#tw: rape/non-con

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Augusnippets Day 13: Path of Hurt- Drugging

For @augusnippets day 13!

This snippet takes place in this universe. This is before the story proper, kinda explores the woman who sexually abuses Arjun specifically chooses him.

TW: Implied rape/non con, drugging, loss of consciousness, ogling, psychological abuse.

Tagging @dreamer-in-sleep and @ba-bhump as well as @i-eat-worlds and @rainydaywhump

Note on the Hindi: Dhoti is a form of clothing which is tied around the waist and covers the wearer from hip to ankle. Pitr shraadh is a ritual honouring the ancestors of the person doing the ritual.

Snippet under the cut.

Word count: 517

She follows him, the kind young officer with a surname that promises power. His family name is so well-known that all she would need to consolidate even more power than she has is a child of his. She is decided in her path.

He makes it all the easier. Always smiling, always courteous, unlike his fellows that mutter darkly about her people. Sticking to a clear routine, ordered and neat. The perfect officer.

She knows his whereabouts well, knows that today, he would honour those of his family that are long gone, that he would be alone for quite the length of time. Just right for her to take action.

He smiles at her like he always does, inclining his head, a white dhoti tied at his waist. She smiles back, affecting coy shyness. It helps that he is definitely not hard on the eyes, the setting sun at his back throwing his handsome, chiseled features and dimpled smile into ever greater grace.

His head is tilted towards her, mouth open to ask a question. She extends the bottle of water to him before he speaks a word. “Oh!” He exclaims. “Thank you,” he smiles again, bright and beautiful. “For your kindness.” He tilts the bottle to his mouth, his adam’s apple moving as he swallows. She relishes the sight. You will pay for my kindness many times over, Lt. Col. Kauraveya.

She melts into the shadows, watching. Halfway into his rituals, he stumbles once, shaking his head.

She only needs to nod for her men to pounce, easily overtaking the disoriented young man.

Laid out on her bed, he is indeed a handsome sight, eyes closed though they are. She had known that of him, having watched him at his ablutions often. The white dhoti he wears hardly offers him any protection from her hungry eyes, the material sheer and dripping with water.

She feasts her eyes on him until he wakes. When he does wake, she knows exactly what to say, having anticipated exactly this. That he would protest, armoured in the vows of matrimony. That she can override his protest, easily at that, by threatening to take her life if he refuses her touch. That is exactly what happens.

He stiffens when she straddles him, her hands deftly unknotting his dhoti. She, however, is well-versed in the finer arts of sexual touch, and soon, his body lies pliant, aided of course by the potent cocktail she had added in his water.

His eyes are wide pools of brown, disarming in the innocence that still clings to them, even as she has her way with him. She is not done yet, her victory unfinished still.

Keeping her voice sultry, she laughs, loud and free. Hands caressing his body, savouring the shiver she feels under her fingers. “What will you tell your beloved, now?” she breathes, smug. “That you too are just a man, like any other, faithful only in name.”

The light in his eyes dim. As those beautiful brown eyes close, she covets her victory in the defeat she sees in his hazy gaze.

[fellowshipofthefics]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sauron | Mairon/Thranduil Characters: Thranduil (Tolkien), Sauron | Mairon, Oropher (Tolkien) (mentioned) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, evil seduction, Thranduil is having a bad time, Past Character Death, Mirkwood Summary:

Thranduil meets his greatest adversary in the ruins of his father's palace

[birdflashweek]

Title/Link: Fill Me Up and Throw Me Out Author: walkerofthestars Rating: Explicit Warning: Rape/Non-Con WC: 3845 Prompts: Breeding Kink || Human Vibrator Wally West || "Bear My Children and I will do anything for you" Summary: Dick and Wally are kidnapped by scientists running a meta-human breeding program. If that weren't bad enough, the scientists are incompetent.

BIRDFLASH WEEK IS UPON US!!

Happy Day 1 everyone! As of now the collection is open! Remember to @birdflashweek for anything posted here on tumblr. We're very excited to see what everyone creates <3. Any fic posted you want us to promo will be reblogged here with it's stats, so keep a look out for that! Reminder of today's prompts (NSFW under cut)

[konigsblog]

cw: rape/non-con, kidnapping. 🌽🌾

farmer-könig who gets pent up on the field after working long hours, especially with a pretty little thing like yourself stumbling across his land. farmer-könig who doesn't appreciate when uninvited guests come running into his land unexpectedly, only to get screamed at to leave. he doesn't like socialising, that's pretty obvious, especially with how riled up and tense he is around others.

although, instead of aiming a shotgun at you to threaten your life and intimidate you off of his grass, he finds himself heartless as he pushes you down into the grass, where he's able to slide into your cunt repeatedly while you choke out a weak apology through tears and pained whimpers.

“godverdammt- should’ve thought twice about coming onto my land, maus.”

perhaps he'll even keep you to himself, chained away in his little warm house, made to benefit and pleasure him.

[ghouljams]

Another Ghoul Rewrites The Shining this time with one Mr. John Mactavish. The Overlook Hotel might be getting to him...

(cw: dacryphilia, biting, breeding, light misogyny, threats, non-con -> con, dark!Soap, f!reader, horror au, ghosts, manipulation, madness/insanity, Dead Dove Do Not Eat)

I'm not responsible for you not reading the content warnings, this is a horror au, don't complain to me about it.

"Ahm nae gonna hurt you baby," Johnny tells you, the playful mirth of his tone feeling more mocking than comforting as you sob. He backs you up the stairs, his hands grabbing at the bat you wave. It feels playful, his grin crooked as you shake and scream at him.

"Stay away from me!" You sob, your voice feeling shrill. You have to stop him. You have to get out of here. You have to get your son and get out of here.

"Ahm nae gonna hurt ya," he repeats it, as if that will convince you. His hands grab the bat when you swing it at him. Your shoulders heave and you silently beg for him to let you go, pulling at the bat with every weakness you have against your husband's strength.

Johnny shoves the bat back against you, the end of it punching into your solar plexus and knocking the wind out of you. You tumble back against the stairs, releasing the bat to scramble up them as you try to catch your breath. You're sure your tears do nothing but egg your husband on as he grips your discarded bat in both hands and breaks it over his knee.

"Dinnae let me finish hen," he coos, taking another step towards you, "Ahm nae gonna hurt ya, ahm just gonna hauld ya down and remind ya who tha' cunt belongs tae."

The way he says it leaves no room for debate, it makes your blood run cold. You scream and clamor up the stairs. Johnny's hand wraps around your ankle and pulls you back down. You sob and claw at the carpeted steps, trying to gain purchase when you can barely see through the tears.

You kick back at Johnny, trying to catch any solid part of him before he yanks you down the steps a second time. Your chin catches one of the carpeted stairs and you see stars as your teeth clatter together. He takes the opportunity to push your corduroy overdress up and yank your fleece pants down. You try to blink the ringing out of your ears as Johnny rubs his cock between your folds.

Hyperventilation seizes you quick as he presses the blunt head against your tight hole. He's thick enough to hurt even with stretching, but now? Now you scream, shriek with something between anger and fear, and twist to push at him. It's just enough to get him out of you, to let you suck in a breath. Johnny catches your hands and tugs them behind your back with a grimace. He pulls your arms hard enough to inspire a fresh wave of tears as your shoulders scream in pain.

"Come oan hen," Johnny rasps, pulling you back to rut his cock between your thighs, "it's just like when we play pretend." You shake your head, yank at his grip and try to get your feet under you on the steep steps. "Ya cry an beg, but in the end ya always give in."

"Please John," You beg, "please, don't hurt me."

"Aye just like that, cryin' so pretty fer me."

"Oh god-" you hiccup trying to stop the violent sobbing that breaks your words apart, "-you're gonna kill me-" your tears blind you, your nose runs like a loose faucet, "-you're gonna chop me up, you planned it, I saw!" The rest of your words jumble together, beat black and blue by the heaving of your ribs as your world comes crashing down.

Johnny's grip on you loosens a fraction. Some measure of lingering hesitance swallowed down as he presses against your back. He molds himself to your spine, making the steps dig into your stomach. His nose pushes into the hair behind your ear, and he draws a shaky breath. It feels like your husband, like all the other times he's chased you through the house, and you sag under the weight of how much he's changed.

"I don't want tae kill ya hen," Johnny murmurs, "but they fill mah heid with all this-" he tenses, his body rigid and poised to attack, it makes you cower to feel such a predator pin you down, "-Ah gotta get it out of me, or ah really will hurt ya."

You press your forehead to the step and try to stiffen against your body's shaking.

Just like a scene, you try to convince yourself. It's just like the scenes you've played out with Johnny a dozen times. You're sure if you can find that soft fuzzy head space it'll protect you from whatever comes next. This has to be a scene.

Except you've never felt truly afraid during those. You've never felt your ribs lock when your husband's cock rubs over your exposed cunt, never felt the blistering heat of shame creep over you so aggressively. He's always moved a hand to guide himself to your entrance but now he uses both to keep you pinned, rutting against you like an animal until you're suddenly filled.

You're sure the shriek you let out could wake the dead.

Johnny's big, he knows he's big, and he's always been careful with you. Even when playing he'll find a way to stretch you out before trying to shove his cock into you. There's no preamble, no build up, just the searing heat of being stretched past your limit on your husbands fat cock. The warmth that surges through you leaves you trembling in Johnny's grasp, your teeth grit and your breath heavy as you try to manage the pain.

The only soothing you get is the grind of Johnny's hips against your ass, his lips against your shoulder as your brain plays catch up with your body. Heat burns at your entrance, stretched uncomfortably tight and dry around your husband's cock. There's no slick to ease the grind of his cock against the deep pit in you. Still, your eyes flutter, some awful spark of recognition seizing your nerves. Your body knows this part, knows the sting of pain, the dull throb of biting pleasure that digs its claws into your stomach and pulls it tight.

"There ya go, just like playin' pretend." Johnny murmurs against your ear, "Chokin' my cock squeezin' me like that."

Your face pinches in pain as he pulls out. The blunt head of his cock nudges against the soft spot by your entrance and you make a noise without meaning to. You can feel the teeth of Johnny's smile against your neck, before he's hammering his cock against the spot.

You scream again, sobbing for a different reason as you feel your cunt spasm, pleasure and tight pain lacing through you. Your skin heats, your clit tingling as he hits that tight bundle of nerves over and over again. It's a strange feeling, feeling each plunge of his cock, each knock against your walls, grow a little wetter. That must be his intention, working you into a dripping mess so that he can use you however he likes. But God. Why does it have to feel so good?

You choke on your gasps, your sobs garbled and incoherently groaned against the steps. Your stomach draws tighter and tighter, and your eyes flutter as you try to focus on the violation and not the orgasm your husband is forcing you towards. If you can just keep your mind on the way he'd chased you down, the way he'd ripped your pants down and pushed inside, maybe you can stop the rising tide of orgasm.

It doesn't work. Your brain is too addled with the other times he's done the same thing. How many times has your husband held you down and taken his pleasure from you? How many times have you begged him to? You've ruined yourself for him, and let him ruin you in turn. Even if you could hold onto the disgust and fear, your body betrays you.

You thought he'd laugh when he finally pushed you over the edge, your cunt fluttering around the shallow thrusts as you soak his hastily unbuttoned pants with your squirt, but he doesn't. It's just his hot breath against your throat, his canines scraping the skin as you whimper around your orgasm. There's a simmering of desire under his lips that seems to worm its way through your veins. Poison deposited in your carotid that addles your brain and makes your hips jump in his hold.

What you should have anticipated is how quickly he shoves the whole heavy length of his cock back into you. The path slick with your orgasm and your walls still spasming, he pushes himself as deep as he can. The sudden fullness makes you gasp. It doesn't hurt quite the same this time. You're too sensitive, your nerve endings lit up to feel every inch of his cock as it drags against your soft walls. It melts your brain, that slick burn sets you alight and you find your hips wiggling back against him.

"So bonnie when ya cry f'r me," Johnny hums, catching the tears that drip from your jaw with his tongue, "Told 'em Ahd have ya beggin', teach ya yer place. Fuck-" he pulls back, thrusts into you in a sharp staccato that punches breathless moans from you, "-anno ya love it, tryin' tae milk me like a fuckin' vice. Stupid fuckin' whore, runnin' fr'm yer 'usband."

"Fuck," you whine, between gasping breaths, "Johnny, baby, fu-uck."

"Aye, there she is," Johnny laughs, "see bonnie? Nae gonna hurt ya." He wraps a hand around your throat, cushioning it against the steps as he pushes his weight into his thrusts. You let out a garbled moan, it sounds so animalistic you're almost surprised it came from you. God the way he punches his cock into you aches, it's nauseating, it's so fucking good, it's too much for you to handle, it's going to drive you insane. That heavy throbbing pleasure that twists darkly in your stomach makes you tighten up again, makes you painfully aware of the way he's kept your arm twisted. Like he's still afraid you'll make a break for it, as if you had the strength to get free.

"Tell 'em 'oo ya belong tae, mah bonnie." Johnny grunts. You're dizzy with pain-pleasure, your eyes are swimming with tears, but you're almost convinced you can see them. The party of onlookers, dressed in outdated clothes, their smiles rueful, twisted with cruelty as they sip champagne and watch your husband take you apart. They blur, and fall apart with the drop of your tears.

"John-ny," You moan, "Johnny, Johnny, please."

His tongue follows the track of your tears, his lips pressing soft against the corner of your eye. "Aye, tha's right." He's so patronizing, cooing to you like you're a stupid animal, "An' Ah'll keep remindin' ya, remindin' all of ya, until Ahm sure it took."

That sticks in your melted mind, something in the way he says it has barbs, a promise of something more than just this violent coupling.

"Wha-" Your eyes roll as he squeezes your throat, just enough to make you light headed.

"Shhh," He presses his lips to your temple, "be good for me, bonnie, dinnae wanna make y'r 'usband mad now." You push back into his hard thrusts, you're good, you're so good. You can feel the heavy breaths he takes, the only indication he's given that he might be close to his own edge. "Gonna be so pretty when yer fat with ma bairn." He murmurs, and you clench tight around him. His resulting groan is deadly, delicious, barely a precursor for the way his teeth sink into your neck.

He fucks you breathless, his cock fucked into you so fast you can't do anything but scream for him. You feel warmth bloom on your neck and know he's drawn blood, but you can't find it in yourself to care when he's so rapidly pushed you to the edge again.

You sob, claw at the steps with your free hand, squirm away from his heavy thrusts, whatever you can to stop the explosion of burning heat that he pumps into you. Your cunt aches, your clit throbbing with needy tingles. You can't even string the necessary words together, but Johnny understands you anyway, dropping your arm to work his own under you and pinch your clit.

Stars burst behind your eyes, and you shake apart in his hold. He rolls your clit between his fingers, letting your cunt milk him as his thrusts slow into uneven grinding and finally still. His hips press tight against your ass and he releases his hold on your neck with a shaking breath.

Johnny pulls away from your back and you collapse boneless against the steps. His hands run over you, ease your arm carefully back to your side, gentling motions so different but so familiar. You can feel the drip of his come when he pulls his softening cock from you, hear the click of his belt as he fixes himself, apparently in no hurry to give you your dignity back.

Instead he rolls you onto your back and grabs your arm to haul you up and over his shoulder.

Like a caveman taking his prize home after a hunt, you think, your eyes drifting closed.

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [smashed]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: NON-consent / r*pe, dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), filming, taking pictures, hair pulling, choking, humiliation, kidnapping

Notes: This is the last AND DARKEST of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Spiced is the soft!dark version.

sugar pumpkin | spiced pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You slip your shoes off, drop your bags on the counter, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom. You want to change your clothes from the more pedestrian to something a little more tempting with lingerie beneath before your husband gets home. You’re expecting him back tonight. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, hand flying to your chest. “Who are you?”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“Lloyd Hansen,” he answers, and makes a show of bowing slightly. 

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man whose name you’ve been warned about. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you hoped to avoid indefinitely. 

He looks you up and down slowly, then sits back on the bed. “I see why your husband decided to commit himself to matrimony. I’d almost do it to lock down a sweet thing like you. Almost.”

You widen your eyes slightly and chew your bottom lip. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give away how terrified you are. 

“Your wonderful, dreamy husband is supposed to be back soon, isn’t he, Pumpkin?” he says, question rhetorical, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. 

You nod, hoping against hope it will deter this man. 

“Oh,” he coos, “I have a good girl on my hands, don’t I?” 

“Please, please, just go,” you venture a plea, trying to keep your voice as even as you can. “You can leave without any trouble.”

“You’re so sweet to offer, but here’s shit of the situation: your husband took something I really wanted, caused me a lot of trouble, so I’m here to take something from him.”

“Take whatever you want,” you offer, desperate to satisfy and send him away if you can.

“Dangerous word choice, Pumpkin,” he says, stalking forward, “because the plan is you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as Lloyd Hansen approaches, his predatory gaze never leaving yours.

"Me?" you choke, your voice barely audible. You take an involuntary step back, and your body presses against the door.

He places his hands on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. Lloyd's lips curl into a cruel smile. "Oh yes, you. The most precious thing Nick Fowler has. I'm going to enjoy watching him suffer, knowing I have you."

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare. You glance towards the hallway, wondering if you could make a run for it.

As if reading your thoughts, Lloyd's hand shoots for your wrist, gripping tightly, and he drags you toward the bed. In one swift motion, Lloyd hefts you up, flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in a filthy kiss. 

You push against him, but it’s futile. Nick has this much strength, but he never uses it against you. Your eyes prick with tears of humiliation and fear. Lloyd’s rough hands shouldn’t be on you at all, but they’re everywhere and touching you in ways that are far too intimate - ways that your mind is vehemently reeling against but that your body doesn’t know how to do anything but respond to.

"Now, now," he purrs, leaning in to speak directly in your ear like only a lover should. "No need to be frightened. I'm not going to hurt you… much."

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare. You think of your husband, and wonder desperately if he might arrive home early, if there's any chance he could save you from this dangerous situation. But even as the thought crosses your mind, you know it's unlikely. Nick isn't due back for hours.

Lloyd's hands continue to roam your body, and you try to squirm away from his touch. "Please," you whimper, "don't do this."

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, Pumpkin. Begging already? We've barely begun."

He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. You look up at him, terrified and trembling, waiting with bated breath. 

He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes. 

His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slipping a finger inside. 

You cry out, but your hips arch for more of what it usually craves, betraying you to this monster.

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he murmurs, adding another finger and thrusting them inside you.

You wriggle and writhe beneath him, unable to control your body’s response to his touch. He watches with dark satisfaction as you lose yourself in the moment.

“I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles. “Knew you would be fun to torment.”

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as Lloyd's skilled fingers work their magic. You hate yourself for responding, but your body continues to betray you, growing slick with arousal.

"Stop," you beg, even as your hips buck against his hand.

Lloyd chuckles darkly. "Your mouth says stop, but your body is eager for more." He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that makes you cry out. "That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds."

You turn your head away, ashamed of the pleasure coursing through your body despite your fear and revulsion. Lloyd grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.

"No, no, Pumpkin. I want to see your face when you come undone," he growls, his fingers working faster inside you. His steel blue eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of lust and cruelty that makes your stomach churn.

Yet your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release. You try to hold back, but Lloyd is determined to hurl you over the edge. His thumb increases pressure on your clit, circling relentlessly.

"That's it," he encourages, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He pulls out his phone, aiming the camera at you. "Let's give your husband a little show, shall we?" Lloyd says, his eyes glinting with malice.

Your eyes widen in panic at the sight of the phone. "No, please don't," you beg breathlessly.

Lloyd just grins wickedly. "Oh, but I must. Your husband needs to see what he's missing."

His fingers continue their merciless assault on your most sensitive areas. You're helpless against the onslaught of sensation, your body betraying you as waves of pleasure build.

"Come for us, Pumpkin," Lloyd commands. "Let Nick see how much you enjoy another man's touch."

You shut your eyes and cover your face with your arms.

Lloyd's fingers curl inside you again, and with a strangled cry, you fall over the edge. He keeps torturing you for a few more moments, making you buck and try to push him away. He laughs, letting you finally have one small victory.

But the reprieve is brief.

He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head inside you. Your scream is weak, but it breaks out of your throat as you beat against his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

Lloyd's pace is agonizing, each thrust deep and deliberate. You try to disconnect, to retreat into your mind, but he won't allow it.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough. When you don't comply, he grips your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "I said look at me while I fuck you."

You don’t realize you are crying until you hear your breath hitching against the backdrop of the music you had turned on when you got home. Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare into cold, blue eyes. Lloyd's mustache twitches as he smirks, clearly enjoying your distress.

"That's it, Pumpkin. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your tears only seem to spur Lloyd on, his thrusts becoming harder, but not faster. You try to stifle your cries, but each powerful movement forces small whimpers from your lips.

"Such sweet sounds," Lloyd murmurs, his breath hot across your face. "I wonder if your husband makes you sing like this."

You turn your head away, unable to bear looking at him any longer. Lloyd growls, displeased, and grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back.

"I don’t need to fuck you," he snarls. “I’m doing it because I can. I’m doing it because I want Nick to know how thoroughly I’ve violated you here, in his bed, and then I’m still going to take you and make him come find you.”

You sob and it only fuels more of Lloyd's cruel desire. He releases your hair, his hand sliding down to grip your throat. The pressure isn't enough to cut off your air, but it's a clear threat.

"Shh, shh," he coos mockingly. "Feel every inch of me. Remember this moment, because it's going to haunt you for a long, long time."

You try to block out his words, to focus on anything else, but it's impossible. His hips continue their relentless pace, each thrust sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. You hate yourself for responding, for the way your walls clench around him involuntarily.

"That's it," Lloyd snarls. “Fucking come around my cock, Mrs. Fowler.”

He releases the pressure from your throat, and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs combined with the pleasure assaulting your cunt pushes you into another orgasm. Lloyd groans as you squeeze him, and you feel him twitch inside you, but he pulls out and shoots hot ropes of cum across your chest and your face, pumping his fist furiously up and down his cock, one short cruel laugh of triumph ringing out.

Lloyd kneels above you, and snaps pictures with his camera this time. He lets you curl in on yourself while he tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips up his pants. He gives a low whistle, and two men appear in the doorway to your bedroom. You choke back another sob.

“Get up,” he orders. “You can either walk out to the van or these two will haul you out.”

Desperate not to have anyone else touch you, you scurry off the bed. You reach for your discarded underwear and jeans, but Lloyd barks, “No, leave it. You’re coming just like that.”

You look up sharply, opening your mouth to protest, but it dies when you see the gun in his hand pointed at your head. Fresh tears streaming down your face, you straighten up, and walk, humiliated, out of your bedroom in only your bra and your torn shirt, Lloyd’s hot, sticky cum still on your skin, and it’s all you can do to hold back your sobs until you’re curled in a ball in the dark of the trunk of a car.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

...

And so it ends.

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (14)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced gang rape/non-con, non-graphic rape/non-con, non-consensual drug use, sexual violence, physical violence, vomiting, food poisoning.

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 8k

← Previous Chapter (13) | Next Chapter (15) →

⚠️‼️WARNING!!! TRIGGERING SCENES AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS ABOVE!!! ⚠️‼️

*****

Jungkook woke up feeling wet kisses splaying on his face. He begrudgingly opened his eyes, neck stiff because of his unforgivable sleeping position across your bedroom door.

"Mornin' Kookie~," 

"Hmm?" Jungkook blinked. His brain had yet to catch up on what was happening, but his blurry eyes could already make out the tiny figure of his son.

He saw Soobin waving his little hand and smiling down at him.

"Soobin?" Jungkook blinked. Soobin beamed at him in response, prompting Jungkook's sleepiness to be washed away. He unconsciously wrapped his arms around Soobin's body to pull him closer.

"Kookie, hello!" 

Jungkook winced when his son embraced his neck and tried to climb over his shoulders. It's true that children had the energy of Olympians. Jungkook wasn't able to protest when Soobin decisively climbed his shoulder, using it as a foundation to reach for the doorknob.

Soobin didn't hesitate. With a twist, the door flew open.

Shit.

Jungkook was caught off guard. He was leaning on the closed door, so he and Soobin fell sideways when it opened. Thankfully, he immediately caught his son and protected his head from colliding on the tiled floor.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Hell would break loose if you saw even a small bruise on Soobin's skin.

"What's wrong with you two?" Your voice sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. Speak of the person, and they shall appear. His decelerating heartbeat spiked up again at the sound of your pissed-off voice.

Jungkook was forced to flick his gaze on you. He was surprised to see you on the ground. 

You appeared to just have been woken up, too. You scratched the back of your head and yawned.

"Did you sleep on the floor near the door?" Jungkook couldn't help but ask. He sat up and helped Soobin get on his feet, wanting to check if his son got injured. But before Jungkook could do so, Soobin was already jumping into your arms.

"Ma!" Soobin pulled at your neck, visibly making you cringe. It solidified Jungkook's conjecture that you also dozed off on the floor.

However, you vehemently denied it.

"Soobin, no hugging for now. Your Mama got a stiff neck from sleeping against the door."

"I did not sleep here!" You growled at Jungkook as you fought a yawn. This was in contrast to how softly you whispered to Soobin to lay low with the hugs.

Jungkook dramatically gasped, acting all scandalized. "It's not good to lie in front of your kid, you know~."

For some reason, Jungkook was in a good mood. You, sleeping on the floor and against the door, hinted that you weren’t as unaffected by what had happened a few hours before. You probably listened to Jungkook's speech with your ears against the door.

Perhaps you went as far as almost opening the door for Jungkook—this was dangerous wishful thinking, though. Jungkook had to force himself to shake the thought away. There was another way to see if you intended to allow him to stay.

Call him selfish, but Jungkook wanted to test that theory. He licked his lower lips, eyes ogling at you, who was unconsciously mumbling that your neck only hurt because you cracked it the wrong way.

"I know how to relieve stiffed necks." Jungkook started before trailing off. He couldn't stop himself from staring at your neck.

Jungkook forced himself to clear his throat.

"Do you want me to massage your neck?"

The thought of physical contact would make you recoil if you were disgusted by an ex-convict. Jungkook's hands were clammy. It was his idea to test the waters with you, but it didn't mean he wasn't nervous. He had only developed the habit of smiling, joking, and thinking about sexual stuff when things were making him anxious. It was his coping mechanism.

A few seconds had passed now. Jungkook was half expecting you to reject him, already content with the thought of feeling your neck pulse.

At least you were alive, Jungkook thought. You were alive and near him. This should beenough. You also hadn't explicitly told him to go, so he could—

"Alright."

Jungkook's train of thought paused at that. He didn't know if he ever whipped his head so fast it felt like it almost snapped.

He didn't care. Jungkook had to look at you and confirm if he heard you right:

He did.

"You can massage my neck later." You carried your son and stood up. You unconsciously purred when Soobin kissed your cheeks and requested omurice for breakfast.

You looked pointedly at Jungkook. "You heard your kid. He wants to eat. Chop, chop, Kook."

You didn't wait for a response and just went straight out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

Jungkook breathed out, suddenly feeling hollow. But in a good way. The anxiousness filling his heart was emptied.

He smiled to himself. Omurice sounded good for breakfast.

***

The neck massage was scheduled another time even though your neck was stiff now. Blame it on your phone, which had been ringing nonstop.

"It's the team." You rolled your eyes, though one could see that you weren’t annoyed. It was more of a fond gesture.

It was lunchtime now. Your breakfast went well. You and Jungkook dropped Soobin off at the daycare. The kid's schedule was packed since it was the school's foundation day. Jungkook didn't want to leave Soobin alone, but the teacher advised that kids Soobin's age should learn how to adjust and be more independent.

You had no choice but to drag Jungkook away from the school premises. You had other things to do, anyway. Your beeping phone was one of your agenda.

"The team's calling to know if you've accepted our job offer."

Jungkook stopped licking his ice cream in a cone, head twisting to look at you to see any sign of mirth.

You were dead serious. You furrowed your brows at Jungkook. "What."

"Nothing," Jungkook bit his ice cream until his teeth ached. "I just thought you've retracted the offer."

"Why would I do that." You frowned and offered Jungkook a tissue. What a disgusting asshole. His hands were covered with melted ice cream.

Jungkook took the tissue to cover the sight of his trembling lips. He wanted to throw the ice cream as he couldn't bear the cold. However, he didn't have the heart to waste food. He was constantly reminded of what he had to endure as kids threw ice cream at him while wearing the clown costume.

Those days felt like a lifetime ago, yet Jungkook was still here. It didn't change the fact that he felt like shit.

"You read the paper I handed you," it wasn't a question. Jungkook knew you knew of his past now. There was no way you would stay still after knowing that the person who babysat your son used to be in prison.

Frankly, even until now, Jungkook was waiting for you to drop the news to him—that he would have to leave sooner or later. You showed mercy earlier, but who's to say you wouldn't change your mind?

"I didn't." You surprised Jungkook by this admission. You squared your shoulders and snatched the ice cream cone from your best friend. You threw it in the trash can. Jungkook was about to protest, but you shushed him.

"You look stupid trying to finish that ice cream. You should have thrown it away if you didn't want it." It was Soobin's dessert in the first place. The kid handed it to Jungkook earlier before you left. Soobin thought his father wouldn't miss him so much if he had ice cream with him. "And wipe your goddamn mouth and shut it, will you? Don't look too surprised that I didn't read the paper. I told you I was shocked and needed time, but you didn't exactly give me time to process shit with your cheesy line last night."

"I'm sorry." Jungkook's cheeks heat up. He dodged your gaze, but it didn't take long for him to look at you again. You were scoffing at him.

"Now you're actin' all shy? I'm telling you now, bastard. If what you said last night was shit, I swear I will fucking—"

"It's true." Jungkook cut you off. "I mean it."

It was only then that Jungkook noticed your frozen body. Your shoulders sagged in relief upon hearing Jungkook's confirmation.

"Good." You held your head high, "Because I'd rather hear the truth from you than that paper. Do you still want to have dinner with me?"

"Lunch." Jungkook looked at the wristwatch you had gifted him. You had time before Soobin got off school. "Let's have lunch. In our usual place."

Jungkook realized he didn't want to bare his heart out in a fancy restaurant where people acted all stiff and fancy. He wanted to be in a safe and familiar environment where he knew there would be no judgment on whatever he did. No one would eavesdrop as everyone was busy in their own world.

It's the ADA. Jungkook hadn't been here in years. Many things had changed, but sadly, the one thing Jungkook hated the most remained.

Natsume--the fortuneteller who sang his prediction, was still in business. Jungkook met Natsume's teasing gaze. He started playing his guitar, ready to piss off the brunet. Luckily, you had come prepared. You immediately pulled Jungkook inside the ADA restaurant.

"I warned you earlier that Natsume still sings. You said you don't mind." You gave Jungkook a warning look. "Don't fight him. We didn't go here for that. You have a responsibility to me."

Jungkook clicked his tongue and wriggled out of your iron grip. He sighed, "Fine."

You chose a table far from the window. You couldn't have Jungkook distracted because of Natsume. Thankfully, Jungkook didn't talk about the fortuneteller anymore. He looked deep in thought. Jungkook wasn't sure where to start. The paper he gave you last night was the summary of his criminal case. Jungkook envisioned you reading that paper and bombarding him with questions.

The thing was, you were feeling generous to him. You didn't immediately go straight to questioning, opting to order food first. You didn't have to ask Jungkook. You knew he liked crab spring rolls. They were perfect with a bottle of soju.

You almost ordered the alcohol but stopped when you remembered Jungkook didn't drink anymore.

"Let's not drink. Soobin is fussy when he smells alcohol." You thanked the server after he placed your order. What you said to Jungkook was an excuse and the truth. Your son would scrunch up his nose whenever he got a whiff of your favorite wine. Jungkook knew of your intention. He smiled nonetheless.

"You're a good mom," Jungkook said sincerely, and with a quick snap, he broke the chopsticks apart to start eating the complimentary edamame. It felt nostalgic to eat this, giving Jungkook the illusion that you two were high school students whose only worry was how to earn money. 

Your lives were way more complicated than that now. You could never go back. You had Soobin and other things to consider when making decisions.

You weren’t sure whether to nod or shake your head. You settled with a subtle cough.

"I try to be. It wasn't easy at first..." You trailed off and shook your head. "Anyway, there were lots of challenges. You're doing better than me. Soobin warmed up to you fast."

Soobin liked Jang Min and Lee Sung, though it took him some time to get used to meeting up with them. But with Jungkook, things were different. You wondered if it had something to do with their biological relationship.

Jungkook couldn't use that fully as an excuse. He thanked the server for bringing in their food before answering you. "I told you before, didn't I? I've experienced handling kids."

You briefly remembered that as you felt your neck turning crimson. Jungkook had a phase where he was obsessed with getting you pregnant. You never really got the chance to know where Jungkook's fetish started. It was his cue to tell you how things started.

With a warm meal before you two, Jungkook told you how he messed up his life.

Nine Years Ago, 2014:

The thought of dropping out of university had been on Jungkook's mind for a long time, though he never gave it much thought.

That was until Jimin asked Jungkook to accompany him in social work. Jungkook didn't get it at first. Jimin was his promising senior who talked money as Francis, his business-minded boyfriend, greatly influenced him.

Jimin recently graduated college, but he was still in touch with Jungkook. As his hubae, Jungkook looked up to his Jimin-hyung. The latter usually talked about improving life, and that was all Jungkook wanted.

He longed to give you a life where you wouldn't have to struggle. You could pursue whatever studies you wanted without having to think about money.

Money talked, so Jungkook didn't understand why Jimin wasted his time entertaining illegal immigrants. It was on the outskirts of Incheon. These foreigners lived underground with their families. Jimin and some other kindhearted people visited them to feed them and offer them some minor work to get them through one day's meal.

Jungkook frowned at this. Jimin was just starting a small business. He often asked for help from the immigrants to run his business. Jungkook thought Jimin was better off with other people who were far more competent than these illegal settlers.

Jungkook didn't even want to be here. Jimin urged him, saying that if Jungkook really wanted to be business partners with him, he had to first see the kind of work Jimin was doing.

Jungkook didn't think interacting with these immigrants would convince him, but his perspective changed when a kid clung to his leg.

The kid was very small and obviously malnourished. He didn't seem to understand the danger his body was in. A carefree smile decorated his lips.

"Hyung, thank you." The kid's teeth were black and yellow. In normal circumstances, Jungkook would subtly kick the child or say something to make him go away.

But something in this child's smile softened Jungkook's heart for some reason.

"You and the other hyung there help my mom earn money!" The kid pointed at Jimin, who was busy talking to a woman. Jungkook figured that the woman was probably this kid's mother.

"We haven't eaten in days. I thought we'd have to get beaten up first."

"What?" Jungkook was taken aback. He was sometimes mean, but he didn't go around hurting people. What did this kid mean when he mentioned getting beaten up...?

The kid showed his bruised arms; he didn't have to explain for Jungkook to understand what was happening:

The kids and the people living underground were exploited. 

Jungkook clenched his jaw. The memory of younger you working in a bar lit up in his head, making him clench his hands into fists.

The indignation that abruptly clogged his veins was too much to bear, acting like a big block stopping his heart from beating.

His vision doubled. It was too much. These kids had gone through so much at a young age.

Just like you.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook dropped to his knees to look at the kid in the eyes. It was not fair. This kid was still smiling despite life being cruel to him. He didn't understand why the innocent had to suffer when far worse people were walking this planet.

"Why?" The kid caressed Jungkook's hand on his cheek. "You saved us! We want to thank you!"

After the kid said this, the other children went up to hug Jungkook. They kept calling him hyung to offer their thank you. Jungkook couldn't accept their gratitude, knowing that this was Jimin's work.

Their pleasant smile should be directed to Jimin and not him. However, when Jungkook looked at his friend, Jimin stood there, offering him a small smile and encouraging him to appreciate this moment.

Jungkook's heart throbbed painfully in his chest, and when he cast his gaze back at the kids, the pain he felt subsided, and it was quickly replaced with pride.

Jungkook smiled with only one thought in mind: I will make these kids proud.

Present, 2023:

You always knew Jungkook was closed off. He was not the type of person who would share personal experiences like this. When Jungkook told you before that he would drop out of college, you thought he was making a mistake—that he was blinded by money and pride. You never knew Jungkook's catalyst to venturing with Jimin was those kids.

The children made Jungkook want to do better, but it was also them who became his downfall.

Six Years Ago, 2017:

Things had already escalated, so Jungkook was forced to retreat to a corner, his back pressed on a cold wall with no way of stepping back.

He fucked up.

He fucked up so badly with business the same way he fucked up with you when he slept with your Jisoo-unnie.

There was no room for regret after that night. Not when he didn't have time to process things. Jungkook had to rush Jisoo to the hospital when they woke up naked on the couch.

Jisoo couldn't breathe. She was vomiting blood. The doctors said it was anxiety and her sickness acting up. Jisoo was advised not to do strenuous activity. Their tacit agreement to relieve their agony was more harmful than helpful.

Jisoo was in a daze. Looking at her made Jungkook's stomach cramp. The silence was suffocating him, too. Jungkook knew how to butter her up regarding business, but outside you, their pain, and Bighit, Jungkook and Jisoo didn't have much in common.

They were strangers who loved the same person and shared similar problems. What happened last night changed it for the worse.

Jungkook couldn't handle it anymore. He spoke.

"I'm gonna tell her."

The braid of promise from last night was combed just like that. Jisoo slowly turned her head to Jungkook, her eyes dead, and her lips were parted slightly.

Jisoo didn't say anything. She simply cupped her stomach before gently lying in bed. She turned her back to Jungkook, sick of his face already. She got what she wanted.

Jungkook sighed. He stayed in Jisoo-unnie's room for hours until he got the signal from the nurse that Jisoo could go home.

Jisoo didn't want to go home. There was no going back now. Not for Jungkook, though. He had problems he had to face, so he went home.

His home no longer felt safe after what he and Jisoo did. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to sleep, the panic and grief catching up to him every time he closed his eyes.

He avoided you like the plague, thinking that things were better off when he was alone. After all, you wouldn't understand what he was going through.

You hadn't met those immigrant kids. You didn't know what Jungkook and Jimin were fighting for. Most importantly, you didn't know what it felt like to be on top and to suddenly fall from grace.

Jungkook could almost taste it: the venom in your voice when he told you his business with Jimin had failed. He could imagine the ‘I told you so’ look painting your eyes. He could also imagine you telling him he should have just stuck to university.

Jungkook didn't really want to see you. He didn't want to see and hear about yourdisappointment in him.

But Jungkook ended up hearing it—only that with a different reason. Jungkook wasn't expecting you to show up at Bighit’s board meeting. He underestimated your capability to get what you wanted. It never occurred to him that you would buy Ango's share just so you could legally attend the meeting.

It was ridiculous. At that moment, Jungkook thought you had come to rub salt in his wound. Why else would you show up there? There was no reason for you to buy a losing share. Jungkook knew you. You would never bet your money on something risky. You didn't even want to invest in the Bighit in the first place. You only did so to appease Jungkook after your previous fight from before.

When you showed up at the meeting, Jungkook made himself think that you had bad intentions, so he hurt you first. He told you he slept with your Jisoo-unnie just because he didn't want to hear you talk shit about Bighit’s downfall.

He thought his belief was warranted because when things truly started going down, you were nowhere to be found.

It was all good at first. Jungkook thought it was better this way. Because more than anything, and despite Jungkook being fucked in the head for betraying you, Jungkook wanted you safe and worry-free. This was why he and Jisoo sought solace in each other's body. They didn't want to involve you in a mess.

In their own fucked up way, Jungkook and Jisoo loved you.

Jungkook never heard from you again after confessing his betrayal. He tried to reach you, but the case of Bighit was beyond saving. Jungkook, along with Jimin, was facing the consequences:

"When will Mushitaro arrive, Jimin-hyung?" Jungkook's skin felt itchy. The unforgiving cold wall rubbed his body, only proving to him that their current predicament was truly pitiful. He and Jimin were both grown men forced to be cramped into a small jail cell. It smelt rotten here.

Jimin couldn't do anything to appease his friend, though. He scratched his skin and was also getting agitated by the overall atmosphere of the place. "I'm not sure, Jungkook-ssi."

Three hours had passed since the police officers arrested Jimin and Jungkook. They were two different people, but Jimin said they would be having a joint lawyer. Mushitaro, their chosen representative, had yet to arrive after Jimin contacted him earlier. The law enforcers refused to let them call again.

Jungkook was antsy and feeling aggrieved. Though Mushitaro was representing him too, he still had the right to call someone—you. It was unfortunate that the officers were treating him like shit. Jungkook couldn't complain. This wasn't like the last time the police invited them over. They had an arrest warrant now, leaving him and Jimin no choice but to have their hands cuffed. It had been a few days since their last board meeting. Their other board members flew out of the country, but it didn't matter. Almost all of Bighit’s operations were handled by Jungkook and Jimin. They couldn't escape liability even if they wanted to.

This was made clear a few hours later when Mushitaro finally arrived. The lawyer knew what he was doing. Jungkook and Jimin were transferred into a much bigger room, and they were given a cup of cold water to cool down.

Jungkook normally kept his cool. He was a manipulator at best. Surely, he had thought of a way to get out of this mess. Unfortunately, the laws were difficult to circumvent as Bighit’s operation extended to illegal immigrants.

"Piercing the what?" You interrupted Jungkook's storytelling when you didn't understand the legal terms. Jungkook was at the part where he was repeating what Mushitaro had told him years ago.

Jungkook took a bite of his crab spring rolls as he responded to you, "Piercing the corporate veil."

You struggled to listen to him. Jungkook explained that companies usually had limited liability, meaning that their obligations couldn't be passed down to their board directors and stockholders. In short, if the assets of the company reached zero in value but still had some liabilities, the creditors couldn't run after stockholders like him and Jisoo.

However, with the piercing of the corporate veil, the general rule would not apply. Jungkook and Jimin were going to prison.

"The probability of Jimin-hyung and I being convicted at that time was high. That's how piercing the corporate veil works. We are both board members who oversee the operations of Bighit. We can't argue that we don't know what's happening in our company when our signatures are mostly needed in our transactions."

Jimin's boyfriend, Francis Fitzgerald, was also a board member of Bighit. Francis was a certified public accountant, so naturally, he dealt with the company's financial statements. Unbeknownst to Jungkook and the others, Francis used the company's money for his own gain and concealed the fact that the Bighit was incurring debt.

"But why are you affected by it? Isn't it solely that son of a bitch Francis' fault?" You questioned. Jungkook's chest heaved as he repeated to you what Mushitaro had said. This whole thing was still painful to talk about, but:

Generally, Jungkook and Jimin were not liable since corporations like Bighit, weren't similar to partnerships where the board members had a fiduciary relationship. Jungkook might not be the one who orchestrated the fraud, but he concealed it after finding out the truth.

You scoffed at this. But in Jungkook's defense, he and Jimin only concealed the fraud because they were trying to protect their employees.

Bighit was a business process outsourcing organization. The people they hired to take calls and be in the customer service department were the same illegal immigrants underground. Jungkook and Jimin wanted to give these people a chance at living, so they helped fake their documents and hire them.

They were good at their jobs. Jungkook never hesitated to give them a profit share and higher benefits, especially for their retirement fund. Fitzgerald embezzled the money that was supposed to be for the employees. Even their legal reserves that weren't allowed to be used or to be distributed were gone.

Jimin signed documents and trusted the auditors Fitzgerald hired. Meanwhile, Jungkook blindly followed where Jimin was going. He was getting billions of money in the beginning, so he didn't mind. What more could he ask for, knowing that their employees and their families were basically worshipping Jungkook?

When things started going downhill, Jungkook was caught off guard. He was imprisoned with Jimin, and all his assets had been frozen. Mushitaro did his best to defend them, but this was a case that enraged the public. He also couldn't milk enough money from his clients so in the end, he did the bare minimum just to have the case closed.

It was difficult. Mushitaro was being harassed by Bighit’s employees too. Most of them were deported, while the other went into hiding. They threatened the lawyer to pass their messages to his clients, saying that they wished Jungkook and Jimin to both rot in hell and that they made their lives worse. They were doing okay underground, but now they couldn't even spend time with their deported family members, and they were hiding much stricter under the police's noses.

The employees said they wanted their backpay and promised retirement funds. Once, Jungkook was visited by someone in prison. The police officer said his visitor went by your name, so Jungkook cleaned himself up for the first time in days and immediately went to see you.

But you were nowhere to be seen. Jungkook came face to face with a Bighit employee instead. No one knew how the immigrant managed to bring a knife with him, but he did. He was raging when he slashed Jungkook's eyes with a knife.

The officers were quick to seize the immigrant while some of the guards went to attend to Jungkook. He was obviously shocked. He covered his eye, feeling the blood trickling down his hand. He heard loudly how the immigrant cursed and told him to die.

That was the beginning of Jungkook covering his eye with a bandage and the hell he'd face in prison.

"Wait." You grabbed your best friend's hand to get him to stop talking. It was all in the past now, yet you couldn't seem to take it. You also had too many questions.

"Y-You went to jail after I flew to France? Where..." You stuttered a breath and trailed off, feeling your heart clench tightly in your chest. Your ramen had gone cold now. You didn't have the stomach to eat it. All you could think about while looking at your spicy red broth was the blood cascading down Jungkook's eye from before.

Regret poked at the pit of your stomach. You wanted to vomit, but you couldn't. This wasn't about you. It was about Jungkook. You bit your lip and forced yourself to ask, "Where was Jisoo-unnie...? She....she didn't help you?"

Didn't she tell you I was gone? Despite leaving and not wanting to deal with bullshit, you made sure to leave traces so that Jungkook and Jisoo would know where you went off to. Sue you for being a hypocrite, but you were desperate then. You wanted your best friend and sister to see you thriving in spite of their absences in your life. You were pretty sure Jisoo managed to find your address in France because of the clues you left.

You hated your sister, but at the same time, you craved her validation and longed to see the pain in her eyes as you hurt her back.

Why didn't Jisoo tell the convicted Jungkook about your whereabouts?

"Jisoo-noona and I never talked to each other again after...." Jungkook didn't complete his statement, yet you understood it. After we betrayed you. Their last proper conversation was when Jungkook told you that he slept with Jisoo.

They didn't exactly talk at the hospital when Jungkook brought Jisoo there. However, Jisoo showed up at Jungkook's door a few days after you left. She brought a bottle of wine and soju.

Jungkook resolutely refused the offer, almost slamming the door in the older woman's face.

"I can't, Jisoo-noona," he held the doorknob tightly. "I'm not going to drink anymore." Not after what happened. Not after we fucked up. Not in this lifetime.

Jisoo understood what he meant, though she still deflated. Her pain was too much. Her body felt like deteriorating. Her chest was hollow. She begged, "We're not going to do something stupid, Jungkook. I'm just lonely. My little girl isn't answering any of my phone calls."

She had the audacity to get sad after what she had done, but Jisoo was just human, after all. She couldn't take the separation from her sister. She missed you despite everything. Talking to Jungkook gave Jisoo the illusion that you were still within reach.

Jungkook couldn't deny it, either. He missed his best friend, too, but he knew he messed up. He had a lot on his plate right now and couldn't be bothered to carry more burden and guilt by hanging out with Jisoo.

Besides, Jungkook knew his free days were numbered. He couldn't keep involving your sister in this mess, so days after his arrest and that immigrant slashing his eye, Jungkook wrote to Jisoo. He told her not to visit or associate with him as many of Bighit’s employees were indignant with him and would lash out at anyone close to him. Jungkook also told her to extend the same explanation to you.

Jungkook wrote to you every day, yet he didn't get any response. He assumed you really didn't want anything to do with him anymore. It was both a relief and a shame.

Despite everything, Jungkook continued writing to you. It wasn't to get you to visit him or anything. His days in prison became slightly bearable every time he let out his emotions through his letters.

The messages were mostly nonsensical—at least, this was how it started. Jungkook would reminisce about your moments together, tell you about his life in prison--how he was coping with his Jimin-hyung there, and how much he missed you.

Jungkook thought it wasn't that bad until he started receiving letters from people underground. The immigrants were still feeling resentful toward him and Jimin. They detailed how worst their lives had become after being deported. Those who were hiding in South Korea managed to hide their identity, but the blame and pressure were palpable in their letters.

Even the kid who clung to Jungkook’s legs before sent him an alarming message:

My mother hanged herself. I alone now. Blame you giving false hope. You break me. The letter was written childishly. The kid forced himself to write in Korean despite knowing too little about the language. Jungkook took the letter to heart. He couldn’t sleep nor eat. And it wasn’t like there was something to fill his stomach with.

New prisoners were treated like garbage. Jungkook spent his days two cells away from Jimin. He got away from the immigrants wanting to hurt him, but the people in prison were much worse.

“You stink,” Jungkook’s cellmate spat on his face. He hadn’t eaten in two days, his mouth smelling like rotten fish and acid. Jungkook managed to get a small cup of miso soup by massaging the kitchen head’s feet for two hours. Unfortunately, Jimin didn’t know how to navigate a life in prison. He was too righteous, igniting the anger of most prisoners. He wasn’t given any ration, so Jungkook set aside his hunger and gave Jimin-hyung the soup.

“Pardon me, boss.” Jungkook didn’t wipe the spit on his cheek and just bowed his head obediently. “I’ll stay in the corner, but you can call me any time you need something. I will do anything for you.”

It was the lowest of the low, but Jungkook had to swallow his pride. This person he called boss had a lot of food stash. He was quite popular in this place. Many prisoners tried to curry favor with him. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to please him. People like him got an ego boost whenever they thought they were being worshipped. True enough, he clicked his tongue and threw a KitKat bar to Jungkook.

“Eat that for now. Come sit with me at the table during lunchtime. Ya gotta eat, your breath will kill me.”

“Thank you, boss.” Jungkook ate half of the chocolate and saved the other half for Jimin. The boss shook his head disapprovingly. He thought Jungkook was stupid. He used the little money he had to buy papers so he could write a letter for someone outside the prison, and yet. The boss shook his head one more time, and yet he never received a response.

“I didn’t receive any of your letters.” You interrupted the storytelling again. “Where did you send them? How…” How stupid are you to think I could ever bear to see you suffer? Do you really think it would take me more than two letters to respond to you? But you didn’t say any of this. It would break Jungkook’s heart more. You changed your question, “What did you write to me?”

Jungkook didn’t have any appetite anymore, either. But reminiscing his life in prison made him want to stuff all the food before him in his mouth.

“I was told you got my letters.”

Life in prison started to get better when Jungkook started buttering up Fukuchi—the boss, though he had to face some initiation at first.

Jungkook couldn’t refute anything. He was tired of deep diving in the sea of the prison’s garbage truck just to get him and Jimin something to eat. Jimin joined his food-searching quest, but he wasn’t much of a help.

“You’re making this harder for me, Jiminnie-hyung ~ Can you just sit there and watch out for the prison guard, hmm~?” Jungkook maintained his sweet tone in spite of his exhaustion. He had to remind himself that Jimin-hyung was hurt; hence, he couldn’t move fast. His cellmates had beaten him up again. They said they didn’t like the way Jimin looked when they admitted to using his toothbrush to clean the floor. His cellmate's exact words were, “You should be thankful we’re cleaning our space with your damn toothbrush. Aren’t you acting all pure and shit? Your saliva is our holy water. Save us, Saint Jiminnie.”

The precious nickname Jungkook made up for Jimin was now tainted. They laughed and kicked Jimin when the latter told the officer what his cellmates did to his toothbrush.

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to tell Jimin to just let it go. But at the same time, he felt like Jimin-hyung should have known better than to fight those idiotic cellmates of his. He was both frustrated and empathetic toward his friend. All he could do for Jimin was search for some food on his behalf.

Thankfully, Jimin listened and watched out for guards as Jungkook swam in the sea of garbage. He found a half-eaten pudding and handed it to Jimin.

“It’s expired,” Jimin said. They weren’t in the position to be picky, so Jungkook only beamed at him.

“I haven’t met anyone who died because of expired food. Come on, Jiminnie-hyung.~ That would do.” Jimin was on the verge of passing out. His face was pale, and his lips were chapped. He needed to eat something. With a few more coaxing from Jungkook, Jimin finally swallowed the expired pudding.

He felt a little better for a while, but Jungkook had terrible luck—his words were jinxed a few hours later. Someone from Jimin’s cell banged the gate, calling the officer’s attention to report Jimin’s state.

“Heyo! Anybody there? The blond lad right here is dyin'. We don’t want his rotten corpse in here. Help!”

Jungkook jolted awake at that. He desperately stuck his head on his cell gate, hoping to see Jimin-hyung. His action was for nought, so he helped bang the gate to get the officers’ attention, too. Fortunately, the guards appeared and were able to bring Jimin to the hospital. Jungkook would never forget the image of his friend curled into a ball while clenching his stomach. He was vomiting as he got food poisoning from eating the expired pudding.

It was a blessing in disguise, though. Jimin was able to eat slightly better food at the hospital. Jungkook swore he would never let his friend suffer again. His choice led to some drastic consequences, but he couldn’t care less:

He sought Fukuchi’s protection for his and Jimin’s sake. The initiation was hell. To Jungkook’s horror, even the correctional officers licked Fukuchi’s bottom. Everyone turned into a slave when money and power were involved. They did not bat an eyelash when Jungkook ran around the prison hallway. A group of prisoners chased after him while the others stayed locked up in their cells, watching menacingly through the crack of the gated cell how moronically Jungkook ran.

Jungkook was in the shower room. He slipped and fell because of the wet tiles marred by mold. The prisoners caught up to him. They dragged Jungkook’s already fragile body to the ground.

"Don't make trouble." Someone pressed Jungkook’s face to the floor until he couldn't breathe properly, and then he felt that person grabbing his hand, his fingertips caressing Jungkook's wrist. "It'll hurt more if you resist."

The brunet felt the syringe sinking deep into his skin. It hurt at first— but soon, it only tickled. His heart started beating so loudly that he thought it would burst inside his ribcage. His vision was doubling, too, but the euphoria pumping through his veins made him lose his inhibitions. Every emotion was amplified. Jungkook giggled when someone took off his pants, spreading his legs wide until he felt a police baton sinking deep into his hole.

Jungkook screeched. There was blood everywhere, yet the prisoners did not stop. He lost count of how many times the syringe corrupted his bloodstream. Every hole of his body (his ears, nose, mouth, and even eyes) was coated with the sticky liquid coming from those men.

His body was painted with nasty teeth marks. The shades of blue, purple, and green were such a sore in the eyes that Jungkook had to cover his body with bandages even after months of the attack. It fucked him so badly, but he could only swallow his grievances for his and Jimin’s sake.

At least now, they were not treated like trash. They had full meals now, and Fukuchi grew more satisfied with Jungkook’s mind. One day, Fukuchi introduced him to someone outside the prison.

“Lee Sung.” The outsider offered his hand for a shake. Jungkook was forced to accept the greeting. Lee Sung was a sadist at heart, though. A blade was hidden in his palm. It slashed Jungkook’s skin when they shook hands.

“You look alive. Aren’t you using the dead apple?” Lee Sung let go of the brunet’s hand, acting as if he hadn’t just caused Jungkook’s hand to trickle down with blood.

Jungkook was unfazed. He gently wiped his bloodied hand in his pants. He lied through his teeth, “Well, someone has to be sober for this, don’t you think, Lee Sung-ssi~? We can’t all be Snow White.”

‘Dead Apple’ was the drug injected into Jungkook on the day of his initiation. The effect of the drug was unapparelled, bringing the user into a different universe because of the ‘high’ feeling. It was called Dead Apple because the users would often lose consciousness or act like hypnotized zombies who would do your bidding as long as you hit something inside of them. For example, Jungkook saw Jimin through rose-colored glasses, so one of the prisoners who injected him with Dead Apple pretended to be Jimin and Jungkook, under the effect of the drug, fell into this pretense and didn’t question whatever those men did to him. It was only after some hours after the assault did he come back to his senses. 

Coming to his senses didn’t necessarily mean he would forget the assault. He remembered it all too well, and nothing—not even the unadulterated euphoria would convince Jungkook to try it again. He associated that drug with his loss of freedom and more hatred for his already wretched body. One could call him a hypocrite because despite knowing the deadly effect of Dead Apple, it did not stop him from letting other people have access to it.

Life, especially in prison, was not like a fairytale. The initiation he had to be part of Decay of Angels—Fukuchi’s group, wasn’t enough to prove he was worthy. Jungkook had to strategize to keep Fukuchi’s business prospering. He was in charge of thinking of ways to supply the other inmates with drugs while making sure the higher-ups would not suspect a thing. Some officers were part of this scheme, but not all of them could turn a blind eye. Truthfully, Jungkook had been devising plans to get the officers already in this plan to keep supporting them.

Fukuchi soon realized how essential Jungkook was to this whole ordeal, so from being a chess piece, Jungkook was promoted to king. He had the privilege now to meet members of Decay of Angels who were not in prison.

Lee Sung was present at this meeting. He was tasked to get a feel of the king in prison. One look and Lee Sung already knew Jungkook was dangerous. Lee Sung had to find a way to break him.

“And how does staying sober benefit the Decay of Angel, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook tilted his head as he raised his hand to show his five fingers, “Five percent.”

Lee Sung was quick to snort at the number. Fukuchi came to the rescue, “Lee Sung, I know it sounds insignificant, but do note that Jungkook-ssi right here has been in this game for only a few days.” He also explained that the officer who had been eyeing the Decay of Angels had been transferred to another jurisdiction, all thanks to Jungkook’s effort.

Now, the drug dealing in Incheon was much more free. 

Lee Sung finally looked pleased because of this. He jutted his chin out, “Very well, then, Jungkook-ah.~ Just tell me what prize you want, I can give it to you.~”

Jungkook jumped into the offer at once. He wrote a name on a piece of paper and handed it to Lee Sung. The latter laughed, thinking that Jungkook wanted someone killed. That could easily be arranged, but the brunet was enigmatic. Lee Sung never would have thought that someone could be this stupidly sweet.

“Consider it done,” Lee Sung stood up and saluted. Sometime later, Jungkook received a letter from Gogol. It contained printed photos of a kid smiling while holding hands with his adopted parents.

Choi Yeonjun. Did you like his new name, Jungkook-ah? The bottom of the letter said.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. The kid who clung to his leg was okay now. Jungkook couldn’t stop with just this, though. Every time he did something for the benefit of the Decay of Angels, he would ask Lee Sung to grant him the favor of helping the previous employees of Bighit. Unfortunately, his efforts were not enough. He slowly incurred a lot of debt to Lee Sung. The latter said it wasn’t his money. It was his boss who lent Jungkook the money.

The death threats toward him and Jimin lessened, too. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin. He confronted Jungkook about it, knowing well that his friend was behind this. Jungkook had always been one step ahead of everything. Sadly, he was not one to make rational choices.

It was easy for Jimin to figure it all out. Jungkook would sometimes joke that Jimin could see the future, therefore giving him the ability of flawless. “Your conjecture has always been flawless, Jiminnie-hyung~!” Jungkook used to tell him.

It wasn’t any different now. Jungkook was being treated like a God in prison these days. He had the privilege to sit beside Fukuchi, and Jimin was not blind not to see the rampant spread of Dead Apple. In fact, one of his cellmates offered him to try the drug. Jimin firmly refused. He easily connected the dots, and when his conjecture had truly become ‘flawless,’ he then confronted Jungkook.

“This is dangerous, Jungkook. You have to stop.” Jimin was not one to resort to violence, but he couldn’t help but grab the younger man’s shirt and slam him against the wall. “You are dealing with illegal drugs, for Pete’s sake. Aren’t you afraid? You only have a few months in your sentence. Don’t make a decision that would harm you.”

I’m doing this for you. Jungkook wanted to shake Jimin. I’m doing this for the people who used to believe in us. I can’t abandon them. You said they’re important to you. I just want to make you happy, Jimin-hyung.

However, vulnerability and truth didn’t sit well with Jungkook. He wriggled out of Jimin’s grasp. “Just trust me, Jiminnie-hyung.”

Jungkook was in too deep. He needed to pay his debts to Lee Sung’s boss, save some money for himself, and start all over again. Their sentence was only reduced because the Decay of Angels paid some of his dues. They were billions of yen as their case impacted the Korean economy.

Jungkook wanted to reclaim his life and maybe…maybe see you again.

You still hadn’t responded to any of Jungkook’s letters, but he didn’t plan on giving up. He tripled the letter he sent, hoping that you would find it annoying and finally reply to him. He would take anything from you, even if it was just pure hatred.

Everything would be okay in no time. He would be out in prison with Jimin soon, so he smiled at his friend, thinking that Jimin understood him.

Except that he didn’t. 

Jungkook had no one else to blame—

Only himself.

He should have known Jimin wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. He wouldn’t blindly trust Jungkook when the well-being of other people was involved. It didn’t matter if they were prisoners. Jimin wouldn’t want these people to harm themselves more.

Jimin was righteous. He couldn’t just watch Jungkook destroy himself and the others, so he did what he thought was right: he told a police officer about the drug scheme in prison.

What a joke.

Did he really think he could make a difference? The police officer nodded along with Jimin, even escorting him to where he could report such a crime.

Jimin sighed in relief. He thought he could sleep well that night, but he couldn’t.

Jimin wasn’t escorted to report the crime. He was stuck in the giant walk-in freezer in the prison’s kitchen.

At five twenty-four in the morning, Park Jimin was found dead. 

********

A/N: Hello. It's been almost a month since I last updated. I hope you still remember this fic ~~

I know this chapter is upsetting. :(( I'm sorry, there might...? be more to come.

Also, a little update: life is being a total bitch to me. I have a hard time adjusting at work, and would sometimes use the little free time I have to just cry. It was a public holiday in my country last Friday and this coming Monday, but being in accounting means having no break. I still need to work :// My health is being compromised lately as I am working the night shift. It's super stressful because almost everyone around me keeps saying that I am losing too much weight. I KNOW it already :((( anyway, I'm rambling. Please tell me your thoughts about this chapter.

If you feel like dropping this fic, please do so! But please be kind in the comment or don't tell me at all.

Thank you ~~ See you next time! (Hopefully soon, but damn it's quarter close next month, so I will probably be busy waahhh)

Got more suggestions about the tag/warnings? Feel free to tell me. The goal here is to be more mindful.

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Cry'n

Joel Miller x reader

Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Shout out to the girlies in the Whorefully yours discord for encouraging my dark side lol

Summary: Joel kidnapps you, but can't even wait long eough to put his dick inside you to cum. (Reader is rather Little One coded but this is a completetly separate fic from The Wrong Way)

Warnings and Content: NON CON, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!!!!! Hair pulling, kidnapping, masturbation, cumming on face, dirty and degrading talk, crying, dacryphilia, Joel is really psycho in this, maybe a lil off his rocker. Implied future abuse. Literally like so much crying.

DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ! If you do not wish to see rape on your feeds at all, i suggest blocking the tags such as non con, dddne, dead dove do not eat, and depending on preferences maybe dub con, yandere, or dark fics. No judgement if its not your thing!

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

Your head hurts. So bad. That was all you could think about as Joel dragged you off his house and up the porch by your hair with no regard for how you were supposed to keep up with his long stride. Scalp on fire, you scramble to stand but it seemed he would purposefully yank at you just to make you stumble. 

You can hear him smiling as he speaks, the outline of his cheeks giving away the wide grin if you can look up long enough to catch a glimpse. “Pretty fucking girl. Gonna make such a nice little toy.” 

He doesn’t care that you're crying. He doesn’t care that he took you away from everything you know. He doesn’t care that you are scared. He wants to use you.

Your hands are tied behind your back so you fall on your face when he trusts you onto the shitty mattress, dirt being inhaled into your lungs.

“Just gotta be good for a few days, pretty baby, ‘till I get tired of you and move onto the next shiny thing. Think you can manage that?”

Sobbing, you nod. You can do this. You can…

Your confidence wavers as he stands above you, palming himself and moaning. “Oooohhh fuck, such a pretty little baby, uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhuhuhuuuh” Joel sucks his breath in through his teeth, then shutters it out. “Get the fuck over here.” Joel reaches over and yanks on your hair again, pressing your face up against his jeans-clothes crotch. His musk was strong, the smell of his dick was sweaty and masculine and you could not help but feel just a little turned on. You couldn’t help it; it was biological, primal, evolutionary. 

With your hands still tied behind your back, you were helpless to the way Joel ground your face up against himself, his hard cock prominent despite the stiff material. Fingers entangled in your hair, Joel trust his hips up in your face as you sob, “Fuck baby, keep cry’n, I can feel your tears on my dick.” Joel pressed you tightly up against his crotch, your mouth pressed over the outline of his member and muffled your cries as they turned into attempts to scream. You wanted to bite but you knew better.

When he finally let go, allowing you to sit back on your haunches and breath, Joel unzipped his pants and thrust them and his tighty whitey’s down in one go, his massive cock hanging heavy between his legs. A sick man, Joel gripped your face in his large, rough hands to gather up the wetness before he fucked his fist. 

“God, I need to cum right fuck’n now” He grumbled to himself as he furiously pumped the extensive length. “Ain’t got time to- oh fu-u-u-ck, ain’t got time to fight your pants off.” Joel lets out a loud groan, bucking his hips as his breath shutters before looking down at your crying and shaking figure. “Oh fuck, you look so scared!” He has the audacity to chuckle, smiling at you as he gently nudges you with his boot just to see you cry more. He jerked harder and harder, his cock red and throbbing inches from your face. “There we go, fuuuuuck! Uh, uh, uuuhhhggg” Ropes of white began to spurt out of him, Joel grunting aggressively mixed with huffed out chuckles, a wide, joker-like grin on his face as his eyes sparkled with mischievous possibilities for the future.

Joel took his softening dick and wiped your tears and his cum with it. “Pretty little thing… goddamn… make’n me cum without even touching me, fucking fantastic.” 

You feel the wetness on your face, a mixture of fluids painting you up like a picture. 

Joel pushed you down onto the bed, not even bothering to pull up his pants as he pulled you on his naked body, sighing. He takes a knife out of his pocket, however, and cuts off your ties. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him as you cry. You just wanted to be held, to feel touch and comfort and you didn’t care who it came from. “Oh god, princess…” He’s panting still, a crazy grin plastered upon his face as he stared up at the ceiling, laughing to himself. “Such pretty skin, such a pretty face…” Joel chuckled, long fingers massaging down your still-clothed body. 

“Gonna be a lot of fun playing with it.”

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

First dark! joel one shot ina while, woozers.

Love me my crazy man.

Got a cool ask today for a dark triple frontier Will Miller that I loooooove that I will be working on after a few other WIPS.

Also got an idea for a dark!joel sugar daddy yandere vibes fic, a dark!William Tell, and a dark!Nathan Bateman. I also plan to work on a short series (3 parts maybe?) of a darker ending to tww where Joel wins.

If you like this, click the link at the top to be added to my ongoing tag list!

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@hereforthepedrofanfic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and maybe @toxicanonymity might enjoy.....

[reliquaryofflesh]

Corpse reanimated by a sex demon so now they’re a zombie in heat!!

Prowling around in search of a mate to breed with, chasing and pinning them down and having their way with them, mindlessly fucking them until they’re too exhausted to continue after cumming so many times!

[dramioneasks]

The Handkerchief - Gr8t_78 - E, 140 chapters, Words: 400,277 - **this work is entirely canon compliant** The years at Hogwarts were a trying time for Harry Potter, but he was not the only wizard to experience trials and tribulations over those years. Draco Malfoy, pureblood and heir to two Noble and Ancient Houses within the Sacred 28, finds himself in a secret relationship with a muggle born witch. If his father or his fellow Slytherins found out, he's certain things won't end well for either of them. But his draw to this witch is too great. Following the perspective of Draco beginning in the first year, we see all of the things that Harry missed over the years, namely that his best friend was secretly dating his rival the entire time. How will it all end?

[eesirachs]

there is no biblical word for rape, only a word for non-con. and this word—עָלַל—means literally, to drink again, to return to take a mouthful (in sumerian, A.LAL is a waterskin, a non-anatomical womb). rape elides into non-con, which elides into taking small sips out of something shaped like a womb. here, rape is mimicked, evinced, a thing of excess and leak, but in tissue and text it is never named. this is why it matters that עָלַל means taking a second sip: the first drink comes from the bodies within the text, the second comes from our own. we are not voyeurs to this non-con, and the violation is ours as well

[konigsblog]

Thoughts on ex bf König who refuses to acknowledge the breakup?

TW: NON-CON/RAPE, STALKING, SOMNOPHILIA. MDNI 18+

Missed calls, unanswered texts, and constant gift giving. It's all an attempt to win you over. König doesn't want to believe that it's over, not after years of his life dedicated to you.

He simply doesn't understand. If you ask him about the cheating, the toxicity, and the constant arguments that were neverending, he'll act dumbfounded, as if this is all coming straight from your arse. König doesn't let you date others. He's still as overly possessive and protective of you as he was when you were dating each other. König isn't the kind-hearted, sweet boy you once knew. He's a manipulative, crazy bastard.

When you speak to another man at a party, he'll give them a death glare from afar. You watch as their eyes widen as they look up at the 6’10” man towering above you. He's ruining your chances at loving again, all because of his selfish behaviour and his inability to let you go.

He still has a key to your house from when you gave it to him months ago, before your breakup. He uses it to sneak inside. He'll part your lips and push your jaw open, jerking off his meaty, thick, and wide cock while sweat and cum drips onto your tongue and face. He lets out strings of his creamy arousal onto your tongue, using whatever is left to fuck into your slick pussy. You swallow it instinctively after being taught by the best, König. He pushes no more than an inch past the tip inside, his cockhead oozing into your folds and his eyes rolled back as he humps your little cunt. Your body jolts and shakes when he rubs his sweaty, hot, and bulbous dick against your clit, knocked out cold and completely unaware of this sick behaviour.

He cleans it up well. You already know that König can't go without eating you out, at least once a day. Perhaps that's why you still feel so raw and violated in the morning, even after months of your breakup.

König knows that you'll come crawling back to him when you're impregnated, needing his wealth to support yourself and the baby inside of your stomach.

[tellmeallaboutit]

What made you write hwll? What gave you the idea of it?

I always liked Raphael but your fic is definitely the one that made me feral for him. (I'm sick I know)

Ohhh what a question thank you!

So. My Tav came to the House of Hope and ransacked this place. Did the whole program. Fucked the incubus, cleaned out the vaults, freed Hope, stole the Hammer, and, of course, called Raphy-Taffy a two pump chump.

Then I lost the battle in 3 turns. So I looked at the “your party died” pop-up and thought, okay, but what would this lovely, kind, merciful man, this “you-know-how-Raphael-likes-to-play” man, the guy who clearly (at least to me) doesn’t really give a rat’s ass about consent judging by the way he stripped Astarion and what he did to Hope would do to my Tav after such a stunt.

Yeah, I thought, non-con, but not the “you get to come” type of non-con, not even the mind fuck type of non-con because he is just too pissed. More like you can throw up on the floor if you didn’t bother to learn to deep throat and you can have my spit as lube while I “introduce you to the pleasures of sodomy” (c) kind of guy.

After the dark violent deed was done, I thought, what next? Long escape story and the villain dies in the end?

!!!! Spoiler below !!!!

No. I don’t want a “I spit on your grave” kind of story.

What kind of fucked up Tav can I have for her to stay with him in the end? Can I write her psychology in the way that that would actually make sense? So I invented Judith the vain, cruel aristocrat, Judith the violence addict, Judith “i-do-right-but-actually-want-to-do-wrong” the posh spoiled rotten girl that was raised to fit a certain role and found it.

I am flattered you liked Raphael in HWLL (by the way, he is different to Raphael in knock knock)! I tried to make him charismatic and weirdly attractive despite all his atrocious (no joke) deeds.

TL:R; I am just fucked up in the head.

[willedeservesbetter]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Young Royals (TV 2021) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Simon Eriksson/Wilhelm Additional Tags: Inspired by Interview With the Vampire, but it does not take place in the world of IWTV, please read the archive warnings, they all apply, Vampires, Dark fic, i am repeating myself: this is a dark fic, Major character death - Freeform, but not really, this is the beginning of a twisted love story Series: Part 1 of They Own the Night (The Young Royals Vampire Chronicles ) Summary:

The boy before him is close to death, Wilhelm begrudgingly notices. The pulse slowed down quite a while ago, the heart is beating weakly, and the skin is white despite the usually darker complexion.

Well, being drained of your blood for hours and hours and hours certainly leaves a mark, Wilhelm thinks smugly, and it is all because of him. What a shame it is the boy must die soon and cannot be kept around like a picnic basket, always ready and full and promising the best flavors of his blood.

This will be a night he will remember for a long time.

- or -

Wilhelm is a very powerful and old vampire who is having a great night with his newest victim. Simon disagrees. Kind of.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way Master List

Gif by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Raider!Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Spotify Playlist

Inspiration came from @toxicanonymity and her fantastic Raider!Joel.

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also refered to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

Unknown chapters at this point but heres a starter

Chapter 1: Joel takes you away from everything you know

Chapter 2: Joel takes what he wants, Tommy tries to make things easier

Bonus Chapter: Tommy takes Little One's virginity

Chapter 3: Joel softens up, and readers learns her roll in all this

Chapter 4: Little One is getting cocky, and finds herself in trouble, but Tommy and Joel are there for her

Chapter 5: Joel and Tommy don’t feel good

Suggested drabble: Period sex

Chapter 6: Things change with Tommy, and Joel shows a more vunerable side during a near disaster.

Chapter 7: Little One and Lorenzo spend some time together, and Lorenzo drops a bomb on Little One.

sick bonus chapter

Chapter 8: For 6 months of Little One's pregnancy her relationship with Joel and Lorenzo shifts and changes.

Suggested Drabble: Brotherhood

Chapter 9: The aftermath.

Suggested Drabble: “It Wasn’t Always Like This”

Chapter 10: The escape does not go as planned.

Alternate ending: a happier end

Canon Sequel Mini Series, Ghost of You

Follow Ellie's life sifting through to lies to discover the truth of her creation.

Dark Ending Timeline: Going Under

Going Under: Chapter 1:

Going Under: Chapter 2:

Going Under: Chapter 2.5:

Going Under: Chapter 3

Going Under: June and Tommy

Going Under: Chapter 4

Going Under: Finale

Suggested drabbles to see how the uncles are doing after the canon ending: Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy, and Better Than Revenge

If neither ending satisfied you or if there was something you wanted to see but didn’t, if you wanna write something in universe will be happy to link it to my masterlist!

Art by @melodymakesart

Drabbles, One Shots, Thots

Period Sex: Period sex with Joel makes Little One more confused than ever at what she is to Joel

Well, That’s Alright Because I Like The Way It Hurts: Joel is gone for longer than expected and you worry about him. When he comes back, you let him take his frustration out on your body

Brotherhood: Tommy and Joel reflect on their relationship as brothers.

“It Wasn’t Always Like This”: In Tommy’s arms, Little One thinks over her year with Joel

Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy: Lorenzo is slowly recovering, meets his niece for the first time

Better than Revenge: Lorenzo and Tommy can’t get revenge on Joel, but they can get revenge on the one who started it all

Zach and Lorenzo’s Wedding

Gateaway Car by Taylor Swift, thoughts by @fandxmslxt69

Art by @k-ra

Joel and Lorenzo by @fen-is-unwell

If this sort of thing doesn't interest you or triggers you, hide dub con and non con from your tags as I will be tagging any fics like that as such

Main Blog (filled with more normal fics lol): @romanarose

This is absolutely not anything anyone needs to do bc ur lovely comments are enough but if anyone makes a book board, art, a fic or anything based off this series, you absolutely can! I know some creators aren’t for it but I love when people do that, and I’ve written a few fics for a few series myself. If you are so inclined and are okay with it, I’ll attach them to this master list (that includes if you don’t like my endings you can make your own 😂)

But as always, nice comments mean the world. I know with this sort of content you may not want to Reblog it on your page, but if you leave a comment or send an anon, that means the world and keeps me writing!

[steddieunderdogfics]

Another one for no UD AU weekend:

Dream a little dream by @roguedork - Eddie’s a sex worker and the UD is a night club owned by Henry, it's such a cool concept.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56901577

Dream a little dream by roguedork

@roguedork

Rating: Explicit

67,346 words, 9/18 chapters

Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con

Tags: No Beta, Sex Work, Period-Typical Homophobia, POV Eddie Munson, Inspired by Pretty Woman (1990), loosely, Fluff, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Eddie Munson, Top Steve Harrington, Oral Sex, Ass Play, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Size Kink, Pole Dancing, lap dance, Light Bondage, Rough Sex

Summary:

As a companion working at The Upside Down, Eddie Munson is no more than a puppet tangled in Henry Creel’s strings. To survive his abusive procurer, he gave up on dreaming a long time ago. That is, until Steve Harrington stumbled into his life outside of the city’s most nefarious underground nightclub. “Need a light, big boy?”

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is No Upside Down AUs.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!