#but he would gaslight me like he did last time he will never change no matter how much i wish he would

[rey-jake-therapist]

"Sauron is not enough evil and scary in Rings of Power"

Because he was scary in LOTR?! That thing is scary to you?

I'll tell you what : Sauron's eye in the movie NEVER scared me. Not even a little bit. I remember that the first time this big ridiculous eye appeared on screen, we all chuckled because... "That's it? that's Sauron?" . And the least that we can say, it's that in terms of personnality... Well he has none, right? The conversations must be nice:

"Hey Sauron, how are you today?

Sauron: RING! RING !!! AHHhrhzjjjjjjj RING!!!!!!!

Oh yeah, the ring, sure Boss. Anything else you need?

Sauron: RIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!"

Fascinating.

I hate to break it to you, but movies Sauron is BORING. He's boring because he's hardly an entity. He's more a concept, and at the end everything about him rests on what the characters tell us about him: that he's extra evil, very cruel, a tyrant, obsessed by the One Ring, yada yada. But since he's no more than this giant eye on a tower, he never becomes tangible. We believe he's evil because that's what everybody says and also because of what his unpaid employees do, but he never gets to do anything himself, so we don't really see it.

Shelob scared me. The Nazguls terrified me. Heck, I was more afraid than Gollum than I was of Sauron. Don't laugh, did you see his teeth? I would be at least afraid to catch an horrible disease if he bit me...

In ROP, however, Charlie Vickers nails it as Sauron. He may not be literally on fire, but his evilness and his cunningness are palpable in season 2. I mean, the way he treats Celebrimbor?! If that's not sheer cruelty I don't know what it is, and it will get even worse in the episodes to come. Sauron doesn't take no for an answer. He tortures Celebrimbor, not physically but psychologically to bend him to his will. Since day #1, he lies constantly to Celebrimbor, flatters him, tells him what he wants to hear, gaslights him, isolates him from his people, nearly drives him to madness and only at the end, threatens to destroy his city if he doesn't do what he wants... That's not evil enough for you?? Oh, and add "creepy" on the list too, for this poor girl he keeps being weird with.

And as for the scary side of Sauron: Charlie proves to be an excellent actor when he manages to express his moments of contained rage through his micro expressions. For example, every time Celebrimbor resists him, his face changes enough for the audience to see he would tear the poor man's eyes out if he could, but it doesn't last long, blink and you miss it ! Same in the last episose 6, when King Durin refused to deliver more mithril to him; it was so obvious he wanted to kill the old man on the spot, but he's patient, he'll let the Balrog do it for him. Because yes, he's vicious and likes to keep his hands clean, so he tells animals do the job for him when he can!

But it's there, and we already got to see a glimpse of the sheer fury that can possess him when he loses control : in Numenor, when he beat the shit out of the men who had mocked him, and on the raft when Galadriel rejected him. That was probably just a forestate of what we can expect from the next seasons, folks.

By the way, I wrote all this with love. I love that TROP made Sauron tangible. I can see the threat he is now. I understand why everyone during the LOTR is terrified at the idea that he may come back. And I don't want anyone to fix him, mind you...

TROP Sauron, stay as you are, get much worse, PLEASE!

[opheliac]

it really doesn't feel like there's any safe spaces for me to actually take apart and work through what happened to me as a child and a teenager, and it hurts me so much because i want to get over it but i cannot do it alone.

[niningtori]

mastermind | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you should be used to your relationships failing by now, but after finding out your boyfriend, yeonjun, cheated on you, you're devastated yet again. and beomgyu, your best friend, is there to pick up the pieces, just like always. but isn't it a little odd that things just never seem to work out?

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI), yandere

warnings: YANDERE!GYU, manipulation, gaslighting, SMUT (MDNI!) creampie, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, degradation, if i missed anything pls lmk!

word count: 5.1k

notes: ... hi. i'm reposting this with major edits but i hope you all still like it!

｡o.ﾟ｡*･♡♡･*｡ﾟo｡ ｡o.ﾟ｡*･♡♡･*｡ﾟo｡

do you love your boyfriend? of course. do you trust him? of course. so are you surprised to see a photo of him very clearly making out with another woman? well, of course.

your friends, your family, and even passersby would simply tell you you shouldn’t be, though. yeonjun used to be very well known for his sexual escapades, so when you announced he was your boyfriend, nobody was particularly happy for you. especially not your best friend in the whole world, beomgyu. 

“he’s just gonna hurt you, just like the last one!” 

you remember flinching at this. you remember how hurt and indignant you felt at the time. you also remember the silent treatment you gave him, and the cold war that began shortly thereafter. he apologized afterwards, of course, but you had asked him what was so bad about you that he couldn’t just believe that yeonjun had changed for you. he was silent at this, which only made you even angrier. it was all pointless in the end, you suppose.

as you sit on beomgyu’s couch, your phone rings again. you have a special ringtone for yeonjun, so you don’t even bother to check the caller id before you silence it. he’s been calling you incessantly since you texted him that you saw the picture and were done with him. your face is downcast and if you weren't so consumed by your sadness, you'd notice the faint look of delight in beomgyu’s eyes. 

“i think you should just block him,” he says as nonchalantly as he can muster. maybe in another state of mind, you'd register the satisfaction in his tone, but right now? all you can sense is his urgency, which can easily be explained away by selfless and sincere concern. just how he likes it.

“you’re right,” you sigh. “i guess i just don’t understand. things were going so well, and then he goes and does this to me. i don’t know what i did wrong,” you say while burying your face in your hands. he almost can’t control the way his lips want to curl up at this, but he’s become nothing if not a master of containing his true emotions. he’s kept them from your prying eyes for years, after all.

“aww, baby. it’s not you, it’s him. he’s just not the right guy for you,” he coos, but for some reason, you can’t help but be annoyed at his kindness. 

“i know you want to say i told you so, so say it,” you snap, pulling your face from your hands and scowling at him.

“i don’t want —” 

“if you wanted me to learn my lesson, i’ve learned it, alright? i don't need to be taught again,” you say with a huff. you know you’re being unreasonable. you know you’re being a bitch, but you just can’t help it. who told beomgyu to be right about your potential partners all the damn time? fuck his crazy-accurate intuition.

he looks genuinely hurt by your harsh words, though, so you can’t help but feel a wave of regret wash over you. you’re drowning in it, even, as you watch his puppy eyes gloss over.

“beomie, baby, i’m so sorry,” you say, gently grabbing his face with one hand and pushing his long hair behind his ear with the other. “i know i’m being awful to you when you’re just trying to help.”

“it’s okay,” he says solemnly, looking like a kicked puppy. “as long as you’re sorry.” somehow, his easy acceptance of your apology makes you feel even worse. you pull him in for a hug and he buries his face in your neck to a) soak up your scent and b) hide his growing smirk. but you’re too caught up in your feelings to notice.

“it’s really okay,” he assures once you part.

“no, it isn’t. i’m being a shitty friend. how about you stay over tonight? we can watch a movie and i’ll order something for us to eat,” you suggest. he graciously accepts your peace offering and the night is spent with giggles and an overt amount of cuddling.

as you’re drifting off to sleep, you feel beomgyu plant a kiss on your forehead. to anyone else, this might come across as oddly intimate, but you know better. people have said that you two would make a good couple, but you two do nothing but laugh it off every time. they just don’t understand your dynamic. he’s a man like any other, you guess, but seeing him as anything other than a friend is simply laughable. you know he feels the same exact way about you, too, which is why you are unfazed by his next words. 

“i love you. it’s just — i just love you so much, you know?” he whispers.

“aww, beomie. you know i love you, too. you’re my best friend in the whole world,” you murmur as sleep finally overcomes you.

if the lights were on, you’d see how his face falls and contorts into something like a grimace.

-

yeonjun has been spamming you like crazy, so you listen to beomgyu and block his number as well as his social media accounts. you think this whole chapter of your life is over, but, as always, you are wrong.

a week or so after your messy breakup, a sudden knock at your door pulls your attention away from mindless scrolling on your phone. you don't think much of it — it’s probably just beomgyu with some takeout, or something. however, when you look through the peephole, you realize that yeonjun is not finished bothering you just yet. 

“baby, please. i know you’re there. please, just open up. i’ll explain everything!” he pleads. you’re not particularly known for your callousness of heart, so it doesn’t take much more begging for you to feel guilty and let him in. you open your door with a sigh. 

“thank you!” yeonjun says with a look of pure relief as he hurriedly enters your apartment. he takes a seat on your couch (unprompted, you might add) and takes a shaky breath. you cautiously seat yourself on the other end of the couch and prepare to listen to whatever bullshit he has conjured up for your viewing pleasure before you decide that it’s best just to cut to the chase. ripping the band-aid off, and all that.

“look, i don’t care that you’re sorry. there’s nothing you can say to make me change my —” 

“it was beomgyu!” he exclaims before you can get another word out.

“... what?” you ask confusedly. where the hell is he going with this?

“the girl, the picture, fucking everything was all his fucking fault. he did it,” he rants. oh. he must think you’re fucking stupid.

“yeonjun, please don’t waste my time,” you sigh. “i think you should leave,” you add, getting up from your seat.

“wait!” he pleads, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you back down. “remember how i always told you that i had a weird feeling about him? like how something always felt… off?” oh well. if he wants to continue putting on a show, then so be it. besides, it’ll be a funny story to tell beomgyu later on.

you nod.

“well, he always looked at me weirdly. like, whenever i’d walk into the room, there was always this… this tension and i never knew why, but i understood it as soon as we made things official. it’s because he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment and yeonjun actually thinks he’s getting through to you before you burst into near-maniacal laughter. his face falls.

“beomgyu? beomgyu likes me?” you say between giggles. beomgyu loves you like a sister. no way in hell does he harbor a shred of romantic love for you. 

“you’re not listening,” he grunts, slightly tugging at his own hair in frustration. “he’s always been weird, and the other night at the bar, he introduced me to that girl you saw me ‘kissing’. they kept giving me drinks until i could barely fucking see straight. then she kept coming onto me, but i said no. i finally told her to kick rocks, but the next thing i knew was that she was kissing me. i know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me.” you want to dismiss everything he’s saying, but his utter sincerity seems to strike a chord within you. you can’t say you believe him, but he continues before you can properly digest his words.

“think about it. why the hell would i cheat in such a public place where all of our friends hang out? don't you think i would be smarter than that? and even if i wasn't, you know me. you know i would never cheat on you.” he seems desperate now, but it’s still hard to believe that beomgyu orchestrated this entire thing instead of the very real possibility that yeonjun just got drunk and acted recklessly.

“alright, this isn’t funny anymore. you need to stop,” you warn, not liking how much he’s making sense.

“think,” he repeats with conviction.

so you do. you think back to all of the tumultuous relationships you’ve had until now. they've all ended in different ways, yes, but they all had one common denominator: beomgyu. oh, beomgyu saw your boyfriend getting cozy with his ex. you’re having an argument with your boyfriend? beomgyu thinks he’s a piece of shit because of how he treats you, you obviously deserve better! wait, your boyfriend keeps taking too long to text you back? he’s just losing interest! it’s clearly better to break it off now rather than getting too invested when you’re inevitably going to break up, anyway. and all the other greatest hits. your face twists from focused to horrified as the realization sinks into your bones. it's beomgyu. it’s always been beomgyu. 

you look to yeonjun with pure shock in your eyes and he meets your gaze with a look of sympathy. you finally get it. 

“junie, i’m so sorry,” you say, tears springing into your eyes. “i’m so sorry i doubted you.” 

“it’s okay,” he replies with a melancholy smile. “he manipulated you.” 

“does… does that mean we’re back together now?” you ask, voice tinged with hope. his smile falters at your question, and you feel a sense of dread.

“i need some time,” he says after a pause, dropping his hand from yours. “you really hurt me. i understand that beomgyu manipulated you, but it really hurts that you didn't trust me, you know?” 

“i understand,” you quietly reply. you’d be hurt if the tables were turned — it’s only natural. you just hope to god above that you haven’t let beomgyu ruin another good thing for you.

-

beomgyu is confused as to why you’ve been ignoring him for the better part of a week. you don’t respond when he texts or calls, and his intuition is telling him that it has something to do with yeonjun. maybe you’re just shutting down because of the breakup? it was particularly brutal this time around, after all. he’s lucky that yeonjun has such a lascivious sexual history, or else you might not have bought his little charade, even with the proof presented directly in front of you. that’s how much you love(d) yeonjun. the thought causes jealousy to rear its ugly head in his stomach, but whatever. there’s no way you’re going back to him after the way the scandal has made its way through your social life. even if you do want to get back together with him, there's no way your pride will let you. your pride has been a particularly nasty sort of obstacle in beomgyu’s pursuit of you, but it’s absolutely delicious to be able to use it against you like this. serves you fucking right.

still, it’s his job as your dutiful best friend to cheer you up. with this in mind, he picks up your favorite takeout and heads to your place. he smiles when he imagines the way you’ll gratefully embrace him once you realize that he’s here for you. maybe this time you’ll understand that he’s always been the one who’s there for you when someone hurts you. maybe this time will be his big break, finally freeing him from the purgatory he has been in for god knows how long.

he knocks on your door with a hopeful smile on his face. surprisingly, you’re swinging the door open mere seconds later with your eyes similarly lit up with hope.

“yeon— oh. it’s you,” you say, deflating immediately. there’s a certain sense of resentment in your tone that he catches onto, but he chalks it up to disappointment. his face falls. goddamn it. damn it all to hell.

“i brought you some food to cheer you up,” he says while shaking the plastic takeout bag, completely ignoring the slip of another man’s name. 

he invites himself in, slipping off his shoes and sitting down on the couch as he usually does. 

he waits for you to join him, but when he looks up at you, all he sees is you staring at him, arms crossed and face contorted in anger. surely you can’t be that upset that he’s not yeonjun, right? now that he thinks about it, why would you be expecting yeonjun, anyway? hadn’t you effectively cut him off? did you talk to him and take him back after all that (you think) he’s done? that can’t be right. unless… unless you actually let him talk to you. oh god, please tell him that’s not what happened.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, face devoid of anything deeper than curiosity and worry. 

you’re silent for a moment before you carefully choose your next words.

“i talked to yeonjun,” you reply, and his heart sinks to his stomach. “he told me some… interesting things.”

beomgyu hopes you don’t notice how hard he gulps. you do not.

“what did he say?” he asks, face tense but still showing no clear signs of guilt. 

“he told me what happened that night. he told me how you got him drunk and basically forced that girl onto him. he also said that you’re the reason none of my relationships work out,” you declare, opting to stop beating around the bush and just get some answers. you study his face for a crack of some sort, but there is none.

“and what do you think?” he asks quietly.

“i think… i think he might be telling the truth,” is what you say, but you’re sounding increasingly unsure with every word because beomgyu looks more hurt than you’ve ever seen him.

“you believe him over me?” he asks, voice cracking and lips trembling with his brown eyes glossed over in what you can only describe as devastation. god, either beomgyu’s a really good actor, yeonjun’s a really good actor, or you’re just fucking stupid.

“i… i don’t know what to think, beomgyu,” you whisper after a pause. all he does is nod before his next words pierce your heart.

“is that why you’ve been ignoring me?”

jesus christ. you were so sure that yeonjun was telling the truth when he told you about beomgyu, so ignoring him only seemed natural under the circumstances, but he looks every bit like the victim in light of your accusations. his trembling lips and wounded gaze make you want to strangle yourself for ever doubting him. as you feel yourself being consumed with remorse, though, you remember the sincerity and desperation in yeonjun’s words. maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding? maybe they’re both convinced that they’re right? 

“y-yes. i’m sorry. i was just confused. maybe he just misunderstood?” you babble. he likes your hesitancy, but it’s still wearing on his patience. as much as he wants to say he can’t believe that you’d question him because of some guy you dated, he can believe it when it comes to you. you always, always, always hurt him like this, and he’s had just about enough.

“and what if it’s true?” he asks, pathetic facade wiped clean off of his face while something more somber replaces it entirely. your eyes lock with his and you’re stunned silly. 

“what?” is all you can manage to reply with. 

“what if i pushed that girl onto yeonjun? what if i ruined all of your relationships? what would you do?” 

“so it’s true?!” is all you can say, guilt flaring into sheer rage and hurt. 

“so what if it is?” he asks, as if he doesn’t comprehend how twisted this is.

“so… so how could you do that to me?!” 

“i was only doing what’s best for you,” he impatiently replies. “they were only gonna hurt you, can’t you see that? even before i did anything, there were still all those men who cheated on you, lied to you, used you. what’s wrong with wanting to protect you from people like them? i just couldn’t stand to see you living like that!” he argues, clearly believing he’s completely justified in all of this.

sure, you’ve been hurt before even without his intervention, but that doesn’t mean he can just play puppeteer in your love life to “protect” you from anything similar happening ever again. you trusted him and he manipulated you. he acted like a knight in shining armor this entire time while knowingly sabotaging any potentially good thing that could come your way. and he did it all because he wants to protect you? bullshit. 

“you know, i thought that even if everyone other man in the world could hurt me, you never would,” you say shakily, either from sadness or anger. maybe both. “i guess i was wrong.”

“hurt you?! hurt is watching the person you love fuck other people over and over and over again! hurt is watching you laugh me off and never even fucking considering me as an option, goddamn it!” he yells while slamming his hand on your coffee table. 

“so your solution was to fuck up every relationship i have just to have me to yourself?! do you not realize how fucked up that is?!” you yell back, trying to appear unfazed by his increasingly enraged behavior. he seems to falter at this, genuinely at a loss for words at your unforgiving pinpointing of his erratic actions. the desperate, eager-to-please beomgyu you know all too well is finally back and you feel your confidence surge because of it.

“i only did that because —”

“why? because you love me? or think you do?” you mock with a hollow laugh. “you don’t purposely ruin the life of someone you love.” he looks genuinely wounded by your words. 

“but i —”

“i don’t care. get out,” you say mercilessly. you’re absolutely through with listening to his fucked up ideations about love and what his twisted moral compass deems as justified because of it. you’re so preoccupied with preaching on your soapbox, you don’t even realize his attitude has once again shifted from the compliant beomgyu to the one you don’t recognize at all. 

“... no,” he says flatly. 

“did you not fucking hear me? i said get out,” you repeat through clenched teeth. normally, your raised hackles would be enough to scare him off, so you figure he’ll tuck his tail and leave right about now. oh, how wrong you are.

“are you deaf?” he asks with a sneer. “i said no.”

“what do you mean, no?” you ask. somewhere in the depths of your mind, alarm bells begin ringing, but it’s far too late to heed them. plus, you’re still under the impression that he’ll bend to your will. 

“oh, so you’re not deaf. just stupid,” he snorts. your jaw is agape at his audacity. beomgyu has caught an attitude and gotten fresh with you before, sure, but nothing like this. to say you’re dumbstruck would be to put things in the mildest of terms. you can barely get out your next sentence.

“w-what do you mean?” 

“i’m not leaving this apartment,” he says firmly, and before you can even ask him to explain, he’s dragging you away with a painful grip.

“ow! beomgyu, you’re hurting m—” 

“shut up. i told you what real hurt is, but you're not fucking listening. i don't want to hear another word come out of your mouth,” he says in a monotone voice. if the alarm bells were ringing in the depths of your mind before, they’re absolutely blaring at the forefront of your brain right now. 

“what are y-you —”

“i thought i told you to shut up,” he snaps before roughly grabbing your face and planting his lips on yours. the kiss is crude. it’s absolutely vulgar with the way it’s all tongue and teeth and saliva, but after a few seconds of uncertainty, you find yourself melting into it. this is wrong. you two are the best of friends, almost like brother and sister. and more than that, you love yeonjun, right? you’re supposed to be working on getting back together with him, aren’t you? but your reason starts to be sucked away as you feel his hands caress your body, leaving nothing but fire in their wake.

you don’t know how you got here, almost completely naked as you lay on your back while beomgyu continues attacking your lips. it’s blazing hot and you can’t help but feel your underwear becoming wet with every moan that escapes his mouth and consequently reverberates onto your tongue. as if he already knows the intricacies of your internal battle, one of his hands finds its way to your now soaking wet pussy and he uses his index and middle fingers to spread the slickness around. he swirls his fingers around your hole and just barely pushes one of them into the entrance. you gasp at the shallow intrusion and you can feel his notorious shit-eating grin pressed across your lips as he feels how tight you are. you’re ridiculously turned on and he knows it. he pauses his actions only to unzip his pants and yank them down to his knees. your eyes widen at what you can only describe as his huge appendage, all reddened and already leaking. you feel your cunt throbbing with even more need at the sight, but your last shred of reason still makes you hesitate.

“beomgyu, we can't… we're friends, and yeonjun is —”

“can’t you just let me make you feel good? god, you’re making this so difficult, but what the fuck else is new,” he growls. 

he's right. you are making things difficult. there's no way of salvaging your friendship after this, so what's the point in holding back now? you realize that while he may be absolutely unhinged, his feelings for you are real. do you reciprocate them? you don’t know yet, but the thought of him doting on another person the same way he dotes on you makes you feel uneasy. as for yeonjun? well, he deserves better than the cesspool of turbulent emotions that you currently find yourself in. 

“you still sure you don’t want me?” he asks cockily. you, with all of your pride, can only muster up a feeble shake of your head. he knew the answer before you gave it to him, but his condescending gaze shows you that your words have scratched a certain itch of his.

he rubs his hardened length against your folds and it’s all you can do to resist locking your ankles around his waist and pulling him into you, but something stops you. protection. you don’t even have to say it, because he knows you too well for your own good.

“let me fuck you raw,” he says breathily, just barely poking his length into your tight hole. “i know you need it, baby. just let me take care of you.” you’re silent for a moment before pinching out your next words.

“p-pull out?” he won’t because he knows you’ll be begging him for his cum when he’s done with you, and you already know he won’t, even when he nods and promises he will. you don't know why you even asked. 

the ache you feel to have him buried inside you is quickly replaced by the ache you feel once he begins to stretch you out. it’s a stinging, burning sort of pain, but that’s nothing in comparison to the pure pleasure you feel as his flared tip drags along your walls. he begins with thrusting shallowly, fucking you open like you’re a virgin, and you’re so tight while he’s so big, you might as well be. 

painfully slowly, he pushes each and every inch of himself into your gummy hole. he reaches places you didn’t even know existed and stretches you open so good all you have the brainpower to call the sensation is fullness. overwhelming fullness. when he finally sheathes himself in you completely, a strangled cry leaves both of your throats as you feel him throbbing inside of you and he, in turn, feels you pulsating around him. 

after you adjust, you expect him to start drilling into you with reckless abandon, but he does nothing of the sort. just watches you with a strange look on his face. 

“b-beomie? what are you doing?” you ask pathetically, head raising up from its place on the pillows to meet his wanton gaze.

“beg me for it.”

“beg for w—” your question is interrupted by a sharp smack on your sensitive pussy. 

“beg me for it. beg me to fuck you like a whore. i won’t tell you again,” he says menacingly. your bleary eyes are so confused, so stupid, and so, so cute, but he’s determined to use the last of his self-control to get you to feel even a fraction of the desperation he’s felt for years. well, even if you don’t, he’ll spend the whole night fucking you dumb until you do. but you’re so hungry for his dick, you don’t even realize that he’s bluffing.

finally, you understand what he’s asking of you, and you waste no time to comply. 

“n-need your cock, beomie. need you to make me f-feel good,” you say, trying to retain even a semblance of your dignity. this brings a mean smirk to his face, but he’s not done with you, yet.

“surely you can do better than that?” he taunts, rocking his hips ever so slightly so you can feel every inch of his length and girth teasingly hitting your cervix, but providing no relief. fuck your dignity. you need him.

“please! please, i need you! need your cock to fill me up!” you whine.

“mhmm, and?”

“need you to fuck me! need you to fill me up with your cum!” well, there goes your resolve to have him pull out. this seems to satisfy his sadistic desires.

“oh, my love. all you had to do was ask,” he says with a grin. and that’s when he starts. 

his hips meet yours in the most punishing way, and that’s what this is: a punishment for the way you’ve treated him all these years. you can feel it in the way that his fingernails dig into your skin and in the way that he mercilessly presses down on your tummy until all you can feel is pressure building up to something unknown.

“who else can fuck you like this? who else can split you open like this?” he asks as lewd squelches reverberate throughout the room. 

“n-nobody! only you, beomie!” you cry.

“that’s my good girl, such a good girl. baby just needs me to use her like a fucktoy, right?” and all you can do is whine and clench in carnal need as the poor springs of your bed squeak with every unforgiving thrust.

“oh, you like that, don’t you?” he snickers. “you like being my little whore. you’re just a toy for me, alright? free to use whenever i feel like it.” you nod in agreement and he lets out a chuckle as he pounds into you at an unimaginable speed, balls slapping your ass with every fiery thrust. each time he pumps into you, your pussy’s clamping down on him and sucking him in like that’s where he’s meant to be. and maybe it is. 

“god, i’m close,” he groans after pumping into you for what feels like hours, and you whimper like a bitch in heat. “honey, don’t worry,” he tuts. “i’ll fuck you every day, i’ll fill you with my cum so you can’t leave. not that you’ll want to after this. you’re made for me, made to be my cumdump whenever i want.” 

“y-yes!” you shriek, somehow liking the idea of being full of his cum forever and ever. 

“that’s my girl. baby just wants me to fuck her good. that’s all you needed, right? that’s why you’ve been such a brat. you just needed me to show you what it’s like to be fucked right,” he says, rolling your clit for good measure, which is enough to make you reach your high as it comes crashing down around you. beomgyu wasn’t lying when he said he was close, so when he feels you clenching around his big cock as if you’re milking him for all that he’s worth, you feel it twitching before hot bursts of cum paint your inner walls until you’re leaking white and seeing stars. he continues with slow, lazy pumps until he softens. you stay like that for an indeterminable amount of time, breathing raggedly while your bodies are overcome with thrums of delight. 

when he finally pulls out and lays down beside you, bodies slick with sheens of sweat, he pushes your hair back behind your ear and plants a kiss on your temple. shakily, he takes his hand and rubs it along your distended tummy, full of his cum. he lovingly strokes it with an awed smile on his face.

“such a good girl for me,” he repeats. “i can’t wait until you’re pregnant. you’ll have as many babies as i can give you, right?” and all you can do is nod deliriously. he smiles in satisfaction as you eagerly agree to his every nasty, perverted thought. “god, i love you so much. and you love me too, right? say it. say you love me.”

“i love you.” and you realize that you do.  this man is deranged, but he’s yours, and for better or for worse, you're his. especially now that you might very well be carrying his children. and even if you aren’t, you know he’ll make good on his promises to keep fucking you until you are. should you be glad that he effectively ruined every potential relationship for you? you were unsure before, but you realize that nobody has or ever will love you as much as he does, even if he has a demented way of showing it. well, it is what it is. there’s no way out after this.

notes pt. 2: i hope this goes over better after the editing!

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[makeyoumine69]

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [CHAPTER 1].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere. 

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[linkspooky]

It's not just the fact that Hori decided to kill a lifelong victim of grooming.

My two favorite comic book storylines are New Teen Titans Judas Contract, and Uncanny X Men's Inferno. They both feature villains / victims (Madelyne Pryor and Terra) that die at the end of the story. Terra is specifically fifteen years old and a victim of sexual grooming.

However, both of these stories are clearly written as tragedies. It's clear from the start that these are tragic stories not only meant to get us to sympathize with the victim turned villain but also the failure to save a clear victim is meant to make the heroes look bad.

Let me just list off all the shit Scott Summers put Madelyne Pryor through.

Fell in love with her only because she looked like his ex girlfriend Jean. Even though Madelyne specifically stated before getting into the relationship she didn't want to be jeans replacement.

Married her, and refuses to take time off to the point where he misses the birth of his own son leaving Madelyne at home to deliver her baby on the floor.

When he finally retires and they move to Alaska together he gets a phone call that Jean is still alive and abandons his wife and daughter for weeks to go back to his high school girlfriend.

Madelyne is attacked by a group of supervillains while Scott is away and just barely manages to escape but loses her baby.

She joins up with the x men to look for scott only to find out in the time she's been gone Scott had already gotten back together with Jean.

She is tricked into making a deal with a demon who wants to overthrow ilyanas control of limbo (she thought it was just a dream and the contract to sell her soul didn't matter).

She used her newfound power in order to find her child Nathan only to find Mr sinister there who reveals that Madelyne was a clone of Jean Grey, her entire life was a lie, she was made to breed with cyclops and produce a baby for sinister.

At which point madelyne snaps and decides to burn everything to the ground and kill her own child.

It's clearly telegraphed as a tragedy. The reference to Medea is pretty obvious. Madelyne had no chance from the beginning, however even in this tragedy Scott specifically forbid any of the heroes from using lethal force on her. Jean and Maddie mindmeld at one point and Jean literally begs for Maddie not to die and that she should live on to raise her son. They even throw a funeral for Maddie afterwards because be no one else would ever mourn her.

Not only do the heroes look bad, especially Scott for not being able to save her, they do at least try to talk with her, use non lethal force, and beg her at one point to let them help her.

On the other hand not only did Deku never engage Shigaraki Tomura once, just the vision of a crying child in front of him. Deku doesn't look like a failure for failing in his goal to save him he's still the greatest hero, they don't hold a funeral for Shigaraki, Dekus last words are about how he doesn't forgive Shigaraki (and therefore he deserves to die i guess because deku is the punisher now). Deku doesn't even give Shigaraki the respect of calling him by his preferred name he just calls him Tenko who was the only person Deku cared about saving.

It's not just about a victim dying it's about how the story promised us over and over again the kids were going to save the villains in the final act, that this was going to be an optimistic story about the new generation being better than the old.

Only for Horikoshi to deliver something entirely different. If I'm watching punisher I know what I'm getting into. I'm here to watch Frank Castle shoot mobsters. If Batman picks up a Tommy Gun and starts shooting mobsters that's bad because Batman wouldn't do that shit.

There's writing a story that's tonally inconsistent, or changing your plans for how a character is going to end late in the game and then there's this.

Which is basically narrative gaslighting. Where one thing is clearly happening onscreen but the narrative needs you to believe those gaslights clearly are not dimming.

I know Deku made no effort to save Shigaraki when he explicitly said they OFA is a power for saving but not killing, but don't worry Deku became the greatest hero anyway, and this is still a happy optimistic ending!

Horikoshi isn't looking for treasure in the house. Those gaslights aren't dimming. You're clearly being hysterical, woman.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 || dark!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || he told you he'd never let you go, but it hadn't sounded like a threat at the time— it sounded like pillow talk, like sweet nothings. you should've believed him; you should've known escape wasn't an option from a man like joel miller.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || a bit over 3k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || smut (18+ only; noncon/heavy dubcon, bondage, forced breeding), stalking/yandere, possessiveness, past/described character death, "bunny" as a pet name (with a couple "baby"s and "babygirl"s in there), angst, gaslighting/manipulation

“How’d you find me here?”

His face was straight and stoic.  Last time, he’d smirked when you asked that— like he was proud of himself.  Now, he was just tired.  Tired of chasing you, tired of your constant yet fruitless search for freedom. 

Tired, and angry.

“I’m persistent,” was his flat reply.

“Well, doesn’t matter,” you shook your head, “doesn’t change anything— same as before, it’s over.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” you shot back instantly, “and I’m not explaining this shit you again.  You don’t fucking own me.”

“So all those things you said— that we said?” Joel hissed, stepping forward, making you feel cornered in your own tiny room.  It wasn’t much, but it was your own, and you loved it for that.  You’d spent the last month making it feel like home, and now you’d have to leave it all again, have to run from him again.  “What was that, then? All just bullshit?”

“I— that was a different time, I was a different person,” you sighed.  “So were you.”

“Said you loved me,” he recalled.

“I didn’t even know you,” you snapped.  “You aren’t who I thought you were…”

He stepped up to you again, and you reached for your belt— but he grabbed your wrist before you could grab the knife.  “Whatcha gonna do with that, bunny?” he cooed, sickly-sweet.

“Don’t call me that,” you whimpered, trying to wriggle out of his grasp but only hurting your wrist more.  “You can’t call me that anymore…”

“Gonna hurt me, bunny?” he continued, pulling you closer until you had to bite down on your shaking lip— you didn’t want him to see you cry, again.  Because even after everything, when you cried, you still wanted him most— you still craved his comfort, even knowing that it was all lies.  He was sick and twisted, you knew that, but he looked just like the man you fell in love with— he smelled like him, he had his warmth and strength, and your body sometimes longed to wrapped up in his arms again even if your heart ached remembering what he’d done.  “Y’already hurt me as bad as you ever could.  And I still love you.”

You shook your head, tears starting to roll, as he pressed his face against your head and took in a deep breath beside your hair.  “You never l-loved me,” you hiccuped, “you don’t— you don’t do what you did to people you love—”

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he defended, “just made sure nobody would try to keep us apart, s’all.  M’sorry for what happened to your brother, too, but you know I only did what I had to.”

“Shut up,” you pleaded, trying to pull away again.

“You know he stepped up on me,” he continued anyways, “you know he said I couldn’t be trusted, that I wasn’t good enough for you— and I couldn’t just let him say that shit.”

“Stop, stop talking,” you begged, shutting your eyes tight and trying so hard not to see it again— your brother on the ground, his face red and bruises already forming on his neck, Joel standing over him catching his breath.  “Y-you just did it b-because he was all I had left,” you said, mostly reminding yourself.  “That was the only reason my brother died.  Because you needed to be the only thing I loved.”

“He was a piece of shit!” Joel barked, making you cry harder.  “He was nothing, okay?  I’m your everything—”

“No, no—”

“You said that!  And he was gonna try to take you away from me!”

“Because I told him I was scared of you,” you explained.

“So it’s your fault— you killed him,” Joel insisted as you tried to cover your face with your spare hand.  “Shouldn’t’ve told him that, bunny… shouldn’t’ve let him try to steal you, you know I couldn’t let you go— you know I can’t let go of what’s mine…”

He always got in your head so quickly; he'd carefully built his control over your mind in the year you'd been together, and it took a while to break out of it once you'd left.  But even still, you'd never stopped looking over your shoulder— every time he tracked you down, you made another escape and started all over.  But it didn't usually last too long.

“That’s why I’m just gonna keep finding you, bunny.  ‘Cause you’re mine.  So will you just stop runnin’ from me?”

You tried to take a deep breath, fighting to get enough air in your lungs to speak, but it all still came out as a shaky whisper: “I’m not… I’m not yours anymore,” you informed him weakly.

“Let me tell you somethin’,” he said— calm at first, but suddenly getting angrier as he sneered and yanked you closer.  “Somethin’ you’re gonna be better off the sooner you accept it: you’ll always be mine.”

You whimpered as he spun you around, embracing you— or was he constricting you? — as your back pressed against his broad chest.

"Need me to remind you?" he purred in your ear, and you struggled harder against his grip.

"No, Joel— don't—" you pleaded.

"Need to remember who you belong to?" he pressed again, reaching down to start unbuttoning your jeans.  "M'gonna help you, bunny, it's okay— you're not gonna forget again."

"Please," you whined, shivering when he started to tug your pants down— it was cold in here, and even his warm fingers weren't enough when the draft hit your bare thighs.  "Joel, don't have to do this— let's just talk, we can talk—"

"Too late for that," he shook his head, groaning as he cupped your sex in his rough hand.  "Tried to talk to you already, when we talk you start fuckin' lyin' to me— callin' me a monster just 'cause I love you.  Sayin' you don't love me anymore… but your body doesn't lie, baby, feel that?"

He'd pushed your panties down and was sliding his fingers between your lips, purring as he roughly explored the slick folds of skin.  Your stomach sank and your chest felt hollow— even with everything he'd done, you never thought he'd do this to you…

"Oh, fuckin' wet," he noticed with a sickening grin that you could hear in his voice.  You turned your face away but he grabbed it with his free hand and turned you back to look at him.  "Kiss me," he ordered.

Slamming his lips on yours, you whined and tried to pull away.  He kept kissing you anyways, lips and tongue overwhelming yours, indifferent to your resistance.

"Don't be like that, bunny," he pouted when you managed to wrench your head back— he started kissing your jaw and neck next, rubbing circles on your clit with two fingers.  "You just need to remember how good it is to be mine— just relax, baby, just let me help you—"

But when you tried to kick at his legs, a desperate attempt for a chance to flee, he got angry again and threw you face-down onto your bed.

"Please, don't," you sobbed, but he was already behind you, grabbing your wrists and holding them down over your head.

You cried harder when he let go with one hand, and you heard the slide of leather on denim as he took his belt off.

Crying harder, you felt him lean over you and wrap the belt around your wrists, tying them together tightly.  You were begging incoherently, too scared to try to fight against the leather on your wrists but hating how it felt to be restrained (especially in such a crude way).

A moment later, he tugged you down so that you were bent over the side of the bed while he stood behind you, and he started to open his own jeans.

A shudder crawled over you when you felt his cock rub up against your ass, a low groan coming from behind you as he ran his hand over your back— maybe just to touch you, maybe to hold you down.

"Joel, I'm sorry," you whispered, "I'm sorry, I won't leave again, I swear…"

He hummed happily, but didn't stop.

"Just please stop," you requested weakly.  "I'll be yours again, but you— you're hurting me…"

"Only 'cause you made me," he accused with a growl.  "If this is what you need to know whose you are, then I'm gonna hurt you."

"No— you don't need to do that, I-I know now, I swear…"

You heard him spit, then the wet sounds of him spreading the fluid on his cock, and you buried your face in the sheets.  "It's gonna be okay, bunny," he promised, just before he shoved himself inside you.

He used to be so tender, so delicate with you.  For all his mood swings and violent tendencies, he'd always made love to you so sweetly.  You couldn't believe that was the same man as the one holding you down now, forcing his cock deeper and grunting loudly as you whined in pain. 

"You can take it," he informed you coldly, already moving far too fast and slamming to the deepest parts of you each time.  "Same dick you used to beg for all the time, don't act so fuckin' hurt when I know you like this."

His hands moved to your shoulders, holding them tightly as he found his pace; you heard every moan, every heavy breath, even though you wanted so much to try to ignore it all.  The most difficult thing to ignore, of course, was how it felt: the sting of being stretched around him, the soreness where he dug his fingers into your skin, the sick pleasure you hated yourself for noticing.

"God, I missed this," he groaned.  "Missed having this little pussy around me— I'm gonna make you feel so good, bunny, gonna take care of you like I promised."

He laid himself down over you, pressing you down deeper into the mattress, and spoke right by your ear.

"Used to say nobody else ever made you feel like I did," he purred.  "You remember that?  Was that even true, or were you a liar then, too?"

"N-no, I never lied to you, Joel," you tried to defend yourself— but then he moved his hips just right and forced you to take even more of him than you thought possible, and your voice fell into a whine.

"What about when you said we'd always be together, huh?" he prompted with disdain in his voice.  "I told you I needed you, bunny.  M'fuckin' nothin' without you, you know that— and then you left me.  How could you break my heart like that, babygirl?"

"I'm sorry," you cried, "I-I was just scared… you… you killed my brother, Joel.  I hate you for that."

"I know," he soothed, "I know— but I can't lose you.  I'm sorry, bunny, I can't let you go."

Unfortunately, that you knew; and in a way, you understood.  You just wished this wasn't your fate, that you might have a chance to be free— that just wasn't in the cards for the girl Joel Miller loved.  He'd let a lot of things slip away from him in this life and you were not going to be next on that list.

After a while, it started to feel familiar; it reminded you of how it used to be, when things felt so simple and you had no idea what was around the corner.  Your body relaxed under his, your legs stopped flailing and your grip on the sheets loosened… you went limp, the struggle leaving you as another instinct took over.

Slipping his arms under you, he held you tightly, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.  The sickest part was how easy it was to let his praises wash over you.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered to you, “that’s my good bunny— just like that, lemme take care a’you…”

All your energy was focused on not letting him hear how it affected you, how easily he could reclaim your body.  You’d been running for months— almost two since you’d seen him last, when he tracked you down to Michigan and you only got away cause you had a friend with a car— and he had you back under his thumb in minutes.  Maybe he was right: you’d always be his, no matter what anyone did.  Even your own brother couldn’t save you.

“I betcha missed me, too,” Joel mumbled in your ear.  “Betcha got lonely, huh, bunny?  I’m here now, never letting you go again, I swear— can’t live without you… we need each other.  You need me.”

It was so strange to you, how he could sound so sweet and then so livid in just a moment.

“Just admit it, baby,” he encouraged— but it was an order, you weren’t too far gone to know that.

“I need you,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Louder,” he demanded.

“I ne—” you choked, having to stop and start over because your voice was broken from crying.  “I need you, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and his thrusts picked up in speed.  You could hear the sound of skin slapping on skin— of your wet channel betraying the way you actually did need him.  “Yeah, fuck,” he repeated, “s’my girl… always ready for me, huh?  Such a needy fuckin’ pussy y’got…”

He was moving harder and faster than ever, but his thrusts were more shallow than before— he usually started by savoring you, pulling out to the very tip and sliding back in so he could feel you on every inch of his cock.  But then he got into this sort of mood, where he could barely bring himself to pull out at all— said it felt too good inside you to leave— and so it was more like grinding, staying deep in you and letting just the base of him thrust in and out.  It was so deep it made your head spin, but you couldn’t do anything but lay there.  Lay there and realize that it was too late to stop him, or to stop yourself from what was about to happen.

You hoped if you didn't make a sound, he wouldn't notice.  You used to always tell him when you were coming, because he told you to: coming, Joel, you're gonna make me come— please don't stop—

But he noticed, even without all that fanfare.  Even if only a suppressed whine echoed in your throat, he felt the way your body reacted when he brought you to the peak.

"Mm," he hummed proudly, "y'see?  See how your body remembers?  Fuck, love feelin' it when ya come, babydoll.  Love feeling that li'l cunt squeeze me."

After you’d come, though, you became far too sensitive— everything was just too much, all at once, and your whole body began to shake.  He didn’t slow down, he wasn’t fazed at all, but you were so overcome you could barely choke out your plea for mercy: “J-Joel, please… s’too much, I jus’... I need a second—”

“Shh,” he interrupted.  “Still teachin’ you your lesson, bunny.”

“No, fuck,” you gasped, “Joel, I… I can’t…”

“Can’t take it?” he finished for you.  “Can’t take any more of this?  This is what you wanted, though.  Isn’t that why you made me come all this way?  Made me chase you all over the fuckin’ country just so I could get my girl back?

"I won't leave Joel, just stop—"

"I know," he groaned.  "I know you won't leave me again, especially when you're pregnant."

"What?  Joel, no—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed, gripping your hips tighter.

"Joel, don't—"

Your begs were accompanied by your shaking hands trying to somehow wiggle their way out of the belt, but both were useless.  He was so much stronger, his weight kept you pinned so easily that you felt like you couldn't breathe; his hips drove into yours over and over, every movement like another punch to the gut and a stab to the heart.  “Just take it, baby,” he demanded, though the tone of his voice was sweet— rough, but sweet.  “Just trust me.”

I don’t trust you, you wanted to scream, I can’t trust you.  But it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway, if you could even pull yourself together enough to speak.

"We're gonna be together, like you said," he promised, his voice a deep growl as he fought his way to the peak of pleasure, slamming into you ruthlessly.  "Me an' you, and our baby.  Gonna make you so happy, bunny, gonna take care of you— and we're gonna be a family—"

"Please,” you breathed, “let's just— just talk about this first…"

"And you'll be mine forever, y'hear me?  You're never gonna try to fuckin' leave again."

You shook your head, exhausted and overwhelmed and giving in completely to the fact that he did own you, even after you insisted that he didn't.

"Say it."

"I won't try to leave you again," you promised, the words like poison in your throat but music to his ears.  "I love you, Joel… you know I love you…"

"I love you too, bunny," he returned, holding onto you tighter.  "So much— more than you can imagine."

You were numb, barely in reality, as he filled you; you could feel his cock flexing inside you and you hated the way it made your walls pulse— it showed how your body craved what your mind feared.  

“Baby…” he groaned, that heavy satisfaction in his voice as he sunk down on top of you.  You’d been waiting for him to pull out, disgusted that he was still inside you and hoping that you could sneak off to the bathroom to try to clean yourself out; but, he stayed inside, and relaxed even further as he stayed laying on top of you.

Staring off into space, you tried to shut your eyes but it burned.  So you just blinked through the pain and wished against everything that this was some horrible dream.

If it was, it felt more real than anything ever had.  He kissed your face gently, wiping the last of your tears away with his thumb.  "Shh, it's okay, little bunny… everything's gonna be okay now," he soothed in a whisper.  “You won’t have to be alone anymore.  It’s gonna be how it’s supposed to— how we said it would: you and me, forever.  Okay?”

It wasn’t a dream, but the way you spoke and moved without even thinking first sort of felt like one; “Okay,” you mumbled weakly as you nodded.

He smiled proudly down at you.  “Now let’s get you home, bunny.”

[theoldsports]

Matrimony

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words

SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.

THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.

The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.

Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.

She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?

[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.

If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.

[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.

He looked at me.

The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.

Darling,

Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.

And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.

C.B.S.

He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.

[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.

Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.

The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.

[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.

Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.

She sighed. For better or worse.

[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.

She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.

Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.

She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.

Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.

“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”

“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.

“It’s… yeah, but—“

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“

“I don’t wanna ruin today—“

“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.

“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.

“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.

“What?”

Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”

“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”

“So?”

“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”

[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”

Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”

“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.

—

[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.

After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.

[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.

Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.

Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.

[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.

I’ve got you.

When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.

I’ve got you.

Everything had to be lovely.

The wedding had to be lovely.

“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.

[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.

The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.

Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.

He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.

[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?

Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.

I’ve got you.

What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.

Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.

“I didn’t.”

“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.

“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”

“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.

The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.

The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.

What happened to I’ve got you.

“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.

“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”

[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.

“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.

He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.

Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.

Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.

“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.

Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.

Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.

I’ve got you.

“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.

“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.

“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”

Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.

—

Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.

[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?

[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.

“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.

“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.

“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”

“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.

“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?

[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.

“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”

[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”

“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?

“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”

“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Odd topic choice.”

“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”

“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.

“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“

“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.

If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.

[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.

“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.

Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.

“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.

“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.

“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”

Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.

[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”

Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”

There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.

“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.

Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.

[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.

Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.

“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.

“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.

Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.

[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.

“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”

“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.

Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”

She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.

“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”

[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.

“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.

“It’s adequate?”

“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”

“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”

“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”

Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.

Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.

The sex, however, was anything but transactional.

By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.

Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.

[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.

Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.

She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.

Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.

This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.

“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.

“I love you too.”

It was almost the truth.

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely @wotcherpeak @24kmar @kaealowri @weeeoosworld @dilucpegg3r @bai-wuxiangs-mask @kisstheskin

as always, apologies for the tags that did not work. love you all.

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: since your last encounter, jason has been living rent free in your head. you didn't want to, you needed more, and more found you in an unexpected way.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 7,6k warnings: yn's dirty thoughts, sex, p in v, language, breast play,

a/n: i got lazy and gave up proof reading (again). i also got too excited and ended up writing a lot more than planned, but hey, i got to watch 'the devil wears prada' to write this, so it's a win!! Hope you enjoy it and see you in chapter four.♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

“And the Blades are offside! Still no score here in Seattle, as the Gotham Blades and the Kraken face off in…” announced the caster excitedly, the game going on without Yn paying a dime of attention.

Sunday blues had gotten to you. Following an unusually chilly summer night, rain came pouring down just as you’d arrived home, covering the entire city in a dome of dullness and melancholy. Laying on your stomach, the living room darkened by the closed blinds, and the game on tv a long forgotten past time, the images of the previous night still loomed in your head.

‘Why did you do it, Yn?’, was the question clouding your mind the entire day. ‘Why did you do it?’ 

Why did you allow yourself to go to bed with the guy you despised? Why did you have those feelings in the first place? It was confusing. Everything about Jason was confusing. You never liked each other, and yet he’s all sweet and nice to you all of a sudden. He’s taking you to the hospital. He’s making sure you’re not alone. He takes you home, makes you food in the middle of the night. All after being an asshole for the past two months.

Why did he change?  When did he change? Was he always like that but you never paid attention to, or was it just a play, a trick he’s trying to pull in your mind? Is he trying to confuse you purposely, trying to play with your mind? He wouldn’t, would he?

It if wasn’t for the knocking on your door, you’d continue to torture yourself for the next few hours. Thoughts of Jason and his fucked up game flooding your mind. You heard the knocking again, groaning loudly, not wanting to leave the warmth of the sofa. But the sweet voice calling your name made you do it.

“Thank god, you’re alive!” Nessie sang, throwing her hands up in the air. Her words did not match her expression, however, painted in the most perfect mix of anger, worry and bad hangover. “Where were you?!” she asked, and you too repeated that same question at her.

“I looked for you all over the party!” you answered exasperated.

“Me too!” she informed. “I looked for you all over and Sammy said he saw you leaving with a guy behind you and that you were pissed drunk. I was fucking worried!”

“Sammy means bullshit,” you angrily replied, storming back to the sofa as you let your neighbor and friend close the door behind her, knowing full well this conversation would last long. You threw yourself on your previous seat, pulling your blanket over your legs and crossing your arms on your chest like a little child. 

“So, you didn’t leave with a guy?” she questioned, one eyebrow raised at you and a concerned expression adorning her face. “I swear to God, Yn, and I’m not even religious. If anyone did anything to you, I swear I’ll…”

“We didn’t do anything!” you basically screamed, feeling as if the room conspired against you. You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall out. You’d hoped you would be able to hide it. Leaving it a secret from the world could mean it was never real to begin with.

“So, there was someone?” she kept her eyes on you, sensing there was something more to it. Watching your usual polished self start to crumble into a nervous mess. You wanted to deny, gaslight your way out of this. But Nessie was smart, and she knew you. She could read all your signs and tell instantly none of your words spoke the truth.

There was nothing you could do. You were now on a crossroad where any direction, any ideas, wouldn’t take you anywhere. You had to spill it. “I couldn’t find you and Jason had helped me look…”

“Jason the hot guy you were pining after?” she cut you off, her face suddenly changing from concern to slightly but mild excitement.

“I was not pining after anybody!” you argued, trying once more to clear her mind out of these stupid ideas. “He was helping me look for you, and since you weren’t anywhere to be found he took me to his apartment because he was worried about leaving me alone, okay? He was nice and sweet, but nothing else happened. Nothing!”

Nessie sat silently beside you on the sofa, staring at you blankly while she absorbed all the information you ‘d thrown at her. Under your breath, you prayed she’d stop there, that she’d be satisfied with your answer. Unfortunately, God didn’t hear your prayers. “Nothing?” she whispered, a knowing smirk appearing in her face.

You had to let out a scream, muffling it with a pillow as you did not want anyone else trying to snoop in this mess of a situation. “Nothing,” you tried to argue once again, but her beaming smile and amused expression broke you all over, forcing your eyes to roll out in annoyance. “I basically threw myself on him.”

“Oh my god!” that bitch dared to be amused.

“I couldn’t keep my hand off of him, and we… w-we…” you trailed off, not wanting to finish your sentence, but your friend finished it for you. You fucked.

“Were you drunk?” she asked, a tinge of concern returning to her tone.

“I wish,”

“Was it that bad?” she wondered. “You’re acting like this is the end of the world, but you just had sex with the hot guy you were pining all over. What’s the big deal?”

“I was not pining over him!” you screamed again, and exasperatedly continued. “And what’s the big deal? He’s a biker gym rat who’s probably got no jobs or hobbies outside going to the gym. He’s covered in tattoos and probably uses tons of drugs, and guys like that could never be proper partners and will always lead you to trouble.”

“Gosh, you were planning your wedding then?” she blankly responded.

“What the fuck? No!” you were getting progressively irritated. It sounded that, to her, this all didn’t pass as more than a simple joke, not seeing the serious issue within it. “He’s just not the kind of guy I’d like to see myself mixed with. My parents warned me a-about guys like this…”

“Oh! So, this is about your parents then?” Nessie concluded, missing the point once more.

“It’s not about them!” you shook your head. You tried to come up with something, to continue your statement, but your mouth opened and closed without anything coming out of it. Sighing deeply, you felt your energy levels start to drain. “This always happens.”

Thinking back at countless similar situations, you watched your friend’s eyes turn softer. An awaiting glint in her eyes for the story to continue. “Every time I get upset over them, when they make me mad, I just… Explode? I go out and do something stupid, something that I know would piss them off, because…”

“You want them to explode?” she cut you, more an assumption than a question. “You want them to be just as mad at you?”

Combing your fingers through your hair, you stop and wonder. You let her words sink in, a lightness over being finally understood and finally understanding yourself overcoming you. It often scares you how well she knew and understood you with just a couple years of knowing each other, but maybe that was just the three semesters of Psychology lessons speaking.

“I always end up doing something stupid that I shouldn’t have done,” your voice softened a reply.

“So, you’re saying your parents were right, then?” she inquired once more.

“That’s not it, Nessie, I-I…” you stammered. “Oh my god, please let’s move on from this subject.”

By this point, you’d already messed up your hair from how much you had nervously combed your fingers through it. There was a small lump forming on your throat, and your hands were clasped on your face, shielding your eyes from your surroundings.

“So…” Nessie started. “Was he good?” Your head snapped quickly in her direction, eyes wanting to scold her but smile failing to do the same. Failing to hold corners of your lips, you allowed the smile to spread and rolled your eyes at her apparent enjoyment. “Was he big?”

You let out a snort at the inappropriate question, but filled her in. Mouthing a ‘thick’ back at her, she let her mouth hang open, closing her eyes in deep dirty wonder. ‘How much?’ she mouthed in return, and you scanned the room for something that could resemble his majestic girth, deciding upon signaling by holding your ankles with both your hands. Perhaps an exaggeration, but you’d let her sleep with that “lie” in mind.

Her mouth formed an ‘oh’, shocked at your response, and you could swear that just thinking about it was making you a little bit wet. You proudly nodded at her, perhaps too proud of it now. Proud of the incredible achievement of taking it all in.  

“How big?” she bobbed one eyebrow up, challenging. You gave her a demonstration, placing your closed fists on top of each other. He wasn’t the biggest, but he compensated with girth. Gosh, stop thinking about him! “Lucky girl.”

“You wish,” you laughed.

“I definitely do now.”

It had been almost three weeks since you’d last seen him. Rearranging your entire schedule, you organized your new routine with the sole purpose of avoiding him at all costs. From the months you’d met him almost daily at the gym, you’d come to know what times he liked to train at: very early mornings, the start of the evening or just as the gym was about to close. Thus, making the process of building up a new schedule a lot easier.

Sure, it might’ve been a stretch to go this far to avoid him. And maybe your new routine was kind of terrible and actually sort of hindered your days. But those were measures you needed to take in order to keep yourself sane. You didn’t know what you’d do if you saw him again.

In fact, your days seemed to have gotten longer, as you spent more hours in traffic. However, the lack of Jason in your daily life seemed to have increased your happiness and tranquility. You didn’t have to worry about him being around you, ready to drop something on you at any moment. And living without his often sarcastic and teasing remarks was so less stressful. It felt like, for once, you could live your life without a shadow haunting your days.

Life at work was also simpler. Since your boss had decided that the American dating scene wasn’t for her, and instead started looking for a husband at different European social gatherings, she had been out quite often, spending her weekends away in Monaco, Paris or Milan, and missing many work days. 

That left you with more time to write. It has always been your favorite thing to do, writing away your thoughts on a paper, even if it never made it out of your notebook. 

Ideally, you wouldn’t be working as an assistant. But that was the best you could do after graduation, having to find a job quickly before your father dragged you out of Gotham definitely. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but it allowed you to keep in touch with the area you desired to work on. Even better, you got to watch the life of an editor in chief right in front of your eyes.

It was the middle of the week, the day passing by slowly as you walked left to right through different rooms and floors to get whatever your boss needed done before today’s shoot. With summer approaching its end, ideas for the upcoming fall issues were thrown around, and now Sandra, your boss, was dead set that she needed at least something done by the end of the week.

 Packing up your things and throwing them into your messenger bag, you hurriedly walked out from behind your desk right as Sandra was passing by. Following her footsteps, you two made your way out of the tall and imposing building of Wayne Publications.

“Did you get the samples I asked for yesterday?” she questioned, head glued forward, not moving to look at you.

“Yes, I do in fact,”  you replied, handing her the thin deep blue sketchbook. “I made a collage for each designer with the pictures, just as you’d asked. Gio Waters had given me some when I interviewed her, and Nadia and her sister emailed me their looks this morning.”

You explained the process as you two continued to walk, people moving away from the infamous Runway Magazine’s editor in chief. “The collection isn’t finished, but it’s really interesting, I think you’ll like it. Everything is in there. A-and… Arkham’s Neglect…”

“Arkham’s Neglect?” she wondered out loud, facing moving slightly to show you the corners of a raised eyebrow.

“They’re this 80’s punk, anarchist, counter culture, all of… that, inspired new brand. They think the name sets forward the message they want to spread,” you explained the unusual group you sure found interesting while interviewing.

“And that message is…?” she prolonged her question.

“Only God knows,” you exhaled. Stopping in front of the building, where a lavish black car was parked awaiting her entrance, she finally turned back to face you.

“Yn,” she called you softly. “If you want me to take your idea seriously, you have to make more effort than this.” The clicking sound of her heels ceased as she entered the car, the door left open for you to close and circle around the vehicle to enter from the other side.

Working for Sandra was like working for Miranda Priestly, only it was actually nice. It’d started working for her even before you graduated college, and although very… honest with her words, she was always kind enough to at least listen to your ideas once in a while.

So hearing that feedback from her was kind of heart shattering. She had finally given you an opportunity to write something, not just carry her things around and take her meeting notes. Write. And you had been working harder than ever in it, using all of your free time on preparing, planning and writing it.

The car ride was quiet for a while, as you tried to free your mind from the self doubt she’d cast upon you. Sandra typed rapidly on her phone, and by the smile on her face you knew she must have been texting her new Italian boyfriend. So, you waited till she was done typing, eyes leaving the screen to resume your talking.

“Ibra messaged earlier saying everyone was ready and waiting at the studio. Stephanie, the photographer Mr. Wayne recommended, was already set. He said they are ready to start as soon as we get there,” you finished with a gulp, and knowing you well, Sandra turned to look at you.

“And what?” she questioned, voice monotone.

“One of the male models bailed out last minute, ” you informed, her fingers snapping to pinch the bridge of her nose. “He said they were trying to find him.”

“Or a replacement,” she cut you off.

“A replacement, of course.”

Sandra simply nodded in response, and resumed her incessant typing. You prayed she wasn’t sexting with the guy again, and to avoid another embarrassment, focused your eyes on the damp streets of Gotham. Grabbing your phone, you messaged one of the other assistants at the studio to let them know you’d need to find someone else to fill the empty spot.

As you made your way to the glass doors of the studio, you watched the people inside frantically move around, readying themselves for the grand arrival of Sandra Bevilaqua. Upon setting her Louboutin clad feet in the room, they all stopped. The Sandra effect.

“Ibra!” she called out for her favorite art director, and a tall and slender man came out from behind a white set of curtains and walked to her, giving her a quick embrace before turning to you with a brief acknowledgement.

Then, Ibra and Sandra stepped away from you, deep in discussion about the photoshoot at hand, and you took that as your cue to stay back and have a small break after the incessant running being Sandra’s assistant took. You needed coffee anyway.

You scanned the room looking for the small table that usually contained tons of cups filled with nectar of the gods to the brim. Warm and delicious. Finding the table just in a corner, close to the industrial style floor to ceiling windows. By the table stood a girl not much younger than you, camera in hand, and stealing a few snacks that were also placed on it.

“They got this Brazilian thing, they call it coxinha, I think. You should try that one, they’re really good” you suggested, taking a large cup that had ‘macchiato’ written on it as she turned to see you, a beaming smile on her face.

“I already got some of them,” she laughed, pointing to the napkin tucked inside her jacked pocket filled with those little snacks, and you had to let out a giggle too.

While she continued her nibbling and picking at the snacks on offer, you distracted yourself with the not unusual studio, a place you’d come to know now fairly well since starting to work at Runway. A few models recognized you too, waving hello and moving on with their preparations.

Being part of this world was quite insane, to be honest. You grew up having to hide your magazines under your bed because according to your religious parents it taught young girls to be “depraved” and “promiscuous” and not “wife material”. When you got the opportunity to work for them, you had to lie, and you still did, telling your parents you worked for Gotham Times instead.

You were too lost in thinking, watching the traffic move down the street, that you forgot you still had some work to do.

“Yn,” one of the other assistants ran to you. “Have you found the replacement?”

“I told you to find it!” you whisper-screamed, not wanting people to know you still had problems in your hand.

“I thought you would do it. You said…”

“Find a new model,” you repeated your text harshly at her.

“I-I thought y-you just sent it to me to remember to do it later,” she told you. Fucking stupid girl, you wanted to scream out, because you had something around ten minutes to start the shoot and one model still missing. But you were once in her spot, and you knew how upset she’d get after. 

So you took your coffee and planned to walk out of the room in search of a model, even if you had to beg people on the street to do it. However, you didn’t count on someone blocking your way out, nearly causing you to drop your coffee if he wasn’t fast enough to hold the cup for you.

“Careful there,” he smiled, but your face turned to a frown as soon as you recognized the dark hair and the sky blue eyes. “Hello, love. Didn’t let it spill on you this time,” Jason winked, trying to initiate a conversation, a smugness set on his face. 

Rolling your eyes, you removed your cup out of his grip, and bumping on his shoulder, walked away. Beelining to the corridor, you pulled your phone out and proceeded to search for the several phone numbers you’d be calling for the next few minutes. As you tried to think of what to say, rehearsing the words in your head, the blue eyed man would flock in instead, slowing your work down tremendously. But you had bigger problems to solve.

As you had anticipated, for the past ten minutes you had your phone glued to your ear, having called dozens of different modeling agencies begging them to send you someone, something, to save you. However, the best they could give you was “We can try, but it’s too last minute”. Well, fuck them. Now, you were about to run into the streets and start begging people to model for a fashion magazine.

“Yn!” you heard the soft yet powerful voice of your boss calling. Running back inside, you spotted her chatting with Ibra in the middle of the room. “Have you found a replacement?” she asked as soon as you arrived beside her.

“Errm… The agencies said it’s too last minute to find someone,” you offered, already awaiting reprimand.

“How come… How are we supposed to start the shoot then? Ibra!” she called Ibrahim again, words starting to just jump out of her mouth, something she rarely did, but that only happened when she was truly exasperated.

“We can start shooting the other models until Yn…” here it comes. “... finds someone else to fill the spot, yah?” he looked at you, eyes begging you to comply, and you did so, nodding incessantly as Sandra smiled away, happy with the option presented by the art director.

With a deep breath, you took another look around, tried to find something to distract yourself for just a moment. Mind working at a high voltage, you felt like you needed to decelerate, to take one, two, three breaths till your mind could start working again. The stressful situation making you instantly uneasy.

Your distraction came in the form of the raven haired demon, chatting happily with the blonde photographer you’d spoken to earlier. It then came to you dozens of questions about that situation. Why was Jason here in the first place? You’d only ever found him at the gym and at parties, and you honestly didn’t know what the hell he did for work, but he certainly didn’t work at anything related to this. This was your job, you knew everybody. He was never around before, unless…

Unless he knew the photographer.

She was beautiful. Long blond hair, eyes as blue as his, and an enchanting smile even you couldn’t deny. Were they together? She did seem a lot younger, but it’d be just like the type of guy he is to go after fresh, young babes. Urg. You hated him. Were you one of his young babes? Were just a dumb little fuck?

Urg. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Instead, you opted for burning holes in his head with your eyes, glued to the scene ahead of you. He was laughing, laughing, with her, like you were all a joke. If everything was… Stop, Yn. You won’t get mad at him. You won’t. But the ache in your heart told you otherwise.

“Yn?” Sandra snapped her fingers before your eyes, breaking you from your trance. “What are you doing? Have you figured it out already?”

“Hmmm… I’m still thinking,” you gave a half-assed reply. Your eyes lingered from her to the boy stuck in your head. And she must have been following your gaze, because her own head snapped to the two inappropriate flirts chit chatting on the corner. A bright smile forming on her red lips.

“Perfect,” she stated softly and took one step in their direction.

“Wait, no!” you screamed, pulling at her arm. “Jason isn’t a good idea.”

“You know him?” before you had the chance to fix your mess, she continued. “Have you seen him naked?”

You almost choked at her question, and could bet a million dollars your face must’ve turned red. “W-why would you think that? I don’t know him.” you lied, and she clearly saw through you, offering you a look adorned by her frowned eyebrows.

“You just told me his name, Yn. We’ll be needing him to pose shirtless for the shoot. We are, after all, doing a “Sculpted Bodies” issue. And he looks to be pretty muscular.” Taking her glasses from where they stood hooked to her neckline, she placed it on her nose to take a better look at the man in question, returning her walk in his direction. “Don’t tug at my arm again, you’re not my child and call Ibra to find this man a new outfit. Hey, you?”

She screamed, and like a magnet, all eyes were on the scene.

“Jason, isn’t it? Yn here told. We are in need of a new male model, would you go back there and change?” she let him no, offering him no other option.

“Jason can’t,” you tried to argue, and his eyes snapped to your frame.

“Why not?” he asked, smugness still prevailing on the way he talked to you. “I’d love to.”

“That would be an awesome idea,” the blonde photographer chimed in.

“Of course you think so,” you gave her a forced smile, holding yourself together to not roll your eyes in front of your boss. “He has work.”

“I do not,” he scoffed, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Perfect!” Sandra clapped. “Ibra honey, find this beautiful piece of man a new outfit.”

Turning around, Sandra walked away, the blonde photographer you didn’t even care to remember the name following suit, swaying her hips as she strolled on the wooden floor. Moving your face, you found Jason’s eyes still lingering on your, a dark smirk plastered on his face.

“Please, don’t,” you asked, almost begging if you weren’t too proud.

“Why?” his question was filled with amusement. “Your boss said it herself. I’m perfect.

“You’re ruining my day,” you hissed through gritted teeth. In an attempt to look intimidating, your closed wrists rested on your waist, but there was no way you could ever frighten Jason.

“Why? Can’t stand the sight of me for too long, love?” he now whispered dangerously close to your face. Hoarse voice making you shiver. “Didn’t think I’d noticed you avoiding me at the gym?”

“Someone here is paying a lot of attention to me, it seems,” you hit him back. You prayed no one around noticed your interaction, because they would see clearly that there was something going on between you two.

“I wasn’t the one staring, was I?” he deadpanned. If any of you moved an inch, your noses would be touching, and probably much else would follow. Gathering all your strength, you pulled back.

“Fuck you,” you whispered before moving away.

“Already did,” he bit back a smile, walking past you towards Ibrahim to go and get changed. His own hip swaying left to right as he walked, the movement hypnotizing you as he went.

Soon enough, all models were positioned on stage, barely sporting any clothes bar some thin skin toned underwear, transparent fabrics or one single piece of garment. Jason, in all his glory and toned chest, wore a pair of white boxer underwear that left evident the not so little friend he owned down there.

One makeup artist had bathed his chest with some kind of oil, sliding her dark blue nails over his entire torso. In clear fuck boy behaviour, a shadow of a smile loomed his face when he looked at her through his lashes. You felt a muscle on your jaw jolting at the interaction, deciding that you’d had enough, and would be much better off attending to something else.

You tried the coffee table, but not even a sweet macchiato could clear your mind of the man you fucked and wished would desintegrate. Through the corner of your eye, you dared to steal one more look at him, only to find his eyes already set on you. Even from afar, you noticed them darkening, changing their essence to something that left you uneasy. In desperate need of air.

Truth be told, this man rented a four story penthouse with three hundred bedrooms in your mind since the night you’d slept over at his. Occupying a space that once was free to help you function properly, but now, you were a horny mess 90% of the day. Yes, you touched yourself to his picture lingering in your memory countless times since that day. And each one of them made you feel better than the other.

However, none of them had you feeling as good as he had made you feel that night. None of them had his touches to drive you wild, or gave you the feel of his tongue on your nipples. None of them whispered dirty things in your ear. But more specifically, none of them made you come as much as he did in just one night.

Shaking those thoughts away, you averted your eyes from his and sat down on a puffer chair, watching the photoshoot with an empty head. The group shot was done, as Stephanie, as you remembered, dismissed the other models to start on the individual shots. And to no surprise of yours, she had Jason shoot first.

He posed and flexed his muscles to her loud cheers and claps, letting out laughs and hypnotizing smiles you found yourself hooked to. Their partnership was evident, as Jason understood her words and requests promptly, and you had to admit she seemed to know just which angles and positions he’d look hotter.

Sandra and Ibra watched the little show just attentively as you did, but you were sure the thoughts in your head never crossed theirs. Giving short jumps, and faking boxing punches, he turned the playful shoot into something more intense. His eyes, eyebrows and his whole demeanor change drastically, to now exuberate this dense, dark, sensual, almost pornographic, aura.

He lowered the hem of his underwear a bit, showing you the trail that had driven you crazy the last time you peered at it. Now, it was on full display to you, and you had to bite down at your lip to hold in the moan you wanted to let out. He turned around, showing you his back, with his side profile setting up what you already thought would be the perfect picture. You wondered if any of your marks could be seen on his back, if Stephanie could see them from up close.

Your breathing hitched, and you had to cross your legs and feel just a bit of friction there to pull yourself back together.

The music in the studio shifted. The dark, sexy tunes of The Weeknd turned into the more upbeat pop rock sound of SZA’s F2F, a surprise to you, given the feel and themes of the photoshoot, but something that totally spoke to you in this moment of your life.

You couldn’t take him out of your mind, you thought of him until you fell asleep. You wondered if he planned on making Stephanie the girl for tonight. Or worse, if he’d already done it, done her. It had been a while since that night, he wouldn’t take that long to find someone else to fuck like he did to you. Fuck like he fucked you.

The thought made you feel nauseous.

Just as the next line began, the sudden realization of your feelings hit you like a train. The need to be slammed against a wall, picked up and fucked like you would never need your legs again, justified by the light blue shade indicating your ovulating period on your tracker app. That explained everything, you thought, finding the only possible way you could ever be this crazy about a man.

When Miss SZA said ‘Now I’m ovulating and I need rough -’, that was it. No truer words were ever spoken. Just his presence was enough to make your thoughts incoherent, but having him doing all those poses and stares was driving you insane. Oh, how it sucked to be a woman in heat!

You didn’t realize you bit your lips until the silvery taste of blood hit your tongue, and you averted your eyes from him to instead stare at your own nails. Afraid that if your eyes lingered on him for much longer, you wouldn’t be able to control yourself.

When Stephanie’s voice trapped your attention to something the distance didn’t let you decipher, you felt a tightness in your chest. A weird feeling of fear, anxiety and desire mix together, as Jason refocused his sight on you, walking slowly in your direction. His man tits bounced as he walked, perfectly muscled, and perfectly fit for the photoshoot.

Where were you with your head, you thought. There was no way Sandra would have ever listened to your nonsensical words, he was clearly perfect for that. His body was perfectly sculpted, as if he was handmade by Michelangelo himself, and perfectly decorated by his countless tattoos. 

You assessed him. Up and down. Every inch, every single detail. Eyes lingering longer than you should, as he walked to you slowly. His eyes darker than you remembered, the bright blue turning deep. His body moved light, lighter than a feather it seemed, as if he glided instead of walk. Everything in him screamed godlike, and you licked your lips as your mouth seemed to dry. Still focused on you, he licked his own lip, making you feel…

Yn. What are you doing?

Breaking away from your thoughts, your eyes widened from the realization of what your mind was doing to you, rushing away from your. Out of the room, out of the building, out of here. You felt your heart race, speeding faster than a Formula 1 car. The air trapped in your lungs, making it harder to breath.

“Ouch,” you heard someone complain from behind you, as you closed the door without looking and sprinted towards one of the corridors. “Yn!” you heard his voice call, but you could not stop. Fuck, why is he here?

Taking a corner, you found a door leading to some outside area when Jason’s grip stopped you from taking any step further.

“What the fuck did I do to you?” he questioned bitterly. You had to roll your eyes at that. What haven’t you done?

You tried to remove yourself from his grip, but he was insistent. “What the fuck did you do to me?” you laughed sarcastically, finding amusement at his clueless question. “God you’re fucking infuriating.”

Turning around, you forced his hold off, but you were playing yourself if you ever thought you could fight him. You basically dragged him along, but in reality he didn’t move an inch. He was heavier and stronger than any weights you pulled at the gym.

“Oh, you leave my apartment like a mad woman. Did everything so you wouldn’t have to face me for weeks and tried to sabotage a job opportunity, and I am the one who’s infuriating?” he spat out. His face getting red from anger.

“Haha, you were not even supposed to be here!” you spat in return.

“Oh, so am I not supposed to support my little sister?” he inquired. You went quiet.

His sister. His fucking sister. How stupid were you. “You’re ruining my job,” you tried to find an argument. Something to fight him back.

“I saved your job right there!” His eyes grew large, burning into yours. He wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t particularly right.

“Let me go! You’re hurting me,” you nearly cried out, wanting to flee this situation desperately. He let you go, and in his eyes, for the brief moment you dared to look in them, you found a shadow of guilt.

With heavy footsteps, you made a beeline to the door, feeling the lump on your throat tightening. 

“You can’t take that night off your head too, can you?” he voiced, and you had to stop. He was thinking of it too, all this time. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down. Swans, rainbows, blue ice cream, new skin care products. Anything good thoughts to take him, this, out of your brain.

“You’ve been thinking of it all day. All night,” he continued, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You felt him behind you, a looming shadow above your small frame. “My lips on your neck. Your nipples,” he said, fingertips gracing your exposed arms. “My fingers inside you.”

Your eyes were closed. Picturing every scene, every word that left his mouth. He was right, you couldn’t shake him off your mind, but so couldn’t he. He was just as much stuck on it as you. You was just as much in his mind and he was in yours. Just as pathetic.

You felt his breath touch the skin on your neck, and his fingers pulling your hair out of your shoulders. “Me ripping you apart,” he whispered, voice carrying so much lust you had a hard time holding up.

You didn’t.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you noticed his heavy breathing. His oily chest rising and falling, almost touching your back. So close you felt the bulge in his underwear sliding against your bum. Beside you, you found a door.

Then, you made a promise. If the door was locked, you would leave him there, you would not look back. You’d forget everything and anything about Jason. However, if it was open…

It was. Opening into a small and empty room, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. And then, looking at him from over your shoulder, you begged for confirmation. You begged him to say he felt it too. That he needed it too.

Bobbing his head to the side, he motioned towards the opened room, telling you to get in. You did.

As soon as Jason closed the door behind him, you pushed him against the wall, frantically searching for his lips and finding it in a desperate, needy kiss. You needed him, you were starving for him. You needed his lips, you needed the air in his lungs. His breath, his warmth, his hands all over your body. You needed every single piece of him he had to offer, because he’d been in your head all week long, making you mad, deconcentrated, a mess. And he needed to pay for all that.

Spinning you two around, Jason had you pinned against the wall. Your legs didn’t waste time before wrapping around his waist, and it took him no effort to find a place for his hands on your ass, holding you up and close. You kissed ferociously, hungrily. Your tongues battled each other, struggling for power. Your fingers at the nape of his neck tugged at the hairs and he moaned inside your lips. Just like the last time.

But unlike last time, you did not have time to waste.

Pulling his dick out of his underwear, you let your legs go from his waist to take off your jeans. “Someone is eager,” he joked.

“Shut up!” you snapped, bringing him back for another deep kiss. He stroked his penis and you could feel his hands moving close to your belly. Your naked ass hit the cold stone wall, and your body jolted a little. Pulling at your waist, Jason had you bent over a desk in no time.

He tickled your folds with his head, but your hands on his wrist told him you were not playing today. He slammed inside of you with no second thoughts, and you almost let out a scream if it wasn’t for his mouth slapping on your lips. You felt your insides burn, his girth ripping you open as he slammed his dick in and out of you with speed. His calloused hand smacked against the soft skin of your ass, letting out a loud sound around the room. You nearly cried, body shaking as the skin burned where he had hit.

The smell of sex filled the room, as the sound of him hammering against your juices echoed on the walls. Jason started grunting behind you, his throat releasing feral sounds that had you hitting your high in less than a minute. Not much later, you felt the warmth of Jason’s seed filling you up, and your mind freaked out for a brief moment before it was clouded again once he forcefully turned you around and tackled you in another kiss.

Sitting on the desk, you brought him closer by his penis, pulling it in yourself and starting to grind against his crotch. Jason let a laugh vibrate through your body, mouths still tangled together, holding tightly at your thighs and thrusting hard inside of you. He slid a hand inside your shirt, taking one of your breasts out of your bra and pressing it so hard a tear formed in your eye.

Whatever the hell you two were doing now felt incredible. Your mind was starting to go numb again, and the tightness you’d feel minutes earlier had already returned. You let out a few cries in Jason’s mouth, as his teeth picked at your bottom lip, making sure you’d leave here with them red and swollen.

He didn’t care if anyone notice you’d just fuck. He wanted to parade it around. The thought of everyone knowing he had you all fuck over in an empty room making his release shoot within you once again. However, he didn’t stop until he felt you wall clenching around him, milking all he had left as your own milk slid through your legs.

As you tried to steady your breath, Jason left pecks on your lips, cheeks, and eyes. God damn it, he loved your fucked out face, he loved you post sex glow. He loved…

You search for his lips. They were warm, and without them you felt cold. You felt him moving out of you, and the emptiness afterwards. He resumed his little pecks on your lips after he’d put his penis back inside his underwear, handing you yours to put back on. You took them, but instead of putting them on, let it hand over his shoulders and you pulled him into a deeper kiss.

This one, though, was passionate. Slow, careful. It made your stomach spin, and the butterflies get busy in your core. It was good, and you wanted to be in it forever. You wanted to…

No! A voice screamed in your head, and you pushed him away immediately. You do not have feelings for Jason. You do not.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jason asked, a hand on his lower lips taking you to the bite you’d just given it. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” you screamed exasperated, putting your pants back on. “You are what’s wrong with me, Jason. You!”

“Me?! You’re the one who threw yourself on me,” he threw his hands up in defeat.

“After you kept putting things in my head…”

“Me? I keep… What the fuck do you have in that fucking head?” he cut you before losing his temper. You were truly something incredible.

“A brain. Something you lack, perhaps,” you replied harshly. “You keep making me do these stupid things.”

“I didn’t make you do anything, you know it well,” he stated, hands hanging on his hips, looking at you as if you'd just gone mad. Perhaps you really had. “Stop acting like an innocent little angel, because you’re nothing of it. Nothing!”

You let your mouth hang open, flabbergasted that he dared to say something like that. You know you were no angel, but he was completely missing the point. “That’s not it!”

“And what is it then?” he inquired, anger painting his face red once more.

“You’re just a fuck boy,” you screamed and he stopped in his tracks. “If you think I’d waste my fucking time in a lowlife like you, you’re just fucking wrong!” you spat out. The words had left your mouth before you could properly think of them, emotions taking over your thinking process. But they were out, and they hurt Jason more than he’d like to admit. It felt like something broke inside his chest, the shattered glass of what once was his heart.

“You’re the one who acts like a stupid spoiled bitch,” he returned, soon regretting it. Your eyes filled with water, and some tears fled without your consent. Those were the words that hurt you the most to hear. Not because they were new, but because you’d been told that countless times, to the point you actually believed it.

Opening the door with rage, you ran out of the room and stomped your way outside of the building. A single tear sliding down your face, the effort you put to keep the others in taking inimaginable strength. 

When you got to the reception, the other assistant from earlier noticed you coming her way. “Yn,” she called worriedly.

“Tell Sandra I’m heading out. I’m feeling sick.”

The cold wind welcomed you outside, forgetting everything you’d left in the studio to head home. You wanted to fall to the ground, curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out. Never have you felt this upset and frustrated. And it wasn’t even Jason’s fault. So you arrived home, threw yourself on the sofa, and allowed the tears to fall.

A single tear fell from your eye as you stared blankly at your bathroom door. You were curled up on the floor, hugging your knees against your chest, waiting for those damned three minutes to be over.

You were late. Weeks late. And anxious thoughts were starting to take over. You would be fucked. Your parents would kill you. It would ruin everything. You were too young, and you were just starting your career. It just can’t be happening. There was no way you could do it on your own. That was not part of the plan.

The lump in your throat only got tighter. Counting the seconds desperately, you missed the count dozens of times, but you were sure the wait was now over.

Forcing yourself to stand up, you take slow steps to your sink. Getting the white and blue stick in your trembling hands, you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Too afraid of the reality it could bring you.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Red eyes, puffy cheeks. You don’t even remember brushing your hair today. Taking a deep, prolonged breath, you take a look down. The eight letters showing on screen scaring you shitless.

Pregnant.

Oh, fuck!

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @jasontoddslover ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo

[puck-luck]

frat fever | cole caufield

warnings: use of Y/N, situationship, deffo gaslighting from the frat boy (realism), fingering, hickeys, PROTECTED p in v (first time ever on this account fr), mentions of STDs and cheating (but is it technically cheating?) pairing: frat boy!cole caufield x fem!reader summary: frat cole frat cole frat cole!! dear cole caufield, please give me a chance, i wish i had met you at the pike house like y/n did wc: 3189

You had kept yourself together pretty well, all things considered. You were used to Cole leaving you on delivered, only replying to keep up your snap streak. During the weekend, things were different– Cole would reach out first, always late at night and always searching for one thing. You weren’t delusional. You know the terms of your relationship.

You tell Cole about your day, and Cole only cares about you on the weekend, when he strikes out at the Pike tailgate ahead of the football game and doesn’t manage to find a girl at the bar after the game is over. 

It’s the perfect situationship. You’re annoyed, but not mad enough to break things off. Cole makes up for his typical frat behavior by folding your laundry when he comes over and falling asleep wrapped around you, but never complaining when you wake him up and kick him out. It works. 

So you can’t really explain why you’re marching over to the Pike house now, phone in your hand, frown on your face. On your phone lies the proof that your relationship isn’t as exclusive as Cole pledged it was last weekend– a picture of him dancing up on a girl, light-up cowboy hat on his head. In fact, he had told you that he couldn’t go out last weekend because he had some family thing, and you had believed him. 

Now, it was clear that he lied: both about going home for the weekend, and about only wanting to fuck you.

You rap on the door of the frat house and it swings open. One of the boys from Cole’s pledge class opens the door, surprise written all over his face. 

“Y/N?” Jack asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Cole?” You demand, pushing past him. You’re now in the foyer of the house, surprisingly clean and quiet for a Monday morning.

“He’s in his room, geez,” Jack replies, sounding annoyed. “You don’t have to come in here all mad.”

You don’t reply, just turning on your heel and marching down the hall. You’ve been to Cole’s room plenty of times. You’ve pestered him for bathroom privileges at parties, always ending up sneaking away with him to have a quickie when he relents. 

You walk through Cole’s bedroom door without knocking, seething a little bit.

“Y/N,” Cole greets, jumping in surprise. “What the fuck?”

“You said you weren’t fucking anyone else,” You accuse, tossing your phone at his chest. “What the fuck is that, then, huh?”

Cole scrambles, holding your phone up so he can take in the picture. He pales a little bit, but catches himself and brushes it off. “We were just dancing.”

“Just dancing,” you repeat, laughing sarcastically. “So why did you tell me you were going out of town this past weekend? To see family? I’d hate if you were dancing on family like that, you lying shit.”

“Whoa,” Cole laughs. “Dude, you’re freaking out. My plans changed. I didn’t realize I had to clear them with you, Mother.”

You nearly growl. Your hands itch to reach out and slap him, furious and frustrated. He always has the most biting, annoying response to your statements, making them sound irrational and crazy. You hate feeling irrational and crazy. 

Of course Cole is a grown man, he doesn’t have to clear his plans with you. You feel silly for barging in and implying that that’s what you want at all. He’s also a frat boy– a dedicated brother, considering how often he talks about the frat and wears his letters when you see him, so you shouldn’t have believed him when he said you were the only girl he wanted to fuck. Your arrangement is one out of convenience, not feelings. You’re teetering dangerously close on feelings territory, and this is just about sex.

“I told you I didn’t want you fucking other girls,” you say, doubling down. “I don’t want to get an STD from you.”

“I told you I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole replies, rolling his eyes. “You’re overreacting, baby. Come sit with me. We’ll watch a movie while you calm down.”

He pats the bed next to him, then puts his arm up over the pillows. He’s shirtless, just lounging about in his room, and your eyes are drawn to the smooth skin of his side. You know he’s been working out– he goes to the gym every day, usually sends you a snap in the mirror of the locker room. It’s really showing. You watch his muscles ripple when he sweeps his arm out.

It’s distracting you from just how annoying and bitchy he’s being. You don’t want to sit down with him, or watch a movie with him, and you certainly don’t want him to tell you to calm down.

“Baby,” Cole repeats, a pout on his face. “Don’t make me beg.”

You glare at him, but your resolve crumbles anyway. “Fine,” you mutter, climbing onto the bed next to Cole. You settle in, frown on your face and arms crossed against your chest. 

Cole’s arm falls over your shoulder and he tugs you into his side. “Where’s my sweet girl, huh?” He asks, patting your arm and shaking you a bit. “Why’re you being so mean?”

Why am I being mean? You want to scream. You’re the one sleeping with other people!

But at the same time, the other part of you is blushing and wiggling happily in her seat. ‘My’ sweet girl, he said.

You don’t reply, trying to keep the unimpressed look in your eyes as you stare at Cole. He cradles your face, then moves his hands so he’s boxing you in. He starts to rise up on his knees, hovering above you, and you shrink down to escape his closeness. You don’t go far, because Cole plants a knee between your thighs and effectively stops you from moving any further.

“I see how it is,” Cole says. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not!” You exclaim, planting a hand on Cole’s chest. Warm. Bare. Oh God.

Cole grins and he leans down to kiss your shoulder, then up your neck. You let out a breath at the sensation, your body relaxing beneath him. Your hands find his hair and you want to stroke your fingers through the strands, but you pull him away by his locks instead.

Cole growls playfully, removing your hands from his hair and holding your wrists above your head with one hand. “You’re jealous,” he repeats.

“I’m not,” You retort.

Cole talks over you. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, but you know I’m all yours.”

You frown, ready to retort. Cole rolls his hips down onto yours and the complaint evaporates in your mouth. 

“Do I need to remind you?” Cole asks. He’s teasing you, mocking you. “Did you forget that my dick only gets hard for you, baby?”

“Cole,” you warn, the last shred of your dignity marking the word.

He frowns, making his eyes big and sad. He brings his hand down and pushes your knees apart so he can really crowd into your space. He grinds down against your clothed cunt and relishes in the little sound that you make.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole promises, and the illogical part of you believes him. 

It seals the deal. You feel like you’ve suddenly locked the logical part of your brain behind bars, in a soundproof room. 

Cole leans down for a kiss and the image fades from your mind. He captures your lips, waiting for you to respond before he slips his tongue into your mouth. When he pulls away, you follow. 

“There she is,” he coos. “My sweet girl. Want me to fuck you, make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“You missed me this weekend, didn’t you?” Cole asks, releasing your wrists so he can use both hands to raise your shirt. He pulls it over your head, then grabs one of your breasts, thumbing over your nipple. He bites his lip at the sight and you keen. “That’s why you stormed in here, all mad. You missed me.”

Pathetically, you nod. It seems like the right answer at the time– anything to keep Cole’s hands on you. 

Cole’s face breaks into a smile and you soak it in like a reward. “Sweetheart, all you had to do was send me a message and I would’ve been in your bed. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“Shut up,” you groan, a little embarrassed at the pet name. “Just fuck me.”

“You can ask nicer than that,” Cole chides, pulling away from you. He pushes his shorts down, leaving him just in some tight boxer-briefs that have your mouth watering. “I know you have manners, Y/N.”

“Please, Cole,” you reply. It’s half-hearted at best. 

Cole hums, unimpressed. He slips your shorts down your legs and pets over your panties, just skimming his fingers over the fabric. “So wet for me, but you’re not acting like it. Why do you make things hard for me, baby?”

He dips his fingers into your panties, slicking up his digits with your wetness. He traces your hole, but doesn’t push in. He completely ignores your clit.

You whine, rolling your hips against his hand. He stills his palm against you, making you do all the work.

“Say you need my cock,” Cole commands, looking at you like you need his guidance, like you can’t function without him. “That’s all you need to say, and then I’ll touch you.”

“Cole,” you say, blushing red. 

He pushes the tip of his middle finger inside of you, then retreats. He repeats the action, filling you more with each dip into your heat. “Say it, baby. Tell me you need my cock and it’ll be all yours.”

Your hips twitch against his hand, his ring finger now starting to join his middle. He’s stretching you wide, staring into your eyes as he does it and taking in each heave of your breath. He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth down to your chest. His tongue swirls against your nipple, then sucks the whole thing into his mouth. He moans against you, his fingers curling inside of you.

“Fuck, Cole,” you moan, a hand finding his shoulder. 

“Mm?” Cole hums, looking up at you, and the vibrations against your nipple are almost too much.

“I need your cock,” you plead, arching your back and rolling your hips into his hand. Cole prompts you again, the heel of his hand stroking your clit. “Please, Cole, I need your cock inside of me. I need you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Cole praises, drawing his fingers out of your cunt. He licks them clean, giving you a show. It makes you whimper, remembering all the times when his tongue danced up and down your slit and flicked over your clit until you came. “I’m going to give you what you need, don’t worry.”

He tucks his fingers into his waistband and inches the briefs down. You nearly drool when his length is revealed, a dribble of precum leaking from his slit. Cole fists his cock, laughing as your eyes follow his movements, pumping up and down.

“You need it bad,” Cole observes, smirking. “But there seems to still be something in my way.”

He pointedly lowers his eyes to your core and you rush to remove your panties, a wet line of slick attaching itself to your thigh while you hurry to rid yourself of the scrap of fabric. Once the panties are on the other side of the room, you spread your legs wide, waiting for him to fill the space and press into you.

“So eager,” Cole chides. “Spread your lips, babe. I want to see my hole.”

You choke on a gasp, his possessive tone like a squeeze to your heart. You bring a hand down between your legs and pull your folds apart, clenching as the chill in the air hits your bare entrance.

Cole’s eyes fill with fire at the sight of you, pliant and obedient beneath him. There's a reason he keeps coming back to you, after all. 

But you also don’t trust him, and Cole can’t have that. He needs to punish you just a bit more.

“You’re so mean to me, Y/N,” he says conversationally, still stroking himself. 

You frown and shake your head. “No, I'm not.”

“Uh-huh,” Cole teases. He lists off the reasons. “You accuse me of fucking other girls, you think I'm going to give you an STD…”

He inches toward the edge of his bed, reaching for his bedside drawer.

“I didn't mean that,” you say, trying to salvage the situation.

Cole draws a condom out of the drawer and tears the wrapping. He rolls the rubber onto his member and you pout.

“None of that, baby,” Cole reprimands. “You're worried that I'm fucking other girls and I might give you something. I guess we have to be safe until I can run to the Student Health Center and get tested, right?”

You grumble an agreement, frowning more when Cole lets out a chuckle and crowds into your space.

He nudges his way under your neck and sucks a bruise there, something that you’ll have to cover up for your class the following morning. You realize and push him away, but Cole just traps your hands again and brings them back above your head. He continues to suck and lick over your neck, purpling the area.

With his other hand, he lines himself up with your dripping entrance. He pushes forward, groaning as your heat envelops him.

“So tight,” he praises against your neck. He kisses, then shifts forward another inch. “I love your pussy.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as he snaps his hips forward, burying the rest of himself inside of you. 

Cole sets a frantic pace, grunting and moaning in your ear as he chases the pleasure surrounding his cock. 

“How could I fuck other girls when I’ve got this perfect pussy,” Cole muses, the question coming out as more of a rhetorical statement. He thrusts forward, hard, making your jaw drop. “Only pussy I need, right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you agree, his cock bumping your g-spot with every thrust. Every other sound that falls from your lip is a moan or a whimper, but they’re bubbling up in your chest into something louder.

“And fuck, you love this cock,” Cole continues, biting his lip and concentrating on the bliss covering your features. “Nothing fills you quite like me? That’s why you were all jealous? You thought someone else was getting your dick?” His tone turns mocking, pitiful. “You just couldn’t stand the idea of someone else having me, is that it?”

“Yes,” you whine, repeating the word with each of his trusts. You agree over and over again, barely aware of what he’s saying. His pleasure is consuming you, tending to a fire in your stomach that’s almost out of control. You yelp when Cole’s thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing in harsh circles, but the yelp turns into a wanton keen. “Cole, fuck, I’m close.”

“Gonna scream my name when you come, baby?” Cole asks, then kisses your lips. He pulls back, the hand not rubbing your clit bundled in the pillow next to your head for leverage. “Let the whole house know who’s fucking you this good?”

“Cole,” you wail, clutching his wrist to ground yourself.

“A little louder, sweet girl,” Cole encourages, nudging your nose against his and panting into your mouth. “Tell ‘em who you belong to.”

Your chest lifts off the bed involuntarily and you cry out, a garbled version of Cole’s name mixed with the high-pitched moan signaling your release. It’s Cole’s favorite sound that you make, and most of the time, he rewards you by spilling inside of you.

He’s forced to spill his seed in the condom, groaning and stuttering above you as he does so. You feel oddly empty, even though you can feel him twitching inside of you as his come fills the condom. 

Cole’s thrusts slow and eventually stop, his hooded eyes meeting yours. His bottom lip drops from his teeth and it curves with a smile, dipping to catch yours. He draws out while kissing you. Eventually he rolls away and pinches the tip of the condom, removing it. He ties it off and launches it toward his trash can– and makes it.

He brightens, looking back at you to make sure you saw it. 

“Kobe,” you tease, and Cole laughs.

He wipes you down with one of the shirts on his bedroom floor, tossing the item towards the laundry hamper when he’s done. He doesn’t even shoot for the basket, just aims in the general direction. He kisses up your chest and sucks a bruise onto the curve of your breast, then pecks your lips.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” he repeats, patting your hip. “But I do have a chapter meeting in about an hour, so I’m going to have to kick you out.”

You pout and he matches the expression, leaning in to kiss it off your face. He stands and finds your shirt and shorts, bringing them back to the bed. He sits in front of you and holds them out. You push away from his comfortable pillows and hold your arms above your head.

Cole bites back a grin, his eyes flickering down to look at your tits before he helps you slip the t-shirt over your head. He smooths some non-existent wrinkles, cupping your boobs before he pulls away. You snatch the shorts from his hand and pull them on, climbing out of bed and finding your way to his mirror across the room. You fuss over your hair for a second, trying to tame the unruly mess, but you give up and tie it up with the ponytail holder on your wrist. 

“Are you going to text me later?” You ask Cole, eyebrow raised.

He crossed his arms behind his head, laying back on his pillows. Your eyes are drawn down to his cock, laying against his thigh and soft again. Ugh. You still want it to be inside of you.

“Maybe,” Cole replies easily, knowing that his vagueness is frustrating. He wiggles his own eyebrows at you, smirking at your glare. “You’ll have to wait and see, won't ya?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Caufield.”

“Well, you’ll die happy.” Cole sends you a little wave, scrunching his nose in a way that’s far too cute and unfair considering you have to leave. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Cole.”

You escape the frat house without running into any of the other guys, mercifully. As you walk toward your place, you pull your phone out of your pocket to text your best friend. 

Well, Cole isn’t fucking other girls

How do you know?

……… he told me

Good fucking God Y/N I thought we decided you weren’t going to sleep with him anymore

Too late

note: this is me. living vicariously. through my own writing. i miss you cole. why are you a dom in all of my recent fics. that's hot. i think it's probably because i'm manifesting.

I NEED A FRAT BOY TO SLEEP IN MY BED AND MAKE ME MISERABLE ASAP!! I'VE BEEN TOO NORMAL!! SOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE ME GO CRAZY and i nominate cole caufield

[strniohoeee]

reader breaks up with her bf bc she finds him cheating on her so she goes to the triplets house crying and chris comforts her

What Did I Do?

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader (friendship)

Synopsis: Receiving a DM that your boyfriend of two years has been cheating on you practically the whole relationship is something nobody ever wants. But sadly it was Y/N’s reality 🥀

Warnings⚠️: None, I lowkey went off script? Mannn idkkkkk. I wish time travel was real…(side note LMFAO)🤭

Song for imagine: Black Cab- Lola Young

Did I say something to make you fall

Out of love?

Makes me want to throw up

And I did

Isn't it funny how life can change in an instant? You could have everything you’ve ever wanted swiped from right under you. I prayed many nights that that wouldn’t be my fate. Begging the universe? God? Anyone really to finally let me have peace in my life.

So as I sat here with my stomach in a pit of anger and hurt, I sat cursing the Gods. What did I ever do to deserve an outcome like this? Love is truly a losing game. My blinking back tears as the messages just kept coming. One ping after another. Never thought I would get a ‘hey girly’ text, but hey there's a first for everything.

Betrayal, hurt and sadness lingered in my chest as my breathing began to shallow out. Videos, pictures and text messages of my boyfriend (soon to be ex) had in fact been cheating on me for the past year and a half of our two year relationship. Watching the videos and reading the messages made me physically sick. My tears fell instantly, but soon the disgust settled in. And shortly after was the extreme anger.

My leg bounced anxiously as I bit my nails, waiting for Lee to get home. Rarely ever did he see me truly angry, but lord did I want to key his car and spit in his face…. Hey maybe even smash his phone and then his car windows.

Too deep into my thoughts as my nails tapped the dining room table I hadn’t noticed Lee got home. Dropping his keys into the bowl left by the front door. I blinked back to reality and my leg began bouncing again as my nostrils flared.

“Hey baby” Lee smiled as he caressed my head and kissed my forehead before heading behind me to the fridge.

My silence clearly bothered him as I heard a small scoff. Seems ironic for him to be annoyed…. Not like hes been fucking another girl behind my back for most of our relationship.

“No hello? What's your issue?” He asks as he cracks his drink open, I was immediately annoyed

And now it was my turn to sigh

“A year and a half? Really Lee?” I asked slowly standing up

“What are you talking about?” He asks laughing

“PLEASE! Please don’t act fucking stupid” I replied shutting my eyes to calm myself down

“I really don’t know what's going on. Did I forget our anniversary?” He states again laughing once more

“Let me jog your memory sweetheart” I state opening my phone and offering him a smile

“Hey Y/N, I know you don’t know me, but I wanted to let you know Lee and I have been dating for a year and a half. I found out the other day you guys have been together for two years” I read to him

“ I mean poor girl you played us both you sick bastard” I replied looking up at his smug face

“Y/N… baby you have actually lost your mind. I can’t believe you’d believe some random jealous girl on the internet” He states shaking his head and chuckling

“You will not gaslight me baby” I said mocking his attitude

“Because I have plenty of proof, would you like to see it” I asked him opening my phone again

“Please enlighten me’’ he states crossing his arms over his chest

Oh man was this information going to have his head spinning faster than he can respond to me.

“Oh look what we have here, your phone number in her phone, oh and look at this “I miss you baby” “Can’t wait to take you to Vegas for our one year” “You looked so hot last night at dinner” “When can I see you?” “ I stated as I began to sniffle and tears began to fall from my eyes.

“And there’s more, let's keep reading some more shall we. You left me stranded alone with my sick aunt because you went to stay with her. You’re a fucking dog man! When I needed you the most because my aunt was dying you were in Tulum with this girl. I can not believe you.” I stated scrolling through the DM

“ I think you need some time alone” he stated looking at me wide eyed

“ That’s all you have to say?” I asked him

“This information is easily false” He replied

“Are you fucking kidding me? You know what isn’t false? These fucking pictures” I replied storming over to him

Showing him the pictures of him and that girl naked in bed.

“That's fake Lee? Huh? That’s fucking fake?” I asked him as I jabbed him in his chest with the corner of my phone

“Yeah you can fake messages, but you can not fake those photos. I know what your naked body looks like and so does that girl for a year and a half” I state backing away from him

I sat there basically begging for a why and all he could do was stare at me like I was crazy. I have never seen this side of him and it was making me physically sick

“Why aren’t you talking? WHY AREN’T YOU TALKING? WHY AREN’T YOU REACTING” I screamed at him

His lack of emotions sent me over the edge in to a fit of rage.

“You are a sick fucking man. How could you be with both of us? You can’t have your cake and eat it too” I stated glaring at him

“Looks like I did” He replied smuggly

My face dropped and all I could do was stare at him with no emotions. My heart was shattering even more than it already had. My eye twitched in anger. His face became very punchable.

“Get the fuck out” I replied as I stared at him blankly

Rolling his eyes he grabbed his stuff and headed to the door. Running up behind him I snatched his keys and slid the key to MY house off.

Throwing the keys back at him, they hit the floor and as he picked them up from the floor he looked up at me.

“All your shit will be outside by tomorrow, pick it up and stay the fuck out of my life” I state blankly as I held the door open for him

Before he could fully get out the door I slammed it against him. Hitting him hard as he stumbled down the first step. A grunt of pain left a smile on my face.

Shortly after I got in my car, allowing the silence to overtake me. Tears falling down my face as I screamed. The silence rattled as I banged my fist against the steering wheel. I was so angry and hurt. Yet I found myself driving to the one place I knew I’d find comfort.

Putting my car in park, I made my way to their front door. Ringing the doorbell I sat on their front step. Mascara ran down my face as I trembled from the cold. The tears never ending leaving a blurry view of the front door.

Thirty seconds later the front door opened.

“Hey Y- Woah! What happened, are you okay?” Chris asks me as he yanks me inside, locking the door behind us

“He cheated” I replied crying and falling to my knees at the end of their stairs

“What?” He asked getting nervous

“Chris he’s been cheating for a year and a half, Lee threw our two year relationship down the drain. I can’t believe this” I replied hyperventilating

Stooping down to my level Chris began to rub my back. Cooing me as he listened to my sobs

“Take your time, you don’t have to talk about it” He replied as he helped me up to walk up the stairs

“I saw the messages and the videos and the pictures. I feel so gross he was two timing me basically our whole relationship. I’m so dirty I can’t believe this” I choked out as we made it down to his room.

“No do not say that! You are not dirty or gross. Lee is the scum of this earth for cheating on you” He says as he held me in his arms

“Anybody who cheats on their significant other is a piece of shit, but especially if they cheat on someone like you. Y/N you are an amazing person and you deserve way better than Lee” He states as he rubs my back

“No I don’t” I replied muffled by the fabric of his hoodie

“Yes you fucking do. Do not let that piece of shit define your love life from now on. You will find a better man who will respect you and love you for you. A man who won’t cheat on someone like a dumb ass coward” he stated as he pulled me away

“I just can’t believe he would do such a thing” I replied looking up at Chris and wiping my nose

“His name is Lee and he has to take liquid medicine because he’s too pussy to swallow a pill. You my friend will be just fine” Chris replied laughing, his statement made me laugh because it was indeed true. And that made me realize how pathetic Lee truly is.

“There’s that radiant smile of yours” He says winking at me

“So keep your head up because he is not worth a drop of your tears or a waste of your breath” He says to me as he hugs me once more

“Thank you Chris for always being there for me” I replied offering him a warm smile

“Always Y/N, you are my bestfriend and seeing you hurt kills me” He replied wiping my tears from my eye.

“Now how are you planning to get him back?” Chris asks smirking evilly

“Noo I won’t do that” I replied shaking my head

“Oh come on! The queen of getting people back since we were kids?” He replied cocking an eyebrow at me

Glancing up at him I smirked at him, Racking my brain for an idea

“On second thought there is one thing we can do” I replied getting Chris in on the revenge scheme

The next morning before Lee came back to pick his stuff up from my house. Chris and I threw his belongings on the side of the street. Pouring syrup and glitter all over everything. Laughing as we did it because we knew everything was virtually ruined.

Tossing his expensive items from the second floor balcony. Saying “whoops” every time we chucked something over the railing.

Keeping everything I purchased him, so I could resell everything. Let’s just say Lee wasn’t very happy about his destroyed items and especially when he found out I was keeping the items I purchased him.

Chris made me feel better and ultimately forget all about Lee and his cheating bitch ass.

What would I do without an amazing friend like Chris……

The End

Thank you all sooo much for the support and sticking by me🥺🖤🖤. I really love yall 😭💕💕💕

-J💅🏽

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 9 - "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Red Hood's swearing, mention of character death

Danny blinked a couple of times before he realized what exactly happened. He had been with Alfred making some cookies for the rest of the family after Oracle had reported they would all come back uninjured. And Danny had decided to help Alfred in hopes to get back on Damian's good side. The boy had been pretty short and huffy with him ever since Danny had admitted that he didn't plan on getting reinstated as hero.

The rest of the family had taken it sort or well, sure there were the occasional side comments in hopes to maybe convince him to come on patrol with one of them every now and then but otherwise his decision was greatly accepted. Alfred had appeared especially happy when Danny had announced that after having lived with the Waynes for little more than a year now.

Of course Phantom would still come out to help if his ghostly rogues decided to show up and pester his new family or Lady Gotham needed help with something or when Lazarus Pits were involved. But this certainly did not include a situation like that.

Looking down at his gloved hands, Danny breathed out a sigh of relief, noting that he had gotten summoned as Phantom at least. Pretransfomred. Last time he got summoned and had appeared shortly as plain old Danny before changing into Phantom, Tim, as Red Robin of course, had gaslighted the cultists into believing they hallucinated seeing Daniel 'Danny' Fenton-Wayne for a brief moment. The press still had a field day with the nonsense the arrested cultist spouted.

At least now they wouldn't have to deal with another media drama that could result in Vlad trying to fight Bruce for custody again. Still, Danny frowned, they had summoned him right out of a late night baking session with Alfred and knowing his family the way he does now it was only a matter of time before they all stormed this place or at least some of them.

Bruce had put a tracker on him specifically for this kind of situation, aside from the fact that he was also still pestering the Justice League Dark to find a way to stop it from happening in the first place.

"You do realize that you are in deep shit right?" The occult leader looked at Danny for only a short moment before continuing his spiel about how with the power of the summoned they would lead the world back to the balance it's supposed to have and bla bla bla. Being the Ancient of Balance Danny never thought he would even get summoned, aren't cultists in books more interested in evil demons, masters of chaos, Cthulhu and so on?

Knocking with his fist against the barrier lightly, the halfa noted that he would probably be stuck in place until his family showed up to disturb the chalk writing on the floor. For a moment he wondered if he should attempt to break out but then remembered the lecture Bruce had made him sit through the first time he broke a magical barrier and got injured in the process. It was probably better to wait.

"You know the last time I got summoned out of family time, one of my brothers went apeshit on the cultists." Danny continued to interrupt the leader's speech, just to be a little shit. He needed to pass the time somehow. Plus he wasn't lying. He had gotten summoned right out of movie night with his siblings, it's no understatement to say that they were not amused. Jason was especially pissed for some reason. "And the time before that it was my younger brother, that was a whole lot more bloody but no one died anyway in the end.

"Silence spirit of balance, you will listen to me. I was the one that summoned you."

"Yea… buddy that's not how this whole summoning thing actually works. You read a couple of fictional books." Danny retorted until he saw what the leader pulled out and flinched back.

How was that possible? Danny was sure that after his parents death, Bruce had bought all the rights of Fenton Works, including the patents and put it all in Danny's name no matter how much some tried to fight it. If it wasn't willed to Danny then Bruce had bought it. They had stopped any production of his parents' inventions, they had forced the GIW to cough up all the inventions they bought and then disband the governmental organization through the Justice League.

Of course Danny had known that some of his parents inventions were still on the black market and then there were also Vlads inventions but, the cult leader was holding up a Fenton bracelet Danny had specifically created for his brother to help him control the corrupted ectoplasm in his system until his treatment with Frostbite was done. How was it possible for them to get a hold of it? No wait it looked slightly modified from the one he made for his brother.

"This will make you listen to me." Danny's eye widened as he noticed a shard of a very familiar red crystal embedded in the bracelet when the leader waved it around triumphantly at Danny's reaction. It wasn't enough to brainwash him by simply holding it to his face but if he made direct contact with it? Danny wasn't so sure.

"How did you get that!"

"Oh not so mouthy anymore are we?"

His core quivered and all his eyes could do was focus on the red shiny stone as flashback ran through his mind as he pressed as far away from the leader as he could. His back hit the other end of the barrier he was in and Danny contemplated breaking the barrier and high speed flying home to the Wayne manor even if it risked injury.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The calm but familiar voice broke Danny out of his panic as he saw a blade sneak around the leader's neck. Robin was standing right behind the man seemingly having appeared out of nowhere.

"Robin! B said to wait for his signal!" Another voice appeared and Danny heard the thud next to him with the flutter of a cape. Relieved, he turned his head ever so slightly to find Red Robin next to the barrier, looking unimpressed at the fact that Robin, from the looks of it, had run ahead of them once again.

Robin clicked his tongue and Danny finally relaxed enough to snicker at his siblings' banter. Before he could add in his own two cents to the banter a window crashed in and Red Hood added himself to the rescue party.

"Can't any of you follow a fucking plan?" The man announced his presence loudly while also landing boot first on some random cultist members. That instantly scattered, their stunned frozeness, caused by their leader getting held at blade point, broken now.

"You're one to talk. Since when do you simply follow B's plans anyway?" Red Robin huffed back, taking the bracelet from the leader as well as destroying the barrier seal with his boot by smudging the chalk writing.

"Point taken." The other answered as he started to knock out any cultist that was in his reach. Red Robin joined him once he gave Danny a look over and was certain that the barrier no longer existed.

Robin once more clicked his tongue causing Danny to look over, the leader now knocked out cold before his feed. "Phantom, you need to stop getting summoned by these incompetent…"

"Imbeciles!"

"Scoundrels!"

"Asshats!"

"Scum!"

"Fucktards!"

"Lunatics!"

"I do not require your input!" Robin shouted across the room at their older siblings that were currently giving the rest of the cult members the beat down of their life.

"Fruitloops?" Danny offered chuckling at the seething glare Robin directed at him for that and he lifted the palm of his hands in a sign of peace.

[brucewaynehater101]

So there's a fic that I think you will like. It's called The Definition of Valor by Nerdpoe. Really short, spoiler free summery. Instead of loosing his Spleen, Tim looses his eyes. He makes special gadgets to help him with this, such as a device in is cowl that scans the room he is in and tells him what is where via coded sounds, like say, two low A notes followed by a chirp means there is a wooden desk to the north east of him. He also makes a special computer program for his grapple so when he points it somewhere, it will adjust his aim so he never misses and always attaches to a good spot.

This fic is giving me *so many* thoughts about the potential fall out of this being found out not as soon as Tim gets back to Gothem because he never tells anyone. Specifically it's making me think about Tim who is Bruce's dad not telling Bruce because he doesn't want to worry his son. He doesn't want to worry his grandchildren/siblings either so he puts in colored contacts and wears glasses when his cowl isn't on. The glasses and an ear piece have the same tech as his cowl to tell him where everything is.

How long would it take them to find out? Tim would never tell them, so do they find out on accident because Tim forgot the contacts that are his normal eye color, or because Ras is mad at Tim and tells them what Ras did to Tim? Maybe he got to mad and while ranting at a Rouge (either Harley or Two Face would be especially funny if he's just been hanging upside down and ranting and raving fo 30 minuets already) over one of their traps, he accidentally lets slip that he's blind, or maybe he yells at Riddler, "Nygma, this isn't fair! I've been completely blind since last July and my usual tech that tells me what's around me is getting fucked by your signal jammer! So either read the riddle to me out loud or let me go!" and then later Riddler scolds one of the other Bats for letting the blind one do the visual puzzles much to their confusion.

Hi!!! I love that fic so much! Have you seen the sequel for it as well? It's short, but a great read. I would die for more of this concept.

In that fic, Bruce turns out to be a good dad. While I may hate Bruce, the way that guy handles the situation in that fic is fantastic.

However, I would like a fic where this concept gets a delayed reveal. In the AU, Tim figures out how to function without his eyes.

He engineers technology to read people's facial expression/body language to help him out. It reads words for him, etc.

I wonder what excuse he'd give for wearing the earpiece and glasses all the time. Maybe he says it's another aspect to separate Timothy Drake from Red Robin?

Just Tim gaslighting and girlbossing his way into pretending he can still see. I kind of want him to keep up the ruse for a long while.

When he does get found it, it'd be hilarious if the others forget he's blind. Tim has engineered technology to assist him, but he still can't see. So they'll try to take him to activities they did together when he could see (like star gazing) or they'll ask him what he thinks of the color of their outfit. He also ruthlessly uses his blindness as an excuse to mess with people. If Timothy Drake-Wayne is known to be blind, he'll use it to accuse Luthor of being ableist at every chance he'll get. He also bullies the shit out of governmental agents and companies that don't provide accommodations.

I'm also a fan of Riddler finding out about it, but him just changing his puzzles to be accommodating. I'm biased towards Riddler (I love him so much) so it'd be cool to see the silent show of support like that.

Another AU idea: When Tim blows up Ra's bases, the explosions cause him to become deaf or hard-of-hearing.

Dealer's choice on how much hearing he loses, but I feel like this could be great to explore deafness and misconceptions commonly held in our society.

Tim would probably already know how to sign and lip read (might even know multiple different sign languages), but he would face a few difficulties.

He chooses not to disclose his hearing loss

People often cover their mouths or face away from someone when speaking (which makes lip reading arduous)

Ableist people suck

The world is set up for hearing people, so a lot of issues stem from a lack of accommodations rather than Tim's ability to hear

Tim chose not to tell anyone about the change in hearing for a few reasons: he doesn't trust anyone (especially during his adjustment period) and he doesn't want to be underestimated (wants to prove himself in the field before they try to pull him from it).

As far as technology to help him, the comms were easier to program than other auditory inputs. Since they were designed to transmit clear voices, he merely has to train a program to automatically close caption whatever is spoken (the automatic ones used today are useful, but still make too many errors for Tim's preference. Some also only do words automatically and leave out helpful information like laughing, choking, screaming, computer dings, etc.). Each Bat member has their own designated color. For those he doesn't interact with often, it says their name before every time they speak up.

Tim incorporates the visual overlay into his goggles and glasses. He can read what people contribute to the conversation based on that. It also leaves his hands free so he doesn't need to look down. His wrist computer stores records of what has been said so Tim can go back over it if he misses it. He also has the ability to change where the words appear on his field of vision.

I also hc Alfred is the first to notice that Tim is staring intently at his lips when he talks and has difficulties with the conversation when Alfred changes the way he pronounces words or isn't facing Tim (this is before Tim's tech gets perfected). From then on, Alfred makes a point of facing Tim whenever the teen is in the room. They both don't talk about it until the rest of the family finds out (however long that takes).

Feel free to add more to either AU!

[darlingdarkly]

New Year, New You Part 8

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Personal Trainer AU

9k words

CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, gaslighting

Part 1, 7, 9

You grill him with questions, demanding him to explain to you what he’s talking about. It seems obvious to you that he knows something he’s not letting on. The words fly from your mouth in a panic. “What do you mean it’s not safe? What are you talking about, Johnny? Explain!”

You see him get a little heated, a reaction you hadn’t expected, in fact the whole exchange following your inquisitions is so out of left field that it renders you speechless.

“Obviously hen, ye were a victim of a crime last night. Do ye nae see that?” You hadn’t seen that, it was so hard to remember anything about last night that drawing any kind of conclusion had so far been beyond you.

He sees it starting to click and continues, striking while the irons hot. “How many times in the past have ye gotten black out drunk, bonnie?” You have certainly had your fair share of ragers but black out drunk? To the point of almost total memory loss? Never.

“Did ye really think wakin’ up an’ nae bein’ able tae remember a damn thing was normal? Open yer eyes, lass.” He did this so well it seemed, had a way of breaking you down and making you feel small just to build you back up how he saw fit, cutting through the walls and all the bullshit to speak directly to you in a way no one before him had. It was humiliating and liberating all at once.

He sees he’s made his point. “Ah’m nae kiddin’, lass. I think ye were drugged las’ night an’ ah’d say yer awful lucky ah showed up when ah did.” His voice had taken on a kind of verbal growl, Scottish accent deepening so that it was almost hard to understand. He seemed genuinely upset, more than you could seem to get even though you were the victim, but you could feel it settling into your bones now, the unease.

Your face must be a mask of your emotions because he starts to calm now that he feels he's gotten through to you and he takes your hand into both of his. “Ye need tae understand somethin’, hen.” He seems to be mulling over the words in his head, unsure of the next thing to say. “I care about ye, I want ye tae be safe an’ happy an’ I think ye should stay with me. It’s nae safe fer ye tae be livin’ on yer own.”

You feel a bit surprised at his candidness, a show of emotions you hadn’t expected and it sends a hot flare up from your stomach and heats your cheeks. “Johnny I can’t stay.” He forces his gaze to yours, holds you hostage with it. “Why nae?”

That’s a good question, one you didn’t have an answer for. Why couldn’t you stay with him? Would it really be so bad? You’d been living on your own for so long maybe you were afraid of that change.

You opened your mouth to answer but he stopped you before you could. “Jus’ think about it. I’ll ask ye again tonight an’ if ye dinnae want tae, ah willnae make ye.” He closed it with that, getting up off the bed to signal the talk was over. “Come on, time fer yer warm up.”

After changing, you followed him out the door and into unfamiliar territory, the rest of the house you’ve yet to see. He leads you into an open living area that blended into a nice big kitchen. The house looked like it could house a whole family let alone just the two of you. You followed as your head craned and took it all in. The rent must have been astronomical but it was still Johnny’s house and he didn’t bother with extravagancies. It was spacious but also sparsely decorated making it look huge in perspective.

You cut through the space and into another room. You hadn’t really expected him to have a personal home gym, since he worked at one you naturally assumed he’d just go to work to exercise. The middle of the room was empty and matted, heavy duty, black pads interlocked like puzzle pieces made a twelve by twelve square in the center. The walls of the room were lined with full weight racks, adjustable benches, a treadmill and a power tower.

He stops in the middle of the black square and motions for you to sit. You sit, criss cross applesauce, across from him and he motions for you to begin. You start to go through your warm ups, starting with your sit-ups. He holds your feet and keeps count for you, his grin widening as you progressed.

Today was different and in more ways than one, when you’d finished he had you sit up and hold his feet, meaning for this to be a joint session for the both of you instead of just one sided as it normally was. You had to sit with your knees on the toes of his feet to keep him weighted down and he went for three reps of twenty instead of ten. You could feel the strength he possessed, the power held in the corded muscles of his thighs and calves by just holding him down.

You moved through the first set and into the next, keeping count of his push ups and even clumsily crawling up on his back when he insisted on needing your added weight. While it’d only really been a week since you’d stopped, you found that you’d come to miss this. Partly the healthy routine you’d built with him and partly his presence itself. Slipping back into it was not only easy but welcoming and this new way of having him doing it right along with you was something you secretly found yourself falling in love with.

You practically floated through your warm ups, hardly feeling the burn of them. You sat on the mat with your legs stretched out in front of you in a V. Without any assistance from him you managed a full, complete split and you couldn’t quite hide the elation you felt when his eyes lit up and praise poured from his lips.

Limber and pliant you both rose up from the mat and he walked you over to the power tower, standing out from you as you positioned yourself underneath the pull up bar. You jumped and grabbed ahold of the cool metal. You began, pulling yourself up until your chin passed the bar and then dropping down again.

It was hard but you were determined to finish, huffing and puffing by the last rep but still able to pull yourself past the point without stopping. You caught your breath as he muscled through his. You had long recovered when he finally jumped down, making your measly three look like light work as he managed a solid fifteen before finally coming to a halt.

You knew the next portion was the treadmill but as you made to mount it he stopped you. “Let’s go fer a real run, what dae ye think?” You stopped to consider it. You’d always wanted to go for a real jog, much preferring the open air of outside to the confines of an automated conveyor belt but had been much too scared to attempt such a thing on your own.

You’d always heard stories of women going out on jogs and simply never returning, their bodies found weeks later floating in rivers or lying in ditches. As alluring as the idea was your fears had always kept you inside but with a man like Johnny by your side you could pretty much garuntee total safety.

The prospect of finally getting to do as you pleased excited you and you found yourself chomping at the bit to go. He grabbed his house keys and escorted you to the door, locking it tight behind him and stepping up beside you on the sidewalk. “Are ye ready?”

You smiled at him and nodded, it must have been contagious because one of his own sprung up on his face, lighting it up and making his blue eyes sparkle in the sun.

“There’s a park just doon the way. We’ll head there, do a lap an’ loop back.” You started at a light jog and was pleasantly surprised to see him keep the pace you’d set. You were a bit worried you’d be struggling to match him the whole way, although he did talk most of the way while you struggled to manage anything more than one word replies.

It was a beautiful day, the weather was mild and there was a cool breeze at your back like gentle fingers prodding you encouragingly along. You were suddenly glad for this strange turn of events, as troubling as it seemed at first. Feeling down all last week and then reluctant to go out with Nancy, the anxiety you’d felt in the drive to the club and then somehow ending up in Johnny’s bed the next morning.

Somehow even unable to remember any of the events from the night before, something that, in all reality should leave you mortified and sick left you only feeling a strange sense of calm, like in the end it had all worked out how it was meant to be. You found yourself thinking about this morning and how he’d been almost mad at you for not being more concerned about last night, but you just couldn’t feel it.

There was eventually an underlying sense of unease that he’d practically forced onto you but it was only fleeting, like someone who’s fallen asleep at the wheel only to wake up in the hospital and be informed that you were lucky to be alive. It was hard to understand the reality of your danger when you’d walked away unscathed and without really having experienced it.

Maybe it was shell shock and you just weren’t completely grasping the reality of the situation but you weren’t holding your breath, and as far as taking him up on his offer you just weren’t all that convinced. While it was, admittedly, a problem that you’d drank too much and been unable to make it home last night, you failed to see any real danger in living by yourself.

You’d been doing fine thus far and didn’t see why that should have reason to change. You decided then that you’d made up your mind, you’d spend the day with Johnny, as gratitude for taking such good care of you in a time of need and just to enjoy it as well, it was only early in the afternoon but it was turning out to be a pretty good day in your book. You’d tell him later on when he asked that there really was no reason for you to stay with him. He’d understand, you were sure.

“Lass?” You were pulled away from your thoughts and back to the present. “Hmm?”

“I said what do ye think about havin’ fer dinner. I make an ossobuco that’ll bring ye tae tears.” You had no idea what that was but just expressed your interest anyway as you turned off of the sidewalk and into the entrance to the park.

It was one you recognized, beautfiully landscaped and as old as the hills, this park had been around for as long as you could remember, although it’d been ages since you’d been. They’d updated the playground and had redone the bridge over the pond, there was a flock of geese preening themselves on the surface of the dark, calm water.

You came to a stop at the peak of the bridge, glancing down at your Fitbit and checking your pulse. Johnny leaned his forearms onto the railing and leaned down for a look into the pond as you both caught your breath. He broke the peaceful silence that had settled between the two of you.

“I brought me mum here once. She used tae love feedin’ the swans at the pond near our house when I was wee. Used tae take me over there on our morning walks and I used tae make her laugh tryin’ tae catch one. Ah’ve taken more than one swan nip tae the arse as a lad.” You couldn’t help but laugh imagining him chasing the birds that probably matched him in size as a kid and then laughed some more as you imagined them chasing him, angry and nipping at his heels.

He laughed with you and as you nestled in next to him to stare out on the pond, just as the fit settled he leaned in close, nudged up against your side. “Ye’ll meet her if ye stay long enough ye know. She’d love ye.”

You felt a pang of uncomfortable awkwardness as he brought up the idea of you staying again. You didn’t want to dissapoint him by ruining the moment but you didn’t want to lead him on either. “Johnny…”

He stopped you. “Nae. Dinnae say anything yet. Ah was jus’ sayin’.”

You fell back into silence, a much more uncomfortable one this time but he wouldn’t let it set in as he pushed you back into a jog and lead you over the end of the bridge. It looped back around to where you’d started and it was only a quick jog back to his place where you ended your session for the day.

You both go inside and head for the kitchen, he pulls a blender hidden in a cabinet and sets it up on the counter before pulling out a litany of fruits along with a knife and small cutting board. He chops as he talks, going over your progress and performance, comparing it to your starting time and pace and mooning over the results.

He stops talking as he dumps the fruit into the blender and turns it on, the concoction inside swirling into a deep green slurry. When it’s homogenous he stops and pulls two glasses from a different cupboard. The juice makes a wet plop as it fills the glass and he slides one your way after sticking a bright orange straw down into its depths.

You pull it in front of you and take a long sip, confident in his smoothie skills at this point and relish in the way the sweet cool drink slides over your tongue and down your throat, already working to rejuvenate you.

He downs his quickly, an amazing feat that would surely leave you numb with brain freeze. Setting the glass down in the sink he rounds the counter to you. “I’m goin’ tae take a quick shower and then it’s yer turn.” He slides up close, lean chest pressing into your back and placing a kiss on the back of your neck that sent chills down your spine. “Unless ye want tae join me, that is.”

You do want to, nothing sounds better but you’re still tired from your session and you’ve experienced Johnny in his fulty, intense and unrelenting. If you went at it now you may never recover so you decline, opting to finish your drink and wait your turn. He leaves you and you turn on the stool to take in the decor. The little there is of it seems to be concentrated on a shelf in the corner.

You hop off the stool and walk tentatively over to it, surveying the shelves. There’s a few trophies, the plaques on each read that they’re awarded from some gym for a weightlifting competition. His name and the years were engraved in the middle of the plaque, he’d won them three years consecutively.

The other shelves were adorned with photographs. You glanced at them one by one, picking out Johnny’s radiant smile in each. Here’s one with him on the bank of a river, huddled together with a bunch of people all wearing the same bright orange helmets and yellow vests in varying states of soaked, they’re all holding short stubby oars and smiling.

The next one is a much larger group of people, they’re all different ages but share similar qualities, their eyes and noses on different faces but seem to be shaped from the same clay by the same hands. They’re assembled in front of a sign that reads “MacTavish Family Reunion” and it takes you a moment to pick out Johnny from the crowd of baby blues and deep rich browns. You finally spot him clustered in the back with two other young men hanging off of his shoulders. They look like three of a rambunctious kind.

Beside that is Johnny in a long black robe and mortarboard, from the cap dangles a dark green tassel that hangs in the poofy frizz of long dark brown curls belonging to a shorter stout woman. Her eyes are so bright and shockingly blue they couldn’t belong to anyone other than Johnny’s mother. She looks soft and sweet but strong as she beams at the camera. Her face exudes nothing but pride and adoration for her son. Johnny looks young and happy, his eyes reflect the yet untapped potential of the start of his adult life.

“That’s mah mum an’ I at mah graduation.” His sudden presence startles you and you’re glad to have only been leaning in to observe the photographs instead of holding them, you’re certain you would have dropped them had it been the case.

“Jesus, Johnny. You scared me.” He smiles, a deep grin that you can tell he’s a bit satisfied to have been able to give you a start, despite his following apology. “Sorry lass, Dinnae mean tae make ye jump.”

There’s a small span of awkward silence and to cease it you ask him about the first picture, the one by the river.

He lets out a small hearty laugh and reaches past you to lift the frame off the shelf, bringing it closer like having it here in his hands will give him a better feel for the memories they contain.

“Ah used tae go white water raftin’ all the time. This was a group I joined when ah started. We had just cleared a class four river fer tha first time.” You smile as he reminisces, telling just by his eyes that he’s reliving it a little as he talks.

“Do you still do it? River raft?” He shakes his head and places the picture back on the shelf where it had been. “Nae anymore. Too dangerous.”

He sighs a little, the golden memory disappearing and perhaps leaving a plume of mild gloom in its place but if it had affected him too badly it didn’t show, as his ever radiant smile resurfaced like it’d never retreated.

“Yer turn, hen. The bathrooms in mah room it’s the far door on the left.” You make your way back towards his bedroom as he stations himself behind the sink and busies himself with the dishes.

You pick through the bag on the bed, hem hawing over what to wear when you just decide to bring the whole bag with you into the bathroom. You turn on the shower and let it warm as you retrieve your soap, shampoo and conditioner.

After quickly undressing you step into the warm jet and let it soak into your skin. There was a lot to think about and showers had always seemed like the best time to ponder things. You’re still, even now, in awe at just how things had turned in the past day. You certainly didn’t believe you’d be showering at his place at this time the day before. You poured some body wash into your palm, lathering it as you ruminated.

And then there was his offer, so out of the blue and generous of him. To stay at his place with him and for what? Why? Because you’d drank a little too much the night before and just couldn’t recall any of it? While it’d never been the case for you before now didn’t mean it was impossible for you to become black out drunk. It wasn’t an impossibility, you’d read somewhere that the body's chemical makeup changes roughly every seven years. People all the time grow out of and even develop new allergies as their life progressed. Meaning it was completely possible for your reactions to an influx of alcohol to change over time.

At least, that’s how you justified it to yourself as you rinsed the suds from your skin and began to wash your hair. It just didn’t make sense to jump to conclusions so hastily. And stay for how long? Certainly he didn’t mean to tell you that you were welcome to move in indefinitely. You don’t just extend that kind of an offer to someone like that, he barely knew you. Or did he?

It didn’t matter. For now you just couldn’t bring yourself to impose upon him like that, even if he did offer it up so willingly and insistent. After dinner, you’d gently and politely refuse. He did after all say he wouldn’t make you if you didn’t want to.

You rinse off and turn off the stream, letting most of the water drip off you before stepping out and wrapping yourself in a warm, fluffy towel from the rack. You finally pick out an outfit and stick with it, pulling it on and cleaning up after yourself as you finished, you’d rather not leave a mess for him to contend with later on top of everything he’d already done for you.

You close the door to his bedroom behind you as you step out into the open living room. You had expected him to be unwinding on the couch but instead he was up and pulling on jacket, he had his shoes on and keys in hand. As he spotted you he smiled and stepped towards you.

“Ah need a few things from the store fer dinner. Will ye join me fer a ride?” You smile and nod, turning back towards the room to put on some shoes and retrieve your phone and wallet before joining him to leave. It’s a short walk through the front entrance of his home to the garage. It’s barren save for a big red toolbox and a few boxes stacked in a far corner. His truck takes up the majority of the space, a fairly new dark blue Toyota Tundra. Totally on brand for him, clean and gleaming under the fluorescent lights overhead. He pulls open the passenger side door for you to climb in, which flusters you a bit.

You scurry to climb into it and sit back into the comfy seat as he shuts your door and rounds the vehicle to climb in on his side.

You ride in comfortable silence as he drives you a few blocks down the road to the little grocery mart you’d been to on occasion when you were in need of something on this side of town. He parks and you’re glad to scoot out of the door and join him before he has time to come around and open the door for you again. The chivalry was nice but always managed to make you feel awkward instead of special.

You’re taken by surprise as he takes your hand in his and both make your way towards the entrance. The warmth of his hand envelops yours, his thumb draws lazy, soothing circles on the back of your hand and the flustered feeling you’d been feeling, a combination of the new experience of being seen with him in public and him being so gentlemanly, eases.

You walk side by side out of the car park and into the brightly lit store. He picks up one of the little baskets from a metal cage and begins veering towards the back of the store. He seems to know exactly what he needs and where it all is so you just lose yourself a bit in the moment, looking at things on the shelves and watching him as he shops.

Normally when you shop by yourself it’s a race. A race to get everything you need and get out as fast as humanly possible, it’s something about being out in public for too long that makes your skin crawl. But this. This is different. Something about being with Johnny puts you at an inexplicable ease. He’s confident and knowledgeable, and for once you don’t feel like your mind is moving a million miles a minute under the scrutiny of every other set of eyes in the building. You can just simply relax and be, let him take over.

In produce you watch him pick up three different onions that, to you, look no different but he rolls them in the palm of his hand and gives them each a light toss in the air. Somehow— that decides it and he puts two of them back and places the chosen one down in the basket.

Every time he lets go of your hand for something you’re sure that’s the end of it, just knowing the moment will be lost but he surprises you each time anew when he comes back to you and takes it again, leading you through the sections hand in hand.

You stop in the spirits aisle and grimace as he picks up a bottle of dry red wine. The front is embossed with a duck in a yellow slicker, an umbrella cocked jauntily and tucked securely under one white wing, shielding him from a shower of rain falling from a single dark cloud that looms over its head. In a bright gold scroll underneath this curious image are the words “Rain Duck”. The image is very reminiscent of the Morton salt girl you’d always seen in the spice cabinet of your childhood home.

He looks over and catches your look of disgust and laughs, a hearty cheerful sound that momentarily wipes the scowl from your face and threatens to send you into your own fit of meek giggles. “Dinnae worry hen, s’just fer the sauce. Will nae even taste it, ah promise.”

He sets it down in the basket and heads towards the front of the store to checkout. You stand in line and wait your turn until the cashier clears the person in front of you and Johnny begins to empty his basket onto the conveyor belt one item at a time.

By the time he’d finished, the cashier, a tall skinny man with dark rimmed glasses had already begun to ring you up and Johnny suddenly smacks the palm of his hand to his forehead. “Ahhhh shite. Ah forgot somethin’. Stay here with the groceries bonnie, I’ll be right back.”

He takes off in a power walk towards the back of the store and disappears around a shelf. You rock back and forth on your feet and pray that by the time the cashier is done Johnny will be back. You know if he’s not you’ll cave to the pressure of the people behind you and end up paying for everything yourself, just so you don’t hold the line.

You crane over the partitions of shelves that mark the separate checkout lanes in search of Johnny but your attention is redirected when the cashier clears his throat and calls out to you to get your attention. “Excuse me, miss.”

You turn, dreading the worst but there’s still a good amount of items left unscanned and he’s got the bottle of Rain Duck held past the scanner, looking to you attentively.

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize he only needs your ID to finish ringing up the wine. You pull your wallet from your purse and the relief you had felt instantly dissipates. The pleasantly relaxed state you’d been lulled into suddenly felt like the calm prelude to a horrifying nightmare. The clear plastic pane that normally covered your horrible ID photo was empty. You tipped it open, hoping for some horrible trick of the light or optical illusion but the sleeve was empty.

You quickly shuffled through the individual card sleeves, hoping against hope that you’d somehow slipped it into one of them by mistake but it wasn’t there. Your ID was missing. The panic sets in the pit of your stomach like a lead ball as Johnny squeezes up behind you holding a carton of heavy cream. His smile disappears when he sees your face.

He quickly sets the heavy cream down on the belt and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Bonnie, what is it? What’s wrong?”

The cashier calls out to him impatiently. “Sir?” Johnny looks up at him, with death glaring from his eyes before turning back to you. “Come on, lass. What’s the matter?” You whisper because it’s all you can muster, your vocal cords withered to nothing in fright.

“My ID. It’s gone.” The cashier tried again to get Johnny’s attention and you barely hear Johnny as he speaks very low and angrily at the man behind the counter. Johnny must have done as he asked though because soon enough you feel Johnny’s arms gently pulling you towards the exit. It makes you snap out of your horror for a moment and offer to help carry the bags back to his truck but he’s having none of it, insisting on carrying the whole load in two huge armloads all the way back himself.

You slip into the passenger seat as he puts the groceries in the back and only look up from staring at the lines in your denim jeans when the driver side door shuts and the cab is silent for a moment. He’s looking at you, very concerned and you realize he’s waiting for you to explain in more detail.

“My ID is gone. Completely gone.” He seems to think for a moment before he responds and asks if you’d checked your purse. You quickly do as he’d suggested and go through it but it’s not there either and the momentary hope you’d felt at his suggestion died almost as soon as it’d been born.

“Maybe I dropped it at the club.” A smile begins to form on your face as you grasp at anything other than the truth. “That’s it Johnny! We’ve gotta go back to the club. They’ll have found it cleaning up! And we can go get it and everything’s fine!” He doesn’t look convinced as you look over to him for validation.

“Lass, be honest with yerself fer a moment. How often do ye take yer ID out of yer wallet when ye need it?” Your smile began to fade, he was right. Anytime you needed it you just opened it and flashed it without ever taking it out of the slot, you’d bought that wallet specifically for that feature because you were so worried about losing it.

“I ken ye didnae want tae believe what happened tae ye, but there’s no denyin’ it now. Someone targeted ye last night. Picked ye out of the crowd and drugged yer drink when ye werenae lookin’ an’ they took yer ID in case they couldnae seal the deal right away. He’s got yer address an’ yer name an’ even yer picture.”

You listen to him talk as the cold, cruel hand of reality closes around your throat and the disgust of being violated in such a thorough way begins to worm its way under your skin. You can feel Johnny struggling to find words to comfort you from the seat next to you but he must not find any that are adequate because he starts the truck instead and drives you home in a silence that had on the way been comfortable and passive but now was pregnant with tension and doom.

You get back to his place and he unloads the truck as you sit inside and try not to panic at the situation you’ve found yourself in. You thank your lucky stars that Johnny had found you and brought you home now. If you’d somehow miraculously made it home without incident this mysterious man could have crept into your home while you were incapacitated and done any number of things to you. You imagined all the horrifying possibilities, each more daunting than the last as he unpacked and put everything away.

He must sense your spiraling thoughts because he calls you into the kitchen with him as he starts to cook. Chopping onions, heating shallow pools of oil in two different skillets, measuring out beef broth and flour and water in varying amounts as he practices the fine art of mise en place.

You try, really truly try not to let the fear of your predicament gnaw away at you too hard but it’s almost an act in futility. He looks up at you after cracking his third shot and missed joke while dredging the ox tails in flour and notices you staring down at your hands in deeply troubled thought.

He stops what he’s doing and comes over to the counter, bending down to lean over its sturdy surface and get your attention. You look up at him and feel your heart skip a little as he has no business being so damn attractive covered in flour like he is.

“Listen hen. I ken yer goin through it right now. Probably spooked right out of yer tree, but I promise ye yer in no danger here. I dare him tae walk through that door right now. I swear tae ye ill dismantle him with my flour covered hands before he even so much as touches a hair on yer bonnie head.”

You can’t help but smile as you imagine him wrecking your faceless oppressor, flour flying about in clouds as the impact of his blows knock it loose from his hands.

“There’s tha’ smile. Now be a doll an’ open mah wine fer me. I forgot before ah got all messy.”

You stand from your stool and open the drawer he directs you towards to locate the corkscrew. The rest of the preparation you do in a much better mood. While you had a brand new serious problem on your hands there was no need in sulking over it when there was nothing you could do at the moment and anytime spent with Johnny was hard not to enjoy.

He plated your portion and set you down across from him so he could watch your first bite. You wanted him to eat with you, a bit self conscious at him just watching you eat but he insisted he had to start on dessert before he could sit down to dinner.

You cut the big chunk of meat with your knife and fork and then dipped it down in the pool of sauce just as he’d instructed you to. He watched you intently as you brought the fork to your mouth and took your first bite.

Your eyes widen before half closing, you can’t help the soft moan that resounds as the tender meat and rich, savory sauce feel like they pull your taste buds into their arms and hug them soft and sweetly. It’s absolutely divine and you look up from your plate to see Johnny, smug as a bug grinning wolfily at your reactions.

“Told ye it’d bring ye tae tears.” You can’t even respond, just swallow and take another eager bite, this time with a little of the risotto from the bed that the meat is resting on. “Jesus Christ, Johnny. Where in the fuck did you learn to cook like this?”

His grin is so wide you’re worried it’ll be stuck that way and to your amusement you can tell his cheeks have reddened even under his nice, even tan. “Yer makin’ me blush, hen. S’just what ah’ve picked up along tha way. Ye could do it too. I could teach ye.”

You nod enthusiastically, you’d like that very much and you have a feeling so would he. You really dig into your meal in earnest as he works. His back is to you as he prepares dessert on the stove and you wonder just what it might be. Steam rises up in thin streams as he pours something into two ramekins and sticks them in the oven.

By the time you’re done he’s cracking into his own dinner as you begin working on the dishes. He protests but you stay firm that if he cooked the absolute least you could do was help clean up. He finally relented and let you work as he ate as quickly as he could so he could help dry the dishes at least.

By the time everything was done so was the dessert and he pulled it from the oven to cool as he leaned over the counter and held your gaze raptly with his. “It’s time, lass. What have ye decided?”

But with the way he’s staring you down it feels like he’s on the edge of his seat. Those blue eyes piercing yours and you know every second you don’t answer is killing him, you can read it all over his face so even though you’d made your mind up you told him you weren’t sure.

He looked a bit dejected but it wasn’t the broken disappointment you knew you’d have been graced with if you’d downright shut his proposition down. His eyes light up suddenly in a way you hadn’t been expecting like he’d just had the idea of a century.

“Play a game with me, lass.” You regarded him distrustfully. “What kind of game, Johnny?”

“I’ll show ye, come on.” You follow after him into the bedroom, a bit wary. He stops in front of the pull up bar and turns back towards you.

“Johnny you and I both know there’s no way I’m besting you in a pull up contest, I’d be mental to even try. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Ohhh no, hen. Nothing like tha’, yer right t’wouldnae be fair. All I want ye tae do is hang from the bar. Can ye do that?”

You jump up and grab the bar to see if you’ve got the right idea and he smiles and nods. “Jus’ like that, all ye’ve gotta do is not let go. Think ye can handle it?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” You felt like there was something hidden in this that he wasn’t revealing and you weren’t wrong.

“Well it would nae be a game if there was nae some kind of a catch now would it, hen?” You swallow hard and watch him saddle closer, pinning you back into the cool metal bars.

“Ye’ve got tae hold yerself up until ye come.” His smirk widens as your mouth drops open a little, at first for some kind of rebuttal but you can’t come up with anything to say so it just hangs open as your mind blanks.

You finally get a grip enough to ask him to explain. “Well, yer goin’ tae hang onto tha bar an’ ah’m goin’ tae try mah hardest tae make ye come. If ye can hold onto it just until then, then you win but if ye cannae do it, an’ ye let go then I win.”

You mull over his terms and he just leans back a bit and lets you, waiting for your answer. Instead of giving him one you inquire further. “What do I get if I win?”

His answer is another simple question. “What do ye want?” A simple question that was complicated to find an answer for. What did you want from him? After a moment's thought you answered. “I want you to tell me everything you remember about last night and I want you to help me find this guy that did this to me. I don’t want to live in fear like this. You take me up to the club and we ask if they found my ID and if not then we ask to see the video footage of that night.”

“Hen, there’s no garuntee—“ You stop him. “I know. Just promise me if I win you’ll help me.” He looks a bit troubled, like he hadn’t meant for this to take this kind of turn and you wonder for a moment if he’ll back out.

“If I win ye have tae tell me the real reason ye never came back to the gym an’ never texted me an’ just disappeared.” You go to answer when he adds. “And ye stay.”

You sort of knew he was going to play that and even though you’d anticipated it, it still manages to fluster you hearing it.

You think about it real hard, just being around him had you more or less worked up all day, you were fairly confident that you could come quickly, even now just having discussed the game with him you knew your panties were damp. But could you hold yourself up for that length of time?

Reluctantly, you accepted. You even felt sure enough to jest him a bit about how easy of a win this would be for you, it was a decision you came to regret as he leaned in close to your ear and whispered. “Ah’m goin’ tae make ye eat those words, hen.”

A shudder of anticipation passed through you as he kissed you on your neck, just below your ear with a pass of his velvet soft tongue, giving you a little taste of what was to come.

The game had apparently begun as he stooped down to help shed you of your jeans, pulling them down and kissing the skin revealed as he exposed it. Next came your panties and they were damp, a fact that tore a rumble of approval from his chest but he wouldn’t touch you yet.

“Cannae give ye too much of a head start now can we?” He patted the side of your thigh curtly. “Up up.”

You do as he says and it’s a little late to be self conscious now but you can’t help it as you dangle from the metal rod and he spreads your thighs so you’re open to him. You worry he’s going to cheat you a bit as he stares at your bare pussy and you begin to complain when it dies in your throat as his tongue licks a broad stripe up the length of your slit. “Shit!”

He chuckles a little and dives in, resting his hands in the crooks of your knees but offering no support as he begins to eat you out in earnest. You can’t help but moan, your eyes glossy and unfocused as you stare down at him feasting on you from below. It feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced, the strain in your arms adding an element of pain that scratches a hidden itch in the back of your brain.

You shift in his hold uncomfortably as his tongue darts into your entrance, collecting your juices on his tongue and drinking them down. You want, so desperately, to be able to grip him by the Mohawk and hold onto him for dear life but you can’t so you squeeze the bar in your grip and sweetly moan his name instead.

His tongue finds your clit and it just about throws you over the edge but proves to be not quite enough as you chase it in hopes of victory. His hands squeeze and grope the flesh of your thighs and ass as he eats. You thought at the start of this that you would have had this in the bag but the stretch of your arms was outweighing the pull of your pleasure.

It wasn’t for a lack of Johnny’s enthusiasm, his head stayed buried in the heat of your pussy the whole time as he drove you towards the edge as quickly and efficiently as possible. Despite the burn in your biceps you could feel your orgasm building to a boiling point, you had no doubt you’d be coming soon but would it be soon enough for you to win?

He suddenly began to run quick sharp circles over the top of your clit with the pad of his thumb, while his tongue laps at your entrance like a bear to a beehive hole. It’s so good you can’t help but moan, low and dragging as you careen towards the center of the nova of pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

Your wrists tremble and a cramp unlike any you’ve ever experienced begins to glow like a white hot coal in your armpit and it’s beyond you to be able to hold on any longer. Your pinky finger slips first and then the rest quickly follow. You squeal as you realize you’re going to fall but his arms push your legs up onto his shoulders and he catches you just as you let go.

A flood of relief flows through your aching arms and you realize you’ve lost but the sting of defeat plays second fiddle to the massive orgasm that takes you by the throat just an instant later. He holds you up with the strength in his arms alone as you come undone above him. He spins around as your thighs still tremble and gently places you on the bed.

You are still very sensitive and your thighs go to clench shut when they’re blocked by one wide knee. He wastes no time in slotting himself between them, his mouth crashing to yours as you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He cages you beneath him, pulling off your lips to bite and suck at your neck. His hands roam you freely, pulling at your top until it’s up over your head and lifting you up for access to the clasp of your bra.

With it successfully pulled away from your breasts he dives down and devours them, lips wrapping around one pert nipple as the other he gropes with the full palm of his hand, trying to hold as much of it as possible. You nearly shriek with the overstimulation of it and he pulls away to whisper both praise and apologies.

“Jus’ cannae help it, bonnie. Need tae be inside you, please? Let me fuck you, hen. Been cravin’ tha’ perfect little pussy. Come on, lass. Give it tae me.” He’s rubbing the very prominent bulge of his cock against your thigh all the while and you can’t help but clench around nothing in anticipation.

“Fuck Johnny! Do it! Fill me up.” He wastes no time, quickly abandoning your breasts to free himself from the confinements of his jeans. He doesn’t even get them down all the way before he’s fishing himself from his boxers and rubbing the tip hurriedly up and down your slit. You jump and squeal at the sensation and he coos more apologies at you before lining himself up and pushing inside.

You moan in unison as he stretches you open and his arms come up to brace himself on either side of your head. He muffles your moans with his mouth as he leans down and kisses you, swallowing them up as he begins to move and your hands fly to his arms, bracing yourself against the onslaught that is the drag of his fat cock.

You pull away for air and immediately expel it into a high pitched whine as he picks up a fast and steady rhythm, hips knocking into yours on each upward thrust. The fact that you've already came does nothing to alleviate the burn that accompanies the stretch of him. He’s a force and you can do nothing against it but hold on.

You try to make sense of what he’s saying as he fucks you stupid but only catch half of it. Something about keeping you safe forever. Poorly worded promises and vows pouring from his mouth as he uses you to reach his release.

You can feel it fast approaching and can do nothing but steel yourself against it as he pounds a second orgasm from you, the snap of his hips and the drive of his cock demands it of you. “Aww fuck, hen. Are ye gonna come fer me again? Hmm? Let me feel it. Come on lass, let me take care of ye forever. Ye can have this fer the rest of our lives if ye jus’ come fer me right now.”

He says it like you have a choice in the matter as you become locked in the throes of your ecstasy brought forth by his hand and in the midst of yours you vaguely feel him reach his. Coming hard and fast deep inside the tight clutch of your pussy.

It takes you both an eternity to recover and when he finally rolls off you, you realize you’d half fallen asleep, cradled safely under him, worn out and sated.

After a moment he gets up and leaves the room and he’s gone forever to the point where you almost get up to go after him but he comes back in with two small white dishes in hand along with two spoons.

You sit up on one elbow as he hands you one and the accompanying silverware. Looking down at it you can see a dark golden brown crust, a glassy glaze over the surface but are otherwise clueless as to what’s before you. You watch him experimentally as he takes the handle of the spoon in between his thumb and index finger and brings the bowl of the spoon down on top of the crust with an audible smack. The crust breaks and there’s a jiggly dense cream beneath.

Following suit, you bring your spoon down onto yours and scoop up a glob of the pale white gelatin. You take a bite and smile as the cool, sweet cream melts over your tongue. You sit there with him, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and eating crème brûlée.

It gets you thinking, you could have this indefinitely. Do this every night if you’d like and as if reading your thoughts he speaks.

“I won, but the choice is still yers. Stay with me, hen. Ah’ll keep ye safe. No worries, no lookin’ over yer shoulder forever or double checkin’ yer locks all yer life. Let me take care of ye. I want to, an tha’s honest.”

You stare at him, his blue eyes are soft and filled with adoration and honesty. He really wants you here with him and is that really so bad? How many times are you gonna pass up this opportunity before it’s gone? And will you be looking back later with regret once the door has closed?

You have to drop his gaze to decide but recapture it once you do. You go to tell him “Ok, but only until I’ve found a new place.” but he seizes you in his arms after the first word and pulls you hard against him like a five year old child handed a cat and told they can keep it.

“Johnny! You’re squishing me!” You complain but the sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant.

He does everything with you side by side for the rest of the night. He changes with you, he brushes his teeth with you, he even lingers around when you try to go to the bathroom before bed, it takes a good amount of effort on your part to make him leave the room but you know he’s stood just outside the cracked door that he neglects to close on the way out.

Climbing under the sheets with him you wonder just how sleeping together for the first night is gonna go, actually wondering if you’ll get any sleep at all but then he pulls you into his chest and to your surprise he doesn’t try anything sexual. He doesn’t rub a hard bulge against you or grope your tits. He just wants you close, his warm chest filling out the dip of your back, his legs entangle themselves with yours, his feet even nudge yours affectionately in lazy passes.

It’s a while before either of you speak and Johnny thought you’d been long asleep when you say “I can’t afford a membership.” There’s a pause in your words and just when he understands what you’re saying you say more. “That’s why I didn’t come back to the gym, I thought it’d be easier.. for both of us.. if I just disappeared.”

And there’s something about your honesty, the way you’d remembered and honored your whole end of the bargain, the candidness of revealing you struggled with the decision, the mild sleepy drag of your voice that’s barely audible in the darkness that pulls directly on his heart and he couldn’t articulate a response if he’d tried so he doesn’t.

Maybe you believe he’s asleep and maybe it’s better that way. But he’s not. A few moments later he hears your breathing even out and he knows from the previous night that you’re asleep. He lays awake long after that holding you.

He thinks about you and how he’d finally got you to see reason. He thinks about times when the outcome of a situation is more valuable and important— the greater good one might say, than the means it took to reach it. Omelets, for instance, constitute broken eggs.

It takes a certain amount of necessary malice for these things. An agent who realizes what’s at stake and what’s to gain, willing to act on these conditions and set them right, no matter the cost. And lastly, he thinks about your ID, sitting snuggly behind his in his wallet. Tomorrow after he drops you off at work he’ll dispose of it. Maybe burn it, maybe shred it, maybe tie it to a heavy rock and throw it off the bridge at the park, watch it sink into the murky, goose poop filled pond until it gets too deep to see.

No one will know. But Johnny will. Johnny will know that in the end, his end, it justified his means. You are safe and you are his and there is no means too heinous, no act too profound to reach it.

[mysinsforventi]

~💜~ If I'm your truth, can you be my lie? ~💜~

~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~

dom! Lyney x sub! f. reader

(reader ISN'T traveler!!)

+ 18 (minors DNI!!!) (all characters in this are adults!)

(This was written before 4.1 release! Characters are not canon! Just my AU!)

Warnings:

(THERE IS A LOT!!): not canon (ooc), a bit of arlecchino x lumine at the end (just minor) , angst, smut, dark themes, cursing, manipulation, gaslighting, pedophile noble man, drugging minors, kidnapping, trauma, death/ murder, lying , self hatred, betrayal, anxiety, depression, identity issues, anger issues, rough sex, nipple/clit clips, anal sex, vibrator, double penetration, master-kink, breeding, creampie, overstimulation, name-calling, discrimination, spanking, a bit voyeurism?, dirty talk, teasing, oral sex both, fingering, reader crying (out of pleasure), hickeys, bitemarks, possesive behavior, obsession, fatui lyney, bit yanderer lyney, (let me know if I forgot something!!)

About:

As lumine's & paimon's travel companien you had the luck of seeing a lot of things, meeting a lot of people. There was never a time you were not grateful for beeing so close with the legend traveler. That all changed after entering fontain. Fontain the nation of justice. It changed you forever. All because a special magican boy has his eyes on you. Showing a huge amount of interest in you.

Neither of you knew, you were all just puzzle pieces of a much bigger game. Well one person knew.. or is it all just a lie? Then what is the truth? Can you be HIS truth? After all he is YOUR lie. Will the traveler lose another important person or win another good friend? Who is the mastermind behind these events? Who is 'the knave' really? Who is betraying who?

Blinded by a lie you try to find the truth. What a great magic trick. Creating a lie for you. Actually you were blinded by the truth, trying to find a lie..

~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~

(I noted were the nsfw part starts and where it ends, because the ff is so long! ♡ )

(Another fanfic I'll go to hell for! I'm acutally very proud of this one lmao! Please enjoy~♡)

~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~

Fontain, the nation of justice. Lumine and paimon, your best friends and you just arrived here. You had overcome many difficulties since your first days in mondstadt. So you walked with confindence along the habor of fontain. Yet neither of you had any idea that this would be your last journey together. That the nation of justice would take something else from the traveler. The only hope, besides her good friend paimon, she still had left. What tragedy..

"I heard that here in fontain they use all kind of different machines!", paimon explained, floating infront of the both of you. You looked at the huge waterfall and smiled amazed, "What a sight!! Did you ever see something like this on your travels lumine?", you asked curiously, looking over at your friend. The traveler nodded her head as she smiled, "One time there was a huge waterfall that moved backwards. The people used to keep whales as their pets and ride on them~", lumine explained while giggeling to herself. "W-WHALES??", paimon asked shocked. You glared at lumine, "You are messing with me right?!", as you laughed. "What?! And paimon trusted you!!", your floating friend pouted, stumping her foot in the air. This made all of you laugh, "noo the betrayal!!~~", you added in a dramatic voice and laughed more.

After you calmed down you decided to talk to a girl looking into the water for a while. Scared she would jump in. "Are you alright?", paimon asked the girl. "Huh? Oh! Yes I'm fine, thanks for asking!", the girl said, continueing to stare into the water. "We don't mean to bother you it's just you looked worried so we wanted to ask if everything is okay?", paimon tried again. "Please don't jump! This might be weird coming from a stranger but it's not worth it!", you added, looking worried, mentally getting ready to jump in after her.

The girl finally turned around to you, "I wasn't going to jump. There is no reason to worry. I was just looking at a hill were my brother and I played as kids", she said, smiling a bit softly at you before going back to this emotionless expression of hers. Did she just smile? No you must be seeinh things, all this way through the dessert must've messed with your head.

"Well hello there, I don't think we had the pleasure of meeting yet? Are you lynettes new friends?", a boy, looking very much the same as the girl asked, walking towards us. "No we just wanted to ask if everything is okay and got to talking", you answered with a smile, "even tho we don't got what she was saying..", paimon added, lumine nodded with a gently smile. "Mhh I see thats odd. Usually lynette never talk much, especially not with strangers. The only one she ever talks is with me. I'm lyney and thats my sister lynette~", the boy, lyney said with a bright smile on his lips. "Nice to meet you lyney and lynette, I'm y/n, the travelers companien", you said, "paimon is paimon and thats the traveler", she smiles at the twins before us.

"Y/n what a magical name..", lyney laughed and looked in your eyes with a soft gaze. You smiled back and giggeld, "Thank you lyney, your name reminds me of sugar, it sounds sweet~". Lyney blushed at that and coughed. This made lynette laugh quietly. You giggled as lumine and paimon just hit their hand on their heads.

Back then you didn't even realise how much impact this moment had. This interaction between all of you. The soft gaze, the warm, charming smile, the sweet words leaving his mouth that lyney gave you. The caring looks, the short, happy smiles, the purring that lynette gave you. You had no idea what that would mean in the future..

"The opera house? Sure let's go there later I just have to take care of something here first", lyney said, looking at the traveler with a smile.

Would you look at that.. it's not the same smile he gives you. You never noticed... He always treats you different from the travler somehow?? Not that you were jelaous but you never noticed this fact about lyney. Does he do this with all people? You wondered.

You all walked towards the aquabus. It was such a nice view from up here. The aquabuses looked so cool. Music was ringing through some speakers. You listened to it as you sat on the aquabus, waiting for it to move. The song was an interesting one. Yet sadly you couldn't understand the whole lyrics of it. But it went something like this:

//

… I'm sorry that I did this

The blood is on my hands

I stare at my reflection

I don't know who I am

Practice my confession

In case I take the stand

I'll say I learned my lesson

I'll be a better man

… I'm packing up my things

And I'm wiping down the walls

I'm rinsing off my clothes

And I'm walking through the halls

I did it all for her

So I felt nothing at all

I don't know what she'll say

So I'll ask her when she calls.

//

"Do you like this song?", lyney sat down next to you, blocking your view of the speakers. A warm smile on his face. You nodded, "It sounded good. I just wished I could've understood the lyrics some more but it echeos here so much haha", you giggeled, looking at lyney. He laughed to and pulled a card from his sleeve only to show it to you, "Sometimes the deeper you look the less enjoyable something gets my dear. Try to enjoy the song for the melody not for it's meaning. Happiness suits you better then a confused stare~", with that the magican threw the card into the air only to make a rose appeare. "Look what I have here for you~ So that what was hiding in my hat~", lyney gave the rose to you and smiled.

You paused as your eyes widened. Thanks to your boyfriend lyney you knew all cards and what the meant. Back then you couldn't have noticed but now.. the card that he showed you was a reversed magican!  The reversed magician is a master of illusion. The magic that he performs is one of deception and trickery. You may be lured in by the showmanship of his arts, but behind that there may be an intention to manipulate for selfish gain...

Why did he show you this card? Has it something to do with the song you heard?

Looking at all the pictures of your photos together you still didn't think lyney was the murderer. Someone else must've framed him! You stood up as you walked outside of your teapot room, "lumine? I couldn't find anything either! I really don't think lyney would do such a thing you know!..", you sounded sad, upset. The traveler came to you to hug you, "We will prove your boyfriends innocence y/n! Don't worry okay?~", she smiled caressing your back. It has been almost 2 months since lyney and you were official dating. Yet it felt like two days since you two met. It is crazy. But you are so in love with him, your feelings for him were strong. So of course you would help him if he was accused of murder and had to stand trail! Lyney is a innocenct, good soul!

Or at least so you thought..

~ 💜 ~ The Trail ~ 💜 ~

You sit there, in the court, in the crowd, watching lyney's trail. Even if you just started dating not to long ago, you didn't believe a single thing that was said against him. Lyney was a kind soul, he would never do, such things! That was what you thought in the beginning of the trail. But now.. you weren't so sure anymore.. are you hurt? Is it the shock? You looked to your traveler friend, lumine. She seemed shocked as well, even more than you. For her it must be even worse than for you..

"Aren't you, mr lyney & you, mrs lynette both part of the house of the hearth?!", furina, the hydro archon just asked. A question that didn't really wanted to click in your head. Lyney? House of the hearth? Fatui? Bad person? There was so much going on in your head, yet your mind was completly blank. What did this mean?

After a few seconds you understood. You understood very well. But.. it has to be a missunderstanding right? Lyney would never..

"Answer my question mr. lyney!", the chief justice, nevieultte asked. Silence. You looked up to lyney, hoping to see a look of shock on his face. But there wasn't.. It looked more like.. guilt? Sadness? Maybe both? Clearly he feels bad that people think that way about him right? Poor lyney he really doesn't deserve this! "Yes your honor, it's the truth!", lyney answered with a serious look on his face.

Your breath stopped for seconds. The same words echoed in your mind. It is true? How did you never notice? Did he use you to get to know the traveler better? You looked up to your friend, lumine. She also looked down to you. Her face said it all.. hurt, disappointed, sad for you. But lumine quickly realised by just looking at you that you didn't know either.

Your heart hurted. Was it all just a lie? Maybe he never liked you.. it was all just a 'script' as furina put it? Actually you didn't know why you are so shocked. You kind of suspecte he hid something from you. You guessed right so why the hard feelings? The answer is simple really, because you are blinded by love. You fell right into his charm, into his trap, his illusion. Even now, your heart tells you it will be alright. He is a villain and? He murders people and? He is a liar and manipulator and? You still loved him! You always would no matter who he was or what he will become in the future. Caught in his charming web, no way of escape.

"Mr Lyney & Mrs Lynette are declared NOT GUILTY!!", finally the end of the trial was here. And you smiled, you were so happy. Even if lyney is a fatui at least he didn't hurt someone. Of course you still would ask for an explaination of him later! You still loved him after all, yet your trust issues are sending warn signals in your head through your whole body. Something still doesn't feel quiet right..

Looking up to lumine who just got ready to leave, you wondered, does she sense it too? Something is missing..

As trial ended you rushed over to your friend, lumine. She greated you with a soft hug and pats on the back. Oh.. she knew you were hurt. "Are you alright?", paimon asked, looking worried at you. You nodded while smiling softly, "It's going to be fine.. I'm sure lyney has his reasons! I want to hear his explainatiom first before jumping to conclusions!", you said towards your friends.

Not shortly after lyney & lynette ran after the traveler and you. It felt heartbreaking to see the way your friend acted towards the twins. Yet she had every reason to do so. After all she almost embarrassed herself infront of the hydro archon who maybe had information on her brother. Why would the hydro archon tell a criminals helper anything? Right?..

Still it hurted your soul to see the traveler leaving like that, "I'll see you later then!", lumine said to you as she left the opera house. So she DID sense it too! She knew something is off..

"Love, can we talk?", lyney asked you, sadness feeling his shaky voice. He is upset. The travelers reaction made him upset. The question is why.. because of his plans? Or does he really care?..

"Sure, where? Maybe somewhere more privat?", you asked with a gently smile towards the twins. "If it's okay.. would like to come back with us to.. um.. our home?", lyney asked, voice shaky, nervous. Is he scared you won't trust him? That you will say no? "Sure lyney let's go~", you smiled and nodded. There is a slim chance this could be a trap.. but oh well.. it's not like you couldn't fight yourself!

So you went back to the siblings house with them. "Sit down, would you like something to drink?", lyney asked with his usually cheerfull smile, but there was a pitch of sadness in his eyes. Sitting down on his bed you looked at him, "lyney why didn't you tell me?", you asked without taking your eyes from him. It was a honest question. Lyney held still in his movements and sighed, "I'm sorry.. I swear I wanted to! But the timing wasn't right.. I didn't want the traveler or you to hate me because I'm part of the fatui.. not all of us are bad..", lyney explained, looking at you with sorrow in his eyes. He looked upset. But was he upset over the 'script' failing or over their new found bound?

"I don't hate you lyney! I'm just.. upset why you didn't tell me sooner? I'll accept and love you no matter who you are or become!", you said, starting to tear up, "Tell me honestly.. was there a second motive involved as you and lynette approuched the traveler and me?", your voice was shaking as you asked what you feared most. The tears just started to overflow, running down your chin.

Lyney was lost for words. You were hurt and it ripped his heart apart. He never ment for things to be this way. All feelings for you were real and true! As for the traveller.. this was another story. But even if he explained it in detail to you, would you understand? Understand that he did all this just to protect his family, to give lynette finally the live she, no they deserved?! He didn't like the idea of beeing bad one bit. He loves to make people gasp in suprise and see their smiles and laughs. Hurting someone wasn't something he enjoyed, yet for his family he would go through with everything! Would you understand him? Stand by his side?

Lyney leaned in, pulling you in his arms and hugging you tightly. Trying to calm you down. "I know you have no reason to believe me. But all the words I said to YOU, all my feelings and actions for YOU, to YOU were real and came from heart. I showed you a part of me I usually keep hidden away.. the real lyney is a lot more complex and pathetic then the lyney on stage you know.. it's not something you just show everyone..", lyney whispered lost in thought, caressing with one hand gently over your back, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was just so scared.. I'm scared of losing you. If you would give me the chance to explain how things came to be this way.. maybe you will understand the real lyney better?", it was a question to you.

You toke a deep breath while leaning against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Suprisingly it was completly calm. Not a beat was off. Yet his body language spoke a different story. He looked scared, clenching his other hand in his lap to a fist, pressing his theeth together. He looked like he wanted to break down in tears but kept it under control. He hid everything away under this charm, under this cheerfull smiles. Taking his clenching hand in yours you looked up and smiled softly, "Thank you for telling me this lyney! I would love to get to know and love the real lyney, so would you please tell me more about you? I want to believe you! ", you said, kissing his hand with so much love as possible.

Lyney couldn't help but let out a gasp at your words. It felt like a huge burden was taken of off him. His heart was about to shatter in thousends of peaces. He loved you so so much, losing you would be like the sky would fall down, crushing every single shade of light amd hope underneath it. Without thinking he grabbed your hand, pulled you in his arms and hugged you tightly. "Thank you! I'll explain everything and I promise there won't be anymore secrets! I shall empty all my sleves and hat for you!", the magican said, his voice sounding a bit broken.

You hugged him back, gently caressing his back. Trying to calm him down. "I'm listening love~", you whispered, waiting for him to explain. For him to state his reasoning. For him to finally be a step closer to be himself around you. "It all started as lynette and I were still kids. Our parents died as we both were very young..", lyney started. You could tell it wasn't easy for him to talk about this. His breath grew heavier, voice slightly shaking. You toke both his hands in yours as you kissed them gently, "Don't force yourself if you're not ready! Today was a lot going on, we can talk another time love!", you said, worried for your boyfriend. As much as you wanted tl know the truth, your boyfriend's health mattered more to you. "No! I want to tell you this, I want you to understand that I'm not a bad person! J-Just give me some time please..", lyney snapped but sighed right after. He was different. Completly different from the 'lyney' you knew. Or you thought yiu knew. You just nodded and holding his hands in yours, waiting.

After a while lyney continued talking, "Because of our parent's death we were forced to live on the streets. I hated it! Our live was cursed. If it would just be me.. I couldn't have cared less but lynette didn't deserve such a live! It was disgusting, dangerous and I tried everything to get us out of this situation. So we leaned a few magic tricks we saw on the street, it wasn't anything special but it brought us some mora and some reason to live on. But it was far from good. One day a..", lyney stopped, shwalloed hard, clenching his fist, "a noble man came to us. He 'adopted' us, saying we were so talented. In the beginning I thought of it as a blessing. But.. it wasn't. Just another curse that was laid up on us! This noble man brought me to many different partys, festivals, just to grow his power, his social circle. And what better way as to use a young, 'handsome' and talented boy.. Tch!!..", the magican's eyes filled with rage. The grew darker in color and were filled with pure hatred. You never had seen your boyfriend like this.

"Lyney, it's in the past. You are here with me now!", you spoke in a soft voice, kissing his hands while looking at him. Seeing how his gaze grew softer right away. After a few minutes of silence he continued, "He forced me to peform magic on every party, mostly with lynette as my assistent, but more often I started to perform by myself.. he forced me to..", another sign that it was difficult to talk about this situation, your boyfriend sighed and continued, "I shouldn't tell you this. It's horrible but.. you have the right to know as my girlfriend. It will shock you a bit.. and I don't know if you will still like me after this.. so please get ready..", the magican said, hesitating a bit. He looked at the ground, hair falling over his eyes, so you couldn't see him tearing up.

What happened to him? You started to grow upset, thinking to ask your traveler companien, lumine to go and find this man. You know, just paying a visit, saying hello. How dare he make your boyfriend so upset? You sat up, moved out of lyneys arms as you placed your own around him. Pressing him to your chest, caressing his back gently, "Lyney no matter what you tell me it won't change a thing! It is the past! I won't leave you! So if you want to tell me, don't be afraid okay?", you whispered in a sad, warm voice.

Hearing those words meant so much to the magican. "Fine.. Thank you..", lyney continued speaking, "The noble man forced me to perform alone, drink with guests, wear clothes in ways.. that.. were not common for children. He forced me to sleep with rich women, man.. He teached me how to manipulate people.. As a child I thought I had to push through it, just so that lynette had a better live. Later on I started to realise how bad this all was. That it wasn't normal.. The snapping point was as lynette wasn't with me at all. I waited for her back at home but she never came. As I went to ask the noble man where my sister was.. he said... he said.. that one of the man at the party liked her and so he send her over to him as a gift..", lyney finished, his hands shaking, taking deep breathes.

Blood lust, rage, hate. You could feel it. It filled the room. Your own hands were cold, your heart beating fast. What kind of sick jerk?!! You really needed to talk to lumine about this! This bastard will pay!! That was your thoughts, yet you just bit your lip and hugging lyney thighter, kissing his hands.

"Stop this!", lyney all of sudden said. Holding in your tracks you looked shocked. Pulling away from him, "Oh okay.. I'm sorry!", you said a bit sad but worried. He must be very traumatized, you should leave him a bit, you thought. "N-No! Stop beeing angry for me! I can feel it.. the anger. Please don't feel angry.. like you said it's in the past and the noble is already dead!", lyney said, pulling you back into his arms. Making you fall on his lap, you blushed as you tried to sit up. Yet no chance since the magican held you close to him as he continued, "I ran after lynette, storming into the house of the noble. But as I arrived there the noble man was already dead. Father, the knave, arlecchino killed him. Father saved us. Also saving all the other young girls that were found in the basement! Lnyette didn't come to any harm. After this arlecchino made a deal with me, I could live happily with my family in order to follow her. Betrayal shall not happen and everyone would be treated as important. We shall get our freedom back.. I wasn't sure back then, after all I was just betrayed but.. father saved lynette so.. I ended up agreeing. Everything I do, have done is just for my family!.. Even tho I'm with the fatui at the end of the day I'm still just a brother who wants to protect his sister.." , lyney finished, sighing, looking to you. His eyes grew wide and he suddenly regreted telling you all of this.

You sat there listening to all of it, your heart was clenching in pain. It hurt. You loved lyney and lynette so much. You were hurt for them. What did they do to deserve this? Your hands were cold and shaking, tears running down your cheeks, biting your lip to stay quiet.

"Love.. please don't cry! I can't stand this hurt expression on your face! Look I'm all fine now, lynette is fine too. We have visions now and can protect ourselves! Besides.. we have you!", the magican whispered with a soft smile on his face. A caring smile, a real smile.. his real smile. Your heart jumped, yet you cried even more. Lyney finally for the first time showed you his real smile! This meant so much to you!

"Aghhh.. love.. please stop crying mhh? Look I'll show you something fun!", lyney said, grabbing his cards from the table next to him. "Pull one card! Doesn't matter which one!", lyney said, holding a few card in his hand. You giggled and pulled one, "It does matter does it? Fine I did and now?", you asked rubbing your tears away with the other hand, trying to calm yourself down. "Hold your card so that I can't see it, only you!", lyney said.

You did what he told you. "Now I want you to put this card, without me seeing it back into my hand okay?", your boyfriend said, holding his cards still in the hand. After you followed his request, he shambled the cards, "Now I'll mix them, I'll have no idea what you card was of course. But let my mind read yours, I'll pull your card out of this mixed card deck in a moment! Ready?~", he continued. You looked interested and curious as you nodded. "Is THIS your card?", lyney asked, pulling a card out of his deck. You pouted and giggeled, "Your mind trick didn't work lyney, this isn't my card". "Ohh... I see I wonder where it's hiding then? Mhh.. Oh I can see it clearly in my mind! Love, would you please check under the pillow next to you?", the magican pointed next to you. As you lifted the pillow and your card was underneath it you gapsed, "Noo wayy..". "Ahh see there it was hiding! And was this your card?", lyney smirked, taking back his card. You clapped your hands in excitement, "Yes!! This was amazing! You're so cool lyney!", you giggeld, hugging your boyfriend tightly. "And I'm glad you stopped crying y/n~", lyney smiled, caressing over your cheek.

"From now on I promise YOU, I'll try to be more like my real self and I'll always be honest with YOU!", lyney said, looking into your eyes. You smiled and leaned in to gently place your lips on his, "I know love! I forgive you and I believe you~", you said, kissing him again. Even if you still felt like you overlooked something, like something was missing you quickly dismissed it as he pushed you down on his bed. Kissing you deeper, caging you in between his arms, him now towering above you. The kiss continued until you both were barely able to breath. Then you parted to catch your breath. Your mind was blank, was lyney always such a good kisser? You couldn't remember. As you looked into his eyes all you saw was pure love, his cheeks were red, softly blushing. But his usually smile was gone, he just looked so cold. His eyes spoke another story..

"This is the real me.. without mask, without cheerfull smiles, without many words.. do I make you uncomfortable beeing like this?", lyney asked, looking into your eyes, watching out for any sign of discomfort. "No! You don't lyney! I'm curious to see more of the real you. I'll accept you for who you are, who you want to be!", you stated, hands reaching up to his face, just to cup his cheeks and squish them softly. A smile found it's way to lyney's lips. Soon after it disappeared again as he looked away with a sigh, "Thank you love. That means the world to me! But.. you maybe forgive me but will the traveler ever?..", the magican asked. He looked clearly upset. A sigh left your mouth. Even if you knew lumine pretty well you had no idea what to say. Giving information on her wouldn't do good.

"See.. like I understood your reasons, you have to understand that the traveler has been through a lot too. There is a good amount of bad history between the traveler and the fatui! Giving it's mostly fatui habringers that caused trouble and I'm sure the traveler knows that, eventually not all fatui members are the same. Yet we saw a lot, someone who used their own people as their doorstep, someone who kicked our dear friend brutally in the stomatch, someone who would gladly sacrifice any person along their way of power, someone who threw a whole nation into chaos and tried to drown it, someone who sold delusion illegaly and killed a got friend of ours, a psychopath who kinapped children, expieremented on them and drugged them.. these people were all fatui members. The traveler has been betrayed, hurt, got used so many times.. She probably just snapped..", you explained, looking at lyney. Another sigh left his lips, now looking back at you, "And you? You were there with her! Yet you forgive me? You saw those things too?!", he looked so hurt as he asked this. A smile came to your face, "Because thats the real me! I am me! I am my own person! And the traveler is their own person! The traveler maybe can't forgive you.. but I can! Because I am me!~", you said, looking into his eyes.

(Nsfw starts here~ )

Before you knew it lyney hugged you tightly, hiding his face in your neck, "Y-You can't just say things like this ma cherie~~", the magican stuttert. He got shy right there. Not expecting such an honest answer. Once again you suprised him, proving everything he thought he knew about you wrong. Throwing his mind reading skills under the aquabus. You really were something, he smirked in your neck. If you wouldn't be his girlfriend already he would've asked you to be his again. How much he loved you was actually insane. But that wasn't enough. Kissing and holding you close wasn't enough anymore. Lyney wanted you completly all to himself, he wanted you to be marked as his! Without thinking he leaned hin and sucked on your neck. Leaving a hickey. Then another one, and another one. He continued till your whole neck and shoulders were covered in hickeys and lovebites. Leaning back, panting heavy while admiring his work.

"Please let me show you how much I love you! Let me give you all the pleasure you deserve! Will you let let me take it a few steps further in our realtionship ma cherie?", your boyfriend asked you, serious look on his face, his cheeks called him out tho. He was so embarrassed to ask this. But he needed to know! You blushed yourself, heart beating fast, were you really about to do it? It's not like you were a virgin but thinking about doing such things with your boyfriend, lyney made you feel like one. You had dreamt about situation's like this.. might touched yourself to the thoughts of him taking you. But now, that it's about to become reality, you were actually a bit nervous. You wanted him obviously and you tried to say that but you just opened and closed your mouth like a fish on land. Heart beating out of your chest.

"I'm sorry love.. I got ahead of myself haha~ With your charming looking self it's really hard not to! Forget it ma cherie~ i just-", lyney stuttered, laughed akwardly and wanted to sit up. Noo you were silent for to long!! Aghh, you cursed at yourself inside your mind. The smile.. it looked fake. It was interesting how just now you saw the difference. He is back to his fake-self. Quickly you grabbed lyneys arm to pull him back on top of you as you yelled, "PLEASE FUCK ME!!", in his face above you.

A moment later you let out a loud gasp, holding your hand infront of your mouth. Why did you say it like that? Oh man.. what an embarrassement.. Hiding your face in your hands you waited for his reaction.

Lyney felt disgusting. You both had such an emotional moment and here he was.. semi hard under his pants, mind filled with unholy, sinfull thoughts of you laying under him. Obsessed with the idea to make you completly his. After you didn't answer he felt horrible. Was he about to become like the people he hated the most? Driven by their own sexuell desire not caring about others. He didn't want to be like. But these thoughts were lost the moment you pulled him back, saying the three magic words he never thought would hear from you. Lyney wasn't innocenct, he heard those words a lot, even if most are connected with bad memorys. But hearing you say those words was different! His cock twichted in his pants, only growing in size, geting harder. Damn.. you shouldn't have said that! A chuckle left the magican as he leaned down, stopping right infront of your lips, "Are you sure you can handle me?~", he said with a teasing smirk on his lips.

You held your breath has lyney leaned in, blushing hardly at his words. This damn tease..

"Why don't you test it out? I want all of you!~", you smirked back at him, just to laugh at his shy expression. He wasn't expecting that. Usually you were always the one blushing and he loved it. But now.. look who also has another side towards themselves?

Lyney chuckled and leaned in to kiss you deeply, caressing with one of his hands through your hair, "Then don't mind if I do show you the stars a bit closer tonight~", he whispered against your lips. Kissing you deeply, his tongue playing with yours. You couldn't help but to give in. Enjoying it, enjoying his sweet whisperes of compliments on your skin, against your lips. The room felt hot, yet you were so wet. Rubbing your thighs against each other while the whole make-out session happened. Lyney caressed his hands over your body, massaging all your sensetive spots. One hand of his moved under your shirt, playing with your breats while still kissing you.

You panted heavily into the kiss, nippels growing hard under his gentle touch. It felt so good. The magican pulled away, looking at you with lustfull eyes, "May I reveal your beauty to my eyes?", tugging on your shirt, he asked. You quickly nodded, lifting your arms up. One second later your shirt and bra layed somewhere forgotten on the room's floor. Lyney massaged your breats, playing with your hard nippels. Twirling them a bit,without hurting you. Curious over your reaction he leaned his head down, sucking on one of your already sensetive nippels. A smirk covered his face as you let out a loud moan. Suprised at the sudden pleasure overcoming your body. With his other hand he circled one finger around your nippel, but not touching were you wanted it to. While his tongue played and sucked on your nippel, you rubbed your thighs together. You were so wet already. Moaning and panting you had closed your eyes.

You opened them just as quick again. You were about to cum. "Ahh- l-lyney I-", you were trying to warn him. But the magican just hummed in knowledge and continued to suck. Taking his finger and gently flicking your other nippel, while sucking on the other you came. Moaning his name out loud, legs shaking. Cumming in your underwear. Lyney continued for a while before stopping as you calmed down a bit. "Did it feel that good? Ohh~ I must be really talented then with my mouth~ OOR.. could it be that I turn you on this much?~", a proud smirk covered his face. While still catching your breath you answered, "B-Both!", and sat up, pushing him to lay back on his bed. Climbing over him, sitting on his lap. "Would it be alright to take this off?", you asked, pulling on his bow and his clothes.

Suprised lyney leaned back, the view was great he had to admit. Maybe he should let you ride him next time, he thought to himself. Your question made him blush, his ears heating up, cock twitching im his pants. "Take everything off I don't mind~", he answered, smug as always. His heartbeat wasn't smug at all tho. Beating fast. You giggled and nodded, "Fine remember you allowed me too!~", you teased back. Your curiosity got the better of you and you couldn't wait to see your most beautiful boyfriend in his whole glory.

Taking off all of his clothes, just leaving him in his boxers you blushed. Damn he looked fine. You caressed over his chest, without thinking much leaning down, starting to kiss his chest, his shoulders, his arms, down to his stomatch, kissing his neck, leaving hickeys and lovebites everywhere. "Now everyone will know that the great magican lyney is taken~", you smirked, mostly to yourself, beeing proud. Lyney laughed, panting, with one hand gently caressing your head. "Let me return the pleasure to you", you smiled as you carefully removed his boxers. Gasping in suprise as his rock-hard cock jumped out, standing up all angry. A cute whine escaped the magican. Fuck, he had imagined you doing this for the longest time. He couldn't believe this moment was real.

Taking his cock in your mouth, filling up your throat as much as possible with his length. Taking it all in until your face met his hips. "Mghhh.. you're soo bighh~", you mumbled, mouth stuffed with him. Then you started slowly moving your head up and down, licking the tip with your tongue. Going faster after a while. Lyney could swear he was this close already. You were just so hot. You drove him insane. "Love, d-don't ahh- say those things! I-I aghh~ might lose control!", he whimpered out, holding on to the sheeds.

His cock twitching in your mouth. Was he close already? You moved your head faster, sucking harder. One hand caressing over his thighs, finding his full balls, massaging them gently. "Cumf in my mouthh~", you mumbled. Hearing him whine and whimper made you wet again. Feeling your clit throbb at the dirty sounds. "C-Cumming!! Nghh-", a second later your boyfriend, thrusted up in your mouth, leting out a grunt with a whine after. His hips jerking a bit, eyes closed while moaning your name in a dreamy voice. Cumming all into your mouth. There was so much. Without missing a beat you shwalloed his seed completly. Before you let go of him and pulled away, catching your breath.

The magican looked down at you, grabbing your arm, pulling you up in his arms to kiss you. A kiss full with love. "You did so well for me ma cherie~ Please let me taste you too?~", he asked into the kiss, licking over your lips. As you nodded he looked at you, "Sit down then~", he gestured to his face, laying on his back on the bed. A gasp left you at his idea, "A-Are you sure? I might be.. heavy..", you asked worried to hurt him. "Don't underestimate me! Sit down my love~", lyney said, looking serious at you. He really meant it.

With a nod you removed the rest of your clothes. You both were completly bare now. You crawled over him on the bed. Kneeling over his head. Your face all red, shy because you felt exposed like this. "What a great view ma cherie, lucky only I can see this everyday~", he whispered, caressing his hands over your ass. Massaging your ass while starring at your dripping wet cunt. You were so beautiful he could look at every part of you forever. What a perfect view but the show must go on so he leaned in, breathing against your cunt. Chuckling as you whimpered under his touch. Giving your slit a teasing lick with his tongue. But that wasn't nearly enough. "Sit down love~" he said to you, pointing on his face. Still kneeling over him you let yourself down on his mouth a bit more. "I said SIT!!", the magican grabbed your hips, pulling you down on his face, grabbing you tighs and holding you there. Holy shit! His voice changed tune completly. No, not only his voice, his entire aura was different! Fatui lyney is here and long may he stay..

A few minutes later and you came already twice. Lyney fucked his tongue into your hole, swirling it around inside, hitting all the right places. Then moving out, flicking your clit with his tongue. And repeat. It's like he couldn't get enough of your taste, your moans, your shaking legs. He was obsessed, with you! Tears running down your face, you grabbed the headboad as you leaned your head against it. Having not enough strengh anymore to hold yourself up. "C-Cumming again!! Nghh- lyney I'm.. cumming again!!!", you moaned, throwing your head back. The magican was unbothered, his pace growing faster, "Then cum!! Give it to me!", he ordered.

"AGHH L-LYNEEYY!!", you screamed his name, cumming into his mouth for the third time this night. Licking all of it clean, lyney removed his tongue from inside you. He smirked, happy with his actions, before geting an idea. He wasn't done with you yet! Just as you were about to catch your breath, he pushed two fingers into your hole, "You are still so tight ma cherie~ How will I fit my big cock in there mhh?~", he teased, smirking to himself as he started thrusting the fingers in and out of your used cunt. "T-To much-", you whined, moaning, yet moving your hips with his fingers. It felt so good but you were so sensetive that you coudln't help but to cry out. Not that you wanted him to stop, if anything you wanted him to go deeper!

"Mhh.. you are a bad liar ma cherie~ I saw the way you looked at my fingers all day, how you clenched your thighs together. I saw the way your eyes wandered over my back, my thighs. You eye-fucked me since the day we first met at the habor. So don't tell me it's 'to much'!", lyney looked up to you with a proud, teasing smirk. And you knew he was right. "M-More please.. lyney I want more~", you looked down at him, moving your hips faster. "That's my girl!~", the magican said. Fingers thrusting deeper, pace growing faster. You moaned his name loudly, eyes rolling over as you let out a loud yelp. What was that? Your head was spinning for a moment, it felt so good. "Ohh?~ Ma cherie let me show you a magic trick! In a second a waterfall will appear infront of our eyes, are you ready?~", lyney had this grin on his face that spelled trouble, yet you were to far gone already to realise that. "S-show mee ahh~~", you moaned, continueing to ride his fingers.

A twist of lyndys hand, currling of the two fingers. You felt how his fingers pulled all the way out, you whined at the lose of his touch. "Now watch closely love~", lyney said as he snapped his finger with the other hand. Trusting two fingers at once, full spead against your sweetspoat deep inside your cunt. While with the other hand he gently flicked your clit once. You didn't even know what was happening to you. Throwing your head forward, your mind became empty. A loud scream left you, you had lost all control over your body. Legs shaking like crazy, you squirted. All over lyndys face, all over the bed and all over your thighs. Panting heavily while holding on to the headboard. "Look at you~ I should make you my apprentice! You learn so quickly how to put on a great show~", lyney chuckled, removing his fingers from inside you, licking everything clean.

Still trying to calm down and geting your brain to function again you slowly opened your teary eyes. Did you just squirt? You never did that before.. oh wow!! "Mhh~ you taste so delicious, I want more ma cherie~", the magican under you mumbled. Pushing his tongue back into your still dripping cunt. Cleaning every last drop of you. Eating you out again. "Aghh!! L-lyn- aghj~ wait!! S-Still sensetivee~", you yelped, trying to push his head away. But lyney was having none of it, grabbing your thighs to hold you down, over his face, till he was finished. There was nothing you could do besides sit down and enjoy.

"Mhh~~ That was delicious~ This gave me an idea for my next show! The audience in the opera house would love your performance for sure! Maybe you will let me do this next time as our final act mhh?~", the magican grinned up at you from between your legs, gently helping you to lay down on the bed. Beeing so fucked out as you were right now you didn't even understand half of what he was saying, so just nodded. A chuckle left the magican. His cock throbbing in pain. "I'm sorry ma cherie, but I'm afraid I can't hold back anymore. May I show you a part of the real lyney or would it be to soon? You might.. not like this side of me..", the magican still was nervous. Hearing his voice drop into a bit of sadness, made you snap out of your lust-space. You took his hand in yours and kissed it gently, "You can go rough with me you know? I'm not made out of glas! I won't shatter easily! Besides.. i trust you lyney! No matter which you, I trust you!", you smiled, voice slightly cracking here and there.

With that the cheerfull glow in lyneys eyes was gone. The magical, charming self disappeared. As you looked up and looked into his eyes you got shocked for a second. This was new. His eyes seemed much more intimidating, much colder but not in a bad way. Just more serious. This lyney stared at you like you were his prey. A target he had layed his eyes on for a while. It felt like he could read your mind, see through your soul.

"Thank you y/n! For putting faith into my hands. Did I ever tell you how much I wanted you too see this side of me. But I was a coward. Like always, playing my games, hiding behind a mask. I really hope you'll still love me like this. I know I love you so much I can't put it into words!", lyney said, caressing with one hand through hair before leaning over you to kiss you on the lips. It was a deep kiss. You just smiled at him before returing the kiss. In your eyes there wasn't much difference. He still was your lyney! The one you loved!

"Spread your legs for me! I can't wait any longer. Let me stuff you full of my love! Let me make you mine!~", he whispered against your ear, caressing over your thighs. Kneeling above you he helped you spreading your legs, giving him the most beautiful view he so adored. "P-Please lyney! I wanna be yours~", you blushed at his confession and whined for his touch. For his love.

The bed made a 'thumb' noice as it was pushed forward against the wall. Lyney thrusted his whole cock into you in one go. Making you gasp loudly, clawing into his back. "You take me so well! You can be as loud as you like, let the others hear that I finally made you mine. Let the others know that I stole your heart. I want to hear you scream my name!", the magican said in between hard thrusts. Your mouth stood open, the pleasure was to much. You felt so full, walls strechted around his big cock. Threwing your head back with every thrust, biting your lip. Embarrassed that someone would hear you.

"Are you disobeying me? I told you-", lyney's voice got darker, grabbing your chin to have you look at him. "SCREAM-MY-NAME!", the fatui member said, thrusting hard into you with every word. Hitting your cervix over and over again. "Could it be that you have lost your voice? Huh.. what a pathetic whore! Here I thought so highly of you, wanting to make you my apprentice but actually with that dumb look on your face, making you my plaything sounds like a better use for you!", the fatui member whispered in your ear, biting into it. His thrusts geting deeper. "Still not screaming? Mhh.. I guess you leave me no other choice but to punish you..", lyney said as he leaned himself up. Snipping his fingers he suddenly held two clips in his hands. "Hold still otherwise it will hurt you!", he warned, thrusting deep into before staying still inside you. Putting one clip on your nipple, while he put the other on your clit. "There you go! Am I not nice my love? This will help you cum more quickly!", the fatui members smirked, pulling on the clip, making you whimper and moan.

Tears were running down your face. Your whole body felt so turned on. You felt so good. It was a bit painful but a few seconds later you wanted to cum so badly. This lyney was so mean but you loved it. It was so attractive and hot to you. As lyney picked up his fast, deep thrusts again you lost all sanity. Not caring about your noices anymore. Fuck it if someone heard you!

Lyney fucked you hard and fast, pulling on your clips, switching in between them. You screamed his name, cumming over and over again. Voice horse from all the screaming. "What a good whore you are for me! Finally obeying your master. I'm gonna cum soon! Gonna fill your slutty hole up with my seed!", the fatui members groweld, grabbing your thighs to push them up against your chest. Making sure his load would go deep inside of your womb.

You could only lay there and moan, whimper, scream and cum again and again. You were such a lovely mess for this member of the house of the hearth. Such a whore for this fatui member. So in love with the great magican. So obsessed with lyney. "P-please fill me up!! Want to you be yours!!", you moaned, whined. Not even sure if he was able to understand you in between the skin clapping and his own loud moans and whimpers.

"C-Cumming!!", lyney growled, thrusting deep into your cunt, all the way inside and stayed still. Warm liquide filled your cunt, your womb. You threw your head back, moaning. Lyney's cock twitched for a while, more of his seed coming out. Lyney pulled out after catching his breath, admiring his work. You looked so fucked out, so far gone. And he loved it. Within seconds his cock grew hard again.

"I'm not done yet!", he said, grabbing your arm and turning you around, to lay on your stomatch. The clips pressing into your sensetive spots. Making you hiss through your lips. "You are so attractiv love~ Your ass looks so fuckable. But for our first time this would be a bit to much right? So just let me fuck you from behind yes?", lyney chuckled, giving your ass a gentle clap. Pushing a pillow under your thighs.

His comment made you blush. A whine escaped you, a bit sad you wouldn't be able to do that today. But that was quickly forgotten as he pressed his cock, which was already hard again, into your cunt. Kneeling over you, behind you the fatui member watched as his cock disappeared in your needy hole. His hands, gloves still on, grabbing your ass. Massaging it, before thrusting all the way into you. Gently he spread your ass cheeks apart, revealling your other hole to his curious eyes. Shortly he was thinking off making you completly his today. Touching every part of you. But no, he had to be patient! He shouldn't overwhelm you! But.. that doesn't mean he couldn't use a bit of magic to please his curiosity!

"My my love, you don't get enough of me do you? Wanting me so much, even your other unused hole is clenching around nothing. You really want to be my plaything huh? Then let me gave you a taste what it's like. I wonder how much you can handle and how long you would last~", lyney whispered, teasingly smacking your ass. Before holding his hand infront of your face. "Remove my glove for me will you?", he asked. After you did what he asked of you he placed the glove under the pillow by your head. A snip of his finger. The light flickered before it turned of completly.

You got scared, about to ask what just happened. The next moment the light on the bedside table turned on gain. "Now check for me under the pillow infront of you will you?", lyney said with a smirk. So you did, removing the pillow with shaky hands. Revealling a vibrator in the same size as his dick. Your eyes widened, how did he do that??

"Ahh perfect! Let me take this~", lyney said, leaning over you to grab the toy. In the meantime pushing his cock deeper in you, grinding into you sweetspot, teasing you. Slowly grabing the toy as an excuse to mess with your insides. Slowly grinding his hips, circeling them a bit. Making you whimper and moan. Hands grabing the bed sheets.

"L-Lyney.. p-please", you whined, with teary eyes. This made the fatui member chuckle, "wrong title", he said, continueing to tease you. You moaned and throw your head back. Realising what he wanted. You blushed heavily. God damn.. this man.. he drives you insane! "M-Master please~", you asked, whimpered. "What a good whore you are! Your master shall continue the show now!", lyney said, leaning back as he sat up. Taking one finger and gently pushing it in your ass. "Your so tight. Tell me love, are you a virgin here? No harm done if not, just curious~", the fatui member asked, biting his lip at the thought. You moaned, hiding your face in the bed. "W-Why do you have to ask such an embarrassing ques-", you whined but got cut off by your own moan. Lyney pushed in a second finger already. Moving them a bit in and out. Not long till he added a third finger.

In

Out

In

Out

Then a laugh left him. Taking his fingers out of your ass. Grabing the vibrator instead, turning it on. You were embarrassed and confused so you wanted to ask what was so funny. Yet again this question got stuck in your throat. Lyney pushed the moving vibrator into your ass in one go. Thrusting it in as far as possible. A loud scream left you, making your cunt clench around his cock. Your mouth standing open in silent moans.

"What a dirty girl~ Already used everywhere!But don't worry, I'll be the last one to use all of your holes. After all you are mine now!~", the fatui member growledy thrusting his cock deep into you. Continueing his pace from before. Your screams, the wet sounds of your holes and the bed slamming up against the wall turned him on even more. "Even if you would try to fuck someone else.. I'll be the only one that comes into your mind! You will always beg for my cock, for my love, because no one can please you as much as I can!", lyney growled, sweat forming on his forhead. His cock twichted at the thought of you begging him to fuck you over and over again. It drove him wild.

You screamed so loud as you came that the whole fontain nation had heard you. Waking up celestia with your crys of pleasure. Not beeing able to think at all anymore, you were so gone. About to pass out actually. Lyney let out a whine, "I'm about to cum! Fill you up again! I'll make you mine! Then you will stay with me forever! With us forever! Take all of me so you will always be on my side ma cherie!~", lyney moaned, mumbled, while leaving hickeys all over your back.

A loud smack was heard, his hips pressing all the way into your ass, pushing the vibrator deeper into you while pressing your back into the matress. His hot cum filling you up. Your head was spinning, not even knowing what he all said in the end. For sure nothing important just how good he felt.

"Je t'aime~", lyney whispered as he kissed your neck gently. Pulling out of you. Taking the vibrator out, turning it off and removing the clips. Laying it down on his table next to the bed. The sparkle of magic and charm slowly returned to his eyes. The magican carefully turned you around, laying down next to you, so he could lay you on his chest. "I'm sorry love, did I hurt you? Do you need something?", lyney asked, voice calming and soft. You tried your best to stay awake and respond. "W-Water", you whispered, voice almost gone.

(Nsfw end! Aftercare here~ )

Lyney gave you a kiss to your forhead before geting dressed in his boxers and his shirt, "Alright love, please wait, I'll be back with water and something to clean you up", with that the magican left the room. Geting the said things for you.

As you were laying there, a complete mess, you realised just how bad this actually was. You are in love, totally obsessed and a total mess for this boy. Damn it all.. how would you explain lumine all of this? The marks all over your body were so obvious. It wasn't the first time this happened.. and it's not like she was a saint either. Buut.. this time it felt more difficult. Probably because lyney is part of the fatui! Aghh.. doesn't matter lumine is your best friend, she will understand! You smiled in thought, lumine always understood you so there wasn't anything to worry about.

A minute later lyney came back into the room with some water and a wet towel. "Ma cherie, are you still awake? I'm back, here is your water", you nodded, slowly sitting up. Taking the glas and quickly drinking all of it empty. That felt good! "Thank you", you smiled and leaned up to give lyney a kiss on the lips. "Let me help you clean up?", lyney asked. You only nodded. Letting him do the work.

After you were done the magican cuddled back to you in bed. Laying you on his chest, caressing through your hair. Before he knew it you were already fast asleep.

"Love?", he asked, not geting answer, he let his mask fall once again. A serious look appeared on his face as he looked out of the window, at the bright shining fullmoon. With one hand still caressing through your hair.

"I love you so much y/n, you don't understand. I never felt this way before for anyone! No one was more important to me than my sister. But since you appeared in my live you share that spot with lynette! I just want to protect you and keep you close. You are different from the traveler! You don't deserve to get involved into all of this bloody mess which is about to happen!", lyney whispered to himself, looking down at you. His eyes glowing brightly, only seeing you. He pulled out a card from under your hair. A fatui card.

As he flipped it in between his fingers, a frown rested on his lips, "Our identity's got revealed and it messed up our plan.. yet with father on the frontline's it should only be a minor issue! There will still be enough time to win the traveler's trust again.. after all we need her as a final failsave in our plan..", a dark aura surrounded the magican, eyes cold, emotionless. His face a frown. Before he felt you cuddling closer to him. Did you feel his mood swing? Could you hear him? No you couldn't. You were knocked out cold, just like he had planned. A small smile formed on his lips, "Sorry love, I shouldn't think about such dark things when I'm around you. After all you deserve to hear and see only good things", lyney smiled down at you, his smile growing warmer, emotion coming back into his eyes.

"Lucky father likes you, so you can stay with us! Don't worry my love, father made already all the plans for you to be save. Welcome to the house of hearth~", your boyfriend whispered, throwing the fatui card in the air. Shortly after the card turned into flower pattels, falling down on the ground next to him. As he leaned down to kiss your lips, he snapped his fingers one last time before also laying himself to sleep. The door of his room got locked. The curtain falling close over the windows. Leaving the room in the dark. Lyney took of his shirt and cuddled closer to you, holding close while singing his favorite song to you,

" … I'm sorry that I did this

The blood is on my hands

I stare at my reflection

I don't know who I am

Practice my confession

In case I take the stand

I'll say I learned my lesson

I'll be a better man

… I'm packing up my things

And I'm wiping down the walls

I'm rinsing off my clothes

And I'm walking through the halls

I did it all for her

So I felt nothing at all

I don't know what she'll say

So I'll ask her when she calls. ",

mumbling the last words, the magican also fell asleep.

~ ❤️ ~ Bonus ending ~ ❤️ ~

"Let's go try meeting the hydro archon again lumine!", paimon said to the traveler as they walked towards the opera house. Continueing their search for information. Wanting to find lumine's brother as soon as possible.

"Uhh.. where is y/n when you need her?", paimon sighed looking creeped out at the fontain. Lumine seemed to have heard voices again. What a creepy situation. "With y/n here, paimon feels much more save! Uhh.. not to say paimon doesn't feel save with you! It's just.. nevermind forget what paimon said hehe!", the floating friend akwardly laughed.

"Lumine.. aren't you worried about y/n at all? We both know the fatui can't be trusted..", paimon asks, looking worried at the traveler. "Don't worry paimon! She is for sure with lyney & lynette. Besides this is y/n we're talking about. She can handle it~", lumine smiled, holding a huge amount of trust and respect for you in her words. "Yeah.. you probably right! Paimon just hopes nothing bad happens to her..", your floating companien said. Lumine nodded and sighed, "I'll talk to her again tomorrow and warn her. Better save than sorry!", she said with a bit of worry in her voice. Something wasn't right. Lumine knew that. She could feel it in the air.

Suddenly all the lights around the two turned off. Paimon got scared and hides behind lumine. While the traveler pulled out her sword, ready to fight.

Clack. Clack. Clack...

Footsteps on the floor could be hard loud and clear. Then someone was clapping as the person walked out of darkness. Fatui jacket shining in the moonlight. A small smile met the traveler eyes.

"Perfect! The rumors do you justice, dear traveler. I didn't expect any less. What a wonderfull performance you put on!", a female voice spoke, sounding dangerous but also so charming. Lumine held her breath. That was..

"THE KNAVE?? What are you doing here? Traveler watch out! She is the 4th ranked fatui habringer!", paimon yelled, still hiding behind the traveler. "Oh did my sudden appearance suprise you this much? But wasn't it a forseen event that we would eventually run into each other? Well.. calm down! I'm not here to fight you or to get the gnosis! Not yet.. at least~", arlecchino spoke with a small smile on her face, raising both her arms in the fatui position before crossing them infront of her chest, "I'm simply here to breath a peace of advice to you~", she said. "Why should we listen to you?!", paimon asked, clearly upset. "Oh, you will listen to me. I made sure of this. After all you want to see your friend again right? Y/n? Was it?", arlecchino smirked, playing with her nails while waiting for an answer.

A gasp left paimon. Lumine put her sword away, putting both her hand on her hips while making an effort to listen, "Go ahead fatui! I'm listening!", she said, voice angry, upset, scared. Scared of losing another important person. "That's a wise move traveler! Your friend is save with us. Now for my adive-", the knave started but got cut off by paimon, "What did you do to y/n?!". Lumine looked clearly angry. Waiting for answer.

"Why? Nothing of course! Actually I took quiet the liking to her. She seemed like a very good 'friend', you may call it that. So no harm shall ever come to her!", arlecchino answered with a soft smile. "What are you planning knave?!", lumine asked, glaring at the women infront of her. Making the fatui habringer laugh, "Haha~ Aren't you cute?~ Mhh.. telling you much would ruin the plan. So let's say I'll borrow your friend for a while. Of course.. she can stay forever if that's what she wants! Your friend is very important to us! To the house of the hearth!", arlecchino answered, walking with every word closer to the traveler. Holding in her steps as she stood right infront of the traveler's face. Smiling down at her.

"You won't use her for your plan! I'll save her!", lumine yelled, pulling out her sword, pointing it against the knave's throat, "You best not provocate me knave!", the traveler whispered dangerously, her eyes glowing. Paimon floated a bit away, giving lumine the space to fight. Yet the knave grabbed the tip of the sharp sword in between her fingers and pressed it in her skin, drawing blood of her neck. Lumine let out a gasp, not expecting that, dropping her sword on the ground. A chuckle left arlecchino, grabbing the traveler's wrist pulling her closer, in the knave's arms. "You might not understand dear traveler. In our house everyone is family! Y/n belongs to that family. I see her as my daughter I'm very proud of. She can bring out lyney's true potenial! And that is very important to me, these kids need to survive for a better future! Even if I don't.. lyney will need to awake his true potential! So I support their lovely realtionship all the way. But.. do you dear traveler?", arlecchino whispered in the traveler's ear.

For a short while lumine was so hypnotisted by her voice that she completly forgot about everything. This women is dangerous! Lumine needed to warn you as soon as possible. This whole aura.. the knave's action. The charming voice. All of it.. it reminded the traveler on lyney. Damn it.. why didn't she realized it sooner?

'The knave' was never arlecchino! Arlecchino is the fatui habringers yes. But 'the knave' is a title made for someone else. Lyney was always the knave!! Lyney was arlecchino's shadow!! Her succesor!

~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~

( Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!~ ♡ )

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER VI - súton

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 11,1K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VII

súton (n.) twilight; the approach of death or the end of something

Images flashed through her mind like fragments of a dream, mixing reality with a disorienting haze. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for what was to come. She was still in her temporary private quarters. Was it all just a dream? Confusion ran through Y/N like the hot blood inside her veins.

The engine of the roaring car pierced her ears and her vision was still blurry. “Where am I?” she whispered, her voice slowly progressing to realise the situation. She grabbed the letter seat, trying to pull herself up.

“Chan-yeol?” she asked, pressured.

“Little bird, are you ready to fly away?” he laughed. Y/N looked at him with terror in her pupils.

“Are you out of your mind? You just signed your own death certificate Chan-yeol!” This is bad. Her thoughts spoke to her in distress, each and one of them telling her to do something.

“What, a sudden change of heart? Did you not want me to ship you off to the new land?” said the man, accelerating the car.

“He’s going to slaughter everyone!” she screamed.

“You did not think of that when you ran the last time or the time before, why now Y/N?” He spitted his words out, looking at her through the mirror. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before she would lose her mind for good.

“He has the whole family on a silver platter there Chan-yeol! Turn the car right now!”

“We’re almost there.” He declared. 

“Yoongi?!” was the first name that came to her mind. Voice full of fear. The sound of urgent footsteps echoed around her, crescendoing with the abrupt swing of the door. However, the one she sought, the man whose name she called, was not in her sight.

“Namjoon?” she called out, the surprise evident in her voice, interwoven with a thread of relief.

“How do you feel?” He asked, slowly approaching her petite form.

“What— I don’t understand,” she struggled to articulate her bewildered thoughts.

“You’ll thank me later.”

Chan-yeol’s words cut through the frosty air. He steered the car to the side of the road. Snow was everywhere she could see, each surface draped in ethereal white. Without waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete halt, Y/N flung the car door open, her steps bold as she ventured out into the wilderness.

The direction from which they arrived became a backdrop as she briskly distanced herself from Chan-yeol’s presence.

“This might be your last chance to flee this wicked world, girl.” His voice, heightened in intensity, reached her ears. Y/N stopped in tracks — the ultimatum clear.

Her family on one side, her newfound reality on the other – a choice lay before her.

“You have no idea what you just did!” she screamed defiantly, she refused to spare him a glance. “You’ve ruined everything!”

“Y/N?” a different voice echoed and her eyes widened at the unexpected interruption.

“I did not, Namjoon. I did not try to run away. You have to believe me!” Her words tumbled out in a frantic attempt to convey her innocence. Namjoon, his touch gentle, enveloped her small hands in his.

“Shhh… I know, it’s alright.” Namjoon cooed at the bride. And that’s when every single picture came back to her mind.

“How—how did you get here, for the love of God?” Y/N pivoted towards the speaking man, memories of their shared past flooding back as if the study hall of Shenyang’s University was just yesterday.

“I came for you,” he declared.

“For me?” She asked, disbelief in her voice.

“For me?!” she repeated, a frustrated laugh bubbling up. “Now you’re coming for me.” Y/N recalled the day he declared that she was in this battle alone, a stark contrast to their current proximity. They were never that close, he was too afraid to even hold her hand or maintain prolonged eye contact. But she considered him to be a friend, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he confessed, staring directly into her eyes.

“You love me?” She asked, mocking him, a bitter edge to her tone.

“Where was this love when I needed to run the hell out of the continent, huh?” She closed the distance between them, pushing him with aggressive force.

“You're a coward, Han Chen,” she spat, the venom in her voice cutting through the tension.

“I have a plan, Y/N,” he replied, brushing off her words even as they stung.

“Hmm… you have a plan. And what is this plan exactly?”

“He won’t want you if you’re ruined, Y/N.”

His words hit her like a cold gust of wind, and she gasped at the implications.

The haunting melody of that familiar song resonated in her mind once again.

“He—he attempted to rape me.” Y/N looked through her teary eyes directly at Namjoon's, whose mimics told her, she is right.

“He paid for that with his life.”

“You’re going to kill us all!” Her words became the truth once the first bullet was fired, finding its mark in Chen’s head. Y/N witnessed his eyes blackening, a vacancy replacing the spark of life. 

He was gone. Blood dripped down his neck, staining her chest, her breath hitching as her vision blurred. Chan-yeol swore and fumbled with his gun, leaving Y/N to crumple to the ground, as he was tightly holding her down for the devil’s messenger to do the unforgivable.

Her eyes narrowed at the white sky. Chen’s lifeless body collapsing onto her smaller frame. Y/N’s hands trembled as she mustered the strength to slowly push his corpse away.

“Are you alright?” she heard him before she saw him above her.

“What about the wedding?” she asked, curiosity mingling with the shock that gripped her.

“We’ll proceed—” he answered, addressing yet another of her fears.

Speech and vision eluded her. “Y/N?” he asked again, gently throwing Chen’s lifeless body off her. “Darling, please say something.” His concern was palpable.

“Let me go, you fuckers!” Chan-yeol’s enraged screams echoed nearby. He hadn’t made a clean escape after all.

Hoseok helped her sit. Y/N’s eyes mirrored the emptiness that had claimed Chen’s.

“Darling?” Hoseok urged, attempting to coax her back to the present.

“—and hold a trial tomorrow.”

“Trail?” she asked, her voice fragile.

“Chan-yeol was a part of our clan. He is a traitor, and we’ll treat him as such.”

“And what about—”

She cast one more glance at Chen’s lifeless form before shifting her attention to Chan-yeol, struggling on the ground, surrounded by Min soldiers from whom she only recognised Jungkook.

“I want to go back, Hoseok-ssi. Please take me back.” Her voice wavered. Hoseok breathed out, relieved, helping her stand. As she turned to look at Chan-yeol, his screams pierced the air.

“Don’t look that way, sweetie,” Hoseok intervened, guiding her away from the chaotic scene. Only when they reached the parked cars, a good half a mile away from the unfolding drama, did she exhale and allow herself to close her eyes.

“Yoongi is beyond pissed. We could have avoided this if you would tell him about that foolish boy.”

“I swear, Namjoon, we were not... we did not—” she stammered.

“—I did not know he would come look for me nor do that….”

“Do not tell that to me, princess,” he sighed.

“I need you to get dressed. We have already postponed it, and we cannot do it any longer.”

“Sure,” were her only words to him.

“She called for you, brother,” the right-hand man spoke as he entered the boss’s office, where Yoongi was finally getting ready for the wedding.

“Explain,” the young groom responded while fixing his tux in front of the mirror.

“She called your name when she woke up.”

“Did she?” Yoongi felt a spark of hope that he would indeed become her person, her lover, her everything, just as she was to him.

The right-hand man chuckled at his questioning response, knowing it warmed Yoongi’s heart.

“Damn this one tradition; you should go and see her.”

“I would, but that would ruin the thrill, wouldn’t it, hmm,” he hummed.

“You’re getting married, brother.”

“Yes, today I’m getting married, and tomorrow I have to deal with a man who kidnapped my woman and let the other fucker almost rape her,” Yoongi spat, hitting the wall next to the mirror. He never felt greater anxiety than when Xiaoli said she was taken away from him. How ironic that he is to be the one who feels anxious.

Her mother crying, father screaming at everyone, younger sister praying. Yoongi had a feeling that she would not be that stupid to run away when he had her family inside the hotel.

“Nothing else will go wrong.”

“Did you greet the Yamamotos?” The Yakuza clan was invited to the wedding, a bold move, and what was even bolder—they accepted and arrived.

“I surely did, brother,” said Namjoon.

“Good,” Yoongi smirked, not expecting what is yet to come.

“Everything is as it should be.”

“I don’t want Y/N’s father near her until the wedding, Jungkook-ah,” requested Yoongi from the passive listener, seated just a few meters away on the sofa, sipping on his glass of white liquor.

“As you wish, Hyung,” he put the glass down and stood up, fixing his tux and putting on his white hat.

“And for fuck’s sake, patch those knuckles, aight?” Yoongi screamed playfully after him.

The temple, a sanctuary of weary souls, stood solemnly bearing witness to the union unfolding within its hallowed walls.

The bride, adorned in a crimson hanfu dress, with beautiful shining golden details on her long sleeves, walked the creaking wooden path towards the temple’s entrance, her steps heavy with the knowledge of what is awaiting her. The rich fabric of her dress billowed like a blood-red sea, a stark contrast to the pallor of her face that concealed emotions that dared not surface.

The courtyard was adorned with bright red and white paper lanterns when she passed it. She did not dare to look around at all the noble underground hats who had gathered to witness the union of two syndicates.

The flickering candles cast eerie, dancing shadows upon the ancient murals depicting forgotten legends. The distant sounds of the city, with its bustling streets and restless souls, provided a haunting contrast to the stillness of this timeless ceremony. The soft strains of the gayageum and the rhythmic beats of the janggu filled the air.

At the temple’s altar, the groom, equally somber in attire, awaited the bride. His eyes, like deep pools, hinted at the secrets he carried, secrets buried beneath, he wished to share with her.

The chants of the officiating monk resonated through the temple; a haunting reminder of the spiritual solace sought amidst the chaos of the outside world. Their union was a flicker of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to extinguish the spirit of a nation. She was not initially meant to be his, fate seemed to have favoured him, and Yoongi thanked the almighty for bringing her to him.

Y/N dared not look at him, her breath unsteady, visible puffs in the cold air. The gal held her head high nonetheless, she was desperately trying not to give in to her intrusive thoughts and turn around, flee for her life, try one last time.

The gun pressed to Daiyu’s back served as a grim reminder, preventing her from succumbing to intrusive thoughts. She could see the tears that were in her eyes as she held tightly her little son. Chan-yeol, held captive and beaten for sins he performed.

The eyes of the guests felt heavy, especially her father’s, still unamused by the young leader’s audacity, keeping his hand tightly on his neck. Forbidden from seeing his own daughter before the ceremony, he seethed with anger, his frustration directed at the young Kkangpae.

Y/N’s heartbeat echoed loudly as she climbed the stairs to stand face-to-face with Yoongi, trying to find the courage to look at him. His eyes were full of expectations, he was waiting for this moment.

The exchange of bows signified respect and commitment. If this would be a traditional wedding, not minding their social status in the syndicates, they would continue with drinking rice wine sikhye, symbolizing the blending of their lives.

But this was not a common wedding. This ceremony was different. Altered by the traditions of the Min Clan. The moment arrived when Y/N extended her palm to take the knife from Yoongi’s hands. A cup of rice wine awaited underneath, capturing every drop of her blood. Their union, a pledge of loyalty through soul, blood, and mind.

Y/N met Yoongi’s eyes as she applied pressure to the hand holding the knife, slicing through his skin. A sadistic flicker seemed to pass through his eyes, as if he was enjoying the pain she was inflicting on him.

The rice wine now mixed with their blood and the heavy silence was driving Y/N mad.

The young Kkangpae lifted the cup to her lips, her eyes locked with Yoongi’s. Observing his actions closely, she followed suit, and he took a far bigger sip than her, almost devouring it all.

Setting the cup down they both extended their wounded hands. The golden wedding band that Yoongi slipped onto her finger, seemed to match her engagement ring that sat before it, closer to her knuckle. Y/N couldn’t stop looking at her hand. This was an explicit symbol of her being a taken woman now. No one else to touch, to have, and in their world — to own.

“Darling,” Yoongi whispered quietly, but still managed to keep the demand in his tone visible. Y/N shook her head to get herself to think straight again, realising she had lingered too long on the rings, delaying the public ceremony’s final step.

Huffing out collected air, she slipped the wedding band onto Yoongi’s finger, uniting them.

The monk placed a thick crimson ribbon over their hands, proclaiming them man and wife. No vows echoed like in the far west, no intimate encounters within the public ceremony, despite Yoongi’s yearning to press his lips against hers.

Y/N knew very well that her father scoffed and cursed at the young leader yet again for choosing to follow his wedding traditions and not theirs. And ultimately, there was no paying respect to the elders.

Kkangpae does not bow down to anyone. Nor will his new bride.

Y/N was especially glad she does not have to do that nor the tea ceremony she always found dull. Not that she particularly enjoyed being controlled and swept by the demands of Yoongi’s clan.

The monk’s chants grew louder again, filling the temple with an eerie resonance. Y/N and Yoongi turned to face the gathered members of their syndicates, their families, and the underworld elite who had come to witness this union.

The banquet that followed was a lavish affair as is fit for the Min clan. The tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous dishes, and the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of delicacies prepared by the finest chefs. Nonetheless, Y/N could sense the atmosphere that was charged with tension. As if everyone was prepared to cast guns and kill each other.

Y/N felt the weight of her father’s glare before she could see him eye to eye. Her mimicry has shown nothing more but pure disgust when Wang Zemo shook the scarred leader’s hand congratulating them on their marriage. Y/N did not trust her father. His judgment was always clouded by power.

“You do not seem pleased, father,” Y/N remarked, exposing him. Her mother nervously laughed, hoping to prevent a disturbance between the two clans. She eyed him, expecting an answer from him.

“I’m not pleased that your husband allowed you to be kidnapped,” he retorted, making Yoongi squeeze Y/N’s hip, a possessive gesture.

“But he aided a rescue team in no time, daddy. Meanwhile, you could not even keep me at home,” Y/N fired back, laughing in her father’s face, not believing her own words defended the young Kkangpae that was now amusingly smirking next to her. She could see how her father’s brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, fuming at his daughter. Y/N can do that now, she does not owe her father loyalty anymore.

Her mother stopped him before he could raise his hand causing commotion within the two clans, instead he lifted his free arm pointing a warning finger at her. Y/N smiled sweetly and watched her mother pull his arm until he walked with her. Only when he was far away did she ask her new husband.

“Did he give you trouble when you asked for Xiaoli’s hand in marriage on behalf of Taehyung?” The young leader only hummed in response, his eyes were focused on something different from her now, and Y/N could not help but turn her head in the same direction as he was looking.

What unsettled her the most was the presence of Yamamotos. Yoongi nor anyone did not mention single tweet about these poisonous guests. Therefore, she felt her stomach rotate when they were approaching and for the first time in forever, Y/N pressed herself closer to Yoongi, intertwining their fingers together.

Of course, she feared them. She always viewed her father’s tactics and measures quite cruel. But if Wang Zemo was cruel than Yamamoto was brutal. And it was only natural to fear such a brutal syndicate as Yakuza.

“Congratulations, Min,” said the older male in Japanese. He did not bother to speak the tongue of his enemy’s territory, but he knew they would understand perfectly. The man had such a strong and intense aura around him. He ruled with fear, that thing was obvious.

He held his hand to Yoongi who accepted it for both your and his behalf, shaking it with firm grip, piercing his eyes alongside.

“You got yourself a fine woman, Min, —” he leered at Y/N, his gaze filled with hunger. A wave of disgust washed over her.

“She has caused you quite a bit of trouble, has she not?” he continued, finishing his remark. Y/N understood that their marriage was a calculated move that would redefine the power dynamics within the criminal underworld. Whether Yamamoto perceived the Mins as a threat remained an assumption on her part.

“Not as much trouble as you sending that foolish boy to his death,” Yoongi added, causing Y/N’s breath to hitch. Slowly, her eyes lifted to Yoongi, whose gaze now held an intensity that made the scar glow with anger. Y/N did not understand any bit of it. Had he not come willingly? No, that simply cannot be, there had to be an ulterior motive to commit such a sin.

“Certainly, we knew you would handle him and your bride just as you saw fit.”

“Surely, —” Yoongi replied with a dark undertone and a sinister smile. A wave of nausea rolled through Y/N. If they lingered in the presence of the Japanese Yakuza any longer, she might empty her stomach right there. Thankfully, they bid a seemingly cordial farewell, leaving to take their seats behind the tables and Y/N could at least breathe out.

“Yoongi—” she began once they were out of earshot. He cast her a brief glance before pivoting to examine her, noting her even paler face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she stumbled the words out of her system fast. Y/N released Yoongi’s hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh God,” her sister’s whisper reached her ears, a reminder of their public setting, alerting her that she is still in public, and the eyes will pry.

Y/N swiftly walked — not ran, to avoid drawing attention — towards the nearest door leading outside to the cold. Once in the cold air again, she emptied her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Y/N heard her sister’s voice yet again, just before her hands were soothingly rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe the cold air in. She was grateful it was her sister offering comfort, not the groom. At least Xiaoli realized that Y/N wouldn’t want Yoongi to see her now. Nor any other prying eyes.

“It’s not okay, Xiaoli,” said Y/N through tears, feeling a profound, heart-wrenching anxiety and fear settling in her core.

“They fucking sent him to rape me, and God knows what else.”

“And he did not manage to do that. Hoseok took care of that. Jungkook took care of that, —”

Y/N recalled, her mind flashing to Jungkook storming into her room, his concern evident as he bombarded her with questions about her well-being. Guilt weighed on him for getting entangled with Chan-yeol instead of going straight to her. As her new brother, he felt an obligation to protect her, just like Hoseok, who would go to any lengths for her.

And that leaves Y/N to wonder. She pondered the sincerity behind their sympathy. Was it because of her supposed relationship with their brother, or was there a genuine connection forming? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her aunt sensed the potential for them to become family, to be her home.

“—Leader Min will see to it that he is brought to justice,” Xiaoli continued, always sure to express her love for Yoongi.

Y/N looked down at her stained dress with a sense of pity, both for herself and the situation. A deep sense of sadness remained.

“I just wish it did not have to be this way,” she confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. “I wish I could have chosen this path for myself, rather than having it forced upon me.”

“But this is not the world or lifetime where you could do that,” her sister replied, and for a brief moment, Y/N felt a glimmer of understanding.

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “He used to be my friend; you know. Despite what he did, I never thought he would die in front of my eyes, —” her words held honesty, tinged with something else.

“And I never thought that I would be relieved they came in time and shot him dead, Xiaoli,” Y/N admitted, finally getting it off her chest.

“Taehyung-oppa said they paid him to do it.” Xiaoli disclosed. Y/N dreaded this scenario; she suspected that Chen did not act out of love for her. No one who loved someone would commit such a horrendous act.

Y/N scoffed, a desperate laugh escaping her. “Do you know what will happen to Chan-yeol?” She hadn’t had the chance to discuss this with Yoongi, leaving her in the dark and feeling consumed by it.

“He is held captive. That is all I know,” Xiaoli replied while helping Y/N stand. She needed to change her dress; there was no way she could return in this state.

“Y/N?” Xiaoli asked. Her older sister only hummed in response.

“If you attempt to run ever again, Daiyu is going to die—” Y/N paused for a moment.

“—He won’t hurt me, I’ll be betrothed to Taehyung-oppa. But Daiyu is still in the open.”

“Did you talk to her?” She asked.

“No,” Xiaoli replied, “but I talked to Kkangpae Min. He confirmed his intentions.”

“And it did not move you one bit?” Said Y/N surprised with what degree of calmness her sister is speaking of this.

Yoongi wanted to make it abundantly clear that he would take drastic measures if she attempted to escape again. He wanted her to fear the consequences, to be consumed by the dread of what might happen if she defied him; deliberately informing Xiaoli, knowing the bond between the sisters was a weak point for Y/N.

“I would not dare to go against his word.” Y/N only smiled sadly at her sister’s words. She does not understand. How could she?

The way to her chamber felt endless. Y/N was acutely aware of her disheveled state and the need for privacy. Another set of footsteps behind her and Xiaoli quickened her heart with anxiety.

“Y/N?” The soothing voice of the doctor, Seokjin, reached her ears, and she could not have been more relieved. Without turning around, she responded.

“I just need to change. I’m fine, Seokjin.”

Y/N wasted no time in stepping inside her room once they finally reached it. Seokjin followed, his demeanour calm and professional, yet she sensed a hint of concern in his eyes.

As she began changing out of the crimson robe from the wedding ceremony, Y/N couldn’t deny the unease that lingered within her.

“You can tell him I will be back in a little while, Seokjin.” Y/N turned to Seokjin, offering a weak smile.

“Are you sure you are feeling well?” Seokjin nodded; his expression was gentle.

“It’s just the anxiety.” Said Y/N. Her face still bore the traces of tears and turmoil, but she resolved to face the celebration with as much grace as she could muster. She knew that in the world she inhabited, appearances were everything.

Seokjin stood by the door, waiting patiently. “I’ll change and come right away,” she promised to the older male.

“Very well,” he answered simply and closed the door behind him leaving her and Xiaoli alone.

The intricate layers of fabric and silk were carefully removed, revealing a simpler, yet equally elegant, hanfu beneath — this one was a shade of soft lavender.

“Do you want to wear the hanbok instead?” Xiaoli asked. Does she? Just this morning, she insisted that her wedding dress will be a representation of the culture she is coming from. Looking over at the beautiful crimson and royal blue hanbok that she was supposed to wear as her wedding dress, Y/N hesitated.

“I don’t feel like wearing a wedding dress anymore, Xiaoli.” Her sister nodded in understanding, but beneath her supportive gaze, there lingered a hint of disappointment. Xiaoli had hoped that Y/N would fully embrace the culture of the Min clan, a desire likely shared by the clan’s leader. However, Y/N’s desire was to stay true to her Chinese roots for a little bit longer. If this is the only way she can remain herself, she is willing to rebel against him as long as she can.

She heard her sister sigh as she handed her the crimson flowery qipao. “You could at least meet him in the middle.” Xiaoli muttered, her disappointment evident.

“Xiaoli, if you did not notice I’m having a really bad day today.” Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. She had endured enough turmoil for one day, and the idea of appeasing Yoongi’s wishes no longer held much appeal.

“I understand—” Xiaoli wanted to say before Y/N interrupted her with the welling tears in her eyes and raised voice.

“No, you do not understand, Xiaoli!” Said Y/N, sliding down to a lower cushion chair, hugging her head with her small hands.

“But you are not even trying, Y/N,” Xiaoli retorted.

“Because I’m gasping for air every single time! I’m drowning, and yet I cannot learn to swim—” she cried out, clutching the fabric of her hanfu to the point she feared it would tear.

“All of you are blindly trying to convince me that this is the best that could ever happen to me—” she continued.

“—like you’re some kind of Gods that shall decide one’s fate.”

Xiaoli sighed, her frustration and discomfort evident. “All we do is care for you, truly, madly, deeply.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of despair and defiance.

“Are you listening to yourself, sister?!” Y/N did not even give her a chance to answer.

“—We are family, by blood, Xiaoli, I thought you cared about me to be more than just a pawn—” this time Xiaoli interrupted her older sister.

“And because we are family, I am trying to protect what matters to all of us.” Xiaoli knelt beside her, trying to console Y/N.

“What about what matters to me?” Y/N retorted; her voice shaky. “What about my dreams, my choices? He took that from me.”

Xiaoli hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “We all have to make sacrifices. And I know that you will make the best out of this.”

Y/N looked at her sister, a mix of disbelief and sadness in her eyes. “Is this the price of my freedom?”

“If this was another life, you could have what you truly desire.” Said Xiaoli. Y/N wiped away her tears before she spoke.

“I won’t let—” Y/N inquired.

“The consequences will be severe.” Said Xiaoli before Y/N could utter her thought as if she knew what she wanted to say.

“Remember that before you will do anything.”

The distant strains of music and laughter reached their ears when Xiaoli opened the door, walking through it in the direction of the celebration. Y/N put on a mask of composure, her posture regal, and her expression neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see the turmoil within her. Tonight, she would play the role expected of her, all while strategizing her next moves in this complex and dangerous game.

“Min Buin?!” a voice called out, unfamiliar and tinged with a strange mixture of reverence and unease — it sent a shiver down her spine.

A man stood right in the middle of the hall behind her. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit that exuded authority, a stark departure from the opulence of the occasion.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder who this enigmatic figure was and why he had singled her out with that title,

“Min Buin?!” He repeated again. Y/N turned her head slightly to Xiaoli, now a few steps closer to the banquet, her expression wary.

“Who’s asking?” she demanded, a hint of protectiveness in her voice. The man did not seem to be perturbed by Y/N’s defensive stance. Instead, he offered a faint, cryptic smile.

“Do you not know?” His tone took a different direction. He stepped closer to them.

“Y/N,” Xiaoli gulped down, her voice trembling. “That is Yamamoto Itsuki.” By how her sister spoke Y/N understood that this is the very man she was supposed to marry.

“Go.” She whispered to her sister who did not hesitate to run down the corridor and alert anyone. Only once Y/N was sure that her sister was far away did she speak.

“What is your business with me?” Y/N asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. The man’s smile widened slightly, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the dim light.

“Business?” He laughed. Y/N’s mind raced as she absorbed his words. She had been thrust into this world, initially a pawn in a dangerous game, but now it seemed that her role was evolving.

“I have unfinished business with you, yes.” He said after a few silent moments. Only her heavy breathing could be heard.

“I’m very much sure that a business between us never started in the first place; therefore, it seems to me we have nothing to talk about,” said Y/N, swiftly turning her body back to its original position, ready to flee to the banquet and seek help.

As she predicted, this day could only get worse as she found herself pinned to the nearest wall. Y/N could feel his breath on her face, a strong large hand enveloped her throat, pressing her to the wall harder and making it hard to breathe. Y/N’s breathing skipped intervals.

“You are one greedy ungrateful little bitch, are you not?” He spat the words into her face, squeezing her neck even tighter. Her hands automatically rose to his arm, trying to push him away. Her head started to spin, and she could feel the redness that rushed to her cheeks as she gasped for air that would fill her lungs.

“You were supposed to be mine!” His scream echoed in the empty corridor. Out of all the endings of her life, she truly did not foresee this one. There was a strike of a quick moment where she thought that death would be her redemption and eternal freedom she wished for. However, Y/N still had the will to fight for her life. She dug her nails into his arm, trying to push his hand away one more time, but he was too strong.

A click of a reloading gun seemed too muffled for her ears to notice, but when the sudden absence of pressure on her throat disappeared, and she could finally welcome the air in, she thanked God for being still in his favour.

Her knees have denounced their service, and she found herself on the ground. She went to touch her sore throat when a familiar hand did it before her. Y/N’s breath was still rocky, and she heard an annoying ringing in her ears. She barely could hear what Yoongi was screaming at the man who was recently near killing her.

“Y/N?” She heard Jimin’s voice, but she could not figure out where it was coming from. Her head was spinning like a carousel, and her vision was still a bit blurry. She wanted to speak up but she found it hard to do so.

“Can you breathe for me, darling?” She tried to stabilize her breathing but couldn’t stop panting for air.

“You have to try and calm down.” Seokjin was speaking to her, and by her blurry vision she saw another four figures around her. Two holding the younger Yamamoto for Yoongi, the other two attending to her.

Y/N went to try to speak again, even though she was fully aware that only high-pitched tones would come out that would make her words unrecognisable.

“I—” she tried, “I want—” she finally gulped down the little amount of saliva she had in her mouth.

“Bring her water right now.” Seokjin understood quickly. Her hearing was coming back to life and same for her vision. She could now see Jungkook and Hoseok dragging the man away from them, and Yoongi swiftly turning to examine the damage the man had done to his beloved.

By the time he fell down to his knees, cupping her cheeks, trying to read from her eyes, Jimin had returned with the water she needed. Yoongi helped her to hold the glass in both of her hands and drink it whole in one go.

“I do not want to stay here tonight,” she said with a raspy voice, feeling every muscle in her throat. Yoongi looked at her with worry in his eyes. He promised she would be safe with him, and within less than twelve hours, she was abducted, almost raped, and nearly choked to death.

“I am so sorry, baby,” said the young leader with remorse. “I am going to make it better, I promise.” Y/N’s ‘better’ however, contained something else than his ‘better’.

“We cannot leave right away—” tears escaped her eyes, falling heavy and hot on her dress. Yoongi was the Kkangpae and the enemy’s clan member just assaulted his wife. This cannot slip out without consequences.

“How dare you disrespect me and my wife this way,” said Yoongi to the older male from Yamamoto’s clan who had barely sat down in Yoongi’s office.

The younger offender, who had laid his hand on Y/N, was still firmly held by Hoseok and Jungkook. She sat in Yoongi’s office chair, a blanket draped over her shoulders, the purple bruises on her neck stark against her skin, certainly not flattering jewelry.

“How dare you disrespect our clan, Kkangpae Min.” The older male retorted, testing the younger leader’s patience. Yoongi clenched his hand into a fist, struggling to maintain control.

“This is far too unforgivable against what you assume I did,” he spat out quickly. Y/N wished she could just hide away and never come back, but as the Kkangpae’s wife, a Buin, she had to be present.

Yamamoto scoffed. “You are playing the game dirty, so are we—”

“Take this as a payback for meddling in our affairs, Kkangpae Min—” the older male started.

“And as far as traditions goes, she is yet to be your woman by our law and God’s will,” alluding to the inevitable — they had to consummate the marriage. Y/N knew this and had been making peace with the fact throughout the day.

“You won’t have to worry about that, Mr. Yamamoto,” Yoongi was always known for his cockiness whilst dealing with enemies, but he was also the most cautious man alive, however today was a misstep he did not wish to ever make. All this only proved he could not leave her alone — not because she might flee, but because someone could take her away from him. And he would never let her go.

“Watch me fucking continue meddling—” Yoongi retorted. “I see that you know the goddamn rules; I shall have his hand.” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She did not expect him to go unpunished for what he did to her, which would make Yoongi look unfit to rule. Itsuki started to squirm in their hold, attempting to break free.

“You want a war?” Yamamoto asked with venom in his voice.

“You apparently desire to have it when you assaulted my wife twice in one day.” Yoongi spat and signaled to Hoseok to bring Itsuki forward. Jungkook grabbed the hand that had been on Y/N’s neck less than an hour ago.

“Father!” Itsuki screamed with madness in his voice.

“Here you have it, you impatient imbecile!” his father screamed back at him, frustrated with both himself and his son. The plan had been to warn the Mins, not infuriate them.

Y/N watched Yoongi wordlessly as he took a short katana from Namjoon who appeared out of nowhere. The blade was sharp as a viper’s fang, and it gleamed in the dim light sourcing from the fireplace. The hilt, wrapped in silk, the colour of dried blood, felt cool and ominous in Yoongi’s hand.

She knew he’d have to swing it more than once to actually cut off Itsuki’s hand. Y/N gulped down her fear, pressing both hands to her mouth to stifle the scream that escaped when he first wielded the blade, piercing through Itsuki’s skin and colliding with bone, breaking it open. Burgundy blood streamed down to the wooden floor. Y/N clenched her eyes shut at the painful scream that followed and bounced slightly on the chair at the loud thump of the hand hitting the ground.

“You have one hour to leave our land,” Yoongi declared, aiming the katana at the leading Yamamoto. The son dropped to the ground, cradling his arm, staring at the severed hand and screaming in pain, muttering threats to the Min clan.

“You chose.” The older male looked over to Y/N who was still very much speechless and in utter shock from what occurred before her eyes. Yoongi’s gaze, momentarily lingering on his wife with furrowed brows, but quickly returned to Yamamoto. Their eyes locked, and the older man extended his hand to retrieve his injured son from the floor, leading him out of the room.

Yoongi dropped the katana onto the ground, tilting his head backwards in a brief prayer to the Lord. The room remained cloaked in heavy silence — not a peaceful silence, but one pregnant with the weight of a grim decision. A choice had been made, and its consequences were bound to unfold in darkness. This was a proclamation of war.

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the spot where Yamamoto’s hand was laying limp in a pool of fresh blood. As Yoongi straightened and turned his gaze toward her, his eyes were a tempest of conflicting emotions.

“You chose.”

Yoongi echoed Yamamoto’s words more as a question, his voice carrying a low, sombre resignation. He did not demand an answer; he knew what Yamamoto was talking about. Glancing down at his black shoes, now soaked with the blood of his enemy, Yoongi let out a soft laugh at the irony of her choosing him.

He understood the possibility that her choice might stem from self-preservation, realizing he could annihilate her entire family the moment she disappeared. Yet, his own selfishness shielded him from that harsh reality. Yoongi desperately wanted to believe that she returned to him and him alone.

Her eyes grew too heavy to stay open during the car ride back to the sanctuary. She allowed them a brief respite, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her into a momentary rest. The events of this day had been like a tempest, tearing through the delicate fabric of her reality and leaving chaos in its wake.

Y/N’s strength was something Yoongi admired, yet even he recognized the toll this day had taken on her. The hypocrite in him thinking that kind of evil will lead her to seek solace in him, perhaps finding that this was where she truly belonged — by his side.

She could have turned and run when the chance presented itself, disappearing into the wild. But she did not, and that is what mattered to Yoongi. For the first time, Y/N found herself yearning to return to the sanctuary, back to her golden cage.

Y/N knew that this night would be a reflection of the complexities of their relationship, a dance between desire and the darkness that surrounded them. Y/N understood that despite the arduous day, this had to be done. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the car and into the dark.

She walked slightly behind her now husband, letting him lead the way to the house she did not quite recognise. Before she mustered the courage to ask questions, he spoke first.

“I grew up in this house—” he whispered into the cold air, “a hot spring is right behind it.”

Y/N observed the house built into the massive stone walls of the valley, surrounded by tall pine trees. It was too dark for her to see just how tall they actually are, but the little flickering lights visible through the windows granted her a little peak.

“I want to spend tonight with you here,” he turned to face her. Yoongi could not tear his gaze away from her, adoring every detail—her eyes, cheeks, nose, hair, mouth. But if you would ask him, how did he come to be so obsessed with her, he would not give a cohesive answer. The inexplicable obsession he felt seemed right, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. He believed that even if she did not feel it now, she would eventually.

“Just the two of us.”

He took a little step to be closer to her. If Y/N understood correctly, this is the only place where they can be truly alone without prying eyes and ears. Yoongi wanted to talk and what’s more, he intended to do more than just talk tonight.

“Aight,” she replied slowly with her still sore throat. He had never seen her this calm, and he wanted to enjoy every minute she is not fighting against him — despite the disturbing circumstances that led to her current state of mind.

“Can we have some tea first?” she asked with little hope that he would agree to slow down a little bit. He chuckled at her sudden innocence and extended his arm to caress her cheek.

“Course we can, my love,” he smiled softly.

And so, they found themselves once again by the comforting embrace of a fireplace, patiently waiting for the tea to brew in the teapot’s gentle whistle.

There was something about this scenery that Yoongi could not help but love. Y/N, seated on the fur rug next to the warmth of the crackling flames, found solace in these quiet moments. After the tumultuous events of the day, it was a sanctuary they both needed. At least, she felt at peace in moments like these.

“I am sorry.” he suddenly confessed, his eyes revealing the genuine sorrow within. Today had left Yoongi conflicted, riding the highs of marrying the woman he desired while being weighed down by guilt for the day’s events.

Y/N met his gaze, her voice devoid of emotion as she calmly asked, “About what exact part?”

“All of it,” he shook his head. Y/N chuckled, and confusion flickered in Yoongi’s eyes.

“Are you not going to punish me, Kkangpae?” Here she goes.

“I do desire to know your relation to the boy, I won’t lie, but no.”

“There is no relation.”

“Are you sure? We talked about this already — no lies.”

“I’m not lying, he did fancy me, yes—” Yoongi’s grip on his hands tightened.

“—I thought we were friends, but he was not keen to flee away with me when I needed to,” she admitted.

“Do you mourn him?” Yoongi’s voice held a serious tone.

“I mourn the boy he was, not what he apparently became after we parted—” she began, carefully, collecting her thoughts.

“—they paid him to go and attempt rape me, Yoongi. I pray for his soul to find its peace after what sins he committed,” a tear escaped her eye, a sob followed. Yoongi leaned in, holding her small hands in an attempt to provide comfort.

“It was horrible,” she cried out and finally, she opened up to him.

“Amidst all the bad today, I’m so proud of you—” Y/N raised her blurry eyesight to meet him, awaiting an explanation.

“—You could have run, and you did not. You chose to come back to me.”

“I promise, I swear to you — I will never ever let that happen again—” he assured, moving closer to her.

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to address the yet unspoken. “Can I get the letter, please?” Y/N whispered.

“In the morning.” He answered, intending to prolong it to ensure her continued good behaviour and obedience.

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited. 

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

The hanok, with its wooden beams and paper windows, seemed to breathe with the rhythm of their footsteps. The aroma of tea still lingered within the walls, all the way back in the house.

“Pray with me?” a soft plea that resonated with the hallowed surroundings. They settled on top of the low cushion bed; he held both her hands in his. The subtle sounds of the valley outside, muffled by the hanji-covered windows, crackling fire nearby — the low hum of their shared prayer filled the room, blending with the whispers of the winter wind outside.

As they concluded their prayers, the world outside the hanok continued its silent ballet with nature. Yoongi slowly let her hands fall into her lap. Y/N kept looking at her hands, biting her lower lip.

He extended his hands pulling out the golden pins from her hair, releasing them.

“You are magnificent,” he whispered into her lips that were anticipating his. She looked into his eyes one last time before she slowly closed them, awaiting him to take the first step. Y/N could feel both his hands on the swell of her bottom, slightly squeezing it and thus making her pant into his mouth. He pulled her into his lap, not distancing their close proximity. Not now. Not ever.

A deep groan released from his throat when she fully sat down in his lap. Y/N was straddling him, feeling his stiff manhood tightly pressed against her core making her breath hitch. He moved his hand from its place on her butt cheek to the swell of her clothed breast.

“Let me make love to you.” He kissed her lips very gently, waiting for her response. She knew he would do so even if she would not give him her consent. And once she shyly nodded her head, he dove right in and kissed her very deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He was hungry and only she could sate him.

He continued to press himself against her core, creating at least some friction in between, aiming to hit the right spot and make her sing for him.

Yoongi was trying to trace down the opening of her qipao, feeling the delicately made buttons on her chest. Not for a moment he stopped kissing her, unbuttoning her dress and hiking it up from its hem on her thighs, showing her undergarments and pulling it all the way up her head —throwing the peace of clothing that provided her warmth, perhaps even a security blanket, away.

Her neck was his next target. He bent his head making hers to lean back to allow him access. Yoongi layered down butterfly kisses all over her, now, naked, bruised neckline. “You are such a good girl.” He muttered into her skin, caressing her bottom while he placed his hand back to her right breast.

Y/N could feel her nipples stiffen under the change of temperature, or perhaps the excitement her body was going through, which she did not want to admit. He took one of her hands who were inactive till now and placed it on his chest near the small buttons of his shirt. Trying to send a mental message for her to touch him too — undress him too.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to come to her senses. Out of this ectasis. But she could not. His work on her neck was becoming troublesome, not mentioning his roaming hands. She was never touched by man lovingly, but she could not deny that he is making her heart skip just by teasing her.

Her small shaky fingers finally reached to the buttons whilst he was abusing her chest with hot kisses. She unbuttoned the first one, then the second until she reached the last. “That’s it baby.” He encouraged her to continue slipping his shirt down from his body.

He straightened himself and looked deeply into her eyes, his voice filled with desire and longing. “I love you.” Said Yoongi when he slowly slid his hand in between them cupping her clothed heat. Millions of little butterflies erupted in her lower belly, her breath hitched, silent moan coming out of her swollen lips when he started to rub circles, moving her clitoris through the fabric. She could feel herself leaning into him, her body responding to his touch.

The room was filled with an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. He caressed her back until he reached the opening of her western style cone bra that she wore under the dress. Popping it open her eyes snapped open too. But the pleasure was overshadowing her sound judgment, and he knew she would at some point try to resent him a little, that’s why he did not hesitate to throw it the same direction as her qipao, not wasting time and taking her already hard nipple into his mouth. Her eyes widened; pupils dilated.

He was taking his sweet time loving her every inch before he laid her down on the bed, hovering above her. Dominating her. Yoongi’s hands moved with a gentle urgency, his kisses becoming more fervent as their passion ignited. He hooked his fingers into her undergarments, not giving her a chance to protest when he quickly pulled them down her legs, tepid air hitting her centre.

It’s when he went to spread her legs touching her knees she took his wrist into her small hand, looking deep down into his eyes, tears swelling in, realisation hitting her. Yoongi did not seem to be angry or displeased. He understood why this action triggered her and therefore he led her hands to his belt, giving her a chance to yet again give him her consent to proceed. He wanted her to fall in love with him, not to fear him. He dreaded the day when he will have to use different measures to convince, she is his woman and no one else can touch her.

The little rat was a big mistake. Yoongi did not expect him to go as far as to attempt to rape her. But he knew that the boy was coming. He knew it’s Yakuza’s move, and he knew when they would strike,and he was ready. What he wasn’t ready for was Chan-yeol’s betrayal. Nobody is betraying Kkangpae Min, nor no one will dare to touch his wife after what he will do to the traitor.

“You’re alright, baby.” He attempted to assure her, putting her small hands on his belt. Y/N’s fingers were yet again shaking when she was undoing his belt. She was now fully aware of her laying naked body. She could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin.

As Yoongi’s belt came undone, he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength and resilience that radiated from her. She had endured so much in such a short span of time, yet here she was, willingly surrendering herself to him.

He pulled down the pants, together with his undergarments. A loud thud followed once they fell down to the floor. He bent down to her belly and placed a small kiss just below her belly button and one slightly lower to her yet uninhabited womb.

“I need to help you relax your muscles a little.” Said he. She felt his hot breath on her inner thighs, shaking in his hold. He slid his hand down to her core yet again, touching her without any barrier for the first time. Y/N took a deep breath and another one when he slid his finger down her folds and up, making her pussy produce wet juices. His lips were on her collarbone when he unexpectedly slid his index finger inside her making her moan loudly, yelp even.

“Shhh…” He cooked at her, kissing her lips passionately, while thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her heat. She could feel a prick of pain in the area Yoongi’s finger occupied. Y/N’s moans became a mix of moderate pain and pleasure altogether.

She could feel his other hand move away from caressing her hip to his member which he started to slowly stroke. Y/N could see that he was more than ready — his cock big, stiff and red, pre-cum leaking from its tip. He wanted to dive into her heat badly. But he needed to stretch her out a little more, so she won’t suffer that much pain. Yoongi smiled when he spotted her eyeing his body through half-lidded eyes, panting, yet being focused specifically on his manhood.

He towered above her, pulling his finger out of her heat. Sudden emptiness surrounded her walls that were finally adjusting to the intruder. She gasped when she felt his hands pulling her closer to him. Her legs were on each side of his hips. Y/N observed his body, his toned skin, slight muscles, his well-built torso — all the way down his V line, adorned with soft hair.

She snapped out of her thought train once he climbed on top of her and pressed his manhood in between her folds, sliding it up and down, covering it in her juices. Moan escaped her mouth once he put a little bit of pressure, stimulating her clitoris. He moved his hips slowly, trying to hold himself to not to thrust it in just yet.

He raised his left hand and intertwined his fingers with hers pinning it above her head while attacking her lips again. Y/N’s hand instinctively slapped his chest trying to push him away just a little, but his little smirk into her lips assured her that he wanted that kind of reaction from her.

And when she awaited it the least, he thrust himself into her, making her bite down his lower lip. He groaned at the sensation. His lip was bleeding, but he could not care less. “No—” She let go of his lip and an incoherent sound came out of her throat, eyes welling up with tears.

“Yoongi, it hurts too much.” She stated the obvious, crying whilst trying to breath. Enormous heat wave just hit her, and she was desperately wanting to make her head stop spinning.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered into her lips, trying to take his own breathing under control. She feels like heaven to him. His everlasting home. His love. This is where he was supposed to be all his life.

He tried to move very slowly, making her cry even more, but he couldn't stop. “It will stop I promise.” He kissed her tears away, stretching her walls to the fullest with his manhood. Silently moaning into her lips.

It took quite a while for her to adjust to the stretch and tension, fullness inside of her. Yoongi explored every inch of her naked body, his hands caressing her with a gentleness that belied his previous actions. In this moment, she was not defined by the traumas of her past or the expectations of their marriage. Their bodies moved in perfect sync once the pain yielded a little.

The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled loud moans and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the fireplace mirrored the growing heat between them, intensifying the pleasure that coursed through their veins.

Yoongi’s movements became a little faster, more deliberate to draw as much pleasure from her as he could. He wanted to show her that their union was not solely physical but a one of love. With each whisper of reassurance and each gentle caress, he aimed to erase any lingering fears and insecurities that she held.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy after a while, he could feel her shaking against him. But not from fear but from pleasure. He mustered what he could to take her over the edge for the very first time in her life. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach tying somewhat knot that she wanted them to release badly. Her hand slipped into his hair, tucking it tightly whilst he was thrusting into her heat, making her moan loudly into his mouth. He was very close, but he wanted her to come with her. And as they were reaching the peak of passion, their bodies trembling with pleasure, Yoongi held Y/N close, their hearts beating in sync.

Their moans became louder and louder every second they were nearing the summit. “Yoongi—!” she screamed his name out when she was sure the knot was about to burst. “Baby—” he could not even finish a sentence he meant to say once she came undone under him, trembling from the pleasure, her mouth agape, eyes tightly closed — her walls still vibrating around him. Not even a second later his loud cry followed as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside of her. His eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes, she was already looking at him, her mouth still slightly open as she was panting. Her eyes seemed glossy but so were his. He caressed the side of her thigh whilst gently kissing her swollen lips, whispering how much he loves her.

Slowly pulling out of her heat, substituting with his fingers plunging his cum mixed with hints for crimson blood, back into her heat he lowered his body yet again to her belly. Kissing where he assumed her womb was, he whispered a prayer.

“May the Lord bless us with a miracle.”

I N T E R L O G U E

The father’s rage reverberated in the confined space of the car. “You could not have just fucking waited, you little prick!” his frustration boiling over.

Still grappling with the pain of his missing arm, the one-handed son shot back defiantly, blood seeping through the bandages “You said everything would work out in our favour!”

The car they were sitting in was slowing down until it stopped altogether. The older male looked around in confusion. They were nowhere near the docks for their escape to Fukuoka.

“It would if you’d just shut your damn cock instincts, you stupid boy!” the Yakuza leader hissed, attempting to keep his anger in check.

Blinded by fury, he failed to notice the car taking a series of wrong turns, leading them into a desolate no man’s land. When the driver turned to face them, blood reached his ears.

“Kkangpae Min sends you good wishes on your journey to hell.”

to be continued

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: f finally yall!!!!! as I already said this chapter was a lot, ain't gonna lie about that, but everything is going according to the plan so don't worry. This was my first smut in english and I'm so scared of yall's reaction... Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was an emotional roller-coaster to write, especially the implied non-con and smut after all the reader had to endure, poor gal. I love to see your comments that basically express that you understand the story's essence and for that I love you all so much ♥ We'll see what will happen in next chapter :))

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter! Love you bae!!!!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts

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OR WHAT?: ERIK “KILLMONGER” STEVENS X BLACK PLUS SIZE READER (NSFW)

SUMMARY: You and your boyfriend's arguments almost always ended the same way.

Warning: arguing, yelling, gaslighting, angry sex, rough sex, oral sex, choking, spanking, etc. 18+ only, read at your own risk. Minors DO NOT INTERACT!

Note: He’s a little toxic guys ngl 🙄

Erik pulled your chair out for you, waiting until you sat down to push you toward the table.

This was your first date night in weeks, you usually tried to do at least one a week but your schedules hadn't been aligning lately. You were lucky to be able to squeeze this one in.

Erik grabbed your hand, kissing it gently, eyes never leaving yours as you began to tell him about your day.

You were interrupted when your waitress strolled over, giving you a once over, a tight lipped smile on her face.

Once she looked at Erik her entire demeanor changed, eyes widnening slightly before she composed herself, straightening up her posture.

"Can i get you guys something to drink? Wine?" Her eyes trailed Erik's frame, clearly checking him out.

"Wine is fine, red." You answered for the both of you, firm tone and forced smile.

"Alright." She jotted that down not even bothering to look at you before walking off.

Your eyes followed her, boring holes into her back.

"You good babe?" Your boyfriend raised a brow.

"Yeah." You shook your head huffing out a sigh.

"What are you eating?" He asked looking over the menu.

"Maybe the honey glazed salmon with mashed potatoes and asparagus, that sounds good." You answered.

"Damn it really does." He kissed his teeth.

"Can't make up your mind?" You laughed.

"Not all at." He sat the menu down as the waitress approached again.

"Ready to order?" She had her body turned toward Erik, now completely ignoring your presence.

"I need a little help deciding, what do you recommend?" He asked.

"Well our ribeye is pretty good, Lobster tail is divine too." She leaned over the table pointing at the items she listed, cleavage on full display.

You were so angry you swore there was steam coming from your ears, you did your best to keep your composure, not wanting to cause a scene in the restaurant.

"Ribeye sounds good." Erik closed the menu leaning back.

"How would you like that cooked?" She bit the end of her pen seductively.

"Medium, side of mashed potatoes with extra butter please. Oh and what did you want baby?" He looked at you.

"Honey glazed salmon, mashed potatoes as well and asparagus." You repeated your order glaring at the woman as she scribbled it down, again, not even bothering to look at you.

"Be right back with that." She bit her lip taking one last look at Erik before walking off, making sure to add a little extra swing in her hips.

It didn't take long for the food to come out, your piping hot plate being placed in front of you making your mouth water.

"Let me know if you need anything else." The lady winked at Erik.

You stabbed your fork into your fish aggressively, using it to cut yourself a piece.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the fish practically melted on your tongue, your anger melting along with it.

"Is it good baby?" Erik chuckled watching you take another big bite.

"So good, you have to try some." You gathered some more on your fork, holding it to his lips.

He accepted it, eyes lighting up as the flavor hit his tongue.

"Yours is better than mine." He huffed.

He cut you a piece of his steak, placing his fork in your mouth.

"Mmm yours is good too baby." You closed your eyes in satisfaction.

You spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other's company, chatting and laughing.

Once you finished your food and the both of you were ready to leave Erik called the waitress over for the check. She nearly tripped over herself practically sprinting to the back, then to your table.

"Desperate bitch." You muttered under your breath.

You snatched the check from her hand, giving her no other reason to drag out her time at your table.

She glared at you before walking off, going to serve another couple, hopefully she didn't eye fuck that woman's boyfriend too.

Your eyes scanned the bill curiously , wondering how much your food was gonna cost but when you got to the end of it your eyes widened, blood beginning to boil upon seeing the woman's number scribbled on the paper, a messy heart drawn next to it.

"Is something wrong?" Erik leaned forward, confusion lacing his features.

"The bitch left you her number, maybe you should give her a call later." You threw it at him, grabbing your purse and storming out of the restaurant.

"Wanna tell me what that was all about?" He slid into the driver seat, starting the car up.

You crossed your arms, eyes not moving from the window.

"So you just gone ignore me?" He narrowed his eyes at you.

You didn’t budge.

He scoffed backing out of the parking lot and speeding off.

The two of you rode in silence, Erik occasionally cutting his eyes at you, jaw clenched in annoyance.

At the apartment

You slipped your heels off by the door, walking to the kitchen and setting your purse on the counter.

"You're really not gonna talk to me?" He stood beside you frowning.

"I'm not in the mood Erik." You walked toward the bedroom, taking off your earrings and sitting them on your nightstand.

"You cannot seriously be mad at me about what that waitress did, you know damn well i wasn't gonna keep her number." He followed you slipping off his jacket.

"I don't know, you didn't exactly stop her other advances did you?" You laughed bitterly pulling your dress over your head and tossing it on the floor.

"You're acting like i flirted with her, i didn't pay her any fucking attention." He spat getting angry.

"No you didn't, but you sat there and let her flirt with you! Undressing you with her eyes, shoving her fucking titties in your face." You glared at him.

"Why you always gotta be so insecure." He shook his head, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"Don't try to flip this on me, it has nothing to do with me being ‘insecure’ but it has everything to do with you allowing her to disrespect me! You could've checked her, told her to back off, hell you could've asked for another waitress but you didn't!" You yelled.

"You're overreacting as usual!" He threw his hands up.

"Fuck you Eric." You shook your head in disbelief.

"What?" His head snapped up.

"I said fuck you."  You walked over to him, getting in his face.

"Watch your fucking mouth." He spoke lowly, eyes darkening.

"Or what?" You challenged.

You tapped Erik’s thigh as he thrusted into your mouth roughly, dick touching the back of your throat making you gag repeatedly.

“Nah ain’t no tapping out now, didn’t i tell you i was gone put that filthy ass mouth to good use?” He slapped your hands away, grabbing the sides of your head and speeding up.

You began to tear up, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, your throat was definitely gonna be sore tomorrow.

“Get on the bed and get on your hands and knees now.” He growled.

You scrambled up from the floor climbing on top of the mattress and getting into position as you were told.

“Spread your legs!” His voice boomed echoing off the bedroom walls.

You jumped spreading them quickly.

“You gone regret talking to me like that, imma make you eat those words.” He leaned down whispering in your ear, body looming over you.

He lined himself up with your entrance, slamming into you making you scream, your body jolting forward.

He pounded into you mercilessly, toned thighs smacking against yours plump ones.

“Pleaseee.” You begged placing your hand on his torso, pushing him away.

“Nah, shut up and take that shit.” His rough hands collided with your ass cheeks leaving behind a stinging sensation.

You whimpered, face buried into the soft sheets, arms crossed behind your back, wrist being held tightly.

“Why so quiet now huh? Where’d all that mouth go?” He shifted slightly, hitting your g spot at the perfect angle making your toes curl.

He stopped briefly flipping you over on your back and slipping inside you once more, one hand gripping your throat while the other threw your leg over his shoulder.

“I- i’m…” Your mouth hung open desperately trying to string together a sentence, your brain and body too overwhelmed by pleasure.

“What you got something to say? Speak up i can’t hear you.” He spoke mockingly, smug smirk on his face.

“I’m sorryyy oh my god.” You squeezed your eyes shut as your as your orgasm came hard and fast.

“It’s a little too late for apologies baby, and you just made a mess.” He shook his head looking down as you creamed all over his dick.

Your eyes became fuzzy and you felt your body go limp, already spent.

“We’re nowhere near finished.” Erik’s face came into view, an evil grin on his lips.

You were four? five? orgasm’s in when you felt him twitch inside you, signaling that his own release was coming soon.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck leaving sloppy kisses and small bites as he came undone, managing a few more small thrusts before completely collapsing on top of you.

“Still mad?” He whispered against your skin.

“No.” You answered quietly.

“Me neither.” He pulled out of you slowly before heading to the bathroom.

He came back with a warm, damp towel, prying your legs open gently and wiping your sensitive core before taking it back into the bathroom and tossing it in the basket with the rest of your dirty clothes.

“I really am sorry.” You spoke as he snuggled up behind you, pulling you against him.

“No i am, you were right, i should’ve never allowed her to get comfortable making passes at me and disrespecting you. I didn’t have your back tonight when i should have. I let you down, im sorry.” He spoke tenderly kissing your shoulder softly.

“I appreciate that baby.” You turned around pulling him into a sweet kiss.

You fell asleep in each other’s arms happy and content.

A/N - Erik is hand’s down the sexiest marvel villain, i don’t make the rules guys. Anywayssss I hope you like this spicy fic. 🌻