking for some pleasure in this measly, soft thing. There had been a moment where you had thought he had given in when he sat back up and wrapped his hand around his throbbing girth again; perhaps he really had when he looked absolutely lose in the fast, blissful strokes made by the tight ring of his fingers. With fluttering eyelids and head thrown back, the first, more earnest moans falls from his lips, and before you thought he might be reaching a new high, Joshua drops back down on the pillow and rides the hell out of it once more, pursuing that same pace his hand had.

It was rare to see this frustrated desperation from him ever. Oh, how you loved to see how quickly his cool composure falls apart, ravaged the sight of his trembling body and sudden incoordination of all his limbs. Yet even with this smugness, you absolutely could not help this tang of envy that came with it, the longing ache for him only burrowing deeper. You wished you could witness this in real life, wished you felt his desperation thrusting inside you. You missed the warmth of his body, missed him.

Just how fucking long was this tour again? Holy shit.

You had been too distracted by your own yearning that you almost missed Joshua coming undone. It's his loud groan that yanks your focus back to the screen—loud groans of your name.

"I'm so close, fuck -" Joshua rambles on and scrambles to perch himself back up on his hands so you're given a full view of length gliding along heedlessly against the cushion, his hips stammering and losing rhythm. "I n-need you so bad, y/n. You have no idea how much I need you right now. Fuck, I miss you so bad. I'm going to come. I'm going to - "

Your name is punched out of his chest when white spurts out from his twitching cock. The spasms of his muscles were so visible, with each quaver gushing a little more of his cum out, the stain on the pillow only spreading from there. And Joshua is still riding out this high with languid ruts, coating his girth in his own glistening fluids until he gradually softens up.

After a few panted breaths from him, Joshua draws back and sits on his legs. He takes a moment to inspect the sight of his own mess, then his head tilts up at the camera and a tired smile pulls his lips. For a single beat, you stare at each other and even though you actually weren't, you still felt the weight of his gaze, a ripple of something crawling down your spine. Without any word but with that continuing smile, Joshua moves for his phone and shuts it off, leaving you in the deafening silence of your bedroom.

you: holy fuck, joshua.

shua! ♡: Yeah? You liked it? :)

you: absolutely not

shua! ♡: ?

shua! ♡: What really?

you: i absolutely loved it

shua! ♡: Could you maybe not do that? I was so fucking nervous the whole time

you: aw, my baby nervous? :(

shua! ♡: ...Yeah okay.

you: hehe :) i love you

shua! ♡: And I love you

shua! ♡: I have some thoughts though :)

you: oh no. STILL?!

you: WERE THOSE VIDEOS NOT ENOUGH?!

shua! ♡: Not at all :D

shua! ♡: Do you want to hear it?

you: fine

shua! ♡: Sent a link

shua! ♡: I bought you this :)

you: is this

you: a long distance vibrator...

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

shua! ♡: I want to see you play with yourself on call next time

shua! ♡: While I take control :)

you: fuck

you: of course you do

shua! ♡: Yeah :)

you: you're a menace

shua! ♡: And you love that about me

you: that i unfortunately do

shua! ♡: ❤️

shua! ♡: Tell me when it arrives, baby

shua! ♡: We'll have our fun together again :)

© circlesol. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

[ladystarksneedle]

Do I make you feel sick?

Aemond x niece reader

Summary: A princess confronts the ghosts of her past.

Word count: 1.7k

Prev<

Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika

She doesn't know what possesses her as she lunges at him, arms flying everywhere, nails clawing at whatever part of him she can hurt. They fall to the ground in a heap, with her screaming and hitting his chest with her fists in quick succession before trying to get to his eye. He flips her over just as she manages to scratch his cheek, hissing as he pins her arms above her head, caging her with the weight of his body.

“Have you had enough?” he huffs impatiently. 

She spits at him aiming for his good eye in response, making him growl and grab her neck in warning. Her eyes widen in fear as she sees him look at her with malice. She struggles to breathe as she realizes it is the first time she's seen the likes of it on his face. His grip relents when he feels her gasping, enough to let her know he's unwilling to kill her. There is a silent warning in his eye, which she accepts with a difficult nod making him relax his hold on her neck letting her breathe at last. She sputters and coughs as he brings his face close to her hammering pulse, biting her neck harshly.

“Why” she whimpers beneath him.

“You know why” he mumbles against the shell of her ear “I was owed a debt”

“At what cost” she spits, angling her face towards his “You've ruined us, destroyed our family”

“He was never mine to begin with”

“But I was,” she croaks as he runs his nose along her cheek.

“You are a liar and a cheat” she breathes against him “Did your hatred not extend to the bastard you laid with”

He chuckles in response pulling her up with him to he sit on his haunches “It seems I've gotten my hands on every last Strong except you”

“What has become of you” she spits in disgust, his moniker lingering at the tip of her tongue.

“Say it, every bit of it is true. I'm just like you”

“I’ve done nothing which wasn't expected of me”

“No, only shed innocent blood for your  mother’s cause”

“I had no part in it” she chokes out  “I didn't wish for him to die”

He gazes at her with mistrust twisting her arms behind her back feeling her riding leathers for a weapon.

“It matters not, little traitor. You made your choice” he hums thoughtfully “Do you know what they said when they murdered Jaehaerys? A son for a son they claimed as they slit his throat” 

She shivers as he pulls her to stand, turning her around to face the trees brandishing the dagger she'd kept hidden beneath her tunic. “Helaena is lost to her grief. They say losing a child does that to a mother, takes away all her sanity. I shall repay yours with justice of my own” he says drumming his fingers across her belly “I know how much you've wanted this, for us to be a family. We'll finally have all that you crave for.”

“You are depraved” she shivers, making him chuckle humorlessly.

“I am what you've made me byka nūmio, you can't escape your fate anymore.”

She twists and thrashes in his grasp as brandishes her blade against her neck, clicking his tongue in response. 

“I despise you,” she whispers. “There is nothing you can do to make me lie with you”

He ignores her as he speaks again “Where is your little dragon, hmm. She seems to have left you all alone.”

She looks around in fright, unable to locate Naerax. The trees around her feel eerily quiet, with no sign of anyone apart from both of them breathing heavily. 

“What have you done to her?”

He chuckles in response. “Fear not she is nearby, uniting with her own. Vhagar shall take good care of her”

“Let me go”

“Didn't you come here to find me” he smirks, nicking her neck watching a column of blood trail down her skin.

“I came here to kill you”

He laughs heartily as he spins her around, sheathing her dagger before effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder “What has your mummer queen's cause come to if they've sent you to accomplish such a task.”

“You don't think I'm capable of it?” she replies, trying to kick him.

“Mayhaps, but I know you far better. Your mother was a fool to test your loyalty”

“I am nothing but” she all but screams.

“Indeed, yet to who begs the question” he smirks, hauling her towards the trees.

“Has all the smoke gotten to your head qyybor. You are a fool to think I'll ever betray my family just as you were to leave King’s landing.” She feels him stiffen as they pass through the canopy, his grip tightening on her. (Uncle)

“I have waited out this war to claim what is owed to me and your tantrums shall be the last thing standing between what I want” he says as she tries to reach the dagger sheathed near his waist.

“I've caught you now byka mittys” he says, pulling her braid to face him, eye glinting in the dark as he smiles at her with glee. “Rest, you'll need it in the days to come” (little fool)

The last thing she sees before she goes limp in his arms are spots of green through the mist shrouding them.

She wakes up to the night sky, clear and starry, as she rubs her eyes. There is a fire kindled before her with a woman turned away from where she now sits awake, staring into it as she grinds something in her hands. 

“Be welcome princess, it's been a while” she says without turning to face her. Her voice rings in her ears, unnaturally shrill as she tries to catch a peek of her face.

“You must be the fire witch”

“I have many names. Most call me Alys”

“Where am I?”

“You are safe, as he would have it”

She glances around trying to find him at her admission, perplexed at the strangeness of her surroundings. They appear to be near a small clearing hidden unnaturally from the rest of the land.

“He shall return soon, you need not worry for him”

“I do not”

Green eyes turn to her, deep and cold as they regard her with mirth. “You are as he spoke of, young and foolish”

She fights the urge to bite back as she responds “You know nothing of me”

Her words evoke the strange woman's laughter, a shrieking sinister sound, rattling her before a few ravens croak near the skyline. 

“Be grateful for his affection, princess” she says mockingly “For that is what is keeping you alive”

“As it has been serving you, I suppose” she says, staring at her swollen womb with distaste.

“Oh yes, but I'm far more useful than a lost girl without her dragon” she snickers. 

“What do you see in the flames? I've heard whispers of your visions.”

“Things that have and will come to pass” she replies cryptically.

“Must be lonely to know he's keeping you with him for your gift” she replies snarkily, noticing her frame stiffen in response. 

“Do not antagonize her too much dōna” she hears as she feels him towering behind her. (Sweet)

She huffs in annoyance as he regards her before walking past her to hand the witch something. She sees her take it before retreating into the forest, leaving them alone again.

“Where is Naerax”

“Asleep, as you were a while ago”

“Why are you keeping me here”

“What do you have to return to? You're far away from home” he bites back. “Or does a certain bastard await your return” he asks, twirling her dagger in his hand.

She stares at him incredulously laughing at his response. “Addam? Nyke daor pāsagon ao” (I cannot believe you) “After all that has happened, that is what bothers you”

“It doesn't matter, he shall not live to see you again”

His response elicits another scream as she tackles him to the ground before being flipped over again with force.

“Does the thought of him dying evoke such despair, perhaps I'll have to kill him sooner”

“You are craven. Will you slay the entire realm in your madness”

“Every traitor shall face his due”

“Perhaps you should start with your lover then”

“And here I thought you wished to spare the innocent”

“She is hardly free from blame”

“The child she carries has no part to play”

“Your babe is as treacherous as his father before him”

“The only traitor I see here is you”

“I have never betrayed you. You are a fool to think so”

“I suppose galavanting about with a Velaryon bastard isn't the treachery that you speak of”

“You base your accusations on rumors? Slanders which are nothing but falsehood” she spits “I stand by what I said, I am nothing but loyal”

He lets her go in bewilderment as she feels her cheeks wet with tears. “None of it is true”

He looks away as she speaks, anger flashing in his eye “You were lost to me”

“I was”

“Then I am not to blame”

“You are and you can never absolve yourself of it. I loved you and you betrayed me.”

“You chose your mother”

“As did you”

“Do you think my decisions haven't tormented me? Do you think you're the only one who's suffered? You made me lose everything” he shouts. “I lost the capital. I lost our advantage while you ran around doing as you pleased.”

“You confuse me with yourself,” she scoffs.

“You've tormented me for years. Do not come here and claim that you love me when all you've ever done is left” he remarks with uncontrolled rage.

“And all you've done is find the first woman you could to warm your bed while I mourned my loss, one that you inflicted” she screams back as he moves towards her grabbing her face in his hands. 

“I despise you” she whispers as he brings his face close to hers shaking with emotion

“As do I,” he whispers back, inching closer to her.

It is only fair, she thinks when he consumes her finally. She feels the salt from her tears coat his lips as they move against hers, velvety and soft as he grips her harshly, pulling her closer in haste. She clings to him as they devour each other and when she lunges at him again, pushing him to the floor of her makeshift bed, he relents easily in his own desperation and unrestrained rage of being pulled apart from what was always meant to be theirs.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

[abbyromanoff]

Destiny Can Be Hell

Pairings: Kate Bishop x fem!reader, (past) Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Word count: 13,106

Warnings: cheating (R has a husband), older!R, arguing, drinking, mentions of drugs (cocaine, heroine, weed, LCD, mushrooms), smut, fingering, face riding, cunnilingus, handcuffs, mommy kink (R), excessive pet names (baby girl, baby, sweetheart, honey, etc), mentions of gagging, thigh riding, strap on use (K), public sex, masturbation, phone sex, biting, spitting, Kate has mommy issues, almost getting caught, abuse of power, powerbottom!R, service top/switch!Kate, degrading, guilt, angst, fluff, multiple orgasms, praising, smoking, jealousy, think that’s about it :)

This is based on the show “Gypsy” on Netflix, def recommend it!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“And then she just left. H-how can someone just throw you away like you meant nothing to them?” You nodded with understanding, making another small note on your paper marked with the words, ‘Yelena Belova’.

“Honey, I know this may be hard to take in but, do you think she might’ve just, say, gotten bored?” The blonde looked at you through tears and gulped down her nerves. She wasn’t the easiest to get through, but after nearly six months together you learned how to reach her. Her parents had forced her to come here if she wanted to continue living with them, and, due to her having nothing left in her bank account, she had to agree.

“But, why? I don’t think I’m all that boring, am I?” You quickly shushed her with a shake of your head, grasping her clasped hands in your own.

“Trust me, Lena, you are not a bore. But, sometimes some people struggle being with others or spending so long with one person, and that’s their own battle that they need to fight on their own, you can’t help them. And no matter how badly you want to help them and be there for them, is it really worth losing your mind and sanity over?”

“But I loved her..”

“I know you did. But there comes a point where you need to give yourself an ultimatum, are you going to ruin your life for hers when you still need to live with yourself every day? While I know you’re such a sweet, young girl who just wants to help others, you’ll never be able to fix someone; you have to be able to fix yourself.” She moved into your arms, wrapping her own around your shoulders as she cried. It pained you to hear it when you had started developing a love her for. She was almost like a daughter to you that you’d be willing to protect at any cost and knowing you couldn’t protect her heart from that asshole only hurt more.

“Thank you, Y/N.” She used to call you Mrs. Y/L/N, but you had insisted that she call you by your first name, hearing the title always made you feel old.

“Of course, kiddo. Now, let me assign you your homework for the week, okay?” She agreed, wiping the tears from her face before you handed her a tissue from your desk. You grabbed a new sheet of paper and wrote down her assignment, ‘Remove all things belonging to your ex from your belongings and put them somewhere hidden where you won’t find them.’

When you handed it to her she looked shocked. She didn’t know if she could do so, but she’d try for you and herself.

“And don’t forget, even if you don’t complete it yet, you still have a long time to do so. And no matter what, I’ll always be proud of you, Yelena.” You said your goodbyes before sitting on your desk chair, spinning in it for a moment before throwing your head back and letting out a sigh. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home, but you still had one more session.

After another hour of listening to one of your patients, you finally decided to head home. But first, you wanted to stop for some coffee. You had been craving it for a few days now that your espresso machine broke and you were running late this morning so you didn’t have time to order any.

The doorbell chime rang as you entered but it didn’t draw many eyes, there were already at least twenty-ish people in here.

“Can I have one small cold brew, please?” The man in front of you nodded and wrote down the order, yelling to some girl in the back to make it. You waited patiently and passed the time by going on your phone, smiling at the video your husband sent you of him and his friends saying hello. They were at the bar for an after-work drink and he would most likely not be back for another two hours.

Your eyes soon landed on a flyer in front of you, it was bright yellow and practically begging for your attention. It was an advertisement for a band who were playing this Friday at the local pub. All of a sudden, you heard your name being called and shot your eyes up to see who it was, almost forgetting where you were.

“Cold brew for Y/N!” You walked forward, your eyes still examining the piece of paper and the details written on it. You weren’t exactly planning on going but the idea didn’t disappoint.

“Nice flyer, lady.” You looked up with a raised brow, eyeing the girl in front of you who just grinned.

“It’s my band, I’m the lead singer.”

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you were just being rude there.” You chuckled with embarrassment, walking over to the side where napkins and straws were placed.

“So, you going?” The girl was still there, even if she most likely had many other orders to take.

“Uh, I might. I’ve never really been that into rock.” She shrugged. You didn’t know why she was wasting her time talking to you but you weren’t mad about it, either. In fact, there was a small part of you that enjoyed the small talk with her, even if you only knew her for a minute or less.

“Well, I promise we won’t disappoint. And if you do go, I’ll buy you a shot on me, deal?”

“And why would you do that for me?” She shrugged once again, a smirk teasing at her lips.

“‘Cause you’re hot.” Was all she said before returning to her spot in the back where you guessed she would make the drinks. You chuckled to yourself and tried to hide the blush now adorning your cheeks from any pass-byer’s as if they’d even care for one second what you were giddy about.

“Welcome home, my love.” You greeted your husband from the bed as he entered the room. He took off his suit jacket and pecked your cheek before entering the master bathroom.

“How were the guys?” He took a moment to respond due to him having still been brushing his teeth. Once he spit out the toothpaste, he spoke.

“Fine.” You hummed and pressed your lips together before turning to shut your bedside lamp off. You both had noticed the distance between you two starting to grow even more, but you were trying to hang on for the sake of this marriage.

“Goodnight, Steve.” He responded in a tired voice and quickly fell asleep next to you. Even after he brushed his teeth, you could still smell the alcohol residue on his breath and body.

He wasn’t a horrible man, he just wasn’t the best husband either. He loved you, you knew that. But he didn’t know how to show it. When you two had met each other he was receiving help from counselors and you really thought he’d change for you. He was a sex addict, nothing else mattered when sex would be involved. You thought you could fix him, and that’s why you had given Yelena that advice, so she wouldn’t end up like you who’d dread going home to her partner every night.

You toyed with your ring before placing it on the bedside table along with your blue-light glasses. Your hand lingered over the paper from today before you grabbed it once again. You were wondering what was happening to you, you didn’t even know this woman but you were still considering going.

Friday had come quicker than expected and here you were, sitting in your office with your work bag being filled with your current clothes. You looked too professional for a small bar and a band, so you thought you’d try and look your best for once since your wedding day.

“Ooh, what’s the special occasion for miss sexy tonight, hm?” You rolled your eyes at your coworker's words, Wanda had always been such a flirt.

“Don’t you have a husband and children to get home to, Wands?”

“Yes, but they have me all the time, I need a break from those brats.” She sat down in front of you as you ate the rest of your fruit bowl from today for dinner.

“I told you, I’m always willing to babysit if you need a break. I may not have children but I am good with them.” She leaned back into her chair and sipped from her mug thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you and Steve have kids? I mean, you’re thirty-five, Y/N, and you’re not getting any younger. Besides, with the muscles on that man, he could carry the babies for you.” You laughed along with her, resting your head on your hand. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you’ve thought about it before. But having them with Steve didn’t seem like a possibility, especially with his addiction.

“I- I don’t know, I don’t think it’s going to happen.” Wanda looked at you, looking be-widdled at your statement. You knew how much she adored the thought of children, even if she complained about hers all day long. So for her to hear you weren’t going to have any was like a stab in the heart, even to her.

“What? Y/N, honey, you can’t be serious right now.” You shrugged without care and stood up to remove your empty bowl from the table. You placed it in your bag and put it on your bare shoulder, giving a kiss to Wanda’s cheek as you started to walk out.

“We’ll talk about it another time. But for now, I’m going to have some fun at the bar before I have to go back to doing nothing at home.” She slapped your ass playfully as you left, and you strutted your hips just to tease her.

The moment you entered the small building, a strong wave of alcohol hit your nose, you could’ve choked on it. You grabbed a margarita and sat in a booth all alone, questioning if you should’ve even come here in the first place. That was until you looked at the stage and there she was, setting up the microphone while her crew set up their own tools. You couldn’t put your eyes anywhere else. It was like staring at the sun, you knew it wasn’t good for you, but the feeling was so powerful that you didn’t want to look away.

Her voice soon boomed across the whole place and drew everyone’s eyes onto her, you wished you were the only one though. She thanked everyone for coming out tonight before she opened her mouth to sing, the vocals leaving her like it was second nature.

You moved to the front of the row, watching her with admiration. The lights were a dark red and the ones on stage were a bright, beaming yellow. It somehow illuminated her skin perfectly. Her nose ring shined and you were immediately drawn to it. Oh, how she could captivate you so much in such little time was insane, but you didn’t want to lose this. When her eyes met with yours you swore you saw hearts all around, you felt like you would’ve nearly fainted if it wasn’t for the people behind you squishing you.

Once she got off stage and thanked everyone again, you walked back to your booth to collect your things. You didn’t plan on staying, but that was until you heard her booming voice over the other patrons.

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up, coffee girl.” You grinned at the nickname and shook your head loosely before regaining eye contact with her.

“Where are you headed? I promised you a drink, didn’t I?”

“Uh, I should probably be getting home soon, I wasn’t exactly planning to stay out very long.” She rolled her eyes and dragged you towards the bar, yelling to the bartender for two fireball shots. You looked at her with wide eyes until she sat down, slapping the seat next to her to signal you to sit.

“You guys were really good up there.” You said, ruining the silence that overtook you both. She looked over to you, downing the shot with a raised eyebrow and the same classy smirk she gave you yesterday.

“Why, thank you, coffee girl.”

“You can just call me Y/N, coffee girl.” You teased her, smiling to yourself when you notice she doesn’t seem uninterested.

“Well then, Y/N, you can call me Kate.” You two continued small talk for nearly half an hour, most of it being about her band and her work. But she was intrigued to know more about you than herself, she wanted to know your life story, but you weren’t being that easy.

“So, Y/N,” You hummed in response. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, what exactly would you like to know?” She seemed deep in thought as she stared into the pupils of your eyes. You were like a mystery she wanted to solve.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.” She clicked her tongue happily.

“Mm, I like my women older.” Your mouth fell open at her comment before you shook yourself off when she showed no sign of the words affecting her as they did you.

“Any kids?”

“Nope.”

“Husband? Wife?”

“Husband.” She examined the way you took a moment longer to answer and furrowed her brows together. She looked down at your hand.

“Where’s the ring?” You followed her eyes to where she was right, there was no ring on your finger to prove you were in fact married.

“Oh- right, I must’ve forgotten it at home.” You nervously chuckled, hoping that she’d drop it without further questioning. She did.

“Ever been with a woman before.”

“Uh, no. No, I haven’t.” You stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck as your leg bounced quickly.

“Even better.” What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask her, but she was already starting to walk out the door. You followed her with hesitation, wondering if she even wanted you to.

“Where…where are you going?” There was a small bit of hope in your tone. You were hoping she wouldn’t just leave you like that, especially when you enjoyed talking to her so much. The other women you knew weren’t like her. They weren’t as fun or energetic. Their voices didn’t have your ears making love, it only made them burn to hear them talk about their children and how pathetic their husbands are.

You wondered how Wanda would react to this. Knowing that you were practically falling for a girl nearly half your age. Especially when she adored your husband for whatever reason it was that she had said before, you probably weren’t listening anyways.

“For a smoke. Wanna join?” You let out a breathy nod, her face nearly inches from yours. She stared down at your lips for a moment before looking at your facial features, her mouth slightly parted just enough so you could see a small number of her teeth.

“You don’t smoke.” She said before dragging you with her by your hand, her own loosely grabbing the tips of your fingers to guide you with her.

“How do you know that?”

“I can read you like a book, baby.” The side of her mouth parted upward as she grabbed the small box from her back pocket. Her other bandmates were already out there, most likely high out of their minds and snorting a line off of the stairway. You bit your lip in order to not let anything slip that you knew you’d regret later on.

“Hey! Lighter.” She yelled to someone who you didn’t know the name of and quickly after, a lighter was thrown at her and she caught it in her hand like it was a baseball. She leaned against the alleyway wall, one of her legs holding her up while the other folded at the knee to rest on the wall.

“You want one or not?” She nodded in your direction with the box in her hands. You reached out after a moment of worry. You were wondering if this was a bad idea, but what harm could one do? She put the small container back into her back pocket after you took one, lighting her cigarette before cupping her hands around yours and doing the same. The moment you inhaled the tough smoke, your lungs filled with the disgusting taste of it. It traveled down your throat and tickled it on the way. She laughed when you had a small coughing fit.

“You look like me the first time I smoked.” You were never the adventurous type when you were younger, often opting in to finish your studies or watch a movie. It paid off in the end when you had a good-paying job and a nice house, but there were still times in your life when you regretted not having the same amount of fun your past friends had. While half of them either ended up with addictions or dead-end jobs that did nothing to support them, you still wished you got to experience all of those events instead of having your first drink of alcohol with your parents on your twenty-first birthday. God, how that still embarrassed you.

But Kate wasn’t like that. She was a nineteen-year-old girl with a passion for music. She wasn’t in college and she had a boring job serving and making coffee. But at the end of the week, she got to unwind with her vocals and melodies. You aspired to be the kind of girl she is.

“You ever done worse than cigs?” You asked in a beat of silence, your stance matching Kate’s but clearly looking more awkward and forced than she did.

“Depends, what do you see as worse than this?” You shrugged, going over all the options in your head of the things you’ve always heard people around her age getting addicted to. Even one of your clients had come to you, seeking help with the depression she had dealt with, mainly due to the pills she used on a daily. Her boyfriend was abusive and a drug dealer, her mother was on her death bed, and her scholarship was ruined due when they found out what she was taking. Her father had left her when she was young and she had no one left, she couldn’t even face her mother after the events took place.

“I don’t know, like…weed. Cocaine, heroin, LSD, anything really.”

“I smoke weed often, but I’m not an addict. I’ve tried cocaine once, didn’t like how it made my nose feel after. And that’s really it. Oh, I did use mushrooms before too.” She casually spoke, as if she hadn’t admitted to taking illegal drugs. After all, she didn’t know if you were a cop, she didn’t know anything about you.

“And?”

“And, it wasn’t horrible, but fucking expensive.”

“And weed isn’t?”

“Nah, my pals mostly give me a discount on it. They grow it themselves so they make a fuck load of money, they don’t need mine.” She stomped on the cigarette bud that was now on the ground before saying bye to her pals. It was already late and you two had been standing there for over an hour in the peaceful, cold night. Well, peaceful wasn’t the best word to describe it. Cars were honking at one another and angry drivers were shouting. Some people were shouting and fighting the air, you took note of their bodies and came to the conclusion that they were under something stronger than what you were using. Music was still blaring from the pub and people were getting kicked out left and right, some leaving with blood dripping down their faces.

“So, you wanna head back to my place?” While you wanted to take up the offer, you knew you couldn’t. You hadn’t even told your husband the truth about where you were, insisting that you were staying late at work to finish some files before getting a quick drink with Wanda. He’d know something was up if you didn’t come home that night, and with Kate’s clear intentions, you knew you wouldn’t be heading home afterward.

“Uh, I can’t. My husband would probably be suspicious if I weren’t to return home.” She smiled devilishly at your words, trailing her fingertips lightly against your arm. You shivered, and it wasn’t from the close-to-negative temperature.

“Where’d you tell him you were going?”

“Staying late at work, then getting a drink with a friend of mine.”

“Ah, the classic cheating excuse, sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t.” You looked at her dumbfounded and stepped back from her touch.

“I’m not cheating on my husband.”

“So, this,” She stepped towards you once again, your body fighting against you and leaning into her. She placed her hands on your ass and pulled your forward, looking into your eyes with that hazy look she had. She leaned her face into your neck, brushing her lips against the soft skin as her breath tickled you.

“This is nothing?” She whispered as you felt a small peck landing on your neck. She did it one, two, three times before you came back to your senses and pushed her off of you.

“Stop it, Kate! I’m not going to cheat on my husband, I still love him.” She raised her hands defensively and laughed. Oh, how you wanted to rip that smirk off her face. But simultaneously, you wanted nothing more than to see that smirk as she hovered over you, her cold fingers causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin as she touched you just below the belt. Having her peel off your pants, kiss down your body as your head would be thrown back when her tongue would lick up all of your wetness caused by her.

“Then why did you even come here?” You tried keeping a hardened face, although it wasn’t exactly easy with the thoughts racing through your mind.

“You really expect me to believe you just wanted to hear me sing? Please, I’m not that innocent, Y/N. I know you wanted to see what else I could do with my mouth-” You tried walking away before anything could escalate, but her hand gripped your wrist with a tight hold.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby girl.”

“I’m older than you, I’m not your baby.” She shook her head with a laugh. The number of times she had chuckled tonight was unbearable, but you wanted to hear more of it. You chased the sound that was so heavenly to you.

“Yeah, well, I wanna call you my baby girl if you let me. Will you be my baby girl, Y/N?” Yes. Yes. Yes, is what you wanted to scream out. You could’ve died just at the thought of her calling you that alone.

“I-”

“Let me have your phone. I’ll put my number in it and you can text me if you want. Or, you can go home to your husband and sleep in his arms while you wish it was me.” You reached into your purse and handed it to her after a moment. Your mind raced with any possible fear you could have, but you stood still and didn’t let it show. She opened your phone, the lack of a password making it easy to access anything she’d want. But she only went to contacts, typed in her digits, and gave it back to you. She leaned in to kiss your cheek and gave you a wink as she left. You were stuck in your spot, staring at your phone that had at least ten messages and calls from your husband that were silenced when you put it on do not disturb. You sighed and rubbed your temples with your hands before walking to the sidewalk of the loud street, calling over a taxi, and having him drive you home. You paid sixty-two dollars and thirty-two cents and thanked the man before exiting the car, walking to the front of your house, and using the key to enter.

Your husband was dead asleep in your shared bedroom, the only thing covering his body being a wife-beater and blue, Calvin Klein boxers. You walked into the bathroom, setting your phone down and grabbing your toothbrush. Your mind was plagued with the thought of her, of Kate. You wondered what she was doing right now, or who she was doing.

Once you had put everything away you grabbed your phone, staring at the number and debating on whether or not you were going to reach out. You wanted to, but there was still that small lingering fear that had you wondering if you should or not. If you did, you could risk your marriage and your heart. But if you didn’t, you could risk the unknown never being discovered.

Fuck it, you thought as you typed in a quick message to the woman, checking your phone every few seconds for a response. You didn’t expect one so fast, but she was record timing with her two-minute wait to respond.

Kate: So you did take up my offer after all

You: Yeah, I did.

You waited for her text with beads of sweat practically dripping down your face. You were so anxious and kept looking out the door for any sign of your husband waking up. He was out cold.

Kate: You don’t gotta be so formal on text yk

You: Well, I guess I just like being formal. Is that so bad?

Kate: Not at all baby

You: Why do you keep calling me that? I’m nearly twice your age, if anything, I should be calling you baby.

The three dots went in and out before you put your phone down, trying your best to think about anything else but failing in the end. You couldn’t stray away from her for more than a minute before you were falling back in for more.

Kate: You want me to be your baby?

You sucked in a breath, shuddering as you released it. You were up against the wall as you slid down it, the cold tiles pressing against you through the thin shirt you had on. You only wore a loose, lacy camisole and matching panties. Steve loved seeing you in it but he was too tired to be granted that gift.

You: I don’t know, maybe.

Your hand lowered into your panties, feeling your wet slit as you slowly parted your legs. You nearly jumped when your fingers made contact with your clit, you were absolutely dripping. How did she have such an effect on you in such little time? The question was one you’d never know. But what you did know was that you were in need of her. You needed her cold, long fingers replacing yours.

You pictured her face as you came to an orgasm. Her hair surrounding her perfectly sculptured face, falling over you as she laid on top of your shaking body. Her plump lips bringing you to another orgasm. Her soft thighs clenching as you returned the favor. Her breath shaky and hollow, a mere image of yours right now.

Kate: You still there Y/N?

The ding brought your focus back onto the phone, but still on her. You wanted to tell her what you had just done, would she think you’re too weird? Would she like it? Would she block you? You chose the safest bet in letting this rest in your deepest, darkest secrets file stored in your mind.

You: Sorry about that, I was doing something.

Three dots, a bubble. A response.

Kate: What were u doing?

You contemplated your options. If you told her, there was the risk of creeping her out, scaring her away for good. And you didn’t want that, she was one of the first people you enjoyed talking to in years. But if you didn’t tell her, maybe she’d never make a move on you again. That seemed great for many, but the facade you put up was only out of fear. Fear of someone seeing, fear of cheating, the fear of falling in so deep for her.

You: Just getting dressed.

You went with the safer option, feeling like your life was a video game where every small question can change the whole ending. Your nails were being bit down on as you anxiously awaited her.

Kate: What are u wearing?

Not what you were expecting. But with Kate, nobody could ever expect anything besides the unexpected. That’s what you enjoyed about her, she was unpredictable. She was like an adventure to a new country, you had no idea what you were doing or saying but you loved every moment of it.

You: This new camisole I got and my underwear. Nothing sexy, trust me.

Kate: Show me

You tried finding the best angle to take the photo, even standing to try and take a mirror pic but failing. You cursed to yourself and sat back down to where you were before, bringing your phone above your body and leaning it downward to take the picture. You sent it without looking back and saw the ‘read’ signal pop up. She was typing, and then it went away. The way she had this power over you shocked you immensely, why did you care so much about a girl who could sing? Maybe it was because she paid attention to you, something your husband for the life of him couldn’t do. Or maybe it was the exciting part of it. Your whole life was always a bore, but today had to have been the most exciting day in your nearly forty years of living.

Kate: Fuck youre so hot

You smiled to yourself and took another photo, this time including your face in the mix.

Kate: Baby youre killin me here

She sent a photo a second later, stating it took a minute to load before you were able to see it. You whimpered when seeing her under a blanket, clear signs of her wearing nothing underneath. Her leg was sticking out enough to be able to see that there was no underwear or shorts on. Her shoulders were exposed and you could almost see the top of her breasts from the angle. Her hair was sprawled out across the pillow beneath her head, her chin being the only part of her face you could see.

Before you could respond, another photo made its way to you. Her leg that was sticking out had her hand now resting on it, on the top of her inner thigh. Her pinky finger was just able to be seen as it mostly went under the blanket. She was so close to touching her core that even you were on edge and waiting for more.

Kate: I guess ur regretting not coming over now huh

You: I really wish I could’ve, trust me, I do.

Kate: Then why don’t u? Ur husband is prob dead asleep and would never know

Before you could answer, she was already typing out yet another response.

Kate: And r u just gonna leave me like this? Im so wet for you baby girl

Kate: U don’t know how badly I wanted to fuck u back at the pub

Kate: I can’t stop thinking bout it

Kate: U wanna know smth?

You quickly looked up the meaning of her slang word before answering, still watching the bed with a close eye for any movement.

You: What is it?

Kate: Ive been touching myself this whole time

You groaned to yourself, the wetness you fought so hard to relieve only coming back even worse.

Kate: Idk what if is about u but ur just so fucking sexy

Kate: Ive always been into older women but ur just different

Kate: In the best fucking way

You: I appreciate the compliment, baby.

Kate: I wanna hear u say that to me

Kate: I bet it sounds so hot coming from ur mouth

Your fingers somehow found their way back inside of your already-drenched panties. Your sore clit was rubbed in circles as you bucked your hips up to meet yourself halfway.

“Oh, fuck!” You mumbled under your breath, trying your best to cover your mouth but failing in the process.

You grabbed your phone, pressing the camera icon and pointing it to where your hand was almost hidden. You debated sending it, although you now knew she was doing the same so, what was the shame in it?

Kate: U alone?

You: Yeah, I’m in the bathroom and my husband is in the next room, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon.

You waited for a text, but instead, the screen lit up with a call. It wasn’t FaceTime so you wouldn’t be able to see her, but your mind already had enough pictures of her.

“You there, baby?” You hummed as an answer, afraid that if you were to speak, you’d end up gambling your words. Your breath was heavy, practically a pant by now.

“You sound so hot, fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” She bit her lip, her breath the same as yours as she rode her fingers. She had two inside of herself and she couldn’t help but think of how the night would’ve gone if you were there with her. For now, she’d have to stick to her fantasies. But soon enough, she’d have you. And she’d make you hers for good, no matter what that pity of a husband thought of it.

“I’m so close, I’m so close!” You whined, your wetness loud enough for Kate on the other end to hear. It only helped bring her closer to the edge as her coil tightened.

“Cum with me, Y/N.” It was in a low, cracked tone, but you could hear it. You followed her orders and exploded on your fingers, slumping even further against the wall when you heard her reach her peak as well.

“Can I tell you something, Kate?” You mimicked her earlier text with a grin, already picturing the type of effect it’d have on her when hearing what was to follow.

“Hm?”

“That wasn’t the first time this night that I touched myself thinking of you.” You hung up before she could answer, leaving her dumbfounded on her bed.

You lied in bed and that’s when everything hit you. Your husband, who slept near inches away from you, could’ve heard the way you came for another woman. Your orgasms with him weren’t nearly as good and you hadn’t even been touched by her yet, you could only imagine what that’d be like.

Tears threatened to spill as the realization came crashing down; you cheated. You were a cheater, and that would forever haunt you, you already knew it.

The rest of the weekend was mostly a blur, all that you did remember was Saturday night, dinner with the Wilsons. Sam was a kind man, tall, smart, and very handsome. He and his wife seemed to get along well, but so did you and Steve to the public eye. They had two children, one was turning sixteen while the other had just turned nine.

“You alright there, Y/N? You’ve been extra quiet tonight.” The whole table turned to look your way, the newfound attention leaving you slightly embarrassed. You waved them off and luckily, they listened. Truth be told, you didn’t want the liquor they were offering, you wanted the coffee from the shop. More like you wanted an excuse to go, that way you could see Kate again. You hoped it wouldn’t be awkward after the night before, the thought alone making you clench your thighs.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, bringing your phone with you and, right when you closed the door, pulling it out. You went to your contacts list and opened the text icon, typing a quick ‘I miss you.’ to Kate before you could regret it. But you already did. Fuck, you could already see her, laughing at the text with a different girl she brought home. You weren’t doubting her, per se, but she had mentioned before how she’s a ladies' lady, often attracting anyone she wanted into her arms, or even her bed.

A ding brought you out of your disturbance and you looked down, your hopes of it being Kate soon fulfilled as you read the text.

Kate: Come see me then

You: I’m at dinner, but I just needed to talk to you.

You weren’t able to see it, but she was secretly smiling at the messages. She had never been one for relationships, often opting for hookups instead. And when they wanted to be with her, she’d either block them and never speak to them again or say yes, but never actually planning to be anything more than friends with benefits in her mind. She was a heartbreaker, of course, she was. She was destined from birth to have a good time, and how could you have fun with just one person?

Kate: I’m at work rn but I’d way rather be with you

You: You’ve barely even known me for more than a few days, why so interested?

Kate: I could say the same bout u Y/N

Touche. She had you beat at your own game.

There was a knock erupting on the door, making you jump in fright. You were so distracted texting her that you didn’t realize it had been about eight minutes of you just standing in the bathroom. Walking back into the dining table was a bit awkward when everyone knew where you came from, it wasn’t exactly the best place to be hiding for so long.

“So, Y/N,” Sam started, drawing your attention back to him. “Steve said you and him had been talking about having children lately, and we just wanted to say congratulations and we wish you the best of luck in the process. Trust me, I know how long those things can take.” The rest of the table let out half-hearted laughs that you didn’t return. You looked at him with furrowed brows, shaking your head slowly.

“What do you mean? I and Steve haven’t discussed children-” You felt a small tap to your thigh and looked over to see your husband with a deceiving smile. It was clear he had been telling a lie to everyone while you were gone, but you weren’t going to stand for it. You had made it clear that having children would most likely not be an option for you two in the future, and each time he denied it, saying you’d come to your senses soon and that you were the only ones in the town your age without kids, that you were starting to get too old to push the thought away.

“What she means is, thank you for your support-”

“No, what I mean is we’re not having children, Steven.” You could sense the tension around the table as everyone looked at you two for another move. He sighed deeply, grabbing his things along with yours and having you both say your goodbyes to everyone. He gripped your wrist with certainty and practically dragged you to the car, not even caring to open the door for you as he got into his side.

The whole ride was full of silence, so thought it was best to finally be able to respond to Kate after you had left her in the bathroom.

You: Hey, sorry about the wait, someone knocked on the door and I had to go back to the table with the others. Xx

You added the Xs in hopes they’d show off a sense of regret and sorrow for not answering sooner. But she didn’t seem to mind as she answered back in an instant.

Kate: Hey baby I was starting to think u ditched me

You: I’m sorry, love, I had an argument with Steve at the table. Now we’re headed home and I wanted to talk to you before, well, we argue more.

Kate: Who’s Steve?

You must’ve forgotten to mention his name to her in the time you spent getting to know one another. You were slightly worried about the fact that you had a husband, not so much about the cheating aspect but about how Kate must feel. Does it turn her on knowing that she’s taking you away from him? That she’s now considered a homewrecker? Maybe she didn’t like the thought. But she also did seem pretty into it last night on the phone. Whatever she felt, she was good at hiding it.

You: My husband.

Kate: Oh so he’s the asshole?

You chuckled quietly to yourself, afraid to make too much noise when he was sitting right there. You didn’t want him to question you, so you turned the brightness of your phone down in case he looked in the window. And you turned at a perfect angle to which he couldn’t see your phone but he also wouldn’t notice you acting secretive.

You: He’s not an asshole, Kate, he struggles with his own issues and I help him with that.

Kate: He seems like an asshole to me especially since he took u away from me

You: We met eleven years ago, if anything you’re taking me away from him.

Kate: And is that such a bad thing?

You: Of course not, I prefer you way more than I do him.

Before you could look to see what she had said back, Steve was already trying to catch your attention.

“Can you get off that damn phone for one second, Y/N?” You hummed and did so slowly, unbuckling your seatbelt as quickly as possible when you saw that you had arrived home. He tried to stop you, but you were already gone.

Once the door opened and closed behind him, he took off his suit jacket before turning to you. You stood in the kitchen, pot in hand as you poured a cup of tea for yourself.

“If you’re expecting me to apologize, don’t.” He rested his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You suddenly remembered all the times you had gone to Wanda, explaining how attractive he was when he looked mad. Now, you hated more than anything to see him this way. You hated seeing him in general.

“Oh, I do. You think you can go over there and embarrass me like that in front of all of my friends and expect me to be okay with it?”

“And you expect me to sit there, listening to your agitating rants about how busy your work life is, how hard it is for you, and how badly you wish you could quit? Then fucking do it already! And do you expect me to sit there while you make up lies about us having kids when I deliberately told you I don’t want them? God, why can’t you just respect my choice? You’re not the one carrying the child, I am!”

“I want a child, Y/N. This could help me with my addiction, it could even help with us and our marriage.” He tried reasoning with you, but you stood your ground.

“I’m not going to bear a child just because you think it could help you, what about me? What about what I want, Steven?”

“What you want is what’s best for us, and for our family.”

“There is no family, Steve, it’s us. It’s me and you, a marriage, that’s all.” He ran his hands through his hair and, without another word, he walked his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. You took this as your chance to see what Kate had written earlier today.

Kate: Oh really?

You: Yeah. I want to see you this week, how about Monday? I’ll stop by your work and I could even pick you up if you’d like.

You set your phone down and drank the cup of tea in your hands, sighing contently. Even if you had just had a disagreement and shamed yourself in front of your friends and his, things felt okay. You had a feeling that if Kate said yes, you’d be looking forward to that day until it came.

Kate: That sounds perfect. My shift starts at 7 and ends at 4 wbu?

You, once again, found yourself looking up the meaning of her slang, it was most likely just a young person thing. Once you got your result, you reopened her and your messages and wrote out;

You: I’ll be done around 6 PM. Although, I do start at 11 AM, maybe I can stop by your work?

Kate: That sounds great baby girl. See you Monday?

You: Yeah, I’ll be looking forward to it!

You changed her contact name, adding a little heart at the end with a smile. You feared what would happen if your husband saw your phone, and saw any notification from someone with a red heart next to their name. He didn’t even have one, to anyone else his caller ID seemed like it must’ve been a friend, not the person you married.

You entered your room, leaning against the door to let out a sigh before walking to the bathroom. You felt the cold marble under your hands as you leaned over the sink, spitting the toothpaste out of your mouth before rinsing off. When you lied back in bed, lifting the blanket over your body, your husband turned to coddle you. His arms went around your waist and his front rubbed against yours.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have forced you like I did. You think I can try and make it up to you?” His dick poked at your backside and you grinned, turning your head to see his now perfectly above yours. His lips pressed against your own, his hands wandering down your frame and stopping at the waistline of your shorts. He pulled them down slowly, his breath a dark, deep shake.

“Your skin feels so soft, so perfect you are.” His cock throbbed with need, a need to return to its true home. Not tucked away in his clothes, but deep inside your cunt, just like he wanted.

“I wanna fucking ravish you, love.” You ran your hand down to his now freed length, stroking him gently as your other went to rub your clit. No matter how badly you were trying to keep your train of thought on him, on your partner, you couldn’t stop thinking about Kate. When you came just picturing her, and once more just from her voice. Steve, while he was an animal in bed, had never once made you feel as hot and bothered as you did from Kate. Even in the little time you knew her and the years you knew him, there was such a difference.

Monday came by surprisingly quickly and you were ecstatic. Kate was too, she had been texting you all morning when she was supposed to be working. You lectured her playfully, and she got a serious lecture from her boss in return.

“What would you like to drink?” The man asked you bluntly, all manners of his being thrown away as his clear exhaustion showed. You gave him a small smile, asking for the lady in the back. He sighed heavily with exaggeration, yelling into the back and soon after you saw the young girl rushing out. She looked annoyed, that was until she saw you. Her face lit up, a quirk of her lips showing as she hurried over to you, rushing out a ‘going on break!’ to her boss and dragging you to the back. There was a small room, but it was more like a closet. You guessed it was a storage unit of sorts, but you didn’t have time to question it as she pushed you against the wall.

“Oh, Katey.” You hummed into her mouth, her lips loosely against yours. She leaned back, biting her lip and staring at you through hooded eyes.

“That’s new, I like it.” You groaned when her lips were placed on your neck, her teeth grazing over the skin ever so lightly. She stopped, looking up at you with a slightly clenched jaw. It was hard to notice, but you picked up on it. You were a therapist, after all, you noticed everything.

“What’s this?” She traced her fingertip over the mark on your neck that you failed to cover up. Foundation was put over it, but she still saw through it, saw through you.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, baby girl.” Her fingers rested under your chin, pulling your face up higher so you’d look her in the eyes. She wasn’t some, stupid, naive little girl, she knew what it was, but she was jealous it wasn’t her marks.

“This from your husband?” You nodded with a gulp of fear mixed with lust. She scoffed, licking over the spot and sucking firmly. She was intending to make her own hickeys, whether you wanted them or not.

“Kate, I…slow down a bit, okay?”

“Or what? You gonna punish me?” Your eyes fluttered shut as her hand swept down your body in no time, slipping past the entryway of your pants and into your panties.

“You gonna, tie me up? Fuck me however long you want, not caring for one second about your little Katey’s pleasure, hm?” She was practically speaking to herself as you humped her palm that was rubbing deliciously against your clit. Two of her fingers prodded at your hole and suddenly the remembrance of Friday night came flooding back in. When you had your fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your hole because she had gotten you so wet, so needy. She had this effect on you that you didn’t quite understand, but you loved the chase of it all.

“You’re so wet, baby girl, this all for me?” You nodded your head. “Yeah? Did you greet your husband this morning knowing you were going to get fucked in the supply closet at my work? God, you’re such a slut. How are you going to face him now? Knowing that I’ve fucked you better than he ever has.” Her nose flared in anger, her head tossing back as she humped your thigh that stood out. You were both chasing one another’s highs at this point, and it was so exhilarating.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered into her shoulder, your head now resting on it as a way to feel closer to her.

“I know you are, and that’s the best part.” Your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your lip being bitten into by your teeth.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’ve ruined me.” While the words seemed harsh, she couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. No time spent with other girls had ever equaled to you, she wondered if it was due to your age. While she was the outgoing type, the type you’d usually see in kids her age, she had always been mature for her age. And for some reason, she had always been drawn to older women like yourself. She blamed most of it on the abandonment her mother often gave her from a young age, or the lack of love that made her have a deep desire to be cherished by someone like you.

“You know, I’ve always been, like, so drawn to older women. In eighth grade, I had the biggest crush on my history teacher. I’d roam the halls just to see her, and I’d skip class just to think about her more, and I would just hope that every time I got detention, she’d be the one watching me. You feel like that. It- I don’t know how to explain it but you just feel like that, like that excitement of having a middle school crush and all your friends would embarrass you or make fun of you for it. You just feel so fun yet calming at the same time. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never been with a woman before if I’m being honest, although if I was, my husband would have probably asked me for a threesome already. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I’m so attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re so unbelievably attractive, but you’re just so exciting and refreshing, I feel like a teenager again.” Your foreheads were resting against each other’s as you leaned in for a kiss, brushing your lips gently over hers so she’d make the first move, which she did. The two of you progressed into a sloppy makeout with tongues and teeth clashing together, your noses often hitting softly. That was until someone came pounding on the door, demanding that Kate needed to return to her shift as she was way overdue.

“Well, when can I see you again?”

“I don’t know, maybe sometime-”

“I want you to come to my place.” She interrupted, not seeming to care for her coworker waiting outside the door.

“W-what?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You could even spend the night, just like we talked about on the phone.” It was more of a question than an offer, you could hear the slight fear in her voice. You didn’t know what she had to be afraid of, especially when she was with you, in your arms. You raised your hand to her cheek, stroking the skin softly and pecking her lips once more.

“We’ll talk about it more later, alright?” She nodded and, due to her pal's request, returned to where she had to be, tugging the apron back onto her body and walking out of the small hallway in the back. You followed after a moment, keeping your head down in hopes no one would be able to pick up on what just happened.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You heard from the customer’s side of the register. You stopped in your tracks, slowly raising and turning your head to see who it was, hoping it wasn’t anyone you knew too well.

Wanda. Fuck. The suspicion was obvious in her tone but you didn’t blame her, if you had seen her walking out of a no-customers-allowed break room after a woman just left before you, you’d have questions.

She walked over to you, but you were rushing out of the store before she could meet you. She called your name, but you didn’t look back. Kate sighed, hiding her face from the other woman as she watched you leave.

“That lady that just left…why was she back there with you?” She asked Kate, placing her hands on the counter and leaning in close enough to whisper. Your mistress shrugged without thought, writing the name on the cup before continuing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…Wanda.” She read from the cup and walked to the back to continue brewing the coffee. She pulled out her phone quickly, pressing on your contact and typing out a quick message.

Kate <3: Wanda huh? U got another hoe Idk about?

You: Haha, very funny, Kate.

You entered your office with a deep sigh, the events from earlier still looming in your mind. You were still in such a need for her, you’ve never been so wet.

You walked over to your desk and opened the notebook in hand, trying to distract yourself from the soak in your panties. You could barely focus, there was sweat dripping on your forehead and you had to remove your reading glasses, hands gripping the desk as you tried taking deep breaths. It was so hard not to think about the things you had just done not even an hour ago, and how her fingers felt so well sliding against your walls.

The knock on the door interrupted your brain's fast thinking, but you were grateful. If you didn’t stop, you would’ve been caught grinding against your chair or fingering yourself in hopes that it would feel just as good as Kate's.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Wanda stood there awkwardly before sitting down on the couch, placing her coffee on the table in front of her and leaning back, her hands clasping together and resting on her knee.

“So, are we going to talk about earlier?” You played dumb in hopes she’d let it go and not mention it anymore.

“What about earlier?”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, you’re really going to act like I didn’t see you at the cafe down the street? And not to mention, the way you walked out of the back after another woman?” She took a moment before continuing her words, “Are you- are you having an affair?” You stopped in your steps, the same way you did earlier.

“Wanda, I’m going to need to excuse you from my office, I have a patient.” You opened the door for her and, before she could say anything more, you were closing the door in her face. You hated hearing it, that you being with another woman while still coming home to your partner and acting like it never happened was the definition of having an affair. You wiped the tears before they could arise and called in your patient, trying your best to listen and sympathize as if you weren’t dying inside.

The week went by slowly, painfully slowly. You and Kate had planned to meet Friday night, and it was that night. You haven’t seen her since, but you haven’t been able to stop yourself from texting her nonstop. She didn’t mind though, if anything, she was as obsessed as you.

You two had called twice, it didn’t feel like enough but hearing her voice eased you better than anyone.

Before you could leave and see Kate, you had one more patient. You weren’t exactly dreading it, Yelena was always a sweetheart and you’d never complain about seeing her, but you so desperately needed to touch Kate again.

“So, Yelena, did you complete your homework for the week?” She nodded proudly, and you loved to see it. You smiled, rubbing her knee and thigh softly. She craved the comfort from you, the motherly acts you gave her that she wished to receive from her own.

“That’s great! Here,” You put your hand in the air and she gave you the high-five you were asking for.

“I…well, I cut off contacts with her, but I just was really struggling to press delete for her contact.” You nodded understandably and let a hum escape your lips.

“Alright, I understand. It’s not easy to let go of things you had a connection to, especially when going back on your older self who never thought something like this would happen, where you’d lose the one person you started to love and trust.”

“But I don’t understand why I loved her so much. We, uh, we slept together a few times and went on a few dates, but I could tell she was uninterested in the thought of anything more than sex. She didn’t even love me, but I was practically obsessed with her and I hate myself so much for it, you know?” You handed her a tissue from the box on the table which she accepted with a small ‘thank you’.

“We don’t choose who we love, Yelena. We choose who we keep, and you wanted to keep her, but trust me when I say this, this girl, is not worth ruining yourself over. If she truly cared about you, she’d be fighting for you the way you did for her.” She knew you were right, but it was never easy to let go of someone who had this much of a hold on you. You knew it too, Kate already had a certain hold on you that you couldn’t remove no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” She asked, now at the end of your one hour together. “I was wondering if you could help me do the honors of deleting her number completely.” You agreed and once she gave you her phone, you pressed the contact she gave you. Your eyebrows furrowed at the name and picture, your eyes then following as they widened.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath and nearly dropped the phone if it wasn’t for your other hand being there. Yelena looked at you weirdly, but you shook it off as cramps.

“S-so, you want me to delete her contact? Like, permanently?” She nodded and her leg bounced nervously. Her hand came to her mouth as she bit her nails, rocking back and forth as she watched you hesitantly press delete. It felt like you were deleting her from your life, but it only made it worse knowing you were seeing your client's ex. Well, if it was even counted as an ex.

“Uhm, I’ll see you next week then?” You said your goodbyes and rushed out nearly as fast as her. You drove with speed, your fingertips bouncing on the driver's wheel anxiously, you were doing all the bad habits you helped others grow out of. Kate was texting you repeatedly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

When you knocked on the door to the apartment at the address she had given you, it took only ten seconds for her to answer. She was about to say her greetings, until you pushed past her abruptly and walked back and forth in the room.

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong, love?”

“Don’t call me ‘love’, Kate.” She waited for you to stop pacing before approaching you. Tears were streaming down your face and she wiped them against your will.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess?” When you stayed silent, she sighed heavily.

“You don’t answer any of my texts ‘till I start to think you’re going to ditch me here and then you come bursting in crying, and now you’re refusing to let me in so, please, just tell me what the fuck is going on, Y/N.” She loosely held onto your arms and searched your face for any sign but you gave none.

“I had a client come in today, one of my regulars. She’s been going for about a year-and-a-half now, she’s become like a daughter to me.” You were struggling to finish your sentence. She had led you to the couch now, and she was listening closely as you spoke. She was listening, and that was all you were asking for.

“Her name is Yelena Belova.” You saw the gears switch in her head as she leaned back, letting out a deep breath and resting her head in her hands.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” You both sat in silence awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say or do in this situation. She suddenly stood up, your eyes watching her body as she walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of liquor that you couldn’t quite make out from the cabinet and poured the drink in two red, party cups. She walked back to where you sat, handing you the cup and downing hers in one go.

“Are we going to talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” You looked at her, then your drink, and then back at her. She leaned down to your level, holding your chin and parting your mouth, grabbing your cup and slowly pouring the substance into your dry mouth. You closed your eyes, basking in the hard taste.

“There we go, good girl, sweetheart.” Her lip quirked up at the way your legs ever so slightly clenched together, almost invisible to anothers’ eye, but she picked up on everything about you. “I thought that was my nickname for you, sweetheart.” You teased her words, seeming to let go of the tense aroma you walked in with. You still weren’t fully relaxed, but the alcohol with a side of Kate helped ease you just a bit.

“Can’t I call you whatever I want? After all, you are mine, right?” She straddled your lap, her arms going around the back of your neck as she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a way that had you begging for more. She pecked you gently, but only once, she wanted you to fight for her touch.

“I’m all yours, Katey.” You gulped, feeling her fingertips playing with the hairs on the back of your neck and causing goosebumps to arise to the surface.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that.” You felt her hips start a slow rock on your thighs and rested your palms on her own, trying to guide her. She let you. She let you help guide her to an orgasm, hoping it would be as intense as the other day. She rolled her head back, exposing her neck to the only person in the apartment besides her, you. Your lips found place on the skin, trying your best to leave marks just like she had wished to do to you. She moaned, and the sound alone almost made you cum.

“Does that feel good, Katey?” You heard her, once again, growl at the nickname and smiled, realizing the effect you had on her.

“So good, mommy.” You paused for a moment and soaked in her words, but she didn’t seem to notice as she focused on the pleasure pooling in her panties. While in shock, you had accidently bitten down on her skin, hard. She moaned even louder, and, while you always had a suspicion she was into harsher treatment during sex, you never expected that.

“Oh God, I’m gonna-” She was cut off by her orgasm that came crashing down on her, leaving her body to still momentarily. You admired her body, the marks of your love that were starting to turn purple, the wetness residue on her panties, her blown out face, and her flawless hair. You had an obsession with it, it was just so perfectly silky and had just the right amount of curls to go with the straigtness that was her hair.

“That’s it, cum for mommy.” You played along, watching as her eyes trailed to your own and her lip was taken between her teeth. Your digits toyed with the button to her gray jeans, undoing it slowly and dipping your hand into her undergarments, teasing her clit just enough to get a whine out of her and grabbing her juices on your fingertips. You ran them over her mouth before she parted them, sucking your fingers as if her life depended on it.

“You’re so pretty, Kate..” She smiled around your digits, running her hands down your body and finding your breasts.

“You wanna come to bed with me, baby girl?” You nodded and she quickly got off your waist, dragging you along as she walked backwards to her open bedroom that was only covered by sheets hanging from the ceiling. She kept her hands interlaced with yours, your feet nearly tripping from hers as she landed on the bed with a soft thud, you following soon after her. Her hands continued to roam your body and found your breasts once more. You looked down at her, smiling at the way she seemed completely absorbed by you.

“Take this off…please.” She said, motioning to your shirt. You chuckled, leaning back to do as she said, hearing her breath fall short when seeing you in just a lacy bra.

“You like it?” She nodded. “Good, I wore it just for you.” As badly as she wanted to see your bare tits, she also loved the clothing that you wore just for her. It made her shutter knowing that you woke up this morning and searched through the best clothes, all for her. She could only imagine what was under your dress pants.

“If I’m taking off mine, you need to take off yours.” She quickly took discarded her shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor and smirking to herself when she noticed your hand close to your crotch.

“You need some help with that?” You breathlessly nodded and, in an instant, she undid your bottoms, leaving you almost completely naked. You guessed her fast and effortless moves were from the many girls she had been with, but knowing you were the only one she wanted to truly keep made your heart warm.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” You could hear the truthfulness in her tone, and it could’ve nearly made you cry. No matter how many times you were complimented for your well-put looks, none of them meant as much to you as hers.

You unclasped your bra, letting her see you in full glory. You were nervous, she had never seen you entirely bare, but you wanted to fully give yourself to her, she deserved that and so did you.

“Katey, I-” You paused, the fear of her judgement filling your mind.

“Go on, baby.”

“I…I want to ride your face.” Your worries only gre with her silence, but they were instantly forgotten when she had started tugging your body forward to rest on top of her face, just like you wanted. But you could tell she wanted it even more than you.

“You won’t hurt me, baby girl, I want this.” You nodded and sunk down onto her, sighing in pleasure as her tongue immediately started lapping at your folds. She was like a starved animal with the way she ate you out, leaving no room for complaints on your end. She moaned at your taste and it shot vibrations through you. You gripped the headboard with one hand, the other playing with her soft hair. The need was too great, and your hips had a mind of their own as you started grinding on her tongue. She kept it in place, letting you take control without care of the pains in her jaw she would receive later on.

“Yeah, let mommy ride that cute fucking face!” Her hips seemed to also have a mind of their own as they started bucking up, her cunt clenching around nothing as your’s clenched around her mouth. Her fingers trailed down to her hole, slipping in with ease as she fucked herself to your sounds. It made her wetter than you could ever imagine, and you internally thanked the neighbor who took a vacation, it would’ve been beyond embarrasing if they heard how loud you two were being. She had probably gotten complaints from others before about the noise, but your mind wasn’t even able to process that thought as the only thing invading it was her. Your girl. Your Kate.

“Oh, Katey, mommy’s gonna cum in that slutty mouth of yours.” You grinned to yourself, letting your hands yank her head into place. You knew she loved the way you spoke along with the way you pulled her hair, she was just a kinky little fuck.

“Shit! I’m cumming, baby!” You practically yelled as the coil in your stomach snapped, causing her face to be coated in your juices. Her tongue continued to lap up any of you that tried to get away, she was greedy for your taste.

Only moments later and you were on your knees sprawled out on the bed, watching as Kate attatched the harness to her waist. She smiled in victory when she did and grabbed something from the closet, hiding it behind her bacn as she slowly trailed back to you.

“So, I was wondering if we could try a little something tonight.” You were worried to hear what it was going to be, but when you saw handcuffs being placed next to your body it eased into excitement.

“Who exactly is going to be the one getting handcuffed?” Without responding she latched them both around your wrists, keeping your hands behind your back and smirking when realizing you were completely at her mercy.

“Wish I could just, take a picture of you like this. Maybe I’d send it to your husband, or your friend, make them realize how much of a slut you are for someone you just met.” She cupped open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue and making you keep it there until drool was rolling down your chin. She grabbed her polaroid camera, snapping the picture of you and letting it rest to dry. She turned you around, giving a few smacks to your ass and snapping another picture, capturing the red hand print.

“I can’t decide whether I want to gag you and make you drool like a brainless slut while I fuck you, or if I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours.” Her strap teased your ass, her fingers playing with your clit and making it difficult to speak. You whined when her tip eased into your tightest hole, only for her to pull out right after.

“We’ll save that for another day. But right now, I wanna fuck this precious pussy.” She eased into you once again, this time not pulling out as your warm walls wrapped around her and tried to force her to stay in place, missing the feeling of being full but needing the feeling of being filled by her even more.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I wish I had a real dick, then I’d never pull out.” Her tongue licked a stripe up your neck before she left multiple kisses like you had done to her earlier one, only this time she was the one making you cum. Her lips trailed down to your shoulder, leaving a shiver to traven down your spine.

“Awh, does mommy like being fucked like a whore?” Her thrusts started hard, giving you barely any time to get used to her size. It made you whimper seeing her have no mercy, yanking your hair back and making you rest your head in the nape of her neck. Her lips sloppily connected with yours, her tongue playing with your own as she could taste the alcohol on your breath, she knew hers was the same.

She suddenly disconnected herself from you, pushing you to lay flat on the bed as she got on top of you, straddling your back thighs and thrusting herself back into you. The strap rubbed delightfully against her clit and had you yearning for more. The camera that was sat close to you on the pillow was suddenly pulled into her grasp. She aimed it to your face, resting hers next to you and getting the perfect shot of the mascara running down your face along with the beads of sweat dripping down her chin. The lack of AC wasn’t helping her overheating problem, but it only made the sex that much hotter.

“Ah! Kate, I-” She didn’t let you finish before she was speaking, overrulling your voice with her own.

“Does Steve fuck you like this? Can his tiny dick ever come close to mine?” You shook your head quickly, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bed sheets with all of your might.

“My little whore, you are. You think you could ever be a mommy, hm? I don’t think mommy’s get tied up and fucked by their little girls, you agree?” Her harsh words were turning you on more than you’d like to admit, and she noticed. She could feel the wetness seeping onto your thighs.

“Oh, you disgusting little bitch. You fucking disgust me, Y/N.” She tugged on your hair once more, pulling your face back so she could whisper into your ear. Her mouth enclosed on your earlobe and your legs shook from her statement alone.

“You’re gonna cum already? Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t ‘ya!” Your orgasm was shortlived as she was already trying to pull another one out of you. You were gasping for air, only for your mouth to be filled by her fingers. Her nails were painted black and her rings were still on.

“You’re so fucking annoying with those pathetic whines, you think anyone’s gonna want to hear that shit? You’re lucky I’m even touching you right now, you dirty slut, I could be fucking anyone else but instead I’m listening to your whining.” Your hips were nearly bruising with her harsh pace, but that wasn’t stopping her.

“We’re not stopping until I’ve had my fill, baby girl.” If she had enough money, she would’ve bought a cum-filled strap-on so she could watch it pool out of you. The thought alone was what tipped her over the edge and caused you to release once again. You both came together, her free arm holding your body close to hers in order to feel you. Her lipstick was spread across different areas of your body and now smudged on her mouth. Your makeup was ruined and painted down your face. The marks that you had previously asked Kate not to give you were shining in the dim light of her room, and without even seeing them, you knew they were bad.

“Thank you for coming over, baby.” She undid you handcuffs after pulling out of you, tossing the toys at the end of the bed and pulling you into her, kissing you hard with no room to dissapoint.

“Mommy, huh?”

“It was the heat of the moment.” You both chuckled, your foreheads still resting together as she laid you down. You were both too tired for aftercare, but she promised you she’d do it in the morning. But you hesitated.

“You’re staying the night..right?” You sighed and refused to make eye contact with her, knowing that if you saw the hopefulness on her face it would only make it harder to deny her. But you made the mistake of looking, noticing the growing pout on her lips that made it impossible to resist her.

“I’ll call Steve, tell him I had some work business and was too tired to come home and am staying at Wanda’s.” She smiled, bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile, and hugged you tightly in fear of waking up with you gone. You knew you were in deep shit if you continued this, but you had always told your clients that there were times they’d have to put themsleves first, and this was one of them.

:))

[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Send help. Send a therapist I don’t know I just need some form of mental health assistance.

Relationships: Typhus/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW (god save me), Disgusting Nurgle stuff, Fingering, Like 72 degrees of unsafe sex, Implied sex pollen/aphrodisiac, Noncon, Stockholm syndrome, Tentacles,

It’s a massive room, at one point it might have been a cathedral; To Mortarion, to the Emperor, or who else else the Death Guard worshiped before falling to Nurgle. Slime leaks from the walls and rusts away at the metal, eating holes in piping and supports alike. Tentacles, spores and other types of biomass litter it, with little botflies fluttering about. What they're doing you don't know, but they catch your eye every now and again.

It's not as if you can do much else. He's taken your hope, your energy, your home.

In the center of all this rot and decay is your place; A flowerbed of sickly blossoms and blooms, moss and mushrooms all infected by Nurgle.

A beautiful flowerbed for his own little Isha, Calas had said. Though he’s no longer Calas, is he? Typhon has become Typhus, and you've become prisoner.

You now lay on your bed of rotten blooms, picking at flower petals. You can’t escape him- even if you escaped this massive rotten cathedral, where would you go? This ship is his, and you’re deep in what is now heretic space.

He won’t let you die; He won’t let you leave. Bare skin lays against the sticky moss, spores brushing against you.

He’d taken your clothes after the last time, other than the thin cloth that serves as a near useless, dress. You suppose he finds a sort of elegance to it- a maiden in white amidst a pit of disgust. Another parallel to Isha. He's been meticulous in recreating it all so he has his own glimmer of light betwixt a defiled cathedral and a ship of the most putrid diseases.

You can only lay hopeless, displayed on your flowerbed underneath corruption forming a mockery of trees with budded flowers, rotten petals falling to the floor. Typhus’ own altar to whatever desires he has in his head.

Suddenly movement causes you to raise upward, restoring your sanity and consciousness. You’ve never heard even close to this much noise before, not even when the Death Guard were forming up to invade a poor, hopeless planet.

“In here!”

You turn your head to the massive cathedral doors, watching them shake before giving way and pushing apart with loud creaking. Your heart pounds in your chest with more hope than you’ve ever had before, at the sight.

It’s Astartes! A squad of them. You don’t know where they’re from or what they’re doing here, but they’re here to save you from this. Save you from him. To finally either pull you from this rotten ship or kill you here, and finally end this state of undeath Typhus has you lingering in.

One of the Astartes comes closer and reaches for you, and you weakly reach out a hand for him. You try to touch it, but you don’t make contact; it’s like your hand nearly falls through.

“What happened?”

He says, and you wish you had the ability to explain. How Calas has changed, the ship becoming nothing more than a vessel of disgust and disease.

“Help me,” You weakly say, but it feels like you’re trying to speak underwater.

Where did the other Astartes disappear to?

The marine’s armored hand reaches down to grasp your bare arm, and you think you hear him say your name. But how would he know it?

He says it again, and again…

And then your body jolts, legs straightening as your eyes open. Your lips part as you gasp, taking in so deep a breath you almost choke on the air.

“There you are, my girl.”

The man once called Calas looks over you while on his knee, the grill of his helmet hiding what is left of his face.

You’ve seen it; How the Nurgle infection has eaten away at his skin, changing was left to sickly yellow, green and purple. His armor seems entangled with his flesh, becoming one and the same. His appearance horrifies you, and makes you yearn for what once was.

“Were you having a nightmare?”

His rusted gauntlet scrapes across your skin, nicking your cheek. You try to avoid shivering, hands pressing against the ground below you.

It wasn’t a nightmare, it was the brightest glimpse of hope you had since Typhus doomed all of the Death Guard, and it was little more than your imagination.

“My sweet girl, you were asking for help.”

His hand drifts from your face, you wonder why it smells sweet, down your neck then the rest of your body and you whimper, trying to move away from him. His armor feels warm like it's almost alive, and perhaps it is- they're one and the same now.

His massive gauntlet slips between your legs, armored fingers diving between your folds as you writhe and attempt to pull away from him.

“I can grant your every desire much like grandfather does with Isha, you only need to let me in.”

He already is in; You feel his rusted gauntlet prod at your entrance. Your whimper and push at him, in some futile attempt to escape.

“Stop, please stop,”

Calas- Typhus, forces his armor finger into you and feels the way you tighten, pressing your hips down into the mossy flowerbed. Tears prick your eyes as you feel him sink into you deep, cold armor pressing against your cunt.

“You don’t want me to stop; I can smell you. The honey you’re making.”

You want him to stop, you want your skin to stop buzzing and heating up, as you feel your body begin to betray you. The flowers, the spores, Typhus himself, you don't know what he does that makes you lose control over yourself, but you hate every moment of it. It makes tears roll down your cheeks as your stomach tightens in knots over the feeling of his now two fingers deep inside of you, the palm of his gauntlet pushing against your clit.

“Please…. Stop…”

You try to turn away from him but his other hand grasps your jaw, turning you right back. Your body feels so hot, you can feel the brushing of little tentacles across your inner thighs, your breasts, your neck. Whether they’re from him or the flowerbed you don’t know, but they only serve to spark trails of fire as your body heats up like a furnace.

Typhus removes his hand from your cunt to push your thighs wider apart, the bottoms of your feet almost touching. They stay fallen apart, and your hands reach down to grasp at his decayed gauntlet as he pushes his fingers back into you.

Just finish, give him what he wants and then he'll leave. Ignore how good he makes you feel.

He hears you let out a whimper, finally broken. He laughs, the fingers of his other hand stroking your cheek.

“Good girl, just let me gift you all that you desire.”

You can hear the wet squelches of your own cunt as you leak over his rusted, decayed armor, weeping for more without your permission. You can hear in the back of your mind the no no no no no, but it's so chained by whatever sweet scent had filled your nostrils that you can't touch it.

You just want to be filled, by anything.

Your thoughts become your own for a moment as you feel how much you hate when he does this; It’s like your body and mind detach and you can no longer control yourself.

Your hands grasp his gauntlet tighter and try to pull him closer, arch closer to him, begging for more. The disgust of mushrooms and slime and rotten petals falling on your skin fades as he fills your mind with nothing but forced desire for him.

“It took Isha many years to realize Grandfather was her savior,” He pulls his fingers from your tight heat to tease your clit and make you gasp, before sinking them into you again. Your hips jerk upwards, tears in your eyes from how much you want this and how much you don’t want this. “And now you see, as well.”

You feel the tickle of flies landing on your skin, it makes you want to vomit. They always hover around him like he has a gravitational pull.

You cum against his hand as he thrusts his armored fingers deep into you, crying out with a voice now hoarse from your whimpers and cries. He hums pleased behind his helm, as you lay limp in front of him. Your inner thighs are slick, and you feel something tickle against them that isn't his hand.

He pulls his soaked hand from between your thighs, putting it on your stomach as his other hand slips underneath your shoulderblades. He raises you slightly up off the flowerbed removing his hand from your stomach to take off his helmet.

You want to look away, to preserve the memory of Calas. But he’s gone, rotted away. You feel his hand cup your jaw to force you to look at him, your lips brushing against his dried, rotten mouth.

His hand returns to your stomach again.

“My beautiful little flower in her beautiful little garden; Begging to be pollinated.” You feel your mind returning from its foggy state and you weakly kick your legs wanting to get away.

“You are in bloom, my beautiful little flower. I can’t wait to make so many more.”

[kenshiluvr]

Heeeey could I ask for Kenshi with an reader where on a mission reader gets badly injured please?

aaa of course!! i love writing hurt/comfort :3

shooting star

kenshi takahashi/reader

summary: you get injured protecting him.

tags: major injuries, both reader and kenshi are protective of each other, they’re in love your honour, angst, hurt/comfort, good bf! kenshi, stargazing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Haha, very funny.” Kenshi chuckles sarcastically after you made another bad joke. You’d been reading them to him for a whole hour, because you want to learn how to ‘out-dad-joke’ Johnny, even if neither of you had kids. You giggle, lay on his chest, scrolling through your phone. “How about this one. Two fish are in a tank. One of them turns to the other and says: ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You giggle softly at the ridiculousness of the joke. “Little bit of army humour.” You muse, listening to Kenshi hum briefly. “Very little.” He notes, listening to your soft laugh.

Kenshi runs his fingers over your back, rubbing up and down gently. “Baby… surely we’ve gone through enough jokes by now.” He chuckles, shaking his head with amusement. “Aww, c’mon… just a few more?” You look from your phone to his, letting him kiss the bridge of your nose. “Nope. I’m not letting this continue. Unlike you, I cherish my sanity.” Kenshi laughs, carefully taking your phone from you. “Fine, fine. Spoilsport.” You shake your head, laughing a little. You and Kenshi had been dating for a little over a year now, always sticking together, everywhere he went you followed… even with his troubled past.

Kenshi appreciates you, and your bad jokes, you bring a light to his days that he was struggling to find. With the gruelling task of bringing his family’s name out of the Yakuza, of tracking down Sento… he felt any sense of normalcy slipping through his fingers like sand… but you kept him sane. You made him feel loved. “Get some sleep. I’m sure Johnny can listen to your jokes tomorrow.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Alright, alright.” You smile, stealing a quick kiss.

-

Trudging through harsh conditions, you follow Kenshi as he leads the way, being guided by the item that Liu Kang had given him to help find Shang Tsung. “Do you think we’re getting close?” You ask softly, glancing at the little compass in his palm. “I believe so…” Kenshi murmurs, glancing down at it as well. “Good… I think someone’s getting restless.” You chuckle softly, glancing back at Johnny, who had been whining the whole time. Kenshi hums softly, continuing on the path the compass was guiding him on.

Finally, you all arrive at a ledge, overlooking a grizzly fight between a group of human people and Tarkatan people. “What’s going on here..?” you murmur, brows furrowing. Kenshi hums, uncertain as well. Spotting Shang Tsung, you nudge your boyfriend, pointing the man out. Shang Tsung has a Tarkatan brought over, plunging a needle into his neck, drawing bone marrow. You grimace at the sight, turning away briefly. “This is… disgusting…” you murmur, eyes moving back to see the Tarkatan break free of his restraints, ready to harm the man your group had been searching for. “Come on. We can’t let him get killed.” Kenshi doesn’t hesitate, moving down to help. “Ken, wait-“ your eyes widen, scrambling to follow.

With a scrambled fight, you, Johnny and Kung Lao manage to disperse a few Tarkatans and humans alike, with you focusing on helping the imprisoned Tarkatans out of their shackles, giving them their freedom to escape this cruelty. Most give you wary looks, but a few nod thankfully and leave. Turning around, you see Kenshi in a strong fight with the Tarkatan that Shang Tsung had recently drawn bone marrow from, immediately moving over to try and help. Kung Lao grasps your arm, stopping you from jumping in, not wanting you to get harmed. “He can handle this.” He tells you calmly, bringing you back a little. “But-“ you glance from your friend to your boyfriend, eyes full of worry. “Relax. Kenshi’s a strong fighter.”

Sighing, you focus on finding out where Shang Tsung had escaped to. A pained grunt catches your attention, and your gaze immediately snaps back to Kenshi. “Ken!” breaking free from Kung Lao’s grasp, you run to his side. The Tarkatan he’s fighting scowls at the sight of you, drawing his Tarkatan blade from his forearm. You steel yourself, more focused on Kenshi’s safety than your own. With a hard slash, the blade slices into your side as if you’re made of paper. Kenshi’s breath hitches, watching the blood spill. Your name utters from his lips as he grasps you tight, feeling you crumple onto him. Johnny jumps in, finishing the fight for the two of you as Kenshi sits up, holding you tight to his body. “Baby… shh-shhh… i’ve got you.” Your boyfriend stresses, hand pressing to your deep wound. “What the hell were you thinking?!” Kenshi scolds, eyes full of worry as he holds you tight.

“Sorry- I-I didn’t think.” You chuckle weakly, resting your head to his shoulder. You feel dizzy, a lot of blood pouring from your wound. “C’mon, doll… stay with me.” He whispers, grimacing as your blood covers his tattooed hands. “Mhh… m’sorry.” You mutter, slumped to him. “Shh… it’s okay. Save your strength.” Kenshi’s other hand strokes your back, trying to keep you awake. “Stay with me baby,” he murmurs, voice cracking a little. “I need you.” Kenshi stresses, squeezing you close. If he lost you… he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

-

“Hey…” a soft voice whispers to you, two warm palms grasping one of yours gently as you stir awake. A pained groan leaves your lips, sighing softly. “Kenshi?” You mutter, blinking blearily. “Shhh… I’m here.” Your boyfriend moves one of his hands, pressing his knuckles to your forehead. “I thought I lost you. You fainted right there, in my arms…” Kenshi whispers, leaning down to gently kiss your cheek. “Scared me, baby…” he mutters, closing his eyes as his head rests against yours. “Sorry…” you whisper, voice hoarse, fingers weakly squeezing his.

“Don’t apologise. If it weren’t for you, I probably would of been killed by that Tarkatan.” He sighs, squeezing your hand in return. You hum weakly, leaning her head to his. “How long has it been?” You mumble, noting that you’re both back at the Wu Shi academy. “Shang Tsung, is he-“ you go to sit up, but your boyfriend eases you back down onto the bed. “Shh. Don’t push yourself. It’s been dealt with.” Kenshi murmurs, stroking your cheek gently. You sigh softly through your nose, closing your eyes in pain.

“Do you need anything?” Kenshi asks softly. “Painkillers… please..?” you whisper, fingers moving up to grasp his. “Of course.” Standing up, he kisses your fingers briefly before gently putting your hand down onto the bed for you. “I’ll be right back.” Kenshi assures you, stepping out of the room. He rushes right back, pills and water in hand, carefully sitting beside you on the bed. “Here, sweetheart.” Kenshi murmurs, helping you take the painkillers; he even feeds you the water, not wanting you to strain yourself.

“Thank you,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his. With a soft sigh, you press your head to his thigh. “Ken, baby… can we go outside? I wanna get some fresh air.” You mumble, looking up at him. Kenshi smiles softly. “Of course, sunshine.” He responds, stroking your cheek lovingly. Helping you up out of bed, he’s careful of the stitches on your side, supporting you as you walk. “Nice and slow… just take it easy.” He murmurs, holding your hands gently as he helps you outside.

Finding a bench, he sits you down carefully to give your side a rest, sitting beside you. It’s late, stars out overhead. Leaning to his side, you feel Kenshi’s arm circle around your waist. “Better?” He mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you rest on his shoulder. “Yeah…” you smile, eyes turning up to watch the stars that dot the inky, dark sky. Spotting a shooting star, you nudge your boyfriend, pointing it out. “Hm. Would you look at that?” Kenshi muses, smiling a little. “Did you make a wish?” He asks, looking back at you. “Yeah. But I can’t tell you now, can I? Or it won’t come true,” you giggle softly, watching it disappear from sight. “Aw, c’mon… you can trust me with that secret.” Kenshi teases, laughing softly. “Mhm. Well, I guess I can tell you.” You respond, smiling softly. “I wished that, no matter what, we stay together.” You admit. Kenshi feels his heart flutter. “Baby, you don’t even have to wish for that.” Kenshi tells you, kissing your temple lovingly. “It’s already true. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles, pulling you a little closer.

[adoregojo]

1967 ➡︎ isagi.y x reader

IM ALIVE!! YAHOOOOO!! btw i have an exam in a few hours, and here where my sudden passion for writing comes back. anyone enjoy this isagi x reader fic here. btw readers gender is unmentioned.

something was always missing from isagi yoichi's life.

the symbolizes dull blue man remains in his place, examining the disgustingly rich guests passing him with the priceless cologne reeking to his lungs and everywhere making it impossible to ignore and trying to not block his nose holes was a challenge itself.

it was in the fact that he didn't want to be here, the urge to isolate himself eventually loses against his duty. being a man, a soldier who was protecting nothing but the greediest class poor excuse of a human beings.

Isagi would've like to say he was one of hundreds who excepted this job, but he wasn't unfortunately. more like he was pushed into it so his so called comrades could take a free ride out of their job.

he let out a breath, it was just to guard the gate until the show ends, right? he'll just go with the flow for now. like he always does.

half of the shows were ridiculous if you ask him, what was so funny about a man beaming his loathing into dark jokes, isagi could never get the rich humor, not like he ever wanted to. he was sure half of these laughs were focused on and he couldn't find it in himself to even spare a smile.

the other display was a musical performance, a tribute by a group of people spreading imitation melody his ears were abhorrent by. this song was so dusty he couldn't believe that some actually clapped for that. affluent were easy to impress, he guessed.

and for the end and final play was about to begin, and finally he'll be done with this crap and leave this stump of a place. go to the bar and have a drink or two will do that,,

there he could see a somone who was he could guess in is age on the stag peeking nervously behind the curtain, clung to it for your dear life. he couldn't get a good picture out of you nor your face before the show started,,

#1

you took a deep breath in and out, something you do every time to keep yourself at bare minimum of sanity. peeping through wouldn't hurt, but it hits so hard how countless of people were there caused you sudden stomach aches.

the worst part that all of them came out obviously disinterested! not even paring down a glance to the stag you were gonna stand up at in the next six minutes. you were in you twenties and feeling this anxious should've been in the past, well guess old habits die hard.

you told yourself that your were here to give off a show that non of these cheap moneybags that'll never escape one's mind.

even if you felt your soul leaving your body as you step out to everyone's eyes judging from your body to your face and appearance whole, fighting the urge to melt out of humiliation was strong yet you were far capable.

it was now or never.

a dose of confidence washed over you as the music played, it was meant to be a soothing melody that made the audience feel the pure emotion out of every movement you made.

this was your life, to dance. not for others, but for yourself. humans were nothing but just the witnesses to your purpose of existence. this is where you felt alive, closing your eyes to the endless void that grasped you tightly than any other creature could.

guiding the tips of your feet in it meant placement of the dance, where the gravity is losing against you and floating was viable. where no one could tell you what to do with the occult place you rot into.

let them see since that'll be the only thing they can do.

#2

this wasn't like anything isagi saw.

it was not about the music, the audience, it was about the person who managed to take his heart and soul to their performances. every movement made his heart swirling in endless fondness.

he couldn't take his overset eyes off, he couldn't find it in his heart to even blink 'cause if he did so he'll miss it and it'll end before he knows. the depths of his obscure soul felt pure something you only feel when you watch people on the big screen yet it lifted your heart to it.

isagi's mind doesn't process the fact that the melody was long gone and echoing sounds of clapping and cheering were unheard, this is where the world, the universe itself were at a halt.

you raised up from your bowed state. something called, it was begging you to turn around and spare it a glance. and you did unintentionally, there you were meet by the most beautiful set of an eyes adoring you ceaselessly.

you were sweaty and definitely had a few flying out of place locks, but that man tenderly gaze embracing you says otherwise. out of all those people, out of them all he outshined them.

yet the locked eye contact doesn't last, it had to end before you had any chance to talk to him. to even approach him before being dragged out.

#2

well, isagi did end up at the bar he wanted to be in. and it didn't feel this empty before. caressing the glass of hallway wine with his thumb, until he sees his sad reflection on then persuades to hide his face in his arm's elbow. he looked like an old man grieving over his youth. and most of all he felt hopeless.

isagi was mostly selfless, putting others needs over his. but this one time he felt like this is what he needed the most, what his heart yearns for and you were taken away from him in a brief second.

maybe if he wasn't so damn busy memorized he would've managed to move his legs instead of rotting in his place while watching you go.

and what the worst of this all was the so little chance of meeting you again was making him go insane! and above all you were gifted and so, so dazzling and isagi was just.. him. a guy that was way beyond where you stood, just watching you should be a blessing itself.

but that wasn't it, this feeling of deep despair all he wanted was to run back to the stage and look for you. this weirdly strange passionate about someone he just saw was foreign.

all this thinking was making him a madman, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"need a company? looking a bit lonely."

a bit taken aback, isagi's shifted towards the voice. oh, oh. oh fuck, it was you.

he could faint right here and now.

#1

you could faint right here and now.

shit- you couldn't get a grip on approaching the guy, the same guy that you kept thinking about all day living in your head rent free. you were real smooth with your words, weren't?

to be surprise, the man was quite popular. being one of the famous men in his squad, and basically a man of a noble while you were just you, a dancer who travels around the world to achieve your dream.

you figured his name was isagi, isagi yoichi. you burned that name over your head. trying not to call him by his name, to try it out sliding down your mouth. but he would definitely see you as a creep, especially for looking around asking about him.

meeting him again had to be a miracle itself, at first you didn't even want to take a step towards his path. but seeing his drink his sadness away, and deep down you felt if you don't take a step he'll float away forever.

and now he was was sitting there while staring at you aimlessly, did you say something? a bit seconds before he finally spoke. "oh- yeah, i mean sure if y'know, you wanted to. no pressure." isagi stuttered.

you sent him a pleasant smile before taking a seat beside him, as you asked for a cocktail. the heavy feelings of the isagi's eyes pouring on you like he could believe you were actually there. you were glad that the man wasn't drunk yet.

"drinking a lot tonight, huh?" you said, dragging him back out of whatever dreamy place he was in. just then he quickly fixed his posture, it was cute, you thought. he looked like a dork as he cleared his throat.

"i think this is my last one." isagi says, pushing away the glass to get potty over you instead. "um, your performance. it was.. amazing."

"glad you like it, you also did a good job in guarding me." you laughed a bit, it a nervous one since this man words held so much more of a meaning in them you just couldn't handle such words as a little of red creeped into your cheeks.

"psh, it was nothing worth mentioning. i was just standing there while you were, just so breathtaking."

"really?"

"really, really. I couldn't stop staring." isagi cooed, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. his eyes remained away from you as he said these words, he really hoped they sounded genuine as he felt and not come out as a creep. to his surprise he heard you chuckling, and if it wasn't the loveliest thing his ears are hearing.

"you're just so charming aren't you, isagi?" you didn't even realise the name slipping out, it felt so natural like you were the innate one to chime it.

isagi eyes widen, your rhythmical voice flow which captivate his emphasis of a soul over you. this spark swirling around his entrails making his breaths at halt. when did he become such a nervous wreck? yesterday it was isagi history of spurning the slightest hints of getting in a relationship, due for him finding it difficult to let his feelings flow freely. and the missing flicker was now found by someone who spoke his name once, and he couldn't find his heart to stop pounding so rapidly.

"you know my name?" he somehow managed to let out despite the regarding fact the air ran out from his lungs, yet it came out breathlessly.

you rolled your eyes playfully, "you're kind of popular around here so it wasn't so difficult to find out." said you, twirling the straw of your decayed cocktail, you glance back to see the man huffing a small laugh. he utterly and completely handsome with that carefree smile that you felt like a teenager girl with her silly crush.

"and it's, yn. if you were interested." you added.

if he was interested? like hell he is, the man was down on his knees if that meant getting to know you. fuck, he was so interested that he could drain his soul for you to tell him everything you please. but truthfully, putting a name to such a pretty face felt like a piece of puzzle was getting connected to it perfect place.

"interested? i am honoured i must say, miss yn." isagi had no idea he had this kind of sappy side within him, especially when he made you giggle coyly, and all he can feel is his heart racing. what was he? a teenage boy going all giddy with his crush? he blamed you for making him feel this young again, and damn if it didn't feel good to feel this bloom once again.

and before you even realise it, it was time to end this bright moment. peeking at the clock, you had another show tomorrow and it hits you like a rock. isagi had his own magic to make time go by the blue. standing up slowly you faced the face of a confused man, "i must take my leave. i have a show tomorrow night, and it was lovely talking to you isagi yoichi."

part of you felt dumb, the man was probably just lonely and he'll soon forget about by the day. as much as loving you felt next to him, you were no mind reader to see how he truly felt. you wished you weren't so bad with these things, especially when the wave was telling you that the man ahead of you was a man of a name. how could all your confidence wash away with a small tear of thought.

you could feel the disappointment taking over the soldier's face, as if his face was begging you to stay longer even for a brief second. you were gonna give in, but honestly, would he have approached you if the roles were reversed?

you didn't even let the man finish his sentence before walking fast out of the bar, suddenly the air was suffocating and you took a deep breath. and here it was again, the black void sky hinted by the stars with the moon outshining it. a wave of air hits you making you shrivel, perhaps it was the cold, perhaps it was the shallow you felt.

you wished would turn around and see him, running after you. but what did you expect from this, were your standards truly that high? you were a traveler, you shouldn't connect your heart with anyone's. soon you'll be leaving and be left heartbroken just like every other person did.

what now? you were just standing in the middle of a bar, cold and shivering. that was stupid, you should just go home and get drunk to sleep.

"wait! lady yn!"

you falter at the voice of isagi, did he actually came? were you imagining this? turning around, and in fact you weren't imagining a thing. it was actually isagi huffing and puffing for air, he actually ran all the way here, he ran after you. with his hands on his knees. a last breath before he met your eyes, and all you could think was how his eyes could take over the sky itself.

for a while he just stood there awkwardly, like he doesn't even know why he ran here. before he took off his black coat, taking a hesitation steps towards you. gently warping it around your body, the man handled you so steadily like a you were made of glass he could break by any wrong move.

you grip on the warm fabric, it was slightly bigger than you and so, so balmy. it felt like a hug. you glance back at the man who was staring instantly at you, you felt hot under his strange gaze, like he was eating you whole. you couldn't help but shrinking yourself. quickly he jolted back to his usual self, coughing there and there trying to hide his embarrassment.

"it's cold outside, take this to keep you warm." said isagi, avoiding your face with all costs. you nodded your head. trying to calm your raging heart.

you watch as isagi take a final breath, like he finally decided to what to say next. "um, if you like. i could be your guardian at your next show. whatever it is, I'll be there by your side." he spoke firmly, this time he stood bravely. like a boy confessing his feelings.

you don't know why but you found yourself laughing, laughing so hard you had to cover your mouth. this is what you wished for, the one you waited to follow you whatever you go is standing right in there. a one that'll held on to you for the everlasting. your wish to perform with your most loved one by your side was no longer a beyond reach dream but a meant destiny.

"you have to take me out to dinner first, mister isagi yoichi."

you see as a beam draw it way to isagi's face, you spoke the words he couldn't. he took your hand in his gloved once, it was a perception fit, the missing piece of puzzle, pressing his lips lovingly against your cold knuckles, "only if you wouldn't run away this time, miss yn ln." he chuckled.

and here where your life was completed

have a nice day everyone! wish me luck for my exam ;)

[kanekisfavoritegf]

I Just Want to Please You

Jonathan Joestar - The actual love of my life

Warnings: oral, overstimulation, bondage, soft dom, dacryphilia, breeding, ab riding, cream pie, pussy drunk Jonathan lots of things..

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI you will be blocked!🩷

the more i look at this the more i hate it LMFAO

@sailewhoremoon @neptunes1nterweb

Jonathan loves you passionately, sometimes too passionately. This had been your fifth orgasm of the night and your husband, Jonathan, showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

It was exhausting sometimes. The way he’d switch you from position to position. While you were too weak from your orgasm to move or say slow down. Each night, he’d have you go dumb, and each night, you’d let him. Because no matter how much he asked of you, you loved him just as much as he loved you. And what better way to show that love than letting him use you like a rag doll?

That's how you ended up in the position you were in now. Staring up at the ceiling and grasping onto the sheets below you. Your legs, pulled apart, held by the sheer strength of your husband.

The sound of your moans and his constant licking and sucking at your bud drove you wild. Every once in a while, you would hear Jonathan let out a deep moan, causing you to look up and stare as he humped the bed while pleasuring you.

It was a pornographic sight, truly.

But you couldn’t handle it at all.

“Jonathan please, too much-” You threw your head back and started to moan uncontrollably. You raised your hand to try and pry his head away from your clit, but your previous orgasms had made you weak against the man. To your luck, Jonathan stopped, sighing a little before kissing the top of your head, before moving his kisses to your neck, giving small bites here and there. You were too distracted by his sweet but sudden actions that you didn’t even realize that Jonathan had taken off his tie and begun wrapping your arms within the fabric.

“Jonathan?” you’d whisper out to him.

“Sh, it’s ok, my love. I just need you to be patient, yeah? You can do this for me, right, my love?” You nodded yes while a small line of drool began rolling down your chin. “That’s right. You are so perfect. I just want to please you. My perfect wife.” He’d say as he checked to make sure your hands were tied to the bedpost.

And before you could even process it, Jonathan was back at your cunt, using his fingers and tongue both to bring you to your climax. Over and over, his fingers would work into you, and He pepper kisses along your stretch marks. All you could do was lay there and take it. Unable to move or squeeze your legs shut from the stimulation. You felt your sanity slowly slip away. Only the sounds of your whimpers could be heard now. He had pulled another three more orgasms out of you after you had been tied up. This continued for another thirty minutes. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You could feel Jonathan letting up as you slowly came down from the third.

But you knew this wasn’t the end. You watched in awe as your husband stripped the rest of his clothes, throwing them on the floor without care, before slowly crawling to you on all fours. He looked like some kind of sex God, coming to claim you as his. You watched as his dick slapped against his stomach a little as he got closer. You were speechless but so ready for him.

Slowly he brought his mouth to your neck once again. Moaning into your skin as he felt his dick press against your stomach.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you.” He chuckled after he mumbled those words into your skin.

You tried to reach out and touch him, but you were stopped instantly by the tie that bound you to the wooden frame. Jonathan took his time as he kissed all the way down to your womb before he spoke again.

“Are you going to let me fill you up?” He said with a kind face. It had you baffled. The way these deboutrous words were able to leave such a sweet mouth. You were jolted out of your thoughts when Jonathan pinched your clit, eyes begging for your attention. “I asked you a question, my love.”

“Yes, please.”

“Please, what?” he’d ask as if he didn’t know.

“Please fill me up.” He grinned at your words. and instead of answering, you felt him plunge into you. Causing the two of you to moan out in pleasure.

Jonathan stood on his knees, his right arm hooked around your leg, holding it above his waist, and his left hand placed right above your womb. You were so overwhelmed by his touch that his skin felt searing hot against yours, as if he were on fire.

As he began thrusting into you, Jonathan’s hand never left your lower stomach. He wanted to feel the bulge that would come and go as he plunged inside of you. And all you could do was moan and whine.

“Oh my God, Jonathan. Fuck.” You’d pant out, eyes rolling to the back of your head a little each time he hit that spot.

“Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good, my love?” He’d ask with furrowed eyebrows and a small hint of sweat now growing on his left brow.

“So good so so goo-” Your words were cut off when you let out a sudden and loud moan; caused by Jonathan pushing your legs to your chest. He was going deeper and harder than before, letting out loud, sultry moans that had you seeing heaven.

Everything was happening so fast that you didn’t even realize how close you were until you were gushing on his dick. You swear you could have seen the stars. And even though you have just climaxed, your husband kept plowing into you like a madman. The slapping sound of your colliding flesh filled your ears, along with the sound of Jonathan’s dick sliding in and out of your sopping cunt.

“So tight,m-love.” He’d slur and repeat with a hoarse voice. Your eyesight was now blurry, clouded by tears of overstimulation. It was too much to handle.

Soon you could hear another sound start to overpower that of the two of your moans. The bed shaking from the power of your husband's thrusts had become erratic. Jonathan was practically using your body as a personal cock sleeve, fucking you into oblivion.

Suddenly, Jonathan’s hands dropped your legs, causing them to fall onto the soft sheets below them. After he pulled out of you, Jonathan found himself flipping your body over onto your stomach. Making you let out a soft whimper, but before you could say anything, Jonathan raised your ass to his front.

He gave you a few teasing prods in and out of your whole, only allowing his tip to enter you. Before once again pushing into you. Letting out the most whore like moan a man could make.

“You feel so good, baby.” He says in your ear, before nipping at it a little.

The tie felt tighter now that it was twisted from your body being flipped. You knew that there would be a dent from where your hands were tied. You did your best to hold up the rest of your body, but you were so weak from your multiple orgasms Jonathan ended up doing most of the work, making sure to hold you in your place.

Not that he cared though; Jonathan loved doing the work to make you cum. It made him feel good to know he was making you feel good.

You could feel the way he stretched you out more and more each time he pushed back into you. The bed frame had switched out the sound of constant creaking to a much louder march harder sound as it began to hit the wall behind it with each thrust.

It felt like he was trying to break you in half. You knew Jonathan was stronger than the average human, but God, the way he laid into your cunt had you shuddering on his dick.

With each thrust, the tie became looser and looser until it was no longer wrapped around your wrists. Your constant tugging at the fabric from the rough thrusts had caused it to slowly come undone.

The constant clenching around Jonathan’s length had finally begun to take a toll on him. You could feel it with the sloppiness of his thrusts and the growing sounds of his grunts.

One of the hands that gripped your waist as he rocked into you was now working at your clit. You couldn’t even moan anymore; words and sounds that tried to leave your mouth fell silent at your lips.

“Cum with me again.” He’d whisper in your neck as he bent over you. His pace faltering a little bit. “Please?” He’d whimper.

But before you could let out a moan of “yes”, a dramatic snapping filled your ears, and you felt Jonathan’s thrusts stop. It wasn’t until Jonathan pulled out of you, laughing a little bit, did you realize you were laying at an angle now, your bodies, closer to the ground than usual.

He broke the bed.

The two of you had broken the bed.

Instead of stopping and collecting himself as a normal person would, Jonathan tugged on your body once more, carrying you and pushing you against a wall.

“Jonathan, the bed.” You moaned out, feeling him enter you again.

“I know love, it was weak.” he sighed, “It’s okay, we don’t need it.” And with that, he began moving into you again.

“Give me one more. Ok my love? You can do it for me right?” He panted out.

“That’s my good girl.” He’d say before losing himself in the pleasure.

You were officially cockdrunk as Jonathan finally came inside you. Ropes of thick, hot, creamy cum painted your walls. Your husband let out a series of moans. Holding you up at the wall as he calmed down.

He maneuvered your body to the floor delicately, kissing your cheeks and lips over and over with his now swollen lips.

You were tired beyond belief. You couldn’t even let out a sound of protest as he moved his face to your cunt, watching as his cum dripped out of you slowly before deciding to clean out all of the remaining cum... with his tongue. It felt so obscene watching him eat his cum out of you as if he was a starved man.

And once he had pulled away from you, satisfied with his job, he rolled your naked body onto his stomach, rocking you back and forth over his abs. The pressure you felt on your clit each time he moved over one of his abs had you gone. Your body was practically lifeless as he sat up, making you straddle him fully.

“You did such a good job for me my love. Such a good job.” He peppered kissed on your forehead as his hand cupped your head softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whimpered back.

“We need a new bed.”

[enviedear]

this is an anakin request because i’m hyper fixating over him coming back in ashoka (spoiler alert)!

i was wondering if you would be down to write a fic based around friends to lovers. but like there is a whole admission thing brought on by jealousy.

backstory: reader & anakin trained together under obi-wan in the jedi temple, growing close as friends. but then he sees padme again and falls in love, when the reader is already in love with him. and when he says he’s gonna marry padme, reader looses it and admits their feelings.

i’m sorry this is so long & so specific but it’s been rotting in my brain

ily x

this ask really spoke to me as a certified jealous girl

okay so i'm not sure if this is perfect but i had a vision and went with it, so i hope you like it <3 this is angsty, so warnings for that. and also warning that reader is a jealous jealous jealous girl.

wc— 0.8k |tw— anger, jealousy, running away from your problems, unresolved ending, delulu reader <3

aggravation flares throughout the entirety of your being at the sight before you. anakin, your anakin, with his arms around Senator amidala.

he had mentioned her, far more than any normal amount, in the days leading up to seeing her again. and it wasn't such a bother at first.

you'd laugh off his worried nature at the idea of her presence. you'd ignore how loud his thoughts were whenever she was brought up. you had thought it nothing more than a crush, an interest, an idea.

he didn't even know her. not like you knew him.

and yet, here they were in a passionate embrace, completely immersed in each other and oblivious to your presence.

you clear your throat and watch them stumble away from eachother. anakin's eyes slowly meet yours for a split second and before he has the chance to explain himself, you're darting away.

fury. that's what you feel. seeing him cling onto her in the way you've ached desperately for him to want you, is torturous. you can't decide who deserves more of your wrath— yourself, for being foolishly devoted to a fellow jedi, or anakin, for not comprehending your obvious feelings.

as you run, you can feel him trailing you, can hear him calling out for you— but you continue to run. trying to find anywhere to hide in the damned naboo retreat.

you take a sharp left turn, only to be confronted with his towering figure.

"go away." your voice is dripping with vitrol.

anakin disregards your plea, instead grasping hold of your arm and yanking you into an isolated hallway, "please, y/n, don't be mad at me. i can't help it, i love her."

you fight against him and wrench your arm away from him, "you're insolent, skywalker. you don't love her. you just like to break rules."

he takes a step away from you in shock, "why are you being this way?" when you don't reply, he continues, "i know it's wrong but i do love her. i plan to marry her, here. i wanted you there— i want you to be there."

his words pierce through your soul like shards of glass, shattering your sanity until nothing remains but fragments of pain and anguish.

"marry her?" you can barely get the words out, suddenly feeling breathless.

your anger has evolved into something much worse – something injured and broken apart irrevocably.

anakin nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. "yes, i love her that much," he says, almost pleading with you to understand.

you feel a pang in your chest as his words sink in. of course anakin was going to fall for someone; how could you ever expect him not to? but you so desperately wanted it to be you.

"i won't be there," you say, barely above a whisper. "i'm sorry."

anakin's face falls and it takes all of your willpower not to reach out and touch him, the way you're so used to. it would only make things worse.

"why?" he questions, eyes searching your own.

"because i—" you trail off for a moment before continuing more forcefully, "because i can't watch the person i love marry someone else."

it feels too real, admitting those feelings out loud to him. hearing yourself verbalize something that has been buried away for years. from the mind of the young girl who used to go easy on him when sparring, to the women in front of him today.

anakin's face falls and a heavy silence stretches between them, until he finally speaks again, voice laced with tenderness. "i didn't know, y/n."

you can feel the tears welling in your eyes but you bite them back and force out a bitter laugh, "of course you didn't," it's all you can say.

you turn away, unable to bear looking upon him anymore. you struggle against your emotions, trying to keep them at bay. how hard it is being so close to something that you can never have.

"i'm sorry," he says softly, his hand hovering over your shoulder before dropping back down. "i didn't mean for it to come out this way."

you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. "it's fine," you say, though there's no conviction in your voice.

anakin steps closer once more and takes hold of your hands gently in his own. you can feel the warmth radiating off him as he speaks.

"but i want you to know that you'll always be important to me y/n." he pauses for a moment before continuing with renewed determination. "and if things were different…if i got to choose who i loved…" his gaze meets yours intensely, locking onto them like iron bars holding fastened shut on an unbreakable door.

you let him give your hands a squeeze before pulling away, "but you can't, believe me, i understand."

and with that you turn from him, leaving him alone.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Terms and Conditions: JJK Foursome Scenario

A/N: I don't know what came over me, I woke up from a nap and this spilled out of my brain. Keep reading for filth.

Warnings: Foursome sex, female worship situation gone wrong

Feat: Nanami, Higuruma, Gojo x female reader

Word Count: 489 (couldn't write anymore without questioning my sanity)

JJK Masterlist

Imagine a foursome with Nanami, Gojo, Higuruma, and yourself. You think you’ve won the jackpot, it’s your fantasy, so you ask for the ultimate female worshiping scenario. You got to choose who you wanted where. So now you’re on your hands and knees while Gojo places the softest licks on your clit as you hover your pussy over his face while Nanami thrusts softly into you, Higuruma giving you the most sensual kisses on your lips, neck and shoulders while his fingers tease your nipples. 

You may think you’ve come out on top here (figuratively) but these men talked beforehand. Ever the prescient lawyer, Higuruma stated you only said you got to choose who goes where and nothing else. With these other details left unstipulated, the wily man then stated to the others, in no uncertain terms, that they were free to do their actions as they wanted since you did not specify them previously. 

So now you’re stuck in a state of delicious torture, these 3 gorgeous, handsome men somehow simultaneously understimulating you with their unbearable gentleness, yet also overstimulating you by touching all your pleasure centers at once. You can feel yourself getting frustrated, body covered in sweat and desperate for more only for them to take things even slower, almost stopping their minimalistic actions. 

Every time you try to lower yourself onto Gojo’s face, he angles away, tongue never going harder or faster than a breath’s whisper on your swollen bud. Nanami thrusts into you so slowly, purposely angling himself so that he misses your G-spot each time by an inch. And Higuruma, smirking wickedly, barely brushing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs as he licks and nibbles your ears.

“Please…” you whine needily. You can feel your core slick with arousal as Nanami teasingly pulls out of you, fluid dripping out of you and being lapped up religiously by Gojo, the loud slurping noises and the squelching of your cunt too much to bear.

Higuruma grasps your chin, making you look directly at him, enjoying the tears in your pretty eyes, the hazy fucked out frustration all over your face. Nanami slowly pushes back into your wetness, every single inch of his cock being felt by your velvety walls. Your mouth falls open as you pant, struggling to keep eye contact.

“You should’ve specified your terms and conditions a little more clearly m’dear,” Higuruma says tauntingly. A short moment of inactivity ensues as all the men laugh at your state, Gojo’s snickering breaths causing his nose to bump into your clit, making you moan. Your face flushes from the unexpected humiliation. 

“But don’t fret. I imagine we’ll let you cum at least once during this affair. Although…when that’ll be…I can’t say…” he says in an earnest tone.

Your groan of frustration is lost as his mouth covers yours, and all 3 of them resume their roles, turning you into a mess as they slowly fuck you into submission.  

all banners by @/ cafekitsune

[wilcze-kudly]

The Kuvira/Suyin parallels

So, this is piggybacking off my previous post about the Opal/Lin parallels, and to be honest I've always loved making this comparison, wince it's just so damn ironic and juicy.

Suyin and Kuvira are, of course, adversaries through a lot of the show, however, I think it's, mostly due to their similarities.

Both Kuvira and Suyin are, at their cores, leaders of their self made factions. Both also built said factions as coping mechanisms to the abandonment/neglect they experienced as children.

Both these characters garner the affection they lacked as children by having people depending on them. And also controlling said people. Suyin, by building a city and clan she was the matriarchal of. And closer to her, personally, keeping her family tight knit and her children isolated from the wider world and heavily dependent on her. As for Kuvira, it projecting her trauma onto a suffering nation and fashioning herself into being a hero of the people. Someone the people adored.

You don't really need to do a lot of mental gymnastics for this one. They were both isolated and lonely as kids, so they created environments where they were important and revered.

There's clear pressure from both these women for their "people" to conform to the rules they set. Suyin threatens Kuvira and Baatar Jr with banishment. One another occasion, she enables Korra's hunt for Aiwei, despite the obvious risk this endeavour would bring. While Kuvira's methods of control are more... barbaric? I'd call concentration camps barbaric but to each their own.

Suyin 🤝 Kuvira threatening poor earthbender himbos. God I wish that were me.😨👀Haha who said that?

They're fiercely protective of their carefully crafted status quo, since it is, essentially, a coping mechanism. The further it falls apart, the further their own psyche does too.

Suyin's qorst nightmare is her family and city falling apart, while for Kuvira it is when her Empire crumbles.

They can become increasingly manic and desperate the more danger their 'works' are, tossing any moral code or even sanity out the window.

They'll grasp at any straws to protect what's theirs. Suyin pressured Korra into going into the Avatar state, despite Korra's clear discomfort. Kuvira, meanwhile, harnessed the energy of the spirit vines and laid waste to Republic City.

There both even willing to endanger their allies, even those closest to them. Suyin taking her youngest sons on a dangerous mission to try and kill Kuvira (someone they most likely knew as children) while Kuvira herself nearly murdered Baatar Jr, her fiancé and closest supporter, just for the chance of taking out Korra. Rip Beifong brothers you really are the true victims here.

This desperation is understandable... its all they have. Both Kuvira and Suyin grew up alone, feeling unloved by their families. This led them to acting out. Be it for attention or any other reason, they ended up being too much to handle for their parents

We all know about Suyin scarring Lin, right? And this being part of the reason Suyin was forced to leave her home and dropped off at her grandparents. I find it interesting that it is implied that Kuvira too severely injured her mother, perhaps this also being the catalyst for her being given away by her parents too.

Perhaps because Suyin's second chance was so good for her, she wished to extend one to a troubled young girl. I firmly believe she saw a lot of herself in Kuvira (for better or for worse). The line about "hurting someone in this family" easily made me think of what Suyin did to Lin and see that she regrets it and doesn't want Kuvira to go through the same.

Regret, however does not fix all and neither Kuvira, nor Suyin know how to atone for what they've done.

It seems hard for either of these characters to understand the hurt they've caused nor that their actions have consequences. However, Suyin and Kuvira are treated rather kindly by the narrative. We've seen planty of people talk about how Su is coddled by the show's writing. And Kuvira is treated with a similar gentle hand. Redemption is a muddy subject for me, however I will say that bothese very complex and fascinating characters were done extremely dirty by shallow writing.

However, I will finish this long silly ramble by saying that it is very in character for Su to forgive Kuvira, despite this possibly making her children uncomfortable.

A huge part of Suyin's ideology is believing in second chances. However it runs deeper than that. As stated before, her family is the most important thing in the world to her. And Kuvira is part of that family. It's not surprising that Su is hurriedly doing damage control on everything after B4 and everything that happened.

I find Kuvira and Suyin fascinating characters. Their trauma, their drive and the mild insanity with delusions of grandeur is what really pulls together these two tormentors of the Beifong family together for me. ❤️

-

Also, on a side note. I find it very curious when people like one of these characters, but dislike the other, since they are so similair with their arcs and personalitywise. If you are a Kuvira stan and a Suyin hater or a Suyin stan and a Kuvira hater, could you clue me in a little on the thought process? Is it like. Just vibes? Or is it one of the small differences between Su and Kuvira that feels so jarring that it seperates them completely?

[brewed-pangolin]

tattoo artist Soap (and also that other anon about choking Soap) is giving me major brain rot. Cannot stop thinking of this fucker’s neck now. Neck tattoo? Neck tattoo that looks so fucking pretty under your hands

Listen, sweet anon. Tattoo artist Soap is already running a mock around in my brain, and I can't handle it. Joining with the ranks of Gym Rat Soap, and I'm just over here trying to maintain my sanity while these two barrage me with endless thirsty thoughts.

Send help

Nsfw below the cut.

cw dom/sub. two consenting adults

And as for that neck tattoo, I picture him having some ornately detailed art that carries the embodiment of his heritage. Something like the Scottish royal banner intertwined with the crest of the MacTavish Clan. All flowing together with the red and blue stitched colors of his family's tartan.

And it does look so pretty underneath your delicate hands. Nimble fingers wrapping around his thick neck, following the outer lines torn twisted fabric along his flesh as you grind oh so glacially along his hips. His stiffened cock filling you to the brim, feeling him pulse within your walls as you clench around him, pulling the most delicious whines from his lips as he begs for you to fuck him faster.

-

"Fuck- c'mon, bonnie. Faster. Fuck me faster." His pleading growl vibrates against the tips of your fingers as you continually deny him the pleasure of bouncing on his cock.

"Oh no, Johnny. Not yet," you purred. Tightening your grip around his flesh, his muscles becoming taut beneath your grasp as he lengthens his neck and arches his back.

An unearthly moan bellowing from between his parted lips. Clenching his eyes, his thick fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he desperately tries to buck and force you into a faster pace.

You clench your fingers around him, digging your nails into his neck and push your weight down on his hips.

"Not. Yet," you scold. The reprimand in your voice filling you with the confidence you desired as you tightened the needy walls of your cunt around him.

"You haven't earned me bouncing on your cock yet," your bickering tone softened as you released the vice like grip around his neck. "Patience, Johnny. I'll give you what you need."

You pulled your hands away and placed them on the muscular plateau of his chest. Undulating your weight, rocking between your hips and hands as you curled a cruel smile down at your Scottish conquest.

"Say it, Johnny. You gonna be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The whimper in his voice nearly made you come right then and there. Eyes rolling back, walls fluttering around him as you steadily picked up your pace and moved up and down along his thickened cock.

Drabbles Masterlist

[sayoneee]

☆ LET'S DANCE

slughorn decides to play matchmaker for the day, leading to your public humiliation (2.4k)

contains: idiots in love. very loosely based on the david bowie song. swearing. possibly ooc sirius. bit of an existential crisis ig. slughorn. sirius has jokes (bad ones). not proofread

kashaf’s note: havent posted in ages hopefully u like this

YOU LONGED FOR summer’s embrace, and the warm reprieve from the demands of school, yet you are afraid of what it might bring. the longer you try to savor the last of your sixth year, and dream of the carefree hours under never-ending sunlight soon within your grasp, the harder it becomes to ignore the continuously grim headlines of the daily prophet presented at the breakfast table every morning. even amidst your friends’ laughter, the looming shadow of anti-muggle-born propaganda pushed forward by unseen hands propels them to dissect and debate on almost molecular levels, each point characterized by a bite or a clang of a fork. 

the end of your sixth year brings unshakeable exhaustion as constant vigilance weaves itself into everyday life within the ancient walls of the castle, adding to the suddenly rigorous course load attempting to prepare your year for their upcoming n.e.w.t.s. hogwarts, once a haven, now demanded a watchful eye on every staircase and dark corridor, as the hallways echoed with ghostly rumors and whispers found their homes on the staircases. 

“mare, stop tryna murder slughorn with your eyes; he might catch on,” you hissed at mary under your breath, elbowing her discreetly, as you try to appear focused on slughorn’s lesson. 

“maybe he’ll learn his lesson and stop splitting us up,” mary responded resolutely, never once breaking eye contact with the balding pudgy man who, in a horribly clichéd fit of inspiration, had begun assigning partners to brew amortentia in the double-potions period you had been blessed with today.�� 

the somewhat impulsive decision of “james potter and lily evans” had you and mary turning to each other, eyebrows raised as you wondered quite how thick slughorn could be. in general, no one knew what was going on between james and lily. at this point, you surmised neither did they. they had had odd bouts of camaraderie, quickly replaced with civil hostility, resulting in a continuous loop of poorly disguised affection or hatred, like a roulette wheel deciding which lily and james to match up each day. 

you prayed to merlin, hoping whatever disastrous infliction that had befallen slughorn for him to pair james with lily would not contagiously affect his decision for you, and that slughorn would come to his senses and let you spend the amortentia lesson with your sanity intact. alas, merlin had no such qualms about leaving you to fend for yourself as the anticipation you felt when slughorn called your name quickly soured to horror when he followed it up with none other than “sirius black”.

despite the number of mutual friends shared—after your friend groups warmed up to each other this year—the two of you had never gotten along. you’ve since chalked it up to his propensity for being aggravating without rhyme or reason, seemingly driven by an inherent desire to extract reactions. his words, laced with a mirth hard to ignore, are like finely crafted spells designed to unravel your patience. the rest of the school’s population are able to dismiss him, but your inability to ignore him has become something of an enigma.

feeling sirius’s presence next to you, without turning to face him, you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “am i gonna have to remain vigil over our cauldron in case it blows up the minute my back is turned?” 

“as flattering as it is to hear you admit that you’ve been watching me over the years—” here, you let out a derisive snort, causing sirius to pause, and raise his eyebrows at you in challenge, “when have you seen me jinx my own cauldron?” he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips as he loosened his tie even further. 

you groaned, finally making eye contact with him, unsurprised to see that all-too-familiar glint in his grey eyes, “can we please just get this over with already?”

in your six shared years of schooling, you have always distantly conceded him to be handsome, his features falling into the realm of casual observance amidst the whirlwind of classes, and quidditch matches. yet, the way he stares down at you in this moment stirs something within you, the unfamiliar fluttering awakening a newfound awareness. 

his locks of black hair fall delicately in his eyes, as if afraid to obstruct your view. the silver gleam of his piercings catch the glow of the potions bubbling around you, an intricate constellation along the curve of his ears—a bold declaration of his rebelliousness. the smile tugging at the corners of his lips is enigmatic, as if he’s aware that he’s just shifted something fundamental between you. 

“aren’t you moving a little too fast?” sirius continued when you turned to him confused, “take me out to dinner first.” 

you glared at him as understanding dawned on you, “i’m literally going to murder you if you don’t shut up, i swear to merlin.”

“aren’t you kinky?” 

you spin around, pointing your wand at his jugular, watching his adam’s apple bob up then down as he threw his hands up in surrender, an easy-going grin gracing his features, “woah there, guess i touched a nerve, huh?”

you know he’s baiting you, you know his talent for finding weaknesses and exploiting them all too well, but you can’t help yourself when it comes to him, falling into the trap carefully set out for you, biting out a retort before you’re aware of it, “you won’t have any nerves left when i’m done with you.”

sirius grins, no—bares his teeth at you, wolfishly, and suddenly you understand all of james’s dog-related jokes over the years. 

the two of you remain uncharacteristically quiet for the remainder of the potion, you’re surprised by sirius’s begrudging help, and soon enough, you’re sliding the last ingredient in. 

the potion looks right to you, with the mother-of-pearl sheen slughorn gushed about for all of the class period, but you can’t tell because your senses were invaded by the distinct smell of cologne causing you to wrinkle your nose as you eyed sirius apprehensively. 

he seemed to be having the same predicament as you currently, perfect brows furrowed in thought as his eyes glance over the potion. 

“i can’t tell if we did it right,” you venture. 

“me neither,” he shrugs, “all i can smell is your perfume—by the way, did you have to use the whole bottle?”

“i could say the same for you—the room reeks of your cologne, asshole.”

“more like your perfume—”

“i literally ran out this morning—”

“because you dumped the whole bottle on yourself?”

“literally pot calling the kettle black—”

“i am a black—”

“i literally hate you so much—”

a sharp, disapproving cough splits the two of you apart, not only had your argument grown embarrassingly loud in its procession, but it had also orchestrated a gravitational pull between the two of you. the result had been proximity that bordered on the intimate, your personal space evaporating until you were mere inches apart. the ignominy of being publicly seen at sirius black’s throat was nothing compared to the humiliation that followed after slughorn’s unexpected interruption.

slughorn’s rotund figure regards the two of you with a mixture of curiosity and mild exasperation, his mustache twitching slightly in rhythm with the exaggerated rise and fall of his breath, “my dears,” he begins, his tone a blend of genuine concern and theatrical flair, “what seems to be the problem? your potion appears to be brewed successfully, i can see the characteristic smoke spirals, and the mother-of-sheen pearl.”

flushed with embarrassment that seems to spread through you like a fever, you mumble your response lowly, “sorry, professor, but we couldn’t tell because of external factors.”

the air in the room seems to thicken as the collective gaze of your classmates turns toward the two of you, their eyes capturing the awkwardness with an unabashed curiosity that makes you wish you could use a time-turner to escape this particular moment of public humiliation.

slughorn’s hearty laughter fills the room like a boisterous charm, “oho, i see the problem now, my dear,” he addresses you, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “tell me, what do you smell in the amortentia?”

his words hang in the air, and the room's atmosphere has shifted from tense to expectant.

confused, you play with the hem of your skirt as you wonder the relevancy of his question, your gaze flickering uncertainly, tracing patterns in the stone floor as you respond, “um, cologne, leather, and brownies, professor.”

the room, for a moment, becomes a canvas of uncomfortable silence, and you're resolutely avoiding making eye contact with anyone else in the room.  

satisfied with your response, slughorn pivots his attention to sirius, a gleam of intrigue dancing in his eyes, "now you, my boy," he encourages, his voice a velvet stroke, "go on, tell us what you smell."

a twist of surprise clenches within you as you expect sirius to brush off the request, to summon a sarcastic remark as his defense. yet, to your astonishment, he complies, his fingers raking through his hair, “perfume, shampoo, and petrol, professor."

slughorn nods sagely, his lips curving into a satisfied grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes. he claps his hands together once, the sound a punctuation to his assessment. the atmosphere in the room has shifted from suspenseful to charged, every student suspended in the tension of his next words.

"my dears," he addresses the class with the air of a professor on the brink of a profound lesson, "you smell each other in the amortentia, that is your problem."

the previously stifling silence is breached as the dungeon is painted with a symphony of snickers. the air seems to vibrate with laughter, and there's even a bold wolf whistle, which you're almost certain is courtesy of james. yet, amidst this collective amusement, all you can feel is disconcertment, the weight of attention heavy upon you.

as if merlin himself takes pity on your predicament, slughorn's laughter ripples through the room, warm and infectious, as he claps his hands together again, “my young scholars, it's time for practicality. bottle your amortentia, label it, and kindly leave it on my desk before making your exit."

with that, your hasty exit from the dungeon turns into a veritable escape, as you shoulder your bag against your side. every nerve in your body screams for invisibility, to become nothing more than a background figure. however, as you weave your way through the corridors, hoping to dissolve into the anonymity of the crowd, you're struck by sirius black’s unwavering dedication in trailing behind you despite each step you take further into the deepening throng of students. 

just before you can approach the fat lady’s portrait, a hand closes on your elbow and a startled gasp escapes you as you are abruptly yanked into a hidden alcove, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. your eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, but before you can react, a large hand firmly pressed against your mouth, thick silver rings digging uncomfortably against your lips. glaring at your kidnapper, you folded your arms across your chest. 

acutely aware of the proximity, of the scent of cologne now much fainter than in the dungeons, you wait with a mixture of frustation and curiosity. sirius leans as far back as the alcove will let him, which is not much, but at least he’s no longer lurking over you like a predator staring down its prey. 

“the fuck do you want?” you could care less if you smelled him or if he smelled you in the amortentia, because as far as you’re concerned, the two of you can continue to dance around each other in the way you have perfected over the years. in your delicate ballet, he is the master of light-hearted jests flickering like fireflies in the summer dusk, and you are the recipient of his playful pranks and ceaseless banter, carrying an unspoken agreement, holding onto the game you both secretly treasured. 

its predictability is comforting, the way his remarks are as reliable as the rising sun, and your laughter feels like a shared secret between only the two of you. the amortentia's revelations feel like an unnecessary intrusion, an attempt to place confusing labels on your little game.

“go out with me,” sirius levels a roguish grin at you, his grey eyes dance with the mischief you are so accustomed to seeing. 

all you want is to say yes, to revel in stolen glances, the exhilaration of shared laughter, the brushing of your fingers together, and strolling carefree across the castle grounds, but your world isn’t one satisfied by teen romances. it’s one where every word and connection is scrutinized under the weight of a society where love and friendship are tainted by its fixation on blood status. 

you cannot bring yourself to look into his eyes, twinkling with genuine interest, feeling a pang of bitterness as you consider the reality of your world. to say yes would be to risk both your safety and that of your friends, and who knows if the ensuing conflict would leave either of you unscathed. 

“i can’t,” you still cannot bring yourself to look him in the eye as you deliver this unseen rejection with a bittersweet smile, torn between longing for normalcy and the harsh lessons you’ve learned with every picture and name added to the growing list of victims. 

“why not?” sirius asks, confusion coloring his features, as he searches your gaze, attempting to make eye contact. 

you don’t know how to explain without seeming as if you’re getting ahead of yourself, thinking of the distant future, but you try anyway, wringing your hands together, “we don’t know what’ll happen in a year or two, sirius. we don’t even know if we’ll be alive after we graduate.”

his hands cradle your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye, the cool press of his metal rings against your burning skin is soothing, “i’m asking for right now,” he continues, softly, gentler than you have ever known him, his gaze holding yours in quiet intensity, “for you to live for yourself—”

the uncertain future shapes into one of possibility, and so, without conscious thought, you surge forward to kiss him, clumsier than you would have liked, and messier than you have ever known, but it feels right. 

“so, that’s a yes for hogsmeade this weekend?”

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarize or claim any of my works as your own.

[eksvaized]

Part Twenty [ Previous 〡 Next ] taglist: @kingsprettyangel, @simonsslvt, @herwristsarehercanvas, @the-faceless-bride, @ghostieslove, @bbypionaa if you want to be added - let me know!

A/N: the updates on all my stories are slow because of uni the exam season is killing me >.< but once i'm done with it, i plan on posting more frequently!

You stare at the white ceiling. The light blanket draped over your body feels like a suffocating weight that’s pressing down on you. Yet, you lack the strength or mental energy to peel it away. As you lie there, it’s hard to believe that you’re back in this house, back in this room - your room.

When you first woke up, you had thought you would spend the rest of the day crying. But now, the reality of your return, the fact that you didn’t escape, that you’re back where you started, seems oddly natural. It’s as if you had always been caught in this relentless cycle and the brief moments of freedom were just cruel illusions. Of course, you didn’t escape Simon’s grasp. How could you? And for what reason did you even dare to dream of running, when your fate had already been sealed?

A chilling realisation settles heavily on you: deep within, you always knew that you weren’t going to make it too far away. The thought of escape was nothing more than a tantalising mirage that kept you going.

You sink deeper into the mattress, and your thoughts drift to Johnny, his memory filling the empty spaces of your room. His belongings, once scattered haphazardly here, are now all gone. The lack of his familiar presence, the void where he once existed, suggests that he’s probably been banished as well. Simon knows he can trust his friend. Yet he likely doesn’t want Johnny around you anymore. His presence is too dangerous for you. It sparks rebellious thoughts, ignites dangerous ideas that should have just remained as silly fantasies in your silly little head.

Simon occasionally comes into the room. Each time he appears, he brings you a meal: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He always places the neatly arranged tray on the nightstand. However, your appetite fails you every time and you never reach for the food. The meals, untouched, grow cold and then Simon, without saying anything, takes it all away.

You had thought that Simon would grow furious with your refusal to eat. Despite his seemingly calm demeanor, you braced yourself for the moment he would finally snap and unleash his pent-up frustration the moment you dared to meet his gaze. You imagined him yelling, maybe even resorting to physical violence, then dragging you to the basement to be shackled and left alone on the lumpy mattress. However, contrary to your expectations, his interactions with you are limited to occasional curt commands. He orders you to eat, to go shower, to change clothes. Sometimes you comply, sometimes not.

Day after day passes, each blending seamlessly into the next. From the confines of your bed, curled up into a tight ball and clutching your pillow, you watch the sunrises paint the sky with hues of pink and orange. A haze of sleep consumes you, pulling you into its depths and then pushing you back to reality, though every time you wake, you still feel an overwhelming sense of fatigue that never seems to lift.

Time becomes a blur, its passage marked only by the changing light outside your window. You can’t tell if only a few days, a long grueling week, or perhaps a full month has passed since Johnny found you in the forest. But the truth is, you don’t really care. What’s the point? What’s the point of caring, of trying, of devising potential escape plans when you feel the hopelessness seeping into your every pore?

There are moments when you catch yourself questioning your own sanity. What if you really do have a delusional disorder? What if you fabricated all those terrifying scenarios about Simon kidnapping you and forcing you to stay with him? Everything seemed to point in that direction. After all, when you mustered the courage to make an escape attempt, his reaction, when you were brought back home, was far from the explosive rage that you had predicted.

Instead of a storm, there was a surprising calmness, an almost passive acceptance that rocked your preconceived notions. His demeanor was mild, oddly gentle, and this discrepancy led you to question the authenticity of your own perceptions. It was as if a mirror was held up to the distortions of your own mind, casting doubts about the reality you thought you knew.

Simon himself was constantly proving to be nothing more than a caring and soothing presence. His actions were always considerate, his words tender and comforting. This gentle behavior conflicted with the image of the captor you had created in your mind, leading to further self-doubt. You found yourself wrestling with your own thoughts, trying to convince yourself that perhaps, just perhaps, you were indeed fabricating all of these disturbing scenarios.

* * *

Simon has reached his breaking point. The relentless sulking, the constant gloom, the oppressive atmosphere that hangs in your bedroom like a shroud - it’s unbearable. Each day is a mirror image of the one before: he’d make his way into your room, anticipation gnawing at him, only to find you in the exact same position in which he had left you, sprawled out on the bed in an almost lifeless manner, neglecting food and water, your gaze fixated on the wall, staring blankly as though you were lost in a world far beyond anyone’s reach.

So, on one evening, Simon decides to take matters into his own hands. He isn’t going to stand by and watch any longer. He is going to do something, anything, to bring back the light that once twinkled in your eyes.

Simon enters your room, cradling a bottle of what appears to be an extremely expensive bourbon, its golden liquid glinting under the soft evening light. His brows are furrowed in determination, a silent testament to his resolve.

He carefully places the bottle on the nightstand, accompanied by two gleaming glasses. “We are going to drink,” he declares, but you don’t say anything. You raise your chin up and just stare at him. Your gaze empty.

He studies you, his eyes shimmering with a complex cocktail of concern and firm resolution, before he reaches out for your hand. With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulls you out of the bed, making you stand. As you do, your gaze falls upon your own reflection in the mirror that hangs on the wall. You stumble, taken aback by your appearance.

You are still clad in the same clothes you had on when you left the house. The fabric is uncomfortably sticking to your skin, chaffing at the edges. This realization sparks a sudden urge within you to shed it all off. However, you remain frozen because you aren’t alone in the room.

Simon approaches you once more, this time presenting you with a fresh set of underwear, a fluffy white towel, and a pair of shorts along with a shirt.

“Go shower,” he instructs in a tone that brooks no argument. Although a part of you, the part that’s grown comfortable with the cocoon of sadness, wants to shake your head in refusal and retreat back to the bed, you decide that a quick shower wouldn’t do any harm. It might even serve as a much-needed break from the tumult within.

As you make your tentative way out of the room, you catch a fleeting glimpse of Simon’s silhouette against the window, managing to open it despite the lack of a handle. Once the window is cracked, inviting a breath of fresh, untainted air in, he proceeds to methodically peel off all the sheets from your bed, preparing it anew.

You spend a while standing under the scalding hot water. The warmth washes over you, blanketing you in a comforting heat that seems to momentarily suspend the world outside. The luxurious, expensive, fruity smelling gels that Simon has purchased for you are ignored, lined up against the wall of the shower. You simply don’t have the energy to slather your skin with them. However, you make a conscious effort to untangle the knots in your hair, running your fingers through the strands repetitively.

When you come back into the bedroom, Simon is sitting on the bed. Your bed is adorned with crisp, clean sheets, and on the nightstand, next to the bottle and two glasses, there’s a bowl with some steaming hot soup. The aroma wafts through the room.

“You can’t drink on an empty stomach,” he says in a tone that suggests he’s more stating a fact than offering an opinion. If you had the energy, you would no doubt argue with him, insisting that you have no intention of drinking or eating. But instead, you only manage to sit down next to him, the exhaustion preventing any form of protest.

When you make no move to reach for the bowl, Simon takes the initiative. He cradles the dish in his hands and begins to feed you. You allow him to. When a stray droplet of soup trickles down the corner of your mouth, he gently wipes your chin with his thumb, an act that is both comforting and strangely intimate.

There’s a part of you that wants to ask why he’s being so patient, so considerate with you. In fact, myriad questions are swirling in your foggy head, each one demanding an answer. But the haze clouding your mind is so thick, so dense, that formulating even a single coherent sentence feels like scaling a mountain.

Simon insists you finish the entire bowl of soup, meticulously ensuring that not a drop is left before he finally puts it away. As he proceeds to unseal the bottle that has been sitting on the nightstand, you find your eyes inadvertently drawn to his hands, noticing the rough, hardened callouses that adorn his fingers.

“Drink,” another command slips past his lips and he passes you a glass filled to the brim.

You gaze tentatively at the glass. The liquid inside shimmers under the soft glow of the room’s light. You hesitate. You don’t want to drink. However, you know that Simon, with his stubborn persistence, won’t back off or leave you alone until you do. So, with a heavy sigh, you bring the glass to your lips and take the first, small sip, instantly feeling the harsh sting of alcohol as it trickles down your throat, searing every inch it touches.

You hope that after the glass is finished, the alcohol will make you drowsy, lulling you into a deep slumber. After all, it seems that’s all you seem to do these days. Sleep.

However, when your glass finally drains, reaching its anticipated emptiness, instead of the expected heaviness or sense of dread, your eyes unexpectedly widen, and you find yourself becoming more alert. After enduring days of feeling emotionally numb, hollow inside, akin to an empty shell thoughtlessly discarded on a deserted, lonely beach, you feel an unfamiliar warmth spreading gradually throughout your body. This sensation is new, yet not unwelcome.

And then, when Simon, seemingly satisfied with your compliance and perhaps even relieved, nonchalantly turns on the TV, randomly selecting some film to fill the room with some background noise, you find yourself giggling as you watch the screen.

You don’t know why you are laughing or why you keep extending your arm towards Simon, wiggling your glass every time it empties, but you do.

Simon, with a careful vigilance, keeps an eye on you from the periphery of his vision. Matching your pace, he drinks as much as you, if not slightly more, but he is not nearly as drunk as you. Just a bit tipsy. He knows that getting drunk with you is far from the wisest decision he could make. But he quiets his mind, trying to convince himself that you won’t do anything reckless. After all, the bottle was only uncorked after he was fully convinced that you had no intentions of trying to run away again.

After Johnny brought you back, Simon was relieved. Ecstatic, actually. The thought of you, alone in the dark, lost and frightened, was a horrifying prospect that had Simon on the brink of tearing his hair out in sheer anxiety. It felt like a thousand icy needles were piercing his heart. In fact, the notion of you in danger was so excruciating, it made him want to raze the entire forest to the ground until he found you.

He had initially steeled himself, preparing to unleash a storm of admonishment, to let you taste the bitter regret of your impulsive decision to venture outside the safety of the house. After persuading Johnny to leave, under the guise that your condition had worsened, and you needed to recover in a safe environment devoid of any agitation, he stationed himself in your room, sitting by your bedside, watching over you, waiting for your eyes to flutter open so he could mete out the punishment he believed you deserved.

But when you woke up, something was amiss. Simon immediately noticed it. At first, he thought you were simply sad, but there were no tears to confirm his suspicion. No other emotions were evident on your face, either. The vacant stare you wore, the long, empty days you spent lying in bed, refusing to eat, and merely gazing aimlessly out of the window, filled him with an unsettling, gnawing fear. He longed for some kind of reaction from you, any indication that the person he knew was still there, beneath the facade of emptiness. He reasoned that perhaps you needed time to process everything, so he gave you space. Yet, even that didn’t seem to help.

During the times when his emotions would threaten to consume him, when his mind would be bursting at its seams with a relentless onslaught of thoughts, or when he felt the crushing, suffocating emptiness that seemed to envelop him, as though the bullet that had merely grazed him had instead ended his life, he would seek solace in the comforting burn of the most expensive bourbon he could find in the store. He would drink until his mind was blissfully quiet, until he lost consciousness, in the hopes that the morning would bring relief, and the horrors of the previous day would feel like a distant, unpleasant dream from which he had finally awoken.

“Hello? Earth to Simon,” you call out, playfully nudging his shoulder with the tip of your index finger. A lazy smile plays on the corners of your lips. “Are you falling asleep on me—yes, yes, you are!” you exclaim, your laughter bubbling up from deep within your chest. The sound of your giggles fills the room. You sink deeper into the bed and finish the last of your liquor. “You are such a lightweight,” you tease, your voice slightly slurred from the alcohol. Unexpectedly, a hiccup slips past your lips, causing your giggles to escalate into full-blown laughter.

Simon raises his eyebrows. His eyes twinkle with mild amusement and a hint of disbelief. His gaze is fixed on you. It takes him a moment to register your words, but then he shakes his head and smiles. Genuinely, smiles. A feeble grin spreads across his face, accompanied by the gentle crinkling of his eyes at the corners.