#i would let this woman trample all over me

[todorokies]

RUMOR HAS IT - suguru geto

✩࿐ the streets of london have now been considered a danger for citizens when a blood hunger vampire prowls looking for their next lady in waiting . . .

contents: very suggestive, fem!reader, vampire!geto, geto is bewitched by you(r blood), nanami cameo (yippee), nineteenth century gothic victorian era, this leans towards the thriller side, reader is a bit naive, a wee bit of manipulation, blood drinking, usage of ‘m’lady’, inspired by the song ‘rumor has it’ by adele & this tweet, 2.5k words

a/n: there is a lot of imagery written !!! i truly hope u all like it, reblogs & supportive feedback is welcome ik the wc is a lot but pls bare with me :”) . . . apart of @kentopedia’s ‘love through the ages’ collab

the sun has begun to shift into its everlasting transition of casting soft orange hues of light that are softly entangled with a dark shade of blue that covers up above. the moon had tucked its companion away for the time being as it began to come into view.

the current state of main street however didn’t reflect the tranquillity of peace; the town clock had loudly reverberated alerting the public of the danger that would soon lurk.

citizens both young and old trampled out of buildings leaving a simple gust of wind in their wake to reach their residences.

a curfew had recently been implemented by the town council in order to reduce the sudden influx —dubbed as animal attacks— of women being found lifeless on the cold streets, with their blood being completely drained from their bodies.

but alas, the troublesome rumours of the attacks being performed by a person rather than an animal, rattled in, heightening the unpleasantries.

the rotten smell of fear lingers in the air with the pumping adrenaline coursing through the towns folks veins. if the perpetrator weren’t foolish enough, an entire course meal has been presented onto a platter for them.

“staring won’t do you any good if you end up dead.” nanami, your coworker, noted who was packing the last of the bakery’s unsold goods in a bag to be taken home.

you quickly drew away from the windowsill, “doesn’t the site of it all make you miserable. this new curfew has done nothing but made everyone even more frightened.”

nanami’s features softened and pursed his lips in a thin line before sighing. “the curfew is sensible in hindsight, but when rules are enforced people have a sudden urge to break them, mainly to figure out what animal—”

“—or person,” you sharply cut him off which causes his eyebrows to crinkle.

“i mean, let’s face it, what kind of animal leaves two perfectly clean puncture wounds on the neck and abandons the body as it is without any carnage?”

a beat follows before you continue, “this is obviously the work of some mad scientist in town looking to make a name for themselves.”

he sighs, “animal or …person, you shouldn’t be standing here chatting with me about it.”

his eyes twinkle with remorse whilst handing the bag of baked goods over to you, “i could chaperone you to your residence, you do live on the outskirts of town. i deeply worry about your safety.”

you lightheartedly scoff, politely waving off the suggestion. “nonsense kento, i always seem to have luck on my side, the walk home will be uneventful as always.”

he frowns at this.

you can be extraordinarily stubborn at the most inappropriate times.

“besides what would society think once they see an unwed woman getting escorted by the opposite sex. you should hurry home yourself! send my kind regards to yuuji for me.”

you bunch up the detailed lace of your overflowing gown in one hand while holding the brown bag of pastries in the other.

swiftly scurrying off into the abandoned streets, “do take care of yourself!”

“get home safely and hurry before the streetlights turn on!” nanami yells out the door before locking up the establishment and heading on his own way.

the cobblestone beneath your feet painfully ached and crumbled apart with each passing step you took. shutters from other houses forcefully swung open from the wind that picked up overtime, soon a ghastly fog began to move in, hindering some of your vision.

you truthfully dreaded this. nanami’s offer is still mulled in the back of your head, you mentally slap yourself for dismissing a comforting and preferably safer option of returning home.

however, dwelling on the what if’s have never been your cup of tea, instead you attempt to take in the scenery of the town in it’s glory.

the eerie atmosphere reminded you of an agatha christie novel you’ve once read. the fond memory warms you up in the dead of night.

soon your manor appears into view. relief immediately washes over you, a small breath of air exited your lungs.

but then you hear it; an extra set of footsteps a mile or two from behind you that rippled the cement.

too heavy of a stride to be another woman in heels and too human-like to be a four legged animal. with each step you took, they would take on another, almost in sync to throw you off their suspicions.

you felt bare and exposed as the only thing that you could focus on was the tangible breeze rattling your bones, fingers turning numb and losing its feeling. your head buzzed considering the only two options to best handle the situation: continue the venture to your housing or confront the entity.

continuing your journey would result in the mysterious entity gaining knowledge of your location. whereas, standing idly waiting for the perpetrator’s next move would result in you being the newspaper’s front headliner.

you’ve concluded the mental battle with yourself on cutting through the woods and loosing whomever is behind you in the dust.

just as you were about to pick up your feet, a tap by a set of fingers rippled against your shoulder causing you to shriek.

“m’lady, i believe you dropped this.” a sultry voice booms through your ears that belonged to a man so majestic you couldn’t comprehend. your breath staggers while your mouth hang slightly agape.

he was as pale as a lilith in its full bloom but still managed to glisten under the moonlight. monolid eyes sharpened that showcased nothing but intensity and gluttony.

you couldn’t dare away, especially not when his gaze has your flesh burning to the touch as heat pools between your legs, an endless void of lust and mystery.

somehow breaking out of his enchantment, you regain consciousness, blinking away the blurriness and swiftly take the handkerchief he handed to you and stuff it in your dress pocket.

“o-oh, thank you kind sir,” your words heavily slurs past your lips.

his overwhelming aura seemingly switches, presenting more of a laid back approach when speaking to you.

“what’s a dream like you doing roaming the streets at this hour?” he inquired.

it’s almost like whiplash— fear surging from every portion of your body to feeling a sense of ease with his presence around.

your face warms up. subconsciously picking at the skin that surrounds your nail beds. “just trying to make my way home, i had picked up a late shift from—”

“the bakery in town square, correct?”

taking a step, his taller frame leaned a quarter into your personal space suddenly being consumed by his aroma. sweetness mixed with a hint of sandalwood and lavender.

his fingers weakly pranced around a single strand of your hair that had been loose, meticulously swirling it about in a specific way that only pleased him.

only then were you able to come about his long raven locks that were styled in a charming half-do that seemingly blended in with the sinful sombre of the midnight sky.

your pulse amplified, picking up like the speed of lightning. your hands soon began accumulating sweat just by a single question.

despite town square serving the population of two countries bound together, not once have you had the pleasure of encountering this man.

he was far too bewitching to grace the status of a commoner. no, he must be a figure of royalty or at least had rich wealth flowing through his blood, but he showcases no obvious signs of luxury.

just who was this man exactly?

he watches you regain control over your psyche, backing away which lets the strand of hair he possessed on his finger seemingly bounce free.

“enlighten me. how do you possess knowledge of the location of my employment? my eyes have never seen someone of the likes of you before.”

he senses utter hostility from you. the entire cobbled street reeks of your fear. he can practically taste your appetizing disdain on the tip of his tongue.

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth to conceal the withering moan that elicited from his core; you’re unsettled by him which only fuels his erogenous.

he playfully surrenders his hands in the air as if you had just caught him in an obtuse act, “what, pray tell, are you insinuating?”

you scoff, “do you take me for a mockery?” your voice doesn’t waver, eyebrows cinched together with lips into a firm line.

he simply tuts, “only a well put together woman like yourself could gain employment at such a high end bakery that stands in town square. i based such an assumption off my judgement . . . forgive me, m’lady.”

your eyes cautiously scan his face to detect any signs of playfulness that went against his explanation. when none was present, it was your cue to ease up on your suspicions.

with a sharp intake of air, your tense shoulders unwind themselves from your ears as you straighten out your dress trying to knead at any wrinkles.

the bakery in town has built a famous name for itself, being known as one of the most ancient buildings standing tall, as well as offering fresh pastries throughout many wars and battles.

different hierarchies from all across the globe have made it their mission to invest in a trade deal of importing the bakery’s goods in exchange for many benefits.

“then again, you find yourself situated on this street conversing with an utter stranger during after hours. so pray tell, who exactly is the jester here?” he dryly asks.

the warm energy circulating between the two of you came to a sudden halt as the tension quickly grew cold.

his voice is fervent. a barbaric ignorance flows naturally in his tone as if he was challenging you, which is much different than how he addressed your inquiry.

truthfully suguru was growing impatient by the minute. he has worked all of the charms in the book but you still haven’t given him an opening for what he wanted the most. your body, soul and most importantly; your blood.

he salivated at the sight of the minuscule veins on your neck becoming more prominent when your voice raises an obtuse or two.

the excruciating torment of his body thumping with thirst made his head throb. his tongue swirled hungrily around his sharp left fang in anticipation. 

if you had blinked, you would’ve missed how he traveled at the speed of light. a gust of wind swept through the streets as a strong swooshing of air caused the ends of your dress to get caught up in the wake. suddenly, you were face to face again with the mystery man, his nose ever so gently grazing yours, feeling his cold breath onto your lips.

his eyes carefully scans your features, taking notice of the crease between your eyebrows. “you aren’t aware of my name yet you give me your time of day? or rather night that is? i feel honoured.” he purrs.

your heart collapses to your feet. what in god’s name were you doing?

allowing yourself to get seduced by a nameless maniac on the street at the devil’s hour. letting your head get filled to the brim with such deception and trickery. your bread must’ve gone stale and you hadn’t noticed until now how terribly your feet ached from standing for so long.

your brain screamed at you to pick up your feet and dash out of a sickly situation you’ve unfortunately found yourself in. but to no avail your soles stood firmly in place, you pitied yourself for still being under his aphrodisiac.

your eyes sting as tears begin to well up into the base of your waterline. he shushes you by lightly tapping his index fingers against your bottom lip then leans into the shell of your ear, “you were the most naive out of others yet the most challenging one, what is your secret, m’lady?”

the only thing you could muster up in the moment was a faint, “p-please don’t hurt me…”

to that, suguru’s current expression gets replaced by a look of genuine remorse. he smiles fondly, his eyes forming into crescent moons. “you mustn’t worry, i have different plans for you. now be a darling and tilt your head for me.”

his eyes glowed a crimson hue that casted a reflection in your own eyes. his divine string of words compelled you to follow his demand, having no conscious influence over your own actions.

he could see your arteries viciously pumping oxygen. unstable hollow breaths depart from your plump lips.

what a delightful sight you are.

finally, his fangs penetrate your fragile skin causing goosebumps to arise upon impact as angry scarlett red seeps out of the two puncture holes he’d created.

you gasp, your head is frantically bubbling with heat as your knees buckle, static shoots through your joints feeling vibrations all over your body.

he gently cradles the back of your head with one hand using his grip to better his angle on his landscape. drowsiness consumes you whole. feeling yourself slowly slipping into a labyrinth that only the man in front of you has the key to.

your whimpers and soft pants fill the air. your stomach soon coils with a pleasant sensation of pleasure, you’ve truly gone mad as you bite your lip to cover up the choked up moans from the pleasurable aches of pain.

your eyes roll back to the sky, mentally counting the stars until your body decides to shut down what leftover functions it had left.

your eyes softly flutter open, wincing almost immediately from the dim overhead lap that shines directly in your face.

you’re currently lying on top of the broody velvet red loveseat that resided in your manor’s foyer. how you got home is beyond your comprehension.

suddenly the horrific memories of this particular night floods in your head like a tsunami.

that man… his fangs…the blood.

your hand quickly flies towards the area of the wound that resided on your neck, which to your surprise, is covered by a heavily padded gauze that will soon need to be changed once you get up.

who or what brought you home and tended to your wound? was it that man or maybe he had left you on the streets, barely alive when another lost soul roaming at the witching hour took you home.

you spot a glass of water on the floor that had a note taped onto it next to your bagged pastries. you cautiously pick up the glass to hydrate your overly dry throat then carefully peel the paper off the glass to read the note.

the contents of the note reads:

i have seeked high and low for the purest form of life, to find a companion worthy enough to indulge me in this wretched world of misery but yet, you were found from right under my nose.

your purity sings to me like a songbird o’holiest of thee. a crystallized soul patiently waiting for a body to mold.

your blood is as rare as black dahlia, hidden deep within the nooks of clouded nostalgia. your pastel beauty is the cure to my everlasting torment in hell.

i will return for you, my love.

always and forever yours, suguru.

tags: @cawwn @osaemu @yunymphs @megumimania @dollria @maeby-cursed @get0

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

This is Her Trying

sum: she sold out every value she holds dear, even a person. That happens to be you. So, one night after Voit’s little game, she speeds to your apartment in hopes you’ll still want her.

(is there a lot of music references? Yes.)

WARNING: BIG ANGSTY, smoking, some fluff?

Emily saw this coming, with the way everything was happening. The BAU hadn’t taken up a case they couldn’t solve, it just seems that now they’ve met their match. Emily didn’t want it to be true, no, she just couldn’t accept that. She was too prideful to give up.

That also meant doing everything in her power to solve this case, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of the law. She hated that she even considered doing it, so why do it at all? That was a question she asked herself often. Sometimes she sat in her chair wondering if Hotch would be disappointed in her. Or if he would tell her that she ‘needn’t worry’ even though she should.

In the midst of all this ‘Gold Star’ business happening, she was also pushing you away. Not noticing the hurt facial expression you made at her clearly not wanting your presence. She pushed you away so much that she had forgotten how much peace you’d bring her. Even Rossi had warned her to go home but she never did listen, she did what she thought was best. But sometimes she couldn’t think for herself.

—

“Shouldn’t you head home to see the Mrs?” Rossi asked, driving them back after Emily had gotten arrested. The truth was, she wanted to go home, she was just too scared that you too would be disappointed in her, and she’d rather not have the person she loved the most think ill of her. “She knows I’m out, it’s fine..” The silver-haired woman grumbled, picking at her thumb nail again. Someday she’d get over the whole thumb thing but now was not the time. All that she was focused on was Brian Garrity being on the top of her list to be killed off if she ever did spiral into madness; which she was already on the brink of.

Dave looked at her with this face, it was his ‘I know you better than you think, please don’t lie to me right now’ face. Emily huffed, groaning as she flopped her head into her hands. “It’s been almost a week and a half, Emily. A hello or hug would suffice” He tutted, even after all these years he still had to teach her fatherly advice.

“She’ll survive, Dave, she’s not going anywhere” Emily seethed, her emotions slightly breaking loose, the Italian took note of her behavior. As he pulled back into the parking lot, he stopped the engine, turning to look at her with a soft expression.

“If I’ve learned anything from my marriages is, never make them wait for you. Because the hardest feeling is choosing whether to wait or give up” He says, exiting the car first to let Emily think.

—

The Unit Chief sat on the rooftop again, the cigarette she was smoking, balanced between her fingers. She only smoked when she was really stressed, that seemed to be almost every day now. You had told her to stop smoking but, old habits die hard.

Ever since that call she had about being on restricted duty she felt like she was completely under the water, she couldn’t breathe. The feeling on being dragged down over and over again was starting to get to her. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo but it was starting to feel like her last. She kept telling herself to keep pushing and they’d solve this but maybe, for once, they’ve gotten a case they won’t figure out.

The BAU was crumbling around them, the public was already trampling on the name. But if they didn’t figure this out, what was the point of anything? What was the point of all this work if she couldn’t even save herself?

How could she protect her team when her choices were the ones hurting them? She’d been dying inside since Bailey’s death. She couldn’t give up now, she had to figure this out so he didn’t die in vain. But she wanted to give up, it was so much easier to lay down and die.

This isn’t how she imagined she’d end up. A broken marriage, at least she thought so, a broken team, a broken case, everything was tumbling down and she didn’t have the energy to build them back up anymore. She always wondered how some people could die with so much happiness accepting that they didn’t do everything they wanted to. That was one of the qualities that made you fall for her.

She didn’t stop till she got what she wanted. That’s how you agreed to go on one date with her. She was insistent that she was the one for you. At first you didn’t want to, not wanting to be with someone so ambitious since it could end badly, later she showed you that you were the only one she wanted.

Letting out a shaking breath, Emily looked below, the who-ing of the owls seemed to be her only company that night. The stars were shining above her, she was jealous of them. How could they live so peacefully without worry. They were taunting her with their beauty.

Almost like the first time you and her met. She smiled at the memory, her time of youth escaped her but she never seemed to forget it.

~~

You were one of Garcia‘s friends, she met you during one of her baking lessons, and got to know you during one of her cooking lessons. You were skilled in both, your nimble fingers kneading the dough, your hands holding the sharp knife as you made precise cuts on the vegetables.

Emily could’ve never been prepared for the day you’d given Penelope a visit at work. She practically choked on her coffee the moment you walked in. You were stunning, your eyes soft like the morning rain, your face free from blemishes and impurities, even your hands looked extremely agile. Your presence alone cast an ethereal radiance around the room. “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

Your brow arched, signaling her to introduce herself, Emily quickly stumbled to her feet with a goofy smile. She was enchanted by your shining grin. Internally, she was panicking so bad she couldn’t even think about what comes out of her mouth next, she was too busy staring at your tits.

“Prentits, Emily” she said a little too confidently, she slapped a hand over her mouth as Morgan barrel rolled on the floor in laughter. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope were snickering in the background. Hotch and Reid stood with shocked expressions, for once, Aaron had cracked a smile.

”I’m sorry! I meant Emily Prentiss, it’s nice to meet you as well” her voice got more silent with each word, the red hue over taking her face. You laughed, “it’s okay, Emily,” you leaned into her ear, “but next time just ask to look at them.”

~~

Emily snorted to herself, still looking into the dark nothingness below her. A soft chuckle escaped her, even the darkness seemed more peaceful than whatever she had going on. In those few minutes that she had stared into the oblivion, she realized, it wasn’t too late to fix things. At least with you anyway, she just hoped that you’d still want her after everything she had put you through.

The guilt of leaving you alone for so long clawed at her. As she now hurried down the halls, she thought of you. That smile that could make her melt, the laugh that could infect anybody, and those arms that held her close when no one understood her.

Even in the car, the first thing that played was your favorite song. She slammed her fist against the console, the pain was agonizing but that was the least of her problems. Her fingers gripped around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white and cramped. As she speeded home, she realized that she dearly missed your lips. Your soft, delicate, and loving lips. Even the first time the both of you had said you loved each other, she knew that you were gonna kiss her in a way that was gonna screw her up forever.

At the door of your shared house, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, her hands turned clammy. It was like she was sent back to when she was ask you out on a date again. Except this time she was asking for your forgiveness.

She brought out her house keys, unlocked the door, and stepped in. The inside was still dimly lit so she knew you were awake, probably staying up late again. “Baby? I’m home!” Emily called out, shutting the door behind her, making sure to lock it before venturing deeper into the home. She heard shuffling from upstairs, it stopped for a moment before the sound of your footsteps made their way down. She was nervous, the smell of smoke on her clothes. It stood out from the scent of the rest of the house.

It smelt of you and your soft smelling vanilla perfume. You smiled seeing her, though the emotions in you remained conflicted. “Em, you’re home, I thought you were gonna be working late again” You chuckled lightly, nothing was funny. She messed up and you knew it, she knew it. So, why couldn’t you just go ahead and scream your feelings out. That’s what you wanted to do days ago, but not now that you see her face…you don’t feel so angry anymore.

“No, I needed to come home. I needed to see you, I’m-” Emily abruptly stopped her sentence to swallow the sound of her breaking voice, she never minded being emotional in front of you. Now, she couldn’t bear to cry in front of you. She felt she didn’t deserve to, you’re the victim here, after all. It was selfish to take that away from you. She was selfish. That’s all she had been for weeks now.

“I’m going insane, y/n. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I’m not alright.” She admitted it, she was scared and confused. She felt like some little kid in the corner after doing something bad and not knowing it was. She didn’t know how to cope with any of this. It was too big to do alone. She couldn’t ask you to help her, not when she’s already taken so much from you.

As Emily’s eyes began to sting, the tears pooling. Yet, she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, it wasn’t right. “You smell like smoke again, what happened this time?” You asked, brushing past her and walking into the kitchen. You fixed Emily a glass of cold water, “I messed up some case, I’m on restricted duty. The BAU is Dave’s now. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She said through a shaky sigh, leaning on the kitchen island, the marble cold to the touch. You were slightly shocked that she would actually tell you, most of the time she wouldn’t tell you anything. You understood that even knowing a little bit could endanger you both so you never pressed. “Have you eaten?”

Emily crossed her arms, sniffling and looking at her with a blank expression. You knew that look, she was trying to profile you. “Emily, if you’re trying to profile me, it’s not gonna work.” You said sternly, getting the ingredients out for beef and broccoli, one of her favorites.

“Okay, I’m sorry…” she replied, biting her lip. “No, I haven’t” she added after a moment of silence. You smiled to yourself, “Good, I haven’t had dinner yet”

The silence was oddly comfortable, it gave Emily a sense of false comfort. She watched you cook as she idly played with her fingers. You could’ve called it a night ages ago and gone to bed not talking to her at all. Instead, you chose to stay and make food. You always stayed silent when you were mad, you came from a home with screaming being the norm. You hated yelling at someone out of anger, you hated it with your heart and soul. Even now if someone yells at you in anger, the tears will pool and won’t stop streaming down your face. Your breathing turns shallow and the tightness in your chest the least of your concerns.

As you finished cooking the food, the steam drifted into the air, eventually filling up the whole kitchen. Both of you quickly ate the food, silently glancing at each ofher when the other ‘wasn’t’ looking. Emily didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to say anything.

The older woman went upstairs to change, and hopefully get a shower. It had been a few days since she’s had a good shower. One where she felt relaxed and fresh. You washed the dishes, humming to yourself as you thought about the situiation you were in. You wanted so badly to be angry with her but, there was something that kept you from feeling anything about what was happening. Your face would contort into an expression of anger but you didn’t feel it.

You completed the rest of the cleaning and headed upstairs, maybe you’d be able to get a good sleep tonight. You always slept best with Emily in bed with you, she just gave you a sense of comfort that no one else could give you.

Already in some pjs, you brushed your teeth and washed your face. With a heavy sigh, you pulled your body up to sit on the counter. You had grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media as you flossed with a floss pick. You heard the shower stop but you didn’t look up, too interested in a News article you read. It was an article about ‘Gold Star’. A case Emily was on, he was clearly dangerous and had already killed the spouse of one of his latest victims who was also a cop. That must’ve been why she’s been down at the office, at least, that’s what you heard from Pen.

“Damn it…” Emily muttered, pulling a silk robe over her thin pjs. Her hair was soaking wet, and her face free of makeup, she was looking for something. “Have you seen my towel?” She asked, looking at the rack then back inside the shower. You looked down and saw you were sitting on it, lifting a thigh, you grabbed it and handed it to her.

She smiled at you, drying her silver locks with the towel. Walking over to the sink, she began doing her skincare routine. You stared at her, a blank expression on your face, she looked so focused.

You felt the urge to reach out and touch her face when she finished, she looked like a supermodel in this light. I’m any light actually, she was a timeless beauty you couldn’t get enough of. That was when you felt it, the subtle shake of your hands, the sting of your eyes, the flips of your stomach, the drowning feeling, and the way you bit the inside of your cheek.

Emily looked at herself in the mirror before looking over at you with concern, your eyes filled with hurt. She hummed softly, placing a hand on yours, squeezing it as a way to ground you. “I love you, Emily Prentiss…so much that you piss me off,” You said with a hushed tone, as if you’d be scolded for speaking normally.

“I love you more, my precious girl” Emily kissed each of your knuckles, kissing up your arm as she moved to slip herself in between your legs. She eventually got up to kiss your lips, it was quick, a big dose of comfort, for Emily at least.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true…” You insisted, placing your hands on her shoulders, the robe damp from her wet hair. “You left me, for almost a whole week and a half with minimal to no contact, you didn’t even check in with me so I knew you were alive and breathing.”

Emily looked down in shame, she wished to take it all back. “I had to hold on to the hope that you were okay, and I had to get updates from the team, who you never seem to interact with anyway.” You sniffled, toying with her hair. “I know about this whole ‘Gold Star’ thing. The information went public, most of it anyway. So, please tell me what’s bothering you. Please…” You admitted, holding her face so she would look at you.

“Baby, Gold Star…he’s a dangerous man, after what happened with Don Bertoli” she paused, wiping her tears away, refusing to let them fall. She’s been doing that often now, you noticed since she was always comfortable crying around you. “I couldn’t handle you living in fear, I couldn’t handle us living in fear. A part of it was because I was so focused on this case, I hardly thought about anything else other than the case, and you. I know that sounds weird but, every decision I made was made because I thought I could protect you.” She kissed your palm, looking at you with the same adoration and love she had been for years, “If Don, this big muscular man, can’t stop him from killing his wife. How can I stop him?” She sobbed, hugging you close.

“Ever since this case even started, I changed so much. I hate it. I let a serial killer out of his cage to work among profilers like he meant something. I kept a secret from JJ that I shouldn’t have, I ruled over my team like a tyrant instead of working with them. I’m…turning into my mother, just like I thought I would. But the only question I have is…why haven’t you left me yet?” Emily sniffled, tears stains on your sleep attire. You pulled away from the hug and held her head, wiping away the tears with your thumbs.

She looked so fragile, like could crack of you touched her. You rarely saw her break, Emily was always the strong one even in the relationship. She took pride in opening jars, carrying bags, doing any sort of lifting. She also compartmentalized like her life depended on it because it kind of did.

”You are not going to be like your mother, you are my wonderful, amazing, ambitious, smart, hilarious, stunning, annoying wife. You’re my everything in one and I love you for it. I haven’t left you because I made a very important promise to be yours forever. I intend to keep that promise, no matter what. Also, last time I checked, you have the most awesome team. So, if you fess up and take responsibility, they’ll accept you. Remember that you have to earn that trust back but, I know you care.” Emily let out a choked sob, she loved you more than anything. What did she do to deserve you?

“When you were gone that long, I didn’t mind that much. Until you stopped texting me back, I didn’t hear from you for days. I panicked, thinking you were mad and I spiraled, every possible out come in my head played out beside for this” You said, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear.

“What I mean is, I’m not going to tell you that this was okay, what I am gonna tell you is that I love you despite what happened.” You pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she was hurting, you could tell from her face and mannerisms. You felt like you had spent a whole lifetime memorizing everything about her. Sometimes, it scared you. You knew things about her that even her team didn’t know, for you knew they’d never know.

With that, Emily burst into tears, hugging you tightly, pulling you as close to her as she could.

You’ve missed her dearly, nothing in existence or nonexistent could keep you from loving her. You feel every emotion at once yet none could rival the pure love you felt for the woman. She’s gone through hell & earth to have you. Now, you were ready to do the same for her.

She’s saved you from a maniac serial killer once, the least you could do was be here when you needed her. You knew she’d return the favor, you preferred to have her be alright before returning anything. After all, you taught middle schoolers for a living, you had your moments but thankfully there was never anything much.

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry” She sobbed, her head buried in between the crevice between your neck and shoulder. Her body slotted so perfectly with yours that you were convinced she was made for you. “I forgive you, always”

You felt her arms tighten around you, she sniffled looking up into your eyes. Pressing a kiss to your lips, she played with your hair, twirling it between her fingers.

She didn’t know what was waiting for her in the future, she was unsure of a lot of things. One thing was certain, that you were hers, and she was yours. She’d find a way to cross realities if it meant being with you.

As the night went on, both felt as though they could stay their forever. Intertwined. Sewn together. Forevermore.

—————

UHM. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.

This is a nice appetizer for all the fics I’m about to serve to you guysssss. I hope you enjoyed restricted duty Emily :)

[star-wrote]

Need

ao3 link

Character: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Prison Era

Summary: After somehow convincing Daryl to let you go on a hunt with him, you stop to admire a pretty flower. Little did you know, the pollen would have an… interesting effect on you.

Warnings: smut, swearing, sexual details, sex pollen??, insecurity on daryl’s part, a little fluffy, a little angsty, apparently no threat of walkers bc they get it on in the woods.

Word Count: 2,500 ish

18+

Convincing Daryl to let you tag along on a hunt was a task in itself. He was the closest thing you had to a best friend these days, so he knew how antsy you got when being behind the prison gates for too long. He felt the same way. That didn’t mean he was going to let you go out into possible danger any easier though. You practically had to drop to your knees and beg him to let you join, swearing you’d bring extra luck for him to catch a deer. Muttering something like “ain’t need no luck” under his breath, he eventually agreed to let you join. You pretended not to see his cheeks redden when you wrapped your arms around his neck in an excited hug.

That was about two hours ago. Now, you were following him through the forest as he tracked some animal. You were doing your best to keep quiet, given the fact that he had scolded you just about five minutes ago for walking too carelessly (whatever that means). You started to grow bored. Sure it was nice being away from the prison, but you figured your best friend would entertain you in at least some conversation. You should’ve known better, this was Daryl Dixon.

You were about to suggest playing a silly game of truth or truth when you saw something pink out of the corner of your eye. You paused and walked over, observing a beautiful flower that looked like it belonged to a storybook. Your internal battle of deciding whether or not to pick it was fast as you assumed a walker would just trample it anyway. So you picked it.

Daryl knew right away that you weren’t following him anymore, so he paused for a drink of water while he watched you get distracted by a flower. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile as he noticed you pick it and immediately bring it to your nose to inhale the scent. As you pulled it away from your face, he saw it left pink specks of pollen on your nose.

“Ya got a lil somethin’ on yer nose.”

Instead of a reply, he was met with a series of four loud sneezes.

“Jeez woman, gonna draw all the walkers in.”

You giggled, wiped your nose, and finally replied with a small, “sorry.”

“If yer done pickin’ flowers, let’s get back to trackin’ this deer,” he said as he grabbed his bag from where he placed it on the forest floor.

You gasped, “You didn’t tell me we were tracking a deer! I told you I would bring good luck.”

He rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day and muttered “stop.”

It started as an ache in between your legs. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant, but it was surprising how strong it was.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling of arousal. You were a girl who knew her own body. At least before the end of the world. There wasn’t enough time, safety, or privacy to bring yourself pleasure. Not to mention the lack of people throwing themselves at you.

Still, it was unfamiliar for you to feel so much arousal on a hunt with Daryl.

Daryl.

You found your gaze wandering to the archer taking sure steps in front of you. His shoulders seemed to be broader than normal… no, he was always this large. Your eyes went lower as you found yourself thinking about what else had to be large, accidentally letting out a whimper.

Daryl didn’t stop walking, just tossed a “ya okay?” over his shoulder.

You shook your head, as if it would cleanse your brain of the impure thoughts you had for your best friend, and answered.

“Yeah, sorry, just tripped over my feet. You know me, super clumsy haha.” Stop talking!

He just grunted in response. Phew.

You wondered if he would grunt like that while he was deep inside of you…

This time you actually did trip, bumping into the firm man in front of you. He whipped around and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Tha’ hell? What’s gotten into ya?”

Not you, sadly.

He looked at you more deeply and noticed your face was flushed pink like the flower you still held in your hand, and your chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Are ya okay? Ya bit?” He asked with a worried look as his eyes ran down your frame.

It wouldn’t make sense for you to have gotten bit, he was with you the entire time. No, it was something else.

You looked up at him with a glazed look in your eyes and got out the words “so hot.” You weren’t sure if you were talking about your body temperature or him at this point. His big hands on your shoulders felt as if they were burning holes through your skin. The ache between your legs had turned into a stabbing pain, and your lower stomach felt a different kind of hunger. Lust.

Daryl was beyond worried when he saw you drop your flower to clutch at your stomach. His eyes looked to the flower and recognition finally crossed his brain. Oh no.

He scooped you up bridal style, and you all but moaned. Now that he knew what was happening, a blush reached his face. He carried you to a nearby willow tree next to a lake and sat you down under the shade. You whined when he let go, so he made sure to at least grab your hands with his.

“Sunshine? I need ya to listen to me.”

You met his eyes and nodded, but still had a glazed over expression.

He sighed, knowing this was the best it would get. “I think tha’ flower ya smelled was one of those aphrodisiacs. A really strong one too. I remember reading about it in that unique plants of Georgia book ya found for me.”

Your eyes widened and you let out another whine. “It hurts so bad. I- I need. Ugh.”

“Ya need to just wait it out. Could be a couple of hours.”

“No Daryl I can’t. I need you to fix it. Please fix it.”

He wasn’t sure what you were asking for, but he knew he’d give you anything if you asked him with those big, round eyes.

“Honey, I’m not sure what yer askin’.

“Need you to fuck me.”

That stopped his breath where it was in his chest. His eyes widened as he looked anywhere but your desperate face. He knew you weren’t in your right mind. You didn’t actually want him, you just wanted to act on the arousal you felt. He wasn’t sure he could handle your touch if it wasn’t genuine.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as he saw you strip your shirt off out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, his face grew even more red.

“Nah, you don’t wanna do this. You don’t want me.”

“Daryl please, I only want you. I’ve only wanted you for so long. Since the farm. Not just your body, but your soul and mind and thoughts and oh my god please I just need you to fuck me. Make it go away please.” You cried.

His heart stopped at your confession. Was this true or was it just the drug from the flower talking?

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and looked into your eyes as you nuzzled into his warm palms.

“Need ya to look at me.” He waited until your eyes met his. “Need ya to tell me that you really want this, want me. And that ya wont regret it.”

You brought your hands to his on your face. “I promise. I want you. I want you so bad. Only you.”

With that, he roughly pushed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You could’ve melted then and there. Especially when you moved your hand to wrap around the back of his hair and heard the sound he let out. A kind of grunt that you had only heard in your dreams until then.

“Imma take care of ya. Don’t worry baby.” He panted.

Clothes were off in an instant, but Daryl’s shirt stayed on. You knew about the scars and had seen them a few times, but you didn’t want to push him. Plus, you weren’t in the state to reassure him much anyway.

He currently had you on your back on the soft moss next to the willow tree, his mouth sucking your clit and fingers deep in your pussy. He said he needed to warm you up, even after you tried to convince him you were warmed up enough. You had a feeling it was more for him to prepare himself anyway.

It was heavenly, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around your thighs. His tongue never stopping at lapping up your wetness. His fingers gently but firmly hooking into you at a steady pace. It was perfect.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Daryl, please, I need more. I need you, please.” You gasped out.

He released your clit with a wet pop and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your juices. Your eyes could’ve rolled back in your head at the sight.

“Alright,” he rasped out, “quit yer whinin’ girl.”

You grinned up at him as he pumped his cock in his hands. You knew he was big.

He must’ve seen you drooling over his dick because he smirked and gently caressed your cheek before popping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck.

You weren’t sure where this newfound confidence came from, but god you loved it.

He took his thumb out and shushed you as you whined in protest.

“Ya ready for me baby?”

You could’ve nodded until your head fell off. His “warming you up” took the edge off, but the ache was back in full force, begging for you to just jump on him.

“Please Daryl. Need you so bad.”

“Alright, alright. Tell me if anythin’ hurts. I’ll try and be gentle baby.”

Your heart swooned but your lust clouded brain wanted you to yell at him to not be gentle. Instead, you settled on nodding at him.

Daryl placed his tip at your entrance and looked into your eyes as he pushed inside. Any amount of hesitance he felt dissipated as soon as he felt your wet, warm walls squeezing him.

The stretch you felt was the relief you needed. You felt your thoughts clear, as well as your clouded eyes.

Daryl noticed the change immediately and kissed your nose, then your forehead.

“Ya okay? Want me to stop?” He asked with a hint of embarrassment. Now that he solved your “problem” he was worried that you’d suddenly find him less appealing and grow disgusted with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but his brain has always been programmed to doubt himself. He felt your arms snake up his back and hold on tight to him as your legs wrapped around him to keep him inside of you.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You breathed out, still accommodating to the stretch you felt between your legs. “I still want you. Still need you.”

Even though the effects of the pollen were sated as soon as he entered you, that didn’t stop you from being turned on by the archer. You always knew you wanted something more with him, and now you were finally getting it. So you bucked your hips up further on his length with a moan.

He closed his eyes tight to prevent himself from thrusting the rest of the way into you. He knew he was big, and now that you were thinking more clearly, he knew that he had to be more gentle. When he opened his eyes, he saw you looking at him with wide eyes and your teeth tugging on your lower lip. God, you were beautiful.

He brought your hands above your head and locked your fingers with his. Then he slowly and finally filled you up the rest of the way. You both gasped and squeezed each other’s hands.

You let out a whine when he pulled out again, but sighed as he thrusted back in.

“Harder, you won’t break me.” You pleaded with him.

“I gotcha.” His next thrust was hard enough for you to release his hands and clutch onto his back. He leaned on one of his arms above you and brought the other to press into your lower stomach. “You feel me right here, baby? So deep huh?”

“Oh my god!” You moaned out for him. “Daryl… feels so good.”

He just thrusted faster and harder in response, desperate to make you feel good like you deserve.

He felt you tighten around him and he read your body signs with ease, as if you two had done this a million times before. He brought the hand was pressing on your lower stomach down to find and circle your puffy clit, getting a reaction immediately. You gasped and scratched your nails down his covered back as you somehow got out the word, “gonna-“

“I know, let go for me baby, c’mon.” He felt himself getting closer, wishing so bad that he could stay inside your cunt and finish there, but he knew the risks.

You tugged his body into yours as you finished around him, squeezing him in more ways than one.

Daryl let you ride out your pleasure before pulling out of the sweet cunt that kept sucking him in. It only took two pumps for him to release all over your inner thighs with a raspy grunt. He sat back on his knees and watched as his cum trickled down the puffy wetness between your legs and fell into the moss below him. He wished he has a camera in a moment like this, but he decided to settle on a mental snapshot for later.

He grabbed his handkerchief from his pants on the forest floor and wiped his cum from your thighs. You smiled up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You grabbed his hand when he finished and brought it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

You could’ve laughed at the blush that crossed his features. This man just said the dirtiest things to you without shame, but got so shy over a small kiss to his hand.

When Daryl finally met your eyes, a look of relief showed on his face as he saw the smile that graced your lips. He suddenly collapsed onto his back next to you and brought your face to his in the sweetest kiss ever experienced between you two.

“This wasn’t a one time thing, right?” You asked, furrowing a brow at him.

He pecked your pouted lips again. “Nah, now that I have ya, I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”

As you and Daryl enjoyed the blissful silence together, tracing fingers along each other’s frames, you both jumped when you heard sticks cracking a couple of feet away.

You both relaxed when you saw that it was the deer that brought you both out here in the first place. You started giggling uncontrollably, scaring the deer away.

Daryl scoffed. “Last time I take ya on a hunt with me, woman.”

You just continued giggling into his chest with the smile that he adored.

[nataliasquote]

Mustang [pt.2] | n romanoff

Summary: When Natasha takes her new friend to the local barn dance, tensions arise and suddenly she’s faced with a decision. Stay loyal to her neighbours or risk it all for a wild stranger?

Warnings: none :)

wc: 2.5k

note: hiii :) I watched ‘Twisters’ last night and my new obsession with Tyler Owens/ Glen Powell spurred me on to give you another addition to Cowgirl!Natasha :) I hope you enjoy, there will be more parts!

-⧗-

Natasha was nothing if not true to her word. Her best pair of boots shining to perfection, hat keeping her wavy hair out of her face, the redhead pushed through the saloon doors right on time. She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading as she locked eyes on the woman from before, who was leaning with her elbow on the polished wooden bar. They locked eyes for a second, a sparkle dancing across Natasha’s crystal clear irises and she squared her shoulders whilst weaving through the table with a soft smile.

“She returns,” Y/n announced with a grin once the redhead was in earshot, earring back a quick smirk. “I was beginning to think you’d left me out here.”

“A true woman is never late,” Natasha quickly countered. She held out her hand with a flourish and stepped back, dramatically offering Y/n assistance. “Now, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the barn dance, darlin’?”

“Ever the charmer!” Clint yelled from the opposite end of the bar where he was polishing beer glasses. Natasha rolled her eyes in jest but remained focussed on the gorgeous stranger before her who had risen from her barstool and was adjusting the waist of her jeans from sitting so long. She couldn’t lie, Natasha well and truly dragged her eyes up and down the woman’s body with absolutely no shame - she truly was a lover of all things female.

“Show me the way, sweetheart.” The nickname made Natasha melt slightly inside but her external composure never faltered, despite how weak she was just below the surface. “You’ve set my hopes high with this one.”

Natasha chuckled as the cool night air brushed their faces, a welcome feeling from the usual stuffiness of the saloon. There was a buzz in the air and the faint sound of music drifted over from the larger barns towards the end of the street, spurring the couple onwards.

“This town may not be good for much,” she started with a shrug, “but it sure knows how to throw a damn good party.”

“I’ve been to a few in my time, so we’ll see how yours holds up.”

Natasha glanced over and winked before pushing open the gate and allowing Y/n to walk past. “Let me show you the best night of your life.” Her tone was suggestive and Y/n didn’t miss it.

“Well, Romanoff, you’re already starting it off alright.” They both paused outside and felt the thumb of music in their chests before Natasha grabbed her hat and pushed the doors open, allowing the electric atmosphere to hit them both in the stomach. Y/n couldn’t contain the laugh that fell from her lips as her eyes darted around the crowded barn in wonder - it was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and she’d seen a lot.

Barn dances were commonplace in nearly all western towns, but none had the energy that this one did. Natasha’s hand quickly slid around Y/n’s waist protectively as they skirted around the dancefloor, not wanting to get trampled by the current line dance. The other woman blushed slightly at the contact but welcomed her warm hand, it feeling surprisingly natural the way it resided just below her belt. Forever the lone wolf, Natasha’s presence was strangely comforting, even after just a couple of hours.

They slid onto a pair of stools at the opposite end of the bar where the crowd wasn’t so thick, allowing the pair to survey the room comfortably. Natasha nodded to Yelena, who was seated at one of the tables across the floor, revolver in front of her hands.

“That’s my sister,” Natasha introduced, rolling her eyes as Yelena tipped her hat and winked.

“She’s a charmer, for sure.”

Natasha grabbed the two ice cold bottles that had been placed in front of them and slid one to her new companion, shaking her head with a groan. “She’s nothing but trouble and definitely not worth your time.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, scanning Natasha’s face which made the redhead blush. She was losing her composure by the second and it jarred her.

“What you looking at?”

“Why do you hate this place so much?” Y/n asked, not caring that she was overstepping Natasha’s high boundaries. “You don’t have anything good to say about it, is it really all that bad?”

Natasha hesitated, rubbing her fingers over the damp label on her beer bottle. It’s not that she hated the town or the people, they were fine as far as she was concerned. But the promise of more would always weigh on her mind, darkening her current situation.

“No, it’s just… there’s nothing for me here,” she replied, keeping her eyes down. She didn’t want to see another person laugh at her ambition. But Y/n did nothing of the sort.

“Not even your family?” Her voice wavered at the end.

Natasha scoffed. “They think I’m crazy for ever wanting to leave. My Pa just wants me to find a respectable husband and start a family, but that’ll never be me.”

“Not a lover?”

Natasha finally looked up from the table and caught Y/n’s eyes, the orange light dancing across her pupils like fire. “Not for those in this town,” she muttered, before shaking her head and placing her bottle down a little too firmly. “It would be rude of me to invite the lady of the hour to a barn dance and not offer her a turn, so, will you?” She slid off her stool and held her hand out, which Y/n accepted with a smirk before the two women crossed to the dance floor, ignoring the drunk men staring at their every move.

The beat rang out and everyone stamped their heels, thumbs falling naturally into the belt loops on jeans as the dance began. Y/n followed along with a wide smile on her face, the atmosphere feeling electric in her veins. She was a sucker for a dance, getting lost in the music within the crowd, only the instruments and the sound of boots on the dusty wood floor filling her ears.

With Natasha by her side, she felt more carefree than she had in a while, lifting her arms high above her head as she turned. The redhead watched her out of the corner of her eye, watching how her hips swayed in her fitted jeans and how easily she moved. Sure, Natasha had flirted a lot with many women, but very few had her as captivated as this stranger did. Where was she from? Did she do… love? Natasha was getting ahead of herself, and her mind was spinning, leaving her stumbling to stay on time in the dance.

As the song ended, Y/n didn’t want to return to the bar. She tugged Natasha’s arm, begging her to stay for a few more songs, to which the redhead caved. She missed Yelena’s smirk from across the room, laughing to Kate as they watched amused. Natasha spent more time watching Y/n dance than she did paying attention to her own feet. As much as Natasha was reluctant everytime the song ended, she would have danced for days if Y/n wanted to. She never wanted this moment to end.

But when did anything good ever last? The cheers of the crowd after the latest song were suddenly interrupted by two gunshots, pausing the festivities immediately. Natasha grabbed her revolver and pushed Y/n behind her, much to the brunette’s surprise. She had her hand on her own gun but didn’t want to unnerve anyone as she was the outsider and did not want to create another bad reputation.

There was commotion by the main doors and Alexei’s voice boomed loudly above the rest, silencing the chatter. Ol’ Joe hobbled forwards, his face burning with rage as he shakily held his gun in the air.

“Where’s the new girl!” He yelled, beady eyes scanning the crowd as they parted to reveal Y/n, and in turn Natasha who did not flinch. She reached for the brunette’s hand and held it tight behind her back. “You!”

“What is going on?” Natasha asked, stepping forward before Ol’ Joe could progress any further.

“My prize cow is dead and it’s because of her!” He shoved a finger in Y/n’s direction as the crowd yelled, their chants now hostile towards the stranger.

“She didn’t do nothin’!” Natasha defended, feeling a pressure rise in her chest. She looked back at Y/n who had paled slightly but retained an iron grip on the handle of her gun in the holster. “She’s been with me all day.”

The crowd roared and Alexei appeared, his arms folded over his chest as he observed the scene in front of him.

“Defending a stranger and a killer? I always knew there was something off about you,” Ol’ Joe hissed, moving forward so the barrel was pressed against Natasha’s sternum.

“Nat…” Y/n warned. This was her fight, even if she had nothing to do with the cows at all. But roping her new and only friend into this fight wasn’t worth it and she’d be damned if Natasha got caught up in a gunfight because of her. “Leave it.”

But when did Natasha Romanoff ever do as she was told? She ignored Y/n pleas and used two fingers to slowly push Ol’ Joe’s barrel down. “Where’s your proof?” She stated, not letting go of his gun. She felt everyone’s eyes on her, including the disapproving ones of her father, but that was nothing new and Natasha never backed down. “Go on, where’s the proof it was her?”

Ol’ Joe stuttered, his mouth turning dry. Natasha truly was intimidating when she wanted to be, her green eyes piercing, almost like they could see everything a person was hiding.

“Natasha this isn’t your fight,” Y/n spoke up again, pushing forwards so she was just in front of the redhead.

“No,” Natasha countered. “I won’t have them targeting you just because you’re a stranger. I know it wasn’t you.”

“Put a bullet in her head!” Someone yelled from the crowd, encouraging an uproar to start. Natasha’s patience was wearing thin, and with still no reply from Ol’ Joe about why it must be Y/n, she was at her wits end. Clicking the safety off her gun, she aimed it at the ceiling and shot three times, her usual warning call. Well rehearsed and functional.

On cue, Yelena surged up from her table and shot another three bullets into the back wall, diverting everyone’s attention away from the women in the centre. Natasha shoved past Ol’ Joe, her hand clamped around Y/n’s wrist so she could not protest. But when the old farmer grabbed her other wrist, Natasha clenched her fist and punched him clean in the nose before running for the side door, Y/n hot on her heels.

“Where are we going? She shouted as Natasha broke into a sprint, her boots kicking up the dust with every step. “Natasha!”

But the redhead didn’t answer, the smart thing to do. She headed for a small gap between the buildings and rounded the corner, dodging old fence posts in the barely lit back street. Y/n followed her blindly, her heart rate increasing every time a new voice yelled out behind her. She didn’t know how many townsfolk were following them, there was no time to turn and check, but she knew by the sound of thundering boots that there were enough.

The redhead sharply turned left into one of the barns near the end of the street, her feet slipping on the damp straw. She looked up, breathing heavy, into the darkness of the rafters.

“Gimme your foot,” she whispered to Y/n who just looked at her confused as she cupped her hands. “Do it or you’ll die!”

The brunette eyed the small space above them and threw caution to the wind, allowing the pointed toe of her boot to nestle into Natasha’s interlocked fingers. The redhead lifted her up until she could reach the ledge and pull herself over, rolling into a pile of musty hay and cobwebs.

Natasha’s head suddenly whipped around, the sound of footsteps getting louder by the second. She took a few steps back and ran, giving herself enough of a run-up so she could jump off a nearby hay bale and grasp the ledge, using all the strength in her arms to pull herself up and over. Y/n grabbed her forearms and tugged her back just as the doors flew open.

The women pressed themselves as far back as possible, not daring to breathe until someone yelled ‘got nothing’ and they were finally alone again. Natasha let out a breath, her head falling back until it hit a wooden beam behind her. But her hat was in the way and she tugged it off, allowing it to fall beside her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Ol’ Joe never knows when to pull in his horns. Was probably a coyote or something that took his cow, or a lone wolf. But he never gives up the chance to point fingers, especially at someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“An outsider and a woman…”

Y/n averted her eyes, even if she knew that was the reason she was always mistreated. It never mattered which town she was in, someone always found an issue with her, which kept her moving.

“Well, those things never change. It’s not all good what I do.”

That shut Natasha up. One of the horses shuffled around its stable and poked its head out, making Natasha smile. Of course Liho knew she was here.

“Hey buddy,” she muttered, even if she was too far away for him to hear. But Y/n heard and leaned over, taking a gander at the midnight black horse.

“He yours?”

Natasha nodded. “That’s my Liho.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Y/n complimented. “Is this your family stable? Won’t they know to check here?”

Natasha shook her head. “No, that one is further down. I keep Liho here so he won’t be targeted,” she admitted, peeling a piece of hay between her fingers. “Only Kate, Peter and Yelena know he’s here.”

Y/n hummed and stretched her legs out in front of her. Her boots were battered, but she reached into her left one and pulled out a knife, twirling it around until the blade landed flat against her palm.

“You keep knives in your boots?” Natasha exclaimed, fascinated.

Y/n smirked at her child-like wonder. “You don’t?”

“I do now,” Natasha answered with a raise of her brow. A comfortable silence fell between them, the distant sounds of the crowd echoing down the street. Natasha’s hand fell by her side, brushing against Y/n’s accidentally. But despite the surprise, neither woman moved. Their fingers twitched, pinkies slowly moving across the damp hay until they linked. A strangely childish motion, but it was strangely comforting. The smallest of touches, no words, yet a million thoughts were exchanged.

And when Natasha reached her hand over even further and fully encased Y/n’s in her own, something released in her heart. Nothing had ever felt so right before and Natasha knew she was officially screwed. She would never be able to let her go.

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“Skin…what!?” — Toji Fushiguro

A/n: listen, I don’t know. I just know he’s a slimy and cutesy man — inspired from another YouTube video lmao wc: 0.9k

“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” your voice was a whine—a drag, a smile peeking about as your boyfriend turned over slow—a scowl on his face.

“Don’t ya get beggin’ to me ‘bout this shit when you can’t mutter a please when I’m pounding—”

“—Toji!” An embarrassed chuckle you carried, hand moving to slap his—he didn’t bother dodging it, basking in the sound of your laughter. 

“Why’re ya so excited about paintin’ my face with random bull-crap?” 

“S’not bullcrap,” a pout rested on your lips, hands pressing down on him to settle him onto the small chair you used for your vanity table—⅕ of his size, a mental note made to take a picture of him such. 

“It’ll make your skin all nice and glowy—not all the wrinkles you’re gonna get with all that frowning,”

Just as you said so, another frown adorned his face—“y’er Callin’ me old now doll?” It was light hearted in all sense but Toji surely loved how you wasted not a second to plant a kiss on his cheek—reassurance. 

But As it lay, a sweet moment—always ruined by Toji himself, a sharp slap landed on your ass, you narrowed your eyes while he grinned, “don’t waste time and get to it.”

A sharp slap to his chest, a roll of your eyes—“Get up, gotta wash your grimy face,”

“S’not grimy,”

“Sure is,”

“Wash it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The walk to the bathroom, there on was quick— simple, the water turned on, you watched with a smile as Toji cupped the water and sprawled it across his face messily—“you’ll clean the mess right?” The smile was evident in your face as he grunted—hands reaching out to close the tap, your smile dropped immediately.

“With a soap? Toji?” 

The older man turned once—“you wanna have a shower?”

You stared at him incredulous as did he—“Wash. your. Damn face with a face wash.”

And I assure you, it’s only because the tone of your voice that Toji Fushiguro relented, reaching out for your bottle of face wash, squeezing out an unnecessary amount of product, you let it pass knowing another interruption over this would backfire. 

Another smile you wore as he slowly massaged his face at your commands and glare—

“Slow down,” and typical, “your chin as well,” 

—finally letting the water wash everything away.

“Happy?” He grumbled as you grinned—“here’s the towel for my love—no more of wiping your face with your own shirt weirdo,” you could’ve sworn a slight smile tugged on his lips as he grabbed it from your hands.

“You weirdo,” he muttered under his breath still.

But all was not well still, to your utter horror, there stood Toji, aggressively wiping his face with the towel, at an ungodly speed which you knew wasn’t good.

“Toji!” Another whine, another sigh.

“What now woman?” 

“Go slow, it’s your face, not some body you gotta skin—tap it slowly, let the water get absorbed,” be well known that it was only for your pout and hope that Toji did as you commanded.

“Done?” Not much of a question it lay, his huge body trampling over you almost as he tried pushing past you—“no? Now we do the moisturisers and the masks,”

You were met with a silence—“at what part of this will you suck my dick to make it up to me? Because that’s the only thing fun now,”

A huff you let out—“it’s fun when you do it nicely—put this on, the toner,” 

Before an objection would’ve been lain forward, your hands grabbed his, pouring some toner into it, “pat it on your face—n-no, don’t slap it! Gently!”

You could see his tightening jaw at this point—“never gonna use your ideas of fun now,”

“Let it soak in and shut up,”

“You shut up,”

Another smile, you kissed his hand as his face absorbed in the toner—“now the face mask,”

“Face mask!?”

“Don’t shout,”

“Y’er crazy, it ain’t even skin care at this point it’s fuckin’ your own face,”

Another glare and finally quiet. 

You slowly applied the face mask around his face, spreading it out evenly- biting back your giggle as closed his eyes—letting you do your job.

“You could adorable,”

“I’ll make sure you look adorable in a minute,”

“Oi- no threatening, and don’t move your face around while this is on—wash it in 10 minutes,”

“Hah!? 10 minutes?” “Yes ten minutes,”

“I’m washing it right now I don’t care doll, sure it must be fun f’yer lil’ head but—”

“We’re almost done, Toji,” your lips dragged his words as you pouted, fingers pulling at his hand, “please? Just a couple more things,” His expectant eyes encouraged you to lay down the steps—

“ok ok, you’ll wash your face after this, then toner again-”

“What.”

“Hear me out, toner, and then serum, face cream and eye cream and done!” 

You stared at him and him, you—he may a strong man but a strong will against you was not something he possessed.

“Whatever woman, you’re gonna give me a good fuck after this.”

“We sleep after the skin care love,”

“Ah? Fuck off,”

Your giggle sounded in the quiet room as did his continuous muttering. 

-

Ps: the only part he loved was while applying lip balm as the last step—where he applied it on your lips and kissed you to transfer it on <3

All of this work is original and entirely my own please refrain from copying or reposting. Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[aviiarie]

TO YOUR DEFENSE — chiori x fem!reader !

synopsis. chiori's partner is disrespected, and there isn't a chance she is letting it slide. warnings. n/a notes. established relationship. fem!reader. 1k words. i love her. so much. dedicated to @tragedy-of-commons who i brainrotted with about this idea <3

Chiori is by no means a soft woman. Of course, she is perfectly capable of it when the right situation calls for it. And when the situation pertains to you—her cherished lover—she can deign to spare a measured amount of gentleness for your sake, but only a fool would mistake that for weakness.

Her newest client—a bald, bespectacled man interested in a new tailored suit and little else—seems to be exactly that: a fool.

“Apologize. Now.” Chiori’s tone is as sharp and cutting as the blade of her sword, making the man visibly shiver.

“I-I didn’t—Mademoiselle Chiori!” He stumbles over his words, losing any semblance of composure that he entered the store with. There was none of the bravado he held earlier, none of the confidence that had earned him her fury in the first place. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I-I simply—”

“Simply what?” Chiori’s eyes narrow, her face darkening further. “You simply thought it was appropriate to treat my partner with such blatant disrespect right in front of my eyes? You simply decided she was a sales assistant, and assumed that made it acceptable to order her around? You simply chose to tell her to make herself useful, and get you a tie in a different colour?”

The man flinches as his words are spat back at him, stuttering and stammering to try and pull together some sort of defence. It is a feeble attempt, and one that is quickly shut down.

“Quiet.” Chiori says harshly, cutting off the rest of his spluttering. “You will be quiet, and you will listen to what I have to say. Am I understood?”

The man nodded jerkily, looking like a skittish animal. The sight was rather pathetic, he was a foot taller than her and almost twice her size, but he still cowered at her piercing gaze.

“Not only have you falsely assumed that my partner—who has so graciously offered to assist me today, when you chose to delay your fitting appointment until an hour before closing—was a mere sales assistant, instead of politely requesting she retrieve an item for you, you decided to snap at her.”

Chiori took a pause, studying the man’s expression. It was almost laughable how much a grown man could so closely resemble a kicked puppy; perhaps she would have found humour in the sight, had she not been seething from head to toe with a burning anger.

“Treating my boutique like you can come and go as you please is one thing. But treating my lover like she is a worthless, lowly servant is something else. You have not just crossed the line; you have trampled all over it in those hideous dress shoes of yours. How dare you carry yourself with such arrogance, when you do not have even the common decency to speak to others with even a shred of politeness? You are not only an impolite, bad-tempered man, but a cowardly one at that.”

With every word, his head bows lower. It’s hard to tell if the action was out of genuine remorse, or shame that he was being scolded like a misbehaving schoolboy, but judging by his actions, Chiori could safely assume it was the latter.

“You—” Her eyes drift over to the side where you stood at the side of the store, watching the scene play out with an uncomfortable expression. If she were dealing with a disrespectful customer alone, she would not have hesitated to tear into him even further until he was a shivering mess of apologies at her feet, but the way you looked like you wanted to be anywhere else made her pause.

Even if she was defending you, your comfort was her priority. She bit back the insult on her lips, forcing her words to change their course.

“—You are going to apologize to my partner. Then, you are going to leave this store, and never return. You are not welcome at Chioriya Boutique anymore, and you will be blacklisted for life. I do not ever want to see your pathetic face again, but if I hear that you are treating any other sales worker the way you treated my partner today…”

Chiori didn’t finish her sentence, but the threat was clear. It hung in the air between them, causing the man to turn pale.

“O-Of course. I sincerely apologize, Mademoiselle—” The man turned to you, clasping his hands together. “I am truly sorry!”

“Go.” Chiori’s face twists in disgust. She steps away from the man, looking him up and down like he was nothing more than dirt beneath her shoe. “And do not come back.”

“Y-Yes, of course…” He bobs his head in a nod, face still struck with fear. He backs out of the boutique, as fast as his legs could take him.

Once he is out of sight, the anger melts off Chiori like snow falling from a roof. She turns to properly face you, her hand moving up to gently cup your cheek. “Apologies, that wasn’t something you should have had to witness. Are you alright, my love?”

You nod slowly, leaning into her hand. “I’m fine…”

She clicks her tongue. Her hand moves down your cheek, sliding all the way down your shoulder to rest on your waist. “Don’t lie to me. You look shaken.”

“I’m fine, really.” You insist, forcing a small smile. “Thank you… for defending my honour.”

Chiori’s face softens. She uses her hand at your waist to pull you closer until you were almost flush against her chest, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “It is no problem, darling. Some people just don’t seem to understand manners until they are beaten over the head with them.”

You laugh lightly, and the sound is like a melody to her ears. She hums, pulling herself out of the embrace long enough to flick the open sign to closed.

“Let’s go home, love.” Chiori pulls your hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles. “Let’s forget all about what happened.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[chogiwow]

for well and for good | park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader

genre: angst

wc: 1k

warnings: allusions to a toxic past relationship (sunghoon and unnamed ex), crying (a lot), hurt-no-comfort fic, heartbreak; sunghoon realises his feelings for you too late

a/n: all i want is to break hearts <3

a/n pt 2: umm, not a solid plot but more so like a scene building concept?

there wasn’t a more heartbreaking moment than this, not for sunghoon; not even when the consequences of his actions that led him here had played out exactly as you had warned him it would.

now it was too late, and beg as he might, a heavy feeling in his chest slowly settled against his favour, a premonition turning true and cry as much as he wanted, everything was spiralling out of control so fast, he wasn’t sure who he should save first.

“(y/n)...(y/n) please, i can’t do this, i can’t live without you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please don’t leave, i need you…i love you.”

the more he weeped for a lost cause, the more it hurt your chest and ripped you apart piece by piece but you made no attempts at stopping the pain.

everyone had always assumed that you and sunghoon would be the endgame. it was so obvious! you both were head over heels for each other, but of course, of course the heart wavers ever so often now and then. sunghoon let himself ignore all the signs, pretend that the affection and sweet words weren’t another ploy for his wealth, his looks, his popularity, the safety and love he was so willing to provide someone, because he was always so very generous. generous and ridiculously naive; always looking to give away a piece of himself to anyone who so much as asked for it.

and a man in love is hard to sway again, especially when the man is sunghoon, with his giving nature and so much love that filled his heart that he couldn’t contain it any longer.

words were said – spit almost venomously at the cost of saving face and pride, and how dare you question his love and hers, when you had no business? how dare you make assumptions about this beautiful woman who loved him – at least he hoped she did – as much as he did?

and then…and then everything you said came true. your warnings carefully etched themselves like knife carvings on a paper – vehemently and so very stubbornly irreversible. now he’s here, after months of grieving not just the loss of his trust in love, but also you. and he had to make things right, but how does one convince a person they've broken and trampled upon so mercilessly, that they are indeed in love with them?

how does sunghoon convince you that he’s so utterly in love with you that he could physically feel the pain of your pointed ignoring and cold looks? how does he even begin to express how sorry he was when the unsaid apology squeezed the breath out of him in aggrieved pants? how does sunghoon not lose you again?

“”i’m sorry hoon, i can’t do this anymore. i can’t love you anymore, i don’t want to love you anymore…you’ve hurt me too much.”

“(y/n) please, please i beg you,”

and beg he did; getting down on his knees on the cold tile floors of your living room, he wrapped his arms around your waist and dampened your shirt with his hot tears. neither he nor you were making much sense of this conversation anymore.

he felt you shake in his embrace, your own tears and gasps of air breaking his chants of an apology, his hands tightening around you to physically feel your touch after months.

“hoon stop it,” a wretched sob, ugly as it sounded when it tumbled out of your lips in pain, like a helpless rotten fruit falling off its branches, makes you whimper and clutch onto the clinging man's hand who refused to let you go.

in a hurried motion sunghoon is up on his feet, holding you by the shoulder that shakes with the cries staining your cheeks.

“i can’t live without you, please give me another chance,” he shakes his head frantically, mumbling out his words in a frenzy as he is yet again painfully reminded of exactly how weighted his words were and how much truth they held in them. it weighed him down, your refusal to look past this, like a sack of cotton drowning in water, and yet he could not bring himself to blame you, hoping against hope that his words would make a change.

his lips find your forehead, pressing down on them in a hot kiss; the trembling of his lips breaks you, you wish would stop – but he doesn’t. he’s kissing your shoulder, your arms, your wrists, your palms and he’s kissing your forehead – again and again and again and again – until you push yourself away, your eyes closed, shaking your head.

“don’t, it’s time we stopped this. we can’t hope for things that were never meant to be.”

sunghoon was standing on the edge of a cliff, and you just pushed him off into a bottomless pit that made his insides curl into themselves, his hands shooting in the air for something to grasp but there’s only air that passes through his fingers like bullets.

in his last attempt he kisses you on the lips. he holds your face so gently and kisses you so deeply and for a moment you feel yourself swaying. you let him kiss you, because you know this would be the last time you would let this happen. you whimper into his mouth and he lets a broken sob tumble on your lips where it stays as a reminder of this very moment, searing you both apart. you don’t kiss back.

“stop it, please. you’re hurting me.” it’s a whispered plea, but to sunghoon it’s a huge boulder that blocks his way from you. you’ve planted it there for once and for all, and he knows that there’s nothing he can do to make you move it.

“i’m sorry, i love you, but i don't want to anymore. i’m sorry.” 

sunghoon rests his forehead against yours, your tears mingled and continuous and he knows he’s lost you now, for well and for good.

[miheartsedthings]

All The Lovers in the Night

“Smells like rain.” 

Billy glances from the movie he’s watching to where you’re leaning on the window sill, your nose nearly pressed against the screen. 

“Hm?”

It’s cool out, early spring. 

“Rain,” you say again, “C’mere.” 

Graduation was months ago, and since then you and Billy spend as much time as possible together. Now, you’re at his place while his dad is away on a business trip. Susan doesn’t stand in the way of you being together, as long as you all have some idea of which friends Max is hanging out with. She’s with Lucas and the others, so you and Billy have the house to yourselves and you’ve taken up in the living room. 

You’re on your knees in front of the window beside the TV, transfixed by the little green yard and the trees just beyond. All settled under graying clouds. Billy comes to stand beside you. 

“Smells like…” he pauses, leaning down and closing his eyes. He’s been so at ease since his dad left. Since his ribs healed and the nightmares lessened. So much more thoughtful. More like his true self than he ever would’ve been before. 

“Kinda like ocean.” He says as he looks out. He’s smiling but only with his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say, taking another big inhale. “Wet dirt, and like…” another breath “the way it smells on foggy mornings, ya know?” 

He nods. He sits down on the hardwood, one knee bent as he reclines on the opposite arm. 

“You’re missing your movie,” you say. 

His eyes are far away, looking out into the sky. 

“It used to be quiet in our house when it stormed,” he says. “My grandma lived with us and she used to make me and my mom huddle up in the living room and pray until it passed. Normally, my dad bitched about everything that woman said, but…when it stormed, something came over him, too. Everything would just get mellow and we’d sit there…damn. I forgot about that.” 

A cool, damp breeze rolls over you, and slowly a shush drums up from the ground as the rain starts to fall. Quietly at first, and then louder, filling the air with scattered water and the sour smell of soil. Billy loops an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap. He tucks his face into your neck and kisses the chilled skin before returning his eyes to the window. You settle into him, closing yourself into the warmth of his arms. 

“There’s so much I wish I could change about what happened to you.” 

Your words feel thin. Maybe they’ll slip right out the window and be trampled by the rain. Broken through like butterfly wings. 

“I know,” he says “I know what you'd do for me if you could.” 

His arms tighten around you, somehow bringing you closer to his chest. You know the words are meant to be comforting, but they make you feel powerless. You sit there drowning in all the nothing you can do to fix the things he suffered with. Before you know it, you’ve sniffled, and he turns you to face him with a hand under your chin. 

“Hey,” he says, his face tightening into a stern glare. “You don’t get to be mad at yourself about shit you can’t change. Remember we made that rule?” You nod, but it only makes it worse that he cares so much. “Keep being a crybaby you’re gonna get yourself in trouble.” 

A laugh bursts out of you, regardless of your tears. He’s able to make you laugh whenever he wants, it’s like some weird superpower he has. He smiles a little and kisses you, letting his lips linger. 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “You can’t have more regrets than me and shit…I’m here.” 

You’re flooded with more words, more sentiment than you’d ever burden one person with. It’s too much. So you kiss him again and try to telegraph it all through the dense space between your internal self and his. You try to send him healing and care. Compassion beyond description. Forgivenesses not yours to give. All of it. Everything. 

For a moment, when he’s filling you, you think he feels it. By some miracle of the body and the sound of rain, he finally feels how much you love him. You’re so happy you could die. 

Artist Credit: Cécile Berrubé

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby, Pain is Pleasure FINALE - Part 1

I have had to split the Finale into two parts as it was just getting too long to post altogether, and I enjoy making you all wait…. 

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – THESE WARNINGS COVER ALL PARTS OF THIS FICTION/ IMAGINE STORY- THEY MAY NOT BE SPECIFIC TO THIS PARTICULAR PART! - 

SERIOUS SMUT,  GIRL X GIRL, MAN X MAN, POLY RELATIONSHIPS/SEXUAL, BDSM, BLOOD, PANIC ATTACKS, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) CHEATING, STALKERS/ STALKING, SMOKING/ CIGARETTES 

Part 1 Word Count - 4.5k (Hence why its in 2 parts!)

Tag List - @babybatlover @p0is0nl0ve @babiidee28 @darlingnikkisixx @commandershepardofthedas gooses-pond  rhiamaymay  scaraskzzs  (SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE, IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR I MISSED YOU LET ME KNOW BELOW)

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure – Finale Part 1  

The stadium erupted into an overwhelming flood of cheering and chants from the many thousands of fans surrounding the ring. The barricades holding them back shook as they lept to their feet, signs which had been discarded in the air from excitement now lay on the floor amongst hundreds of sets of trainers, boots, high heels and the younger bare footed audience members. The once loved handmade card treasures, plastered with slogans and beloved wrestler’s names now trampled upon by wet footprints and washed out by the rain. 

The thunderstorm was now in full force, rain hammered down into the arena as thunder shook throughout, echoing inside that hellish cage. All hell had broken out inside the ring with every member from the opposing families in an absolute free for all brawl out with each other. 

Damian had Rowan up against the ring post as the two continued to trade blows with each other, their faces both semi blinded by the rain and fuelled with an anger which bestowed a look of utter discontent for any form of peace. These men were in it for pride, for love and for honour. Damian, who had now got one up and over a certain ramblin rabbit had climbed onto the second rope, pinning Erik against the post as he continued to hammer blow after blow to the head of the monstrous man. 

Finn and Dexter had somehow made their way out of the ring and into the gap between the steel framed cage as each of them were scrambling to pin the other one down long enough to secure any kind of balance. Dexter, who had made it back to his feet, grabbed Finn by the trouser cuff and launched him back into the ring whilst Dominik and Huskus were fighting tooth and nail across the mat, exchanging blows, kicks and punches. Again, neither one had quite managed to one up the other in such a well-balanced fight until I had run past in an effort to lock back up with Uncle Howdy, kneeing Huskus in the face and allowing Dominik to climb on top of him. 

Rhea and Abby meanwhile were tearing each other apart, feral and fearless as neither woman would let up or give in to their pain. 

With no referee inside and not one person willing to step back in line, it hadn’t taken long for management to act accordingly. Because if this war was ever going to settled, and they knew it needed to be, some form of control needed to be restored. 

The lighting colour scheme was quick to change, black and green lights flashed up across all the LED boards, glowing lettering plastered across each barricade…

‘ITS TIME TO PLAY THE GAME!!!’ 

Smoke bellowed through the doorways and down the entrance ramp as Triple H made his way into centre stage, shouting at the top of his lungs in an attempt to bring about some order of control. 

“ENOUGH!!!!” Paul’s voice was loud with a strong sense of authority, demanding his entitlement for respect. 

“CUT THE MUSIC! CUT THE LIGHTS! CUT THE GOD DAMN DRAMA FOR A MOMENT AND LISTENNN!!!!” 

The audience’s heads turned between the stage and then back to ring as not one person stopped fighting and not one person from either side of the battle was willing to listen or stand down. 

“STOP!!!!” He screamed out again before his voice shallowed out, trying to control the fury that was making his blood boil. His emphasis on specific words made his statements land in the dark parts of the soul that could recognise fear… and when someone meant every word they said. 

“The next PERSON to move from where they are standing! The next PERSON to throw a punch or lay their HANDS on another will be SUSPENDED!” 

We all froze, eyes deadlocked onto each other, with barley the ability or willingness to blink, body parts shaking in anger and fury as we all listened for the next ‘commandment’. Rhea’s hand was wrapped tightly around Abby the witch’s neck with her opposing fist raised in the air, while the witch’s knee was inches from being lodged into Ripley’s rib cage. 

Damian and Finn were being held against adjoining ropes by Dexter and Rowan as the two monsters had only just gotten the advantage before Triple H had come out to ruin our revenge. 

Dominik and Husk had managed to brawl and in turn fall out of the ring to the floor, they were now trapped in between the gap of the cage and the ring post like Finn had been before with Dex, exchanging blows to each other before the interruption. Dom’s hand now pushing Husk’s face further into the ground as he allowed his body weight to ease onto him, building pressure. That clever boy knew he had him pinned and that he wasn’t going to be able move anytime soon. He smirked down to the feeble weakling under his grasp, enjoying the dominance he rarely got to feel. 

Meanwhile I had already retrieved a beloved Kendo stick that had been secured above from the top of the cage and I had climbed my way back to the top of the ring post, gripping the top of the frame while howdy had been in pursuit. I was ready to use an aerial advantage and take this fucker out but after stopping my grip on the steel frame was starting to slip out from underneath me. My desire to drive the weapon straight across the back of Uncle Howdy felt like a dream come true. Shame I hadn’t been able to finish the job…yet. 

“Back. Away. From. Each. Other” Triple H’s words were blunt and begrudgingly we did as we were told, though admittedly I was relieved to finally let go of the cage that I had been slipping out from. Damian and Finn squared up to Rowan & Dexter as they were released from their grasp before making their way over to our side of the ring. 

Rhea had released Abby and tossed her to the side before reaching down to offer a hand to Dominik and help him back into the ring, though the boy wasn’t quite ready to allow Huskus back to his feet. But he did eventually do as he was told after Rhea gave him one of her stern looks and upon doing as he was told, a sultry wink after as a reward. She leaned into his ear, covering her lips and whispered…

“Enjoying being the dominant one I see Dom Dom, you make Mami very… very proud”  

Dominik grinned, licking his teeth and wiping the blood away from a busted lip before placing a hand over his crotch, jiggling around his package to try and calm down the ever-growing tension between his legs. 

I however, standing strong, stood face to face with the prick before me. Uncle Howdy looked down at me, his height towered mine to a degree and his demeanour was infuriating. It felt like he genuinely believed he was better than all those around him, as if he was far better than I could ever be.  He laughed as he stepped to the side and returned back to his family with open arms. Their celebrations glinted at the idea they had won the first battle, like they had gotten one over on us. It felt almost rude, it felt offensive to see him walk away from me, and it made my blood boil, my skin began to heat up, my heat raced, so I spun around on the spot to react the only way I knew how, with violence! But a strong set of arms wrapped around me before I could take another step forward and pulled me back, whispering in my ear. 

“Easy baby, easy” Rhea’s breath was warm, I could smell the sweat on her tattooed skin, the blood from scrapes and scratches from the pre-war fight. Her scent radiated throughout my senses, and it was addictive. Goosebumps took over my entire skin as she pulled me back in line with the others, still keeping her grip tight across my body as we now stood together. The Judgment Day vs The Wyatt Sicks. 

“I feel like there must be some… confusion in the air? There must be some misunderstanding between you all as to who is in charge around here? Some people clearly don’t understand their role in this company. Some people… seem to believe they have the… Authority? To do as they please…when in fact they don’t have any. You all have decided to start a war that, whether you like it or not, is NOT going to end the way YOU ALL want it to” Paul’s voice was clear and precise, but he sounded calm, and that was the most concerning part… Until he wasn’t. 

“Your roles within this company are clear, they are set out. You do as you are told; you go where I tell you to go. You behave like the good little puppets on a string you were designed for, and you DO NOT DISOBEY” 

Each of us turned for a moment to face Triple H, breaking the death glares we had locked on to our opponents. A sense of concern and confusion as to what Paul was going to do next hung in the air, all I wanted was to get my hands back on Howdy, claim my championship and go home to rather unwholesomely fuck my lovers into next week.

“This war will be fought, and this war will end here at WrestleMania…” Triple H turned to the crowd as they all began to cheer and chant. “But… Y/N, you will not be in this cage, you will not be a part of it” 

My Heart ran cold as I threw Rheas hands off me and raced toward the front of the cage in shock, gripping onto the steel frame. The rest of Judgment days reactions, very similar to my own followed behind me as the Wyatts laughed hysterically behind us. We all began shouting our frustrations towards Paul, questioning what possible reason he had to kick me out of this Championship match I had trained so long for, worked so hard to get to?! 

Triple H raised his hand up to silence us and the crowd as the entire arena chimed in with the deafening booing and shouts of discontent. 

“SILENCE!” Paul demanded, turning his attention back to my direction. 

“Because…y/n… “ Paul smirked before raising the Women’s World Championship up from behind him, having secured it from a security guard to his right. 

“As Dakota Kai has now retired injured… YOU, will instead be fighting for THIS, against Abby the Witch, in an adjoining cage. I am declaring RIGHT NOW, that this match, is a Ten Man-Grand Slam all in one, no disqualifications, no count out, no holds barred, all is fair in love and war double caged firefly street fight. Abby the Witch & Y/W/N will be locked inside one cage, whilst Rhea, Damian, Dominik and Finn will be locked in the other with Erik Rowan, Dexter Lumis, Joe Gacy and Uncle Howdy. This match will run for 1 hour and to secure victory Y/W/N, Abby, you must PIN your opponent. Your families in the opposing cage must also pin their opponents one by one to secure victory. Once pinned, you will be removed. Once the championship has been claimed, once one team comes out on top over the other, only then will this war end. Now, if the hour runs out and the championship has not been claimed, you forfeit your right to it. No arguments, no complaints, those are the rules. Suck it up and move on. I am the puppet master, I am the boss, I am THE AUTHORITY!” Triple H commanded to us all. 

“Now a referee will now come down and unlock the cage. You will all return backstage, the battle commences in 20 minutes… Good Luck.” With the rain now finally clearing, Triple H bowed his head and looked up to the heavens, in respect for the loss of Bray Wyatt before moving to exit the stage.

The lighting returned to normal, and the standard WrestleMania music played out as we began to exit the ring one by one, security keeping a lengthy distance between the Wyatts and the Judgment Day. Fans desperate to get their favourites attention were scrambling over the barricades, leaning their body weights over in an attempt for a high five, but we were all far too distracted. 

Suddenly, Uncle Howdy halted and turned on his heels grabbing a microphone and smirking down at us from the other end of the ramp. 

“Y/N, I do wish you the very best of luck, you know as well as I… I am just the ghost of the man who saved this world but, who are you? You cannot hide from it; you cannot hide from me? The truth will set you free y/n…did you tell them?” Howdy’s words were playful and taunting as he pointed to each of my lovers standing just behind me. 

“I told them! I told them everything!!!” I screamed back up at Howdy. 

He chuckled and turned his back on me, whispering into the microphone before disappearing backstage, “but did you tell, the world?” 

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

THE JUDGMENT DAY CLUBHOUSE 

Swinging the door open I rushed through and began pacing the centre of the room, nervous, anxious and fearful of what could happen if the world ever found out about my past. 

Social media had gone crazy, fans and viewers speculating and debating over whether this had become the greatest WrestleMania of all time, whether Abby the Witch or Y/W/N would become the new Women’s World Champion, how brilliant it was that Rhea would be fighting against a team of all men and that they knew she would beat their asses. But alongside all this there was also the debates over what my secrets were, how they could find out, and with these debates’ rumours had started to spread, like wildfire. Unbeknown to me, Liv Morgan was backstage hiding out, and she was fuelling that fire. 

I was in full panic mode as the others also piled in through the door, Finn entering last locked the door behind him and turned to face me. He took a brisk walk forward before grabbing me by my shoulders and slapping me straight across the face to break my panic. I stood in shock, as did the others, what the actual fuck was he playing at. 

Then, not more than a second later he pulled me in tight, wrapping his hands around my face, my neck, then one hand on my back as he locked his lips in against mine. A full make out session had my hormones come flooding in and my body temperature spiked. My inner core heating up as I felt an all too familiar tingle rise up between my legs. Finn pulled himself off me for a second and looked me dead in the eyes.

“We are going to win this war y/n. You will become champion. There will be absolutely no distractions in that ring, do you hear me!” His Irish accent purred across each syllable, even if he meant to be stern it just sounded beyond sexy to me. I nodded in response to his questions. 

“Good. Because no distractions works both ways and you being in this new gear well, it reminded me that I have been waiting to fuck you for far too long.” The other members of Judgment Day nodded in agreement, Rhea ran her tounge along her teeth, her tounge piercing clinking across each tooth. She turned to Damian who was smirking down at her. Dominik stood running his hand across a growing bulge in his tight black and white printed leggings and watched as Finn tugged at my black and pink leather strapped top, locking his lips back onto mine as he pushed me back onto the wall. His hand quick to prevent my head from hitting the wall before kneeling down and throwing my left leg over his shoulder, Finn began planting kisses up my inner thigh towards my panties, the heartbeat inside growing stronger with every inch he covered. 

I reached out and motioned a grabby hand towards Dominick who didn’t hesitate to race forward and takeover where Finns lips had been. Our tongue’s entwined in a deep desperation for each other as his hands began exploring over my chest, pulling down the front of my top to expose one of my breasts. Dom twisted and tugged at my nipple as Rhea came over to join, swiftly followed by Damian. 

She turned his hips, so his back was against the wall as Dom and I continued to kiss and Rhea pulled down on his pants, exposing his dick to the cold air. It bounced for a moment in its solid form but before it could react to the fresh air she began running her tounge along it and took it in its whole form to the back of her throat. Beginning to bob her head up and down Dominik’s knees became weak and Finn grabbed onto one of his thighs to support him, pressing him back against the wall. 

Finn tugged at my wrestling gear shorts, knowing full well time was not on our side to be able to fully undress. Instead, he tugged at the fabric pulling it to the side, exposing the mini black laced thong I had worn, hoping to finish off a championship winning night with a trip to our sex pit of a bedroom back home. 

Finns warm tounge moved its way up between my folds, the man clearly enjoying the fact I was already soaked down there as he began playing with my clit, his tounge reaching its peak before motioning backwards and repeating the movement over and over. My breath hitched in my throat as I broke the kiss off from Dominik, riding out the pleasure of my Irish lover between my thighs, desperate moans escaped my lips which only drove him to speed up. 

Damian reached out both his strong arms and positioned himself between me and Dominik, his strong legs fitting in the gap between Rhea & Finn who were both on their knees already, busy enjoying themselves. Lowering his black ripped jeans Damian took our hands and placed them on his dick as he leant back to the wall, exchanging make out sessions between myself and Dom as we both tugged, rubbed and fondled his cock together. Damian’s cock was something to behold, the sheer size and girth that man wielded made anyone’s insides turn to jelly. To this day I still say a prayer and thank the sex lords from above and below that I get to call him mine. 

It wasn’t long before the knot in between my stomach began to build, and my thighs began to shake as Finn bought me towards my climax. My grip on Damian loosening and Dom now taking over in full as Finn pinned both my wrists against the wall by my sides. His grip so tight on me small bruises had begun to form, but this only drove my inner sex goddess wild as she was dancing in the awash of my orgasm as Finn drove his fingers deep inside me, pounding three at a time with the inward curl that drove every inch of my body crazy, while his tounge punished my clit. 

“Oh shi..Oh sh..Finn, Finn, shh…shhii” My words were loud and broken as I took quick rapid deep breaths, riding out an all-time high that I had waited so long for it seemed like my body wasn’t quite ready for this flood of pure hormonal ecstasy. 

Rhea, Damian and Dominik all turned their heads to watch as I reached my orgasm, face fully flushed and legs trembling. Dominick followed quickly behind as my summit had driven Rhea to a desperation of her own and a few deep throated swallows later saw her lapping up the delicious cum shot Dom had gracefully given her. 

Finn was quick to drop my leg and rush to his feet, taking a fist full of my hair and dragging me over to the arm of the sofa. He threw me across and pulled at my hips raising my arse higher in the air for a better access point. He was quick to lower his wrestling gear leggings too as he didn’t hesitate to forcefully ram his rock-solid cock deep inside me, I was now wet enough he could easily bury himself. He began thrusting aggressively, pounding his cock deep inside of me as Damian ditched his hand job from Dominik, planting a final kiss on the boy’s lips and then moved to position himself in front of me, opening my mouth and easing in his cock to touch my tonsils. 

Surprisingly, something had clicked inside of Dom who had pulled Rhea up to her feet and had attempted to throw her over the foldup chair in the corner of the room, not far from where Finn and Damian were fucking me front to back. Rhea had smirked at his attempt and wagged her finger in his face before pulling him into a deep kiss and whispering in his ear, “Aye Papi, look at you being the dominant one.” She smirked and winked before finishing her sentence; “Beg me baby boy”. 

Dom grinned and got down on one knee, peppering her thigh with sweet intensive kisses as he began his pleas. Taking a handful of his hair she pulled the boy up to his feet and walked them both over, kicking the stool over and having Dom take a seat. Then Rhea placed one hand on Damian’s shoulder and had him remove his cock from my mouth before Rhea climbed on the sofa cushion in front of me and pulled me into a deep sensual kiss. Damian didn’t hesitate to lower Rheas black leather gear shorts and bury his cock inside of her. 

Dominick sat watching his four partners in front of him, his two girls being fucked intensely by his two dominant daddies. His dick was quick to harden up again as he reached a hand inside his crotch and palmed at himself, ever so loving the view. 

Between the four of us our moans and groans were loud, desperate and full of passion. They echoed throughout our clubhouse, through the hallways and out of the locker room. It was obvious to passersby what was going on, but no one dared comment. It had become common knowledge regarding the relationship between us all, whether people agreed or not, they were instinctively too afraid of Rhea, Damian and Finn to dare comment. 

 Both men now thrusting in unison, groaned deeply and reached out mirroring each other, taking a handful of their girl’s hair to arch our backs as they reached their penultimate high. A warm sensation filling our cores before releasing their grip on our hair and letting us go. A hard slap on my ass from Finn gave me the go ahead to stand up, Damian knew better with Rhea and stepped back allowing Mami to return to her feet on her own accord. 

“Fuck...” I said, turning my head and stretching out my back as I looked in the mirror to see my now full after sex appearance before noticing the clock which stated we had less than 5 minutes until we needed to be at gorilla. 

“Oh Fuck! Shit, look at me!” I stated trying not to laugh, Rhea was quick to grab my hand and pull me over to the dressing table stationed in the corner where she was fast in fixing my make-up, followed by her own. 

The boys all took a seat on the couch, fist bumping each other for a ‘job well done’ while we girls just laughed. 

Once Rhea had given me the all clear I stood up and began stretching out my arms and neck, readjusting my gear and doing all the final checks. 

“Hermosa, I would have thought Finn had stretched you out enough already, no?” Damian chuckled as Finn looked up and winked in my direction, biting his tounge. 

“Very funny…” I said, looking over to them as we all began to make our way out of the clubhouse. 

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

We briskly raced our way to Gorilla, as each member of the judgment day walked behind me, psyching up for the match ahead. One way or another, I would be walking out of WrestleMania as the new women’s world champion! They all believed in me, heck I believed in me, and I knew I could do this. 

But it was short lived as when we reached the backstage section with the rest of production team, everyone seemed to be looking over in hushed voices or concerned looks. 

Pushing past them all I followed behind Rhea and Damian, holding on tight to Dominik’s hand as Finn closed in behind us. Security were quick to cut us off as they blocked the entrance to the ramp. 

“What the hell? What’s going on?!” Damian was furious at their actions as he came face to face with one of the security guards, Rhea in a stand-off with the other. 

“I’ll tell you what’s going on…” Hunters voice boomed out from behind us as we all turned, Finn now leading our group as my grip on Dom’s hands became tighter with anxiety and he pulled me in close to his side. Behind him, lurked Liv Morgan who was wearing a devilish grin. 

“You four…” Hunter pointed to Rhea, Damian, Dominik and Finn, “are late, get to the ring now! The match is starting in less than one minute! Liv Morgan will be joining you; she will go 1-1 against Abby the Witch for the Women’s world championship”. 

“The Fuck man?!” Rhea shouted, pushing Dom, Myself and Finn out of the way. She stood head on from Hunter, the fire in her eyes burnt with fury. 

“The Hell she will!” Damian’s voice was loud as his voice filled the room. Finn stood staring down the boss in front of him. Triple H held up a hand in Rhea’s face, his persona calm and collected as he turned to face me, smiling. 

“And you y/w/n ...........” 

His words were blunt, cold and full of the authority he loved to push in everyone’s faces. 

...

...

...

“You're fired.” 

[georgiapeach30513]

Perfume on the Shelf

Summary: You told him he had one more chance to cheat, and you were done. Warning him there would be no second chances, but he didn’t listen. Couldn’t believe you. He definitely didn’t think you’d run into his partner’s arms. Jack was always waiting on you to wise up. And now he’s going to show you just how hard soft love can be.

Pairings: Jack O'Malley X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, drinking, cheating, unprotected sex, PIV sex, hard sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3K

Jack O'Malley Masterlist

You didn’t need to say anything or cause a scene. You saw him with another woman. Again. Again he disappointed you. Again he lied to you. Again he chose someone that wasn’t you. You gave him too many chances, and you’re not even sure if it’s because of love, fear, or just fucking stupidity that caused you to stay.

You take a sip of your whiskey. Letting the amber liquid burn down your throat, and give you something to think about besides the way he looked as he pushed into her. Her obnoxious pornstar sounds that echoed out into your home. Yes, he paid for it, but you still lived there. You loved it there, but he tainted it for the last time. It just wasn’t worth the loss of your dignity.

You give the bar a little tap, and the bartender gives you a pitiful look. “Just fucking pour me another round.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Absolutely not,” why the hell would you want to tell a stranger your problems? And what were you supposed to say? My boyfriend that’s a hitman for hire cheats on me all the fucking time, and thinks he should be allowed to that because his job is stressful, and he needs to fuck. Of course you have a perfectly viable pussy that he never complained about, but new pussy just feels different. And he thinks that is justifying his actions to you.

Asshole.

Robert wasn’t a terrible guy, but he was far from being great, or even good, especially in a relationship. You let him use you because you ‘love’ him. You scoff hearing that word in your mouth. While you loved him it was one sided, and you’re beginning to think you didn’t even love him at all. Maybe the idea of him, and that just makes you feel sick. What idea of him? The fact that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone that crosses you? Where have you heard that line before?

You are just as bad as him no matter how you want to think about it. You couldn’t justify how seeing him punish a man that has wronged you made you feel. How you watched him end the life of people for you — for your safety. You know you’re a sicko, but you also know you won’t be disrespected, and you at least are loyal. It wasn’t worth it.

Maybe the cheating throughout your relationship hardened you each time, so that when it was time to break free it didn’t hurt. What hurts is your ego and the fact he trampled all over it. Asshole. Big fucking dick asshole. You hate him, and hate it worse that you allowed him that amount of freedom with your heart.

Maybe shame is a better word to describe things. You just feel numb. Not the sense of relief you thought you would feel but…nothing at all. You tap your finger on the bar, hoping to get a refill soon. You lift the final drink to your mouth, but a thick and heavy hand lays on yours tapping the table and you look to your right. Annoyed that someone had the audacity to stop you, and you glare at the man.

“I think you’ve had enough. She’s had enough,” he says, waving at the bartender.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Jack. You can fuck off, too.”

“Yeah, he told me you hadn’t made it home. I told him you probably did.”

Your eyes downcast to the scratched wood. This bar is nowhere you would have ever found yourself any other time. You didn’t want to be found though. Robert would look at the high end hotel bars. you wanted to be left alone to lick your wounds and wait for him to get an assignment so you can pack up your shit, and leave for good.

“You knew?”

“Knew that he’s always fucking someone? Yeah. You’re the stupid woman that kept making excuses for him. The one that believed him when he said that he wouldn’t ever do it again, and it would last maybe a couple of weeks. Sex was real good at home, but then…like I said last time, he’s insatiable. It’s not you, it really is him. The man has no business being in a relationship. And I told you that. Or did you forget? You thought your pussy could cure his whoring ways,” you snort, your eyes go glossy as you look to the wall of liquor bottles.

Every time he cheated, Jack told you that you would be better off without him. That he wasn’t going to change, and he hadn’t. He was still a man that was going to fuck who he wanted to fuck. “That’s not all you said to me.”

“Oh yeah? And what else did I say, sweetheart?” His foot wraps around the leg of your stool, and he pulls you dangerously close to his own. Placing you right in between his thighs as he leans forward, “Go on, tell me what I said to you.”

“You know,” you whisper, your hand absentmindedly placing on his thigh. You move the hand up, and pull it back down. Looking at his thick leg, he places his fingers on your chin, lifting your gaze to him. Tsking you as he shakes his head. “You know what you said.”

“And I need you to refresh my memory. I easily forget.”

You lean in too close. Your mouth is right at his ear, and you place your lips over the shell, “You told me I could get under you, and you could help me forget him.”

“And what do you suppose I meant by that?” His breath on your neck sends a chill up your spine, and heat pools to your core. You feel like a bitch in heat with how bad you want him to make you forget. You didn’t love Robert, and had no intentions of returning, or even staying here. But something about your goodbye being with Jack’s cock fucking into you sounds delicious.

“I think you meant you want to fuck me,” leaning back you watch as Jack’s pupils expand. Blowing wide with dark pools of lust, and blocking out the crystal blue of his eyes. What both of you are proposing should be forbidden, but you weren’t loyal to any man anymore. You want him. You want him raw and unhinged.

“I think you want to hear what I sound like when I come on your cock. You want to fuck me so good and hard I forget everything I saw tonight. You want me to cry from pleasure instead of betrayal. You want me to be your little slut tonight, and have my cunt milk your cock dry.”

Jack doesn’t respond with words, he lays down a hundred dollar bill and picks you up, throwing you on his shoulder. His eyes roll in the back of his head when he feels your pussy throbbing with a need to be filled. A need to be punished. Carrying you out of the bar before walking down the street.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling because being upside down with some whiskey in your system is making you loopy.

“Uh uh, stay with me. We’re going to a hotel. It’s just a block away.”

“You mean that crummy old motel?”

“Eh,” he shrugs the best he can. “It’s the best option right now. Plus, I know what the best room of the place is. They keep it nice and clean for me. Just trust me,” you didn’t care about trust, you just want Jack to fuck you so you can say a big fuck you to Robert. You hoped that Jack bragged about it. Took a picture of it, hell, record it. You didn’t care. That part of you is no longer there. You want Robert to feel as low as you do, while you moan out another man’s name.

Get to feel blissful for once. You’re an adult, and you have imagined being under, over, beside, upside down, and whatever position this man could come up with, with Jack. The man is attractive, and he’s not been subtle in asking you, more like begging you. You are just now in the right state of mind to receive his kind of attention.

He slams open the door, and slings you on the bed immediately. His hands paw at your pants as he tries to remove your clothes while you look around the room. This is too nice here. It’s bigger than the normal room. “Take your shirt off,” he tells you breathlessly.

His lips attach to your legs, creating a trail of desire all the way up before his sinful mouth is kissing over your drenched panties. “What is this place?”

“It’s my home. Stop talking.”

“You live here?”

“Yes,” he sighs, leaning back on his haunches, and you sit up off the bed watching him. “And I’m apparently a little rusty. I’m pulling out all the stops for you, kissing you over that stupid piece of fabric that you call panties. Moaning at the way you taste, and you’re just worried about my damn hotel.”

“Your hotel?” You didn’t know this about Jack. He’s full of surprises.

“And I’m only mildly offended that you made that gross comment about my crummy hotel, but the fact you’re ignoring my pinky that is only slightly rubbing over you is offensive,” you genuinely smile at him. There’s more to Jack than meets the eye. He really wants you to enjoy this moment. Not just seek revenge on your lying boyfriend, but see him. Pay attention to him, even though you haven’t exactly ignored him.

There’s a true sadness over his face, and you pull off your shirt. Reaching behind you to your bra, “You’re not trying to talk yourself out of sleeping with me this time?” You shake your head no. A grin spreads over your face as you let your bra drop into your lap, and he slings it behind him quickly.

Lifting your ass you shake your hips back and forth, removing your panties, and spread your legs wide. Dipping your fingers into your warmth, and you bring them back out. Stretching them wide, and watching as Jack stares at the webbing of your slick coated your fingers.

“Get undressed, Jack,” he does so enthusiastically. Nearly tripping as he tries to rid himself of his clothes, and that glorious cock springs free. Beads of precum shine in the low lighting, and his member twitches with excitement. Kneeling on the bed, he crawls in between your thighs, and you cover your cunt with your hands.

“Oh, come on!” It’s more silly than serious, but he’s adorable being animated.

“First, tell me, is this a one time thing? Or are we going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on?”

“Sugar, I only want you for sex,” no he doesn’t. A man doesn’t chase after a woman for years just for sex. But you want him to admit it to you. It could be all there is, or it could be that he wants to sneak around some more. Your bet is on the latter.

“Sure you do.”

“I’m being honest,” he smiles as he starts to lift your hands away. Holding his cock at the base he runs his blunt tip through your folds. Collecting your arousal, and he dips lower. Pushing just the tip in before he pulls out. “This is just a one time thing. Understand?”

“Then you better fuck me hard and good, so I don’t forget.”

“I’ll fuck you so deep that your body will be mesmerized by me. Crave me for all of eternity, and ruin you for other men.”

“If it’s just a one time thing, why would you do that?” He doesn’t answer. He just crashes into your warmth. So fast that the world spins on another axis, and your body lurches up the bed. You yelp as his cock whispers against your cervix. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as Jack settles into your warmth.

Giving your walls a chance to accommodate his thick girth, and your breathing to regulate again. “What was that you asked?”

“I said,” he pulls out of your pussy, crashing back in, balls deep. Jack’s sack bounces off your ass, and you forget what you were trying to convey. “I said that — oh my fuck!” He does this again. Stopping your line of thought every time. He is almost painfully deep, but your body pulls him closer. Wrapping your legs around his waist, and arching your back.

You want to feel him through your entire body. “I think you were trying to say something?”

“Just fuck me!”

“As you wish,” he drags himself out of you, and starts to piston back in. A brutal pace, and you can’t think of anything else, but the pleasure. The absolute perfect way that this man melts into your body just like you are the perfect fit for him. The bed slams against the wall, and you still need more. Maybe it’s just Jack.

The thought of only getting this one time, and never again is appalling. You need this everyday. You need to receive him multiple times a day. Have him filling you up, but in a weird way, worshiping you. Petting around your face, and giving you the sweetest chaste kisses while he splits you in two. He is demolishing you from the inside out, and you want him to.

You want him to take all that he needs, just so you can thank him for his services. Thrusting into you so hard that you feel bruises being formed at the apex of your thighs. You could get used to this kind of treatment. The treatment that you are the only thing that could ever matter to him. And you are the only one that could make him feel this way.

“Jack! Jack! Jaaaaaacck!”

“I know. And you’re going to take everything that I give you. Whenever I give it to you, you’re going to take it, and you’re going to tell me thank you. Okay?” You nod your head, words barely able to form on your lips, and you take it all.

Every stab into your body, you take it. Every mark he nips onto your neck, you take it. Every sharp pinch to your nipples, you take it. You take everything with fervor. You will take whatever this man gives you. Every bit of it. You’re ruined for other men sexually, if only…

“I’m going to count to three, and we’re going to come together. One,” you pout up at him. Biting on your lip as your walls start to flutter around his wide cock. This is going too fast. If you only get one chance, he should make it last for hours.

“Two,” he softly wipes his thumb over your forehead, removing the sweat that beads along your skin, and you whimper out his name. He is the devil for being too good at this. You want more. More of him. Not just his body. But the buildup is too much. You want to come on his cock. You want to feel him come into you.

“Three,” his word is more like a grunt as your tight pussy clenches down around him. Holding him so tight that you hope you trap him inside until he gets hard again and the two of you die because you can’t stop fucking each other.

One more push into you, and you feel hot ribbons of his cum spurt deep inside of you, and you both mewl at the feeling of your juices mixing into the most beautiful form of arousal. Fusing together as one as you search his eyes. Please. Please let him tell you that one time is never enough. Be good enough that he wants to stay.

He whispers out your name while his breathing is labored, and choked. “I’m not good enough for you. And I’m not good enough to walk away from you either.”

“Good.”

“I need you to get dressed and walk away from me, and this life,” you twist your head to the side and study him. “You deserve a better life than this, and I need…”

“What do you want though?”

“For you to never go anywhere that I’m not. I’ve always wanted you, and you know that,” how could it be possible that you’re now the one that needs him in your life. Jack has tried for so long. Even before Robert became your poison of choice. Why did he stick around and wait for this moment for all that time?

“I want to do this again and again and again. I want you.”

And for the first time in so long, you want to do what you want, too. You want him. You hate this life. But you want him. You can’t go on pretending that this life doesn’t exist because he is all you want. For how long was anyone’s guess because you’re unsure when Jack is who you wanted, and yet you denied him because you were with Robert. But you are tired of pretending, and tired of fighting.

“I’m sorry I tried to make you jealous,” and there it is. The man is finally apologizing after all these years. Games and more stupid games. Games that had real life consequences. Games that made you both take such different paths in life. “I love you.”

“Ehh, we’re not doing that now. I’m sorry I had to make you jealous for making me jealous. And then I got caught in Robert’s web. No more games.”

“None,” he’s tired of the games and chasing as well. Now he just wants to chase you to the bed.

“Just you and me?”

“And the devil makes three,” and that’s how you like it. Equal partners. For now until you each take your last dying breath. Just you. And him. And the devil makes three…

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @rogersbarber

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You sit in the cold room, shivering as your fingers pulse numbly, toes too. They’ve taken your shoes, your clothes, and your freedom. You won’t let them break you though. You won’t let those damned Odinsons win. This isn’t a victory. There are some things they can’t win. 

You shift, taking some of the weight off of your bound wrists. You lean against the wall, shoulders pressed to the plaster, ankles crossed as your keep your knees to your chest in an effort to stay warm. The dampness of the hotel basement adds to the deep chill in your bones as the noise of rumbling washers and dryers whirring from down the hall. You would scream if your could. 

The cloth is dry and gritty in your mouth, remnants of dirty caught in the fabric from your struggle. You fought as hard as you could. You always did and yet it always turned out like this. You were never strong enough. 

You hang your head. You always knew the Odinsons were scum. That there was something twisted about them. Their entitlement always reeked, but this, you couldn’t predict they’d go this far. And for what? A dead woman’s rotting old house. 

No, this isn’t about the house. This is about you. This is because you didn’t let their spoiled little son break you.

You snicker darkly. How it must burn him to know he couldn’t crush the town slut with his wormy dick. That the girl who was already cracked, didn’t just shatter against his inflated ego.  

He’s not as clever as he thinks. Look at you. This is not great trick. This is arrogance. This is desperation. It’s the Odinson way; if you don’t get what you ask for, you take it. 

Your laughter trickles off as you hear the footfalls approach. You hate that you know his gait. That you’re certain it’s him before he even appears. You don’t look up, you won’t suffer the sight of him. 

“I tried to play nice,” he taunts as he closes the door. “I even asked...” 

You lean your head to one side and close your eyes in a yawn. He huffs and his toes taps, the polished leather glinting in the corner of your eye. He steps nearer and looms over you. 

“It didn’t have to be like this.” 

“It does,” you say blithely, “do you really think you are the worst thing that ever happened to me?” You snort, “please.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t believe so. It must be hard to compare between so many,” he mocks, “do you even recall how many there were? Hm?” 

Your lips tauten and you clench your jaw. 

“You always were a pathetic little loser, Loki Odinson,” you sneer. 

“I’m certain you thought so when we met by the river, hm? When you cried to me--” 

“Oh, get on with it,” you snap. “I’m over this. I’m over you,” you lift your chin and glare up at him defiantly, “I haven’t thought of you in twenty years and if you weren’t standing here in front of me, I’d not even know what you look like or how your voice makes my skin crawl. I do not think of you. You are nothing. We both know if you left this forsaken village, you be just another snake in the grass and soon enough you’d be trampled under someone else’s boots--” 

He moves quickly. You can’t react, can’t defending yourself as he kicks to in the chest, putting his sole flat to it as he pins you to the wall. You wheeze and cackle. That’s it. You got him. 

“Let’s think about who is under who’s boot, dear,” he slithers. 

“I...” you rasp, “you know... people talk...” you take tight, tortured breaths under the crush of his boot, “so much and I never heard... of a wife... or children... nothing but... dejection...” 

“Shut up,” he barks. 

“You’re trapped here,” you croak, “by your own fucking... fear. Because you’re scared... that Loki Odinson... is no one--” 

He brings his toe up to your chin, kicking you so your jaw snaps shut and your teeth pinch your tongue painfully. You taste blood as you land on your side. You groan and try to blink away the silver stars in your vision. 

“Aw, baby...” your legs fold over limply, “did I hit a nerve--” 

He squats down and fists your hair, ripping your head up violently. Twisted on your side, your eyes roll with the lingering impact of his kick. You grin with blood coated teeth. 

“You never used to talk so much--” 

“Ptah!” You spit your mouthful into his face. He lets you go and you barely keep your head from hitting the floor. He wipes his cheek and grimaces. “You always talked too much.” 

He doesn’t say a word. You hear a metallic tink, the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle. How many times had you heard that? How many times did you close your eyes and just wish it was over? 

You brace yourself and use all your strength to move. You roll onto your back and plant your feet. You turn yourself as fast as you can, leaning your weight on your shoulders as you use your legs to maneuver. You fling your foot up and land your shot true.  

Your foot crunches into Loki’s crotch as he stands pompously over you. He gurgles and goes rigid as his legs lock. He grips tight the leather of his belt and trembles before he falls to his knees. You kick again, this time catching his stomach. He puffs out with a gasp and you go for a third. 

You miss his face as he shields himself with his forearm. He grunts as he cups his pants with one hand and grabs your ankle with his other. He yanks you, twisting your foot away from his face as you aim your heal at his jaw once more. He latches onto your other ankle and flips you over, swinging around to straddle you as you flail your legs. 

Your knees hit the floor painfully as he pins you. He turn himself around so he’s facing your head and he smacks the back of your skull. He growls and lifts himself slightly. The buckle clinks again and leather swishes against fabric. You snarl as he hooks the belt around your neck and pulls it tight, forcing your head back. 

“I know you remember this feeling,” he bends to hiss against your scalp, “I know you think about this every night. I want you to think about it every second of every day...” he yanks the belt until you can’t breathe, “you will never forget me. Never.” 

[feeder86]

SNAP!

SNAP!

“Ow! Shit! What the hell…?” Joel shouted, turning around to see what had hit him hard on his backside. He could feel the skin on his rear stinging. Whatever it was that had smacked him, his ass hurt like hell! But as he looked around, he couldn’t see anyone there in the moonlit garden. “Shit!” he moaned again, rubbing his butt, hardly believing that it was still hurting so much.

“What’s the matter?” Harry drunkenly asked, walking into the garden himself, chuckling from his friend’s unknown misfortune. “Ow! SHIT!” he blasted himself a moment later. “Who the fuck was that?”

“Argh! Fuck me!” blasted Danny, as he too followed them both. Joel could just make him out, standing there on the path, rubbing his own rear. “What the fuck is going on?” He ripped his cell phone from his pocket, letting the screen light up and cast a dim glow on the garden as the boys all came together, back on the path. 

There, standing in front of them, was an older, stern-looking woman, staring up angrily. She held a walking stick in her hand and the boys immediately knew that that was clearly the source of their current discomfort.

“What the hell are you doing, old woman?” Harry grumbled, still rubbing his ass. “That fucking hurt y’know!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” the woman shot back, pointing the stick up at his face, so close that he went cross-eyed from following its swift movement. “You’re trespassing! I’ve seen you boys here every night this week; drunk on beer and taking a shortcut through my garden; trampling through all my plants!”

“This is assault, you know that?” Danny shot back, incensed by the pain he still felt. “You’re a fucking danger! Old hags like you should be in a nursing home!”

His head spinning from the beer, Joel put a hand on his buddy’s broad back,seeing that he was going a little far. The old lady was quite right after all, they weren’t supposed to be there in her garden.

“I was married to a jumped-up, arrogant pig, just like you three,” the woman began, still managing to make eye contact with all of them, even with Danny’s cell phone shining in her face. “He thought that the world should revolve around him too; that no one else mattered but him,” the lady continued, showing them all her contempt and disgust. “He was under the impression that his good looks were all he needed in life. And just like you three, he didn’t have any manners or respect for women either.” She paused; the garden becoming eerily quiet. “You’ll get what you deserve though. The way you treat people in life always has consequences.”

“Whatever!” Danny huffed, continuing to charge through the garden to jump the fence at the other end. “Come on guys. Just ignore her,” he called back to them both.

“You’ll see!” the old woman cried with a voice dripping with satisfaction. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, or ten years from now, but one day everyone will see what arrogant pigs you really are.

Joel heard Harry begin to follow on. Feeling a pit of guilt about upsetting the old lady, he waited a moment longer. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, before turning and following the other two; climbing the fence and making that shortcut back to the frat house.

Over the following years, Joel looked back fondly on his time in college. He’d worked hard and played harder. But it had also got him to where he needed to be in life: a good job, with plenty of travel opportunities; perfect for someone with few aspirations to ever settle down. Back in the day, he would have said that Danny was a closer friend to him than Harry. However, it was only Harry that he remained in contact with these days. Sometimes that was just the way life worked out.

“There you are, you handsome bastard!” Harry cried; his face lighting up as soon as he saw Joel arriving at the wedding venue. “Have you ever seen a prettier face on a guy than this one here?” he joked to those around him as he embraced Joel for the first time since his stag party a couple of months earlier.

“How are you feeling? Nervous?” Joel asked his friend. He stepped back, feeling that something was different when he hugged Harry. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching a hand out to rub a small paunch that seemed to be sprouting from Harry’s middle. “Have you been stress eating?” he joked, finding it incomprehensible that fitness-obsessed Harry would ever carry a few extra pounds on his athletic frame.

Harry laughed, but immediately changed the subject, clearly embarrassed about his new shape. Joel looked on as his buddy nervously paced up and down, checking on things before his bride would be arriving. His suit was surprisingly ill-fitting. The pants were snug around his butt cheeks and Joel wasn’t altogether convinced that the top button was in place underneath the guy’s belt. It was clearly a fresh gain, for Harry had shown no signs of getting a little chunky at the stag party when he’d raved all night without a shirt on. In fact, even when his stunning bride arrived, walking down the aisle, her eyes were not filled with the loving adoration that most would expect. Instead, she frowned, seeming to silently scold Harry as she looked down at the tight stretch of his shirt buttons.

Joel’s attention soon started to wander as the day went on. Harry had clearly started early that morning, building his courage before the ceremony. So when the beers and champagne flowed later on, it was clear that he was struggling a little more than most. The chief bridesmaid was ridiculously sexy and as Joel made enquiring eyes over in her direction, he was pleased to see that the interest appeared to be mutual. There weren’t many people that Joel knew at the wedding, and aside from the guys he’d met at the stag party, he’d turned his charm up to full blast in order to make friends. But that bridesmaid was still looking over at him, getting Joel so aroused that he didn’t even notice a gluttonous Harry making his fifth tour of the buffet. The sex, when they eventually made it that far, was pretty decent for a one-night fling, and Joel lay back in bed feeling more than satisfied; content to stay there the entire night and enjoy a second round in the morning.

“It was a good wedding yesterday,” Joel rambled after they came. It was still too early in the morning to just take off; feeling that he needed to hang around for at least twenty minutes so that it didn’t seem rude. “I think they’ll be very happy together.”

The bridesmaid huffed sceptically. “Ya think?” she asked, as if she knew something Joel didn’t. Then, when Joel looked at her curiously, she rolled her eyes and told him everything. “Harry and I slept together a couple of nights ago. He told me he’d always had a thing for me and that he couldn’t get married without having me first… We were both drunk. He came in less than three minutes. It really wasn’t good!”

“Harry cheated?” Joel asked, completely shocked. He could hardly believe it. Then again, he’d been so turned on when he’d spotted this girl only yesterday. He couldn’t imagine having to stare at her for years and years and never getting to have any fun with her. It was the whole reason why Joel never did relationships, and he made thoroughly sure that everyone knew it. “Does anyone know that you two..?” he began asking.

“No. I’ve not told anyone. It doesn’t exactly make me look good, does it? Sleeping with my best friend’s husband!” She sighed and held her face in her hands.

Joel was soon putting his pants back on and making his escape. He slipped back into his own room and freshened up before heading down for breakfast in the hotel. It was still early and not many had made it down as yet. However, there was Harry, still dressed in his tight pants and shirt from the night before, greedily feasting from one of the many plates of food he’d brought back to his table.

“Hey, buddy!” Joel cried, slipping his hands onto Harry’s shoulders as if to massage him. “What’re you doing up so early? And where’s your wife?” he laughed, trying his best to forget about the guy’s infidelity. 

Harry didn’t answer. He only ate.

“Is everything alright with you two?” Joel asked, setting aside his usual boyish bravado whilst he spoke to Harry now. The revelation of Harry’s cheating had unnerved him.

“I woke up feeling really hungry,” Harry replied between mouthfuls. “Has the fresh bacon come out yet?” he asked, looking up at the buffet tables. “They said it was coming.”

Joel could see several greasy plates, already emptied and waiting to be collected from Harry’s table. “Dude, it’s the morning after your wedding. Why are you worrying about bacon?”

“Is the bacon ready, or not?” Harry demanded aggressively.

“Harry!” Joel gasped in shock. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

Seeming to realise he’d overstepped, Harry looked ashamed, dropped his fork and put his hand to his surprisingly sweaty forehead. “Joel, I don’t know what’s happening to me!” he mumbled. “I did something, and now…”

Harry suddenly looked like he was fighting something inside of himself. His body jerked forwards slightly and it seemed almost as if something was trying to climb out of his throat. That was when it happened. He snorted quietly, as if making an impression of a baby pig. Immediately, the tension in his face seemed to retreat and he snorted twice more, just a little louder, before picking up his fork again and setting back to the copious amount of food still on his plate.

Joel suddenly found that his heart was racing. It wasn’t the fact that Harry had just done something so strange; it was the fact that he had done something that was actually unsettlingly familiar…

Eight years earlier, it had been the boys’ final weeks in college. Despite the beautiful sunshine that had arrived, everyone had grown strangely serious, studying and spending every last minute thinking about their final projects. Everyone, that was, apart from Danny. He’d always been the party-boy; the bad influence, always getting himself into trouble. But now the guy had seemed to drop off the face of the Earth. Perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising, given that everyone Joel knew had come to him and asked if he’d heard from Danny since it had all kicked off after the final football game of the season. There had been a huge party and, just like the other boys, Danny had become very drunk, very quickly.

“I hope he’s ashamed of himself,” Emma stated snootily. “Doing that to Jemma just before her final exams! It’s unforgivable.” 

Joel tried not to take sides or nod in any way that might signal to Emma that he agreed with her. After all, Danny was his best friend. He’d made a mistake, getting so drunk and kissing Harriet like that. But we’re all human. Mistakes are what we’re best at. 

“He’s not replied to any of my messages since last Tuesday,” Joel explained, trying to reframe the situation and let Emma see that he was currently more concerned about Danny’s safety than he was about Jemma’s broken heart. “Even his mom hasn’t heard from him since the weekend.”

“Hopefully he’s dead in a ditch somewhere!” Emma snapped unsympathetically, refusing to be drawn into the building crisis. Then she strutted away from Joel as if he too was contaminated by Danny’s deceit. 

Joel tried not to let the worry overtake him. The guy in the dormroom next to Danny had reported hearing him going in and out at strange times. However, Danny hadn’t ever been in when Joel had tried to reach him. Either that, or he simply hadn’t opened the door.

“I need to get into my friend’s room,” Joel explained to the lady at the desk, flashing his devilishly handsome smile, whilst maintaining the doe-eyed look of concern. Even at that age, Joel was more than aware that his good looks were going to get him further in life than any college degree could “No one has heard from him in days. His mom is calling me up every couple of hours.”

“Oh, dear!” the lady replied, rising to her feet. “Well, it’s not really allowed. But this clearly isn’t a normal situation. I suppose, if I came with you, it should be okay…” she pondered aloud, stepping out from behind the desk, ready to follow Joel wherever he was leading her and trying her best not to stare at his cute little butt as she trotted on behind him.

The smell of stale sweat and old beer hit the nostrils hard as soon as Danny’s door was opened. Both of them recoiled a little as they entered the dark space, where the curtains had clearly been drawn for many days. Joel’s finger slid over the greasy light switch, illuminating the large body of the Quarterback sprawled, face down and naked over the bed. 

Joel’s feet kicked through empty food cartons and beer bottles as he rushed over to check if Danny was okay. He pushed his hand against the guy’s broad back, surprised at how hot and almost feverish the skin felt to the touch. Breathing just fine, Joel knew that his buddy was most likely on the verge of one hell of a hangover. Perhaps he should have been more weirded out that his friend’s naked, meaty butt was on show, but Joel had seen Danny without his clothes on so many times before: in the changing rooms, or when he was irredemably drunk or high and letting his exhibitionist side out.

“I think we should open the window,” the lady suggested, holding her finger over her nose and looking like she had no intention of doing it herself; or even touching anything in the dirty room.

Feeling obliged to her for getting him inside, Joel immediately followed her suggestion. “I can look after him from here,” he offered, seeing how uncomfortable she was. “I think he might have just had a little bit too much to drink.”

“I think you need to pick your friends more wisely,” the lady whispered to Joel. She was looking over at Danny’s hunched over form; his naked rear pointing directly in her direction as he let rip in his sleep.

“I will,” Joel smiled, determined to remain polite but desperately wanting to get her out so that he could speak to Danny properly and find out what on earth was going on with him. He followed her to the door, closing it behind her, even though the smell of the room was really quite potent.

The mess all over the floor was unreal, like Danny had invited a hundred people over to party in his tiny bedroom.

“Danny! Come on, wake up!” Joel called to him, shaking the football player by the shoulder. He was so hot to the touch, with a thin layer of sweat all over him. “I need to check that you’re okay. Where the hell have you been?”

Danny suddenly stirred and slowly flopped over onto his front. His body on show, Joel instinctively jumped straight off the bed, thinking for a moment that this wasn’t Danny after all. Sitting beneath his mighty pecs was a rather large and distended gut, bloated to the extreme. Danny was groaning and reached his hand to hold it, like it was still expanding and hurting him.

“What the hell have you eaten?” Joel demanded, his eyes wide in shock.

“Everything!” a groggy Danny replied.

“Danny, look at your stomach!” Joel implored him, demanding that he snap out of his stupor. “Have you taken something?”

Despite shaking his head, Danny didn’t even open his eyes. Whilst rubbing his belly, his other hand went straight to his dick, stroking it up and down, even with Joel there in front of him. 

That was when Joel heard it: the oinking sounds coming from Danny’s throat. Combined with the stomach rubs he was giving himself, it was as if Danny was making the sounds in order to help himself get off.

“Danny, stop!” Joel demanded, trying to rip Danny’s arm away from his dick. But Danny was strong and holding on tight.

“She did it,” Danny murmured. “This is what she wanted. She said.”

“Who did?” Joel asked, watching as Danny appeared to get closer and closer to coming with quite remarkable speed.

“That woman in the garden. She cursed us.” Danny mumbled, his voice getting deeper and deeper as the inevitable was approaching. “She’s turning me into a…” he tried, before the oinking sounded out once again. Huge jets erupted from his dick, landing all over the duvet and even on the sleeve of Joel’s jacket.

“Danny! What the fuck!” Joel shouted, filled with rage and anger now. But all he could see was his bloated friend, grinning with his eyes still closed tight and a look of contentment spreading over him. “That’s not cool!” Joel spat, trying not to look at the semen on his sleeve in fear that he might start gagging. The stench of the room wasn’t helping either. “Fine!” he stated at last. “If you don’t want my help, I’m just going to leave you like this.” 

Joel knew he wasn’t making an empty threat. Why did Danny deserve his help when he’d got himself into a state like this?

“I’m going now,” he announced, hoping that Danny would rouse, even a little, to say something to him.

But Danny was silent and already falling blissfully back to sleep. As Joel left the room, he had no idea that he would actually never see his friend again.

“Harry,” Joel whispered quietly, sitting at the breakfast table with his buddy the morning after his wedding. “Do you remember that time in college when…” Joel began speculatively. 

Harry’s face suddenly turned deadly serious, as if he too had been thinking about exactly the same thing. “Danny,” he mumbled; a name that had not passed his lips in years. He stood, as if in a sudden panic. “I’ve got to go!” he mumbled. “I can’t let this…” 

The kitchen doors swung open and a steaming tray of fresh bacon was making its way to the buffet. Harry’s face calmed, grabbing his plate and rushing over to fill it up; forgetting everything.

Joel left with an uneasy feeling after the wedding and, against his usual policy, he took the bridesmaid’s phone number and asked her to let him know if things were okay with the newlyweds. He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from her less than two weeks later, informing Joel that it was over. Just like that, Harry’s wife had left him, packing her bags and abandoning the apartment that they had lived in together to move back in with her mother.

It was a long drive to get there, but the feeling of dread at the pit of Joel’s stomach was almost too much for him to bear. He’d thought so much about the similarities between what had happened to Harry and Danny, enough to entertain the possibility that curses could actually come true. Perhaps it was the fact that the sting of the walking stick hitting his butt still twinged occasionally. As if the impact of it was sitting just beneath his skin after all these years. He had to see Harry. He had to rid himself of these doubts and worries in his mind. There was no choice in the matter.

Joel couldn’t get into the apartment block; there was no answer when he buzzed through or tried to call Danny’s cell phone. It was only when he caught the door as someone was leaving that he managed to enter and creep up to Harry’s floor. He knocked on the door, getting no response and feeling the strangest sense of deja vu.

“Hi,” Joel smiled at the middle aged lady who answered the door across the hall. He leaned himself into the doorframe and plastered his face with the boyish smile that always got him what he wanted with the ladies. “I’m supposed to be staying with my buddy, Harry, tonight,” he lied, pointing at the apartment door behind him. “I think he must have forgotten what time I was arriving though!” he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically and widening his smile even more still. “I don’t suppose you know whether any of the neighbors keep a spare for that apartment, do they?”

The lady, who had already been beaming at him, nodded emphatically. “It’s Joel, isn’t it?” she asked. “I remember you from the wedding!”

Pretending to remember her, Joel nodded and told her how great it was to see her again. Most people he met seemed to remember him. And so it was that, within no time at all, he was holding the spare key in his hands, bracing himself for what he might find behind Harry’s closed door.

The first thing that hit Joel was the empty space inside the apartment. It was immediately obvious that there had, until very recently, been a lot more furniture inside. The sofas were gone, with piles of papers and junk sitting in stacks around the space. There was a faint sound of heavy breathing coming from somewhere, but the lack of furniture seemed to disorintate Joel as he explored, looking for his friend. Finally, he swung open a door and found the tiny kitchen space. It was an absolute mess, with a large, stout and barely dressed man asleep on the tiled floor; his head propped back against the cupboards. It seemed as if Harry had been to the supermarket only that day, for one of the paper bags remained intact on the floor. The others, however, seemed to have been ripped to shreds the moment Harry had returned. The floor was covered with the evidence of it all; his mouth smeared with bits of everything; an ill-fitting t-shirt stained and stretched beyond anything that would have been acceptable to wear outside of the apartment.

Harry’s gut was monstrous, his belly button deep and highly visible. Still, he looked strong and broad, even intimidating considering the sheer mass of him. How much had he actually eaten to grow so enormous in such a short time? No wonder his marriage was over. He barely resembled the slightly overweight man he had been only a couple of weeks earlier. He’d fallen asleep with his right hand resting inside his overstretched boxers, giving the impression that he’d masturbated before he’d finally lost consciousness. What an absolute mess!

Joel poked at his friend until he started to rouse. “Get up,” he ordered, trying to hide his irritation that Harry had got himself into this state. “I’m here to look after you,” he stated, suddenly realising that this was never going to be a flying visit. There was no point in trying to ask what was going; no hope of getting any sense out of the man.  “Go get yourself a shower and I’ll clean up in here.”

Harry barely seemed to register Joel’s presence as unusual. He rose to his feet clumsily, causing more crumbs and packaging to rain down on the already daunting floor that Joel would have to tidy. He stumbled, almost drunkenly into the door, then strutted, as if unsure of how to carry his own body weight, back into the lounge and disappeared into the bathroom.

“I never told you how bad it was last time I saw Danny,” Joel admitted a couple of hours later, having carried a chair from the bedroom for his buddy to sit on and opting for a short stool for himself. “At least, not the full details,” he admitted, feeling the same sense of shame he had carried with him for years now. How could he have ever abandoned a friend like that? “But, whatever you seem to be experiencing, I think he was going through the same thing. Whatever this is, he wasn’t able to control it either,” Joel stressed, trying to keep Harry’s eyes focused on him. “You’re the only other person in the world who could possibly understand what I’m about to say, but… I think this is all happening because of that night. The old woman in the garden.”

Harry nodded slowly, as if only just comprehending. He sat without a shirt on; his giant butt contained, at least for now, inside straining material that dug sharply into his hips. “She said we were…” Harry started, before Joel stopped him. He didn’t need to hear it.

“I think we need to go back. I think we need to find her. If she’s still alive that is.” He rubbed his forehead, hardly believing that he was saying this. It was all insane madness. Where had his rational brain vanished to? Nevertheless, it was the only course of action he could think of. “First thing in the morning, I’m taking you to that house. And we’re not returning until we have some proper answers.”

Joel made good on his promise, getting Harry out of the apartment bright and early the next day. It hadn’t been easy either; Joel had re-entered the apartment at six in the morning, having crashed in his car for the night as there hadn’t even been a sofa, or comfy chair for him to take inside. Immediately, he had heard the sounds of Harry gorging himself on whatever was left in the kitchen that Joel had spent so long cleaning the night before. He’d been furious and his harsh tone seemed to be the only thing that finally got Harry moving. They’d stopped very briefly for Joel to head quickly into a mall and buy something a little less fitted for Harry. The sight of his big ass crack had turned Joel’s stomach that morning, and there was simply no way he was prepared to let the guy out of the car until that gut of his was covered up.

Harry seemed to drift in and out of full awareness. For ten minutes, he could be bright and clear; explaining vividly why his marriage had so quickly broken down due to the strange urges he’d been experiencing. At these times, he appeared completely self-aware and disgusted with himself. Then, after this period ended, he seemed to become more animalistic. His urges built until he was growling for Joel to stop and let him buy more food. He’d rub his belly and stroke his dick, complaining bitterly that he couldn’t climax without feeling his belly stretching with food. Joel had yelled at him to put his dick away, fearing that those around them would see. It also made Harry sweat quite considerably. Joel could see the shimmer on the guy’s skin and tried not to retch as he imagined the sweat building under Harry’s armpits and within the folds of skin; all of it soaking into his car upholstery. He put his foot down, driving onwards at a steady pace and making good progress by midday. 

At long last, the two men were pulling up outside the house that they had known so many years ago. There had been so many familiar places on the way in through the city; Joel’s mind singing with nostalgia. If only he was here under more pleasant circumstances.

“Maybe you should wait in the car?” Joel suggested, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a handful of protein bars to distract the glutton whilst he slipped out and locked him inside; knowing that Harry was a little too spaced out to find the unlocking button and that he had at least three minutes before the car alarm would sound. The knowledge of that made him move with a little more haste into the garden and up the stairs to the front door. 

The garden still looked the same as it had back then: well tended and functional, vegetables and fruits growing in most of the spaces. He rang the bell, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. Despite knowing for quite some time that he was coming here, the reality of it only seemed to hit him at that moment, as he waited for someone to answer the door to him.

“Hello!” Joel called out after some time had passed without any response. “My name is Joel Rogerson. I used to go to college here a few years ago,” he tried, not wanting to have come all this way for nothing.

Suddenly there was movement from inside and Joel’s heart quickened again. Someone was coming to the door, one slow step at a time. He braced himself, swallowing hard and trying to look smart for reasons that he could not entirely explain to himself. When the door opened, Joel’s jaw dropped. Standing there was the one person he had least expected to see in the entire world; a face he had not looked upon in many years, but one that he strangely recognised with ease. Unmistakable, it was old buddy, Danny. His face was altered, swollen with fat that had enveloped his entire neck and shrunk his eyes back into his head. He was also shirtless; wide, with an enormous, apron-like gut falling lower than his crotch and a belly button that looked deeper than any Joel had ever seen. He couldn’t imagine the audacity and lack of pride Danny had to come to the door looking like he had.

“No shit!” Danny scoffed, gazing a little down at his old friend, standing there on the porch. “I remember you,” he chuckled, as if he had lived an entire lifetime since their old college days. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Joel replied, caught, almost speechless, at the sight of the monstrously large man Danny had become. Easily surpassing five hundred pounds, Danny loomed large and wide, yet his shoulders appeared strong and masculine, but for the sagging nipples that dripped from his broad chest.

Suddenly, Danny became more interested and his nose twitched, sniffing at the scent he was picking up from Joel. “Who have you brought with you?” he demanded; seemingly excited. He stepped out of the house and gazed into the street, just as Joel’s car alarm burst into life; Harry inside, tearing at Joel’s backpack in the hope of finding more snacks.

Sighing, Joel unlocked the car with a click and Harry immediately climbed out. Amazingly, Danny was charging across the street to meet him; the fat wobbling and the skin folds on his enormous back on show for all to see. He embraced Harry with a genuine delight that he hadn’t shown Joel, guiding him into the house eagerly.

“So, what’s happening to him then?” Joel asked a short while later, once Danny had set Harry up with a large stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that he was already making fast progress with. The whole house was a mess and the kitchen dirtier still. Joel couldn’t imagine accepting any food that came out of it, but Harry didn’t seem to even notice.

“The curse,” Danny chuckled, watching Harry gorging from across the room, like a proud father. “I’m guessing Harry cheated on someone, just like I did. Then, snap! The curse activates… But I’m sure you already worked that out.”

“It’s true then,” Joel sighed, losing all hope of this being one large and unfortunate coincidence.

“Of course it is!” Danny chuckled, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry as he attacked the stack of sandwiches with nothing but pure gluttony. His eyes seemed to sparkle with delight, or worse, nostalgia.

“Is this how it happened to you?” Joel asked, setting aside his own guilt for abandoning Danny all those years ago.

“Pretty much!” Danny nodded, smirking as Harry seemed to speed up with his eating. “The food’s not even important. The curse is what is making him fat, not the calories. But it’s still fun to watch, eh?” he smiled, nodding briefly at Joel.

“How do we stop it?” Joel asked with a little impatience.

“You don’t,” Danny replied, suddenly short-tempered. “I came here, trying to find the old lady who did this. She let me stay here; said she needed a good, strong fat boy to look after her garden whilst she’s away. That’s how I ended up staying here. She grows things in the garden; special things that draw power from the soli; something can only be found in this area.” He looked at Joel, sensing his disbelief. “I don’t know how it works. “I just do as I’m told. I live here, rent-free, and have a little security guard job that keeps me in food,” he grinned, patting the monstrous tank of belly fat he had amassed. “She’ll be so pleased when I tell her Harry has shown up here at long last as well.”

“He’s not staying here,” Joel stated with absolute conviction, realising that Danny had altered beyond anything he recognised now. He was no friend; not any more. “He’s not going to end up like you have. I’ll make sure of that.”

Danny simply smirked at Joel’s challenge and called over to Harry as he watched the man snaffle the last of the bread. “Did you enjoy that?” he teased patronisingly, as if speaking to a child. He raised himself slowly and Joel tried hard not to look at the enormous ass on the man; each glute pumped full of fat, yet remaining strong and capable. “I’ve left out another little treat for you,” he went on, heading to the pantry and returning with a large carton of ice cream. He handed it to Harry, and chose to sit next to him now, deliberately goading Joel as he slipped his fat arm over his old friend, as if claiming him for his own. “You get that down you. You’ll feel better then… I promise.”

As much as Joel had wanted them both to leave, he knew his best hope of getting in touch with the old lady who had created the curse was to hang around and pick from what he could in the house. He’d pretended to need the bathroom, knowing he wouldn’t be missed downstairs, then slowly went on the hunt for anything that might help him. He wouldn’t be missed downstairs, given how infatuated the enormous Danny seemed to be with watching Harry eat.

There were three bedrooms in the house. Danny’s one was obvious straight away. His bed had become a giant pit, sinking in the middle and smelling of stale sweat. Empty snack wrappers and cartons filled the space in much the same way they had the last time Joel had gone in his dorm room and it was obvious, by the simplest of glances, that this was the room of a very obese man. Joel had hoped to find something in the other rooms, but they were nothing but dusty, soulless spaces, devoid of anything interesting whatsoever. Still he tried, lifting the mattresses and searching behind the wardrobes for anything that might help him track down the old lady who had once lived here; something he knew Danny would never help him do.

“That’s it, Piggy!” Danny cried from downstairs, accompanied by loud, deep moans from Harry. “Get every last drop down!”

Joel raced down, wondering what on earth Danny was inflicting upon Harry and kicking himself for having left him alone in the first place. He arrived in the living room just as Harry ejaculated all over his now naked body. His dick was very firmly in Danny’s fist, even as the fat man held a giant gallon bottle of milk over his open mouth. “What are you doing?” Joel demanded. “Leave him alone!”

Danny smiled at Harry, then leant in for a kiss, which Harry gladly accepted and returned; their tongues fusing together as Joel could only watch on. Then, rising to his feet, Danny’s smile faded and he looked grim-faced at Joel. All of a sudden, Joel felt himself being grabbed by his t-shirt and pushed back over the sweaty sofa; his chin held by Danny’s arm and the rest of him pinned against the enormous man’s mass. At that moment, Danny’s part time job as a security guard seemed to make perfect sense. Joel hadn’t even seen it coming and he squirmed, finding it hard to catch his breath.

“You’re killing my mood,” Danny growled at him. “All I’m doing is playing with the pig.”

“Harry… Harry,” Joel gasped, trying to look up at his friend, only inches away from him; sitting on the sofa where he had been laid out flat by the gigantic fat man. “Get him off me!”

Danny chuckled, looking across at Harry himself. “Keep eating, Fat Boy!” he teased. “Grow nice and fat for me!”

To Joel’s astonishment, Harry did exactly as he was told, picking up more of the food Danny had brought in and feeding himself without a single concern about Joel’s ongoing attack.

“He’s mine now!” Danny declared. “But thank you for bringing him to me. You can go home now.”

Harry!” Joel tried one last time; practically begging for him to get up off his ass and get Danny away from him. “Please!”

“You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?” Danny growled. “But there were three little piggies who were cursed that night, remember…”

Seeing that Harry was not coming to his aid, Joel stared hard into Danny’s eyes; his gaze stern and defiant. “I’m nothing like you!” he growled with all the energy he had left in him.

Danny seemed to lower his face down to him and Joel tried to shrink away as he felt the disgusting guy’s hot breath on his face. “Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” Danny whispered in an almost inaudible tone.

Joel felt like he was about to pass out. The room seemed to go dark and he had the strangest feeling of suddenly being outside of his own body. Someone, somewhere, had started oinking like a pig.

When the room came back into focus again, Danny was stood again, with a naked Harry and his stout little belly standing by his side. They were both laughing, very clearly, at him; as if he had just done something he wasn’t even aware of.

Joel rubbed his face and rose properly to his feet, surprised by how dizzy he felt. He grabbed at Harry’s newly bought clothes, empty and discarded on the floor and held them out to him. “Harry, get dressed!” he demanded, feeling physically afraid to stay here any longer. “Come with me now.”

The two men were laughing at him still; as if every word that came out of his mouth was gibberish.

“I mean it, Harry! We have to leave!”

Finally, with no other idea of what to do, Joel threw the clothes down and headed straight for the door. He didn’t look back as his car engine roared into life. He’d done it again; taken the easy option, just as he had eight years earlier. And in doing so, he’d just kissed any hope of saving Harry goodbye.

Joel’s experience played on his mind for months. He felt irritable and impatient with people. He now knew for certain that a curse lived within him, like a parasite waiting for the order to eat him up from the inside. There was no one in the entire world who could know what it was like to live like that; there was no one who would believe him if he tried to explain it. Joel had never really considered marriage and starting a family, but now he felt like those options no longer existed for him anyway. Why open up to someone properly when the temptation to cheat could have such disastrous consequences? Why start a family when his whole life could suddenly fall apart, like Harry’s had?

Going back to his old life was never going to work, and Joel knew it. He needed a fresh start; to get away and make new experiences for himself. Working for a global company, there were occasionally opportunities for someone to make a big leap, just like Joel needed now. When the Gold Coast position came up, it felt like it was meant to be. Joel could easily see himself living in Australia. He’d always been a keen surfer and the lifestyle out there seemed to match entirely with his personality. As such, he didn’t waste any time in submitting an application; already starting to plan his big move.

“May the best candidate win!” Sarah smiled as she passed Joel in the corridor. “I hear you’re going for the transfer too?”

Joel raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew that other people had the option to try out for the new job, but he hadn’t heard anyone else expressing an interest. If he was honest, he wouldn’t have minded all that much if someone else did go for it, but not Sarah. She had one of those formidable personalities: smart, alert and highly capable. She seemed to give off exactly the sort of energy and ethos the company liked best; it was clear to anyone who met her that she was climbing the ranks at rapid speed.

“How come you want to transfer to the Gold Coast?” Joel asked, trying not to let his longing for the job shine through. “I thought you’d want to be heading your way to head office and really start making a name for yourself?” he tried, hoping his words might make Sarah rethink.

“Oh, absolutely!” Sarah nodded. “But this job will be amazing for me, at least for a few months, don’t you think? Just imagine the experience I’ll get!” she beamed.

Joel bit his tongue. Sarah was willing to ruin this opportunity for him just to boost her CV. He could tell that she already knew she had the job, and why wouldn’t she? Everyone seemed to think the sun shone out of her ass. But she didn’t know how much Joel needed this move, and he doubted very much that an ambitious girl like her would even care if he ever tried to explain it to her.

It wasn’t Joel’s finest moment, but as he saw Sarah’s application form sitting there on their line-manager’s desk whilst she was out to lunch, he did the only thing he felt he could do to take back some sort of control in his life. Sifting through the papers, he took out the optional personal statement where Sarah always seemed to excel. He read it through, shaking his head. He’d spent hours trying to sell himself on his application, yet Sarah’s words were all so much better than his. Hell, if he was choosing, there’s no way he would give the job to anyone else after reading this. It was instinct: scrunching the personal statement into a ball and quickly scurrying out of the office, knowing that he had definitely given himself a much better chance: a last hope. There would be plenty more opportunities for the likes of Sarah. But, right now, Joel had to put himself first. He deserved this after all he had been through recently.

It was the Friday of that week when it happened. The clock ticked to midday and Joel suddenly felt an almighty, thunderous slap on his butt. He was sitting down at his desk at the time and he jumped up shouting a loud expletive. Everyone looked up at him from their computers, some scowling and sheltering their phones to protect customers from hearing any more unprofessional workplace language. 

Joel didn’t care. He rubbed his ass, wondering what the fuck had hit him like a sharp, stinging cane travelling at a hundred miles an hour. Had no one else heard the loud SNAP as it had connected with him?

He sat back down, still grumbling as the busy office continued on regardless.

“Are you all right?” asked one of Joel’s colleagues. “You were in the bathroom for like, half an hour.”

Joel shook his head. “Was I?” he asked, squinting to see the time on his computer. It was almost the end of the day and he was nowhere near done with everything he needed to do. He rubbed his forehead, feeling how sweaty and warm he felt. “Have they turned the heat up or something?”

Surveying him from a distance, Joel’s colleague felt confident in her diagnosis. “I think you’re coming down with something,” she declared, before insisting that he went home a little early.

Although Joel remembered agreeing to leave work, it was gone eight in the evening before he found himself finally getting into his apartment. He felt so hungry, deciding that he was going to grab something and then head straight to bed in order to shake off whatever this strange funk was.

Joel was woken by a knock at his door. He looked around, seeing he’d drifted off on his couch and he slowly got himself up. He brushed his hand through his hair, still feeling that he had a temperature. He almost forgot what he was getting up for, until he heard the knock again; louder and more impatient.

“Hey there!” smiled Freya, leaning seductively against the doorframe. “Did I interrupt a workout?” she teased, seeming to appreciate the sweaty sheen on him and the way Joel’s t-shirt was clinging to his toned chest. 

Joel knew what Freya wanted. She only ever came round when she was bored and horny. Then, most of the time, being the gentleman that he was, joel would sort her out and have some fun along the way. As occasional fuck-buddies went, Freya was a smoking hot choice. Her hand slipped onto his shoulders and they began smooching right there on the doorstep.

Freya must have peeked during their kiss, for she pulled out of the kiss suddenly. “Jeez, Joel! Your apartment is a mess!” she laughed. “I’ve never seen it like this!”

Joel knew he hadn’t hoovered since last weekend and he shrugged, not wanting to turn around and look when he was holding Freya’s beautiful hips in his hands.  “Shall we go straight to the bedroom then?” he asked.

Freya smiled back at him, glad that their foreplay time was getting shorter and shorter these days. They both had an itch to scratch, so why waste time?

Twenty minutes later, Joel had never felt more embarrassed in his life as he came out of his bedroom, trying to convince Freya to stay a little longer. He’d never had these issues before. He was young, fit and very accomplished in the bedroom. These sorts of things didn’t happen to guys like him.

Freya didn’t seem to have any patience and actually seemed deeply offended. No matter what she had done, where she had put Joel’s dick, or how much effort she put in, Joel just wasn’t getting hard with her. “Maybe we could try again tomorrow?” Joel asked, keen not to lose his occasional bed companion, or for her to spread the word that he hadn’t been able to get it up. But Freya was not stopping for a chat. She’d made her frustration quite plain in the bedroom and, within a moment, Joel found himself alone, looking down at his dick, wondering what the hell had just happened. Whatever lurgy he was suffering from today, he wasn’t feeling at all himself.

“Joel? Where are you, buddy? It’s gone 9am.”

Joel shook his head and tried to make sense of why his boss was calling him. He looked across at the clock on the wall. It was twenty past nine, but he had no idea whether that was morning or night. It certainly couldn’t be Monday morning, surely?

Sensing his grogginess, Joel’s boss blundered on, filling the silent void where Joel was still trying to think of what to say. “Angela said you looked like you were coming down with the flu on Friday before you left? I’m guessing you haven’t had much of a weekend?”

“No,” Joel replied, rubbing his sweaty face, finally ready to believe that he was actually late for work. “I’ve been pretty spaced out. I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like some sort of fever. I didn’t even realise it was Monday already.”

“Joel, it’s absolutely fine,” his boss replied; her voice full of understanding and concern. “Five years you’ve worked here and never taken a sick day. I was starting to think you were super-human or something. Please look after yourself, go see a doctor and give me a call when you think you’ll be ready to come back in.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbled, already losing track of what his boss was saying: too much information all in one go.

“When you come back, I’ll want to talk to you about your application for the transfer too,” she went on. “You were by far the strongest candidate with your personal statement. Even Sarah failed to sell herself on her application form. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“You mean, I got it?” Joel asked, suddenly brought back to life by the news. 

“We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better,” his boss chuckled. “But, yes. Well done, Joel. You did it!”

After putting the phone down, Joel felt a burst of energy and clarity that he hadn’t experienced in some time. He’d got the job! Even Sarah hadn’t been able to outdo him this time!

But then Joel’s smile faded. He began to think back to the week before, when he had slipped out part of Sarah’s application and kept it. He’d got the job by cheating; he knew that. And if no one had noticed before the midday deadline last Friday, her application would have been seriously weakened. But, he’d cheated, Joel’s mind kept on reminding him, and Sarah had suffered for it. He remembered the weird thwack he’d felt on his butt that lunchtime, bringing back that awful memory of the night he, Harry and Danny had been caught in the old lady’s garden, back in college. That was the last time he’d experienced pain like that before. He’d cheated, his mind repeated. Like a selfish pig.

Joel felt his heart sink like an anchor plunging into icy seawater; yet it began beating faster than he had ever felt it before. He shifted from this way to that, not knowing where to go. He eventually found himself in the bathroom, feeling the sudden urge to pour cold water over his face to try and keep his mind focused. It was the first time he’d noticed that he was still naked after getting frisky with Freya. Had that been Friday night? Saturday? Time had gotten away from him. Then, in the reflection, he saw it for the first time. The masking of his abs with a budding layer of fat. It had surreptiously built, thickening his waistline as Joel twisted to see if what he was actually seeing was true. He looked like he’d gained twenty pounds in a single weekend. “No, no, no, no!” he panicked, twisting further to see his small, tight buns also looking thicker and beefier. Then he pushed his face into the mirror, observing the start of a small chin under his handsome jawline. “No! Fuck!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. It was all so unfair! This was all happening because of fucking Sarah? Where the fuck was the justice in that?

Joel needed to do something. He could explain! He probably still had Sarah’s personal statement scrunched up in his pocket somewhere. He could take it to his boss and confess to what he had done. It didn’t have to be too late! 

But just as soon as this thought came to him, Joel suddenly felt a sharp pain attacking his stomach. With his fingers, he gripped the edges of the sink and lowered his head, growling with discomfort. It almost seemed like his insides were being rearranged, his stomach tying itself in knots. Joel tried to push against the unpleasantness, to squeeze it back from wherever it came from. But there was a feeling, like something trying to creep its way up his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror to see what it was as he couldn’t hold onto it anymore. “Oink, oink!” he heard himself snort. The feeling of relief was instantaneous. “Oink, oink!” he cried again, not fighting the urge this time; the pressure in his stomach decreasing dramatically.

Within a few more seconds, the episode seemed to be over. He gazed at his body once more, surprised to see that his little paunch had appeared to gain a few more pounds again. He was getting love handles, curving out to the sides! Yet, there it was: the erection that had so evaded him during his evening with Freya. Pumped full of blood, it tingled with wild sexual energy, like he had never felt before. His train of thought lost, Joel put his hand to it and fell even further.

Joel couldn’t remember going out for supplies, but he cringed as he saw how he had dressed himself. Having planned to go to the gym on Saturday morning, his tight shorts, fitted sleeveless t-shirt and trainers were the only things he had left out for himself. Now they all seemed to fit horrifyingly badly. In the last couple of days, his stomach had been swelling up, becoming like a small tire around his waist. He’d developed love handles like he’d never seen before, soft and doughy to the touch, whilst his belly button had seemed to deepen with each passing hour. He gazed in horror at himself, seeing how he had the appearance of a man who had no comprehension of how dreadful he looked; his fleshy stomach peeking out below his t-shirt, his underwear and shorts not quite large enough to cover his rear; a sweaty ass crack on display for all to see. Had he bumped into someone he knew as well? He couldn’t quite remember properly. All his memories seemed shrouded in a fog. He’d offended someone. There had been shouting. Now there was cake, or chocolate sauce, or something along those lines, all smeared around his face.

How long had it been since the curse had activated? All sense of time was lost and Joel seemed incapable of remaining level-headed for more than a few minutes at a time. He now understood why Harry had been behaving in the way that he had. He couldn’t imagine the mental effort it must have taken for him to recite his wedding vows after this had all started. 

But what about Danny? How had he done it? He may not have been anything like the guy Joel remembered, but he didn’t seem to have the same difficulties with staying lucid. He even had a job! Was that because he wasn’t trying to fight it anymore?

As he thought, Joel suddenly realised his hand was in his pants, tugging at his dick; his other hand sliding across the fresh fat in his middle. He growled angrily in frustration that he barely seemed able to do anything for more than two minutes before he was gorging himself on something, or trying to pleasure his body in other ways. He needed to work past this stage and quickly. He needed his mind back and to end the mental exertion of fighting this.

“I’m giving into this curse. I surrender,” Joel told himself in the mirror, looking straight into his own eyes as if speaking to the curse within. “You win!” he told it. “I’m a…” he hesitated, finding it hard to say the word. “I’m a pig!”

Afterwards, Joel couldn’t remember a thing. He seemed to have skipped days and days. He looked at his body, all bloated with pounds and pounds of even more fat. He’d developed a gut, fleshier nipples and a rounded double chin. His ass appeared to have doubled in width; his thighs fleshy but strong. There wouldn’t be a thing in his whole apartment that would conver his body now and yet, there were larger pants and t-shirts waiting in parcels that he didn’t remember ordering. 

Joel pinched and grabbed at the flesh, feeling his hardness throbbing as he did so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t need to worry about work anymore and there was a nagging feeling that he would have to leave his apartment soon. Had something happened? He chuckled at the vague memories that passed through his mind. He would need to find somewhere else to go…

“Well, well, well!” Danny sniggered as Joel let himself into the house near their old college campus. “What have we here?” he chirped, standing up and admiring the changed form of Joel.

It had taken so much training for Joel to handle the long journey up here, but he’d managed it at long last. His mind had needed sharpening, his attention span building up once more. He’d spent hours choosing to be on all fours, gorging himself in order to support the transition. He had stuffed himself beyond feeling full and masturbated more times than he ever had as a teenager. But it had all been for the best. He felt, for the most part, alert once again; remembering most, if not all, of his days. He matched Danny’s stare and held it confidently, letting the guy know that he wasn’t about to be pushed around by him again. He grinned, snorting like a pig and then watched as Danny lost a little of his own composure, leaning forwards slightly and echoing the sounds, whether he meant to or not.

“Where’s the othe pig?” Joel asked; his dick hard and excited to see the transformation. Already he was kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt, letting Danny know that he was here to stay.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Danny reluctantly replied. “He’s still pushing against it. At least, some part of him is,” he explained. “Jeez! Fuck, Joel! You got fat!” he then suddenly excliamed, seeing Joel’s enormous gut and sounding rather jealous.

“I triggered the curse three months ago,” Joel smirked, tapping his large gut and enjoying the wobble of the softest underside of it.

“Like fuck you only triggered the curse three months ago,” Danny shot back. “Bullshit! Even Harry isn’t as big as you yet.”

“Well that will need to change, won’t it?” Joel laughed with pride. “That old lady had cursed three fat pigs; not two. He’s going to have to catch up now I’m back here. He can’t keep fighting against this forever.” 

Joel deliberately sat himself down in Danny’s chair, resting his large butt and sighing in appreciation of being off his feet. Danny, the former quarterback may have been the biggest now, but he wouldn’t always hold that title; Joel knew that with absolute certainty. 

“What do you think you can do to get Harry fattening faster than I have?” Danny grunted, seeming put out by the insinuation that he hadn’t been doing a good enough job with their mutual friend.

“You’ll soon see,” Joel smiled, rubbing his large gut and feeling it expand with the confidence he felt in embracing his new personality. What a life this would be; living here, rent-free, with two other fat guys. He jiggled his gut to catch Danny’s attention, knowing that he’d have sex on tap with both of the horny pigs that lived here. Then, just like that, the enormous man  came striding over to rub and caress Joel’s gut, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even with all his bravado, Danny was a slave to the fat, every bit as much as Joel was.

“Where’s good for pizza around here?” Joel asked. He put his sweaty feet up on the table knocking over everything that had been left on there. Then he spread his legs as Danny slipped his hands into Joel’s sweatpants and began tugging him off. “I’m absolutely starving!” 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

What would happen if instead of deku choosing his wide he choose shoto instead what would happen to his wife would he still go after her how would it play out too.

Thank you for asking

I really love this

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yandere DekuWife Alternate AU

by u/ryuutoshi2

What would have been if Deku had chosen Shoto? The former hero in training was rising in notoriety alongside him. Always there. Always supporting. He knew Deku as well as he knew Izuku. Unshakeable in synergy it felt right to choose him. Choose him over his first true love, who seemed oblivious to all his telling actions. Oblivious to the painful yearning of watching you blindly trample his desires. And the way you cheered him on when he shakily admitted his relationship with some mysterious gent.

“That’s…wonderful Izu! I’ll have to meet him one day!”

You wouldn’t. It would be then that he abandoned the civilian identity to be the largest supervillain to date: Deku. Hand-in-hand with his villain lover as they collectively brought chaos to the world of heroes. Only the inner workings of the UA could suspect who he was and some would follow him. A closed incident that would lead the few who cared: Inko and you to mourn Izuku Midoriya.

“...All he wanted was to be a hero…”

“Maybe in his own mind…he was…”

His heart still yearned for you to hide crumpled photos whenever Shoto entered the room. To him, it was just the pains of withdrawal. A simple case of breaking his routine of obsession, instead of obsessing with someone who so quickly reciprocated that same level of affection. For years he’d fight it, drowning out his thoughts and memories of you with lust, mass violence, and diabolical schemes that would bring despair to the heroes he frowned upon. 

It happens by chance that he’s undercover in the daylight of the city. Smirking to himself as he passes a small-time hero on patrol. This information grab would be easy. An orchestrated diversion that would put him in the position to grab the data in a populated place while his beloved counterpart attacks. It plays on the hero's weakness: the protection of civilians. It would have been perfect. 

“Alright, Mister what can I help you with?”

At the front desk of the intelligence, the employee he was supposed to subdue was you. Grown and gorgeous as the day he left, was (Y/n) (L/n). The woman he spent years chasing and fantasizing over. 

He’s starstruck. Stuttering and flapping his lips as he’s reduced to the sweaty, overheating, obsessed dork you couldn’t see the feelings of. Ever patient you don’t rush him as he struggles to do anything–eating into the time he should have spent completing the mission. 

The sound of rubble crashing and the distorted laughter of his lover–Pyrodast rang out. The screaming and running began, and the swarm of panicked employees created the perfect chaos to steal those documents. But he let himself be pulled by you, tucking him under your desk as you dutifully pressed a hidden button. 

“Alright sir. Please stay here I’ll handle this!” 

He was so caught up fawning over your determined glare he almost didn’t catch what you said. Reaching out to hold onto your arm, worriedly pleading that you don’t leave him. And like something out of a dream you hold his shoulder rubbing soothingly. Flashing a smile he feared he’d forgotten. 

“It’s alright I can handle this,” You reached your other hand past him unintenionally caging him. He fluttered his eyes fully prepared to lean into you and capture your lips only to be reawoken when you pulled back. Letting you stand up straight with a darker look on your face and sleek hi-tech power gun. Holding the weapon with ease you cocked the barrel continuing to smile the way only you did. 

“Besides, both me and my husband are heroes!” 

With that you began firing away, immediately making contact with high powered villain judging by the pained grunt. Alarmed and completely in shock he disobeys your command watching as his not so past love expertly dodges the stray pits of steam and fire from his current love. Moving with the agility and speed of a spider you distribute tear gas bombs to blast in the villain’s face. You duck out of the way for most of his confused attacks, seemingly almost subdued when the gloved hands of Shoto reach for your head. 

Izuku has half a mind to scream out and he does. Drowned out by a resounding explosion, the hero’s defense gives you the opportunity to roll out of the way. More heroes quickly arrive on the scene, sending Pyrodast into a desperate escape. 

Hurriedly coming from behind the desk he tries to spot you among the rubble left in their wake. And like the sun at the break of dawn, you rise nearly unscathed and yawning all the while. Stretching as though you just woke up from a successful nap you smile in the direction of the tattered hole of the building. 

“Man, Suki great timing! You just barely missed my amazing defense!”

“Tch! Like I said before you shouldn’t need to do ‘amazing defense’! Just leave the hero work to me, detective!”

“Aw Suki, you’re just jealous I’m so good at my job! I just can’t retire!”

“Grrrr!”

“Kehehehe~!” Watching you tease the explosive hero, laugh at his glare, and insults stung. Too much like old times, he’d been overwhelmed by that tight-knitted jealousy that came with everyone who should speak to you. Specifically with this man. Even more painfully surreal, in tears of his own, he watches you pull out a silver and black band. Slipping it around your ring finger and fiddling with it as you prodded at the hero’s patience. He notices the way those red eyes look at you with a satisfied fondness that didn’t exist way back when.

It's then that he recalls your words…it makes him shudder. With disgust? with malice? with envy? The pure incessant desire to murder? Katsuki Bakugo was who you were married to the hero who had saved him from judgment on the account of a last favor before continuing to pursue him alongside the board of heroes. He didn’t think he could hate the hero more. He was wrong and if he hadn’t been pinged by a worried Shoto he would have killed him. Stabbed from the back at speeds you’d barely register but he didn’t. 

Wobbly and downcast, he returned to the rendezvous point letting Shoto handle the report for the day. Heterochromatic eyes flashed worriedly toward the no longer disguised Deku. It wasn’t long before they shed their masks and latex, settling into their afternoon routine within the highrise home officially owned by the former hero tycoon Shoto Todoroki. 

He didn’t need to speak. Simply leaning over to rest his chin on Izuku’s head as he held his lover by the waist. Sniffing the dyed locks he gets so lost he almost forgets what he originally asked. Or how Izuku doesn’t turn around to wrap his arms around his neck. 

Instead, Izuku leaned back, letting his head rest on the front collarbone of Shoto. He couldn’t share this most jarring discovery, not while his thoughts were still jumbled. When he finally knew how he felt then he’d tell Shoto, so they both wouldn’t make irrational decisions. 

A shame he’d forgotten how deeply in-tune his lover was with his struggle. 

The moment he realizes his Izuku is sleeping in he zeroes in on the exact moment for the shift in moods. Calling his covert underlings to retrieve the camera footage of the building. Unfortunately the cameras had been wiped supposedly taken away after the visit of some group in black suits. Thanfully his team was able to kidnap lightly apprehend a civilian with an undeleted video of the incident.

“So this is…them?”

As Izuku’s closest confidant for years, lending his ears to his romantic woes was a given. Already bonded by the intimacy that came with villainy it was easy to slip himself into his arms. Whispering in his ear and sharing each other’s breath, Shoto made himself the prime owner of Izuku’s heart. Or so he thought. He once tried to track you down before, fully prepared to use the family hitman to guarantee Izuku’s love. But Izuku’s smart, keeping you nameless and eluding Todoroki's covert operation team. 

But now that there’s a video albeit grainy he now knows who you were. The wife of Katsuki Bakugo, a position highly covetted by celebrities and teens. It seemed like a covert marriage considering official registrars had him married to some nameless character. But the video has you smiling, teasing Deku's mortal enemy. How dare you?! After putting Izuku through all that stress and dethroning him in Izuku’s heart. With a roll of his eyes he makes a call and it's with one thing in mind. 

To kill (Y/n) Bakugo.

Which would prove a difficult feat when half his team was out of commission or under arrest.  Needless to say he killed them before they could spill but your invulnerability was a problem. Somehow involved with some of the highest forms of government it was hard to know what your official title was or how you could so easily debillitate his team. But that wouldn’t be a problem for the openly vengeful Pyrodast who could easily put a bounty on your head. But alas the news didn’t even bother to cover the mysterious disappearances of the newest up and coming villains. Shoto Todoroki didn’t lose. Pyrodast wouldn’t lose. He couldn’t believe that. But he would say he was stumped almost completely losing sight of his original goal. Getting too caught up in a rivalry created all his own he committed days to locking himself away quickly shutting his monitor off when Izuku came to check on him.

“Sho-honey are you doing okay? Those bags under your eyes haven’t gone away yet.”

“Y-yeah I’m fine. J-just trying to tie a loose-end.”

“Well…okay.”

He digs his nails into his desk as he watches his love slink back out of his office. Alright, that’s it! He’s putting an end to this himself, he’s spent too many resources trying to take down someone who should have been a minor kill. So he suits up in the darkness of his office expecting to turn around and pull that green book on the far end of the–

“Well Pyrodast, it’s been a while since I’ve had a man chase after me so earnestly!”

Quickly turning on his voice modulator he whips around finally seeing the woman he’d been trying to kill for so long. Brandishing a glowing saber and wearing a latex suit under a stylish trench coat, your outfit certainly left much nothing to the imagination. 

“Hmmm are you here to return the favor?”

“Only half-way I guess! I’ve always wanted to fight against someone with the Todoroki style.”

Gritting his teeth from behind the mask, he felt the hiss of the recorder as he yelled. 

“I HAVE NO CONNECTION TO THAT NAME!”

“Of course not, the public doesn’t already theorize about your true nature at all!”

“GRAAAGH!”

The battle is intense and Pyrodast makes every attempt to burn you alive but your agile wuick and you use your weapon to cut through the titanium leather of his suit. All the while you’re laughing still flashing that stupid smile even as he slams your body into an adjacent cabinet. More times than he could count did you have him pinned and forced to endure your punches and infuriating flicks. By the time he was pinned down once again he was too tired to pull himself up, simply reeling at the controlled penetration of your saber into his bulky mask. 

Feeling the seering heat of the laser he’s fully prepared to lose his nose but immediately you retract your blade. Jumping off of him to skip to the door, you hum to yourself. Waving your fingers like a conducter would the crescendo come when the door is slammed open by Izuku himself.

“Shoto! What the he–”

“Oh my! I didn’t expect to see you! Let alone living!” 

Izuku’s eyes widen as he looks to you and the nearly unmasked Pyrodast heaving on the floor. Without thinking a blush comes over his freckled face and he begins to sweat.

“(Y-y/n)!? Uhm–I–ugh!”

You walk past him unknowingly filling his nose with your scent to have him unconsciously leaning in your direction. 

“Don’t talk to me, I don’t know how I feel about this just yet but at the very least keep your hubby in check? You can only replace limited edition glass china so many times.”

Speaking so nonchalantly, Izuku once again froze in his place, jumping to attention when Shoto was attempting to lift himself up. Running to his side he supports him as he attempts to angrily shout at you. 

“I’LL-Ack! I’LL k-kill y-y-ou–agh! ONE DAY-ugh!”

“Sh-Pyro?!”

“Yeah yeah just know I’ll be sending an invoice for the damages you cost me. Toodles.”

As suddenly as you came you left pulling the green book on the bookcase behind you letting yourself take the tube directly to Pyrodast’s office lair. With a gust of wind you're gone leaving the villains to stew in your wake. Shoto struggled to tilt his head up, wounded by the overwhelming blush and needy look on Izuku’s face. And In pain and sheer jealousy he screamed into the sound-proofed office.

“(YYYYYYYYYY/////////NNNNNNNNN)!!!!!!”

____

“You look happy, case go alright?”

“Yup the lead was on the money and I even met an old friend in the end!”

“An old friend? Friend or foe?”

“Hmmmm who can say…how was your day, Suki-cracker?”

“Usual. Real quiet. By the way, those ghost peppers you ordered came in!”

“No way! Gimme! Gimme! It’ll be my celebration candy!”

[spahhzy]

Ah Yandere time.

Mama Arc: You say you love my son, but I need to know she has a good woman by his side who will protect and help him.

Neo, signs: 'ooh I'm not a good woman, but I'll protect him.'

Mama Arc, frowns: What are you saying you're not a good person?

Neo: 'oh mother in law: You didn't really think this through? Good people are always limited by their morals to have boundaries that they can't cross'

Neo: 'Like, what do you think a good person would do if they saw on one side of the boat your son drowning, but on the other side, they saw a family of four drowning too and they only had one rope?'

Mama Arc remained quiet.

Neo: 'They would let your son drown because for good people, the morality dictates their actions'

Neo: 'You see a hero would sacrifice their love to save the world'

Neo, with a dreamy look on her face:

'I would happily burn it all to the ground, trample it beneath my feet and eat an ice cream with a smile on my face over everyone's graves and sleep like a baby...'

Neo with a smile on her face: 'As long as it meant that he would sleep next to me'.

[pinkusmaximus]

Well if they don’t like weak coquette girls then YOU tell us what girls wade and Logan would like? (Genuinely curious tho on your thought?) 

Look, everyone, EVERYONE, is entitled to their self ship. If that happens to describe you, please by all means hc that they love that about you. There is a universe out there for everyone!

My opinion as a writer, and the way that I will likely write readers, is that both of them prefer people who stand up for themselves, whether physically, verbally, or both. I do not have a problem with the visual aesthetic of coquette necessarily— my issue is largely the personality tropes that are assigned to readers with this style.

Logan would not like a submissive housewife. Point blank period. First of all, for these two, I try to keep things gender neutral— personal preference because neither of them are straight and I want everyone interested in them to enjoy my fics. But I see so many fics of Logan being this big burly alpha male with a wimpy little dainty wife waiting to be bent over the moment he gets home, and while that’s a fine fantasy, it is NOT for me and I will NOT write him like that OR the reader. None of his canon love interests are like that. Jean is a force. Wade is Wade. I’m tired of these “feminism be damned” style of fics. Logan would want someone self sufficient, deeply caring but not submissive, nearly as headstrong as him, and open to physical affection. And let me clarify— there is NOTHING WRONG with being submissive in the bedroom. I’m a switch with bottom tendencies, I GET IT. I’m against being subservient to a man in lifestyle. I don’t want it in my fiction. Okay? Okay, and Logan would hate to make a woman act that way anyways. Moving on.

Wade would love somebody who can keep up with his banter, who wouldn’t let him trample all over them in a conversation. He would love the challenge of a quick wit, and while you may not be able to completely keep up with his shit, it’s more than anyone else ever tries, and he appreciates that. You know when it’s appropriate to let him ramble and when to interrupt and when to say WADE. MAKE LIKE A LITTLE AMISH GIRL AND CAN IT. Wade, I feel, has a propensity for alt styles visually. I don’t have as much of an opinion for Logan, I think it runs the gamut on what can catch his eye. But Wade, I think, is definitely drawn to alt styles of all kinds! Goth, punk, fairy kei, anything that makes you stand out and, importantly, speaks to who you are. He admires that in a person! He wants you to be as authentic as you can be, sometimes too much— Wade sometimes forgets that he can hurt people’s feelings with his brashness, but you do a good job of reminding him that he can be himself without unintentionally hurting people he cares about (or strangers who have done nothing wrong…).

[totallynotlx]

Take me with you

A/N: I dunno why I wrote this. I dunno if this is supposed to make me feel better or worse but hey, I just wanted to let this out lmao. Also I'm still working on that other fic and that's where I'll be coping hard so enjoy this one (or not asdfkjasd) for now

Tags: Death, Greiving, Coping, JJK spoilers, not proofread so there's that

Word Count: 753

All you see is an empty corridor devoid of any pop of color. All you hear is the soft tap of your shoes against polished wood. The numbness is there, yet you seem to feel everything simultaneously. Your heart felt like it was breaking with each step as if you were trampling over it. You suppress the urge to claw at your chest like it will ease your anxiety. The usual hallway you would pass by every day without any thought felt like it stretched on forever today. You take a right instead of going straight to the classrooms today. This is also different from your daily routine. You continue on your lonely journey through the quiet hallways and reach the end of the hall, where a staircase leads you to the basement where Shoko's lab is located.

With each descent you make, you can feel your resolve crumbling away. Death wasn't a new concept to you, not when you were in the Jujutsu world. Death is a concept that visits every once in a while. It's not a welcome one, but a common picture nonetheless.

You round the corner and see the usual silhouette in the lab coat. Shoko's head was downcast, looking at a lifeless figure on the table. You catch a glimpse of a familiar large hand and take a sharp inhale of breath before steeling your emotions. 

"Shoko." Your voice came out like a mere whisper. The woman's shoulder tenses up before turning to you. 

"Y/N." She says in acknowledgment of your presence. 

"Am I... Is he..." Your words were stuck at the back of your throat. They won't come out. "I'm sorry, I can't—"

"It's alright." She says but shakes her head almost immediately. Yeah, nothing is alright. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." She says as she taps your shoulder lightly. Without her blocking the view, you turn away from the lifeless figure before you. You nod silently, and she makes her way up, leaving you in the cold and silent room. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

You prepare to face him, slowly turning your head and seeing his hand in your peripheral vision again, only to turn away. You lean an arm against the table where the inanimate body lies silently. 

"I can't do this." You plead to nobody in particular, turning your head to the ceiling, focusing your eyes on the light, and fighting against the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your breathing hitches, and you slowly reach out a hand towards the hand that lay dormant on the table. It was cold. The usual warm hand that traced circles on the back of your hand was cold. Your other hand reaches to your chest and scrunches the shirt you wore like the movement can stop your heart from hurting. A silent cry escapes your lips as you hold his hand in yours. He usually returns the favor by pulling your hand towards his lips and kissing the back of your hand with a smile, but it is absent now. Your eyes trail over his hand, up to his arms, before finally settling down on his face. 

Eyes closed. Body eerily still. His disheveled, blood-soaked hair drooped over his eyelids. He was still the same Satoru you remembered. The strongest, the best, but now he lay here lifeless. You take note of the wounds that covered his body, and even though a white blanket was draped over his body, you could see the gap near his waist. 

He's gone. 

The fact hit you like a train. The thought alone made you lose control over your emotions. You wailed, letting out a deep-seated cry from within your soul as you threw yourself over to his chest, stone-cold and unmoving. 

"Satoru," you whispered his name like a prayer, "Satoru, I can't do this." You tell him as you cup his face with both hands. "At least take me with you, damn it." You chuckle, but there is no life in it. He'd probably chide you if he heard you say that, but you were only met with silence.

"You said you'd come back to me," you scream, "you said you'd win!" You continued to cry as you clung to him for dear life. "Satoru, please..."

Your voice trailed off, and as the room was filled with your cries, you were only met with more silence. You knew Satoru would like you to continue living for his sake, too, but is a life without him worth living?