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cherienymphe · 11 months

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Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else… If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter Parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #peter parker fanfiction

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jensettermandu · 4 months

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-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡-

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𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

chapter wc: 11k+

"I haven't had time, so I would appreciate it if we could at least go at it once." This time she asked with her nicest voice. Y/n tilted her head as she looked at the mess she created in Jennie's sweats–she would lie if she said that she wasn't wet and her clit wasn't throbbing. It was especially hot after seeing Jennie be the mess she was while also being back to calling her these names and manhandling her.

[Three days ago]

It was nothing new to bring someone back to the hotel room when the parties were over for Jennie. She hadn't been doing it as often anymore since she had someone back in the city who satisfied her needs. It seemed difficult to get satisfied by someone else, or worse.

The woman under her was completely naked as Jennie continued to kiss her with only her boxers left to restrain her cock. She pressed against her heat, her hands roaming her body, lips not leaving her skin as nails gently dragged along her back. Jennie was doing everything, all the things she always did and knew she was good at. All the things that always got her dick hard. The billionaire wasn't only good at making money, no, she was also great at pleasuring after growing addicted to sex because it was better than drugs and alcohol, but better when those two were involved.

"Just fuck me already," Jennie looked up at the complaint as she had been kissing and groping at her chest and all her other parts. To the eye the woman was good looking, she was sexy and beautiful because Jennie didn't just settle for anyone. Men and women would drool over the model or even pay to have her in bed–Jennie knew because she had paid models to sleep with her. Most of them took it because they needed the money and who wouldn't take thousands upon thousands if not millions in exchange for sex? Jennie liked to have something to brag about such as fucking an unobtainable model. Money didn't get her as excited anymore now that she was drowning in it.

She collected women.

Jennie licked her lips and was about to grab hold of the model's hand but she was faster when she cupped her.

There was one problem—

"You're not even hard."

None of these women were the vixen back home.

Where Jennie had never felt hesitation, guilt, or stress, she hand found herself drowning in it. What came naturally felt like a task now when it wasn't that one body that was so familiar to her.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" The model exclaimed, clearly offended and Jennie yanked her hand away from her cock that had barely grown hard. Her jaw clenched as she took in breaths to not let embarrassment wash over her or the anger. She wasn't sure who she was angry at anymore. The model, herself, or Y/n...Or maybe even Asher who was keeping Jennie from being able to see the girl whenever she wanted to. Jennie didn't like having to wait for turns, but she did, God, she did and she felt pathetic, but she took every chance she had to dick Y/n down once her man left her for a few hours or days.

The feline tried to blame it on the drugs and alcohol.

"Shut the fuck up." She gritted out and reached for her shirt that was thrown on the corner of the bed before pulling it over her head. She took her pants and pulled them on too, not zipping them up as she would head to the shower once the woman left. It was truly humiliating for Jennie, it made her insecure and the model wouldn't consider that it did. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't grow an erection even if she wanted to. She tried her best by taking her time.

"You just wasted like an hour of my time for this. Why would you bring someone over if you can't even get it up." The woman argued as she started to gather her clothes. Jennie's nose twitched as she sat at the edge of the bed with her fists clenching in anger. It wasn't anything in her system, she hadn't gotten drunk and had barely taken any drugs aside from a few white lines like she always did. There was only one explanation and it had never happened to her before.

Jennie had been in relationships and she knew that she hadn't stayed faithful in them because her dick always sprung to life when she saw someone hot who would look her way. It made her forget love the second a girl got on her knees to suck her off. Her love only lasted for the night, it always had.

"Shut the fuck up you bimbo-looking slut! I fucking brought you over and that's more than you will ever fucking accomplish in your life." Jennie snapped and stood up, glaring at the woman who was slipping her dress back on.

"You can't even accomplish an erection which is pathetic enough–no one's gonna waste their time on you anymore." The model bellowed, and Jennie felt it wash over her. The anger consumed her from how the girl was disrespecting her and when she was about to pass she grabbed hold of her wrist and forced her to face her.

"You're not fucking telling anyone about this or I will fucking ruin your career in a second." She threatened the woman as she didn't need it to spread to everyone that she couldn't even get her dick semi-hard. It was going around that she was making women cum left and right, and that she knew exactly how to blow someone's back or use her tongue. It would ruin her reputation when it came to this. For the last few women she had slept with, Jennie had to fake her orgasms and throw the condoms away before they could check if she truly had finished because she grew soft before she was able to finish. It was draining her and the frustrations only grew more, she had reached her peak, and the anger was boiling out of the lid that would blow up.

"Let go of me or they will get to know about this too."

"I told you something and you say that you fucking understand unless you want your career dead!" Jennie's voice boomed through the suite as her grip tightened on the woman's wrist. That anger came without any control, the control she didn't have, but it controlled her life, she was a slave to her anger.

It happened right away as she slapped Jennie because the grip was numbing on her wrist, but Jennie's excuse was that she was already angry. The woman had already angered her and was only pushing more of her buttons. It was all her fault and not Jennie's when she barely flinched from the slap and used her strength when her knuckles itched before colliding with the model's face. It was out of her control in the end and it would have never happened if people listened right away.

Jennie maybe wasn't the biggest person, but she surely did work out and did practise boxing simply for her safety as it was recommended by her team. She could never know who would show up, but it also ended with other people hurt as the force was enough to make the younger woman drop to the floor. Jennie felt her heart pick up in rate like it always would in these situations where she seemingly had no control as the sobs filled the room. It never seemed to stop her though. It only fueled her because of the sense of power she got from it, those bad feelings got replaced with power, dominance, killing whatever challenge the woman tried to put up by even looking her in the eye when she was angry.

It was a curse, but it had been there so long that it felt like a reward.

"Get the fuck out before I break more than your nose and remember that no one would ever believe you over me unless you want legal trouble for defamation of character." She spat out, flailing her hand the slightest that she had used. In the end, Jennie had all the money and Jennie was known as someone with a pure and sweet soul that helped everything and everyone around her. From donations to charities to everything else in between.

No one would believe the girl below her whose nose was bleeding as she looked up at her terrified. It wasn't the first time she got that look. The look let her know that she wasn't the prey and it made her feel safe in her skin, it washed away the embarrassment and humiliation because the woman was scared of her.

"Are you deaf? Get the fuck out, good for nothing whore!" She snarled and watched how the crying girl got up from the floor, grabbing the rest of her stuff to hurry out. Jennie huffed and turned back to the bed with her pants resting at her hips and reached for her phone. She could hear the door slam closed as she opened the phone and looked through her contacts, unsure of who to contact, and what to prioritise. She was frustrated and slumped down onto the bed, sitting at the edge, it was just another lonely night.

Her fingers stumbled upon the name that was stuck to her like glue because she was stupid enough to let it happen. Jennie bit her lower lip and opened the messages she had with the vixen as she knew that she didn't answer phone calls after all the calls she dialled only to not be answered. These were lengths Jennie had never gone to and it was annoying her yet she kept going as she texted the girl.

1:01 AM Are you busy???

She exhaled deeply, waiting for an answer as she just stared ahead of herself, drowning in empty thoughts because she didn't want to think about what happened. The empty thought came to thoughts of wanting to conclude her problems, but she shut every one of them down because she was too rich and powerful to have these problems. She didn't believe in these things so they could never become real problems. The buzz of her phone that was resting on her thigh got her out of it though and she picked it back up.

1:07 AM Studying With Lisa The fuck do you want?

1:08 AM Nudes would suffice, or at least some kind of pictures to jerk off to

In the end, Jennie still felt sexually frustrated, it made the anger go away most of the time and she wouldn't be able to sleep unless she would at least cum in her hand or in the shower. Or maybe both depending on how many pictures she gets–

1:11 AM Have you heard of pornhub, onlyfans or even paying someone to come and suck you off?

1:11 AM Not the same, it's late and I am too busy

1:12 AM You can scroll up then

1:13 AM I want new ones, in red or black lingerie

1:15 AM The fuck do I look like to you? Not a wishing well I hope you slot machine-built bitch

1:15 AM Usually you remind me of a cumslut the way you get covered in it. The fuck do you mean by slot machine?

Jennie groaned as Y/n was working on her nerves and all she wanted was to wank her prick and then go to sleep. She could use her imagination or replay what they had done, but it wouldn't work when her mind was preoccupied with anger and then sex.

1:20 AM You shit money and spurt cum like a slot machine It's all you are good for, pathetic loser :PhotoAttachment1 :PhotoAttachment2 :VideoAttachment3 Here, this is all you get for being so demanding Go kill yourself after instead of texting me again<33

She truly had no clue why she was putting up with the attitude of the mean girl. With most women, she would show them their place and not have them disrespect her or she would kick them to the curb. Maybe it was because she couldn't afford to throw away someone who worked like Viagra on her dick. Or maybe because Y/n didn't seem tameable after the few times Jennie snapped only for the girl to snap right back. It was a challenge and Jennie always won them, this one has been taking longer to win though.

Jennie opened the pictures of the girl in lacy lingerie and she knew that it was just because she had asked for specific ones that Y/n sent her in white and navy blue. It didn't matter as she looked at them while she pushed herself up the bed and leaned back against the headboard. She pulled her pants lower together with her boxers. Her hand blindly reached to the side where the bottle of lube was standing just for these moments. She licked her lips, opening the video of the girl feeling herself with music playing in the background in nothing but white lingerie, her body slim, perfect small tits, long legs, tiny waist, and a body so perfect Jennie couldn't get enough as her hand was already stroking around her growing cock.

Her mind forgot about what happened as it never really mattered since she was invincible to these things damaging her. Instead thinking about how Y/n would work her hands on her thick length and let her release on her face and chest. Her mind was occupied with the girl, never did she think about a specific woman during her days, but now it was happening more often and it was always the same face.

[Present]

Jennie's cock was hard and leaking with salty precum once again, unable to keep it down when she was with Y/n. The younger girl was right beneath her with her clothes on the floor as Jennie continued to kiss her. The cock rested heavily on Y/n's thigh while Jennie's fingers ran through her folds, coating them in stickiness as her thumb found the swollen clit where she had gathered the wetness. Y/n hummed into Jennie's mouth when she reached two fingers down before she with ease slid them inside to get the girl ready for the cock as the stretch got painful at times from how tight she was.

"Fuck," Y/n breathed out as she pulled away from Jennie's lips, the woman slowly doing scissoring motions while rubbing at her g-spot, her thumb still working her clit.

"Tell me how good it feels when I touch you."

"So fucking good, Jennie–" She whined as her hips bucked into Jennie, a moan getting caught in her throat. She pressed harder on her clit, rubbing in just the right motion while stretching the girl with her fingers that continued to spread the tight and squelching hole. Her hips slightly bucked, rubbing herself against the smooth thigh, having a hard time holding back. She kissed down, Y/n tilting her head as she nipped at her skin, knowing that the girl would kill her naked in bed if she left a hickey. Last time she got thrown out with barely any clothes on for trying.

"Who else can make you feel this good? Who else can make you such a desperate whore, Y/n?" The girl under her whined, back arching off the bed as she wrapped her arms tighter around Jennie's back for some grip. It was quite the opposite as the younger girl would leave Jennie with bite and scratch marks that were bleeding at times. Their chests pressed together, and Jennie could feel the cold barbells pressing against her from the pierced nipples.

"No one, God— no one, I'm only a whore for you." Jennie hummed at the stinging of nails pushing into her shoulder blades as Y/n's thighs quivered and her breathing picked up. It was a sort of control that Jennie loved, she loved having this control over Y/n because she depended on her to get a good release.

She depended on her because no one had been able to fuck her right, not even the boyfriend who wasn't even hovering near her mind. All she could think about was the way Jennie pumped her fingers inside her, the way she rubbed at her walls, slowly stretching her to make sure her thick member would fit. Her thumb played with her clit and it was making her whole body tingle as she was nearing her orgasm. Her walls continued to clench as she whimpered and moaned for more. She had fallen for the wrong kind of thing, she had fallen for pleasure and it was all she wanted, it was all that mattered.

"You're so good, knowing what you are for me...A whore for me to empty into." At least she wished the girl would let her fill her hole with cum until it was leaking. To fuck it all right into her womb and leave her crying for more like she had done times before. Y/n let out another moan, her voice going up in pitch and making Jennie's dick twitch at the erotic sound. Her walls clasped around Jennie's two fingers and the heat washed over her body, her breathing coming to a stop for a few seconds as nails dug further into the skin from how she tensed up.

She looked at her, her head thrown back with her chest pressing against Jennie's. Her lips started to trail kisses along her jaw as she continued to work on her clit. "This is what you need, someone to fuck you right," Jennie grumbled, knowing that the guy wasn't able to satisfy Y/n the same way she did. She was the one who made her legs quiver, her back arch, and moans spill if not cries.

Y/n knew it too and she was risking losing both because of where she was stuck yet she continued to grasp at Jennie with her thighs quivering around the woman. The orgasm hit her hard in waves of pleasure and her vision turned black. Her walls pulsating from the aftershocks caused by the high Jennie was able to take her to by simply touching her right.

She slumped down, making Jennie slow down her movements as she continued to kiss along her jaw. Y/n lolled her head to the side and caught Jennie's wet lips with hers, tongues lethargically pressing against each other as her fingers now gently brushed over her shoulder blades and down to her back, feeling the muscles flex as Jennie moved. Her fingers pulled out of the snug and pulsating grip of her wet cunt and she rested both forearms on either side of the girl's head. Shuddering as her cock rested against the heat of the girl.

[Four months ago]

Jennie stopped the car outside the apartment complex and tapped her fingers against the wheel. The last time she had been outside of it was a week ago. It wasn't anything she usually did, but she felt like she needed to do some damage control. She felt like she had somewhat taken advantage when she decided to have sex with the girl who was on a high dose of Ecstasy. She didn't need Y/n to think the same and try to press any charges.

It wasn't like she hadn't had sex with anyone under the influence before, but in those instances, they had taken these drugs willingly–Jennie being under the same influence. The vixen got high on accident. Not only that but her number had been blocked by the younger girl. She just wanted to do damage control to see if it was because she had cheated or because of the circumstances the sex had been initiated under. If it was the second she would have to make sure the girl would be quiet by most likely bribing her, threatening if necessary.

She got out of the car and was shooting in the dark as she had no clue what the girl's last name even was. All she knew was her first name. With the hood up and sunglasses on she walked through the parking lot and towards the door where she had seen Y/n come out of. She was a bit nervous, she couldn't tell how it would go–if she would even find the right door.

It seemed as if luck was on her side when an elderly woman was slowly pushing the door open. Jennie picked up her steps and quickly grabbed the door, pulling it open for her.

"Thank you." She smiled at her and before she could walk out and walk away the billionaire spoke up.

"Wait—uhm you wouldn't happen to know Y/n?"

"Y/n?" The elderly woman questioned as she turned to look at Jennie, holding onto her walker. She quickly nodded her head.

"I go to the same college as her and she only sent me her address, my phone battery is out and I can't ask what door is hers." Jennie reached for her phone and showed the screen that was just turned off, pretending to push the power button on the side. Her lips pursing in feigned despair.

"Third floor under the names Y/l/n and Thomson."

"Thank you, have a good day." Jennie thanked the woman and quickly walked in, letting the door fall closed. She heaved a sigh to see that there was no elevator in the four-story building. With that she started to make her way up the stairwell, her footsteps leaving echoes after them.

She went over what to say in her head, what excuses to use for what happened, and what to offer if the excuses weren't enough. A couple of thousand or a million wouldn't even make a change to her bank account as she earned the money right back in a few minutes. The loud sounds of her sneakers colliding with the stairs stalled as she reached the third floor and huffed, pulling down her hood and pushing her sunglasses up to the top of her head.

She slowly walked along the way, scanning the few doors until her eyes landed on the one with the two last names that were mentioned. It made her stop for a second–she hadn't thought far enough about what she would do if it were the boyfriend who opened. She had no clue what she had told him and the one time she had seen him: she couldn't deny that he was probably four times her size.

It couldn't get that bad though.

Jennie knocked on the door and put her hands in the pockets of her loose jeans as she waited for it to open.

It wasn't opening and she took out her phone to look at the time.

Sunday, 2 p.m.

She reached her hand out and knocked once more to make sure in case it was because she hadn't heard her.

And she did so for a third time.

Finally, she heard some type of noise from the other side and took a step back. Expectantly she waited and the door finally opened to reveal the girl she had slept with last week. It felt almost odd to come face to face with someone she hooked up with. She never really did unless it was some sort of fling she would call over more than once. There was no need to stick to one girl when she could have a new one every day.

It followed with a groan and she scanned the girl whose hair was dripping with water and a towel wrapped around her chest, leaving her overly exposed. Jennie swallowed and with the hand that was still in her pocket adjusted her dick that twitched.

"What the fuck?"

The question flew out of Y/n's mouth, utterly confused about what the older woman was doing outside her door.

Jennie cleared her throat and looked up from the long legs where water was still dripping down. She would pay to lick them up and then continue up–

"I wanted to talk."

"About what?" Y/n's tone was somewhat harsh and it was so for a good reason. The woman whom she had blocked and hoped she would never see again was right in front of her. It didn't feel right. She had spent the past week crying and sleeping on the couch or at Lisa's place all while constantly fighting with her boyfriend because she had no clue what to do with what happened. There was no finish after the start because how did she finish a race like this when she had no clue what the finish line looked like?

"About what happened."

Y/n grumbled and stepped aside as maybe the finish would be talking it through with Jennie. Or maybe she just had to come clean to her boyfriend. Or maybe she was supposed to keep quiet about it for the rest of her life. In the end, it wasn't like her to cheat. She was guilty of harmless flirting with other people, but it was usually for the benefit of a broke college student who got free drinks because she was pretty. She never let anything go further.

Jennie nodded as she stepped inside, using the opportunity to adjust herself a bit better as Y/n's back was turned to her–the lock clicking.

"You have a cat." She pointed out the obvious, for a moment forgetting what she came for as the Russian blue scurried over to them.

"That's Vinci, he's a fucking menace so don't touch him–he only doesn't hate me." Y/n warned as she turned around to see Jennie already crouching down. She stepped around the woman, letting her deal with it as she had already warned her about what the cat was.

"You're being dramatic, look he's coming over to me," Jennie said as the cat rubbed himself on some furniture before heading right over to Jennie. Y/n shrugged and walked into the open living room, she leaned against the backrest of the couch and looked at the woman. It didn't feel right to let her inside the apartment, the home that was hers and Asher's, but she had already invited her to a different place after Jennie invited her to sin. It somewhat irked her that she was so bothered by it. She knew she deserved it, but to see Jennie not mind it at all made her realise that it was her mistake and her mistake only. She couldn't blame Jennie for cheating on her boyfriend.

"I warned you, he's not nice at all."

Jennie reached her hand out and yelped when the cat jumped onto it, biting it with claws digging into her hand, Vinci's back paws kicking at it. The cat tousled with her hand. "Fucking hell!" She exclaimed and pulled him away with her other hand before quickly standing up. It didn't seem to end as he started to attack the sleeves of her pants.

"Get him away." She called for help as she tried to gently push him away to not hurt the cat, but it didn't seem possible, the claws digging into the material of her jeans. Y/n heaved a sigh and pushed herself up as Jennie got backed up into the wall by the cat that was biting on her feet as she tried to get away.

"Come here, my baby." Y/n cooed at the devil of a cat that had left Jennie's hand with scratches, bite marks and some blood streaks. Her feet were in the same condition as her hand. She watched as the girl picked him up, kind of worried that he would do the same to her and leave her exposed clavicles a bloody mess, but all he did was purr and cling to her.

Y/n looked over at Jennie who inspected her hand.

"Told you so." She said. She had told her that the cat wasn't fond of anyone aside from her. Jennie huffed and followed after Y/n who walked back into the living area and let the cat down that ran right to his cat tree, climbing to the top before laying down and staring right at Jennie.

"He has your personality." The brunette commented. He was just as mean as Y/n and the girl was the first one to be a bitch towards her without a care about who Jennie was. She made herself comfortable as she sat down on the couch, the vixen sitting on the other end of it.

"You don't even know me cuckold." Y/n hissed and fixed her towel to make sure that it was secure, feeling the intense gaze of Jennie. Over the years she had grown used to the gazes that could at times make her skin crawl, especially if she was out. The woman's wasn't subtle and Jennie continued to come off as an asshole with the way she stared.

"Know you enough to see that you're quite the bitch and the last thing I am is a cuckold."

"Fine, an unwanted cum stain," Y/n said and clicked her tongue as Jennie was certainly unwanted here and yet she was there.

Jennie rarely had anyone talking to her that way unless they were her closest friends, but even those were few. Her eyes narrowed, unsure of how to take it from the girl who didn't seem to care for a second about who she was. She leaned back on the couch and rested her arm on the backrest.

"Is that so?" Was all she could say as she was quite speechless after being called an unwanted cum stain for the first time in her life.

"Yeah, I blocked your number for a reason." Y/n's eyes averted away from Jennie and she looked at the blank screen of the TV.

That was the exact reason as to why Jennie had come. If the girl hadn't blocked her she would've just asked her through texts and possibly see if she was up for more if the waters were safe. Now it was different as she was at her apartment on a Sunday.

"Which is?"

"Because I don't want to see you again."

Y/n pressed the idea as Jennie was asking a lot of why questions and she didn't need a better reason than simply not wanting to see her.

"Why is that?"

"Cause, there's no good reason to see you again."

The only reason seemed to be if she wanted to cheat again which she wasn't supposed to want. That thrill, that good sex, the thought of being horrible yet still enjoying herself during the moment, she wasn't supposed to want that. There was no good reason for Y/n to see Jennie when it came to Asher. She felt horrible, she felt even worse for enjoying it, and even worse for wanting to experience that adrenaline once again. It was as if she had taken a hit of heroin and grown addicted right away and now the only thing that would be able to suffice her boring life was Jennie with her dick.

It wasn't her fault that her boyfriend was at most decent in bed and even then was all gentle and loving. Scared to hurt her physically because he was so much bigger or say something that would hurt her. They clashed in bed. He was soft and uncomfortable with anything aside from praises and Y/n wanted to at times bang her head against the wall because of it. It was just the sex which didn't matter since she loved him for being the person that he was. Sex was just occasional for them as it wasn't a big part of their relationship. It gave her no right to cheat.

"Not even the sex?" Jennie asked with her eyebrows raised, removing the sunglasses from the top of her head.

"Not even the sex."

She felt somewhat challenged, her big ego about how good she was at pleasuring getting bruised. It made the foundation crack, and her ego extremely fragile because of how big and blown it was. The smallest poke made it blow up and blow away with the wind. That was why she never allowed anyone to try and step on her, or somehow bruise it by putting herself on top right away. Right now she was fighting with Y/n about that spot despite the girl not knowing it, at least she thought she didn't know.

"So it wasn't good?" Jennie continued to ask as she wasn't believing the girl and she also refused to be the only one to think that sex with the girl was quite amazing. She had to think the same.

"Not good enough for me to even remember it." Y/n lied as she could remember every single part of it and the only thing she couldn't remember was anything else from that night.

"You have to remember something. You were high but I hope that wasn't a problem since I asked for your consent."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to accuse you of anything. I was high, but well aware of what was happening even if I was more prone to letting it happen...You should consider not fucking girls high on E 'cause not everyone would let it slide after because of the headspace you get into."

"That was why I came." Jennie knew that it wasn't right to have sex with the girl if she wasn't in the right state of mind. It wasn't the case since it hadn't made her dissociative just like Y/n said that she had been aware. Although ecstasy had made her more clingy and somewhat unaware of how far things were being taken until they had happened since standards lowered and everyone was a friend when ecstasy coursed in the veins. She was worried she would have regretted it differently after and then accused Jennie of things.

"Well, you have your answer," Y/n concluded and was about to stand up, but was stopped.

"Okay, but why did you block me if that wasn't the problem?" That still bothered Jennie because she felt imbecilic for trying to text the girl only to be blocked. It made no sense for her to be blocked in the first place when she usually had to block girls because they thought the sex meant something. Everyone wanted it to mean something because she had money.

"What does it matter to you?"

"Didn't think it would be a one-time thing, especially if we both were drunk and high...Doesn't count in my opinion." Jennie used it as an excuse for her bruised ego. All she wanted to do was have sex one more time and prove how good she was, but then block the girl to bruise hers right back.

Y/n raised her eyebrows at the words and watched as Jennie shifted, her gaze catching her eyes. She blinked, trying to process what she meant by that.

"What?"

Jennie shrugged at that. "I want to have sex with you at least once more...I could pay you if that means that you agree." She casually explained that she wanted to at least have sex once more with the vixen and this time properly to make sure that she would remember it and want more.

The girl on the other side looked more offended than pleased by the offer.

"Okay, first of all, I would never have sex with anyone for money and second, no." Y/n ridiculed the whole thing as bizarre as she couldn't phantom where the older woman had so much confidence to ask something like this. It didn't matter how good-looking someone was, it was a far reach, but maybe girls agreed to her if they were desperate enough. Y/n knew that she wasn't.

"Why not? It's just sex, it's not like I am some musty creep."

"Because I have a boyfriend, it's cheating," Y/n answered as it was cheating, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't do it. She refrained from leaping to the world of selfishness which was lust and desire. It wasn't right at all and she tried her best to not look for valid reasons to go through with it. The internal battle was constant when she knew what she should choose right away. She was supposed to leave Sin City- she wasn't supposed to enter to begin with.

"Doesn't count if he won't find out. Where is he?" Jennie glanced around the empty apartment, finding no reason for the girl to hold back if her man wasn't home and wouldn't find out. It was only cheating if she got caught in her opinion. It was like playing a board game, she only got called out for it if the rest saw, found out, or suspected that she was cheating. The coast was clear and the game could continue without any problems.

"Practice," Y/n mumbled and widened her eyes at the sound of a zipper flying open.

"What're you doing, keep it in your pants, Jennie." She exclaimed as the woman was about to reach into her pants because she thought that it was the green light when the girl answered. She heaved a sigh and rested her fingers under the hem of her boxer briefs, the pants unzipped and her dick slowly growing harder.

"Is it because you don't want to cheat or what?" She asked. Jennie had a past of cheating, but it had never bothered her like it did Y/n so she couldn't grasp it.

Y/n inhaled deeply, her gaze falling on the cat that was now asleep, the apartment silent.

"It's because of the opposite when it shouldn't be." She couldn't help but want it, but she knew that it wasn't right so she couldn't grasp what was wrong with her head. She loved her boyfriend and that meant that she shouldn't even think of it, but she truly didn't love him any less just because she wanted some good sex. It was just sex, it wasn't even what defined their relationship since sex was the last thing on their list. It wasn't like she would stop loving him or he her—as long as he didn't find out–Jennie was nothing but some good dick.

Y/n felt horrible, all those reasonings weren't right, and there was no good enough reason to cheat. She was aware of that. Nothing was ever good enough to go this far. Nothing was excusable. She felt ashamed for enjoying it–

Yet she found herself bent over the couch with Jennie giving her such backshots that her eyes were rolling back when she came and cheating wasn't even a real word or concept. "Oh fuck." Jennie groaned out, pulling out of the girl and jerking herself off before blowing her hot load right on the perfectly slim ridges of her spine.

It didn't count as long as he didn't find out.

[Present]

"You're on birth control, we don't need them," Jennie complained as the younger girl opened the bedside drawer and reached for the condoms she had in there. It was becoming quite an expense because of how they went at it for hours when they could. She didn't use them with her boyfriend but did at times so there would be no questions about why there were condoms at home. Her hands ran over Y/n's body which was straddling her thighs as she sat leaned against the headboard.

"We do." The answer was simple as she deadpanned it.

"What for?" Jennie asked as she cupped her one breast, her fingers tugging at the hard nipple and toying around with the piercing. She leaned in and left a few kisses along the other breast before sucking in the bud into her mouth. She toyed with the nipple, playing with the piercing and grazing her teeth along it as it scraped over her teeth. Sighs left Y/n's mouth as she gripped onto Jennie's head.

"Not just for pregnancy." She breathed out and Jennie pulled away, another frown graced her eyebrows and Y/n handed her the wrapper, but she didn't take it.

"Do you think I carry some kind of STD?" She seriously asked and Y/n shrugged her shoulders at that, not up for humouring Jennie who always acted like she was dead in the brain in Y/n's opinion. At least she knew how to use her other head.

"Didn't say you do, but you never know what might happen. I only have one partner and see you on the side while I have no clue who you sleep with. If I were to catch something, what would I say?" The words left her with ease, cheating being a normal topic and she knew what she was at the back of her head. Y/n tried to ignore it most of the time because she didn't want to face the horrible person that she was.

"I use protection with every girl I meet." She had started to at least as she was done with shoving plan B's down girl's throats. Then she had no other choice since they would be able to tell that she had been faking her orgasms since she grew soft inside if she even got it up which hadn't been possible last time. It was mostly possible when she was wasted drunk, that was when she could get it up and hope for it to stay up.

"Oh wow, would you look at that, how great that I have stacked up on condoms then," the sarcasm irked Jennie as Y/n opened the packet herself and took out the rubber.

"You don't use them when you suck me off–" Jennie pointed out and her breath shuddered at how Y/n gently started to pull the condom over her dick that was standing proudly (seemingly just for her) like usual. It clicked in her head that it was something more than just protection from pregnancy and STDs because then she would make sure to have a condom on when she would go down on her. "What is it then?" She asked and grabbed hold of Y/n's wrist and hip, stopping the girl from being able to get on top of her. Her grip was tight to make sure she would stay.

"What does it matter to you? You're here to fuck so stop being a freak." Y/n defensively let out as Jennie had gotten oddly close to her and she didn't like it. She didn't like the girl asking her all these questions or even talking to her too much. They were supposed to fuck and then part ways. It had taken an even more wrong turn than cheating somewhere along the way with how their relationship looked like.

She let go of her wrist and grabbed hold of her dick. "I will fuck you." She sneered as she guided her tip to the sopping hole. Y/n's breath hitched as a cry left her lips and not in pleasure when the girl forcefully pushed her down fully on her length. She grasped onto Jennie's shoulders, her heart speeding up at the pain that had shot up through her whole spine. "Jen–" Her words were cut short, getting caught in her throat as Jennie planted her feet down and started to pound into her. Her lip was between her teeth, her eyes trained on their heat, watching how her cock disappeared into the girl whose pussy was grasping her inside.

"Fuck, you fucking cunt." Y/n whined, the pain slowly subsided but it didn't change the fact that Jennie had been way harsher than she was ready for without letting her adjust to the stretch. Her walls were throbbing around the cock that stretched her out in a way that turned into pleasure. The way the curved shaft caressed her g-spot made her stomach tighten, feeling Jennie deep inside her as each thrust filled her to the brim and made her clench to get as much as possible.

"You don't want to take my cum? I will fuck you so good you will be begging for me to knock you up. Fucking whore, acting all superior, I will fuck you into place like the slut that you are." Jennie rambled on, grunting with each thrust as Y/n wrapped her arms around her shoulders, unable to keep up with how sudden it all was. It was safe to say that she was angry and to Y/n that meant being fucked silly.

"I hate you so much."

"Yet you take my dick like you don't." Jennie groaned, the girl on top of her moaning right by her ear and she reached her hands down to her ass, gripping firmly. She was filling her to the hilt, with each downstroke she thrust up, Y/n's ass slapping against her thighs and her nails digging into the sides of her neck. The girl tried her best to meet the rough thrusts, her thighs tensing up and gasps fell from her lips.

Jennie had no clue what it was, but she forgot her self-control around the girl. Not only because she was hot, but because she gave her every reason to not have any control over her anger when she liked to treat her like dirt under her shoes. However, Jennie did control it because the girl would most likely be crying from pain right now and not pleasure. She was just giving back the same type of attitude by fucking her like a whore.

Her cock hit the right spots, reaching deep inside her and managing to caress her g-spot the entire time she was pounding into her. Jennie's breaths grew heavy, Y/n's body warm in her hold as she watched the perfect curves of her slim figure. Her eyes fell on the chest, the tits that were perfect to fit in her hands bounced and Jennie leaned in. Her teeth nipped at the skin, sucking the hard nipples into her mouth to play with the piercings and tug on them, it made Y/n moan and gasp right into her ear. The pleasure increased and her clit throbbed while her stomach tensed up.

"Wanna come." Y/n moaned out, wanting nothing more than to orgasm once again.

Jennie pulled away from the chest that was glistening with her spit, the hard buds left red and slightly swollen from how she abused them with her mouth. "Only if I let you." The room filled with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. Y/n's moans and gasps bounced off the walls just like Jennie's moans and grunts. She could feel the brunette's cock deep in her as her walls clenched with each of the harsh thrusts that made her breathless. Jennie reached her hand behind Y/n's head and gripped her hair, forcing her away and making her look at her as the girl was hiding in her neck.

"You need so much cock to satisfy you that you go behind your boyfriend's back." She reminded her, deciding to trample on the girl because she had been getting on her nerves since she entered the apartment. She groaned, Y/n's nails digging into the sides of her neck as she continued to roll her hips, bouncing up and down on her length yet Jennie had all the control as she continued to piston in and out of her.

Despite how whiny she felt and needy for an orgasm, her eyes barely staying open, she was getting pissed off by Jennie's words. "Shut the fuck up, you're sounding obsessed again." Y/n too knew how to trample the girl whose cock was rearranging her insides into a mess. The vixen knew that she was cheating, but she didn't want to be reminded of it, she didn't want to think of it. She knew that she had no right because it was a choice, but she still felt ashamed and guilty every single day. It didn't seem to stop her because the second she saw Jennie it was the same all over again.

Jennie stopped, Y/n still moving her hips although not for long when Jennie grabbed hold of her waist. "Fuck–" Y/n winced at the painful grip that would leave bruises. She wanted to be pissed but she had no time when Jennie pushed her onto her back before then forcing her onto her stomach. The girl barely managed to put up a fight from how quickly Jennie handled her.

"You're hurting me, you perverted jagoff." She complained and tried to struggle at the grip that Jennie had on her wrists, pinning them down above her head as she lay pressed into the mattress.

Jennie looked down, pinning both hands with her one. She looked down at the girl whose thighs she was straddling, her cock resting against her ass cheek. Y/n's back arched and the struggling did nothing, but only turned Jennie on more to know that she had all the control. It was tempting to just remove the condom since Y/n wouldn't be able to do anything about it or even notice at first–she refrained because she didn't want to get thrown out. She slowly rubbed her hard-on against her plump ass– "Don't call me obsessed with a fucking wimp."

"Ahh!" Y/n buried her face in the duvet, completely trapped under Jennie whose palm landed right against her ass cheek. It stung, the pain prickling on the skin as she heaved to try and distract herself from the pain. Jennie surely knew how to slap. It was another try to wiggle out from under her to get spared, all she felt was Jennie's cock rubbing against her ass.

"Stop acting it." She mumbled into the sheets, eyes closed as she panted through her mouth before biting down and whining, eyes shut tightly at how the woman's palm collided with her ass again.

Jennie gripped the flesh, soothing over the hot skin as she kneaded the girl's ass in her hand. "You think I care about him? If I did, I wouldn't be fucking his girlfriend." Jennie gritted out, the anger bubbling in her chest as her grip tightened on Y/n's wrists who twisted the duvet between her fingers at how numbing it was. She gasped out a breath as the pain was still lingering and Jennie only landed another harsh slap against the same ass cheek and she choked on a cry this time, trying to squirm under the woman. Her back arched and her ass pressed into Jennie at how the pain made her twist before she relaxed when the worst part subsided and all that was left was the pulsating left after.

"Fuck– that's not it," Y/n said with heavy breaths as it wasn't that which she found Jennie looking obsessed over. The vixen snivelled as she blinked away her tears and moved her head, resting her cheek against the mattress as she looked at Jennie over her shoulder. The hand was now caressing the reddening spot.

She hummed, urging Y/n to say it as she removed her hand from her ass and grabbed the base of her dick that was throbbing as she positioned herself straddling the girl's thighs and pushed her tip between her legs, finding the aching hole. She only pushed her tip in, the younger girl already whimpering as the position made her a much tighter fit. The walls sucked her tip into a chokehold of a grip, making Jennie suck air through her teeth at how good the warm and tight cunt felt.

"You're obsessed with his position, with the fact that he isn't the one on the side but you and that's what you will always be."

Jennie bit down on her tongue, running her palm along the ridges of the slim girl's spine as she lowered herself, propping herself up on her forearms, still holding her hands pinned down with hers. She didn't want the girl to have any control whatsoever, all she wanted for Y/n to be able and use was her mouth. They came face to face and stared each other in the eye, the lust was strong, and it was fueling the whole room. They knew what they were doing and what it meant, what it was supposed to mean at least.

"Don't act like you don't want me." Her tone was husky and she caught the whimper that was about to leave Y/n's mouth when she pushed herself inside the girl in one fluid motion. Y/n pulled away rather quickly as the moans started to spill when Jennie moved back out before slamming her cock back inside the sweltering heat. Her pelvis collided with Y/n's ass with each deep thrust, keeping it up as she continued to pull out, leaving her tip in and slamming it all back in. The vixen's lighter body getting fucked into the mattress.

"I fucking own you in the bedroom, I own you even when you fuck him because you think about me when you do." Her tone was gruff as she spoke in a hushed tone right into Y/n's ear who shivered at the air that brushed her sensitive ears. She grunted, going rougher and Y/n's moans got louder, unable to keep the sounds back when Jennie was pounding her full length into her tight hole. She clenched around her hard dick even more, it was followed by a muffled whimper from Jennie whose body was almost fully pressed against Y/n's back, their legs tangled together.

Each heaving breath mixing into the sounds, the two lost in their sins as the place they were in was the only place that brought them away from everything else. There was no guilt, no shame, no hesitation, or stress, not in their city of sins because it was just them. The two were addicted to these feelings and each other in ways that were unhealthy. There were no questions asked or anyone to judge. It was what made it possible to get lost in pleasure.

"Fuck, Y/n, fuck, I'm gonna make you cum so hard baby, I will fuck you so good the whole night. You're gonna take me so good like you always do, my favourite slut." Jennie mumbled, her mind getting lost as she kissed the girl's shoulder before licking a long stripe and biting down to pull at the thin skin. Her dick throbbed inside the pulsating walls that were warm and welcoming even if it got painful at times. The girl's cunt clasped around her with each thrust, having her cock in a choke hold as each time made Jennie moan right into her ear.

"You make me feel so good." Y/n let out a choked moan, her hips pushing into Jennie as her body turned into a heat that coursed through every nerve and vein. A sheen of sweat covered their bodies that pressed against each other with their heat conjoined. "Who else fucks your slutty pussy this good, hmm? Who else can get you like this?" She rasped, biting along her shoulder and up to her ear that she pulled at with her lips before kissing. Her hips were ruthless as she kept up the rough thrust that made her pant for air.

"Just you, only you can fuck me this good–your dick is the only dick that can fill me up this good."

Jennie's breathing got deeper and heavier, her heart beating harder as her balls tightened, being close to releasing another load. "Your pussy is so good, my favourite, I just wanna empty my balls into you 'cause you take me so well. You deserve all of my cum, baby." Y/n's moans were falling breathless after Jennie's tip had been abusing her g-spot the whole time. Jennie let go of her wrists. Y/n grasped at the sheets and Jennie moved her hand down and grabbed her hip. She lifted them slightly before letting her hand run down between Y/n's thighs.

"Jennie– Oh, I'm gonna–"

"Show me how good you feel." Jennie urged, her fingers circling the girl's clit in a motion that made her whole body tense.

She watched the girl whose mouth was agape, eyes barely open and all she could see were the whites when Y/n's body spasmed more into her. The orgasm washed over her hard, black and white filling her vision as high-pitched moans spilled through her plump and wet lips without a pause, making her run out of breath at the end. It made her whole body weak and dizzy, whining at how the fingers were still playing with her clit.

"I'm so close, I'm gonna cum so much." Jennie groaned out through the deep breaths and Y/n managed to find her words.

"On me. Please, Jennie." She pleaded, wanting Jennie to paint her with her thick and hot cum. It made her hips stutter and her stomach flexed, edging herself because of the request. She didn't waste time as she grabbed the base of her length and pulled out, getting off her thighs.

"Get the fuck up, I'm not gonna hold it for you." She gritted out, helping Y/n with one hand while removing the condom with the other. Her tip was swollen, throbbing and begging for a release, her balls having plenty for the vixen. Y/n got turned onto her back and Jennie stood on her knees beside her, the girl expectantly looking up at her. Eyes falling to the thick cock, a long vein running on the underside, her tip bright red and mushroom-shaped and her balls big and heavy.

Jennie jerked at her dick, staring the girl down, getting more turned on by how submissive she was being, how she had all the control, how she was begging for her. The power that she held over someone like Y/n. She looked at her perky breast, nipples hard and the silver jewellery pierced through them. Her eyes drowned in the perfect body laid out for her, how hot and sexy the girl was until her eyes landed back on her face, those sharp siren-like eyes, dark brown locks, luscious lips, flawless skin, every little feature.

It made Jennie raise her hand to her mouth and bite down on her fist to muffle the whimpers when her balls tightened and the cum started to shoot out of her tip. Her back arched as she bucked her hips into her hand, doing her best to control where it was going, but it seemed impossible at how intense the orgasm was this time compared to when she came in her pants. Her whimpering and moaning muffled and Y/n felt the warm and creamy release splattering onto her skin.

She didn't want the girl mocking her for it once again because she knew how mean Y/n was.

She heaved, breaths shaky as she managed to open her eyes which closed at some point. She did one last stroke and this time the cum just leaked out of her tip, dripping down onto the sheets as her dick started to go limp.

"Fuck, you look hot." She breathed out and Y/n glanced down at her chest which was covered in the fluid and she felt some on her face.

"Give me my phone." Y/n requested, holding her hand out as she lay in the same position, not having the energy to move at the moment. Jennie slumped down and reached over to the nightstand, taking the girl's phone before handing it to her, not realising how she obeyed each request no matter the girl's tone.

"Will you take a picture and send it to me?" She asked with a hopeful tone as she knew that she would be able to get off to the picture every single day for at least a week before asking for a new one. Y/n scoffed at the request.

"No, are you dumb?" She asked and Jennie frowned.

"Why not, you've sent pictures before?"

"Cause I am naked." She had sent the girl pictures, but never any nudes and never showed her face in them aside from a glimpse of her lips. Jennie grumbled to herself, trying to get a mental picture of the masterpieces she created on the girl. Y/n still opened her camera to see where it all was.

"You fucking cunt, you came in my hair." She complained and Jennie groaned when she got kicked in the thigh. Y/n turned her phone off and threw it to the side before she sat up, facing Jennie. She looked over her, the woman almost lying down as she sat leaning against the headboard. A frown and her lips puckered at the treatment. Her dick rested against her thigh and it wouldn't be long until it would be all ready for Y/n to take again. "Don't make that face until you've had cum in your hair." Y/n hissed and sucked air through her teeth.

"Where're you going?" Jennie asked when Y/n got up from the bed.

"Shower."

"I'm coming too–Wait, have you–" Jennie paused and sat up at the edge of the bed, Y/n looked back at the woman who sighed.

"Are you hungry?" Y/n raised her eyebrows at that and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess, I haven't eaten today." She replied. She hadn't had time to eat as her fridge was empty and she didn't have money for takeout or the time to buy any groceries. It was always Asher who did these things since the girl got too busy, but things got in the way after they had another fight and he never managed to buy anything before needing to leave for the weekend.

She did fight with him, but she fought even more with Jennie who was the side thing. It made little sense, but it stayed.

"Why not?" Jennie asked, wondering how the girl was even standing up as it was close to 8 p.m. and she had some pretty intense sex a second ago. Jennie's legs felt like jelly and she sat at the bed, watching Y/n's naked figure.

"Haven't had time and my fridge is empty and I am too broke to order," Y/n answered while opening the closet door and taking out new sweats and tee. She stopped for a second and remembered the pair of sweats Jennie had forgotten after having spare clothes with her. She reached for the pair of grey sweats she had stuffed behind the rest of her bottoms. "Why do you care so much?" She asked with a sigh and turned back around, closing the door after her.

"I feel like it is a normal thing to care about people." Y/n only hummed and threw the sweats to Jennie before she headed for the door to get to the bathroom. Jennie quickly got up to not get locked out of the bathroom for taking too long once again, taking her phone and shirt with her. "Can I order food then?" She questioned and she usually left right after, but that hadn't been the case with Y/n for the past months. Never did she spare the women a second glance, she viewed them as her sex toys she threw away after using once, but Y/n was a doll she wanted to last a bit longer so she treated her well.

Whatever treating someone well was in Jennie's world.

"Do whatever you want."

"Well, I mean can I order food for us both?" She rephrased her question for the girl. Following Y/n who walked into the bathroom which was right beside the bedroom from the side where the front door was.

"How long do you plan on staying? Friends are coming tomorrow at around 4," Y/n asked instead.

"I could leave before that? Or do you not want me to stay the night?" She confusedly asked and stepped inside the bathroom that wasn't too big with just a simple glass shower in the corner, a sink with a mirror and the toilet. At this point, she had fucked the girl on probably every surface in the apartment. She closed the door before she tossed the clothes onto the towel rack and Y/n started the shower.

"I was supposed to be studying."

"You can do that."

"Without anyone trying to stuff their dick inside me like a horny teenager." Jennie pursed her lips at that and ran a hand through her slightly tousled hair. She stepped into the shower where Y/n already was, closing the glass door and getting under the steaming water that was pouring down on them. "What if I don't? Or you could study tomorrow or any other day." She tried since she wanted to stay as long as possible since there was no telling when she would get to be with Y/n again. She wanted to get as much sex as possible in case the same problem occurred with another girl again. It could take anything from a day to a week. Jennie's arm would get sore.

"Fine."

"Good, I already ordered the food." She mumbled as she was starving after the sex with the succubus of a girl. Y/n rolled her eyes and Jennie grabbed hold of her hips, turning her around so she would face her. She pulled her closer and captured her wet lips with her own, the girl humming as she parted her lips for Jennie.

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @xszn @badasgff @badaspookie @hwm1hyun / taglist is open

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moriwood · 7 months

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One More Shot — l.hs

lee heeseung x male reader angst (heavy?) 1k words

Your best friend Heeseung bursts into your apartment with soju after breaking up with his nth girlfriend of the year. A few bottles later and the true meaning of your relationship with him is put into question.

includes: drinking and crying, bros being homos(?), cringy dramatic lines warning: toxic relationships, blood and violence? (very very minor, like 2 sentences max)

“Get in,” you sigh, beckoning your best friend Heeseung into your apartment. In his hands were heavy plastic bags, one full of liquor and the other snacks. He trudges past you, dropping himself and his items on your couch before staring at you wistfully.

“She broke up with me,” he hesitates, “said I had someone else in my mind or something, whatever excuse that was.”

You lean against the doorframe. “Well, do you?”

Heeseung scrunches his face in disgust. “No, dude. I suck at relationships but I don’t cheat.”

You take the bags from him and set the bottles of Yakult and soju on your coffee table. “The Yakult’s for you, wimp,” Heeseung weakly smiles.

“What’s up then?” you mumble, opening two bottles of soju. Heeseung immediately grabs a bottle and chugs it down.

“That bad?” you ask. “Three weeks of that girl got you that bad?”

Heeseung laughs.

“Exactly, dude! Three weeks, fucking three weeks. I can’t make these relationships last.”

You wish you knew. Heeseung has practically thrown himself to any woman who showed him interest for the past year, and a delusional version of you would love to link this phenomenon to something that you said a year ago.

It’s not like Heeseung is a bad guy, he really isn’t. He’s a romanticist, he likes bouquets of flowers, the arm around the shoulder, the subtle kisses to the nape… A part of you wishes you could’ve been one of the dozen women instead, but you knew where your place was.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Heeseung,” you chuckle, “it’s not like I’ve dated anyone yet.”

You grab yourself a bottle of soju, taking a glance at the pack of Yakult to the side. Maybe not tonight. You could drink soju by itself anyway, you think.

“No Yakult? ‘Lil bro trying to man up?”

You shrug. Heeseung stares at you oddly before grabbing another bottle to drink. The two of you sit in silence, trading snacks in between sips of soju. You’ve always been satisfied with this ritual of yours with him, just the warmth between the two of you equating to a hundred unspoken sentences. Yet, this one feels different. The television’s off, no video games are being played, and there is an invisible wall dividing you from leaning on him. Heeseung is on edge, distant, as if holding back.

As you both drink the silence away, you slowly slip into a different space of inebriation.

“Sometimes, I wonder,” Heeseung seems to think over the next words in his mind, “why you’re still friends with me.”

So that’s what he really wanted to talk about.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. You really don’t know.

“All these women come and go but you’re still here.”

“They were girlfriends. I’m your best friend,” you reason, hoping that it’s enough to cut the conversation off without delving into something else.

“But you liked me, didn’t you?”

Maybe Heeseung is actually not that good of a person. Perhaps, you’ve just gotten used to him, standing right there beside him, a fallback for when things go awry. A convenience store receipt crumples beneath your feet, reminding you that you sent him money for your drinks and snacks tonight.

“We don’t have to talk about that anymore, Heeseung,” you warn him, “it was a year ago.”

“It still hasn’t changed though, right?”

You open another bottle of soju for yourself but Heeseung only snatches it away. He chugs it all down again, before standing and clasping his clammy hands on your shoulders. He was pinning you down to your couch.

“Answer me.”

You close your eyes and breathe deeply. “What do you want me to say, Heeseung?”

“You know, she always felt off whenever you were with me. You hovered around us, clinging onto me like some fucking lost kid. God, I swear you’ve made this year so miserable for me.”

You’re trembling. Your room starts to stink of liquor as Heeseung continues to breathe down on you.

“Are you trying to blame me for you being a shitty boyfriend?” you whisper as you stare directly into his rage-filled eyes. Then you shove his hands away, standing up to meet his height.

“You shouldn't have said anything. You should’ve just kept it all to yourself. Now, my mind's all messed up. I don't know how to approach you, I don't know how to approach all of this bullshit!”

“I told you I'd understand if you wanted to end the friendship, Heeseung! I’m not the one who crawled back here weeks later pretending nothing happened,” you exasperate, accidentally knocking a bottle off the floor with your foot, causing it to shatter and spill over your wooden floor.

Heeseung attempts to pull you away from the shards but you push his hand away. He insists, shoving you to a dry side of your couch. He pins you again but now he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Fuck, it’s all coming out wrong,” Heeseung says under his breath, speech slightly slurred with drunkenness. The sleeve of your shirt gets wet as Heeseung begins to sob.

“I should’ve given you the chance,” he finally says. “I shouldn’t have rejected you back then.”

Your hands find their way to Heeseung’s back, attempting to soothe him as he slowly embraces you tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats between hiccups. “It was so hard for me to admit it but I think I like you too.”

The thought has been prodding at the back of your head since that moment from a year ago, that there must be a reason why Heeseung chose to remain friends with you despite your confession. There must be a reason why there became a palpable tension between the two of you each time you met since then. You’re giddy with the feeling of your repressed feelings finally being reciprocated, and the liquor in your system only rouses you further.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

You feel pain spike up your leg, noticing a slit on your foot bleeding, mixing with the spilled soju. Let the brain run later as the heart decides to beat what it wants.

“No, you’re not, Heeseung, you’re not. You’re right on time.”

author's note: this is my first fic! very new to this platform (in terms of posting) so please be gentle if it sucks jk. feels like i could flesh this out more ngl aioksaozkasd i decided to start posting cuz of my friend hehet~ now somebody please tell me what to do next 💀 (sorry for rambling)

— moriwood.

#enhypen x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung x male reader #angst #heavy angst #flash fiction #mori fics

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 4 months

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I Can Fix That... Pt. 2 | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

author's note: I decided to make a pt. 2 purely for my own enjoyment, though I hope there are others out there as sadistic as myself. I finally watched the Batman trilogy and did research on DC fan pages to write this. It follows the plot of Nolan's DC adaptation so all characters mentioned (like Ra's Al Ghul) are from the comics and movies.

Summary| She gave into Crane because she needed to survive, at least that's what she's tried to tell herself, but there was something about this man that just felt so painfully... right. Now Crane has a proposition and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer because he's starting to like her -- uh oh-- too much. Where will their new agreement lead them when Gotham devolves into chaos?

Warnings| Based on an DC action movie- drugging, slut shaming, fear and terror, dubious kidnapping, restraints, drugs, physical violence, spitting, toxic relationship, mentions of a gun, chaos, and needles. I know- it's a lot.

word count: 8596k (lol oopsies?)

Wires- The Neighborhood 🎶

Where did you sleep last night- Iridium, Salazar, Liam Marks 🎵

Caesar on a TV Screen- The Last Dinner Party 🎶

The detective nodded her head, surprised that she’d so easily forgotten her plan. Dr. Crane sniffed and spun his set of keys around his finger casually.

“Now the best thing about being the creator of my fear serum,” he started, moving to the shelf of vials he had previously sorted, “is that I have an endless supply and every opportunity to use it whenever I want.” She could hear him smile but she could no longer see him. Crane admittedly liked the girl and he’d fucked her as a minor pivot in his original plan for the night. Now, it was time for business. He pulled a dish of powder from a locked drawer and hid it away from sight as he crossed back into the girl’s view. “You may think you understand what my serum can do, but you’ll never truly know until you try it.” She furrowed her brow and shook her head, wishing that she could back away from him but she couldn’t move. He changed the subject swiftly, not giving her a moment.

“I applaud you for your performance tonight. I was more than willing to humor you and of course, your present state did you many favors. I like my women tied down…” he joked and chuckled darkly. “But now, we need to get practical.” He removed his glasses and folded them slowly. He slipped them into his breast pocket. “You know too much, Miss —, and we both know that your current allegiance to your job would prioritize a crude sense of justice over your affection for me. We can’t have that, can we? So, I’d like to propose a solution or a treatment of sorts.” He clenched his jaw, angling his head down so that he was looking up at her through his eyelashes. “You’ve already proven to yourself tonight that the mind has complete control over the body. Desire rules judgment… and I want to rule you.” He smiled darkly. Before she could speak, powder was thrown into her face, blocking every orifice with a sickening gas.

The anxiety was immediate. She saw strange creatures approach her from all sides, poking and prodding her with dirty nails. She saw the walls leak a disgusting fluid, like blood and fecal matter and it spilled over the floor. People sorted through the liquid for scraps, children screamed and cried around her. She’d been one of those children, raised in an orphanage because her parents couldn’t afford to keep her. Strange men swarmed the children, offering toxic treats and money for favors which the children shied away from. She screamed, pulling at her restraints as she tried to fight off the assailants. She shook her head violently side to side, and she screamed involuntarily with raw terror at what she saw. In the midst of a nightmare of Gotham’s poverty and dark underbelly, Dr. Jonathan Crane stood calmly before her. He watched her, his arms crossed against his chest. He cocked his head to the side.

“What do you see,” he asked calmly. She turned her attention to him like he was a beacon of light in a horrible storm.

“Jonathan, help me!” She cried.

“Tell me what you see,” he said again and clucked his tongue to calm her. She looked around again at the people she saw, rummaging through mountains of trash.

“Horrible… horrible poverty. The things… the things I saw as a child. People starving, children crying…” she whimpered. Rats scrambled across her body and she screamed again, shaking against the table. “Jonathan, please!” She called for him and he waded towards her, oblivious to the horror around him. He stood above her and stroked her face. He removed the restraints from her waist and her wrists and helped her sit up. The things she saw darted out of her peripheral vision, distorted now and hard to understand. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t tell where she was anymore, where her body was in relation to her perspective. Did she even still have a body?

Dr. Crane grunted as he helped her off the table and held her up beside him. She fainted in his arms and he carried her out of the secondary lab into the corridor. He punched the elevator’s call button with his free hand and dragged her inside. As the large steel doors closed, he fished for his cellphone in his pocket and called his driver, telling him to meet him outside the hospital immediately. Crane hushed her, gently patting her head though she was still unconscious. The elevator dropped them at the floor she’d entered on originally and Crane carried her to the side door, ignoring the looks the night attendants gave the strange couple. A sleek black car waited outside in the alley, the engine running and dispelling smoky exhaust into the air around them. Crane opened the car door and helped her inside, smirking at the security guard at the door.

“Our meeting was successful, thank you officer.” He waved goodnight to the security guard who shifted awkwardly in his seat at the side door. Climbing in after her, Crane leaned over the console to speak with his driver.

“My apartment, please.” He gave the order sternly, even with the addition of the ‘please,’ and the driver nodded, speeding off into Gotham’s dark streets. His hand rested comfortably on her thigh as he watched her. She started to come to in the backseat, though the effects of the drug had still not worn off. Her breath was fast and she leaned deliriously into Crane’s shoulder, seeking protection from what she saw outside the tinted windows. She was so afraid that she felt safer in the arms of the man that had drugged her, and it would take hours to realize that, but by the time she did, the psychological effects would have already taken root.

The car stopped outside of a dark apartment building in one of the only nice parts of town in Gotham city. It was raining as he helped her back out of the car and into the large lobby of his apartment building. She clung to his arm as he led her into an elevator, playing a soft melody that sounded like shrill screams to her intoxicated mind. As the elevator doors opened, effects of the drug began to wane though her heartbeat was still racing. She looked up at Crane’s sharp jaw and how he clenched it as he opened the door to his apartment and pushed her gently inside.

“I pay my people extra to turn a blind eye to everything that I do. I understand these circumstances appear even more nefarious, being that I have admittedly drugged you and brought you to my apartment. What can I say, I’m a bad feminist.” He smiled darkly and locked the door.

“When do I stop seeing… these things?” She collapsed into a chair behind her and cradled her head in her hands.

“The effects will be gone in an hour,” he responded coolly and switched on some of the lights in his modern apartment. The apartment was two stories with a spiral staircase and an elevator that led to the upstairs. She looked around, trying her best to ignore the hallucinations and study the actual apartment itself.

“You’ll be disappointed to know that I don’t have a lab here, it’s against the building’s codes. I spend very little time here actually, I’m always at Arkham or dealing with detectives… like you. I’m a busy man. Like I already told you, I have plans to ‘treat’ Falcone tomorrow so I’ll need that room free. This is the next best option and I think you’ll find it more comfortable in comparison.” He smirked and flicked a switch, immediately two restraints looped tightly around her wrists, emerging from a panel in the arms of the chair that she hadn’t noticed. Second restraints looped around her ankles, reminding her as her ankles were spread apart that he had removed her underwear. She turned her knees inward, hiding her crotch and scoffing with frustration.

“Again?” She groaned and pulled at the strong leather material holding her to the chair.

“You sound disappointed,” Crane observed with a small smirk. “It’s only temporary. I didn’t get a chance to question you back at the lab, so we’ll do that here.” He gestured to his empty apartment and started to walk toward her slowly. His lips curled cruelly as he looked her up and down, strapped to the chair. “So tell me, what do you know?” He whispered and she stopped struggling for a moment. She still felt jumpy and nervous but having him so close relieved some of those feelings. The effects of the drug wore off more but the underlying sense of anxiety and loss of control prompted her to answer honestly.

I know that you are trying to make a powerful drug that mimics fear and so far, you’ve put it in a powder form. It works when ingested in some ways and immediately elicits a response that incapacitates the victim. You want to use it widely, to control Gotham…”

“Right, what else.” He leaned on the arms of the chair, his hands grasped around her wrists.

“You don’t work for Falcone but you work with someone else. You’ve just been using Falcone’s drug operation to move your own prototypes of the fear serum. You want to be in charge and you know that fear can do whatever you want it to. The mind controls the body,” she recalled a sentence that he had used before he had thrown the powder in her face. “You’re also somehow connected to the missing micro-wave emmitter. I don’t know why but it may help you in some way, how?” She was breathing heavily like she was going to fall asleep.

“Good work, detective.”

“What are you using the micro-wave emitter for?” She asked. He chuckled and removed his hands from her wrists, backing up. He approached a small liquor cart and poured himself a drink, straight gin. She continued as he drank.

“Who are you working with and how do you expect to control Gotham when everyone loses their minds?” She could barely contain her voice, anger and confusion rose into her throat like bile.

“So many questions…” he swallowed and set down his glass, turning back to her slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to figure that out for yourself?” He raised his eyebrow.

“The mirco-wave emitter would dry out any water supply that it comes into contact with. Wouldn’t it be easier to poison the water supply, you would reach more people… unless it doesn’t have the same effect when administered in water.” She looked up at him but his face was hard. “That’s why you’ve been using it in a powder, it only works in a powder form. If you dry up the water supply and release the powder into the air, there isn’t a way to combat the effects, is there?”

Crane smiled and nodded slowly, “right again.”

“How can you control people who have lost their minds on the serum? You can’t control chaos.” She furrowed her brow and leaned forward, questioning him. Crane cocked his head and studied her for a moment, noticing the last traces of the fear serum leaving her body.

“Control has many forms, Y/N. The chaos that will come from my serum is planned, its existence is strategically executed.”

“But why are you doing this?”

“I love it when you get flustered,” he chuckled darkly at her and licked his lips, his eyes rolling before returning to her face. “It’s not just me, I work for a large organization that has been responsible for all historical catastrophes throughout history. We deal in balance, balanced chaos. They hired me because I can control fear, I know how to use it and weaponize it. Gotham needs to be balanced and it cannot be balanced without it first destroying itself. Create a closed environment with the population’s problems and confront them with chaos, the balance will soon be restored.”

“Who do you work for?” She whispered, her eyes wide.

“Don’t you mean, who do we work for?” He crouched at her feet and placed his hands on her thighs. He smiled crazily up at her and she leaned away from him.

“What?” She whispered.

“I work for the League of Shadows, and now, so do you.” He dug his finger into the soft bottom of her chin and pushed her head up so that she could see the second floor more clearly.

Standing at the rail were men clad in dark armor. One man stood out from the rest. He wore a black suit and carried a gold-tipped cane. He had long whiskers of gray hair like a mustache and steady cool eyes, deadlier than Crane’s.

“Good work, Dr. Crane.” The man kept his focus on her and her blood went cold. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss —. We’ve heard so much about you and of course, you’re the one that has caused us so much trouble!” He laughed sarcastically and descended the spiral staircase.

“Who are you?” She growled.

“Ra’s Al Ghul,” he smiled and the wrinkles on his face creased, pulling against his eyes. “I see you’ve already become acquainted with Dr. Crane, our very own criminal mastermind.”

“You’re too kind,” Crane smarted back, watching the girl’s face as she tried to take in all of the new information.

“Now, I have a job proposition to offer you, Miss —. You seem to have figured most of our plan out but I don’t think you understand the complexity of our organization. You see, the League of Shadows is an ancient organization that has balanced the harmony of every major city in the world since the beginning of time. Gotham has gone bad, to the point of no return. Your ‘Batman’ as you call him can’t reverse what has been brewing for years. He never saw what you did, how the people of Gotham live in filth and poverty while the elite few enjoy the spoils. This city needs to be reborn, it needs chaos to restore the balance.”

“But wouldn’t you be killing thousands of innocent people?” She interjected and Al Ghul shrugged slightly.

“Nobody’s innocent,” he answered quickly and then inhaled, clarifying, “Anyway, that’s not what we want to do here. If we take control of the city and hold it for ransom, we can work out a deal to replace the crooked government with some of our people. I’m offering you a role alongside my people. You’re smart, all that evidence you collected against Crane- none of the senior officers could have held a match to it. We destroyed it of course, as soon as Crane told us about your little visit.” She looked past Al Ghul to Crane who leaned against the wall calmly. Had they destroyed the copies? How could she be sure that they were telling the truth? “The box of evidence you had put aside for Sgt. Gordon was the hardest to find but we found it. What made you suspect Dr. Crane? Was it a gut instinct?” He drew on before she interrupted him.

“You want me to help you kill people?” She furrowed her brow and nearly laughed in disbelief.

“We want your help to save Gotham from itself and establish a new and better government.” He corrected, fixing his posture. Crane watched her closely and spoke up from the back of the room.

“She’ll do it,” he answered and she opened her mouth to interject but his smirk silenced her. “She’ll do it because whether or not she wants to admit it, Miss —, is like us.” Crane reached into his breast pocket and removed his glasses. He cleaned the panels with a dish towel and pushed them onto his nose. She looked between Crane and Al Ghul, her heart beating quickly in her chest.

“Will you join us, will you help us save Gotham?” Ra’s Al Ghul placed both of his hands on top of his walking stick and shifted his weight evenly between his feet. Crane folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile played on his wide pink lips. Her decision surprised her but the serum had already changed her chemistry, Crane had revealed her true self to herself and there was only one choice left.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Crane nodded, “good girl.”

iii

She was released from her restraints and she rubbed her wrists where the leather marked them. Ra’s Al Ghul snapped his fingers and a map was rolled out on Crane’s dining room table. The map was of the entire city of Gotham, showing the sewer and water lines. They explained the plan, showing her where the micro-wave emitter would be placed in the city and how it would be moved through each neighborhood.

“What about the police?” She asked and gestured to the map of the city. Crane laughed and shook his head.

“You were the only cop that suspected this, the rest will have no idea until it's already started. The person we really need to worry about is Batman,” he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at Al Ghul, “luckily for him, an old friend is coming by to visit.” Al Ghul nodded and smiled kindly at her.

“Batman and I go way back. I’ll take care of him.”

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Crane caught himself staring and cleared his throat.

“You’ll help me with the production of the powder, ensuring that your cop friends don’t figure out too much and keeping Sgt. Gordon away from Arkham or leading him astray… anything,” Crane answered, setting his face as he spoke. She nodded.

Though they had asked her to join their efforts, they also obviously didn’t trust her completely. They wouldn’t tell her everything, she knew. Her night had gone in a completely different direction than how she had imagined it. Everything had changed after the fear serum, it had shown her that what she feared most had already happened. The police were corrupt, run by small-time gangsters and criminals and crime continued to run rampant as the state lost more and more money, forcing social service organizations to close and more families out on the streets. This whole time she thought that the police could solve the problem but they only caused it. Crane was right, she was like him and she would do anything she could to change the city. After the meeting, Crane poured her a drink and dissolved a packet of powder into the liquor. He stirred it in front of her and Al Ghul before sliding it across the table’s surface.

“This will put you to sleep for a few hours, twelve at most. It’s only a precaution to make sure that you have truly promised your allegiance to us. Everything that you say will be monitored from this point on.”

“Everything?” She looked at Crane who clenched his jaw, a faint tease of blush spread on his cheeks.

“Everything. Do as we say and follow our rules and you stay alive,” Crane finished and tapped the rim of the glass. “Now drink.”

“How do I know that you aren’t just poisoning me?” She asked the men around her.

“We’re learning to trust each other, but you have to go first.” He smiled and when Al Ghul said nothing, she took the glass and drank it slowly. The last thing she saw were Crane’s eyes, set perfectly on her.

She was conscious enough to set her glass down before falling back onto the couch. Crane approached her quickly and checked her pulse, monitoring her reaction to the drug.

“Did it work?” Ra’s Al Ghul asked behind him and he nodded.

“Yes, she’s out. Because of all the drugs in her system already, this one may take longer to wear off.”

“All the other drugs?” Al Ghul raised his eyebrow and Crane chuckled.

“I couldn’t help myself and besides,” he turned to Al Ghul, “you wanted her alive.”

“I’m not convinced that we can trust her,” Al Ghul shook his head and pointed at the map for his men to clean up.

“Oh, I’ll make sure we can.”

“With your mind tricks?” Al Ghul teased and Crane sighed, rolling his beautiful eyes.

“Don’t insult me, Ra’s. I know what I’m doing.” He warned the man calmly and nodded to the men. Two men helped carry her body as Crane led them back down the elevator into the lobby which was deserted at that time in the early morning. They climbed into Crane’s waiting car and pulled away from the curb. The girl’s body was limp against the seat and Crane resisted the urge to stare at her, fascinated by her sleeping body. The men carried her up to her apartment on the third floor of a small walkup. Crane rummaged through her coat pockets for the key into her apartment and unlocked the door.

Her apartment was small and cozy, furnished with minimal couches and chairs. Books and art decorated the walls. Crane pushed through the door and directed the men to lie her down in her bedroom, the small room off of the main living area. They men looked back at him expectantly as he stood by the doorway, watching her sleep. He rolled his eyes and shooed them away. What did they think he was going to do? He’d already fucked her. Alone in her apartment, he stood by her bed and stroked her cheek. She slept on, engulfed by unconscious darkness. He leaned over her slowly and grasped her throat gently, exhaling across her face. He said nothing but looked her up and down and smirked, pleased at the sight of her. He’d won another spoil: her.

She woke up in her bed, twisted in the sheets as if she had been restless all night. She was sweaty and hot, the air stuffy around her. Crane and Al Ghul were nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch and hurried out of bed, stripping off her clothes from the night before and into black trousers and a dark blue sweater. She stumbled into the living room and wound her hair up into a claw clip, moving towards the door when a voice startled her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dr. Crane spoke from the couch. He was in a fresh suit and looked well-rested. He was taking notes in a file on Falcone, his briefcase sat on the coffee table in front of him. She jumped, gasping from shock.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you to wake up. We have work to do today. That bitch at the DA’s office wants to speak with me. I'm supposed to meet with her this afternoon. She’s questioning Falcone’s transfer.”

“I ordered the transfer after you did Falcone’s interview, maybe I could meet with her instead.”

“No, I need you to take this file to the judge on Falcone’s case. I can handle her questions.” He stood and held out Falcone’s file. “I already gave my statement at the hearing but this file will confirm my medical opinion, hopefully that will get her off my back.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Do you think Falcone will talk if she speaks with him?”

“Possibly,” he bent his head side to side and shrugged, “but we aren’t going to find out. Let’s go,” he snapped his briefcase closed and made for the front door. She glanced from the couch to her bedroom.

“Were you watching me all night?” She flushed angrily and followed him. He closed the door suddenly and spun her around, forcing her back against the front door.

“I can only say this once because they aren’t listening now but as soon as we get in the car, they’ll be monitoring you. I am keeping you alive, Miss —. I will do everything in my power to keep you alive but the second you step away from me, you’re on your own. I know we have an understanding so believe me when I say that I would prefer very much if you didn’t die. Follow my directions because they’re following you.” He said in a harsh whisper, a strand of hair falling into his face. They stared at each other in silence, exchanging breath when he kissed her harshly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned softly against his lips. He bucked into her hips and she gasped softly against his jaw. And just as quickly, he pulled away, breathing heavily and led her out the door and down the stairs into the waiting car.

“I’ll need my gun back,” she pointed out as they settled on the backseat. Crane sighed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He opened a small compartment in the car door and retrieved her gun. As he held it out, he took her jaw in his other hand, his thumb pressing into her fleshy cheek.

“This is where that trust would come in handy, detective.” He whispered darkly. She looked at his lips and then up to his eyes, speechless around him. He watched her struggle for words and chuckled, handing her the gun. “Be careful, Y/N, and remember Ra’s plan.” He looked at her lips and sniffed, slapping the roof of the car. “This is her stop.”

She met with the judge who oversaw Falcone’s case and gave him the thick folder. He looked at it briefly before recognizing the information.

“I appreciate you coming out to speak to me about Falcone’s transfer to Arkham but I cleared everything with Ms. Dawes yesterday. She’s already scheduled a second psychiatrist to meet with Falcone first thing tomorrow morning. She mentioned that she’s also requested Dr. Crane’s case file. Has she seen this?” He waved the folder and she clicked her tongue, shocked that she had scheduled a second opinion and that Crane didn’t know about it.

“I’m not sure, sir. I was the detective working with the prosecution and I was the one who oversaw Dr. Crane’s examination and request for transfer. I can attest to Falcone's mood at the time as well. He screamed nonstop as Crane was trying to conduct a test of sanity. Anyway, I wanted to make sure that you saw Dr. Crane’s diagnosis in the aftermath of his transfer. This has updated notes that Dr. Crane shared with me. It might be useful in your deliberation.” She smiled and the judge looked down his nose at the folder.

“Good point. Thank you, detective. This is helpful.” He opened the folder on his desk and put on his rounded spectacles.

“Well now that we’ve spoken, I’ll try to catch Dawes and save her the trouble.” She pushed back her chair and brushed off her trousers.

“Miss —?” The judge called from his desk.

“Yes, sir?” She looked back.

“Dr. Crane has committed many of Falcone’s men to Arkham in the past few months, is that correct?”

“Yes,” she nodded and her heart raced.

“That must be a pretty crazy group.” The judge laughed and went back to the folder, completely missing the pattern. She sighed in relief and left quickly. She started to walk to Arkham, moving so quickly she felt like she may have been running. Dawes had already scheduled a second opinion, meaning that she was probably at Arkham pressuring Crane for his detailed diagnosis. It would take Dawes one second to figure it out so she hoped she could get there quickly enough to do something. She had no plan which she knew was stupid but whatever was bound to happen in the next few hours would be bad and she needed to help Crane. Her phone began to ring and she put it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.”

“Ra’s?”

“Are you on your way to Arkham?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Turn around and go back to your precinct. I want you to stick close to Sgt. Gordon, go where he goes. You’re his top detective so run with it. If anything happens at Arkham, he’ll be there and I want you there with him. Crane will be fine.”

She slowed to a stop, skeptical but wanting to believe what her new boss was telling her, “ok, sir.”

After a second of silence, Ra’s added, “It’s Batman’s birthday and what better way to celebrate a playboy than with chaos?” The call ended before she could respond.

She spun around and headed straight for the precinct. She spotted Gordon at his desk, working on paperwork. She hurried over and knocked on the door, letting herself in when he waved.

“Good, I’m glad to see you. I need to run some ideas by you for the Falcone case.”

“I just dropped off Crane's diagnosis for the judge but he said that Dawes may be seeking a second opinion.”

“About that -” The intercom went off with a loud screech.

“Attention all units! Attention all units! Batman was spotted at Arkham Asylum. He is believed to be armed and dangerous. Backup is requested at this time.” The voice repeated with a robotic drone. Sgt. Gordon looked from the speaker to her and grabbed his coat from his chair.

“We need to get to the asylum right now.” Gordon yelled and she followed him closely, checking that her gun was still secured to her hip. She clipped her badge to her front pocket and pretended to sound confused.

“Why are we going, Sgt? Do you think this is about Falcone?”

“It might, I’d feel better if I was there to find out; and if Batman is there, someone’s in trouble.” They hurried down the stairs and climbed into a car. Gordon sped away from the precinct and ran red lights. The tires bled across the roads as they came to a screeching halt behind a row of police cars parked outside the Asylum.

“Why is everyone waiting outside?” She yelled over the noise. An officer standing with his gun aimed at the building yelled back.

“We’re waiting for backup!”

“They’ll be here soon, sir. We should wait!” She yelled over the noise at the Sgt.

Gordon looked up at the building and pulled his gun from his holster. He started moving towards the building, looking back to wave her on.

“I’m going in. You coming?” He called.

She groaned anxiously beneath her breath before responding, “yes, sir!” They raced up the stairs into the lobby which was left completely vacant. Gordon held up his gun and she followed suit, staying close behind him. She felt the urge to kill him now and find Crane but her gut warned her that someone else was in the room, watching. They walked slowly through the main corridor, past the abandoned security checkpoint, creeping closer to the wide atrium. When they stepped beneath the enormous domed ceiling a loud noise broke through the top of the building. She looked up and covered her face with her forearm to protect her eyes from large shards of falling glass. She saw a large dark blur surround Sgt. Gordon and pull him up to the roof.

“Sgt. Gordon!” She yelled after him. She knew immediately that the blur was that bastard Batman. A small laugh escaped her mouth as she shook her head and lowered her gun. A group of SWAT ran in seconds later. She pointed at the ceiling with her gun and called them over.

“He came down and took Sgt. Gordon!”

“Who?” Someone yelled at her and she shook her head, pretending to be unsure.

“I don’t know! I think it was Batman.” She yelled, adding to their panic.

“Batman!” Someone shouted and in the moment of distraction, she slipped away into a side corridor. She bolted towards a staircase and stopped at every floor, looking for signs of activity. Her body burned with soreness as she sprinted down each corridor. She wanted to scream his name but her lungs wouldn’t allow her the extra air to do so. She rounded a corner and ran into a group of police. They all started shouting at her until she showed them her badge.

“I’m a detective- What the hell is going on here?” She yelled.

“We’re looking for Dr. Crane!”

“Have you seen Sgt. Gordon?” She asked, panting and trying not to panic when they mentioned Crane’s name. “He disappeared and I've been looking for him.”

“No, we haven’t. We got a call that they found drugs in the building and then Batman showed up. Crane was running the operation.” One police officer responded and jerked their head to the side where they were going to run next. “It's down this corridor!”

“I’ll come with you,” she shouted and led the unit, her gun pointed at the ground. Two large doors were falling off their hinges further down the hallway. The room itself was smokey and gaseous. She looked down from the doorway where there were stairs leading into a cement lined room like an empty indoor pool. Tables were littered with Crane’s fear serum and men that she assumed were dead. Huge vats of liquid marked with a toxic symbol sat on their sides by an open waterline.

“This is it,” she said to the officer beside her and started to descend the staircase. The smoke made it hard to see so she moved slowly, looking around the floor for Crane’s familiar face. The men she saw were all part of Falcone’s posse who had been hired to help the drug operation run. Something snapped beneath her food and she looked down, seeing Crane’s scarecrow mask which she recognized from his drawing. She picked it up and looked around anxiously, her fingers around the gun shook. Then she saw him. Crane was propped up against a wall and bleeding slightly from the head, a thin trail of blood oozed on the wall behind his head. He was panting and flailing around, his pupils were mere penpoints. He’d been attacked with his own fear powder. She looked around before dropping into a crouch beside him. He recognized her but continued to shake, his eyes darting around her head.

“Jonathan,” she whispered, “it's me.”

“Did you find him?” Someone shouted and she yelled back that she had. He raised a judgemental eyebrow, his mouth forming a cuss word. His glasses were gone.

“Trust me, Crane.” She whispered against his ear and held his wrists together. She took her handcuffs from her belt and handcuffed him.

She leaned against the wall and tapped her foot anxiously as they strapped him into a white straightjacket. She crossed the room and helped the officer secure the last belt, thankful for any excuse to touch him and remind him that she was still there. Looking up at her, he spat and she flinched slightly. His light eyes were ringed with red swollen skin and she wondered if he really felt betrayed by her. She wiped his spit from her cheek and returned to her place by the wall.

“So this is the scarecrow,” Sgt. Gordon entered the room and let the door slam shut. Crane jumped from the noise and closed his eyes, taking a deep shaky breath.

“Scarecrow… scarecrow.” Crane whispered with his eyes closed and shifted within the straightjacket. Sgt. Gordon pulled up a chair, the metal scraping against the floor, bristling Crane into opening his eyes.

“What was the plan, Crane? How were you going to get the toxin into the air?” Gordon asked calmly and fingered the scarecrow mask. Her stomach turned watching Crane struggle to regain control over his mind. He shook and his eyes darted around the room, landing once or twice on her. She kept a straight face, giving no sign that she was terrified that something would happen to him or she would accidentally reveal something about him that they didn’t already know. When Crane didn’t respond, Gordon continued, his voice rising.

“Who were you working for?” Gordon pressed and Crane’s eyes snapped to his, a crazy smile pulling at his lips.

“Oh, it’s too late. You can’t stop it now.” He spoke through shivers, cutting up his words. He smiled at the end and Gordon shook his head. He stood and shoved the mask into her hands.

“Here. Stay with Crane.” He growled and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the heavy steel door. She looked down at the mask in her hands and hid her smile. There was only one officer left in the room with them and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to come up with a quick plan.

“Are there any officers outside?” She asked the cop by the door who peeked his head outside the door.

“No, ma’am.”

“Good,” she smiled and raised her gun when the door snapped behind him. “Then this should be easy.” She cocked the gun and cornered the officer. “Face the wall,” she ordered and when he turned, she hit him over the head with the butt of her pistol, knocking him unconscious. She quickly handcuffed him and checked outside one last time before running over to Crane. He was still recovering from the toxin, his face set in a deep frown. She began to free him from his restraints, glancing at the door every few seconds. His eyes stayed on her face and he kept muttering things below his breath. When she undid the last restraint he jumped up and it fell from around his shoulders to the floor. She started to smile when he lunged at her and pushed her up against the tiled wall. Her hair clip cracked against the tile and clattered to the floor in pieces. She gasped beneath his hands, one holding her throat and the other grabbing the slack in her sweater, exposing her navel.

“You betrayed me,” he growled, “you told Gordon... I saw you.” His eyes were wild and glazed, he looked right through her.

“What?” she gasped out though his hand was crushing her windpipe.

“I saw you two! You fucked him. You fucked him!” He yelled, his body shook with anger like he was coming down from an adrenaline high.

“No, I didn’t!” She struggled beneath his hands, “this is the toxin talking, Jonathan! I didn’t betray you-”

“But you fucked him,” his voice twisted into a heatbreaking whine, an image flicked before his eyes and he closed them quickly, shaking it from his head.

“No!” She coughed and she could feel herself getting light-headed.

“You love him,” his voice was breaking beneath him and his eyes darted between hers as the toxin showed him more and more; everything of which included her.

“Jonathan!” she screamed and hit his chest hard with closed fists, “I can’t fucking breathe!”

His eyes snapped open wider and he released his grip around her throat. Her feet landed on the ground and she coughed, sinking into a crouch against the wall. Crane stepped back and watched her silently. He was still shaking as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

“Why would I save you if I loved him?” She cried in frustration, rubbing her bruised throat. “It’s the toxin, Jonathan… I didn’t do the things you think I did,” her voice softened. She looked up at him and stood slowly, grabbing onto the wall for support. Crane cradled his head in his hands and whimpered.

“What do you see?” she asked quietly and stepped closer. He shook his head and created more distance between them. “Jonathan, tell me.” She pressed and he exhaled with a soft shutter.

“You… fuck,” he started through heavy breaths, working himself up again. “I see you and Gordon…” He rubbed his eyes and looked back up at her. “It’s been so long since…”

“Since what?” She furrowed her brow, questioning. His eyes darted away into the corner and he shook.

“Since my father last used it…” he took a deep breath and finished his sentence with a lengthy exhale, “on me.”

“The fear toxin?” She whispered, slowly starting to understand what he was suggesting. He nodded and flinched as if something had attacked him. Was he saying that his father used a prototype of the fear toxin on him? She grabbed onto the sleeve of his suit jacket and tugged his attention away.

“It’s just me. There’s no one else- nothing else in here except for me,” she gestured to the nearly empty room (the officer was still unconscious in the corner). “And I’m here for you,” she whispered and closed the distance between them, her hands slipped around his small waist beneath his suit jacket. She felt his body tense beneath her embrace before slowly (very slowly) releasing its tension. He didn’t hug her back but rested his forehead on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, and found the shallow wound on the back of his head. She ducked her head as she pulled away, finding his mouth and kissing him gently. The toxin was slowly wearing off and she could tell he was only beginning to return to his normal self.

“We need to get up to my office,” he muttered and looked at the door. “They’re releasing the patients.”

“What?” She furrowed her brow. Crane sighed and shook his head.

“Ra’s gave orders to open all of the cells. The patients will be let loose into the city.” He licked his lips and looked down at her. “We need to get upstairs.” His expression was tense as she could tell he was trying to fight the lingering effects of the toxin. She nodded.

“Show me where to go.”

He pulled her through the door and they ran down the corridor to an elevator. When the doors opened, Crane used his key to override the system, preventing anyone else from calling the elevator. He pressed the button for the floor with his office, not realizing that his other hand was squeezing tightly around hers. When the doors opened again, they rushed down the hallway and into Crane’s office. He sighed when the door was locked and the blinds closed.

“What are we going to do?” She asked him quietly and he inhaled slowly.

“I need to inject you with the antidote so the toxin doesn’t affect you when we leave the building.” He murmured, more to himself.

“We’re going out there?” She tried to keep the fear from her voice but he detected it instantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you scared?” He asked automatically.

“Of both of us dying out there at the hands of one of your old patients, yes, yes I am.” She nearly laughed.

“Don’t you want to be part of the fun?” The Jonathan Crane she knew was definitely coming back.

“I’d rather not become the ‘fun’,” she quipped and he smirked.

“As you wish.”

She followed him into his lab and he rummaged through a collection of vials arranged on one of the counters. Finding the right one, he slipped it inside a cartridge of what looked like an epipen.

“Pull down your pants,” he ordered and then it was her turn to raise her eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that and do what I tell you,” he said sternly and she did as he asked, pulling down her trousers where he had access to her thigh. “This will hurt,” he warned her before immediately plunging the needle into the fat around her thigh. She hissed in pain and heaved out a breath.

“The good news is that you don’t have to ever do this again,” he patted her leg and buttoned her pants for her. “Now me,” he changed the vial and unbuckled his pants. He raised the hem of his boxers and punctured the needle into his upper thigh. He grunted in pain and closed his eyes for a moment and whistled out a tight breath. A large explosion shook the ground below their feet. She jumped and winced as she landed on her sore leg. Without opening his eyes, Crane nodded.

“And that would be the patients leaving the building now.” He withdrew the needle and tossed it to the side, buckling his pants.

“Let me see your head,” she touched his arm and he leaned forward slightly, turning his head where she could see it clearly. She carded her fingers through his dark hair and parted the dark roots away from the shallow wound. “It's a small cut, you’ll live.”

“Thanks, doctor.” He smirked. Her fingers shifted through his hair as he straightened and she tried not to look disappointed when they were no longer twirled around his black locks.

“Are you back now?” She looked up into his eyes, looking for trances of fear.

“I think so,” he responded and traced his index finger around the collar of her sweater. There were small bruises where his fingers had been when he forced her against the wall in his state of panic. “Was I terrible?” He whispered.

“Not more than usual,” she laughed lightly and covered his hand with hers. “I’m ok.” She insisted and he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips.

He was going to apologize, he was going to tell her how much he loved her and that was why he had reacted so strongly to the toxin, but the words died on his lips so instead he said, “We should leave before the city goes all the way under.”

“They’ll raise the bridges so no one can leave, it’s too late.”

Crane chuckled and leaned against the lab table behind him, his fingers grasping around the edge. “And once again, you severely underestimate me. Come on.”

“Get on,” Crane held the bridle and gestured for her to mount the large black steed.

“You’re kidding right?” She looked around at the burning city and then back to the police horse who’d lost its rider.

“I wish I was,” he sighed and tugged her closer by her waistband, “now giddy-up, Miss —.” He joked flatley and pushed her up onto the saddle. He hoisted himself up after her and sat in front, taking the reins in his hands. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed her thighs around the horse's stomach, holding on for dear life.

“Where the hell did you learn to ride a horse?” She yelled over the panic and she felt him chuckle.

“Oh, there are a lot of things that you don’t know about me, detective.” He smirked and kicked the horse into action. She gasped and held him tighter as they flew through the violence-strewn streets. She couldn’t imagine how ridiculous they looked to the people of Gotham but under the influence of the fear toxin, she hoped people were more afraid than amused seeing a man in a full suit riding a horse. Crane focused on the route ahead, navigating them through the broken city.

“Where’s Ra’s?” She yelled into his ear.

“Forget about him.” He growled and urged the horse faster.

“Why? What happened?”

“He tricked me. He didn't just want to impose an arguably better government, he wanted to kill everyone and to kill us too. He tipped off Batman and that’s how Batman found me. He didn't need me after the toxin had been released. He kept you away from me, didn’t he?” He called over his shoulder, leaping over a crashed car.

“Yes, he told me to go to the precinct instead when I tried to warn you about the DA.”

“He wanted Batman to find me and he assumed that you’d get stuck here after you followed Gordon. Two birds with one stone. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” He growled and turned the horse onto a side-street and into an alley.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her grip tightening around Crane as she saw people screaming in the streets.

“To my father’s house.”

“How?” His father’s house? After his father had probably done something horrible to him?

“Just hold on,” he warned and flicked the reins again. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the terror in the streets. While some of it gave her pleasure to see the raw side of humanity express itself, it reminded her of what she had seen as a child- the side of people that came out when they needed to survive.

They rode to the edge of the city and Crane slowed the horse to a stop beside a tall building that looked abandoned. He hopped off of the horse and helped her down, catching her as she forced herself to slip over the saddle. The building was far enough away from the inner-city that it looked like it hadn’t been touched yet by the chaos, though the toxins had definitely reached it.

“We need to get to the roof,” he informed her calmly and pointed her to the elevator.

“Another elevator…” she whispered beneath her breath, knowing it wasn’t the right time to mention how much she hated the idea of going into one when the world around them was ending. Crane pressed the button labeled “20R,” and the elevator began to soar up. The elevator had windows that opened into the city. As the elevator climbed, they could see the destruction of Gotham and right across the bridge, normalcy.

“Ra’s is moving the micro-wave emitter by the high speed rail. If his plan goes accordingly, the emitter will poison the other side of the city beneath Wayne tower.” He pointed out the tall Wayne building from their vantage point. “I hate Gotham and I hate Batman, but I think I hate Ra’s Al Ghul more.” He sneered distastefully. “We could have run Gotham…” he sighed and shrugged, “maybe another day.”

She couldn’t help herself but laugh. Being with Crane had opened her eyes to a new side of herself, one that was dark and masochistic. She liked this side better, way better. She liked thinking that one day she could be in charge, force out all of the government officials that were too dumb or sexist to listen to her. She could lead beside Crane…

When the elevator doors opened a gust of wind met them. The doors opened onto the roof of the huge building. A helicopter stood in the center of a large bull’s eye, its blades running in circles above their heads. Crane’s hair ruffled in the wind and he squinted his eyes against it. Her mouth fell open in shock and Crane chuckled at her reaction.

“That’s the funny thing about, trust, detective. I don’t believe in it,” he smirked and beckoned her to the helicopter’s doors.

“You planned this?” She yelled as he gestured her to climb onto the landing gear.

“Of course,” he smiled, "I always have a backup plan." Her mary janes slipped across the bars as she climbed and Crane supported her back, guiding her back into the body of the machine. He pulled himself inside after her and collapsed in one of the seats. She tried to orient herself, looking around the small helicopter, landing on the pilot. The pilot nodded at Crane, he was wearing a thick mask and goggles to keep the toxin away.

“Ready doctor?” The pilot called from the front and Crane nodded breathlessly. He looked at her and clenched his jaw, returning to the version of Crane she knew so well.

“Yes.”

#cillian murphy #fanfiction #cillian fanfic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane #dc scarecrow #hot scarecrow #young cillian murphy #cillian fluff #robert fischer #batman begins #long reads #multi chap fic #cillian x fem!reader

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 22 days

Text

Yandere Coworker (part 10)

Tw: afab reader, Cyprus has some fucked up exes, mentions of violence, pretty much just some boring exposition about our resident stimky

Masterlists, Part 1 , part 11

Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "No. We are going home. These fucking animals can't control themselves today. Come on." He snatched your wrist and dragged you away from the table, the food hadn't even arrived yet and he was leaving.

"Wait, we're sorry!" One of them piped up, making you and Cyprus turn around. You saw that all the men at the table were standing up, ready to restrain him. "Look, Cy. We're just... We fucked up, we get it. We're sorry." Another one continued.

"We're just happy you found someone different, we didn't mean to scare the shit out of your girl, It's just so new and-"

You interrupted their apology by asking what they meant by someone "different". You could never get used to all seven pairs of eyes on you instantly, feeling like you almost had a heart attack with the sudden blast of attention on you.

"Sweetie, you're worlds apart from Cyprus and the women he usually chooses." Said one of the girlfriends with a coo. The three of them stared at you adoringly, smiling and leaning toward your particular direction. You wonder what they saw you as.

You looked back up to Cyprus, he seemed frozen in place. His lips were tightly pursed and his steely eyes glared at his friends.

"Sit down with us for a while, and we'll tell you what you want to know about your loverboy." Purred another one of the women. You returned your attention to them, now completely interested in this topic. Wrenching your hand away from Cyprus's loosened grip, you hastily returned to your original seat. Which prompted a cheer from the six of them, the men roaring and clapping in encouragement, while the women sang praises and giggled gleefully.

They turned their attention to Cyprus. "Come on, Cy. At least wait till your girl is fed before hitting the road."

You can see him clench his fist momentarily before marching right up to you. But he didn't take a seat, instead lifting you up by the waist and swiftly plopping you down on his lap. Cyprus protectively wrapped his muscular arms around your smaller form, letting his pecks and leather jacket engulf you.

The other patrons spared your table a glance, they didn't seem to care about the commotion Cyprus's friends were causing in the pub.

Cyprus didn't have anything to say, allowing you to freely converse with the men and women at the table, whom you still haven't learned the names of.

They watched you eagerly to open up the conversation that you wanted to have, but you were nervous. It felt like you were presenting in front of the entire world, these people will remember every blunder, every social faux pas, and every cringeworthy moment that may be birthed from your anxiousness.

You cleared your throat and shifted until you felt comfortable and cozy enough to continue. You felt his soft lips brush against your hair whenever you moved, only when you were relatively stable did Cyprus properly kiss you on the back of the head. Subconsciously, you're sinking deeper into him and shrinking yourself, his friends are as intimidating as a pack of laughing hyenas and you're a piece of fresh meat for them to tear into.

"I'm right here, baby." He whispered, squeezing you assuringly after noticing that you froze up. Somehow, that comforted you enough to relax your tensed shoulders.

The woman closest to you must have heard him, as a very audible and visceral "Aww!" left her supple lips. Cyprus whipped his head to the side and snapped at her to shut up. They laughed at his attempt to control the situation, which still confused you; making you wonder if they even saw Cyprus as a threat. Or if they were just comfortable enough to continuously disrespect him like that.

You gulped as you mustered all your courage to ask about what they meant about you being different, wanting to know in what sense. You then went on to ask if they think you're "different", as in, you're considered abnormal or an outcast of society- perhaps that statement opened old wounds from the past as you felt a strong feeling of dread and nausea wash over you.

"No, nothing like that!" One of the men exclaimed seemingly alarming the rest of the group that they might have offended you. The teasing smiles on their faces dropped and their expression morphed into that of concern and surprise. This sudden change spooked you, what did they see to make them drop their usual carefree attitude? Why did they care about your feelings this much when it's somewhat established that Cyprus is a player and cycles through his flings like laundry?

Eventually, the atmosphere calmed enough for one of the boys to clarify what they meant.

"You are nothing like his batshit crazy exes. You're nice and shy, Cy genuinely likes you too." Again, with the usage of 'shy'. You were curious enough to ask them what they meant by 'shy' and why it is used frequently when describing you.

He stammered, flabbergasted that you were asking the obvious, "You are! I don't know what else to tell you- you're just shy--" His words were cut short by another one of his buddies.

"What that dumbass is trying to say is, you're not loud. Not acting like a total bitch and nothing like Cyprus."

You took a few seconds to stew in his words. So they think Cyprus is actually unpleasant to be with?

"Yeah." One of the girls nonchalantly sipped on her beer after responding. Followed by the rest of them agreeing. Cyprus simply huffed and rolled his eyes at their admittance.

You then asked about why are they still friends with him.

They shrugged, all almost simultaneously. They giggled among each other until one of them spoke up again. "He's not that bad. Cyprus sucks sometimes, but he's a real good guy and we like him."

"He keeps us alive."

"He bailed me out of jail."

"He's the dad of our friend group."

"If it wasn't for him, our lives would be all fucked up."

"Yeah, he sets us straight."

"I owe him money."

"He owes me money."

The boys continued raving about how great a character Cyprus is.

"But his exes though... no thank you." The girls had a grimace on their beautiful faces. "They're horrible, the worst. 'EWW' personified."

It appears that the girlfriends are especially disapproving of his past women. You decided to press on, you could try and shake Cyprus's abhorrent interest in you by mimicking the behavior of these people he dated.

"Oh, honey. They're the worst. Ugh."

You asked how so.

"Where do I begin-"

"Oh my god, tell her about the girl who literally poisoned us because she didn't like how we looked at Cyprus."

"Yeah! And the girl who thought it was cute to spread some fake rumors about us infecting the whole town with some STD. I almost got fired from work because of that!"

"And, and, the girl who got into a nasty fistfight with the boys because she didn't like our jokes... It was impressive how she won, though."

"And the girl who sucker-punched me in the face and fucked up my nose." She pointed at her sniffer, which you now notice was slightly crooked.

"And the girl who sucker-punched Cyprus in the face and caused a pub brawl. You just had to be there to see the bloodbath, she actually got us banned from the last place."

"And the girl who totaled our bikes and cars because she didn't like how Cyprus had a life and friends."

"And the girl who stalked Cyprus, broke into his apartment, burnt it down, and left each of us a box containing dead, mangled rats. That was why Cyprus quit his last job and moved away- don't worry though, she's behind bars now."

"And the girl who literally stabbed Cyprus in the leg because of an argument about how he shouldn't order steak at every restaurant he goes to- I think we got banned from that pub too."

"And the girl who committed identity fraud using Cyprus's credit card, and stole a hundred dollars from my purse when I wasn't looking."

"And the girl who was just so mean to us that it managed to make Lydia cry! She kept insulting us and splashed water on Cyprus's face when he stepped in."

You now know one of the girls' names is Lydia. She's the brunette.

"And the girl who strangled Cyprus because he didn't text her back fast enough."

"And the girl who tried to kill Cyprus."

"Oh, come on, Kitty. You have to be more specific than that, I can think of ten of his exes who tried to kill him and us."

Kitty is the woman with the red highlights in her black hair.

"Don't forget, he dated someone who shits on all his life choices, made sure he knows she thinks he's ugly, is ungrateful for all that he has done for her, and dared to get all teary-eyed and pissy because Cyprus isn't chasing her enough."

"Oh my god, what about that one bitch who tried to control everything about him, down to how he speaks and blinks? She's fucking crazy! Literally, she tried everything. Blackmail, sabotage and even drugging, she even tried to frame him for a murder that he didn't commit!"

"What about that girl who stole Jewel's panties, and planted them in Cyprus's car just to try and ruin our friend group by accusing him of cheating on her? What a fucking weirdo and a dumb bitch for not checking if there were any surveillance cameras before breaking into a house."

Jewel is the woman with platinum blond hair and a pair of blue earrings.

You counted the number of different girls that they mentioned. At least 15, and they kept going. You turned your head up to look at Cyprus, he appeared bored as the girls casually recounted his most traumatic encounters with his previous girlfriends.

From what you heard, it seems like his love life is filled with hatred, yelling, fear, and struggles to attain dominance. Is that why his approach to you is so strange, forceful, and unnerving? Yet somewhat gentle?

It's undeniable you're different. It's like you're the first decent human being that he has ever dated. He tasted the deliciousness of the bare minimum and couldn't go back, he just had to go after you.

"And You? You're a fucking angel." Lydia's sudden shift of attention towards you made you jolt. "You're nothing but sweetness. Cyprus, you better hold onto her and never fucking let go."

Each member expressed their agreement and approval of your character.

You told them that they shouldn't accept you too soon. You could be one of them too, waiting to backstab everyone. For all they know, you could be a two-faced psycho and the worst instance of his exes.

The table fell silent momentarily. You held your breath as your eyes darted from person to person.

You felt your blood run cold when all of them erupted into thundering laughter, including Cyprus. You felt his entire frame shake as he found what you said hilarious.

"I told you guys, she's just so fucking cute and funny." Said Cyprus before he craned his head down to smooch you on the cheek. You squirmed in his lap as he snaked his arms tighter around your body.

"That sounds like what his exes would never ever say." Interjected one of his buddies.

You said that you're serious! How can they prove that you wouldn't turn out that way? Cyprus is a massive insanity magnet, there is a high chance that you're just some closeted murderer!

"Oh, I don't know, sweetie. Maybe it's because you're humble enough to suggest that you're not above those psychos- which you absolutely are above them. Maybe it's because we've been observing you all this time and we know you don't have an evil bone in your body. Maybe it's because we heard nothing but positives about you. Maybe it's because you're actually good for Cyprus." Listed Jewel.

"Yeah! Cy barely smokes now. You're helping him as much as he is helping you kick your phone addiction." Said one of the boys.

You insisted that you weren't addicted to your phone. They ignored you and continued talking over you, gushing over how you're angelic and kind- almost like praising a deity of some sort. With them putting you on a pedestal like that, you felt uncomfortable.

You cut in, asking them a burning question. You asked about the common denominator that all of his insane exes had.

"Funny how you're asking them and not me." Snarked Cyprus. You said that it's a somewhat unbiased, third party view of his dating life, if you had asked Cyprus directly, he may not have given an accurate answer. To that, he simply rolled his eyes at you before adjusting his glasses.

They all took a second to think about it. Until one of them said:

"They're all fast. Like, they started becoming a pair after meeting each other for a few days. Sometimes even hours."

"And his relationships were- no offence Cy, low effort? There wasn't that strong a commitment to it."

He shrugged, seemingly aware and accepting of that observation.

You said that this relationship with Cyprus started overnight with no weight.

"We have known each other for over a year." Cyprus corrected you.

"I was madly in love with you for months, and I had to spell it out, letter by letter, because you were that clueless." He lovingly pinched your cheek. You swatted his hand away.

"Do you guys know how hard it was to get her to ease up? The fact that she's a major crybaby too makes it way harder than it should be." He teasingly nuzzled his nose against the back of your neck.

"But she's my crybaby, and I will never let her go." He snickered when you writhed in his lap as he playfully poked your sides.

"You're so cute." He murmured in your ears as he tortured you with tickles. You desperately tried to escape his grasp, but he was just too strong, too fast for you to do so.

"You're definitely his last love. His endgame. And we're happy for both of you, you guys are perfect for each other and meant to be!"

Kitty raised her half empty glass of beer. "A toast to Cyprus's first relationship that wouldn't end in a disaster, and his last!"

Everyone else raised their glass except you.

You can only look on in horror as everyone on the table turns a blind eye to the distress you're facing. Among the lively chatter and gleeful guffaws, you're floating in your own puddle of misery. You're trapped, doomed to be with someone who you're not interested in if you're not doing anything to stop it soon.

Well, at least you can see the waiter coming over with the food. Even if you are facing the horrors, at least you wouldn't have to do it hungry.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader #tw afab reader #afab reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #oc cyprus #yandere coworker #yandere content

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ohtobeleah · 9 months

Text

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Eight: [The Platform]

Summary: When Jake wakes up beside you after seeking refuge in your company, he’s forced to face a nightmare he thought would only ever exist in his mind.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Monday - August 14th 2023. Present Day

According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we are dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can’t imagine it’s true.

We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves, then we bargain. We beg, we plead. We offer everything we have. We offer up our souls in exchange for just one more day.

When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we have done everything that we can.

We let go. We let go and move into acceptance. Or not.

Jake didn’t know what the time was when he woke up. He didn’t want to know if it had been two hours or twenty, all he cared about was that he could feel you next to him. He could feel the weight of your bed dip next to him from where you slept soundly, peacefully. Most of it in his warm embrace, some most likely on your side.

Jake rolled over under the sheet that kept his body from being completely exposed—usually he wouldn’t mind. He was a confident man with the women he chose to spend his nights with. Not that he had been spending nights with anyone besides you since before the mission.

Usually he wouldn’t mind, he had a pretty good body. But now that Jake's body was battered and bruised, marked and scared beyond repair, he cared. He cared about the flimsy sheet that kept him semi-covered. He didn’t recognise himself in the mirror anymore, but with you? He felt safe, secure in his new insecurities.

“Hollywood—“ Jake mumbled as he drew you closer. “You awake?” He mumbled into your hair, taking the moment to inhale the sweet smell of your shampoo. Bergamot and notes of vanilla. When you didn’t stir Jake kissed your shoulder. “Y/n? You awake?” Jake tried again but was still met with nothing. “Hollywood?”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Jake's stomach he wasn’t a fan of when you didn’t stir, when you didn’t acknowledge him like you normally would. He took a second to realise just how cold you were to the touch. How still you were in his warm embrace.

How there was no rise and fall from the breathing pattern Jake had become so accustomed to these past few weeks, from all the nights you’d spent in each other's arms fighting off each other’s demons. Protecting one another from the darkest corners of the world.

It wasn’t all that uncommon for Jake to wake up for you having an all out attack. Your Asthma was something of an enigma to the doctors and nurses that had taken care of you. Some believed it was all psychological, others believed it was a combination of your deteriorating health and the conditions you were kept in.

Regardless—it scared the hell out of Jake whenever he woke up and you couldn’t breathe. But they were always loud and terrifying attacks. They were never silent.

“Hey, Y/n?” Jake shook you a little to see if you’d react, but when all your body did was fall limp against him? Jake sprung up as fast as he could to find his phone. “No no no no no no—!”

Once upon a time, happily ever after. The stories we tell are all just the stuff of dreams. Fairy tales don’t come true. Reality is much stormier. Much murkier. More scarier.

“Y/n! Stay with me alright.” Jake begged as his hands shook, dialing for an ambulance as he turned back to look at you lying lifeless in your own bed, the safest place on earth. “Please don’t leave me now.” He begged, waiting for the operator to pick up. “Where the fuck is it?” He was looking for your inhaler, the red one with the warning labels on it. It was usually on your bedside table. You kept a blue one in your car and a green one in your bag. You always had one. Yet the one beside your bed was gone?

“Hello, nine one one?” Reality, it’s so much more interesting than living happily ever after. Jake spotted the little red inhaler under your bed, the top was only just visible. Then it hit him. What if it had fallen off last night? When the bed was shaking and you were on top? The only place you deserved to be. In control and facing your fears.

“I need an ambulance!” Jake cried. “I can’t save her.” He sobbed, it was his nightmare, the one that brought him to your front porch in the middle of the night more often than not. The one where you were taken away from him. “Please—please she needs an ambulance!” It rivaled the one where he was forced to hurt you.

Jake gave all the information the operator on the other end of the line needed before he was back by your side. He was careful in his movements as you lifted your limp and lifeless body up off your bed and onto the ground. Kneeling beside you, Jake kept the operator on the phone while he started CPR. This he knew how to do.

“Come on baby, don’t get off the train, stay with me.” It wasn’t the first time Jake had given CPR, but it was the first time he’d given it to someone he loved. “Please stay with me.” It was a rhythm no one wanted to fall into, that lifesaving rhythm while rib’s threatened to crack under the pressure. “Don’t you dare leave me here, not now.” One two three four and so on and so forth, Jake kept pressing the palms of his hands into your chest. “Not ever, you hear me? You don’t get to just leave me here.”

You couldn’t die, not now. How on earth was this how you died? Why did you go through so much trauma, so much pain, so much suffering just to die silently in your sleep in your bed next to the man you wanted nothing more to love till the end of time.

“No no no no, come on baby, come on!” Jake wasn’t about to give up on you. You’d been through too much. “Come on stay with me, just a little longer, yeah?” He wanted you to say okay. That you’d stay just a little while longer. But as Jake's cries for help echoed through your home he knew that you weren’t coming back. “HELP ME! SOMEONE!”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss, sharp sorrow, painful regret. As aviators, you’re taught to learn from and rely on the books, the tests, the science behind it all, the definitions, the definitives.

But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow.

Bradley Bradshaw had known Jake Seresin for almost his entire Naval career. The two had been at odds for most of that time, both too proud to admit their own flaws. They had both been the reason behind each other's callsigns, in heated arguments at whatever bar they found themselves in or after training sessions gone wrong.

Hangman was the stuff of every aviator's nightmares. A cautionary tale that told whoever was paired up with Jake Seresin, that they would get left behind. But Jake had proven time and time again that when it really came down to it, when it really mattered, when it was life or death and nothing in between—he wouldn’t leave his wingman behind, or his weapon’s system officer for that matter.

And as Bradley watched Jake crumble into the chest of the doctor who’d just told him you weren’t coming back, he knew that Hangman was dead too. He’d been dead since he was shot down.

“The asthma was new, from our best guess we’d say it was a direct result of the environment you were both held in.” The doctor had explained, he was the one who treated you initially. “She had a lot of build up in her lungs, dirt, dust, it caused an infection we thought we had combat, but it looks as if it came back stronger then the first time and she didn’t say anything to indicate otherwise.” The one who bandaged you up and put you back together enough so that your inner demons couldn’t wreak havoc on the world. “I’m sorry Lieutenant, Hollywood was a good woman.” It meant nothing to Jake—he’d stopped listening after the initial ‘Im sorry’ had come out of Doctor Stevens' mouth. There was nothing else to do but process the fact you’d left him behind.

And it felt like you’d done it on purpose too. Because you would have told him something was wrong if you were sick, but you hadn’t said a word.

“Hangman–” Bradley cooed from where he stood by the door of one of the empty patient rooms Jake had found himself in. He was lost, lost in a world without you. Left behind to navigate through his own trauma. “Why don't I take you home?” For Jake it had been only a few minutes since he was officially told you were dead–the last thing he ever expected to hear after everything you had survived. He thought you were invincible, his wonderwoman of unbreakable strength and determination. But in reality, where happily ever afters didn’t exist, it had been three whole hours. “Jake? I'll take you anywhere you wanna go man, but you can't stay here.”

“I saw her tortured Rooster.” It was the first thing Jake had said since he’d been told that you weren’t coming back to him. “I saw her have her bones broken and her body used against her.” Jake's voice was far too calm for Bradley’s liking, he needed Jake to shout, to be angry, to grieve. “She fought so hard to stay alive.” Ah. There it was, the tone Rooster was looking for as he stood across the empty space, watching as Jake stood to his feet. Hands balls at his sides.

“She did whatever she had to do to stay alive and she did whatever she had to do to keep me alive!” Jake seethed through gritted teeth as he took a few heavy steps towards Rooster. Bradley didn’t dare move. “And believe me Bradshaw I wanted to die, I wanted them to kill me just so I didn’t have to live with the guilt of knowing that everything she went through, everything she felt, everything they did to her was a direct result of my actions!” Jake explained as he blamed himself even more for everything that happened. “She begged me to kill her because she knew what they would do to her and I couldn’t, I was selfish because I didn’t want to live in a world without her and guess what they did!?” Jake growled as he punched the wall beside him, his fist went straight through the drywall. “They did exactly what she knew they would do, one by one, day after day.”

“Jake—“ Bradley tried to intervene but all Jake did was turn around and swipe his arms across the medical cart, throwing everything that had been splayed across the top to the floor in a fit of rage.

“And after everything! After we survived! SHE GOES AND DIES FROM AN ASTHMA ATTACK IN HER SLEEP!? RIGHT THERE IN MY ARMS!?” Rooster knew what it was like to lose a loved one, he’d already lost far too many, but he didn’t know what it was like to lose the love of your life.

“Jake—“ Bradley tried again but it was to no avail. Jake was unraveling at his very thin seams. “They couldn’t have predicted it.”

“IT'S THEIR JOB TO PREDICT IT!” Jake shouted as loud as he could, so loud he was red in the face as tears streamed down his cheeks. “JUST LIKE IT WAS MY JOB TO PREVENT THIS FROM EVER HAPPENING.” He shook his head in disbelief all the while he looked up to whatever god was on deck that day. “Just like it was my job to keep her safe.”

“None of this is your fault.” Bradley tried to reason with the shattered man who stood before him. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened man—it was an asthma attack.”

“I was going after you.” Jake finally admitted what he’d been doing when the pair of you were struck. You knew, you were Jake's first, only and last weapons system officer. You knew what he was doing before he’d even gone ahead and executed his plan. That decision caused your pain, your torment, your death.

“What are you doing man.” Bradley sighed at the words his wingman spoke. He’d never seen Jake so distraught before. “Hollywood wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

“It should have been you—That SAM was yours, Rooster.” Jake hissed through gritted teeth as he stood toe to toe with Bradley. “And because you’re so full of chicken shit, I took the hit for you.” It didn’t take long for Jake to correct what he’d said as he pressed his finger into Roosters chest. “We, took the hit for you and now she’s dead.”

Jake hadn’t yet passed his psych eval, he hadn’t yet returned to work because he still took medication for his heart. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to, but without you? There was no way in hell he was going back. He couldn’t breathe without you, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. How was he supposed to ever fly again? Without his one and only WSO.

“And now more than anything—“ Jake couldn’t drown out your screams, he couldn’t stop his brain from hearing your gut wrenching shrills of pain. He couldn’t turn it off—the guilt, the fear, the anger. But he was still here, and you were gone. Standing on the platform watching him go by at two hundred miles an hour. Begging him to get off the train and join you.

Because the farm was just perfect, and nothing hurt anymore.

In aviation training, there are a hundred different classes that teach you how to fight off death. But in those hundreds of classes there is not a single one that teaches you how to go on living.

Oh what Jake Seresin would give to get off the train with you.

“I wish I was too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

#bruises // jake seresin #Jake Seresin Whump #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin angst #jake seresin top gun

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yanderes-galore · 2 months

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I have brainrot and must get out another HOTD fic. NOT PROOFREAD, I WAS COOKING WITH THIS. THIS IS AN ADULT AEGON II FIC, WHICH MEANS IT MENTIONS PLOT POINTS FROM THE BOOKS.

Spoilers For HOTD and Fire & Blood

A short story based on this idea I had.

Baptism By Fire

Yandere! Aegon II Targaryen Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Mentions of intimacy, General Mature Content Warning (This is HOTD/F&B so-) Obsession, Murder, Violence, Possessive behavior, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Adultery, Consensual turned Forced relationship.

Aegon never liked his older half-sister. In his eyes Rhaenyra was a usurper to the throne. In his younger years he never liked the thought of being king... but now, as an older man, he has grown into such a role.

Since he was a young boy, Aegon had always had his fill of pleasures. However, he did have one true love... which was surprisingly not his wife, Helaena. A maid that served his elder half-sister, you....

You were Rhaenyra's personal handmaid. You were around his age, a maid who came from a family of servants. Originally you were just another target of his unusually insatiable libido.

However, Aegon felt he could cast aside his responsibilities with you. In you he found companionship he wasn't expecting. It wasn't just when he had you in his chambers... it was whenever you were around.

Your "relationship" was kept secret from both his mother and elder-sister. He had a feeling they'd both hate him if he admitted to growing fond of you. As a result of your nights together Aegon always had Moon Tea prepared to hide the "evidence".

Aegon always felt you reciprocated his advances. Up until he was married he saw you as at least a friend, if not lover. However, all good things must come to an end.

Reluctantly he was forced onto the throne as the event known as the Dance of The Dragons began to culminate. Ever loyal to Rhaenyra, you stayed her handmaid. An action Aegon found resentment towards....

Aegon had Helaena to give him heirs, but he didn't particularly enjoy it. Aegon always found himself lusting over other women instead. Oddly his choices often resembled you.

As king during the Targaryen Civil War, it was expected he'd go through many hardships. Even with his golden mount, Sunfyre, by his side... The Blacks still proved to be formidable opponents. He still hated the idea of you being loyal to them... even after everything you shared together.

Aegon's thoughts about you never left his mind. Helaena was not blind to the infatuation in Aegon's eyes. The king, even as a fully fledged adult now, still thought of you. Fate had been cruel... and kept getting crueler.

Aegon wondered if he'd even see you again. Throughout his time as king he had witnessed, assassinations, and the death of his children. He suffers all while you tend to Rhaenyra and Daemon.

He finds himself yearning for you.

His hate for The Blacks grows when he fights Rhaenys. Upon dragon back he was struck down, Sunfyre unable to win against Rhaenys' mount, Meleys. As a result he was left burned and twisted.

By the time the king reunites with you, his face and body are marred. He feels mixed feelings when he sees you stand beside Rhaenyra during the attack on Dragonstone. Even more so when he sees you with Rhaenyra's son behind you.

Aegon feels no remorse when he orders guards to pull you and Rhaenyra's son away. He doesn't give a damn when he orders Sunfyre to sear and consume the false queen. That woman has taken enough from him.

Her death brings a grin to his face.

You're all his.

While many suggested he kill Aegon The Younger, the king turns down such suggestions. The boy, and you, already seemed traumatized enough. Instead he takes the boy prisoner.

Which makes you his new handmaid.

You didn't dare look at him after that. You looked so broken after seeing the death of Rhaenyra, your queen. The Dance of Dragons was not quite done, as resistance still brewed within Black supporters.

However, Aegon could care less currently.

He spared the boy partially for you. He may look different now... but his infatuation for you never left. You stare at his burned and scarred face in fear.

Despite such fear he finds himself embracing you. He struggled to walk and is nowhere close to how he was when he was younger. Even just in his 20's he looks like he's seen hell.

You don't move in his grip. He merely holds you tighter against him. He has waited a long time to have you again.

You still look just as beautiful as the last time he's seen you, a young woman in your 20's who hasn't been through war.

He still wishes to kiss you and share that much affection and intimacy with you. Yet, he settles with easing you into it with a kiss on your forehead. He even tries to cultivate the old feelings you had with advances... even allowing you to visit Aegon the Younger.

Your relationship may not be like it was before... it may never be...

But Aegon is determined.

He has you all to himself now... in his eyes he's won....

The war isn't over, many still support the prince he keeps prisoner. But for now he'd like to ignore all the warfare. He's tired of the fighting...

All he needs is you now...

With you in his arms... he'll take on whatever they throw at him.

He doesn't care if he dies now... as long as he has you by his side during it.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere a song of ice and fire #yandere fire and blood #yandere westeros #yandere aegon II targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 10 months

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Supernova

A/N: *sigh* here we are again simping over a man I shouldn't be. Oh well.

Summary: Imprisoned in deep space, Ettore discovers an old flame still burns as bright. And hurts just as much. NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings under the cut~ | Word Count: 5.4k~ | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of sexual related crimes, cursing, choking, Ettore being a simp, masturbation, oral (m receiving), rough sex, biting, face slapping, hair pulling, fingering, pussy slapping, mouth fuccin, swallowing

Of all the fucking people to see on this ship.

He’d have picked anyone else, to be honest. Any other rat-faced, intemperate bitch to spend the rest of his miserable young life with. To wait out his days ‘til, eventually, they’d all die. He could deal with the other female prisoners, it’s not like all of the women on the ship were that bad to look at. Just most of them. Crime had done a number on them after all those years, many of them sullen in the face, violence brimming beneath their expressions.

But he’d take them all on, every single day of his life, instead of her.

His fucking ex-girlfriend.

A brief relationship. Yes. But it frustrated him all the same.

It had been years since then at least, so the sheer bitterness of seeing her again wasn’t so fresh. She’d looked his way once in passing in the canteen, but had not lingered. Perhaps she didn’t even recognise him.

But he’d recognise her anywhere.

Ettore. Who now wouldn't be seen dead in a relationship, having done the terrible things that landed him here.

Ettore. Who had a questionable past with women.

She’d changed. Matured somewhat. Before, she was smaller, slimmer, not a woman you would usually associate with such violence. But what she lacked in stature she made up for in temper, even back then she was a loaded gun with the safety off, threatening to shoot her rage in any direction she seemed necessary.

And for whatever reason at the time, when he was younger, a bit more stupid he supposed, blinded by her striking nature, they’d gotten into a relationship, though never defined. One that was equally destructive to each of them.

He’d always been in and out of the police station. He wasn’t smart, so he didn’t easily evade capture. But she did. She always got off light, using her sex to her advantage. It was much easier when a barely twenty year old girl could easily go from violent offender to playing the victim with a simple expression change. She did it too well.

But now, clearly, she’d done something even she couldn’t escape from.

How many years had it really been? He couldn’t really even remember. They'd all blurred together.

All he cared to remember of their relationship was that it was toxic, on both parts. Never in terms of outright violence, it wasn’t like that, but they hurt each other with their words, with their actions and attitudes. Where he was cold and not willing to back down and admit his wrongdoings, she was sharp, quick-witted, but her insults hurt him the most.

But it was exciting. God it was so fucking exciting to be with her.

As wrong as it was, the only manner in which either of them knew how to get the anger to simmer down, was to fuck. It’s possibly the healthiest sexual relationship he’s had with a woman, and that’s saying something. He doesn’t dwell on that fact too much.

Whenever they had a fight, which was extremely regular, they would expel it with hate sex. It was rough, aggressive, borderline violent. And they would say as much to each other, before submitting their bodies, tangled against each other like strangling.

Now, looking at her. Her maturity astonished him. She, in principle, hadn’t changed, but there was something about her that he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t tell how he felt that she didn’t recognise him. Most of the prisoners were indifferent to each other, barely talking even in close situations, so that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he felt the simmer of that nostalgic anger again when he saw her.

Since realising it was her, his use of the Box had increased dramatically. Using his imagination was horrendous. She was right there. He could have the real thing if he wanted. And yet he found himself, stroking his cock vigorously to the memories of their chaotic fucking. Remembering the way her breath used to feel against his skin, holding back her sounds from being too loud, the way her tits pressed against his chest, the way the flesh of her thighs felt in his palm as he raised them to rut into her deeper. Her skin. Voice. Taste. He wanted to sink his teeth into her, and lick at the blood that pooled to the surface; would she taste as sweet as she used to? For some reason, he thought she would taste better now.

Fucking his hand to the thought of her wasn’t enough, he needed to feel her pussy choke him for all he was worth. Needed to stuff himself inside her until she winced as he reached the end of her. He would pull her back by her hips, digging his fingers in as far as they would go, and watch as he disappeared inside her, each thrust punctuated by her sweet moans.

Each day that went by, her ignorance of him was growing too much. Those dark feelings he’d buried since they broke up and he went down his own path of crime were now bubbling to the surface, angry at having been suppressed for so long.

Now that he had seen her. She was everywhere.

He nearly cracked when he saw her walk the short route from the showers to her cell, her hair all wet and already dressed in her sleepwear, which left little to the imagination. It was the closest he'd come to seeing her body in years.

He wasn't shy about admitting it to himself what he thought in that moment.

Thought about grabbing her, pinning her down. He'd use restraints if he had to. Ripping those shorts off and just taking her right there, not caring if she was ready or not. Just a pure animalistic desire put entirely being fucking himself into her.

He didn't.

But the reins on his control were slipping.

He watched across the canteen as she went to put her tray back, eyes floating over her form. The red scrubs they all wore were shapeless, but his eyes were boring holes in it, wondering if she still looked the same, if her tits would still fill his palm as effortlessly as they used to.

Another male prisoner was talking to her, in a clear, over-zealous manner, with a stupid grin on his face. He was talking excitedly, shooting his shot. And Ettore stared darkly, eyes flitting between them and gauging her reaction.

Something akin to excitement and pride bolted through him when she turned away, rolling her eyes.

God she still does that. Fucking brat.

He watched as she walked away, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips, the slope of her neck. There’s a heat burning in his belly, one he recognises as desire. He feels his cock impossibly hard at the prospect of having her again.

It’s beyond dark in the hallways by the time he’s finished in the Box. He fans his shirt against his chest as he leaves, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the corridor, barely even seeing someone is waiting for him to be done, leaning against the wall.

His whole body goes warm when his eyes land on her, waiting there with ankles crossed, tapping her foot against the linoleum floor. But when the door opened, she looked up at him, having to bite her cheek to suppress her grin.

The little bitch had known it was him the entire time.

And had chosen to ignore him.

He stood, as amused as she was, and she didn’t move an inch as he stalked towards her, except when she brushed her hair out her face to look at him better. Their eyes bore into each other as he leaned his arm next to her, against the wall, right next to her head. Though she was a head shorter than him, she looked at him as if she held all the cards.

“Ettore” she greeted, her tone rising at the end.

Fuck. Her voice.

He tried hard not to grin. He thought she was being a little temptress and knew entirely what she was doing, pressing all his buttons she knew existed. Poking and prodding at the darkness that lingered under his skin, threatening to burst free in goosebumps.

She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t respond, “I'd say it's nice to see you but…”

“Hm” he responded low in his chest. She was so close. He could just reach out and touch her, she was real. “Considering how things ended”

It was her turn to hum, something dark behind her eyes, “We were younger. Stupid. Especially you” she teased, “We just weren’t right for each other”

Fuck. You. Ettore thought.

“Maybe you’re right…” he hummed, “...we were a bad combination. But you have to admit…we had something. Didn't we"

She smirked, seeing an open window, “Is that what you think about? When you’re in there” she cocked her head towards the Box, “Do you think about me?”

You know I fucking do.

Ettore’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of silent rage. She stood there watching him vibrate with need, practically able to feel the thumping of his heart, able to hear how his blood sloshed around inside him, humming with a deep, dark desire.

“Do you still think about our fights?” she asked, her voice provoking, “how they always ended?” she was speaking in a whisper now, and Ettore’s hand formed a fist, his body yearning to touch her. And how she just stood there, knowing entirely what she was doing to him, with that bratty fucking smirk on her face. He wanted to wipe it off, show her who he was now.

“Savour that memory. Because it’s not happening again” she smiled, slipping from the wall towards the Box.

He saw red, and grabbed her arm tightly, pulling her back with force. Don't you know what I've done, stupid bitch. Her amused expression never falters.

"Nobody says no to me"

“Now, now, play nice” she taunts, “If you do, I will too”

“Who said I want you nice” he asked with a hard expression, “I’m not looking for nice”

Her damned smile is driving him crazy. And he’s surprised, when he shouldn’t be, when he grabs her face but she doesn’t move an inch. His fingers press against her jaw tightly, surely hurting her. Her eyes look over his face, beguiling him, perhaps taking in how much about him had changed.

“I always did bring out the worst in you, didn’t I”

Ettore grinned darkly, “You know how I like it”

Their faces are so close, they can feel one another’s hot breaths, lips yearning to collide like two stars, to only self-destruct into supernova. From here, he can see how his fingers are making red indents in her skin, the way her chest moves from her breathing and how her pupils dilate at the forceful nature of their attraction. He wonders if underneath this hard, bratty exterior, if she is soaking wet for him, pathetic little bitch.

“Christ, you still drive me fucking crazy”

She grins at that, as if she’s won. He hates that self-righteous look on her face. And being so close to him, practically touching, she can feel his manhood throbbing through the thin material of his scrubs, desperately seeking fulfilment.

“What do you say we find somewhere, recreate some of those old memories”

She hums, pulling her face forcibly from him, “Dream on” she shrugs, “Use your imagination”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

He would be offended, angry even. If he didn’t know her. And knew that this was her nature.

She makes a point of standing in the doorway of the Box, forearms leaning against the frame. Provoking him.

He gives her a cold, hard look, “What if I don’t want to? What if I want the real thing?”

“There’s plenty of women here. Maybe you could pretend it’s me” she winks, making his heart freeze in his chest for a moment, “Goodnight, Ettore”

Fucking tease.

The Box door shuts and he has to ground himself, digging his nails into his palm, thinking about what she’s doing to herself behind that door. What pretty sounds she would make, when his cock forced its way into her again.

When he laid in bed, trying to ignore the stark blue light of the ship and the incessant hum. That wasn't keeping him awake.

What would she do, if he just walked into her cell, began to touch her sleeping form, running his hand over her soft skin. Was she a deep sleeper still, as she used to be? Would his hand on her flesh wake her up?

He imagined kissing and biting her neck, marking her as his own, as she was always meant to be. And if she did wake up soon enough, she'd find him pulling off her underwear, teasing his hot and angry tip against her slit.

It'd be easy to take it by force. He could. If he wanted to.

She was different to the other women, the ones he'd had after her. The ones who met their end.

They were all stupid, wanting a love from him that they could never get in a million years. Wanted more than he could offer. Something they paid for with their lives.

She never expected his love. She saw the darkness in his eyes and wanted to see more of it, to see what abyss it led to in his soul. She had seen that side of him and nurtured it, fed it. Let him take his anger out on her body, and revelled in it, with that look she always gave him, when she knew he wanted it.

She'd given that look today, seeing that darkness lingering in him. Perhaps she wondered if she could fan those flames and see how brightly he'd burn, no matter the cost to them both.

He thought about back then. How he used to start fights, just so he got to fuck her the way they both liked.

It made him hard thinking about it.

He wanted her to want it. Something he'd never admit. Deep down, perhaps he'd known she wanted it too.

It was that odd familiar feeling. Like a spark is igniting his insides when he sees her actively talking to the other guys on the ship. Namely Monte. Tall and broad. Prick.

There is jealousy, sure. But also that raw unbridled lust that used to drive him. Drive them. Maybe she hasn't changed as much as he thought.

He wonders. Could he still make her burn like she used to? Could he still feel the heat himself, and let himself be marred by it?

He'd been so cold for so long.

He wanted to feel alive again.

It frustrated him to no end, now that she knew how much he wanted her again, how much her attitude had flipped. Entertaining the flirting of other guys. She’d taken to wearing tank tops, deliberately not wearing anything underneath, and wearing her scrub bottoms low on her waist, sometimes so low he swore he could see the dimples at the base of her spine, where he used to rest his thumbs to tug her body to his.

Any guy that flirts, or so much as passes a glance in her direction, however overzealous, she welcomes with a wicked grin and flirts back, just to irk him. Whenever her eyes met his, they glinted with pride at getting the reaction she’d wanted.

He felt almost feverish, every nerve and vein in his body felt piping hot. Blood rushed to his cock with astonishing speed whenever she so much as breathed in the same room as him. And the flirting? His fists were tight, white-knuckled, seeing that smug look on her face.

They don’t understand you like I do. Nobody will know your body like I do.

She turns away from Monte, who has a stupid fucking smile again, as if he ever has a chance. And her eyes meet Ettore’s over her shoulder.

Their eyes lock. As if she is saying what are you going to do about it.

A challenge.

Break. Come to me. Show me how much you want me.

He couldn’t wait. Tonight she’d scream.

Staying awake at night, he knew all her movements. She always gets up in the middle of the night, with such quiet, delicate footsteps and goes to refill her water bottle.

It was the only window of opportunity he found, to be alone with her.

Careful not to wake his cellmates, he crosses the threshold out to the corridor, the blue light straining his eyes. But just barely enough to see her disappear around the corner. He felt the chill of the air conditioning on his bare chest, skin prickling up, but it was overcome with the heat that ran through his blood. He was sure that his own cells inside him were vibrating, aching to collide with hers.

He grinned, darkly with all his teeth, when he saw the back of her. If she had heard him approach she didn’t show it. And he thought she was perfect for being taken right then, just how she was. In her sleepwear, a top that hung too big on her, with a pair of shorts on her bottom half, her hair tied in a loose bun, messy from writhing around in bed.

When he heard the water stop, he pushed forward, grabbing her bun and shoved her so hard into the wall he was sure she hit her face against it. It’s pitiful how he groaned low in his chest, the way his erection pressed against her soft ass, how flush his chest was to her back, standing tall over her as if he might kill her.

She gasped and winced slightly at the tight hold he had on her hair, her water bottle forgotten and water spilled to the floor. She hummed a laugh as he twisted her arm behind her back,

“This is pathetic, even for you”

“Shut the fuck up” he whispered, breath hot against the shell of her ear. A pleasant shiver ran through her, “can’t stand you prancing around, acting like a fucking slut with them”

He forgot how strong she was, for someone her size, as she yanks her hands away from him, elbowing him in the chest, making him grunt, annoyed.

“Fucking-” he grabs her again, shoving her back hard against the wall, curling his hand around her slender neck and squeezing slightly, pulling her up to look at him. He can tell just how hard she is trying not to smile, and it only makes his simmering anger build.

He can feel how tight his chest gets when he looks at her, feeling primal at the way his lungs inflate and deflate, “You know you want it, like you did back then” he growls.

She scoffs, “Back then?” she says with a bemused raise of her eyebrows, “...that was then”

“And it can be now too”

It’s like those nights back then, when he’d just become consumed in the smell of sex, just to satiate his hunger for her.

“I don’t think so” she smirks, choking in some air when his thumb presses slightly into her windpipe, choking tighter. He can feel her tits press against his chest as she breathes, the colour coming to her cheeks the harder he pushes on her neck.

“You think anyone could fuck you like I do?”

“I think Monte could” she grins.

He scoffs, pressing himself into her impossibly harder, allowing her to feel his hardness grazing against her clothed cunt.

“You want me to fight for you, don’t you, you little bitch”

Her own hands join his at her neck, fingers trying to dig under his. He can feel her heartbeat through her veins and he allows himself to wonder what she’d feel like inside. He’s never felt more torn, more in control but not at the same time.

“I’ve changed a lot since you last saw me. Done horrible things” she says,

“I don’t give a fuck about that”

I just want to remember how good I made you feel. How good you made me feel. To give you what you want.

She smiles softly, “It was always like this, wasn't it…us hurting each other” her eyes seem to study his face, and though almost imperceptible, his grip loosens somewhat, “I think it turns you on” she whispers, “does it excite you?”

The air seems thin in his chest at what she said. They were both awful people, there was no doubt about it. But that was what drew him in, and what continued to make him come back to her.

That she never judged him for those things, because she was just as bad.

“I think you want to hurt me” she smirks, “you’re pathetic”

Something clicks inside, Ettore crashes his lips against her, knocking his teeth against hers and kissing her belligerently, and though it’s rough and chaotic, she sighs contently into his mouth. It’s a mess of tongues and teeth, the way they kiss reflective of what is going on inside them. And the more he feels her hot breath and lips against his, the more his blood sings with desire, all flooding below his waist, pressing his erection against her stomach.

He pressed his thigh between hers, nudging them apart, one hand dipping beneath the hem of her shirt to feel her hot skin, trailing up and taking her shirt with it when he palms at her breast. He swallows her quiet moan as he kneads the flesh beneath his hand, his lips trailing from hers and dragging his nose across her cheek, taking this moment to breathe in her individual scent. He mouths at her neck, biting softly at first, but becoming more rough as he feels her jolt when his teeth sink into her skin, his tongue running across the bruised skin, groaning when he tastes the slightest bit of coppery blood.

“Stop that” she all but breathes, shoving her shoulder against him in reprimand.

He squeezes her breast hard at that, pushing her so much against the wall as if he is trying to mould her to it.

“You’re mine”

She even has the gall to laugh at him for saying that, despite the position they’re in.

With fire in his veins, pressing his bare chest against her, he bunches her tank top in his fists and tugs, the fabric surrendering beneath the harshness of his fingers, revealing her tits to him finally. His hips rut into hers, pushing her up the wall, one hand clutching her ass in his hand to keep her there as he mouths her other breast, running his tongue over the rosy bud.

Her head tilts back, landing on the wall with a thud as his wet muscle pleasures one nipple, nipping every now and then on the sensitive skin, and the other being moulded in his calloused palms. It feels better than before. Though even now, they’re considered young, they’d seen the glimmer of themselves before all this. And now, hurtling through space, he’s found her again, and this time there’s no letting her go.

Soft moans slip from her mouth, running her fingers through his hair and tugging hard, it makes him moan out as well, the vibration coursing through him into her chest.

His hand slips from her breast, trailing down her front, over her stomach to the hem of her underwear, not even wasting time and dipping beneath. Long, thick fingers glide over her slick mound, down to her entrance, where he shoves them inside her as far as they will go. He feels her body go rigid for a moment, a shocked gasp falling from her mouth, before they turn swiftly into whimpers and moans as he fucks her with his fingers.

She’s so wet, it’s easy. And he feels just how tight she is, every single ridge, just the feeling of her hot insides makes him want to bury himself inside of her as much as he can, as often as he deems fit. After a few moments, he finds that rough spot inside, using his fingers to rub hard against it. Her back arches against the wall, pressing her tits against his chest, the hardened buds rubbing almost painfully sensitive against his skin, her hands squeeze his shoulders and he groans at the sensation of her nails digging in.

“Say you want it” he whispers low against her ear.

He knows she does. He feels how wet she is for him, her sounds.

Her eyes crack open, her lips part in pleasured pants, curling up into a hedonistic smile, “No”

His mouth forms a frown. But she knows better.

He pulls his fingers out of her, giving a hard wet slap to her that makes her jolt and her clit throb, then going to tug her underwear down her legs. She kicks at him, writhing in his hold, her small fists trying to push him back.

“I said no”

“Yeah, yeah” Her face whips to one side and she whimpers as her cheek blooms with pain from his palm, “shut the fuck up”

Despite the hot pain on her face, she feels her insides flutter, clenching around nothing as she looks back at him, to see the hard expression he gives as she shoves his shorts past his hips. Her eyes land on his cock, all hard with the angry red tip weeping precum desperately.

“There he is” she smirks.

He props her up against the wall and shoves himself harshly inside her, barely giving her time to adjust to his size and length, until he hits her spongey end. Her chest erupts in a pink flushed colour, air expelled from her lungs.

He trembles slightly as he bottoms out inside her, completely filling her with himself and feeling her walls quiver uncontrollably around him. Squeezing the flesh of her thighs, he thrusts mercilessly into her, seeking the ultimate fulfilment he feels only her body can offer.

Ettore makes few sounds other than his hurried breaths and grunts into her ear, pushing himself so close to her that the only movement is his hips slapping against her thighs and the wet smack of their moist skin meeting each other. He grabs her face, digging into the skin where he’d hit her and keeps her quiet with his lips on hers, moving his tongue against hers. She hears his low sounds in his throat, deep and primal.

They fuck like they’re fighting, as they always had done. Fingers leaving red welts where he’d gripped her too hard, the mark on her cheek reddening, even the lewd sound of her pussy accepting him, it was all angry and aggressive.

She tightens her grip on the hair at his nape, chasing that pressure that was starting to build in her gut. She can feel him grin against her neck, he must be able to feel it too, the way her cunt trembles around him, the way her eyebrows furrow together and her lips caught between her teeth.

“You gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck you” she breathes, her voice strained by desire.

She never wanted to admit the things he did to her, sexual or not, made her feel excited and dangerous all at the same time. He huffs air as he laughs against her, feeling a sheen of sweat begin to cover his back as the effort of fucking her.

“You asked for it” his thumb pushes past her teeth, collecting her saliva on his thumb before dragging it down her body between them, rubbing in fast, furious circles on her overly-sensitive bud. It makes her strain her neck as she throws her head back, a barely-contained moan escaping.

“Just give up”

There’s little resolve left in her, the way his thick cock bullies that spot inside, pushing against her walls at the top in this position. The sheer lewdness of the situation had her nearly forget where they were, just fucking in a random hallway, and it sends a bolt of excitement down her spine at the thought of getting caught.

He watches how he disappears inside her, a ring of her arousal white at the base of him, how wet she sounds with each slap of skin. Hastening the circles on her clit, she grips him at his nape tight as he buries his face against her shoulder, her entire being shuddering as her orgasm blazes a burning trail through every limb, every cell, igniting her in a way only he ever could.

“Fuck-”

It’s the only sound he’s capable of making as an all-body shudder rolls through him. The way she clenches around him, holding him tightly.

He quickly pulls out of her, briefly feeling disappointed at the loss of her tightness, fisting his cock to completion. That is until she falls to her knees in front of him, looking up at him through her eyelashes, watching the way his chest heaves from this angle.

Cock slick with her arousal, watching the way he fists it quickly, she feels that familiar tug of arousal below her belly button.

His fingers thread through her hair, tugging at the crown to pull her face towards him. Holding himself at the base, he drags the tip over her lips, leaving a glistening path of both his and her arousal behind that she quickly collects with her tongue. Her lips chase his length before enveloping the tip in her mouth, running her tongue over the already sensitive slit.

A long, exasperated sound between a breath and a moan rushes out of him, having to lay his hand flat against the wall as she begins to bob her head on him, accepting his cock into her mouth with a renewed vigour, watching how he reacts.

Gripping her hair tight, she hums around him, sending a pleasant roll of warmth up his spine, and he tugs her head towards him, using her face for leverage to fuck himself into her mouth. He feels himself hit the back of her throat, and how her mouth contracts as she gags softly, trying to relax her jaw.

She closes her eyes as he sets his pace, hands resting on his thighs only slightly as she feels his hips press against her face. His cock bullies the back of her throat with a lewd wet sound, and it’s so intense, that she can feel her eyes watering, her slick gathering between her thighs once again and the throb of her previous orgasm still rolling through.

He’s so close and she can feel it, and when she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, chest rising and falling steadily, eyes scrunched shut as his own pressure builds. She would’ve smirked at it, if he wasn’t buried to the hilt in her mouth. He looked the most handsome light this, pink in the face with his muscles of his stomach flexing, trying to hold back.

As soon as her hands cup his balls, hurtling him towards his own orgasm, his jaw slackens and his grip hardens in her hair in such a satisfyingly painful way.

“Shit-” he pulls himself from her mouth, shoving her head back to the wall and she takes a much needed breath in, “Open”

He fists his cock to her open mouth, his blue, wild eyes boring into hers, chest tightening as he comes undone and releases thick ropes of cum onto her waiting tongue. She blinks up at him, both of them smelling of sex and arousal, her breasts heaving with her breathing. In the stark, low light of the corridor, his face looks so sharp, as if it were made of stone, with a glow that almost looked inhuman.

She dives on him again, sucking off the remainder of his cum and pressing her tongue to the underside, tracing the throbbing vein there. The over-stimulation has Ettore shiver slightly, releasing his hold on her for a moment as she pulls off him with a wet pop. He watches with a lewd curiosity as her throat contracts, a sigh from her lips showing how she had swallowed all of him. Her eyes glisten in a kind of gloating pride right up at him, a mischievous glint behind it all as she smiles in satisfaction.

He pulls her up with a hard grip on her arm, letting his eyes fall all over her body.

“Miss me?” she whispers against his lips.

“Shut up” he responds with a grin, crashing his lips to hers. Binding himself to her irreparably.

And even though it damages them both, it just hurts too good to even think about stopping.

dividers by @saradika

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics @theoneeyedprince @thelittleswanao3 @hb8301

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#ettore x you #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore x reader #ettore #ettore fan fic #ettore fanfic #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #high life fanfic #high life fanfiction #high life 2018 #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #ewanverse

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jojikawa · 7 months

Text

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙐𝙧𝙜𝙚 | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙀𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

WICKED EYES

MASTERLIST

This is a dark romance with descriptions of violence, gore, racism, sexism, and NSFW themes. The reader is black in this AU but this story can be enjoyed by all walks of life.

This chapter contains smut and NSFW descriptions. Slight gore warning.

Art by: Umikochanart dividers

Even to this day, Dio doesn’t know all of the secrets of the mask. His knowledge was exclusively surface level: The mask is activated with blood and unlocks the part of the brain that allows mortals to achieve Godhood. Almost every day he discovered new things about himself, the effect it had on his mind and body… and lastly, the effects it had on you. You’ve had a lot more time to adjust to your life as a vampire while Dio was stuck in a coffin.

The poor man had such a hard time controlling his hunger and it wasn’t like he gave a damn anyway. He drained pretty women—and men, that he hated, whenever he got the chance. He’s a God, why not feed whenever he wants? Although, he rarely saw you feed at all. He would be lying if he said he never had fantasies of you feeding on young women he favored. Unfortunately, Dio wouldn’t really see you indulge in your vampirism at all. You just read books and did anything except for what he wanted. How much can one person really read? He missed those days when the pining was mutual. He missed being about to make you blush and hide your face. He missed overloading your young mind with anxiety whenever he would kiss you. To this day he blames Jonathan for his shortcomings…even if it had nothing to do with him.

He made the decision to give you space. It may have been a bad idea but at the moment he didn’t know what else to do. Dio was on the cusp of madness, fighting hard against the violence that would ensue if he were to force you to love him. The world has done him so much wrong but the one thing he wanted to believe was true was your love. All the bad things you’d were things he never wanted to take as the truth. You were just angry. You’re always just angry. The fact that he felt insecure around you was baffling.

Perhaps, giving you space was a mistake. His bed was cold and empty without you. Since the moment you’ve arrived, you’ve given him the very warmth he lacked. The feeling of loneliness made him bitter. The kind of bitterness that turned into anger and would make him grit his teeth, clench his fist, and narrow his eyes at the nearest victim.

Dio’s mansion was big. Not nearly as big as his stolen castle from 100 years ago but he knew how to navigate it well. While looking for you, he couldn’t smell your scent at all. It was a sweet smell he memorized so that he would be able to find you in any situation…unfortunately, all he could smell was blood. It was fresh and the mere lingering scent made him lick his lips and smirk. Were you feeding? How adorable…but without him? That’s a hard pass.

He followed the trail, coming across things he did not expect. He found…bodies. Dead bodies. He recognized them too. They were some of his human servants—no, all of his human subjects. Bloodless and twitching with delight. They would surely die very soon.

“(y/n)?”

When Dio found you, your back was turned, still dressed in black silk sleepwear. The room was dark, hiding the monster that you had become. When you didn’t reply, he could only grin. Now, he understood. “You aren’t as good at controlling your hunger as you think you are.” He reveled in the feeling of you being dependent on him.

“I don’t care.”

Dio chuckled to himself. No matter how you chose to speak to him, he only found you adorable. The best thing he could think of to describe it was one love for a pet. You bother your beloved so much and when they bite you, you don’t even feel angry.

“I see you’ve put your stand to good use.” Dio stepped over the bodies and kneeled down beside you. “It looks like you’re able to influence the actions of others or at the very least—their feelings towards you.”

“I don’t care, Dio.”

Dio’s expression fell for a moment. It’s been so long and you still haven’t warmed up to him since he lied. Not even Petshop fixed things permanently. The bird adored you and you spent a lot of the day taking care of them…all while ignoring Dio. You gave into his touch. You’d let him hold you and kiss you wherever he’d like but you still weren’t all there. It was like you’d disassociate and he didn’t enjoy it if you weren’t present.

“Enyaba told me that she overheard you having words with Kakyoin before his departure to kill Jotaro Kujo.” His arm snaked under the back of your knees and the other around your torso as he picked you up bridal style. “Is that so?” You uttered flatly. “And, word has gotten to me that Kakyoin has failed to kill Jotaro and the two have become fast friends.”

You couldn’t see Dio’s face but you could tell he wasn’t exactly happy at that fact. The subtle tonal shifts in his voice showed you that he was mildly annoyed.

But that was surprising. Kakyoin joined Jotaro? Because of your stand?

Dio wanted to be angry with you but his soft spot didn’t allow it. Instead, he wanted to get to the bottom of this issue with your stand. He composed a test. Dio took you to where he was supposed to be meeting his new subject.

The Mansion twisted in shape, the walls and halls becoming unfamiliar, never allowing you to navigate them without the help of your possessive husband. Where you arrived was unknown but it was near the entrance. There, in front of you, was Enyaba but she wasn’t alone. Next to her was a tall man. He was big but not the same build as Dio. He has silver hair that seemed to stand up on its own. “Dio, what is this?” You clung to his shirtless body, earning a smile from him.

“Enyaba, please, tell me who this is again?”

The old woman cackled to herself with a particular bow and arrow in hand. The same one she used on you before.

“This is Jean Pierre Polnareff. He has become our new associate, whether he wants to be or not.”

“Polnareff, eh?” If Dio wasn’t holding you, he would be stroking his chin mischievously right now. “(y/n), use your stand power on him. Whatever it may be.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?”

“I want to see if Polnareff too joins Jotaro.”

“And if he does?!”

Dio chuckled at your aggression. He often found your attitude endearing. “And if he does, he will perish along with the rest of them.”

You narrowed your eyes even further. “I am not doing this.” You wiggled your way out of Dio’s arms. He let go of you, almost dropped you but you landed on your feet. “This doesn’t feel like royalty. These people don’t feel like servants to me. This is a cult.”

“But, mademoiselle,” The Frenchman intervened. “I chose to follow Dio by choice. I do not mind this rite of passage if it means—”

“Oh, I know you didn’t.” You turned to Dio. “When is this supposed to end? Johnathan is dead. Erina is dead. I don’t understand why you need to still go after that family.”

“Polnareff, Enyaba, you’re both dismissed.”

And just like sheep, they left.

Your arms were at your sides. Your clawed hand clenched itself just a little, readying you for whatever might possess Dio to act out in response to you questioning his motives. Although he was frightened to most, your fear for him dulled. Your disagreements with him evolved into just wondering what he’d do next.

The pit of anxiety suddenly blossomed in your stomach. He opened his mouth to speak but none of what he was saying to you could be heard. The deafening static of your mine filled your head and clouded your eyes. Dio was the source of your stress; the source of your undying body and insatiable hunger. You failed to resist acting on your own, feeling the need to protect yourself by inflicting pain before it could be inflicted upon you. You wanted to erase him.

You blacked out.

Sinking your teeth into him wasn't something completely foreign. Dio believed it to be a sign of uncontrollable love. Only he would allow his blood to be drawn by you…usually, if it were more…consensual.

His blood barely touched your tongue before he used The World to pry your sharp talons for nails out of his body.

“How many people have you killed?”

You flinched. “Wh-What?” His voice brought you back to reality, blood pooling from small wounds in his shoulder blades and running down his arms. They sealed themselves before he repeated himself. “How many people have you killed in your lifetime?”

“I-I haven’t killed anybody.” You shook your head in disbelief, showing genuine fear all over your face. Dio’s face remained unchanging. “But you have. Several of my servants, actually. Don’t tell me that it’s already left your mind.”

Your expression visibly changed to one of sorrow. “I didn’t…”

Dio’s lips went from neutral to a twisted grin. “So, that’s how you’ve stayed fed all of this time. I figured that such unladylike behavior wasn’t foreign to you, given your response from before…but now, it’s as if you have no recollection of it. Interesting.” he chuckled to himself, using his free hands to explore your body. He loved the pain inflicted on him. It was sexy, after all. He loved how the humanity left your eyes when you would taste the blood of others. He loved your embarrassed expression that washed over your face once you’ve gotten enough blood to stave off the hunger. It was like an urge you couldn’t control. Your primal instincts would take over and Dio enjoyed the idea that at any moment, you could kill him. Just like how you killed those poor non-stand users.

“Stay in denial all you’d like—in fact, I like it much better that way.” His arms fit perfectly at the curve of your back. The smell of the sanguine fluid pouring out of his wounds was intoxicating. He wasn’t healing himself on purpose. He wanted to entice you with his body. You felt him pull you closer against him, it filled your body with warmth and lust. You hated him but you wanted him too.

Buried deep inside of you, was a naive part of you that wanted to love Dio. The part of you gave your first kiss to him—the part of you that longed to have someone love you back, regardless of your upbringing or background. Who was lucky? You or Dio? You wanted to believe that Dio was lucky to have you, given how rotten he is but…could anyone else want you like this? You were a monster.

“I accept you for who you are and whoever you’ll turn out to be.”

You were speechless. You didn’t know how genuine his love for you was; if you could even call this love. Would you feel better if you just accepted him and his way of expressing himself?

You thought of Jotaro and his family. You thought of Joseph. And lastly, you thought of your child with Dio.

The feeling of his hand rubbing your cheek tenderly almost made you shiver. He could be so nice when he wanted to and you craved his gentle touch. Although, his words and actions felt oddly familiar. It was almost like Deja Vu. Was he…re-enacting the love interest’s actions from the novel you were reading before?

The Immortal Knight held his Immortal Princess in a time of uncertainty.

Those are the first words that came to your mind. You didn’t doubt that Dio accepted you but you stayed silent anyway. Never in your life have you met someone like him.

His fingers made your way to his chin and tilted your head up just a bit. Your face was once again filled with innocence and wonder. Dio wanted nothing more than to soil it. Your whole being was that of a beautiful virgin. His hungry lips pressed to yours. He tasted the lingering blood on your lips, making his kiss all the sweeter. You could sense the desperation within him.

“You will be mind forever.” He muttered between your lips. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth. Any small movement you made caused him to hold you even tighter; it was as if you'd disappear if he didn’t.

After such a tender moment, Dio returned you to his room, although he wasn’t interested in going back to sleep. The delicious stench of blood made him want to breed your beautiful body. This time, he would fuck you and you’d enjoy it this time. Then he’ll know he can conquer you any time it seems like you’re staying away.

To be honest, you wanted him too. His blood. It was almost like your relationship was transactional. Dio was grateful that his wife was a gorgeous gluttonous monster and you were grateful you had such a willing meal. You didn’t know why Dio’s blood seemed better than the others. It was most likely because it was Jonathan’s body you were harvesting from. Although, your hunger was different. It is clear to him that your hunger was amplified by the pregnancy symptoms.

He carried you to his nearby sitting chair. There was one in almost every room he spent time in. This one was different, though. This was for lap sitting. It was rare for you to stay with Dio in one place these days but he wanted to change that. You brought him so much relief when there was no other option to satiate his sex drive.

Dio held you between his legs, an arm underneath your thighs while his free hand covered your eyes so that you couldn't see what he was up to. But you felt it. His fingers traced your clothed cunt lightly, sending sensations to your stomach that burned with anxiety and delight.

“D-Dio…?” You felt the tips of his claws slice the fabric before he slid his fingers inside. He started with two. By instinct, you grabbed his forearm, trying to push him away. He resisted, not budging at all. “Dio!” You squirmed under his touch, attempting to remove his hand that was obscuring your vision. “Aw, don’t try to act so innocent now.” He smirked down at you and kept you close to his chest. “You’ve already opened your legs for me before.” He chuckled at the lewd memories. “You practically threw yourself at me, begging for me to fill your womb.” The rumbling of his voice in his chest gave you a sense of joy. A part of you felt safe. Although Dio was infatuated and obsessed, he was always here. For you.

“I’ve wanted nothing more than to please you, (y/n).” His digits curled inside of you, scratching your pelvic wall. You trembled and moaned at the contact. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure. You clawed at his hands, drawing blood from him but it wasn't enough to deter him from keeping at it. Nothing you did would turn him away. “My (y/n).” He sighed into you, taking in your natural scent. His primal instincts were screaming at him to ravage you.

“If fucking me is what you want then j-just get it over with!” You squeezed your eyes shut, accepting that you couldn’t break free, and tried your best to endure. “Aw~ And so soon? I’ve only just started preparing you. I can tell that I am the only man who you’ve allowed to touch you this way. Such a loyal girl you are.”

The World revealed itself, aiding Dio in holding you down once your stand came out. You never originally planned for it to show itself but it was like a reflex at this point. His stand held you by your ankles, preventing you from closing your legs over his hand. Dio made himself comfortable, resting his cheek against your temple. “Resist all you’d like. I enjoy the idea that you want to run away from me but you can’t.”

Your juices coated his fingers, overflowing and dampening the fabric of the chair beneath you. “D-Dio, please!” You cried out, your body jerking in different ways due to the sensation. “You were made just for me.” He whispered into your ear. “Leagues above the common whore.” He sped up his pace. Your clawing at his hands ceased, and you gripped his wrists, squeezing them tightly as a way to maintain your bearings in this situation. “—Dio, I’m going to…”

“Shh…” He hushed you. “You don’t want young Pucci to hear his Goddess spouting such filthy speech.” He felt your fluids slicking up his fingers. He could smell it too. It was an odd sweet smell that tempted him to give it a taste. The World let go of your ankles, turning its attention to your top that was still intact. It made no expression as it used its hands to tear the front open, exposing your chest. Now, he could see your tits bounce as he tortured your cunt below. Your whining and buckling only fueled him even more.

Your core was getting hotter and at any moment, you felt like you could squirt all over him…but he wouldn’t let you. His pace was fast but inconsistent, now allowing you to ride your high long enough to cream your juices. Why was he putting you through this? Well, because he enjoyed the idea of being the one to soil your innocence, obsessed with the idea of being your first everything and being the only person able to make you feel good. You imprinted onto him with your kindness and gentleness while you were both human and now all he wants to do is imprint onto you. Even if it meant just being able to satisfy you sexually, he would take it. As long as you needed him.

Dio’s hand lowered from your eyes to your mouth to prevent your moans from alerting any nearby guests. It was surely an indecent sight. You saw The World in front of you. It looks you in the eyes, its face unchanging as it places its hands on your breasts, kneading them in a massage-like manner. The pleasure was overstimulating! Your eyes became glossy from the unbearable feeling. You tried to cry Dio’s name but you couldn’t.

“Should I allow you to cum now, my dear?” His hand removed itself from your mouth and his fingers grabbed the sides of your face so that you could speak. “I-I…” You were unable to form words.

Your husband smirked. “Go ahead then. Release all over me so that I can release inside of you.” The World’s fingertips proved nimble when it began playing with your nipples. All of these sensations were lick electroshocks, powering your core and making it hot. You were unable to control yourself. Your body tensed up before a warm liquid spilled onto Dio’s hand.

You sighed, your whole body was tired from trying to break out of his grasp. There was no time for you to relax before you were being flipped onto your stomach by The World. You knew fingering you wasn’t all Dio wanted but did it have to be so soon?

What was left of your clothing was torn off and your naked bottom was brought to Dio’s clothed pelvis. You felt how hard he was underneath. The precum leaked from his garments, staining your skin as he readied himself for you.

“You have no idea how much I desire you.” He said, finally unsheathing his cock from his bottoms. He pushed your head down so that your ass stayed up. His member was burning hot and the cum leaked out even more as it rested between your cheeks. The veins pulsated on your soft skin.

You were unable to form words. He’s never handled you like this before. Despite the both of you being over 100 years old, your sexual chemistry was rather novice. In reality, this was just some guy you dated for a little while in your childhood. How could his love be of such burning passion from such little time together? Even after his century-long slumber, the first thing he did was locate you.

Dio placed a hand on your hip while the other grabbed a large chunk of your ass. He spread them apart, watching the leftover vaginal juice mix with his leaking fluid. The man seemed to have a hard figuring out which hold he wanted to ravage first.

Then he got an idea.

You felt the pad of Dio’s thumb place itself right on your asshole and without warning he pushed himself into your vagina. He found a way to stimulate both holes at the same time.

“D-Dio!” He had only just begun but you felt like you couldn’t take it. You were still so sensitive from his previous antics. “Who do you think you are? Denying your husband your body. Careful, I’ll split you in half.” His cock slid in and out with ease because he had already fucked you open with his fingers. All you could do was hold onto the arm of the chair for dear life. Tears pricked the orders of your eyes, threatening to spill out from all of the pleasure. This time was so much more different than the other times and was much more enjoyable than your first time together.

Your walls squeezed him so much that he became intoxicated with lust. Little by little, his cum leaked out, helping his cock become more slick with both of your juices. You held onto the arm of the chair for dear life as he tore up your insides. If you weren’t mistaken, you could feel him in your stomach.

With every movement, his grip on you grew stronger. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your cunt threaded to explode with cream at any moment. Dio’s hand that lay on your ass snaked its way up to your neck. He pulled you up so your back was now up against his chest.

The man felt your walls pulsating at his thrusts. He became like a feral animal, the way he fucked into you. It became so much that you couldn’t hold your moans in anymore. Dio’s confidence had been restored when he knew he could still dominate you with little effort. It was then that you felt your insides getting extremely hot. You felt a grunt emerge from his chest. He was cumming and coating your walls. Your adorable yet sexy mannerisms were too much. You take dick way too well.

For a brief moment, his vice grip finally loosened up. Your womb was already aching as it dripped with his fluid. Despite moving the least, you were tired and out of breath. On instinct, your hand raised to your lower abdomen. You audibly sighed as you stood up straight and turned around to Dio. He didn’t seem to be trying to clean himself up at all.

You looked down at his, still throbbing, hard cock. “Oh, Dio, don’t tell me—”

“I want to do missionary too.” His eyes narrowed at you and his lips curled into a grin. You physically cringed. His sex drive was probably worse than your hunger for blood. You can’t imagine what he might’ve put those poor prostitute women through. Your legs were still trembling from the previous activities.

It didn’t seem like you had a choice once Dio carried you over to a nearby sofa. He laid you on your back, immediately slumping onto you in a tired mess. “Dio—Ah!” You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him enter you one last time. He lazily pumped his load into your womb and you felt his heavy breath against the crook of your neck. A deep groan escaped his throat as if he exerted all of his energy so quickly.

Your eyes opened a bit, staying half-lidded. Even though it was clear that your husband was tired, he kept going. He was like a machine…or, more accurately, has become sex addicted. You caught a glimpse of Dio’s shoulder. You saw a star-shaped birthmark. It all came back to you that this was Jonathan’s body that he stole.

‘I’m sorry, Erina.’

@z3r0art

#jojo x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo imagines #jjba headcanons #dio x black reader #dio x reader #dio brando x reader #the bride of dio #dio brando #dark romance

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stilespeters · 1 year

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I don’t know if anyone else has thought of this but I had an idea for a one shot…?

It’s a Kai one. Maybe the reader is best friends with winter, they’re like sisters, and she’s dating kai as well they’ve been together for years even before cult kai. Maybe meadow is jealous of the fact kai is in love with reader and only shows his soft side to her instead of meadow I dunno. And so meadow persuades kai that she’s the mole he’s been worried about when it’s not so instead of winter dying… it’s the reader. The rest of the cult is in shock, and he feels so guilty as soon as he’s done what he’s done and then obviously when ally tells him that it wasn’t actually reader it was someone else he feels even worse and goes after meadow to get revenge. A bit depressing I’m sorry!

Keep your head up (part 1)

(part 1) (part 2*) (part 3)

pairing: Kai Anderson x fem!reader

a/n: i need to stop making these so long, i meant for it to be a one shot but it turned out to be 7k words so im dividing it into 3 parts. hope that's alright.

word count: 2328

summary: Kai thinks you're the mole and makes a life changing decision

warnings: sexual implications, violence, choking, kai being a bitch, meadow being a bitch, swearing

“I’m home!” You yelled as you rubbed your forehead and closed the door behind you. You had just had an awful day at work and you were happy to finally sit down and relax. You looked around and saw no one in your shared home with Kai, and you walked towards the kitchen. That’s where you saw Kai leaned against the counter with his back facing you.

“Hey honey.”

You walked up to him and embraced him, but something felt different. He didn't say a word, he didn't melt to your touch, and you stepped away. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said in an awfully calm tone, “You tell me.”

“What do you mean?” you gave him a confused look and Kai sighed. “Don’t play dumb.”

You kissed the back of your teeth and closed your eyes. You were getting riled up by his behavior lately. He was getting more paranoid by the days, and each time you got home, he kept saying something about a mole. You kept reassuring him that it was probably nothing, but Kai kept insisting. It was getting exhausting and you sighed.

“I’m not playing dumb, what’s going on?”

He narrowed his eyes at you and you raised your eyebrows.

“I have found the mole.”

“You're joking,” you let out a chuckle but Kai didn't laugh with you, which made you believe that he was speaking the truth. You didn’t even believe that there was a mole in the first place, “Well shit, who is it?”

“He’s downstairs,”

The way he spoke was unnerving. He just looked like he wasn't paranoid at all. Usually when there was something like this, he’d be fuming with anger.

You didn't question it and Kai gestured for you to follow him downstairs. You wondered what poor soul would be chained to a chair. Kai was ruthless and you knew that whoever crossed him, was a dead man.

When you stepped on the wooden stairs, it creaked beneath your feet in an eerie sound. You never liked the basement and so you tried to stay away from the place as much as possible. But whenever Kai needed you down there with his people, you had to oblige and stand next to Kai.

Kai stood in front of the members and you stood next to him as always.

“For weeks I have suspected a mole in our midst. Someone who is willing and capable to betray every single one of us. Someone who'd rather give up everything we built, just because they want to and can.” You looked down as he talked to the men and women in the room. You wanted this to be over as soon as possible so you could just relax on the couch.

“Meadow, tell me what you found,” he began and Meadow stepped forward. You furrowed your eyebrows as the woman you despised looked at you with somewhat of an unreadable expression. You could faintly see a glimpse of a smile and you wanted to punch it off her face.

“This morning I saw Y/n place something in a vault in the kitchen. It was hidden behind a painting and I saw the passcode she entered to open it,” she started and you felt the anger boil as you realized she had been snooping. You had no idea what the fuck Meadow was talking about. “I found a recording device, and when I replayed it, I found that it recorded every single gathering we have had these last couple of weeks. I also found one plane ticket to New York that is set on Friday, which is in three days.”

You looked at Kai who was simply looking at you with a blank expression and when everyone stared at you, you began to realize what was going on. You let out a nervous chuckle. “What? You think I did it? You think I recorded it to use it as evidence? Why would I do that?”

Kai shrugged. “You and I are the only ones who know the password to the safe. Plus, you have all the reasons to leave me.”

You chuckled. “I can't tell you how much I’ve wanted to kill you these last couple of years I've been married to you. And trust me there were times where I questioned my own sanity, but I love you. Are you really gonna take this bitch’s word over mine? Your wife? Besides, I have stuck by your side for over 6 years. If I wanted to rat you out I would've done it way earlier.”

“It makes sense, Y/n. You told Meadow that you wanted to leave for New York four weeks ago, she recorded it.” Kai had a phone in his hands and as he pressed play, your jaw dropped. Immediately your voice was heard from the device.

“You know, sometimes I just have the urge to just leave everything and move to… I don't know, New York or something. Anywhere but here. Kai would probably kill me. but I sometimes just want to runaway from this life.” The audio cut off at that moment and you gritted your teeth. This was pulled completely out of context. You never planned on leaving. You glared at Meadow who stood like she was the most innocent person on earth.

“How convenient that the audio stopped there. I promise you, Kai. I'm no the mole.”

“Don't try any shit on me Y/n! Don't lie to me!” He suddenly yelled and you tensed. You hated when he was yelling. “I know what I heard on that tape. You were planning on leaving me, you were planning on going to the authorities! You were planning on destroying the life we built together!”

The vein in his forehead was protruding and some of his spit landed on your face. "Who do you work for?!"

"No one!"

"You fucking liar! Is it the FBI? Are you fucking working for the FBI?! Tell me you bitch!"

“No! Why the fuck would I do that?!”

"Stop fucking lying!" he barked "I don't know the reason why you you wanted to betray me, were all those years together worth nothing?! I gave you everything! I was fucking willing to destroy the world for you! And you fucking double cross me?!"

“Why the fuck would I do that? She’s obviously lying!” You pointed at Meadow but she crossed her arms and sighed. “I’m just being honest. You were planning on betraying us all and leaving for another state. It’s best this way that we get rid of threats. Divine Ruler would want that-”

“-Don't speak for me Meadow.” Kai sneered and Meadow shut her mouth.

When Meadow said that she wanted to get rid of threats, you started to understand what she was trying to do. You started to put the pieces together.

Ever since she was new to the group, she had been trying to befriend you. You had never really tried to get to know any of the members except for Ally and Winter, but as soon as Meadow barged in, she had tried to get close to you. At first you talked to her as little as possible, but when she came to you one time with wine in the middle of the night in the living room, you had opened more to her. That’s when you told her that work was killing you and you felt like you needed air. Hence why you said you would leave for New York if you had the chance. Obviously you didn't mean that. You were sarcastic.

Meadow had always been jealous of the life you had. She was simply jealous of your position in Kai's group. Plus, she was obviously in love with Kai. He was mean to everyone except for you. He only showed his soft side to you, and she was jealous that you got extra care, that he treated you differently than the others. He treated you better.

You realized this jealousy quickly after she had arrived and just to spite her, you had once kissed Kai while she was in the other room. That kiss turned out into a make out session and before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall with him sliding in and out of you. You had moaned extra loudly, spurring him to go harder and the only sounds that were heard from the room was skin on skin and loud grunts and your screaming.

Meadow heard everything and although she was hoping you screamed out of terror as Kai stabbed you, she knew better. She promised to herself right then and there that she'd tear you down and take your spot. But you had been with Kai for more than 6 years, so she had to convince him you were going to leave him. Kai was an emotionally unstable person. It shouldn't be that hard.

Now, the little shit had baited you and had recorded your conversation. She pulled everythng out of context.

When you came to that realization, your eye twitched and your jaws clenched shut together.

You snapped.

“You fucking cunt! You’re a liar!” You screamed at the blonde woman as you lunged for her, and she let out a shriek as you toppled her body. Your legs pinned her to the ground and you pulled her hair before you punched her in the face, but before you could attack her further, two strong arms pulled you back. You saw Meadow on the ground groaning while holding her bloody nose, and you tried to free yourself from the strong grip.

“She’s a liar! Kai you have to believe me!-”

Before you knew it, Kai’s pressed you against the wall. You felt your body being crushed and you whimpered as Kai’s face was a few inches from yours.

“Kai, listen to me. Please.” you managed to squeak out but his face was fuming with anger. No, that's not the right word. His face was fuming with rage. Pure rage.

You had never seen him like this. You had never seen him out of control like this and you felt scared. It wasn't the first time you felt afraid of your husband, but this time you were actually scared for your life.

Your eyes moved to the members of his group and you made eye contact with a woman who stood silently next to the couch.

“Winter, please you have to believe me,” you felt tears escape your eyes, “Winnie, please.”

Before you could plead any more, you felt two hands at your throat. Your eyes began to water even more from the pressure Kai put on your neck. You tried to pry his hands away but he was simply too strong.

It looked like he stared into your soul, and as you started to feel nauseous, he pressed even harder. The last thing you remembered was him pulling your head inches from the wall, before ramming you back into it with a loud bang.

Everything went black.

---

Kai remembered the day he met you like it was yesterday. It was the summer of 2010.

He remembered the way the birds chirped happily on a Saturday afternoon. He hated it. He kept rolling his eyes while he wished they would just shut up. To make things even worse, the bell rang while he was in the basement. When he called out for Winter, she didn't respond. And so, while cursing under his breath, he walked up the stairs to the first floor, and he opened the door. This moment was the moment he will never forget.

He was met with a young woman. Her smile was the first thing he noticed, and when her eyes looked up at him, he felt like time had stopped.

“Hi?” Kai started and you had a big grin on your face. “Hi! Is Winter home?”

Kai shook his head and he leaned against the doorway. “No, I think she went out to get groceries,”

He saw your grin falter but you still smiled friendly at him. “Ah, okay. Do you know when she gets home?”

“I think she left like an hour ago. She should be home soon,” he bit the inside of his cheek and looked you up and down again. He tried to be subtle, but he failed. “You can come inside and wait for her, I don’t think it’ll take long.”

“Sure.” Your eyes lit up and Kai stepped to the side and let you in. The house was large but cozy, and you smiled when you saw a photograph of Winter on the cabinet. There were more photographs with the man who opened the door, and they looked alike.

Winter had mentioned to you that she had brothers, but you had never seen a picture of them.

“I’m Kai by the way.” he started and you turned around to look at him. “I’m Y/n.”

He felt his cheeks burn up and he went through his hair with his hand. You were absolutely a sight for sore eyes, and he never remembered any of Winter’s friends who were gorgeous like this. He found them all annoying as hell, yet you seemed like a kindhearted person.

The door opened and Winter walked in with two large bags. As she saw you, her eyes went wide and her face contorted into happiness. “Y/n oh my god!” she yelled and she dropped the bags and ran towards you.

“Winnie!”

You hugged her tight and your eyes clenched shut. You had missed her so much, she was like the sister you never had. You befriended her in college when you were her roommate, and ever since, you two had the closest bond ever. You loved her to death like a sister.

“Do you have your stuff?” she asked and you nodded. “Yes, my luggage is in the car.”

Kai looked confused and walked to the two of you. “Luggage?”

Winter smiled and grabbed your hands while she looked at her brother. “She’s staying with us for a while. She’s taking the guest room.”

Kai raised his eyebrows. He had not expected it, but he couldn't find himself to be angry at it. In fact, he was delighted. He wanted to get to know you better and this was the perfect opportunity. Usually, if it were someone else Winter brought home, he’d be annoyed and say no, but looking at your beautiful features and kind smile, he found himself liking the idea.

“I’ll help with your luggage.” He said and he walked outside as you followed him.

Kai remembered how you and he talked for hours and hours after the first meeting. He remembered that the both of you always had something to say to one another. It seemed like you had discussed every topic you could think of, yet you still had so much to tell him. He remembered the way his stomach hurt when he would laugh about your stupid jokes, the way his heart would beat a little faster when he was around you. The way your touch melted him in an instant.

The day you moved into the Anderson household, was the day Kai's world got turned upside down.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x female reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x female reader

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