#and it just makes me. rip tear bite kill

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Prologue

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Kinda Elain Bashing?, Low Self Esteem, Mention of Cauldron induced torture...

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

As far as cauldron-made went…Eira Archeron was pretty much useless. 

She had neither the power of Death nor of Divinity. 

She was neither the prettiest one, that title belonged to Elain…nor the smartest one, which was undoubtedly Nesta. Or the strongest one like Feyre…And if she had tried to hunt like Feyre, it would have been more likely that she would have accidentally killed herself instead of bringing home any meat. 

As a human, she had been limited to cooking and cleaning and laundry, all of it with limited supplies and even more limited experience. She had tried. It had never been enough. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her that her uselessness continued on even when she was no longer human.

So if she wasn’t beautiful or strong or smart…what was she then? 

The dumb one? 

When the cauldron had burned every bit of humanity out of her…when it had ripped away all her hopes and dreams…when it had been so angry with Nesta after whatever she had done to it that Eira was just…Eira was just an afterthought, something it could hurt in response to her sisters and then leave gasping on that stone floor feeling like she was dying…

She had done her best to accept her lack of humanity afterwards. Nesta had raged…Elain had said nothing, suffering silently in the bed…and Eira…Eira had tried. 

Tried to make it better…tried to make it easier for everybody around her. She had tried. 

She hadn’t wanted to put even more on Feyre’s shoulders, not with the threat of impending war…and so she had done her best to be supportive and make no trouble…be agreeable and quiet and be helpful…

But she couldn’t be helpful. 

She was nothing but a useless appendage. With no powers, no great destiny stretched in front of her…

Not even a limb. Not even a fucking pinky finger. 

More like a skin tag. 

Completely useless. If cut off, it wouldn’t even bother anybody. 

They had made that clear to her over time. 

They had made clear what they thought about her, again and again, and now…now she finally realised it. She was a slow learner…but by the gods, she did learn. 

It started…slow in a sense. Comments, made offhandedly, that probably weren’t meant that way anyway…sometimes said to her face…sometimes overheard. 

“Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.” Amren. After she had finally…after months felt like singing again as she fixed the hem on one of her sister’s dresses. She had stopped singing then.

Amren had never brought it up again. But then Amren had never been particularly nice to any of them.      

“Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.” Rhysand had told her drily when she insisted on visiting Nesta at the House of Wind every week after all of that had gone down… 

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?” Seethingly said by Nesta…pitted against the one thing she liked to pretend she was good at…the one thing she could do and make money with…

It cut. Of course, it did. But it wasn’t even the worst thing thrown at her head by Nesta…so why was it the one thing that stayed in her mind? 

“We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.” Cassian…overheard by Eira before the rest of them had gone off to Hewn City. Eira left behind because…well the contrast of Elain badly dressed was enough, no need for Eira to…be what? A distraction?  

And it was true too. Elain was the prettier twin sister. 

Eira was just…common as muck as her mother had liked to remind her…Nesta was the smart one, the one who would marry a prince…Elain would marry for love and beauty…and Eira…well, she would make a good farmer’s wife as far as her mother was concerned.

Not pretty enough to garner a richer man’s attention…not smart enough to drag herself up the echelons of society on her own…To easily content as far as her mother was concerned. 

“As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.” Morrigan. Said in jest. Eira was quite sure of that…still, it had hurt. Because it was true. She was useless. 

No magic sparking at her fingertips…Using her magic was like pulling teeth…painful and a long process…And it never did what she wanted anyway. 

“Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do,” Feyre had said with a sigh…after she had brought her sister cookies and tea…after she had only tried to get Feyre to take a break from her work. 

Eira hadn’t tried that again either. 

And then the one that clinched it: 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

Said by Elain…by her twin sister. She was frozen in place, staring at Elain wide-eyed as her sister sneered at her. 

 That was the last drop into an already overflowing bucket. 

Stress. Right? Just stress from wedding planning. Elain would have never said that usually. 

She wouldn’t have…

It was just…it was just stress…Just stress. 

Elain didn’t mean it like that. 

Right?

Elain flounced off…her wedding binder in tow…leaving Eira alone, sitting there, in the dining room, her chest aching. 

Eira was in a trance as she carefully put all the plates into one tidy stack…as she was thankful that it had just been her and Elain, every other person in their family busy with their mates or something else…Feyre and Rhysand gone with Baby Nyx for the evening…Nesta and Cassian off at the House of Wind…who knew what Mor and Amren were up to…

Or even Azriel. 

A sob threatened to take over, as she thought that name. 

She walked up the stairs…to her room…Her room. She locked the door with shaky hands. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

She collapsed on her bed, burying her face into her pillow and let the tears stream. 

Ridiculous puppy crush. 

All of that said because she had tried to talk to Elain about her choice of flowers for her wedding. Because lilies wouldn’t be in season when she married Lucien in Day Court in less than 2 months. 

And then Elain responded with that, because Eira clearly wanted to ruin her wedding with that factoid. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

The worst part of it was that it was the simple truth. 

Azriel was never going to pay her a second glance. 

He had always been more interested in Elain than Eira…he had on more than one occasion asked Eira questions about her twin sister…had made sure that Elain was comfortable and cared for…and Eira had sufficed as a source of information and nothing else. 

And after Elain and Lucien had become serious…well, Eira ceased to be interesting too. He hadn’t sought her out again. 

If she sat next to him at dinner, he was polite and quiet, bordering on silent. And then she tried to fill the silence and probably only annoyed him in the process. 

He didn’t want her. He never would. 

She starved down the sobs that wracked her body. 

It was probably high time that she accepted that, right?

High time to get over herself. 

High time that she reminded herself that…that she was never going to have him and that staring at him in ill-hidden affection only made everybody else make fun of her and probably made him deeply uncomfortable. 

So maybe it was better that she just…

At least he had never called her useless, she supposed. It could be worse…even when he never would want her. 

She felt the touch on her hand first…soft like velvet…like kitten fur…never warm, never cold. massive and somehow not… definitely not human. 

The shadows. His shadows. 

Sometimes they came to keep her company. At the start, she had thought that maybe he had sent them but nowadays she was quite sure that they had just liked her quiet singing while embroidery one afternoon. So quiet that nobody would hear.  It had taken her months to coax them out of their corners after that. They probably had just taken pity on her. 

Just like they did now. 

“Please don’t,” she choked out. She never wanted him to find out how she was feeling about him…never wanted to feel the pain of him outright turning her down. 

 And if his shadows came to check on her, they would report back in what they saw…and they didn’t need…didn’t need to worry about it. 

They never talked to her. Just sometimes they came and listened to her softly talk to them while she was sewing in the evening, about this and that...

It wasn’t right how she talked to you, the shadows whispered. 

They didn’t talk to her. Never. 

And now they did. 

Hell, even his shadows were feeling sorry for her, weren’t they? 

“Please don’t tell him,” she begged. 

He should know, they disagreed softly. Everybody should know. She should apologise to you. 

And what would that give her? Nothing. More embarrassment because everybody else got to hear all about her fledgling little feelings? Feelings she should bury deep and never examine again? 

“Please,” she begged again and the shadows seemingly surrendered, curling themselves up against her hands so that she could touch them. 

Don’t cry, they soothed her softly. Don’t give her that. 

Elain hadn’t said anything that was untrue. That was the worst part. It was true. And that hurt. 

Is there anything we could do? the shadows asked Eira softly. Anything at all to make this better? 

“No,” she whispered, choking out the words, another sob. Not anymore. There was nothing anybody could do. 

It hurt. It hurt so badly.  Just like the cauldron had.  Then she had wished she would die. 

Now…now she wondered the same once again. Maybe then it would stop feeling like this. 

She cried her eyes out, as the tears kept pouring over her cheeks…as she sobbed until her throat was raw and everything hurt. And finally, she just laid there…the shadows still swirling worriedly around her prone form. 

“Don’t you need to work?” she asked the shadows listlessly, tears tracking over her cheeks. “Don’t you have something more important to do than to try and comfort me?” 

Maybe take care of him?

You are important, the shadows snapped. 

Eira could argue that point. She was useless. So what did it matter? It didn’t. 

She wiped away the tears, but new ones just came pouring over her face and she stopped trying, let them run down her face and wondered how long she could stay in her room and never come out again. 

Would you like something to eat? the shadows tried again. So sweet. Trying to give her something, anything to comfort her. 

“No, thank you,” she whispered. Alone the thought made her want to throw up. 

She didn’t want to eat. 

She didn’t want to get up and talk to anybody. She didn’t want to even look at another person anymore. 

She didn’t…

What would you like then? The shadows tried softly. Would you like to plot revenge? they suggested. 

It was so stupid that she choked out a laugh. 

“For what? Elain saying what everybody else is thinking?” Eira asked, her heart painfully restricting. 

Nobody here actually wanted her around. If she disappeared forever she would do them a favour. Him especially. 

Elain had only said what everybody else was thinking. 

All three of her sisters had found their mates, just not Eira. All three of her sisters had some kind of power…just not her. All three of them had found some kind of place for themselves…and then there was her, living with her youngest sister, half seamstress, half nanny for her child, an unwanted appendage that was taken care of out of some feeling of duty and no other reason.

Elain had just voiced what she was thinking. The truth. 

It had been the truth. Plain and simple. And Eira maybe didn’t like to hear it but it didn’t…it didn’t matter. 

It was the truth. 

Elain had two men willing to marry her and spend the rest of their lives with her…and nobody wanted to spend any time with Eira. A husband wasn’t even something that had ever seemed to be a possibility. 

Even if everybody else is thinking, that doesn’t make it right. The shadows disagreed quietly. Your sister said that to hurt you and not for any other reason. 

“She’s stressed out with wedding planning,” Eira whispered. 

It had just been that. Probably. Maybe. 

That doesn’t make it right, the shadows disagreed again, twirling tighter around her wrist. We could ruin her wedding. Lilies and all, they suggested brightly. 

She shook her head. No. Elain should have the wedding she dreamed of. Eira wasn’t going to ruin it for her. 

“Don’t do that,” she said weakly.

We could at least steal her wedding binder, they told her mulishly, and Eira wondered if they disagreed like that with Azriel too.

Azriel…

What did it say about her that she fell head over heels in love with the first man who treated her with polite indifference? That she was so desperate to be loved that that was all it took? 

Did it matter? 

No. 

Elaine was right. He would never spare her a second glance. He was just as unreachable as any other male.

Nothing was enticing about Eira.  Neither her body, nor her mind, nor her magical power. What could she possibly offerany male? 

All the nightmares she had on a near-daily basis? All the fear and anxiety that swirling around her gut every day? 

She could sew on any buttons he lost along the way, she supposed. That was something.

The knife that plunged into her womb and twisted, took her by surprise. 

It shouldn’t have.  

Of course. 6 months had passed once again. 

“Don’t tell him this either,” she begged in a whimper. This was too embarrassing. He didn’t need to know about her cycle. 

Nobody did. She was the most modest out of all her sisters. The one with the most human ideas of what was considered to be decent, left…the only one who…

The only one left with her maidenhead intact, because everybody else was mated or married or very much in love and it had never mattered in Prythian anyway. 

Just Eira was left. 

Without a mate. Without a husband. 

Without ever having even been kissed. Nearly 26 and that…hadn’t happened for her. 

It probably would never happen anyway. 

Why today of all days? 

Why did her cycle need to torture her today?  How did she deserve this? Why not in a week…Though at least now she had a reason not to leave her bed for a few days.  

She could just stay here. 

Mope in her own Misery and self-pity…wallow in the pain that she knew would come…

Of course, it would. She had always had a horrible time during her cycle even as a human…as a Fae, it had become her very own personal torture. 

Maybe a bath would make you feel better, the shadows suggested softly as she already curled herself together in pain. 

She needed to get up and sort herself out before it got even worse…made sure that she wouldn’t get blood all over the sheets, but she couldn’t…She didn’t want to. 

And a bath…A stab of pure fear.  

“It’s like the cauldron,” Eira whimpered. Just like the cauldron. 

She didn’t bathe…she used buckets of water…even years later…still standing water was not something she could stand. Not without being reminded of her humanity being ripped away and traded for whatever this existence was. 

What if we make sure that it isn’t? the shadows asked her softly. It will be nothing like the cauldron, we promise. 

A bath…a hot bath that would help against the soreness of her muscles…that would maybe ease the cramps…

It did sound nice. So nice. 

So Eira just weakly nodded. 

That seemed to be all the agreement the shadows needed as they whisked her to the bathing chamber, in the blink of an eye.

She watched as they flitted about the room, turning on the water, dotting candles around the room, making it brightly lit with faelight and candlelight both. 

Lots of foam and bubbles appeared in the bathtub as well as numerous concoctions being poured into the water. 

She slowly toed off her shoes and opened the laces of her dress. Eira hesitated and the shadows disappeared, letting her undress in privacy…letting her walk to the bathtub and test the temperature…stare at it for a moment. 

It couldn’t look less like the cauldron if it tried. 

She waited for a stab of fear but nothing came. 

So she slid into it, let the warm water envelope her, the perfect temperature… A few tendrils of shadows came to keep her company, touching her chin so that she tipped her head back and they started to wash her hair for her. 

Eira couldn’t even remember the last time anybody had done that for her. 

And they did that…without even asking…just…just for her. 

“Thank you,” Eira whispered, not daring to close her eyes, but staring at the ceiling. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?” she asked weakly. “Isn’t your master going to be angry at you?” She didn’t want them to get into any trouble, just because they…they were taking care of her. 

You don’t want Master to find out, so he won’t, they said easily. Would you like some pain potions? 

If they gave them to her, she wouldn’t need to walk downstairs and maybe face her sister or gods forbid, Rhysand…and ask them for Madja. 

Nobody would need to know. She could have her privacy and her dignity left intact. 

“Yes, please,“ she breathed in relief as the shadows poured something or other over her head. One shadow brought her a vial, wrapping around her wrist as she uncorked and downed it. 

A bitter taste but it left her blissedly numb and tired nearly immediately.

“What’s that?” She mumbled as they hushed her, massaging her head.

It tasted differently than whatever Madja usually gave her…telling her that pain and discomfort were normal and that her potions would ease it…It was like pouring a bucket of water over an inferno. 

While this…this was quenching everything. Leaving her numb. 

Just a rather strong pain potion, the shadows promised her. You’ll sleep for a bit…We’ll talk more then.

Sleep… Sleep sounded nice…

She didn’t even think about feeling self-conscious when they pulled her from the water, rinsed her off and wrapped her in warm, fluffy towels. 

They laid out her favourite nightgown so she only needed to pull it on and pull back the sheets of her bed so she could slide beneath it. 

Even a hot water bottle was waiting for her…

Everything so that she would be as comfortable as possible… everything for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears pricking in her eyes as she climbed between her blankets, the shadows fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets as high as they went. 

It was weird…to have the shadows doting on her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Eira was too selfish to protest this bit of attention…the only positive attention she had in years. 

They promised not to tell, so she wouldn’t either. Not when this was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her. 

She fell asleep between one breath and the next, safely and warmly ensconced in her bed. Deep dreamless sleep…When she woke, it must have been the middle of the night…and still, the shadows were there immediately. 

She whimpered at the cramps that were ransacking her body…and the growling of her stomach in hunger. 

She hated these cycles. Hated how weak they left her and how she wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. 

Are you hungry? You’ll need to eat before you can take another pain potion, the shadows told her worriedly. Not a lot, just a little bit, they promised. 

“I don’t want to go down into the kitchen,” she answered weakly, biting her lip. Not that she thought that she could safely traverse the staircase anyway. 

Eira just wanted to stay here…alone. Maybe with the shadows for company, as long as they wanted her…

We’ll get you something. What would you like? They assured her immediately. 

Everything in her body ached for something human, even when she knew that their food would taste like ash for her. She always wanted human things. The things she would never have again.  

“Maybe some soup?” Eira asked finally. “If that’s not too much trouble?” 

Of course not. 

They fluffed her pillows and helped her sit up…and then soup appeared…a bowl filled with clear broth with bits of vegetables and chunks of chicken and noodles…cooked to perfection…better than anything she could have ever produced and by the gods, she had tried…All of it, arranged on a tray, with two slices of perfect crusty bread and another pain potion. 

She took that first, and it made her pleasantly numb and tired…and so she weakly spooned as much soup as she could in her mouth afterwards… mopping up the last of her soup with the bread. 

She finished as much as she could before she was too tired and the shadows tucked her back into bed, curled up on her side…so they could fuss with her hair which was a mess as always. 

She felt like a child being fawned over and she couldn’t help but relax into it…let them do with her whatever they wished if they just kept being so…nice to her. 

Feeling better? they asked softly and she hummed. 

If you could be anything…do anything... what would it be? The shadows wondered quietly. The movements of them were lulling her to some space of safety and warmth and Eira considered the question. 

If she could have anything in the world…what would she want?

A heady question. 

“When I was…young,” she said softly… “I wanted a dashing knight to come rescue me, and whisk me away from that horrible cottage,” she said weakly. “That’s what I wanted since I was old enough to want anything.”

A stupid children’s dream. 

But sadly there were no knights in Prythian and even if there were any, they wouldn’t pick Eira. 

And now? The shadows pushed. 

“Somebody that loves me,”  she admitted quietly. “A husband…children.”

All of that…she wanted all of that. 

And she was never going to have it. 

We could find you a husband, the shadows finally said quietly. If that makes you happy…we could help you.

“Who could possibly want me?” Eira asked, her voice breaking. Who would want her? The answer was easy: Nobody. 

Only because Master is an idiot, doesn’t mean every male is, they told her tartly. 

She wanted to laugh but it ended in a sob. 

“He isn’t an idiot,” Eira disagreed. “He just knows that…I am not good enough for him.”

Not pretty enough, not smart enough…not enough period.

That’s ridiculous, the shadows hissed. 

It wasn’t. 

“He’s in love with my prettier twin sister,” Eira snapped. “I shouldn’t want him anyway. Why should I want to be his second or even third choice?  Maybe for once, I want to be somebody’s first choice! Maybe for once, I want to be treated like I matter! That my feelings matter…that I matter!” It burst out of her. The tears burned in her eyes at that admission. At…how unfair it was. 

What had she done to deserve this? What had she done? 

Eira immediately regretted that outburst though. “I am so sorry,” she blurted out.

They didn’t deserve to be pulled into her feeling unfairly treated. She should stop complaining. It wasn’t going to…

For what? the shadows snorted. You are absolutely right. You deserve to be somebody’s first choice. You deserve to be treated like you matter. 

She didn’t. 

Maybe you should go shopping, the shadows suggested with a sigh. The suggestion was so sudden that she stared at the tendril of shadow still wrapped around her wrist. 

“Why?” she asked with a sigh. 

The Morrigan does that if she feels bad. The shadows told her earnestly. Then she buys shoes and feels better. 

Ah. 

She highly doubted that shoes were going to solve any of her problems. A pretty pair of shoes wasn’t going to make anybody fall in love with her. Or want her. 

“What am I supposed to buy?” She asked quietly. “Just shoes?”

Stuff. The shadows answered easily. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy, they assured her. All your sisters have more stuff than you. You make them dresses and other things. But you never make yourself anything, the shadows said quietly. Nobody would say anything if you wanted things that are yours. 

Right. She had never bothered with that. Not after she had lost all her things together with her humanity…there had been some piles of necessities sent to them by Rhysand…and that had been that. 

She had never bothered to get more than that. She still wore those dresses of the very first weeks… and while she had made dresses for all three of her sisters…as human out of necessity, as Fae out of habit…she hadn’t made herself any in years.

Not since becoming Fae. Her new body felt…she hadn’t wanted to look at her new body for long enough to figure out how something should fit onto it. How it had changed….

These godforsaken ears were enough. 

Buy things for yourself. Like a new dress! Or earrings! Diamonds! The shadows suggested. Whatever you find pretty. 

“My ears aren’t pierced,” she said quietly, a yawn taking over her face. 

That brought them up short.

Master bought you pearl earrings, the shadows said suddenly, sounding perplexed. 

He had. Beautiful. Impersonal. Unwearable for her…a far cry from all the little trinkets he had given to Elain…

Still, for months she had stared at them and found them oh so beautiful…safely kept in their box in her drawer at her vanity table. 

Maybe that alone should have told her everything she needed to know about the state of Azriel’s affection for her. 

Namely it was non-existent when the spymaster of the night court didn’t even bother to check if she even wore earrings. 

And the earrings…well…they were only…one thing. Her room at the River Estate that she had been supposed to furnish to her liking…that was another. 

In the end, it had consisted out of her getting a set of the same bedroom furniture as every other guest room and her walls were painted cream like in every other room Feyre hadn’t gotten to yet. It was still as impersonal as it had been when she had moved in. 

She knew that Elain had stuff to litter her bookcases with…gifts from Azriel or Feyre or Lucien, her mate…even Eira had gifted her sister things. 

But all Eira had…were the dresses she had on commission laid out on her desk. Which she would need to return to the shop where she worked as a seamstress at soon enough once she was finished with her alteration on them…and well, that was it. 

No books, because her reading was absolutely atrocious…no little trinkets from any of her sisters…no paintings or art or anything really. 

Just…her sewing and embroidery supplies and that was that…and even these weren’t…held in one of these pretty little wooden sewing boxes on legs that would keep them tidily kept away…

Do you need money? The shadows asked her seriously. 

“What?” Eira asked weakly.

She made some money with her job. Not a lot…but some. All of it carefully stashed away to buy birthday or solstice gifts from…or little trinkets she saw in a shop and thought one of her sisters would like…that Nyx would like. 

Do you need money? They repeated patiently. To buy stuff? For yourself? 

“No, I have money. And I don’t want to owe anybody anything,” she answered quietly, her eyes slowly closing.

 She didn’t want to end like Nesta… were in the end, her habits were used to bludgeon her with…she didn’t…

You wouldn’t. The shadows assured her. We have our own line of credit. 

What? 

“How does that work? Do you have your own bank account?” she asked curiously, and she could nearly feel their amusement. 

We like playing the lottery. Everything we win, we put into Master’s Bank Account, they explained to her earnestly. He never uses it anyway. We could just put our winnings in yours instead. Master wouldn’t care.

It was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Really?” she still asked weakly. 

Really! they assured her seriously. Enough for you to have a shopping spree! We like shiny things, they told her, making her laugh. Master never buys any. We’ll pick up some mail-order catalogues for you and then you can spend tomorrow ordering some things. Maybe some curtains to spruce things up a little. It’s awfully empty in here. 

Still, she couldn’t help but ask. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Nobody should be treated like you are, they told her fiercely. Nobody should feel like they have no place anywhere.

[witchesverse]

run away, toy.

pairing: dark!wandanat x fem!reader

summary: you don't know how long they've kept you as their toy, but you decided it was time to escape again. what a big mistake.

content: dark/abusive themes, choking with magic, being kept in a cage, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, chasing, hair pulling, heavy manipulation, dubcon, strap-on sex, anal, overstim.

masterlist

You cringed at the loud slaps your bare feet made against the wet concrete. You were trying to be subtle, but obviously were failing at that. Your breathing was ragged, and your legs were burning. You wanted to slow down but you knew that if you did, Wanda and Natasha would be on you immediately.

You turned a corner and felt your heart drop. You ran into a fucking alley way. A dead end.

No, no, no.

You turned around, hoping you had enough time to escape but you didn’t.

Her red eyes shone in the dark.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You couldn’t see where the assassin was, but you knew she was near. It honestly surprised you Natasha didn’t get to you first. She has the proper training for hunting.

“Wan- “

You felt your throat constrict and you gasped for air. Your clawed at your throat and your knees buckled. Your vision started to fade.

Wanda silently stalked towards you, with each step, her boots echoed in the empty alley way. She stood over you with a disappointed look on her face.

Then everything went black.

●・○・●・○・●

You woke with a gasp, immediately sitting upwards and hitting your head on something metal. You look upwards and sigh. You’re in your cage again.

“Of course, I’m sure.”

You shudder at the sound of the familiar voice. Carol Danvers.

The blackout blanket around your cage makes it impossible to see anything, but you recognise her voice.

You mean, how could you forget?

The blackout blanket is suddenly ripped off your cage, and you’re left squinting and blinking as your eyes adjust to the bright lights. Wanda and Carol were sitting around a table, holding no doubt, coffee in their hands. Natasha stood in front of you, unlocking the cage before grabbing you by the hair and pulling you out.

You huffed as your lifted to your feet and shoved towards Wanda. You awkwardly stood in front of Wanda with your hands behind your back, just how she likes it.

Carol took this as her cue to leave.

“I’ll see both of you soon.” She smiled at Wanda and Natasha “I’ve left Valkyrie alone for too long.”

Wanda didn’t look away from you nor did she respond to Carol. Natasha did for her, wishing her a safe travel.

The moment you heard the door click and lock, you moved backwards.

You don’t get far before Natasha wraps her arm around your chest, constricting your arms and holding you to her chest.

Wanda stood, her emotionless face finally breaking.

“Do you even know what you caused?” Wanda hissed “Running around the city naked like some idiot. People saw you, and Carol had to kill them. Do you enjoy knowing that innocent people are dead because of your foolishness?”

You shook your head, already feeling the tears forming in your eyes. You wanted to believe Wanda was lying, but she doesn’t lie.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you- “

“Don’t fucking speak!”

You flinched.

“We give you a perfect life here, yet you still decide to be selfish.” Wanda was close enough to your face that you could feel her breath fanning across your lips.

Natasha's grip tightened as you tried to wiggle away.

“Should we just throw you away? Go find another toy to love?” Wanda questioned.

You shook your head, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You don’t understand why you disagreed with her. You had just escaped home to get away from Wanda and Natasha, and now that they were offering you another escape, you denied it.

“I’m done with you,” She scoffed “Natasha deal with her and come see me when you’re done.”

That’s when the tears fall. Rejection.

Wanda walked out of the room, leaving you alone with Natasha.

Natasha shoved you into the couch. Positioning your face to be buried in pillows and your ass in the air. She pressed down on your back, forcing you to form into the perfect arch.

“Nat,” You sniffled.

She doesn’t respond.

“Please, say something.”

Nothing.

You heard the zipping of her pants and something cold press against your ass.

“Natty?”

Silence.

Your sniffles slowly turned into soft cries as you felt the tip of her lubed strap press into you. The stretch burned and she didn’t let you adjust before she pushed her full length into you.

Her hands pulled your hips into her tummy, keeping you secure. She lent down and you moaned at the movement.

“Beg for me not to fuck you.”

You whimpered.

She's such a sick fuck.

“Please, don’t. I don’t want it today, please.”

Natasha slowly thrusted into you, forcing your hips to slam back down. It hurt so fucking bad, and you loved it.

All that could be heard were your loud moans and the wet noises of Natasha’s strap drilling into you.

The pain subsided and bursts of pleasure shot through your body. You swore you could feel Natasha in your stomach from how deep she was. It was almost overwhelming.

Natasha dug her nails into your hips, creating crescent-moon marks. She occasionally slapped your thighs, knowing that’s where it hurt the most.

It didn’t take long for you to get close, and Natasha knew it. She basically knew your body like it was the back of her hand.

Her fingers reached down and rubbed your clit in tight, small circles, electing a loud moan from you. She used her spare hand to grab onto your hair, pulling you upwards so your back was against her chest.

The sudden change in positions forced you over the edge. Your vision speckled white and your back arched.

You cried out in pleasure and pain as overstimulation quickly took place. You tried pushing Natasha away from you, but she didn’t move. She continued to pound into you and rub your clit.

“Stop, stop. Please, it’s gonna hurt.”

She refused. It didn’t take long for your second, third, and finally fourth orgasm to be pulled from you.

Natasha let you slump into the couch, pulling her strap from your arse. Tears continued to fall down your face from the overstimulation and regret.

“Is Wanda mad at me?” You whispered, staring at the wall behind Natasha.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “That’s a stupid question.”

You sniffled and watched Natasha leave the room. You were cold but too tired to find a blanket to wrap around your body. You wanted to sleep and pretend that today didn’t happen.

You thought it had been around five months since your last attempt to escape. You weren’t sure, though; time is different with Wanda and Natasha. They removed the clocks from the apartment and refused to tell you the date or time.

You knew Wanda was mad at you, Natasha too. You figured you would have to make it up to them, but you didn’t know how. You had never seen Wanda so angry before.

You had to find a way to make her forgive you.

[bpmiranda]

Can I request make up sex fic of Logan x reader?

Forgive Me (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: sex, oral f! receiving, fingering, creampie, soft!logan

“You’re not going, Y/N! End of discussion.” Logan had yelled at you, in front of the group, just to add insult to injury. He took it upon himself to decide your skills weren’t useful enough to come along on this particular mission. It hurt that he would say that to you, it didn’t make sense because he never would say something like that to you. It was as if you didn’t even know him in that moment.

The sound of the jet returning echoed through the mansion and you sighed, wiping your tear-stained cheeks as you got out of bed to check your appearance because you know Logan was going to come up to your shared bedroom. Your eyes were reddened and puffy and you groaned at the sight before running some cold water to splash your face.

As you were patting your face dry, you heard the bedroom door open and you sniffed, hanging the face towel back before stepping out into the bedroom. Logan looked at you and he sighed, your pouty lip breaking his heart because he knew he did this to you. “Baby,” He said softly and you wanted to cry again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Logan, no,” You mumble, turning away from him and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m not ready to talk to you.”

Logan comes around to your side and he kneels in front of you, his hands on your knees and he kisses your thighs softly, apologetically. “You don’t have to talk. Just listen to me, please?” He asks and you sigh, looking him in the face to show you’re listening. “Magneto was there tonight. I can’t fight him, you know that, everyone knows that. At any moment, he could rip my skeleton right through me.” Logan explains and he takes in a deep breath, caressing your legs gently. “If something happened to you and he incapacitated me, if I couldn’t get to you-” Logan choked, not bearing the thought. “I’d have to find a way to kill myself. Baby, I couldn’t risk not being able to help you tonight. It was selfish of me, I know, but I’d rather be selfish than without you. I won’t apologize for keeping you safe, but I will apologize for approaching the subject the way I did earlier. It wasn’t fair to you, I’m so sorry, baby.”

Your heart melted at his words and you felt yourself giving into him. “Logan,” You sighed before kissing him. Your hands caressed his face lovingly and he stood up, hovering over you without breaking the kiss. “You should’ve just said that.”

“You wouldn’t have listened,” Logan smirked, moving you onto the bed and then settling between your thighs as he kissed your neck. “You never do.”

Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip and he groans as he smells your arousal. “Can’t keep kissing your way out of the doghouse.” You whisper with an amused tone.

Logan chuckles, one hand slipping up your nightie and his fingers easily find their way into your panties. “This is the last time, I promise.” He says before descending down between your thighs, pushing the satin material of your sleep nightie up to your hips. His nose presses into your cunt, inhaling and salivating at the scent, making you tremble. His tongue runs through your folds after he has discarded you of your panties, large hands gripping tightly onto your thighs to keep them apart as he ravishes you.

Your back arches in pleasure, one hand tangled in his hair and the other fisting the sheets as you moan and gasp from the way his lips press kisses to your clit after sucking and biting on the sensitive bud. Two thick fingers slide into you, curling within your walls, coaxing you to go over that edge as he groans into your cunt. “Oh, oh, yes!” You gasp, your head rolling back as your orgasm is eased lovingly out of you.

Logan’s messy with the way he laps at your release, growling as your juices coat his tongue and his lips while he begs for you to forgive him. “I’d do anything, baby,” He murmurs as he’s kissing your trembling thighs, caressing your hips and waist as he moves up your body. “Anything for you to forgive me.”

“Please, Logan,” You whine, wanting him to pleasure you more, needing to feel more of him. “Just fuck me.”

Obediently, he discards himself of his clothing before hovering back over you, forehead rested against yours as he slides into your slick pussy with ease. Your narrow walls hug him tightly, they’re warm and wet, allowing him in deeper and deeper until he’s sitting heavy inside you and pressed into your cervix. “Do you forgive me?” He asks while he’s pumping slowly in and out of you, watching your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fall slightly open as he makes sure you feel every inch of his cock dragging against your walls. His hands are caressing your soft hair, cradling your head gently in his hands so he can keep your pretty face in view. He wants you to feel all of him, feel how sorry he is to have made you cry tears that were neither from pleasure nor laughter, like he’s supposed to do as your man.

“Yes,” You whimper out of fear that he’ll stop giving you this mind-numbing pleasure. “Yes, Lo, I forgive you.” You gasp, clawing at his back as his steady pace and depth quickly makes you cum again. Logan groans in approval, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he too finishes, deep inside you, making sure not one drop is spilled. “Logan!” You cry, the feeling so intimate and intense as he spurts cum against your cervix. His grip is tight on your hair, body shaking over yours as he presses light kisses to your chest and shoulder.

“I really am sorry. I love you so much, baby.” He sighs, holding you close as he slowly rolls onto his back and keeps you pressed to his chest, his cock still sitting inside you. “I never want you to forget that.”

His large hands are caressing your thighs and your ass, lips continuing to leave kiss after kiss on your head and your cheeks. “I know,” You smile as you settle on him, sighing happily because this is who you know, your sweet boyfriend who would never purposefully do anything to hurt you. “I love you, Logan.”

[goldhoekin]

Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Li

Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Li x Fem!Reader

summary: After Marie becomes #2 and Brink is killed by Luke Jordan slips in the rankings. They begin to obsess over the rankings neglecting their girlfriend who lets their frustration slips and Jordan takes their frustrations out on their girlfriend.

cw: fem!reader, porn with some plot, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (m! & f! receiving), blowjob, overstimulation, ripping of clothes, biting/marking, dacryphilia, degradation, chocking

Words:1.8k

“I can’t fucking believe I’m still number 5. Fucking FIVE babe!” Jordan growls from their spot on their bed, you sigh quietly as you enter the room fully. You’d JUST walked into your partner’s dorm before you were bombarded with Jordan’s endless string of complaints about their place in the rankings. You knew that it bothered them to slip from #3 to #5 after the death of Brink but for FUCKS sake, Luke JUST DIED. You knew that Brink’s death was effecting Jordan as well ( you personally couldn’t give a flying fuck about that creepy fuck, and he held the same contempt as you because he thought you weren’t good enough for Jordan) but this is getting ridiculous. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice you’d said it aloud.

“This-this ridiculous?” Jordan says back, their brown eyes flashing from hurt to anger. You yourself feel a flash of regret before you again become angry. 

“Yes Jordan, this is getting fucking ridiculous, it’s not that freshmen’s fault she was pushed. I’ve heard her thoughts-trust me she needs to do well so let her have this. Andre, is Andre. He’s a grand poobah nepo baby, there’s not much you can do there but what you CAN do is work out your anger and stop ignoring your fucking girlfriend! You will get your just do, baby I promise you but PLEASE keep sight of what’s currently in front of you before it's not here anymore.” You say, your words falling from your lips before you could stop them, Jordan freezes in place. 

Before you can even blink Jordan has you held against a wooden door, your hands on their broad shoulders and their hands on your face to kiss yours with a bruising force. Your legs wrapped around their waist as they roughly invade your mouth, a deep groan escapes their lips as they make their way down the column of your neck. You feel their hands ripping your shirt open, leaving a trail or open mouth kisses down your body.

Moans escape your lips and you feel yourself being unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. Hands running through Jordan's hair, they shift forms and you feel their hands go from large and callous to soft and small. The delicate digits ghosting their hands down your supple body, their tongue following the trail. A rough bite to your breasts causes a breathy gasp to leave your lips, a slender hand sliding into your panties and finding your sopping wet cunt.

Without warning you feel their fingers enter you roughly, two a time. A punishing pace set as Jordan finger fucks you closer and closer to completion. You somehow manage to remove all of your clothing, Jordan paying your antics no mind until they feel your dripping wet pussy clenching their fingers as you nearly reach your peak. They promptly withdraw their fingers from you. 

"What—what the fuck are you doing Jor. I was so close, baby please!" You whine, your thighs rubbing together to get some sort of friction as you look at your partner’s wickedly smirking face. Jordan's form changes yet again to their male form, their cock looking painfully hard. 

"OH baby did you think I would let you come so easily after what the fuck you said to me? Oh no babygirl you won't get to come until I say so…and if you don't behave and come anyways then I fuck you until there's tears streaming down your face for being fucked so good!" Jordan says, claiming your mouth again, the tip of their cock rubbing against your aching pussy. 

Without warning they plunge their length into you, a deep moan leaving their beautiful lips as you feel Jordan set a brutal pace. Their hands bruising your hips as they fuck you into the mattress, your breasts bouncing wildly with the force of their thrusts. Suddenly you feel yourself getting flipped onto your stomach, face pressed down into the mattress, your ass in the air and Jordan never leaving your cunt. Their thrusts somehow get faster, harder. 

Your hand tries to sneakily reach down to rub your clit, desperate for release. Jordan had unfortunately caught you and brought both of your hands tightly behind your back, one of their hands tightly grips them. The other hand roughly slaps your ass, "I told you baby girl. You cum when I say you can fucking cum, not before. Do. You. Understand?" Jordan growls, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust.

You whimper in response to their harsh treatment of you, and as fucked up as it seems. You actually fucking love it, it feels so good to be tossed like a ragdoll by Jordan. Them working their frustration out on you and finally paying attention to you since Marie got to Godolkin. You can feel their mouth nipping and biting any skin they can get to, leaving deep love marks and the like unto your skin. You can feel them gripping your wrists tighter and you feel the knot in your stomach so close to unraveling and you know Jordan can feel you tightening up around them.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, do you understand me?” They whisper in your ear, nipping as they do so. 

“I𑁋i’m trying but I don’t think I can Jordan. Please baby, let me cum!” You whine out, desperate for release. 

A dark chuckle leaves their throat, their thrusts getting sloppy as they piston in and out of your weeping cunt. Their thrusts stop as they fill up to the brim with their hot cum and a deep groan leaves their lips as they fuck you through their orgasm. At the last second where you feel your own climax about to topple over the edge the cock is gone and Jordan’s large hands become delicate again. They fucking changed forms again and tears begin to fall down your face as you realize you didn’t get to cum. You feel their supple hand grip your face harshly, “What’s wrong baby? I did warn you didn’t I? Not until I tell you to cum to you cum Angel.”

They kiss away your tears, move their way to the top of the bed, lovely legs spread open and their cunt glistening in the cheap fluorescent lighting, they look you in the eye, “What are you waiting for? Get to work babygirl, you get me to cum again and I may think about returning the favor.” 

Without hesitation you lunge into Jordan’s cunt and begin lapping at your pussy with a vengeance, like a woman starved to get them to cum as soon as superhumanly possible. Your fingers rubbing their clit furiously, one hand gripping their left thigh in a vice grip, leaving crescent shaped marks on their thigh. A hand roughly pushes down your head, which causes your tongue to plunge into Jordan’s cunt.

You move your tongue at a steady pace, adding two fingers that you curl periodically inside Jordan, their cunt tightening around your digits. Their legs wrap around your head tightly as they reach their peak, a high pitched scream leaves their mouth as they cum again, legs shaking as they come down from their high. Sweat coats their skin as they struggle to catch their breath, “Fuck babygirl…I guess since you did so good I’ll give you what you want. How do you want me?”

You feel your heart soar, you’d been rubbing your thighs together to gain any sort of relief, any sort of friction to get yourself off. “I-i need you to fuck dick me down, real good and real hard. Punish me anyway please Jordan please!”

A smile graces their face as they switch forms again, they hold their cock in their hands, “Well I’m gonna need some assistance Angel…” You eagerly take their cock into your mouth, licking and sucking them until they get erect again, you remove your mouth from their cock, a string of saliva connecting the two.  

“You look so fucking good like this, I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Jordan says as they move into position behind you, rubbing the tip of their cock between your throbbing pussy lips. Ever so slowly they slide their cock into you inch by inch, Jordan holds your hips in place as you try to push back into them. Once they fill you to the hilt they immediately pull almost all the way out only to roughly slam back into you.

They set a brutal pace, holding your head down by your neck to brace themself as they roughly fuck you into oblivion. You feel your orgasm building up again so fast, you are so close and Use Me or Lose Me || Jordan Like a dam overflowing you feel yourself practically dissolving around Jordan.

You feel a gush of liquid escaping from your cunt, your legs giving up on you as you struggle to hold yourself up. Jordan doesn’t stop though, they continue fucking you through your orgasm, you feel yourself getting over stimulated and you try to wiggle away from Jordan but they hold you in place.

They slap your ass roughly and repeatedly, rubbing soothing circles onto your stinging flesh. Tears fall down your face as you look back at Jordan pleadingly but at the sight of your tears they laugh. “Look at you being a crybaby about getting dicked down like you wanted. You wanted me to treat you like the needly little whore you are and now you’re whining about getting what you begged for? You’re pathetic baby girl!” 

They fuck you through yet another orgasm, whimpers spilling from your lips as you feel yourself cum again spasming around Jordan’s cock as they give you no time to rest. They rub your clit as you cry out again and again, relishing the feeling of you squeezing the life out of their cock, you feel their hand gripping your throat. They tighten it around your neck cutting off your air supply, a rough kiss applied to you lips, their thrusting never ceasing their pace in the slightest. You feel them throbbing close to yet another release, just as they release your neck to fill you up yet again do you feel their teeth bite deep into your flesh.

As you take in gasping breath they lick at the wound on your neck, gripping your body as they slump onto you, not pulling themselves from your heat. They hold onto you and whisper into your ear, “I’m sorry about being an asshole, but just know I won’t just let you walk out on me without a fight Angel.” 

They nuzzle your neck and your eyes grow heavy and the ghost of a smile is on your lips, at least they paid me some fucking attention.

[yandere-sins]

this is v dark, oops! but i was thinking about an apologetic sadist. like they rlly fucking love you, but they can’t help themselves! they’re obsessed with the sight of you battered, bruised, bleeding. needing 2 have you despite your protests, begging you 2 be quiet for them, to stop struggling, apologising 4 having 2 gag you because they love the sounds you make, but they just need 2 let off a bit of steam, by fucking you, cutting you, whatever. is this too specific? if you can’t make a fic out of it, i’d at least love 2 hear your thoughts on it ^^ take care! — sending my love 2 your kind soul, mwah!

Oooh, that's fun! Thanks for requesting!

Warning: Yandere, Violence, Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ Imagine being kidnapped and waking up to an absolute psycho standing above you. They are almost ripping off their own skin as they watch you stir on the chair, infatuation driving them mad. "You're so beautiful," they groan as they reach out. You flinch as they plant their palm on your cheek and caress you, and you are appalled at their touch, but when you open your mouth to argue, they pinch your cheek hard. Not like your grandparents would, but to the point it feels like they are trying to rip out a part of your face.

♡ At this point, you don't know that it's just the beginning. That they are testing out how your skin feels underneath their fingertips. How it stretches and bends. How hard they have to squeeze to make you bruise. Your first bruise is special. It's so beautiful they start crying, sinking to the ground and weeping into your legs, their grip crass as they squeeze your thighs, dig their nails until you jerk and whine, unable to stop feeling you and making you squirm even as they beg for forgiveness, explain they couldn't help themselves from hurting you.

♡ You still think you can reason with the yan, tell them you'll forgive them but they need to let you go. Something is clearly wrong in their head, and you begin to panic when they tug away your shirt, exposing your belly. They lap at the softer skin, bring it between their teeth, and bite down as if you were a dish served to them rather than a living being. You scream and kick, but still, they only release you when they want. "Sorry, did that hurt?" they ask, and you think they are mocking you, but there is genuine concern in their expression as they reach up to wipe away your tears, blood staining their lips red.

♡ You fight for a long time and endure so many "love" bites and scratches. As long as your kidnapper feels you up like a bendable piece of meat, and you make it clear you don't like it. They get angry when you ask them to let you go than when you scream and curse at the pain they are inflicting, but when they take out the knife for the first time, you become eerily quiet. "Talk to me," they demand, prying your mouth open by forcing their thumb inside. Your voice cracks as you plead with them not to kill you, and they chuckle, responding that it "depends on you."

♡ The blade is sharp, yet they drag it over your skin like a paintbrush. It burns, and you sob harder after every cut as they keep painting obscure patterns into your skin. All the while, the yan is smiling from ear to ear like a child on their birthday, and when you finally cried yourself to exhaustion, they reach up, praising you for being so good for them. You think they are finally done as they throw the knife aside, but before you know it, their mouth crashes into yours, their lips and tongue completely overtaking every autonomy you have. When you try to turn your head away, they bite down on your tongue, dragging it out from your lips and catching it between their fingers, playing with it while you whimper. You want them to stop, so when they kiss you again you let them, reciprocrating their kiss in the hopes it will finally satisfy them.

♡ Satisfy it did, and you are finally released. You are so exhausted and bloody, the fear and shock slowly make you pass out. But with the ropes gone that bound you to the chair, there is also hope as the psycho picks you up and carries you to a dirty bed. Hope that you can fight them and escape. Hope that you will live. Your palm hits them square in the face before you can think of a plan, and your captor grows stiff as a board before their eyes pin you down, angry, mad. And then they grin as if you had just challenged them to a friendly duel. You endure a dozen slaps, feeling the swelling around your face as you apologize, pleading for them to stop.

♡ Suddenly, they do, and you both stare at each other. Their expression contorts as they start crying, their tears dripping onto you, and you're not sure if what you're seeing is real. "I'm so sorry, baby! You made me do this! It must have hurt so bad, I'm so sorry!" It's hard to keep eye contact, but you do your best as they weep bitterly, their body crashing down onto your chest as they plead for forgiveness, hugging you tightly. You feel no such thing. How could you forgive the torture they are putting you through? "Is that what you want? A punching bag?"

♡ "Oh, no. No, no, no, baby," they reply. "I only want you. I love you. You are so beautiful." They kiss you again, and you don't get to argue with them before you finally pass out.

♡ You awake to a hot, wet feeling between your legs, the discomfort of the pain all over your body, and a pleasurable tingle giving you very different signals. Even if you don't remember them tying you to the bed, you find it hard to move, forcing your neck upwards far enough to look down your body, seeing the bloody hands gripping you as your captor cheekily grins from between your legs.

♡ Reality hits hard with the first orgasm. You shamefully cry out in pleasure, moan as they push you over the edge, and enjoy your writhing and fluids to the fullest. "Stop!" you scream as they keep tormenting you with more and more pleasure, their lust and hunger seemingly endless. You feel them grin against your privates, and you are so angry that it is all a game to them. "Your body begs to differ," they mumble smugly, and your anger grows. "I said stop!" you yell, trying to kick them when they keep ignoring you.

♡ Unfortunately, you do little harm to them, but their brows furrow in annoyance as they finally let off you. They click their tongue and wipe their chin before getting off, roughly throwing your leg out of the way so they can pass without getting kicked again. Your body is forced to move in ways you've been too restricted for, and it hurts, but you clench your teeth and endure it. But your eyes go wide as your captor returns with a ball on a leather band, and you know exactly what they want to do.

♡ "Stop resisting! I've got enough of your complaining! I'm being so good to you!" they argue as they try to put the gag in your mouth. You try so hard to avoid it, but when they grab your nose and slam the gag between your lips the moment you gasp for air, you're done for. You can only cry as they tie it tightly around your skull before heaving a big sigh, a gentle smile returning to the yandere's lips as they wipe the tears away, telling you that it's "only for the best" and that they "need a break from your brattiness."

♡ You're turned over, barely able to breathe as the yandere forces your head into the pillow. You startle and shriek as you feel their fingers reaching down to your hole, inevitably preparing you for what they arranged. You cry some more as you feel them getting ready themselves. Still, both of you moan pathetically as they push past your entrance, sliding in so easily after all the foreplay they did. "That's it," they coo, "you feel so good, darling. You're so pretty when you shut the fuck up. I know you're scared, but you're doing so well."

♡ "You don't know how much I wanted this. I've been craving this moment for so long." With a handful of your hair in their grip, you're forced to arch your back, making them groan as you tighten around them. "That's it, look at you taking it like a champ. As if you were made for me."

♡ Tears keep spilling even when the yan licks them off your face. They bury their mouth at the soft spot between your neck and shoulder, biting down to the point your voice is nothing more than a gurgle as they plow into you, stretching you beyond recovery. They are rough and uncaring, but whenever they speak, they tell you about how great you are and how well you're doing. As if they knew you for a long time. "Finally!" they rejoice as the relentless hammering of their hips becomes erratic. "You don't know how much I needed this. Needed you. I've been thinking about it so long, ah... Fuck, I'm going to come so hard, darling! I'll make you so happy!"

♡ You should have been happy it was over as the yan collapses, spent and giddy. Kissing your face and playing with your abused hole as you feel your soul break. They peel off the gag, lapping up the drool dripping from your lips as they kiss you gently, their hands cupping your cheeks so lovingly. "I know it hurts," they whisper as they rub your back, burying your face in their body. "But you did so well! You behaved so good, my love!"

♡ When you don't react, their voice becomes more desperate, their hand clawing into your back. You hiss in pain as they yank your head back, forcing you to face them. "Are you ignoring me on purpose? Did I hurt you so much? Didn't you feel good? Was I too rough? Are you mad at me?" The rapid fire of questions doesn't cease, giving you no way to respond. Their panic gets worse and worse as they switch between accusing you of hating them and sobbing about how sorry they are that they let it come to this, that all they ever wanted was to love you.

♡ Once again, you are surprised by your own actions as you shut them up with a kiss. Immediately, they melt into you, their hands softening on top of your bruised and cut body, the yan moaning into the kiss as they hump their hips against you. You figure there is no satisfying them, but their voice started tearing at your nerves. "I love you," the moan into the kiss. "I love you, I love you so much! You're so pretty, I love you! I'm so sorry for hurting you, but I love you! You're all mine! Mine! Forever! I'll take so good care of you! So love me too, okay?"

[lanadelnegan]

hyperfeminine reader x negan? he goes to alexandria to take their supplies and reader is just walking around looking all pretty and he CANT resist.

ily 💕💕

ily more bby. xx

Pretty in Pink

S7 Negan x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, public sex (in front of Dwight.. like literally in the car while he's driving), Negan being overly caring and sweet with you, character death (negan kills your brother Spencer)

Note: this is dark and twisted ngl.

I watch Negan like a deer in headlights as he whispers into my brother's ear.

"It's because.. ya got no guts." The rest of us are silent as we watch Negan slash his knife through Spencer's stomach, revealing his insides. My stomach churns as I watch him fall to the ground.

Negan chuckles as he looks around, eyeing the crowd as if he's daring us to react.

"Oh, there they are! They were inside of you the whole time." He smirks down at Spencer's lifeless body before his dark eyes roam up, meeting mine.

I quickly look down, biting my lip and fighting back tears. My nails dig into my skin as I try to remain calm.

"Well hello, princess." He slowly approaches me. "Forgive me for the gruesome scene you just had to witness." His hand rests against his chest sympathetically as he stands in front of me now, at least a foot above me.

My fingers lace together in front of me as I continue looking down, digging my dirty white shoe into the gravel.

"I don't believe we've met, sweetheart... In fact, I know we haven't because I definitely would have noticed you, looking all pretty in this little pink skirt."

I look up at him innocently through my lashes. His head cocks to the side as he subtly leans back, noticing the tear slipping from my cheek.

"Shit, darlin'. I am so sorry. That wasn't your boyfriend I just ripped open, was it?" He motions towards Spencer.

I softly shake my head no, earing a grin from him as he tilts my chin upwards to meet his stare.

"He - he was my brother." I sniffle, feeling another tear slide from my cheek.

Negan's jaw ticks and his eyes shut painfully tight as his hand slowly retreats from my chin.

"Goddamn it... If I woulda known.." He shakes his head with disappointment, noticing everyone still standing around us. "Enjoying the fucking show, people?!" He gestures for everyone to clear out before turning his attention back to me.

Sighing loudly, he delicately picks me up in his arms, holding me like a baby. I allow him to carry me as I bury my face into his shirt, soaking it with my tears.

"Ssshhh, babyyy." He whispers against the top of my head as he walks us to his van.

"Dwight! Let's go, you're driving."

"Boss? The supplies.. we don't have them loaded yet." Simon interrupts.

"I'm sorry." Negan's voice vibrates through his chest and into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Does it look like I give two fucks about supplies right now?"

He doesn't wait for Simon to answer as he opens the passenger door, joining Dwight in the van while carefully maneuvering me in his lap. My legs face towards Dwight while the side of my body leans into Negan.

"Hey, sshhh. It's okay, baby. What's your name?" He rubs my back comfortingly.

"Y/n." I whisper, sniffing my runny nose.

"Y/n, you're gonna stay with me tonight so I can make sure you're okay. I truly am sorry about your brother."

I nod my head, leaning against him. This is the first physical affection I've had from anyone since our parents died. Although it's from a man I'm supposed to hate, I can't deny how nice it feels to be touched.

My brother and I drifted apart when our family found Alexandria and made it our own. He turned into someone I didn't recognize, all power-hungry and selfish.. and although he probably deserved to die, he was still my brother. I'll always love him.

I allow myself to snuggle into Negan, my face against his neck as I inhale his scent of leather and citrusy hair gel.

"Gonna make you forget all about that asshole brother of yours, darlin'." His large, veiny hand glides up my thigh until it settles just underneath the frills of my skirt. He rubs circles on my smooth skin with his thumb, comforting me sweetly.

The drive back to the sanctuary seems to last a decade and I watch the way Dwight zones out at the road in front of him, not paying attention to us.

My hand bravely drifts on top of Negan's and I slide his hand deeper underneath my skirt, watching it disappear completely. I know how wrong this is, but I can't help my attraction to him. I've watched him from the window of my room too many times to count, wondering what his lips feel like. Doodling his name next to little hearts in my diary. This is what I've wanted, even if it's under these circumstances.

Negan's eyes widen a little as he looks at me, surprised by my forwardness.

He glances at Dwight before looking back up at me, his heavy eyelids slightly covering his hazel eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

I reach my finger up to graze over his puffy bottom lip in a "shush" motion before leaning in to kiss him. His body remains still as his lips part, letting my tongue slip past his. He groans softly and Dwight glances at us, bringing his eyebrows together.

"Eyes on the fucking road, Dwight." Negan says with our mouths still connected. I let my hands explore him, roaming them up his body and feeling his chest through his t-shirt.

His hard cock presses into my ass as I turn myself to face him, bringing one leg over until they're both hanging over each side of him and I'm straddling his lap. He grips my ass under my skirt as his head falls back slightly, waiting for my next move.

"Negan.."

"Yeah, baby?" His voice is low and raspy.

"Touch me."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he urges my back into the dashboard. My mouth gapes open when he pulls my panties to the side, revealing my pussy to him.

"Look at this pretty pink pussy, baby." He breathes out as his finger slides through my wet folds.

"So wet for daddy. Wish I could fucking take you right here."

I look at Dwight, who's trying his best to pretend we're not here, but the sudden sensation of Negan curling his finger inside me snaps my attention back to him.

"So do it, then." I urge him.

His eyebrows raise. "Ohh, sweetheart. So desperate for some cock." His hands find their way to my hips, tracing over them slowly as I lean back up.

"Just yours." I admit and he chuckles softly.

"Is that right, baby? You've thought about me before, huh? Touched yourself to the thought of my cock inside you."

I nod, letting my fingers run through his slicked back hair and I can't help but grind myself into him, desperate for some friction.

"Take it then. I'm not stoppin' you."

That's all the confirmation I need before reaching for his belt and unbuckling him until his pants are a few inches down his thighs.

My hand reaches in his boxers, pulling out his hardening cock. Negan watches my face as I tug on him a couple times, admiring the way he grows longer and thicker in my hand.

I don't waste any time hovering above him as he slides my panties to the side again, helping me me sink down onto him. I moan out at the fullness as my head slightly falls back.

"Thaaat's it, baby." He groans, digging his fingers into my hips while I bounce on him.

A pothole in the road causes the van to dip suddenly, and my hips collide with his completely, causing the tip of his cock to push violently against my cervix. I cry out loudly at the sharp pain, but continue riding him faster and deeper until tears fill my eyes.

His head rests against the back of the seat as he watches me ride him. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna be my wife, baby? I'll take such good care of you."

My eyes widen a little at the unexpected offer. "Uh, I - I dunno."

"That's alright, baby. I have all night to convince you. Don't think it'll take much, considering how desperate you were for my cock." He smiles up at me arrogantly.

My moans get faster and louder along with his. "You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

I nod as his finger finds my clit with ease, rubbing it just the right way to send me over the edge. He kisses me hard right when my pussy floods his dick, causing a wet spot on his black jeans.

"FUCK. Look at that." He dips his finger in my wetness before bringing it up to my mouth, making me taste myself. I moan around his finger, sucking gently.

"You ready for my cum, baby?"

I nod, wanting to taste him so badly. As if he heard my thoughts, he lifts me off of him until I'm on my knees in the floorboard between his legs.

I watch as he strokes himself a couple times, my eyes darting back and forth between the tip of his swollen dick to his handsome face. His head falls back while his lips part, letting out a deep groan before long ropes of warm cum splatter onto my face and tongue. I close my eyes, savoring the taste of him as I suck his tip dry.

"Goddamn baby. Look at the mess you made." He reaches for my face, wiping his load off my chin with his thumb and sliding it into my mouth. I moan around him again, loving his salty unique taste before climbing up into his lap and leaning my head against his chest.

I close my eyes to the sound of his rapid heartbeat and feeling of his gentle hand stroking my hair.

How can the same hands that ended my brother's life be so... gentle with me.

Dwight shuts the engine off, exiting the van awkwardly once we arrive. Neither of us move, but I smile softly when Negan fixes the white bow in my hair, pinning it back in place and causing my heart to front flip in my chest.

"Negan..." I whisper.

"Yeah, baby?"

"... I'll be your wife."

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Angst with a happy ending, older Eddie, reader acting like a brat. Arguments then fluff. 18+, mdni.

🎀✨💞

Sex. Just sex. That's all you were to Eddie. Knowing it and accepting it was hard for you. So much so that you were in one hell of a mood.

And acting like a major brat. At first Eddie took it in his stride, maybe you were getting sick or you didn't sleep that good.

He usually had endless patience when it came to you. You had him wrapped around your little finger yet you didn't even know it. Not that Eddie would admit it but it was true.

Despite that your attitude was beginning to grate on him and he had enough.

Eddie loses patience. "What the fuck is wrong with you today? why are you so bitchy?" He's put up with your sullenness and attitude all day and he's tired of it.

"I'm fine" you snap, there's no way you could tell him what was really wrong. That you were completely in love with him and he only saw you as a fuck buddy.

Then that would be the end of your relationship and you didn't want it to end. You had grown attached to Eddie so quickly, you'd be heartbroken if your relationship ended.

"Obviously you're not fine if you've been in a mood all day. What the hell is wrong? Clearly I spoil you too fucking much because you're acting like a spoiled brat" tears pool in your eyes and you will them away.

"So now I'm just an annoyance to you?" You question him and he shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.

"I give up. You're twisting my words" you look away feeling your heart sink at his words. Maybe you should just tell him? Rip off the band aid or so to speak.

Unfortunately your mouth runs away with you before you can think about it. "You're the one who called me a brat" he rolls his eyes, folds his arms across his chest and gives you a dark look.

"Because you are! From the moment you woke up to now, all I've had is you bitching in my ear even when I asked you what is wrong, you don't answer"

Anxiety claws in your veins and you don't know what to say to salvage the situation. You shouldn't have been so moody, you know that but the argument had pretty much spiralled out of control.

"Well why don't I just leave then if I'm annoying you so much?" you snap and gather your clothes. He shrugs and his body language turns cold, colder then you've ever seen.

"Maybe you should" the tears flow freely at his tone and you kick yourself as you rush downstairs. You may have just ruined everything.

You were so scared that admitting your feelings to Eddie would mean you would lose him, and it was killing you keeping your feelings a secret.

Turns out that maybe you had just lost him anyway.

...

After the argument with Eddie you feel even worse and plan to cuddle in bed and shut off from the world just for a little bit.

Eddie had other plans. It isn't long before he's at your house, quietly letting himself in and making his way upstairs. He hated seeing you cry, it was like a punch to the gut and he was anxious to make it up to you.

He was also very keen to get to the root of the problem and why you were acting out so much today. Something was bothering you for you to act this way. He wanted to find out what it was.

Your quiet sobs reach him and it tears at his heart as he enters your room and finds you curled up on the bed. Hiding away.

Tenderly Eddie stokes your hair and you turn to face him. He wipes your tears away and sighs.

"You didn't have to come over so late. I know you're working early tomorrow" you murmur and he softens as he lays beside you.

"I'm my own boss. I make my own start time sweetheart. I had to see you. Couldn't sleep without my princess beside me could I?" He settles beside you and you smile.

"I'm sorry, I was bitchy. I didn't mean to be" he kisses your hair and nods accepting the apology.

"I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled at you or called you a brat. Please tell me what's wrong? You're obviously anxious about something" you bite your lip and he waits for you to say.

"I'm scared" you whisper to him and he feels heartbroken at this. He never wants you to feel scared or that you can't talk to him, you can talk to him about anything.

"Princess, you can tell me anything. You never have to be scared of telling me anything" he holds you close and feels you relax. You still hide your face in his shoulder as you work up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm in love with you, I know you don't feel the same way but I just wanted you to know. It's killing me not saying anything"

Eddie is stunned. This is what got you so worked up, that you were in love with him? Did you think he'd reject you?

Jesus h Christ, did you not realise that he was so in love with you too? He'd never felt this way about anyone. It scared him how deep his feelings were but he has been planning to tell you for ages.

He just wanted it to be the right time and be romantic. Turns out he had waited too long and you were thinking he didn't love you.

That wouldn't do at all.

"I'm so in love with you. How can you not see that?" Eddie caresses your cheek and you feel all of your fears slip away. You snuggle into him and peer up with pure joy on your face.

"I love you too Eddie"

All of this angst and shit could have been avoided if you had both just spoken up sooner. Both of you make a vow that night to always communicate your feelings.

But first a lot of making up was required ;)

[cosmicdahlias]

What You Deserve

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: HEAVY NONCON, smut, possession

i really went wild on this one i hope y’all enjoy

Ford has been worrying you lately. His sleep schedule is erratic, he barely eats, and it seems like he’s always talking to someone that isn’t there. But there is someone, you’ve come to know him as Bill.

In Ford’s words Bill is his muse, his inspiration. You hadn’t questioned it at first, it kept him so driven. But now things were different, Ford wasn’t quite the same as when you first met him.

You’ve never spoken directly to Bill, only when he speaks through Ford via possession. You never let Ford know but it terrifies you to see Ford so unlike himself. He turns wild, dangerous, unpredictable. Sometimes disappearing for days at a time and returning with no recollection of what transpired. One time coming back sporting a tattoo of a star on his neck that he had no memory of getting, but a tattoo was the least of your worries.

You’ve started to hate Bill for what he’s done to your partner. You fear the day that you turn on the news and see that the local mysterious scientist in the woods has turned up dead.

You secretly love him too. He captivated you, perhaps that’s why you cared so much. If he was just your coworker it wouldn’t keep you up as often as it did. You wanted to take him away from all of this, to just kiss him and tell him that there was more to life than being Bill’s puppet.

These thoughts consumed your mind as you sat at your desk going over your research notes. You were so in your head that you didn’t sense the looming presence behind you.

A hand grasped your shoulder, you jumped nearly a foot out of your chair. It was Ford.

“JESUS Christ, Ford. A little warning next time?” You gasped.

He released his hand. “Oh dear I’m sorry I hadn’t realized I’d scare you like that, you just looked so wrapped up in your own thoughts. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You huffed. “Yeah, it’s just… I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Oh? Perhaps I can take your mind off things.”

“How so?” You asked.

“Well for starters sweetheart I can rip off those clothes.” He cooed.

“What?” You stammered.

“You heard me.”

You blushed, this was so unlike him. “Ford are you feeling okay?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt more like myself.”

It was then you noticed his eyes, the yellow tint and catlike pupils. Your heart sank. Bill.

“I know it’s you Bill. What do you want?” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’m just doing old sixer here a favor. I’ve seen inside his mind and I know what he thinks about you. Thing is, he’s too damn shy to just go for it. So I figured, why not do it for him?”

You felt like a rock just sank to the pit of your stomach, you knew what that meant. Your thoughts quickly screamed at you to defend yourself. You knew you had a small knife in the drawer of your desk, but could you grab it before Ford, rather, Bill reached you?

You decided to take the risk, you shot up and darted your hand to the drawer, pulling it open. You quickly grabbed the knife and held it out in front of you. Your hands trembled.

Bill laughed coldly “That’s cute of you, but here’s the thing, you try hurting me and you’re just gonna kill Fordsy. And we wouldn’t want that now would we?”

Before you could say anything Ford descended on you, coming up behind you his hands gripping your wrists and wrestling the knife out of your grasp.

“Now listen to me toots, we’re gonna have some fun on behalf of my good old pal here. You can struggle all you want, but I think you and I both know he’s a lot bigger and stronger than you.” He said, running the knife against your throat.

You felt his teeth sink into your neck, rough kisses left at every bite mark, his hands traveling up and down your body. He hooked the knife underneath your clothes and began to tear away at the fabric, leaving your top half exposed.

You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, but you knew it would be in vain. Where would you run? To whom would you scream or cry to? You were all alone in a shack in the middle of the woods with a man possessed by a twisted demon.

The knife slowly cut away at your skirt, next your bra and panties. Ford kept a hand on your waist, the other still holding a knife to your throat.

“Now,” he said, his fingers massaging your breasts “I’m going to have my way with you.” His voice sent a cold chill down your spine.

In one quick motion Ford spun you around and forced you to the floor, hands holding down your wrists.

“But first, I think Ford deserves a good look at my work, don’t you?”

As you looked up at Ford you saw his eyes return to their normal whites and rounded pupils. He looked down at you, confused, then the horror set in.

“Y/n, what are you- oh god no, Bill what have you done?”

Before he could even remove his hands from your wrists his head snapped back violently, when he returned his gaze to you it was with the same terrifying look, Bill had retaken control.

Keeping a hand on your wrist he began to wrestle with his belt.

“I’ll never understand you humans and your complicated clothing.”

He slipped his pants low enough to reveal his cock, which was dripping with precum. You tried hard to fight against him but your efforts were in vain, Bill was right, Ford was stronger.

Sharply and violently he slid himself into you all the way to the base. You screamed from the pain and Ford let out a loud groan. He began to thrust hard and fast, growling and breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.

“Ah fuck, now I see why sixer wanted this so bad.” He hissed.

You felt your will begin to fade, you were stuck like this, there was nothing you could do, no one was coming to save you.

“I think Ford should feel this too, I never know if he feels anything I’m doing.”

His eyes reverted again, they widened.

“No no no, dear god, make it stop. I’m so sorry, y/n.”

Ford tried to fight it, he struggled to get himself off of you but Bill began to take hold again.

“Fordsy might be sorry, but I’m not. Quite frankly I always feel like you’re getting in the way of things, perhaps this will teach you to stay away.”

He resumed his brutal pace, the loud slapping echoing through the lab accompanied by his grunts and your whimpers. All you could see was his yellow eyes and wicked smile. This was pure hell, you wanted Ford, but not like this, never like this.

He could feel himself getting close, he grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your calves.

“Hahhh, hahhhh. I’m going to… make you regret ever agreeing to work with Ford. You’re gonna… keep your distance. You hear me?”

Tears began to stream down your face, you started to hope that Bill would just kill you after he was done.

Ford was fucking you at a punishing speed, as he forced a hand to your throat Bill released him right as he began to cum. Ford let out a deafening moan and his whole body shook. Everything went white for a few seconds, when his vision returned he was greeted with a frightening visual beneath him.

Ford let you go and backed up against the wall, he had to focus all of his attention on not vomiting.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

All you could do was lay on the floor, nothing felt real. Ford took off his trench coat and wrapped you in it. Tears began to fall down his face.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”

[arc-misadventures]

Time for it to happen.

Pyrrha mfk. Werewolf Jaune, vampire Jaune and normal Jaune

Pyrrha: MFK II

Nora: PYRRHA!!!

Pyrrha: AHH?!! Nora, you scared the daylights out of me!

Nora: Good! You should all learn to fear me...

Pyrrha: ...

Pyrrha: Okay...?

Nora: Now then! Are you ready for the ultimate question?!

Pyrrha: N-Nooo...?

Nora: TOO BAD!

Nora: Ahem.

Nora: Merry, fuck, kill...

Pyrrha: Oh no... not again.

Nora: Werewolf Jaune!

Pyrrha: W-Werewolf Jaune...?

Nora: Vampire Jaune!

Pyrrha: Vampire Jaune~?

Nora: And...! Normal human, Jaune.

Pyrrha: Normal Jaune...

Nora: So who are you going to... Marry... Fuck... and, Kill~?

Pyrrha: What if...?!

Nora: You can't, merry, and fuck all of them! Only one!

Pyrrha: Piss!

Pyrrha: Fine...

Pyrrha: I would kill... normal, Jaune...

Nora: And, why is that?

Pyrrha: Normal Jaune isn't as... as... exciting as the others...

Nora: How exciting are they~?

Pyrrha: Well... I would marry, Vampire Jaune.

Nora: And, why is that~?

Pyrrha: Well... I like the idea of, Jaune being a vampire, and he uses his... vampire powers to enthrall me. To seduce me with his magic, and for him to bite me, and make me one of his vampire brides...

Nora: Wow... I didn't expect you to be someone who's interested in those vampire romance novels.

Pyrrha: I like a good romance novel, okay!

Nora: I see...

Nora: So... does that you mean you want to fuck werewolf, Jaune then?

Pyrrha: Y-Yeah...

Nora: But, the real question then is... How do you want him to fuck you~?

Pyrrha: ...

Nora: (Wiggles her eyebrows)

Pyrrha: ...

Pyrrha: I want him to pin me down, tear my clothes off, strip me naked, mount me, and make me his personal breeding bitch, and pump me so full that I look like the real life human equivalent of the infamous pineapple gif...

Nora: ...

Pyrrha: ...

Nora: Fuck... that sounds so hot...

Pyrrha: Tee-hee~!

Nora: That's the second time I've heard it, but it's still just as hot!

Pyrrha: S-Second time?

Nora: Yeah, I asked, Rin the same question, but she gave me a slightly different answer.

Pyrrha: Different how?

Rin: I wanted, Werewolf Jaune to pin me to the ground, forcefully ripping my clothes off until I'm wearing nothing, but shredded rages. Where he would then forcefully penetrate me with his massive searing hot rode, until he dumps me so full that he pulls out it looks like the infamous pineapple gif. And, that he does it again, and again, until I sire his children as his personal breeding bitch.

Pyrrha: ...

Nora: ...

Rin: ...

Pyrrha: Fuck, that's hot...

Nora: Told you~!

[wildechildwrites]

Attitude Adjustment

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Light angst, violence

No use of Y/N

Summary: Ghost beats the shit out of you no I will not elaborate

A:N: Ghost's hands are rated E for everyone

AO3 Link: Attitude Adjustment

You're sitting in furious silence during the mission debrief, Gaz and Soap shooting you sympathetic glances that you pointedly ignore, Price's anger filling the room like natural gas, smothering you. Ghost leans against a wall, shadowed and silent. 

Price finally dismisses everyone else with a bark, and you’re left alone with your fuming captain and his silent lieutenant, haunting your peripheral. 

“You ignored a direct order.” Price’s voice is gruff, leaving no room for argument. You know you should apologize, but you can’t stomach it. Not when you saved his goddamn life.

“You think I was just going to let them kill you?” You ask, indignant. Price glares at you.

“I think, corporal, that you ignored a direct order from your commanding officer.” Price’s tone is sharp and dismissive. 

"You put yourself and the rest of your team in danger. You could've been killed. You almost were."

“But sir–” You object, still trying to justify yourself. If he would just listen– Price shoots up from his desk, stabbing a finger towards the door. 

“Don't fucking argue with me," He growls, chest heaving. "Get out."

You stand, stunned, feeling your traitorous tear ducts begin to sting. Ghost has offered nothing, and you catch his cold gaze before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind you. 

You knew you were out of line, had vaulted out of order the moment you ignored Price, the moment you ignored every instinct the military had beaten into you, but it wasn't fair. He would’ve pulled the same stupid bullshit if the situation was reversed. You scrub angrily at your eyes, potent rage bubbling in your chest. He was singling you out on purpose, angry at you for something he would’ve excused had it been anyone else. You turn a corner, stomping down the hallway. 

Soap is lingering near your room, acting far too interested in the leaky ceiling tiles. He spins around to face you when he hears your footsteps, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he can speak.

"Just don’t Johnny.” You snarl, aiming for a biting tone. It comes out as a plea, and the Scotsman gives you a pitying look that just stokes the rage curling in your chest. He steps in front of you, trying to slow your momentum, and you purposefully slam your shoulder into him, ignoring him as he calls after you.

You make a beeline for the gym, heading for a punching bag. Your fingers are numb, and you can’t stop shaking, so you throw yourself at the bag, hurling punch after punch. 

“Price ripped into you good.” Ghost calls out from behind you. You jump, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder in response. You hadn’t heard him come in, unsure of how long he’s been standing there.

“You ripped into him right back.” He observes. His gaze is cold, prickling along your spine. You bite your tongue, landing a hard kick on the bag. 

“Heard you also barked at Johnny.” He adds, as if an afterthought, his tone deceptively casual. You know then that you’re in real trouble. You’d been a bitch to Mactavish, and now Ghost was here to defend his honor. You roll your eyes, giving yourself that small amount of defiance before turning to face him. 

He’s wrapping his hands, standing on the sparring mat closest to you. He cocks his head, eyes flat and expressionless, but the challenge is clear. You're angry enough to take the bait, abandoning your punching bag. 

Ghost wordlessly gets into a fighting stance. You mirror him, waiting for the lecture, and the first blow almost knocks you on your ass.

You’ve sparred with Ghost before, but you don't think he's ever hit you that hard. It's staggering, and you double over slightly. Simon doesn’t give you a second to recuperate, throwing another punch. You barely dodge it, sliding under his arm, aiming for his ribs. You’re sloppy, and he blocks you, adding a shove to throw you off balance. It’s a dirty move, one that pisses you off even more, and you’re back on the defensive, protecting yourself as Simon throws another punch, harder than the first. You block it with more success, then move closer, aiming low. He blocks you again. 

You’re panting, already exhausted from the mission, heat in your cheeks, anger building. Ghost has the advantage, twice your size and fucking mean, and you’re just trying to defend yourself. That’s all you’ve been doing all fucking day, defending yourself from your own goddamn team. 

You kick him hard in the stomach. Ghost seems unaffected, those cold eyes unreadable. You throw another punch, putting all your weight into it, and he grabs your arm, using your momentum against you, flipping you over his shoulder. You slam onto your back on the mat. 

“What the fuck Si-” you snap, and he kicks you in the ribs. You scramble backwards, trying to regain your footing as he advances on you. 

“Price is too relieved that you’re still alive to give you a proper punishment for insubordination.” He says. "I have no such scruples." 

Ghost’s blank expression doesn’t change, not even when he slams his boot into your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto your back again. You glare up at him, your chest heaving.

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“You need to remember who your superiors are,” Ghost continues evenly, ignoring you. 

You go to stand, and he knocks you over once again. You practically snarl at him, shooting out and grabbing his leg. Using his body weight against him, you bring him crashing down onto the floor next to you, then slam your knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Your victory is cut short when Ghost grabs you and flips the two of you over, pinning you to the floor with his body weight. 

“You scared all of us,” he says. His eyes are still flat and cold. “Pull something like that again, I’ll pop your shoulder out of socket.”

You grapple against him, cursing, but he just tightens his grip, pinning your arms. It hurts, your shoulders and ribs screaming, the air being crushed out of your lungs by the weight of the giant man on top of you, but you keep fighting him.

“Get off,” you rasp. Ghost leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Are you done being a brat?” He asks lowly. You manage to twist one of your hands enough to dig your fingernails into his stomach. In response, Ghost grabs your wrist, pulling your arm behind you with enough force to wrench your shoulder. You’re completely immobilized.

It’s all too much. The exhaustion and pain, the anxiety of the mission, the humiliation of being reprimanded, the indignant rage that’s been bubbling inside of you. Everything comes crashing down, tears you’ve been fighting all day suddenly pouring out. You let out an involuntary sob, and Simon lets up, just enough to allow you to breathe, keeping you pinned beneath him as your tears build up steam.

“There’s our girl,” he says, his gravelly voice uncharacteristically soft, almost frayed. It only makes you cry harder, keening wails muffled by the large man on top of you.You're confused at the sudden switch, overwhelmed and disoriented. He rubs comforting circles into your wrist, and you’re falling apart, coming unspooled.

You sob until you run out of tears, your cries trailing off into sniffling, and only then does Ghost let you up. The anxiety and anger is gone, leaving tender exhaustion, the soreness from the fight a tangible sensation, grounding you. 

“I think a hot shower is in order, corporal” Ghost says gently, helping you to your feet. You’re wobbly, trailing after him on unsteady legs as he leads you to the locker room.

He leaves you to it, disappearing back into the gym, and you strip, letting the warm water wash off the rest of the day, standing under the stream until your eyes are drooping. 

To your surprise, Ghost is waiting for you when you get out, eyes closed, head resting against the wall. He looks tired, his dark circles a bruised shade of purple, showing through the half smeared off black paint. He opens his eyes, expression unreadable, and you sit down next to him.

“Apologize to Soap, will ya? He’s gutted. Sensitive, that one,” Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes, but there’s real warmth behind the gruff, dismissive tone of voice. “And the next time you want a lashing, come straight to me instead of stomping about.” 

Heat rises unexpectedly to your face, and you open your mouth to protest. 

Simon holds up a finger, silencing you before you can say anything. 

“Don’t fight me on it, we both know that’s what you needed. Price would've gladly taken you over his knee, but I figured you’d bite our heads clean off at the suggestion."

Your brain short circuits, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you stare at Ghost. He holds your gaze unflinchingly.

“I should, um,” you stutter, stumbling to your feet, “I should go find Soap.” 

You practically run to the doors, and you swear as you step into the hallway you hear quiet laughter, echoing behind you.

[chiwhorei]

【 Fᴜᴄᴋ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ. 】

╰┈➤ I found this?? In my drafts??

╰┈➤ Tags: no edit, drabble, NSFW, A/B/O, knotting, pain, pussy-drunk alpha!Kiba x fem reader

I think Kiba would nearly fuck you dead while he’s in heat. his knot would literally tear you in half and he’s always so worried about going too far. If he looses control, he could break you open cunt. first.

And that’s what you seem to want.

The way your pussy stretches to accommodate his fattened shaft makes his eyes gloss over. No one else has ever taken him like this even when he’s not in heat.

He used to fuck you like you were porcelain, bracing for the splintering of glass and never letting himself let go completely. Even on a normal day, Kiba would still the roll of your hips with stern, white-knuckled grip.

“Let’s not bite off more than we can chew, sweetheart.”

His voice barely passes between his teeth, his canines sharp and glinting brightly.

You’d let him eat you alive. And that fucking scares Kiba.

You’ve been flirting with the point of no return for a while now, grinding on his painfully hard cock when his heat comes on. Seeing how far you can push him until he rips you off of his lap and locks himself in another room.

You had to beg him to let you sleep over tonight, promising to tell him if he’s going too far- but nothing of the sort is coming through the unintelligible garble of moans and pleads your lips are spilling.

He’s been lapping at your pussy for what feels like hours, nipping at your sensitive clit with a measured bite- not too hard, he reminds himself. He’s playing with God tonight too.

Eating your pussy is all Kiba’s confident in doing while his heat is pouring molten lava into his veins, but tonight is the worst it’s been in a long time. Even his jaw feels like it’s on a hairpin trigger.

He should have left town, begged you to stay far away. But you wouldn’t have listened, you never do, and fuck, that makes Kiba’s cock pulse.

Your pussy is drowning him, giving and giving with no end in sight. How many times has he felt the spasm of your pussy against his mouth tonight? Kiba’s lost count. It’s only when you start calling out for him that he rips his mouth from your cunt with a growl.

“I need you Kiba, I need you so much it hurts.” The way your voice sounds like a cry for help makes him dizzy.

Even stone sober, Kiba can’t refuse you, he’s holding onto his resolve by his teeth. Your body’s writhing like liquid gold directly under the swollen shaft aching in his sweatpants.

“You know I can’t let you take my knot like this baby.” He’s begging you more than he’s telling you no. Begging you not to ask him again, because he’s running out of control by the second.

“Kiba please..” your voice is a sirens call, the last syllable still at the tip of your tongue as he’s pulling his pants down. His cock is rutty and thicker at the base than you could have imagined.

“If I tear you in half, just know that it’s your fault,” he pushing in as slow as he can, hand shaking a bit as he holds the tip against your twitching little hole.

Kiba lowers to his elbows, trapping you like a fawn in the jowls of a wolf. His teeth are barred as he pushes in, an inch farther, another, until you feel the swell of his base against your lips.

Fuck. You’re tight enough to be lethal. So taughtly stretched around his shaft that it’s almost painful. Kiba pushes his knot in completely, balls slapping against your ass. Your breath catches, eyes rolling to the back of your head and for just a moment Kiba worries he’s earnestly fucked you to death.

But then he feels it, your pussy constricting and relaxing around him like he’s so, so familiar with. Your hips start to buck in search for more. You need more.

“Kiba, fuck me like you’re trying to kill me. Please.”

How’s he supposed to say no to that?

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

❥ ᴄʜɪᴡʜᴏʀᴇɪ.2023©️ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

27 and 3 with poly boys? 👀 (if possible, it’s not us getting hurt, instead it’s one of the boys and we are helping care for them?)

3. Go back to your coffin

27. "I'm fine." "You're not, you're bleeding." "What?"

I hope you like this!

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

I smiled as Dwayne pulled me into a dance, a mellow rocksong playing in the background. The others were out for the night, deciding to hunt on their own. Dwayne had decided to stay with me, knowing how rare it was to have any actual one on one time. I loved the boys, and I loved spending time with all of them together. But moments like these, alone in his arms, being able to really be with just him for a moment - they were sacred.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You," I admitted, "us. How perfect it is."

"I'm glad you're happy," he said as he kissed me slowly, "I know it's a big change."

He was right about that. Going from zero boyfriends to four is a lot, and practically moving in after the first date wasn't a small thing either. Then, of course, there was the fact that they were vampires, and not only that - I literally belonged to them. I was destined to be with them, can you imagine that? It was a lot, but the boys understood that. They knew to take it slow, to let things grow on their own.

"It is," I said, "but I'm happy I found you four. I'm also really happy I don't have to change like, right now-"

Dwayne laughed, stopping the music suddenly as he heard stumbling outside.

"What's going on?"

"Paul got hurt," he explained, taking my hand as he rushed outside, me following close behind. "Paul?"

We stood there, seeing him stumble down the stairs, guided by David and Marko.

"What happened out there?" I asked as I rushed to his side.

"Werewolves. They saw us hunt, and they attacked. Paul just got a little banged up, is all."

I frowned slightly, pulling him into a hug. "I'm glad you three are home. Are the werewolves still around?"

Marko nodded. "They got away before we could do anything. We were too busy making sure Paul didn't get killed."

"Are the two of you okay?" Dwayne asked as he looked the others over. Marko shrugged, as David nodded.

"We should go inside," I said as I looked at the sky. "Is it me, or is it getting lighter?"

"Yeah, " Paul mumbled, sounding tired, "nights ending."

I held him, his arm laying over my shoulder as I guided him down the rest of the steps into the cave. I gently put him down on the couch as I looked him over, brushing some hair out of his face.

"Are you-?"

"I'm fine," he tried to brush me off, clearly trying to sound more healthy and awake than he actually was. I sighed, my left hand resting on my right shoulder as I felt something sticky. I looked, seeing my fingers were red. Blood.

"You're not," I said softly, looking him over again, "You're bleeding."

"What?"

I nodded, asking him to take off his jacket. There, on his side, was a bite. I froze. Marko had told me that werewolfbites were lethal to vampires.

"David!" I called, trying to keep my fear from sounding through. He was at the other side of the cave, talking with Marko and Dwayne about how to deal with the werewolves.

"What's - oh shit," he looked at me and then at Paul, who looked paler with the second. "Marko, I need the bottle! Dwayne, make sure a coffin is ready."

"What can I do?" I asked as I exposed the wound further so he could inspect it.

"I'm going to be okay, babes," Paul mumbled, sighing deeply.

"I know, I know you'll be." I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears. "If you're not, I'm going to make you regret it."

He chuckled weakly, hissing as David touched the ripped flesh. Marko handed him the bejewelled bottle. David popped the cap off, making sure it was still fresh enough before giving it to Paul. As he drank, slowly but surely, the wound began to close, stitching itself shut. Paul groaned, before passing out.

"He's-"

"He'll be okay," Marko gave me a reassuring look. "I also survived a similar wound. He'll be fine."

"I don't want to lose any of you."

"We don't either," David lifted Paul up, walking towards the back of the cave. "I'm glad you noticed it. If you hadn't, we could have been too late."

I nodded, shivering slightly. If I hadn't found it at the moment I did, Paul would have been dead. I looked up as Marko took my hand, taking me with him as he entered a deeper part of the cave. It was in a hallway next to their usual sleeping area, where four coffins stood.

"We don't usually sleep in them," Dwayne explained as he looked at my curious expression. "But they're best when we're hurt."

I nodded, grateful to see a normal bed standing in the corner, right next to Paul's coffin. I watched as the others laid down in their own coffins, sitting down on the bed myself. As exhausted as I was, I couldn't sleep. I needed to know Paul was okay, and the others would stay okay.

It was eight in the morning when I woke with a start, feeling a sharp thing pierce my finger. I glared at the thing disturbing my slumber when I realised it was none other than Paul.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, careful not to wake the others.

"I'm hungry, babe."

"I know I'm a snack, but I'm not a snack! I can fetch the bottle for you, if you need blood?"

Paul shook his head, stretching out his arm to mine.

"I want yours."

"Well, too bad, because that isn't happening."

"But babe!"

I shook my head, a stern look on my face. "Go back to your coffin."

"What?"

"Go back to your coffin. I love you, sleep tight, I'm going to see if David has some spare room for me in his coffin."

"Why?" Paul looked at me as if I had just told him his cat died. I'd never seen him with such an intensely hurt look before.

"Because I don't want to wake up being drained from my blood by my own boyfriend."

He pouted, sliding back in his coffin as he yawned. "I'll try again tomorrow," he mumbled before dozing off again.

"Try that," I sighed softly as I tiptoed out of my bed across the room until I stopped at David's coffin. The lid wasn't on it, and to my surprise, he was awake.

"Couldn't sleep either, hm?"

I shook my head, taking his hand as he helped me get in. "I was worried about Paul."

"Seems like he'll be okay, though."

"Yeah. Bastard already tried to take a nible from my finger," I showed David the shallow wound. He had a teasing grin on his face as he kissed it, slowly kicking the blooddrops off of it.

"You taste good."

"Can I sleep safely in here?" I asked, only slightly teasing.

"We'd never hurt you, darling. Sleep. Paul is going to be okay, and you won't be if you don't sleep enough."

I nodded, smiling softly as I got comfortable, my head laying on his chest. David was right. Paul would be okay.

[maximumkillshot]

"I Can't Lose You" Part 6

Warnings: Aftermath of a miscarriage, descriptions of grief due to losing a baby, Angry Everyone, Death is mentioned, Wanting Death, Shock, Grief, PTSD Flashback, Panic, there is a parallel to a person jumping off a bridge (NOT ACTUALLY)

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters:  Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: Ok if you read the above, you'll notice that anger is in the warnings. This is the first half of a chapter that had me crying as I wrote it. This is something that you all need to take into consideration... I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I AM SORRY IN ADVANCE ONCE AGAIN. My asks are always open for you guys to vent about this one.

Also remember, this is a fanfic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Previously:

He was mad at himself at those thoughts, Chris was so clearly into you so he used Bin’s insecurities against him… and it had worked. He thought about how all of this wouldn’t have happened and you and him would be happy together. That’s all he ever wanted for you. That was why he let you go in the first place. He wanted you to be happy.

After about half an hour of hushed talking, while Bin kept you relaxed, a set of footsteps walked down the hall. Just hearing them, Bin’s ears perked up. They had an authority to them, almost pompous in nature. Commanding… he knows those steps.

Now:

The minute Minho saw who it was entering the room his whole body went rigid, his hands in fists at his side as he got up and used his body to block whoever it was. He motioned for the boys to get closer to the bed. All of them standing, ready to jump. 

“Just let me talk to her,” Bin’s vision started getting blurry, on the verge of blacking out with rage. He looked down to you, very unbothered by the sudden voice that assaulted the tranquility of the room. The first tranquil moment you've had in months. Months of your husband hiding and sneaking. And months of you planning and working excitedly making every detail perfect. 

Bin made a split-second decision to lightly cover your ear that wasn't to his chest. Trying to prolong the inevitable. 

Next up was Han as he said in a hushed tone, “she’s finally asleep. You are not coming in this room, Chris.” His tone was dark and that one sentence rolled off of his tongue like a warning. 

“She’s my wife. I am going to see her whether you like it or not.” He sounded annoyed. Like this was an inconvenience. Bin did everything in the book to calm his heart, which was starting to spike at just hearing his voice. 

Bin went on an internal tirade, how dare he come here? Killing your child wasn't enough? Making you so stressed out that you almost bled to death wasn't enough? Ripping your heart out and trampling it… not enough for him? NOOO let's show up when it's convenient, when no one expects it, playing the 'husband' card. When Bin knew he CLEARLY gave up that title already. 

Especially when you did everything to be available for him. When he started to pull away you came to Bin and Han in tears, not knowing what to do. You love him so much that you actively went to find out what it was. Was it your weight? Did you talk too much or not enough? Did you ask for too much? Did you seem too boring? He has already been enough of a plague on your life already. 

Minho giggled darkly, “You really want to die today, huh? Did you not hear Han, she’s resting. Now go away.” 

“Not until I see her.” His voice raised slightly. The bite in his voice made Minho want to strangle him, to be honest. He doesn’t have any entitlement to you. Especially after what he’s done. As far as what Minho thinks, Chris was never your husband. No husband neglects their wife. No husband makes their wife lay awake at night, worried about if he had eaten or not, or if she’d even see him when she woke up. 

That was enough for you to stir on Bin’s chest. Bin had to think quickly as he said "It's okay, go to sleep, Angel. I'm here," in the most delicate whisper. That was enough to knock you out again, humming against his chest. 

Chris pulled back the curtain, even though Han and Minho tried their best to get him away. At that point, I.N, who was the closest to Chan, blocked him from your bedside.

“Get away from her.” He whispered, “She’s too fragile right now.”

Chris just looked at I.N. and said, “No one is keeping me from my wife, you’re lucky I even went along with it for this long. I’m not going to wake her.”

The venom in Chan's voice made the hair on Bin’s neck and arms raise. Not out of fear, no he could snap Chris in half if he was pissed off enough. His hair raised out of anger and knowing he couldn't do anything about it. The fact that Chan had the audacity to come into that room after what he did, knowing that you are fragile. That you barely made it out, and even now, you aren’t completely out. Yet there he was trying to force himself in. Like he had a right to be there, even though he was the one that caused it. 

I.N looked at Han and Han signaled him to let it go. 

Han knew that he was right, none of them had spousal rights. So technically Chris can kick them out, especially because she is still so weak, she can’t fend for herself or be able to sternly say ‘get out’ to her husband, not without consequences. They had no other choice. 

Bin looked at Chan as he took a seat next to the bed, taking in your sleeping form. His heart was breaking at seeing how weak you looked. Your cheeks were slightly sunken in and your face was completely pale. The dark circles dominated your eyes, making your face look more like a mummy as opposed to a living breathing person. He looked at your arm with a blood bag hooked to it. When he looked up at Bin he could see that it took everything in Bin’s body not to kill him.

Bin just mouthed to him, “What the fuck are you doing here, get out.” The more that he looked at Chan the more he wanted to rip him apart. He looked well rested, smelled like he showered, hell he even did his hair. That pissed Changbin off. You’d think that he would at least look more disheveled. Given, he could see that he did look worried and sad. He didn’t look guilty. 

Chris just ignored him and kept looking at you. Chris was transfixed on you. He was even more transfixed by your hold on Changbin. You looked like you were cuddling your favorite teddy bear. He remembered the last time you held him like that. Yesterday morning, when he came home to sleep for two hours, the minute the bed dipped you subconsciously reached for him, and he slightly rolled his eyes as he succumbed to his fate, smile on his face. You sighed so happily, you mumbled, ‘Mhmm missed you, love you,’ as you kissed his bare chest, and just like you’re positioned now, you were asleep. Now seeing you holding Bin like that makes jealousy more prominent in his mind. 

It makes him sick to think about all of this as he plays with his wedding ring, thinking about not feeling you again, your hugs, your breath on his skin. The moans that’d he pull out of you, soothing his soul. The looks that’d make his heart stop. The giggle that’d be forced out even if you were mad. Not having the feeling of your skin on his, these thoughts make him want to die. He’s trying to actively ignore it. He’s trying to ignore the fact that he did something so disgusting, so unforgivable that he lost you. For him, it’s easier to be angry, angry and convinced that you’ll come back. That’s why he is doing what he is doing. That’s why he walked with bravado into that room.

He went to put some hair behind your ear just to have some contact and I.N’s hand flew out and wrapped his hand around his wrist. His jaw set. Bin wanted to do the exact same but it’d jolt you.  

I.N. growled “No.. touching… get out of the room,” his brows furrowed, his usually soft eyes looking more like a piercing gaze. 

Being the maknae, he has never challenged Chan before… At all. There’s a good reason as to why he is challenging him right now. Innah has always felt like he was awkward. He didn’t really know where he belonged in the team. Yes, he has a good voice and yes he’s good with choreography but he never really hung out with people other than Seungmin and Felix. 

You being the person you are, you figured it out. He was watching one day, just seeing all of the members interacting, some of the older ones trying to bring him into the fold but it seemed ingenuine to him. Like he was the little brother that had to be included or Dad would get mad. You truly found the things that he loved interesting, really talked to him, and made him feel safe and welcomed. 

There was one particularly hard night for him. Nothing went right that day and he was tired, frustrated, and needed to feel safe. He didn’t know where to go or who to go to. So he called you without knowing why. You picked up and the minute he heard your voice he started crying. You ran to his dorm. No one else was home, and of course, Chan was nowhere in sight. So you stood with him, talked, and cooked a midnight dinner with him. Got him to laugh, you both passed out on the couch after watching some anime.

After that night that no one knows about except the boys in the Danceracha house, I.N. was just like Hyunjin, except he’d do drive-by hugs, sometimes just falling on you giggling and looking for hugs and head scratches, like the fox he is. There were other times when he would just stand behind you, put his chin on the top of your head and say, “What are we doing here Y/N/N…. I am BORED” as he’d flop on you, “Let’s get Ramyeon.” You’d laugh and say, “How about this… you get through today… and Ramyeon’s on me.” He still smiles at those memories.

So of course, I.N. would fight King Kong if he had to if it meant protecting you. 

Now, seeing Jeongin doing this, standing up to Chan, just to protect you, his Noona,  made everyone that wasn’t Chan smile. 

Chan stood up to his full height and said, “I just want to be here for her,” with a tight lip at the challenge of the maknae of his team. Chan can’t take the disrespect anymore. Even though he knows that he more than deserves to be treated like this and worse, he is still in that limbo of trying to convince himself that this didn’t actually happen or worse, that he can fix it.

Bin felt your grip tighten on him…

You said to yourself that you didn’t just hear that voice. You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiggled up a bit to bury your face into Bin's neck. You didn’t want the boys to see you cry. 

The cologne you just smelled when you were on Bin's chest, that was Chan’s cologne. The voice you just heard, that was Chan’s voice. There was a war going on in your head. Do you talk to him? Can you talk to him? What do you say? What does HE have to say?

“Y/N?” Chan said as his body snapped to you. Seeing you now burrowed into Bin’s neck and chest. 

It made the jealousy that he had before start to boil. That’s his wife, after all. Chan was your safety. He was the one you run to, not Changbin, of all people. Why does he fit so well next to you? Why does the feeling of you slipping away elicit anger at others, not himself? Why did he see you buried in Bin’s neck and not his own? It felt to him like someone was touching his favorite toy without permission. Why did she go to Bin for comfort and not him? 

“Y/N, Baby?” He asked a little louder…

“Stop calling me that,” you responded to him, muffled by Bin’s neck as you cried in your own dark cocoon, that was what you imagined when in Bin’s neck. Surrounded by him, he’d never let anyone near close. He was your safety bubble. 

Bin just moved his hand up to pet your hair back as you fought with yourself. 

The only one who knew you were crying was Bin, who felt your tears on his neck. They felt like acid on his skin, he could feel the pain through them, the fear, the rejection, the grief. He hated seeing or feeling you cry. The fact that you were comfortable enough to trust him with your fragility was the only solace in this for him. He knew that no one could protect you more than he could. That’s exactly what he’s going to do, protect you. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered as he turned his face into you, trying to hide as much of your face as he could, to give you more shelter to cry in. He hated that you had to go through this. You would think that for even one second his bonehead bandmate would put his own ego aside for just one fucking day to give you the room you desperately needed. It’s not even like he could make the excuse of thinking that you are going through it alone. It’s clear that you aren’t, Bin always took care of you. Sometimes Chan thought that it was the perfect deal for himself. He was married to you, so obviously you wouldn’t betray him, and Bin was so in love with you that he’d move Heaven and Earth for you. So Chan being distracted was never the issue, Bin was always there. In his head Bin was like a Knight protecting the Queen in a chess game. The king doesn’t have to worry about the Queen. 

Bin’s tone with you was gentle,“You tell me to get him out and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” His face read danger, eyes never leaving Chris.

You really didn’t know what to do. You are at a loss really. You just got about half an hour in nearly 30+ hours of being awake. One thing you do know is that you are feeling your pain uptick at the thought of leaving Bin’s neck. 

“Please, let me talk to you,” Chris pleaded with you. He tried to touch you.

Jeongin stopped him again, gripping his wrist. His grip was bruising in strength this time, “She did not say you could touch her. So you are keeping your hand to yourself. Either that or I rip it off, understand?”

Bin’s jaw was tight, if Chris made one more move, Bin was going to gently switch out with Seungmin, just to murder Chris, then switch out again so you could sleep, very simple. 

“At least let me see your face, Baby,” Chris said as he yanked his hand from I.N’s grip. 

Then you spoke again… your tone now carrying an authoritative air, “I told you not to call me that fucking name. I heard it enough when you were fucking her in our bed. Take that name and shove it, Chris.” 

“As for seeing my face, you don’t deserve to see it after what you did to me. Neither of you deserve to see my face.”

“Give us the room,” Chan ordered. He was doing his best to keep his composure and to try to gauge how much control he lost of the group. He is very much aware of the fact that the power dynamic has changed. Chan knows that they don’t even respect him, let alone trust him. Another thing that he knows is that he would feel the same way.

He’s also embarrassed, not at what he’s done but at the fact that his members found out. The fact that he was caught with his pants down, both literally and figuratively. The fact that his members watched him do something so amoral was something that he was pissed off about. Not as much at the fact that he had no moral compass, but it was the fact that they reacted the way they did. They screamed at him, Chris, Bang Chan, their elder. They challenged his authority left and right. The fact that they’re rebelling only added fuel to the fire. He wanted, needed to get control back. 

As far as he was concerned, this was all something that he could come back from. You love him, right? So obviously you’ll come back. You sunk 5 years into him, of course you’ll be back. There was far too many decent memories for you to check out now. You’re hurt, demoralized, angry, yes. However, knowing the peacekeeper you are, you’ll be back, he knows it. Why can’t they see that, why can’t they fight for him just as hard as they are fighting for you. Why can’t they get their noses out of his marriage and watch some K-Drama like they always do instead of driving a wedge further in between himself and his wife. 

The frustration alone made him want to lose his composure. Everyone has their role, that is something he is an avid believer in. To you, Chan is the protector, he’s the one to chase all the bad things away, he is your husband. Changbin is your friend, nothing more. So it drove Chan crazy to see you relax in Bin’s arms. 

He felt like Bin had no business in a bed with you. It being completely lost on him that he did the same thing, but worse with his wife’s best friend. Bin is not there to sexually gratify you, he is there to hold whatever’s left of you together. 

Bin is trying desperately to reassure you, to look at all of your broken pieces and help you, to let you know that he won’t let Chris close enough to hurt you again. 

When Chris ordered everyone to give him the room, not one person moved a muscle. All they did was look at you, waiting for an answer. 

Bin whispered to you, “Do you want us to leave?” Internally he was praying that you wouldn’t want him to go. He as well as the rest of the boys don’t trust Chris as far as they can throw him. 

You shook your head, “Can’t take it.” You knew that there would be no way that you could have this conversation alone, you’d be right back to square one. If you were honest there isn’t a way you can see this going well. You are still really weak. You can’t do much of anything at all yet, even needing help shifting in your own bed. Not to mention the person who did it to you is demanding an audience with you like you didn’t just go through a near-death experience and is barking orders at your boys. You couldn’t even scream at him for that. 

Bin looked at the boys and said, “We aren’t going anywhere, Y/N’s orders.”

With that all of the boys had a seat, smiles on their faces as if to say try us, we dare you. 

Chan’s face turned hard at that. It was worse than he thought… Not only did he lose control, he handed all of it over to you on a silver platter. Chan is an A personality type. He is very particular, one of those places he’s particular about is that he is the Alpha. He is the leader, the spearhead. So for everyone to do this, made him not only mad, but scared. He isn’t used to not being in control. That made his tone harsh as he barked,“Look, I know that you are in pain and I know that you don’t even want to see me right now, but we need to talk in private.”

Immediately I.N. bristled and took a step to him, Minho getting up and claiming the bottom half of the bed, looming on the post of it, glaring at Chan.

Felix growled, “Watch your tone, you aren’t the one calling the shots, Chris.” as he bore daggers into Chris’ forehead, standing at the ready. 

You didn’t respond and Chan said something that made your blood boil,something he knew you couldn’t ignore, “It was mine too.”

It..IT?! Your heart cracked again as you left your cocoon, “IT?!” You raised your voice. You winced at the pain the movement caused. “MY child was not an IT… THEY WERE HERE CHRIS.” You grabbed your stomach, feeling your diaphragm scream at you to be quiet, your abdominals agreeing full-heartedly. “YOU gave up ANY parentage by fucking someone else when we were trying to have a baby for TWO FUCKING YEARS!”

“WHAT?!” Han exclaimed. Han started to see red, yet again… Han thought to himself, They were trying to have a baby for 2 years?!. Han looked briefly at everyone else, their faces set in the same murderous stare that resided on Han. 

Meanwhile, Bin didn’t let that sink in, he was too busy noticing you started looking slightly confused and woozy. Whatever little color you had was turning more grey by the second.

“Y/N you need to breathe,” Bin tried to remind you. He tried his best to guide you back down but you weren't having it. Your anger taking control. He had a sinking feeling as his own heartrate picked up.

You thought for a few minutes and said, “I still can’t believe it, you know? It’s like last night was a horrible nightmare but, the pain, the blood… It really happened. My baby is really gone.” A stray tear ran down your face, “I don’t want to believe it. It hurts too much. But my body knows. It feels different. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t… I can’t…”

Bin was watching your heart rate, the last time you tried to revisit this, you had to be sedated and apparently, Han is thinking the same thing. He looked at the monitors and got a bad feeling. 

“I just wanted to surprise you, to show you how much I love you! To let you know that I am there for you and you repay me by emotionally cheating on me with my BEST FRIEND for a YEAR and physically cheating for two whole months?! NOW YOU WANT A PRIVATE CONVERSATION?! How is this for a private conversation.” You felt your body starting to fail again. The rage coursing through you is the only thing keeping you aware of your surroundings. 

Chan went to look away, he couldn’t see you hurting this much. He couldn’t come to the realization that he did this to you. You screamed with what little energy you had , “LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD!” as you held your stomach, trying to control the new waves of pain.

When he looked at you, you said, “Here’s a little private conversation for you. I’m granting your wish. You said to her ‘I can’t wait to leave her’... Guess what?” You gritted out, “I’m leaving you!” you started spiraling back into what happened not even a full 24 hours ago at repeating his sentence back to him. Hearing those same words in your head, seeing the blood, the reality of it once again slamming into you like it did before. 

The minute that last sentence left your lips, the world slowed down for Chris. He saw everything, the wedding, the laughs you both had. Even the simple things like how whenever he got up, which was always well before you woke up; he’d stare at you, brushing your cheekbones with his knuckles. Watching your peaceful form and marveling at how effortlessly gorgeous you are. Now as he watches you, seeing the shreds of you that were left, he had a realization. He realized all at once that the person he loves and has always loved is dead. She’s dead, along with his child, because of him.

You started staring off tears freely falling, “I just want my baby… Bin, I want my baby.” 

Your heart rate started climbing fast as you stared at your lap, seeing blood that wasn’t there anymore, then blinking and it disappearing, your face began to show distress, as tears started falling, and your mouth opened letting out rapid puffs of air. Bin looked at Han and yelled at him, "Get the nurses, go!" The next second Han ran out the door as the alarms went off on the monitors. 

Bin looked at you and said, “Hey look at me, stay here with me, Angel.” Then he looked at Minho and said, “Clear the room. Get Chan out of her NOW!” Minho immediately started getting everyone up and out of the room as fast as possible. 

Chris slowly backed up until he hit the wall,everything moving in slow motion. He looked at the monitor, seeing your ungodly fast heart rate. The fact that you could die right now from a heart attack made him want to collapse to his knees and start praying. Chris was watching how Bin handled you, tears were starting to sting in his eyes. He was shaking, feeling the gold of his wedding band as he watched a man who was so much more than he could be. How delicate he was with you. Why did I do this? 

He was staring at your face, he could see it, the heartbreak. He wanted to help, to take all of it back. Flashes of memories flickered in his mind. All of the opportunities he had to be with you but chose not to. All of the times that you would try to save him from himself, even if it was as simple as reminding him to eat. He’d yell at you and tell you that he was a grown up. I’m not grown. You’d remind him to get up and stretch, to be present in the now.  You always tried to connect to him, always tried to soothe him, always tried to bridge the gap he put in between the both of you. His heart felt like lead, sinking further. His voice, his legs, his body didn’t move. It was Innah who dragged him out of the room by the collar.

Bin looked back at you, “Y/N…” He could see, you were completely dissociated. 

You weren’t responding to him at all, eyes glazed over as your heart rate kept climbing, you were glancing around, clearly confused. What he didn’t know is that you felt everything at once. You could hear him like he was underwater. Your vision was blurry, and you really couldn’t feel anything aside from the pain in your chest at the thought of anything, because you felt guilty.

“Angel, look at me, try to breathe for me. Come back to me.” 

“They should be here, not me. My baby didn’t deserve that Binnie. I want to hold my baby!” You screamed, “I want to take them a bath, feed them, I want my Baby.”

Bin realized then that it’s the reality that’s so painful. Everything that was around you reminded you of the fact that you were living and your child wasn’t. He could see the pain on your face as he gently held your face, trying to get through to you. “I know you want to hold your baby, I want that too. I want that so badly but I can’t give you your baby, that can’t happen. No one can bring your baby back, Angel.” Tears were rolling down his face at seeing you like this. Your eyes were constantly searching as more tears fell from them, he tried to wipe the tears away as fast as they rolled down your cheeks.

 Bin got behind you, caging you with his arms and chest. He pulled you flush to his chest and ran his hands up and down your arms as he slowly rocked you. He was trying to provide enough stimulation to get you back to being able to self-regulate. You were only getting worse as he watched helplessly. He tilted your head back to see you spiraling further down, “Binnie help me. I want my baby please.” You just wanted to let it consume you already. 

You quaked as you wished out loud, screaming without even knowing it, “Please, just let me die, let me go, I want my Baby.” You knew it was the pain, but at this point, not having your child was worse than death. You screamed without fighting anymore. Sometimes the seconds would stretch as you screamed till no air was left to make a noise. Those sobs made you feel like your chest was in a car crusher. You couldn’t stop them no matter how hard you tried, but in your mind, there was no point in stopping them. 

Changbin’s blood ran cold hearing you say that, feeling as if he got dunked in an ice bath. He choked on his own breath as he did his best to try to get his own voice to work. You may not want to be here right now, but he’s going to make sure that you make it. He looked into your eyes and they were completely dilated, you just lay on Bin’s chest as you made the decision. You were done fighting, the pain was too much. Bin felt it, he could feel the fight leave you as you went limp, crying. 

He knows this feeling… this was the same feeling that he felt when you were losing consciousness. His gaze snapped to your eyes, no fight, no struggle. You looked like you were calling out to Death. You wanted it so badly. What was worse was that Death was answering, he could feel it in the room. Cold, dark, and looming. 

His body went into overdrive, the shock melting into panic. He wasn’t going to let Death take you, “Han hurry up, she's slipping!” He screamed at the door. His scream didn’t sound like him. The sound akin to a bystander watching a loved one jump from a bridge. Watching the body disappear all because of one step. He couldn’t wouldn’t let you fall. He screamed as if he dove for your hand, the same hand that fits so perfectly in his, as you threatened to disappear over the ledge of that bridge.

Bin got closer to your ear, so you could hear him better, “Please don’t say that. I know it hurts, just stay with me, hold on. I’m here. Stay with me. You can’t leave me here, please.” Changbin tilted your head, so you could hear his heartbeat. Subconsciously thinking, If you go I go. He gently wrapped his arm across your breastbone, trying to provide some soothing pressure to your chest. His hand resting on your opposite arm, rubbing the meat of it in a soothing pattern. His other hand was petting your hair. The hold he had you in gave you someone to hold on to. As soon as his forearm rested you wrapped your hands around it, grabbing his hand as you dangled on the ledge.

“Binnie it hurts, pleaseee. Help me, it hurtss.” You sobbed, your voice cracking and breaking, a mirror of your soul. Bin continued to slowly rock you, “I know Angel, I know I want to take it away. Just hold on for me. Hold on to me.” He had no idea how he was able to be calm for you. A part of him knew that he needed to. He was not going to collapse so you could face all of this on your own. He refused. He needed to fight for you, and he would, for eternity if he had to.

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

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[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Ngl, you were one of the first tumblr blogs that awakened the monsterfucker in me, did not ever expect I would be here, uhh I love your work especially the alien pet one!! Anyways uhhhh can I request an NSFW cannibalistic giant x human reader, can be any gender, idk if this classifies as monster or not idk??

Sorry this took so long!

(Requests still closed, old request)

*NSFW* Yandere!Cannibalistic Giant x GN!Reader

Short drabble CW: death, abduction, animal death, no lemon just lime, non con touching, NSFW, hands-free orgasm

"Stop ignoring me."

Numb and silent, the abducted human sat as motionless as a living corpse. They had fought back for the first few weeks, crying and begging for their life, attempting escapes whenever they thought they had an opening, but now (Reader) understood that they truly had no hope of ever leaving the giant's side alive, and it killed them before he had a chance to.

When the campsite was attacked, they watched as their friends were torn apart, limbs easily ripped off of their bodies and devoured right in front of them. In the roulette of fight, flight, or freeze, (Reader) threw themselves at the monsters mindlessly, despite being barely thigh height in comparison. They stabbed one of the giants with a barbeque poker, but it barely pierced his thick flesh. He didn't even let out a sound of pain; it was like (Reader) had thrown a pillow at him and not attempted to spear him.

The fiery haired giant (Reader) had attacked picked them up by the back of their shirt like a cat, examining them long enough for their adrenaline to dissipate.

Shockingly, he did not eat them like he did their friends.

Instead the bloody giant hoisted (Reader) over his shoulder and left his brethren to continue the carnage.

For weeks the traumatized human sat by the giant's side, inescapable. He never hurt them, but threatened them nearly every day.

"If you try to run again, I'll bite your legs off."

"Such a pretty little human; I'm sure you taste just as good as you look."

"When I finally scalp you, your hair will make a fine necklace."

It became monotonous, the threats of harm and death, so when the young adult finally cracked, the words didn't startle them into reacting, even when he escalated his taunts.

"I told you to stop ignoring me." He warned, grabbing his victim under the arms like a child and raising them up to eye level. (Reader) felt as though they couldn't will themselves to care. Their life was already over: there was no hope.

He opened his mouth as wide as he possibly could, and slowly placed his captive's head inside. When he couldn't feel them squirm he slid them in deeper until his teeth scraped their collar bone and upper shoulder blades. His teeth gently dug into their skin. It was supposed to be intimidating, a reminder that at any moment he could and would eat them, but when he still couldn't feel them move he pulled them back out, his eyebrows knitted together in what was either concern or disappointment.

A loud chuckle rumbled like thunder from another giant who had been watching with amusement from across the way. "Uh oh, Pinyon! Looks like you broke your new toy!"

The abductor harrumphed before carrying (Reader) somewhere private, grumbling out a venomous sounding "They aren't my toy.."

In the seclusion of his tent, he suddenly had a change of attitude, acting in a way he had never done before. He pressed his face against their stomach while holding their back in a fashion that felt like a caress. Tears formed out of confusion at the seemingly tender action. They had already accepted their death, so why was he hugging them?

"Interesting little one.." the giant's voice vibrated across their abdomen. "Please do not ignore me.."

When he was a child, Pinyon found a squirrel that had fallen out of a tree. He didn't know what was wrong with the animal, but it seemed injured, and it sounded like it was struggling to breathe. Meat was meat. It didn't matter what the meat was, everything the tribe found was food for them, whether it was animal or human. However, this wasn't a conquest, it wasn't a fight. It was his first struggle. The poor thing was struggling.

Pinyon picked up the little creature, unsure of why his chest felt so heavy. The thing bit him. It didn't hurt, and it didn't anger him. It made him happy. To see it fight back. The action showed Pinyon that the squirrel was still alive, and that it was going to be fine. He cared for the squirrel as tenderly as a human cared for a pet dog; bringing it food and gently trying to nurse it.

Then, the squirrel died.

That was it. He went to feed it, and it was limp. There was no sound, no blood, it just stopped.

When you're raised to eat whatever is given to you, when you're told that "meat is meat", it's easy to forget that the creatures screaming for mercy are alive.

He didn't know why, it wasn't the first time someone had fought back, and it wasn't his first human kill..

But the look on the little human's face as they leapt out at him with a pitiful excuse for a weapon reminded him of that squirrel.

"It doesn't matter if you hate me, or if you're scared of me. Even if it's to scream at me, don't ignore me."

The brief kindness was over in a second, the confusion and hope leaving (Reader's) body as quickly as it came. Just as the tears began to form and the weight lifted off their shoulders the giant squeezed them closer to his face and breathed in deeply. Wearing only their tattered undergarments, his breath felt hot against their bare stomach. It was an intimate gesture that gave birth to a new kind of fear, one that (Reader) hadn't previously considered.

His wet tongue left his mouth and poked their gut.

It wasn't the first time he had tasted them, but there were no promises of pain and consumption this time; instead there was a half lidded expression on his face that made (Reader) instinctively clamp their thighs shut.

Their hands flew to his face as they pathetically attempted to push him away with all of their strength. But the struggle seemed to excite him more, as he began licking their stomach more intensely, planting kisses along the tops of their pelvis as he traveled lower down their body.

"STOP!" (Reader) cried out as they bruised their fists on his forehead. Their body was quivering involuntarily as his drool began to mix with their sweat, dripping down towards their underwear. Pinyon's lips were too close to their last shred of apparel, and they felt shame as his breath tickling their body felt physically pleasurable.

"Is this what I need to do now-" his words agitated their sensitive body, making them arch their back in an attempt to put distance between is mouth and their crotch, "-so you'll stop ignoring me?"

(Reader) loudly sobbed, knowing that he could see how wet their clothing had become. It wasn't because he was attractive, or because they wanted him. The way he was holding them, the warm words hitting their lower half, it stained their underwear with arousal. The abductee wanted to beg him to look away, to explain that it wasn't him, that they weren't turned on. But only sobs came out as his sharp teeth slid into the underpants' belt line and tore their last line of defense down to their ankles.

[luveline]

could you do one with aaron or spencer?

maybe reader and hotch/reid are on a case together and end up being taken hostage by the perp and then reader has a panic attack while they’re stuck, just them two and the perp in the room, and hotch/reid comforts her??

💕💕

ty for ur request ♡ —hotch calms you down when you panic while being held prisoner. fem!reader, 1.1k

cw criminal minds typical gore and violence, reader having a panic attack

The floor is spotted with blood spots like black mould, a fine spray of dark red interrupted by the place where you'd been kneeling. Pulled back now, the unsub has you handcuffed to a pipe under a snug sink, short, your neck bent to fit. You think I won't fucking kill you? Sit still.

You're trapped. Tied and trapped, waiting for the unsub to snap. And the worst part is that Hotch is here to watch it happen. 

Hotch tried to de-escalate the situation, and for the most part it worked, but the unsub has yet to let you go. He stands panting and lilting from side to side, barrel of a gun tapping bruises into his temple. Every thwack makes you jump, sure that this will be the moment he turns his pistol on you. You're trained for this, you know what to do, but training can't prepare you for the reality of a hopeless situation. 

You're going to die here. Hotch is going to die here. 

You can't breathe. Legs crossed, you're slouched into yourself, the flat of your chest tight like the air has been suctioned from your lungs. The room is dark, shadows bouncing in the corners. The only light comes from a yellow strip above the sink mirror. 

"Fucking stupid," the unsub mutters, his voice choked with tears. "Stupid, stupid." He sounds agonised. 

You've all the raw panic of a bear trapped in metal maws, sharp pain at your wrist like certain death. You've given up on breaking free, rivulets of blood streaking from the broken skin ringing your arm down to your elbow. Every breath teases another drop. 

"Breathe," Hotch says, the metal on his cuff rattling. It's the first time he's moved since he woke up, a picture of calm while you'd been ragging yourself raw. "Y/N, listen to me… Take a nice, deep breath." 

"Shut up! Did I say you could talk?" the unsub seethes.

"My talking won't affect how this situation ends," Hotch says, with the gentle tone he uses while speaking to victims. "But if she panics, you won't be able to control her. I can calm her down." 

"Shut up shut up! Make her shut up!" 

Hotch's handcuffs rattle again. "Y/N, give me your hand. Reach out for me." You shake your head, your one free hand wedged between your legs. "Reach out for me. Please." 

You try to keep your gasping contained, that pushing, pulling war for air, a pervasive ache all the way to your fingers. You slide your hand across the floor. Hotch can't reach you fully, but he can lay his fingertips on top of yours. They're cold for once.

The unsub changes his mind, irate, a hacking cough of a voice as he grabs you by the back of the head and forces you up, ripping your hand away from Hotch's. "Fucking useless bitch. Keep your head up or I'll kill you. I'll kill you." 

You bite back a sob. You truly can't breathe, the panic attack twisting and twisting like a hand between your ribs, a corkscrew opener, your hyperventilating a white hot heat that eats up your throat. 

"You have to let me calm her down," Hotch says.

The unsub grabs you by the hair and turns to Hotch with fury on his face. You frown at Hotch through tears in a plea for help, knowing there's nothing he can do and wanting it desperately anyways. His eyes set, the line between his brows deepening, and his voice hardens. 

"I promise you that if you keep hurting her, I'll pay it back tenfold," Hotch says. 

The unsub lets you go, but his voice is dripping with smarm as he drawls, "Opposed to the gentle care I'd receive otherwise." 

Hotch pulls at his cuff, the radiator pipe it clings to buckling but not breaking under his strength. The unsub doesn't like this, doesn't like anything, and his splitting personality shifts away from cruelty and toward regret once again. He retreats to his corner. 

"You're okay," Hotch whispers, ignoring the other body in the room. "Honey, you're alright." He has a talent for surprising you, the pet name he uses like a soft touch even while your hands are bound and you're held apart. "It's going to be okay. I promise you that." 

"I'm– I can't breathe," you force out.

"Yes you can. I'll do it with you." 

Hotch looks at you steadily. "Breathe," he mouths, his face relaxing. He forms an 'o' with his lips and demonstrates a slow exhale, a bigger inhale. 

You follow his command. Hotch holds your gaze for what feels like hours but is more like ten minutes. He breathes in and out with a reassuring look about him, as though the unsub isn't there, as though you aren't both covered in blood and sitting in the gore of a dead calf. 

Your terrified panting turns to sorry sobs and then to gutted sniffles. Later, you'll feel embarrassed for losing your cool at a time that was so high stakes. Now, you unfold your legs and stretch them out, pressing the side of your shoe to Hotch's. He presses back

Morgan finds you, of course. You never should've doubted him. He floods the building with SWAT and takes your unsub alive personally. He's an amazing agent, a better friend —when he uncuffs you, he pretends not to see the way you crawl toward Hotch. 

Emily uncuffs Hotch at the same time, his big hand quick to hold your face. Then, in the same second, he wraps his arms around your shaking shoulders. 

"I'm sorry," you say, remorse thick on your tongue, apology squeezed out like a scared little kid's.

"Careful of your hand, your wrist. Don't hurt yourself worse." His voice drops to a murmur, for your ears alone. "Don't panic yourself again. Everything's okay." His hand moves down your back slowly, firmer now, "I got you." 

"Actually, I've got you," Morgan says. "Can you guys walk, or should I call in the EMTs?" 

Emily scoffs. "Morgan." 

Hotch drops his head back against the wall and sighs a long-suffering sigh. You can't see the relieved slouch of his shoulders, or the daunted look he sends Morgan. Your panic took more out of him than he's willing to show you. 

"I'll call them in," Morgan says decisively. 

[ronearoundblindly]

:peers out the window:

hey is that your bf sitting on the stoop?

(ok ignore that there are people in the background)

Ransom Drysdale x rich!reader from The Root of All Ransom

Warnings for--act shocked 😮--cursing and an argument (fluffy). WC short, maybe ~500

You've left dinner simmering on the stove to check for where your fiancé's gone off to.

He's outside, hunched over in the cold on the brick stairs leading to his wooded backyard.

Ransom rarely looks contemplative, but there he is, spinning his pinky ring and staring like he could melt it down by thought alone.

"Hugh," you call as you slink through the sliding door, "everything okay?"

Ran pulls a sharp breath through his nose and sits up.

"Fine."

That's a bit too dismissive for you.

"What's wrong with your hand? Does it hurt?"

With a shake of his head, he scrunches his nose and lift his palm higher.

"I think it's gonna feel weird." He spreads his fingers and pinches them back together. "Not gonna work side-by-side."

"What isn't?" you ask, sitting down beside him.

Ran just sighs and looks off into the trees. "A wedding band."

The man perpetually loathes change, and it's become your default to assure him very little ever will. Doing the average thing is boring. Ransom hates to be bored or boring. He always needs control over his appearance, too.

"If it bothers you that much then don't get one."

His head snaps up as you continue.

"It's just a ring, Hugh, and you know that if you ever cheat on me, I'll just have Dubois kill you," you shrug, a playful glint in your eye, hoping to make Ran laugh. "I'm sure he'd even do it for free."

Eyes angry and frowning, Ran scoffs. "He and I reached an agreement of mutual indifference...and I'm getting a fucking wedding ring."

Ok, so it's your turn to laugh instead.

"It's not funny. We're getting married, and I'm gonna have a fucking ring!" The bite in his tone is dead serious and utterly hilarious.

"Yeah, makes sense."

"Why would I not wear the goddamn ring?" he snaps. "You fucking better."

You have to tuck your lip into your teeth to stop smiling. "It sounded like you didn't want to."

His arms shoot out, chest broad and wide open, aghast. "You asked what I was thinking about, so I fucking told you."

"It's okay to be nervous, honey--"

"I'm not nervous," he barks.

"--because there's a lot going on right now. I get it--"

"I was just thinking--" he rips the pinky ring off his hand and shows you the chunky gold emblem "--I'd have to get this little piece of shit resized, for fuck's sake, not that I wouldn't want to wear a goddamn wedding ring! What the fuck, woman?"

You have to cover your mouth and snort, tearing up in amusement at his ire.

"Sorry," you wheeze, "you looked so serious. I thought--oh wow--I thought you--you're so dramatic." It ends on a cackle you can't hold back.

Ran's brow furrows.

"It's a practical concern."

You fail to compose yourself.

"I'm serious," he repeats. "It's a perfectly legitimate train of thou--why are you still laughing? Stop!"

You wipe your face to help relax your muscles and do as he asks.

"I know," you whisper. "I get it, Hugh. I do."

Of course, his eyes remain fixed on you suspiciously, especially when your hands cup his rosy cheeks.

"So sentimental," you coo.

"It was a normal idea I was thinking through, goddamn it."

You hiss and cluck your tongue. "Ouch, that must have hurt."

"Hardy fuckin' har," Ran gripes, swatting away your hands and shuffling to bully you into his lap, one of your feet landing on each of the steps, his arms wrapping your waist in a bruising hug.

You keep smiling at him while carding through his hair.

"Sentimental," you observe softly.

Ransom presses himself into your unscarved and bare throat, muttering "bitch" with the utmost appreciation.

You kiss the top of his head before burying your chilly fingers beneath the neck of his thick sweater.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I promise."

He grips you even tighter.

You two stay like that for a long time, which is fine, because dinner needs to simmer.

::very, very, very long evil laugh::

((I always feel like I should skip tags for really short stuff, ugh. IDK yet.))

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]