#nobody look at me I have a vision and it’s breeding Ideas

[bruciemilf]

OK but drag queen Jaime and head over heels vigilante jason

[dhampling]

✨Feral breeding Astarion girl ✨

I am ovulating, excuse the pure amount of asks that will be in your inbox by the end of the week.

Astarion who abuses the tadpole link, using it to try and figure out what he can and can’t do. The moment he realises he can talk to his lover through such a link without anybody else hearing, he’s a tease. He’s sending sinful words down the tadpole while the camp is all eating, everyone else is talking and laughing while his poor lover is just trying to get through the meal without climbing Astarion like a tree.

Astarion having a normal conversation, maybe even bickering with someone over some minor issue. Only to be telling his lover what he would do once they’re away from prying eyes.

Maybe even sending the message accidentally to Gale, and seeing the pure look of horror on both of their faces.

Also feel free to write about whatever I send! It’s an honour for these thoughts to even be considered worthy of such treatment.

oh how i love it when you appear in my inbox my sweet angel.

ok, i like it. i see the vision. i reckon astarion would absolutely get off on being the most debauched little freak with it - describing in MINUTE DETAIL his plans for the evening together through the link. i also think he’d be pulling super lewd faces when nobody else is looking, eyes rolled back; very hammy, and yet he still looks hot?

i also reckon anything sent to gale would be a million percent intentional as a ‘back the fuck off’ kinda deal.

give me all of your ovulation thoughts my darling i will spread the good word

also i still can’t stop thinking abt the tired humping idea from the other day so trust and believe. it’s coming.

[highinmiamiii]

KNOW IT DONT COME IN A SHOT GLASS PART2

18+ billy butcher x supe!reader

author’s note: hello my fellow freaky weird girls this is pretty nasty, i hope u all enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it. as i mentioned before this is probably my first time trying to write any kind of fic since like middle school. this is slightly inspired by butcher and maeve scene in s3, but with reader, and better because it’s inspired by Rehab by Amy Winehouse ;)

(CW: mentions of addiction, alcohol relapse, breaking sobriety, smut, PIV, unprotected PIV, f!receiving oral, breeding if u squint, language)

pls lmk if i missed anything

The next thing you knew, you’re sprawled out woozily on the couch, having taken off your sweater leaving you in your tight-fitted black tank top, 4 drinks deep into the horrible fucking idea that was breaking your sobriety with Billy Butcher.

Butcher leans against the couch, a glass of the authentic Russian vodka he had brought back from their mission to find Soldier Boy held between his fingers while he twirls the drink in it, looking intensely at it. Even though this isn’t the first time you’re helping Butcher and his team, you still haven't gained Butcher's complete trust. At least half an hour has passed with the both of you drinking, barely even speaking before Butcher had gone on a rant about supes and why they were ‘The World’s Greatest Cunts’. “I done it all…Coke, Smack, Meth, E…nothin’ quite like this..” Butcher says, analyzing the small tube of V

“Jeez-“ You say huffing at his admission to having done pretty much every drug you’d ever heard of. Butcher sighs and runs his hands over his face, leaning back on the couch as he says “Nobody should have that kind of power. Not even me. Every single one of them has to go, including you" He leans in closer to you, his eyes never leaving the small tube of V. "But I'll be damned if I let someone like you slip through my fingers." His voice is low and dangerous, hinting at the thoughts swirling around in his mind as his eyes flick up and down your body.

You furrow your eyebrows, taking a swig from your glass as you try to decipher what the hell that was supposed to mean. You chuckle softly “You’re an asshole, I’m going out of my way and risking my life to help you, but you really just want me gone too” You roll your eyes and cross one of your legs over the other sinking further back into the couch. “I respect it, Really, your eyes are on the prize, I get it.” You say teasingly before taking another sip from your glass and sliding it across the coffee table. His voice is rough and serious as he looks at you directly, he leaves his glass on the table after finishing the last drop that was left in it. leaning forward and resting my arms on my legs as i let out a deep sigh. there’s a beat before i slowly tilt my head up towards Butcher as i look into his eyes deeply. "What I want and what's right aren't always the same thing," he says, his gaze unwavering. He leans in even closer to you, close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin. "You're clever, I'll give you that.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean, Butcher?” You roll your eyes, once again, your vision a little fuzzy and your thoughts a little cloudly now. Butcher tsks and tilts his head over to you “Means that you, with your little superhero complex and your 'doing what's right' attitude, could be a liability. But... at the same time, you're the only one who seems to see beyond the surface of all this fuckin’ blimey shite." he says, his voice low and husky. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing against your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. "You drive me mad, woman.” He says with his lips slightly parted, eyes wide as he looks into your eyes “But that doesn't change my mission." Butcher clears his throat and reaches for the glass on the table, to pour himself another glass.

Your eyes search around his face, taking in those pouty parted lips, the scruffy, slightly greying beard and his wide glassy eyes, you take a deep breath and slowly lean closer before grabbing his entire face and breaking the distance between the two of you as your lips smash together in a searing kiss, Butcher let’s out a muffled protest. A flicker of surprise flashes across his face, quickly replaced by a scalding intensity as he deepens the kiss, his hand snaking around your waist.

A few seconds go by before he pulls away and shakes his head, looking down before looking up into your eyes and standing up, the look behind his eyes showing a thousand words…or rather, these specific ones:

‘What the fuck was that??????’

You scoff in annoyance and sit up, running your hands over your thighs before getting up off the couch and looking at him. You cross your arms over your chest and avert your gaze to the side “What? Still think you’re too good for me, s’that it?” You say, taking a few steps closer to him, looking up at his face. You raise an eyebrow, that was the easiest way to convince Butcher to do just about anything, any self-loathing asshole for that matter. Make it seem like there is no lower low.

A flash of annoyance flickers in his eyes, but then he sees right through your little game. With a smirk playing on his lips, he steps closer to you, towering over you. He looks down at you with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, his lips quirking into a smirk. "Too good for you? Darling, I'm not the one playing dress-up in some fantasy world." He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You laugh in his face “That’s real fuckin’ rich, isn’t it? Considering I didn’t have a choice to be like this, you’re the one fuckin’ playing fantasy. You live it for what, 24 Hours? You’ll never fucking know what it’s like, Butcher.” You slowly get more riled up as the rant progresses, backing him up into a wall until your forearm is just under his neck. Pinning him up against the wall, he was strong of course, but no match for a supe, especially as wasted as he was right now.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but the flash of annoyance quickly returns. He smirks again, his hands coming up to grab onto your forearm. "You're right, darlin'. I'll never know what it's like to be a fucking sick ultra-cunt supe freak” He smirks, fucking smirks like the smug cocky bastard he is, knowing he’s just adding insult to injury right now.

You squint, your eyebrows knit together in frustration as you sneer at him, pushing back even harder now. You use most of your force now as he strains under you, holding him down effortlessly with your strength.

“Fuck. You.” You whisper into his ear slowly enunciating each and every syllable. His smirk fades, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. He tries to push back, but it's a futile effort against your superior strength. "Jesus-alright, alright... I get it," he says, his voice strained, breath hot against your ear. His body tenses under yours, a spark of defiance flickering in his eyes. The smug look on his face returns, but his eyes are still a little wide with caution. "You’re a big fucking superhero. Congratulations. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo, sweetheart." He sneers again, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He tries to push off from the wall, but you don't budge an inch. "Let go of me, damn it.” he says.

But even as he struggles, a thrill runs through him, his cock slightly kicking up in the confines of the rough denim on his body. You surrender, letting your arm fall, but your knee is now beginning to nudge just between his legs. "oi, easy there, love," he says through a hiss as your knee nudges into the now sensitive, growing bulge in his jeans. "You don't want to start something you can't fucking finish." Yet his words falter as he watches your knee press tighter against the growing bulge in his pants, his breath catching. He swallows hard as his back meets the cool bricks once more, unable to break free from the intensity in your eyes, and the persistent nudge of your knee into his growing hardness. He clears his throat and tries to maintain some semblance of control. Trying to keep his voice steady even as his heart pounds in his chest and you invade his personal space again, he stammers, eyes darting between yours.

His back is now fully against the wall, your knee remaining unmoving between his legs as he starts to squirm. You reach out and grab his face with one hand, leaning in and practically devouring his mouth with a fervor and hunger that was difficult to understand for yourself. He was such a piece of shit, what the hell were you doing? Butcher's initial instinct is to push you away, but he finds himself caught in that fiery gaze and the taste of your lips. He responds eagerly, his hand reaching out to grip your hip possessively. The irony of this moment does not escape him, but neither does it stop him. The kiss is sloppy and messy, desperate and breathy before you let your gaurd down, your strength faltering in hopes that butcher will take some control here as you sigh breathily into his open mouth. Sensing your surrender, his ego swells. His free hand slides up from your hip to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss.

His tongue explores your mouth boldly, hungrily; it's been a long time since someone has challenged him like this. Butcher grips your waist tightly and flips you both over roughly so that now your back is against the wall and he’s the one pushed up against you. He desperately attacks your neck with his mouth, suckling and biting all over your collarbone. You gasp softly at the searing feeling of his lips devouring your skin like he’d never seen a woman in his damn life. His hand sneaks down your back onto the swell of your ass, giving it a tight, rough squeeze as your hand tangles itself in his hair, giving it a sharp tug before pushing him down onto his knees in front of you roughly. Butcher groans into your neck, the sound muffled and needy as you pull his hair, he drops to his knees without hesitation, his hands immediately going for the waistband of your pants. He attempts to yank them down in one go and growls in frustration when they won’t budge, his big clumsy thick hands struggling to get the button open. You snicker under your breath softly, looking down at him as he struggles “Really?” Butcher stops his struggling and tilts his head back to look up at you, his light eyes shining with a mixture of annoyance and pure unfiltered lust. He smirks ear-to-ear before reaching up and yanking the button of your jeans off, the fabric ripping easily under the force of his strong hands.

You gasp, biting your lip to stifle a chuckle as you look down at him, lips parted and eyes wide in shock “Did you just fucking rip my jeans-“ “-And now they're coming off," he finishes gruffly, his hands gripping the waistband of your now-open pants and dragging them down your legs, taking your sheer black lace underwear with them. He leans forward and nuzzles his face into your thighs, inhaling deeply before looking up at you from between your legs. You smirk “you’re a fucking pussy, y’know, for someone who advertises himself as some hard ruthless badass- psssh, i mean, on your fucking knees in front of me, between a supes thighs, really? s’pretty pathetic” You scoff and grip the back of his hair tightly once more.

He growls in frustration at your words, his eyes flashing with anger as he grips the backs of your thighs and yanks you forward, forcing you to straddle his face.

He buries his face in your center, his tongue darting out to taste you. He groans in pleasure, the sound vibrating through you as he begins to devour you eagerly. He laps at your folds, his tongue sliding through your slickness and tasting every inch of you. He sucks on your clit, drawing it between his lips and teasing it with the tip of his tongue before plunging his tongue deep inside of you. You gasp, letting go of his hair as he has your thighs around his head. You throw your head back in a breathy sigh as he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before with his tongue “O-oh my god..” You roll your hips slightly, basically riding his fucking face for a second. His cock is almost leaking through his jeans when he feels you do that. The feel of your hips grinding down on his face is enough to make him lose control. He grips your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he eats you out with wild abandon. He growls around your pussy, the vibrations making you tremble. He continues to feast on you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. His arousal is palpable, the thick bulge of his cock straining against the denim as he loses himself in your taste.

Your legs are shivering at this point, hair is sticking to your face with a sheen of sweat over your body “B-butcher-“ You moan sweetly, rolling your hips once more and burying your hand in his hair again. The feeling of his beard scratching between your thighs was enough to make your mind go numb. The fact that you were both the drunkest you’d ever been for a period of time was of course, not helping. Everything felt so fucking good, it was like you were buzzing with pleasure everywhere Butcher touched you. The bruising grip of his finger on your ass and thighs, the smooth silky, yet rough glide of his tongue through your slick folds and in and out of your tight creamy cunt. He groans into you, the vibrations only adding to the symphony of sensations assaulting your body. His grip on your thigh tightens, pulling you impossibly closer as he suckles and flicks his tongue rapidly at your clit, bringing you right to the edge. “Jes-Jesus Christ-“ Your legs are trembling and your entire body is on fire, the pleasure is so fucking intense, you’re so close, everything is going right. Until Butcher stops. He fucking stops. He pulls away, leaving you aching and empty, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. “Not so fast, luv. Not bloody done ‘ere yet" He rises to his feet, his erection straining against his jeans. You look at him in complete disbelief and rage “Are you- Are you fucking kidding me?? I was about to-“ You sneer at him and grab him by his ridiculous fucking Hawaiian shirt

He doesn't flinch under your grip, meeting your anger with a cold, calculating gaze. "I know exactly what you were about to, love. And trust me, it ain’t happenin’ till I bloody say so." He plucks your hands off his shirt, his touch rough and possessive. God he was so fucking annoying. “You’re so fucking annoying.” you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah? s’that right, darling?” His hand moves a stray hair out of your face before picking you up and carrying you over to a nearby desk, he sits you up on the edge, moving whatever paperwork was there to the side and beginning to unbutton his shirt. “Fuck you, I’m not waiting.” You sneer, quickly sliding your arm across the desk and wiping every last paper, trinket, file, ashtray etc. off the desk and onto the floor. You sit up and grab butcher by the shirt again, flipping you both over and pushing him down so he’s laying down with his back against the desk. You pop the buttons of his shirt off by ripping it open for a little bit of payback for your jeans. You straddle his waist, huffing and panting heavily as you look down at him before continuing to make out with him, just this time as you gently grind up against his crotch. He moans into your mouth as you grind against him, the friction of your wet heat against his erection through his jeans almost unbearable. His hands find your hips, gripping tight as he breaks the kiss, gasping for air. "Fuuuck, you're a feisty one, aint ya?” You reach for his belt, trying to unbuckle his while continuing to grind down on him and make out with him. He groans as you unbuckle his belt, her eyes darkening with desire. He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. "Gonna let me feel that tight super-cunt, eh?" he growls, nipping at your bottom lip. You scoff “Ew- what the fuck- don’t- don’t call it that-“

You snicker as you unbutton his dark jeans and tug them down his thighs, trying to catch your breath before continuing further.

He grunts, his cock springing free as you lower his navy boxers. It's so incredibly hard and thick, a vein that you almost think you can see throbbing running down the thick shaft, the tip already glistening with precum. "What do you want me to call it then, love? Your pretty little pussy?"

You shake your head no and make a disgusted face.

He smirks, his eyes roving over your body hungrily. "Your delectable, succulent, irresistible cunt?" He reaches up to cup your breast, thumb teasing the hardened nipple through your top. "Or maybe your divine, heavenly, fuck-tight pussy?"

“Okay, okay! stop, please. i’m begging you. let’s just stop referring to it all together” You bury your head in your hands, slightly snickering but also absolutely appalled at the strange

pussy-naming creativity of William Butcher. He laughs, ruffling your hair before pulling your hands away from your face. He chuckles, his hand moving from your breast to your waist. He pulls you closer, nuzzling your neck. "Alright, love. No more pussy talk." He nips at your earlobe, then starts trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder. You reach for his leaking, rock-hard, veiny, thick cock, running your thumb over the tip ever so gently. He shudders, his hips bucking slightly as your thumb teases the sensitive head. A low, rumbling moan escapes him. "Christ, that feels good." He reaches for your hand, guiding it to stroke him fully, his length pulsing in your grip. You give the thick pulsing shaft a soft squeeze with each pump of your fist, your thumb continuing to brush his sensitive leaking tip. You bite your lip looking down at him as you continue to pump his cock. He throws his head back, eyes clenched shut, his teeth gritted as he groans deeply. His eyes snap open, meeting yours with a heated gaze. He reaches up, grabbing your wrist to still your hand around his cock. "Look at me," he commands, his voice low and rough. He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your knuckles. “I-I want it. Please.” you whisper. “Want what, love?” Butcher tilts his head acting clueless as he runs his hands up and down your waist, admiring every inch of your body. “Now is not the fucking time to act stupid if your cock isn’t inside of me in the next two minutes i swear to god Butc-“ the wind is smacked out of your lungs as he sheaths into your tight cunt with one sudden thrust, you yelp almost silently as you look down at him your lips parted in a pout and brows knitted together in a mixture of pain and pleasure. His face contorts with pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt, his thick, calloused hands gripping your hips possessively "Ah, there it is," he growls, his voice strained as he holds still, buried to the hilt inside you. "Look at you, taking my cock so deep." He leans in, nipping at your lower lip. "You're so bloody tight, love.” Your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden as you bury your head in his neck letting out a soft quiet muffled whimper, the tip of him was nudging against that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back so deliciously. It was rare guys ever even managed to hit that spot one during sex for you, Butcher had barely just slipped in and he was already pushing so tight up against it that you were out of breath. "Fuck, you're lovely," he groans, feeling your walls quiver and flutter around his cock. He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you down harder onto him as he begins to rock his hips up in a slow rhythm. "Look at me, love.” You’re panting heavily as your already fucked out gaze meets his gorgeous devilishly handsome eyes “Mmmh, p-please” You throw your head back as he fucks up into you, even though you were on top, if you even tried to move right now you would probably collapse from how good this felt, how fucking full he was making you feel. "You want me to fuck you harder, is that it?" he growls, his voice rumbling against your chest as he picks up the pace. You whine “Fuck..No-Ye- I-“ You wrap your arms around his bare back thrusting your hips up to meet his thrusts as you whimper “Butcher- Jesus- I- fuck..” The pleasure thrumming through your body is so fucking intense, he was so so so deep, so thick, filling you to the very brim you felt like you were out of breath more and more with each thrust. Digging your nails into the skin of his back and scratching at it as you begin to slowly bounce your hips on his cock. "Ah fuck," he grunts, feeling your nails dig into his flesh, the pain only spurring him on further. He bucks his hips up into you roughly, matching the bounce of your hips. The filthy sound of your skin, slapping against each other fills the room, mixing with the sweet sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips that was beginning to drive Billy to absolute madness.

"You're driving me fucking crazy, you know that?" he pants, his voice strained as he pushes harder into you. His fingers dig into your hips, gripping tightly as he tries to keep himself from losing control completely.

“I-I’m close Butcher-“ You gasp out softly, gripping his shoulder tighter, your nails leaving little red crescent mark dents in his back. "Bloody hell, you better not come until I tell you to," he hisses, his cock twitching inside you. "I'm not done with you yet, love." He grips your hips harder, his fingers bruising as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. You whine throwing your head back “Mmmmmh- P-please…why..” "Because I say so, that's why," he grunts, his face contorted in a mask of pleasure and exertion. "You'll do as I say when we're like this, you hear me?"

"Oi, I said, do ya fuckin’ hear me" he says, his voice strained. He watches as your breasts bounce with each movement, the sight eliciting a primal instinct within him. You nod softly biting your lip as your panting grows heavier “Please…mmphh…Butcher” you sigh.

"Christ, you're a sight for sore eyes," he grunts, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. You groan in frustration and pleasure, so desperate to finish, and so sick of his bullshit teasing. Your hand snakes between both of your bodies, reaching between your legs as you dip your fingers into your slick, puffy folds, trying to get any sort of friction against your throbbing delicate clit. Butcher smirks at your frustration, raising an eyebrow. He grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from your clit and holding it above your head. "I told you, I'm in charge here." You pout, grinding your hips down in a desperate attempt to get a sliver of friction back where you needed it most “Fuck you” You sneer “Stop. I-I needa cum Butcher please” You whine, pouting and looking up at him with those wide doe eyes. "What's the magic word?" he teases, his voice low and sultry.

It’s moments like these that make you want to slap the smug ridiculous fucking accent right out of him. You squint at him, grinding your teeth together. His grin doesn't falter as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "Come on then, y’can have what you want...when you say please." He punctuates each word with a gentle bite, his stubble scratching against your cheek. Your hands make their way back up to his hair, giving it a gentle pull before moaning a desperate “Please” into his mouth, you kiss him hungrily, trying to fight his grip stilling your hips from moving up and down. He smirks against your lips at the sound of that single word, pleased with your desperation. Butcher loosens his grip slightly but doesn't let go completely - just enough to let your hips squirm and move in small motions against him. Butcher's thumb finds your swollen clit, circling it slowly as you whimper and writhe beneath him. He groans at the sensation of your wet heat, the way your body yields to his touch. "Christ, you're soaked," he mutters, rubbing your clit with increasing pressure. Butcher's cock continues to slip and slide inside you, stretching your entrance before plunging deep and pulling all the way back out again. His wrist twists, pointer and middle finger rubbing against your swollen clit in a come-hither motion that has you gasping and crying out. Letting out a ‘humph’, Butcher thrusts into you harder, he can feel your muscles tightening around him, your breath hitching as you edge closer and closer to release. "Come on, love," He continues to pound into you with increasing intensity, his fingers never leaving your clit, rubbing and circling in a maddening rhythm that has your legs giving out deeming you unable to continue riding him, and your back arching. He leans down to bite and suck at your neck as he fucks up into you harder, his fingers pinching and rolling your clit in time with his deep thrusts, the combination of the dirty talk, the bite of pain and pleasure, the slick friction of your slick warm cunt clenching around his cock and pulling him in deeper, all building to a cacophony of your whimpers and soft moans muffled into his neck, combined with his deep groans and shaky breaths. You were both just about to fucking explode with pleasure as your legs trembled insistently, your walls clamping around him tightly, practically choking his poor cock. "Blimey... that's it... fucking squeeze my cock with that sweet cunt of yours," He grunts, his lips finding yours in a bruising, desperate kiss. His hips buck wildly against yours, fucking deeper into you as he chases his climax. “A-alright then, Doll- come on- I’m gonna-“ He taps your ass gently trying to signal for you to get off of him before he came. You bite your lip and smirk planting your hand on his chest for leverage before taking a deep breath and starting to bounce up and down once again. His hands slide up your waist trying to still your movements “Y’little fuckin’ brat…” He groans, gripping your hips tightly as you continue to bounce on his cock. His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to hold off his orgasm, but he’s helpless under you.

You throw your head back, gripping his shoulder tightly and digging your nails into it as your climax approaches, your tight slick walls fluttering around him. The feeling almost suffocating Butcher as you continue to ride him with intense fervor, chasing your orgasm. Your tits are bouncing wildly as your face contorts into a loud whimpered moan of his name, your pussy squeezing him in so tight as you cream around him, gasping for air as your legs shiver, your entire body on fire that it sets off his own orgasm.

With a final deep thrust, his cock buried to the hilt inside your throbbing pussy, he explodes. His orgasm ripping through him with a roar. Pumping the white-hot spurts of his cum into you as he fills you up, painting your inner walls with a reckless abandon. His whole body shudders and trembles with the force of his orgasm, leaving him breathless. He opens his eyes to look at you, admiration shining in their depths. You desperately try to catch your breath, your brain slightly fuzzy of the feeling of his sticky spend dripping out of you right now. You look into his eyes and immediately feel your cheeks begin to flush in a little bit of post orgasm clarity. He watches you, his chest still heaving as he tries to catch his breath. The intensity of your orgasm was almost overwhelming, and he grins at you as he sees the slight dazed look in your eyes. "Fuckin' hell, you're incredible."

He runs his hand down your bare arm looking into your face as his other hand slides down your waist, helping you up off his cock. You bite your lip softly and cross your arms over your chest. He keeps his hand on your waist, guiding you off of him gently as he props himself up on his elbow. His other hand gently trails down your arm, feeling the goosebumps forming under his fingers. You look around the room, spotting your panties on the floor, picking them up and slipping your legs back into them as you throw your tank top back over your torso. You walk over to the couch again, settling into it “Got a cig?” You ask. He watches you as you slip back into your panties and throw on your tank top. The way your breasts move under the fabric as you walk across the room is mesmerizing. When you ask for a cigarette, he grins and fumbles through his pockets before sighing deeply as he feels an empty box “Fucking bollocks…I got bugger-all, fresh out, doll” He runs his fingers through his hair before picking up his boxers and stepping back into them “You wouldn’t mind coming with me to nick a pack, eh?” He looks you up and down before continuing looking around the room for the rest of his clothes. You sit up and chuckle

“Well- I don’t typically go to the store in my underwear, If only I had pants to wear… Oh, that’s right.” You say, tone dripping with sarcasm and bitterness at the loss of your favorite pair of jeans.

[bangchansslut6]

{Desperate for your love..}

Part one...

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°•°•—Authors note: SO I've been gone..for about a year🙈 i honestly forgot I have a blog and now only remembered. I've had this idea in mind for awhile so..YAY!! Also i decided to make this into TWO parts so i could upload the first one faster!!•°•°—

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°•°•—WARNINGS: fem reader, Smut, Fluff kinda, WATERBORDING, comfort, kidnapping? Blood, vampires, alcohol, breeding kink, blood kink, dom kink, corruption kink, virgin reader, innocent reader, Dom!Chan, Sub!Reader. Chan is a vampire Reader is human and is described as curvy—•°•°

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Chan was known all over the land. His whole family was. The Bahngs the most dangerous vampire family that had ever been reported. Their king, James Bahng was a special type of vampire and had led that onto his three sons including Chan.

They were all extremely feared and nobody dared approached the forest they were said to live in.

Chan was the oldest of three brothers. He was now at the age of 2667 or in human years that would be 26. And still not married. Chan was known as the strict and cold brother. He was known to be extremely quiet and cold but VERY powerful. Chans power stat could go higher then his father.

It was a usual half moon night. The air was gloomy and foggy. Chan was walking around the forest hands behind his back. He had black dress pants on with some black shoes. A red button up and a black royal vest with a black coat on. A silver chain around his neck and some rings on his fingers.

Walking around the gloomy night Chan heard the humans cheering. With curiosity Chan walked towards the sound to see them cheering as a woman. A beautiful woman. Was tied to a tub filled with water. She had a bag over her head and was continually being submerged in the water. Chan could hear her crying from where he was standing.

Usually he wouldn't have cared. But this woman made his heart race and his palms get sweaty for no reason. He looked forward looking at her body. His eyes felt a slight sting before going back to normal..did..he just get a zing?

A zing was a thing that vampires got once they found true love. And there was Chans. About to die. A zing happened only once in a vampires life and Chans was finally here.

Stepping out the shadows Chan made himself present and all the villagers yelled in fear and ran while the woman was still tied. Chan walked over to her and untied to knot letting her fall but catching her before she did.

She was beautiful. Her hair and body and skin. She was breathtaking. Picking her up in his arms Chan looked down at her. His blood red eyes shining a bit in the moonlight.

"Why must humans ruin everything beautiful?" Chan whispered to himself touching readers cheek with his cold hand. "Your so freaking adorable. Like a little bunny. Now your my bunny." Chan grabbed her waist picking her up bridal style.

—Reader POV—

I felt air finally hit my lungs. I trembled the night was cold against my damp dress. My vision was blurry. Who was this man? I didn't know. But his features and his strength made me blush. I didn't fight back. I couldn't I was too weak and out of breath.

When I opened my eyes again I saw we were indoors. In his house I'm guessing. I was on a bed. A big bed. It was black with silk and cotton covers.

The room is dark..too dark to see my surroundings. I can see a desk and a closet though..where am I?

Finally after awhile of quiet thinking I stand up grabbing onto anything I could not to fall because my legs were so sore. But then there's a sound. A sound of a out of tune piano playing a creepy tune. Of course it sounds nice but the echo makes me shiver in fear but also confusion. I needed to leave. Now.

°•°•—AUTHORS NOTE: SOO this is the first part and honestly I think I did horrible! 😭 I've been reading it over and over and I just think it's bad. As you all know I am a new writer so their is definitely some BAD mistakes and I know it's short but I promise part two will be better!!—•°•°

[gabessquishytum]

Free use dream in a club got me thing about how they would get in that situation...

Dream: i want to be free use!!

Hob: okay fine but one stipulation! I get you first and nobody else can have a turn until im done.

Dream thinks hob is gonna fuck him to make his claim then let him be tied to the breeding bench like the good slutty toy he wants to be for the rest of the night, getting his sloopy cunny pounded by countless strange men who only think of him as a warm hole to stick their cocks in. The problem? Hob is betting on his own stamina to outlast anyone trying to wait!! He'll eat dream out until dream wants to go home or the club closes whichever comes first :) dream is a bit crabby about it but he does have to admit knowing that hob is so possessive over him he would take his "turn" with dream for hours just so nobody else can touch him is sooo hot. He might just have to have hob claim him inside and out and knock dream up about it!!

-🔪

Hnnnng I’m so sorry that this got buried DEEP in my inbox,,, it’s so good let’s talk about it

I’m just imagining the scene… Dream gets stripped down naked and bound to the bench for everyone to see. In the middle of the club’s display area, there’s no way he can hide from what’s about to happen. And there’s a queue building up before Hob even announces that Dream is free to use. Men, women, folks who are both and neither - they all want a piece of him. And they’re free to use him! Just as soon as Hob has had his turn.

There’s a gleam in Hob’s eyes as he settles between Dream’s spread legs. He winks at the audience, licks his lips and he just… goes for it.

After about half an hour people in the queue are starting to get restless. Hob’s head has barely resurfaced from between Dream’s thighs, and when he does pop up eventually it’s just to politely ask for a bottle of water. Dream has cum twice at this point, and he’s fully expecting Hob to switch out with whoever’s next in line, but nope, he takes a sip of water and goes back for more. Dream is kind of getting the idea of what Hob is up to at this point, and he’s decided just to enjoy it. The audience is good enough, even if he’s not getting any of their cocks inside him.

Maybe someone tries to tap Hob on the shoulder and ask him if he intends to move on soon? And Hob waves his hand - doesn’t even bother pulling his tongue out of Dream’s cunt. He’s busy, he’ll be done whenever he’s done. The audience are free to wait or move on, that’s their business. He needs to make Dream cum again. It’s very important.

Another half an hour elapses and perhaps Hob finally stumbles up from his knees, panting and wiping the drool from his face. Dream is a vision, flushed and spread out. The crowd has dwindled a little, but they’re looking hopeful again. Maybe it’s finally time - but no. Hob is unbuckling his jeans and moving in close. He’s the only one who’ll be using Dream’s sloppy cunt tonight, and his is the only cock his slutty little lover will need. He’s got 600 years of stamina on his side, and he doesn’t intend to let Dream rest until the lights turn up and they’re thrown out of the club.

Maybe next time someone else will get to have a turn. Maybe.

[ladylyra]

Do you have any recommendations on how to get more expressive and lively color pallettes? Also, I absolutely LOVE your art! I just saw two of your posts of zacharie and I love them both so much!

thank you so much!!! :") i've been actually been trying to get better with my palettes so i'm happy that they stand out!! i really don't think i'm a good resource for advice (self taught & mostly go off vibes) but i'll try

definitely look into color theory. i don't know if it's actually designed for what art i do but this was a good resource for me. you said you liked the zacharie pics so i'll use it as an example!!

i use different shades within each color but the general idea is that i'm using two complimentary pairings in one piece--red/green and then blue/orange. it makes the entire piece pop. purple/yellow is definitely one of my favorite palettes to do but i have a soft spot for red/green because it's always interesting trying to make really sure it doesn't start giving christmas vibes LMAO. it can get really fun playing around with different shades. color changes the tone of the piece so definitely consider what youre trying to convey when you pick the colors you want to use.

2. i think a level of restriction breeds innovation. you have to do more with what you have. for this piece i reused base colors as 'shading colors' a lot. the poliwag's base blue was also used as a shading color, for example. i think it ties the piece together if colors are repurposed in multiple spots. generally, i personally don't like having too many colors in one design or drawing. if i can reuse a color, i want to. for shading, for convenience, sometimes ill use multiply and overlay layers which increases the color count, but i've been trying to branch out from them more :). overlay can be very useful (as well as some of CSPs other modes) in coming up with very vibrant palettes that you can use as a jumping off point.

3. kinda going off my above point, but this is more about character palettes than palettes for a drawing. if you look at a lot of my oc designs i have a low amount of colors ill use in one character, as well. i do a lot of gijinkas which in a way can pick palettes 'for me' but im also talking about my oc designs outside of that (1) (2) (3) (4) if i have too many colors i almost feel like i start to lose focus. i use complimentary colors a lot. this is honestly a little of a personal preference in how i approach designs (i also don't like designs with too many tiny details so...lol) so i don't know how 'legitimate' it is as advice? but i thought i'd offer it

3. i was so afraid of using bright colors when i was younger because i didn't want things to clash, so a huge part of this is just getting more confidence in the process. i mess around with colors during my sketching process, and treat palette picking as a part of sketching. the zacharie drawing went through like 2 different constantly tweaked palettes. you have to be willing to just throw whatever down at the risk of it looking bad, erase it, and do it again. don't get too attached to anything. don't aim for perfectionism on the first go. i also have this same mentality for just sketching in general. playing it safe can destroy the expressiveness of the piece and the integrity of your vision. you wanna try out some obnoxious neon blue? ok, put it down and build around it. art is meant to express something!! be more confident in what you want to make. if it looks 'bad' nobody has to see it. just keep messing around until you like it, or throw it out completely and go again.

[with-eyes-wide-open]

(4 September 2022)

What is it that I want in my life? Here to paint and make a living from it. Living big. To make that happen in this world, I need to make a business from it. Focus now on making the art. Have got a part-time job and do other freelance odd jobs to cover the basics (soon to be off UC), and can therefore focus on my art making, the technicalities of making it and the development of ideas. In the plan, won’t be at this stage forever. This is laying the foundations. Soon we will progress into the main operational drive. Envisage, realise, promote and sell. Weird that art lives like this. Pure art lives in a vacuum, no need for money. But we need money to survive and have a nice life. Need to support it in the world of money. Wanting to have a nice life doesn’t make me a bad person. Changing the mindset. 

What is your art about? I’m thinking about those moments when nobody is looking, no agenda of control, censorship, manipulation, dominance, subjugation. Thinking about an alternate reality, a dream state where you can exist for no reason. Lucidity because this is real, important, not a fleeting feeling or image, but clear and tangible. Themes of queerness and ecological thought. Nature as a setting to lose the ego, a return to environments which are not dominated by human-centred narratives. Finding unmediated, unfiltered, uncensored states. Swimming, dancing, laughing, sleeping, exploring, frolicking, eating berries, dreaming, creating; activities for letting go. De-centering human experience... Need to think about how to do this: is it compositionally de-centered, the more-than-human having different parts to play (but not just personified, and not ontologically flat), showing activities of the more-than-human (choose things that make us feel silly, like other life forms mating, breeding, spinning webs, tectonic plates moving, natural disasters, fungal networks). Metaphor of water as a way to wash away, heal, generate, regenerate, relate. Painting as an activity of fundamentals, using the earth’s clay, touching something tangible, no to reification and alienation, feeling connected, that feeling of holding your hand out and trailing your middle finger in the water and watching little ripples take shape behind you. Progress other mediums like digital. Explore the queer element more.

Think more about communicating a stronger narrative. Telling a story, following tradition of art up until twentieth century. Aware of resistance of this with formalist ideas so use of coded references (accessible despite coding). Use form to tell the story, creating compositional movement in brushwork, designed shape, line. A visually stimulating image “before it is a picture of a battle horse, a nude woman, or some story, [since it] is essentially a flat surface covered in colours arranged in a certain order” (Maurice Denis, painter and writer, Definition of Neo-Traditionism, 1890). Avoidance of universal truth in images... are we still in the post-modern age? Escape agenda, pair with a silly irony.

How I’m feeling now? Positive, in control of what I can do today. Rested. Ready to go. Distractions removed. 

Thinking about, when I have about 8 big paintings finished, working on a painting a day. Push out the ideas and see what happens. In the same way I write everyday and see the ideas come out, some of them shitty, some of them great, approaching painting like this will be nice. Writing feels like I’m resting. I can complain, listen to myself, set myself up for the day, dream, create, be silly, be serious. If painting is my natural state, it’s only fair to myself to fully embrace it. Get out of my own way.

Met some people we might possibly live with. Not feeling it though. They were nice. But I think I’ll be wasting energy on trying to be a good fit for them. Like the idea of moving somewhere slightly further away but well connected with the Elizabeth line, closer to nice studios. 

Had a vision that I was directing a photoshoot to get reference photos for my paintings. I was, at the same time, singing, mixing and playing a keyboard, like on Top of the Pops. The models - I saw so many people I knew there - were dancing, laughing, dancing in the rain. Beautiful colours. Muted silvery greys with sharp flecks of colour!

Today, going to push on with the Lily painting. I have a plan, a general colour palette. To be honest, I might change it. I think I’m going to make it greener/bluer, more purple at the end of light masses.

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

No one else for me- PJM

Pairing: YANDERE! Park Jimin x fem reader.

Word count: (I'll be adding my Word counts from now on) 4.7k words.

A/N: I was writing something for Helsinki and suddenly this stupid little idea hit me like a ton of bricks. What if MC had managed to escape her yandere, but quickly found there was no one waiting for her outside. How'd she go back to him? Because isn't the feeling of being loved and belonging somewhere strong enough to override the sense of independence in the best of us? I'd love to know what you think about the matter.

Warnings: (Buckle your seatbelts) NSFW, smut, yandere, obsessive behavior, MC is definitely sick mentally, so is Jimin, marking, use of sex toys, degradation, oral M receiving, orgasm denial, crying during sex, toxic relationship, rough sex, creampie + unprotected sex, breeding kink (unexplored).

Feedback on my works is alwayss appreciated. Send in an ask, leave a comment or let's talk in reblogs 💜

Find my MASTERLIST.

To read the teaser for my latest WIP, press here.

Shout out: My wonderful @bebejungkook for reading this through when I was half asleep and probably didn't even remember what I'd written. What would I do without you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't believe you were back here again. The driveway you had run down barefoot, stubbing your toes and cutting your feet, stretched in your vision now, at the end of which the pretty little house sat, it's lights twinkling. Warm and inviting.

Safe.

You had always been safe with Jimin.

So why had you taken the risk and brought down the entire wrath of Hell upon yourself and run away from him?

Run back to what?

Your sister Lisa? Who had inherited whatever funds your parents had saved for both of you and gone to Europe, all in the span of the three months Jimin had kept you here?

Your best friend Tannie? Who you had called the second you had succeeded in borrowing a phone from an older man at the bus station, and she had slammed the phone in your face, claiming it was a sick prank call and that you were dead, she was sure of it?

Or did you perhaps run away to find Kai again? The man who had wooed you once, with empty promises and massive claims. Claims of love and devotion. Whose lingering kisses were what you had felt every time Jimin had pecked your lips. Whose fleeting hands were the memory that had kept you sane when Jimin's hands had roamed over the same places.

Only that, Kai was engaged now.

To a woman you had never seen, never heard of, never wanted to know.

The two nights you had slept on some park bench or the other had gifted you many things. Back pain, beautiful black circles under your eyes, with bags and swelling to match, and a devastating ache to just be held in those strong arms again. To be claimed by those fierce lips that never hesitated to mark you as his every time he felt you needed reminding. To the safety of the four walls of Park Jimin's house.

Because the world had forgotten and forgone you.

Nobody cared about you. Especially not the people you had risked your life for. Hell, even the little kids that had walked past you this morning on their way to school, had offered to treat you to some ramen, which was much more that your best friend "forever" had bothered to do.

And so, the gatekeeper's wide eyes didn't faze you as you stood in front of him. "Is Jimin home?"

He merely nodded. You weren't asking for much more.

"I'll find my way to him myself, thanks." You mumbled, entering the property, a fool's hope for forgiveness in your heart.

4 knocks in quick succession.

Silence from the inside.

You heard the intercom beep from the kitchen.

The gatekeeper was probably telling him about the sick excuse of a human the cat seemed to have dragged in.

A shuffle of footsteps.

The door opened.

There he was.

Jimin.

But he looked different too.

His arms were folded across his chest. His eyes were cold and indifferent.

Or maybe they'd always been this way?

No they hadn't. Not to you. Never to you. He loved you...

Right?

"Jimin..." You half whispered, the tears swiftly rising to your eyes.

There it was. The crack in his ice.

When his hands reached for you, for the first time ever you reached back. When he pulled you inside and slammed the door behind you, you didn't wince. When his lips slammed down on yours, you kissed him back with the same fervor, shaking in his arms, refusing to believe you were back here.

Your tears wet his cheeks, causing him to growl and pull back. He cupped your cheek, a hair too harsh maybe, but as possessive as ever. "Where did you go off to, my sweet girl?" A murmured question.

"Jimin, I- I..." There were no words to justify your betrayal, the way you had hurt him, and you knew it.

But to him, your lack of words only confirmed that you hadn't betrayed him on your own accord. You would never leave him like that. You were his sweet girl, his little pet, his ray of sunshine.

His angel.

He'd burn the whole world that had wrecked you to the woman that stood in front of him. After he had spent so much effort to make you the prettiest doll he had ever had, seeing you this battered sent his entire body burning in the hottest flames of anger.

The tears never ceased. The sobs refused to quieten.

You hugged yourself, even more scared now that Jimin wasn't saying a word, now that his hands had dropped to his side.

Your back hit the wall, and you slid down it, body shaking, and lungs screaming for air.

"They've all forgotten me. They don't love me. They don't love me..." You repeated to yourself, more to drill it into your own head rather than his.

You looked up at him, with glistening eyes, "No one loves me."

He knelt down to your level, easily taking your hands in his own, a sick satisfaction settling into his gut at your words, and the ease with which he was able to touch you just now.

"Don't say that pet." He wiped your tears.

"It's true." A shudder ran through you.

His hand roamed lower, now resting against your neck. "I do. I love you. I've been telling you for so long haven't I?"

"You still do?"

Your innocent, soft question had his dick twitching in his pants. It was a question that surrounded all your insecurities at that moment, and he was well aware of it.

"Do I still love you, after you hurt me like that? Tell me y/n, do you deserve to be loved after stabbing my back like that?"

It was a rhetorical question.

Of course you didn't.

Of course he hated you now.

Of course you had lost the last seclude you had.

You shook your head no. You understood what was happening.

Park Jimin wouldn't take you back.

You were actually, utterly alone in this world now.

You bowed your head and took a step towards the door.

Jimin's vice grip closed around your forearm in a flash and the next thing you knew, you were being slammed against the wall, his hand at your throat, his face just a breath away from yours.

"No you don't. But you know what? I'm a stupid idiot. I'm such an idiot that I still want you. Even though I spent the last two nights crying at your betrayal, and even though I haven't had a bite to eat because you weren't at the table with me, I still want you." He growled, his chokehold on your airway tightening deliciously, possessively.

Your heart tore at his words. You felt even worse, knowing that you had caused him that much suffering. When all he had ever done for you was keep you safe, loved and tended to.

Of course Jimin was lying through his teeth. He knew you'd come back to him. He had made sure of it. But you didn't need to know that.

"I'm so sorry Jimin."

"Sorry won't cut it doll. Do you want me?" He asked, matter of factly.

" Yes" you whispered, " I want you, if you'll still have me"

The erection in his pants was straining against the fabric by now. His sickest fantasy was being fulfilled just like that. He had finally broken you. You had finally, willingly admitted that you wanted him, and more than that you had asked if he'd still have you.

Did you really have no idea what you did to him?

He let go of your neck, and pulled back.

So he didn't want you?

Your breath left you. This was the proper end wasn't it?

And then his hands were on your waist, and you were held against his chest, your lips claimed, your breath stolen and the soul breathed back into your limp body.

Wordlessly, Jimin pulled you towards the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Strip." His command was short and authoritative.

And you were only willing to comply.

You pushed your shirt off, making quick work of the trousers you were wearing, leaving you effectively half naked under his gaze in the span of half a minute.

"My good girl, come here." He beckoned.

He slipped the straps of the bra off your shoulders littering little kisses over the slowly fading marks he had left on your soft skin the last time he had taken you.

And then he pulled it harshly, the clasp in the back breaking and the piece of clothing falling to your feet. You gasped.

"On the bed."

And on the bed you were.

"You're being so good aren't you love..." He said absent mindedly, drinking in the image of you leaning on your arms, waiting for him.

You nodded meekly, the only thing occupying your mind being the thought that you had to please him.

Jimin made his way to one of the drawers in his dressers. Your heart thudded, knowing what was coming.

Soon enough, you saw the little devilish device in his hands.

It was one of the more intricate sex toys Jimin owned. The curved C shaped silicone device had two heads, one that would go inside you, and the other one that would rest on your clit.

He had used it just once before on you, and you had thrashed and begged him to stop. He had been trying to get you to break that night. But today, here you were, already broken and eager for him.

"Will you let me take care of you then?" He asked. "Will you let me see just how sorry you are?"

"I'm so sorry." You repeated, your hands outstretched to him.

He bent over you, kissing your forehead as his palm cupped your sex. "Show me how much." He whispered against you.

You bucked your hips against his hand and he hummed appreciatively.

"Take off your panties."

And so they came off. There was not a resistive bone in your body right now. What Jimin wanted, Jimin would get.

"Spread your legs for me."

He gently prodded your clitoris, the shock of his movement rushing through you exhilaratingly.

"Ohh" you gasped.

That was all the consent Jimin needed to begin the abuse his fingers were capable of, to your pussy.

In almost no time, you were soaking his fingers in your juices, your lips pressed against each other and chest heaving.

When he was content with how wet you were, he withdrew his hand, just for a second before landing a sharp smack straight on your sensitive, swollen lower lips.

A cry tore out of your chest.

"Such a bad girl, running away from Daddy like that."

"I'm sorry."

Another slap that had your arching your back. "How sorry?"

"So, so sorry Daddy. It was a stupid thing to do."

He hummed in agreement. "Yes it was doll. Why did you do it?" His hands weren't just good at delivering slaps, they were also giving such heavenly soothing touches to ease the torture he was putting you through.

"I thought I had someone to go back to." Your tone was void of emotion, causing Jimin to almost swell in happiness.

"And was there?" A finger eased into you.

"No." You whimpered.

"It seems like my princess's adventure taught her many things. But haven't I been telling you the same things all along? Shouldn't you have listened to me?"

You whined, the unsatisfying stretch of a single finger buried inside you, making it hard to focus on his words. You nodded.

"Did you see that piece of shit you said you loved?" Suddenly he sounded cold and distant. He took his finger out of you and pulled you to sit up and look into his eyes. "Did you see how easily he decided to marry someone that was not you?"

A fresh stream of hot tears made it's way down your cheeks.

"How could he settle for a cunt that wasn't yours. How could he miss out in this sweet pussy and marry someone else if he loved you?"

You had nothing to say to that. You only listened to his mocking, dying inside.

" I bet his bitch isn't even half as good as you. I bet he'll wish he took you at the chance he had...but it's too late. You don't love him anymore, do you angel?" He cooed.

You shook your head. But then what were these tears?

" DON'T cry for another man in front of me you little slutty bitch!" Jimin yelled, pinching your clit so hard, you flinched and curled in on yourself, whining like a hurt dog.

" My baby, my baby... My precious, precious girl." And just like that, Jimin was pressing kisses against your lips and mumbling sweet words into your mouth, graciously granting you two soothing fingers into your aching hole.

" Jimin" you whispered against him. He pulled away, cocking his brow. " Please fuck me." You requested, your cheeks blazing hot.

" No baby. You need to be punished." He said decisively, " Come on, get on your knees." He scooted to the edge of the bed, ignoring you till you had followed what he said, busy undoing his belt buckle.

But then he remembered something. "Wait...come stand in front of me, let me look at you."

You stood up, and stood awkwardly in front of his keen eyes, that were focused on the wetness against your thighs.

"You'll let me use my little toy on you today right?" He asked, though it wasn't even a question, both of you knew it, because his thumb was already parting your wet folds and his other hand held the contraption close to your opening.

The overload of all the emotions and sensations had you trembling, but Jimin thought you were scared. "It won't hurt sweety, just part your legs a little and trust me."

Soon enough, the little bulb was sitting inside your pussy, your walls sucking in the cool silicone.

The sensation was a little triggering, but you bit your tongue and waited for Jimin to adjust the second part to his liking.

"Such a good girl for me." He praised, kissing across your pubic bone. You felt yourself relax. He wasn't all that mad was he?

But as soon as the little head sat right on your bundle of nerves, there was a shift in the air.

"Okay, back on your knees." He commanded, pulling out his erection and pumping himself a couple of times.

You didn't like giving head. You hadn't been especially fond of the idea ever, but in the early days of your captivity, Jimin had made you suck him countless times, so the act was especially traumatic.

But for now, all trauma was chucked out the window. The only man in the world who actually cared for you, needed your mouth. And so he'd have it.

You opened up, slipping his dick inside your mouth.

Jimin gasped in satisfaction at the willingness and the warm, wet, welcome feeling.

Soon enough you had found a rythm, bobbing up and down his entire length, your tongue caressing all the angry veins along it, as if you were trying to soothe the anger you knew he held inside him.

You had almost forgotten the device that sat inside you, but Jimin wouldn't let you forget. He had the remote right in his hand, and as soon as you closed your eyes and hummed around his dick, he turned it on to it's lowest setting.

Even though the vibrations weren't strong, the shock of the unexpected movement had you letting out a muffled squeal against his cock.

"You're not gonna take your pretty mouth off me. If you do, I'm not gonna fuck you. You don't want that,do you?" His tone was sickly sweet.

You shook your head vehemently. You didn't want that at all.

And so, you forced you wits to gather, and breathed through your nose and continued sucking his dick, until his hand came and cupped your cheek, then landed a little slap against the bulge of his cock against your cheek.

" My eager little slut aren't you?"

You hummed in agreement.

He laughed. "You look so pretty like this baby. My dick stuffed in your mouth and your eyes all big and pretty like that"

A spike in the vibrations to your core, and you clenched around the toy, aware of the wetness dripping down your thighs.

" Are you wet?"

You nodded, holding his eyes as you stopped your movements for a second to look at his blown out pupils. His eyes looked fucked out yet his face was firm and stoic. Ever the dominant.

"Will you feel yourself and let me see how wet?"

Without hesitation, you led your fingers straight to your gushing core, and gathered some arousal on them. You held up your gleaming fingers for him to see, kitten licking his tip softly as you examined his reaction.

Jimin wordlessly took your hand, licking your fingers clean and humming in satisfaction. The hand he had in your hair, gathering it away from your face, now came lower and rested on your shoulder. "Keep going" he whispered and shut his eyes, leaning his head back.

You added both your hands to the equation, pumping him and making a sloppy mess with your mouth as deep, pleased breaths left his parted lips.

He looked heavenly. Raven hair ruffled by the hands he'd run in it, eyes closed and lips parted slightly and you thought just how good he must feel if the rock hard member in your mouth was anything to go by.

But one thing did bother you. The weak vibrations that were doing nothing for you except make you a leaking mess.

You called for him, the words muffled with the way your mouth was occupied.

His hands cupped your chin, looking straight at you and easing you off his dick. "What do you wanna say so bad little pet?"

"I- need to feel you. I need something..."

"My little fucktoy needs something to fill her holes?"

You nodded, cheeks blazing red at the names he called you, but also at the admission you gave him.

"Aww baby. So needy. But this is about me. This is you making up for making me sad." He said, the evil glint in his eyes lost to your misery.

Exactly then, Jimin increased the level of the vibrator a couple notches. You jumped, a new gush of arousal leaking out of you, a soft scream of surprise to match your wide, big eyes.

Jimin laughed.

"Make me feel good, and I'll fuck you so good you'll forget how to breathe. I promise."

If there was one thing about him that was permanent, it was the fact that he kept his promises. Stomach doing back flips at the promised pleasure, you cupped your breasts and brought them closer to his twitching dick. He watched in anticipation, as you placed it between your breasts, cupping them together and began sliding them up and down his length.

"Oh God..." Jimin leaned back again.

You let him fuck your tits like that for long enough that you felt your arms starting to tingle. Jimin was uncharacteristically quiet too. A chill ran up your spine. Were you doing something wrong?

"Jimin...?" You called.

"Yes love?" He raised his head, his face quite the opposite of what it had been earlier. His eyes were soft and his little smile was warm.

"Can I kiss you?" You ventured.

A confused little frown formed on his forehead. He still couldn't believe you were being this good.

But in reality, you really wanted his lips on yours again. Suddenly, it felt like his kisses were a drug and you wanted to envelope yourself in it. He'd make you feel okay.

You'd be okay with him.

You'd be loved with him.

And so you had to kiss him. You had to.

He leaned forward, tantalizingly close to you. You wasted not a second longer, raising a shaking hand to dive into his hair and pulled him lower, capturing his lips in a grateful sigh.

Soon, he had taken control of the kiss, but also of the little remote, his wild fingers twisting it all the way.

You gasped, unable to understand the strange tightness in your gut suddenly and unable to pull away from him. Struggling a little you finally pushed his chest and whimpered, "It's too much. I-- can't...ohhhh fuck" you gasped, painfully aware of the double stimulation the device gave you.

Jimin didn't respond. He knew you'd take it. You had to take it. You were his little pet, you'd do anything he wants.

And right now he wanted to make you cry again.

The familiar but unwelcome tingling crept up your spine as you curled into yourself, the strange pleasure coarsing through you, aware of the orgasm that was rushing to you like a freight train.

"Jimin, I'm gonna cum" you breathed, holding yourself, his pleasure forgotten.

No you weren't. He'd edge you till you sobbed.

And as soon as your thighs clenched and your eyes rolled back in pleasure, he turned the vibrator off.

A wave of disappointment racked your body as you shook with the force of the release that never came.

"No!" You cried out.

"Did I fucking tell you you could cum?" He asked, his tone deadly.

Shit. You fucked up.

"I-im-" you gasped.

"Yeah, yeah you're fucking sorry, get on the bed" he rolled his eyes.

Eager to comply, you scrambled up.

Jimin lifted you and placed a pillow under your hips, thrusting your pussy upwards towards him.

His fingers carded through the soaking lips.

"This pussy...is mine. Okay?" He looked at you sharply.

You nodded.

And then the device was back on, straight to the highest setting eliciting a scream of oversensitivity from you.

You clenched around it, the contraction pulling the device in slightly.

The high you had just recently lost came almost rushing back.

"Oh my fucking Godddddd!" You screamed.

" That's right, let me hear you scream." Jimin sounded pleased.

You bucked your hips upwards, craving some friction to the overwhelming pleasure you were drowning in.

"Jimin, Jimin…Jimin please" you gasped as the coil in your stomach twisted and almost came undone.

Almost.

Because the device was switched off at that moment.

"No, please!" Tears leaked past your lashes.

"I thought I just said this was my pussy. And nothing will make you cum if it's not me." He sounded wounded, as you looked up at him through your blurry vision.

"You won't fuck me though" you ran an exasperated hand in your hair, "I want to cum, please Jimin please just fuck me. Please let me cum."

Oh he was having the time of his life!

"Oh baby" he cooed. "All you had to do was ask" Before he unceremoniously ripped your legs apart and yanked the device out, making you whine and shiver in sensitivity at the loss.

He lined himself up to your opening.

"You're mine okay? Anytime you wanna be filled with cock, you come to me. Got it?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

And then he was inside you. His thick cock ripping you open and remoulding you again behind it. The stretch that had felt foreign and forced all this time felt like Heaven. Your mouth dropped open as the deepest moan left your chest.

"Fuuuuuck!" You groaned.

He seemed to not be in the mood to set any pace. Instead, he just rammed into you at speeds that made the fucking vibrator look like child's play.

Your swollen clit screamed for attention but you were so focused on simply breathing through the whole thing that there wasn't much you could do.

His thrusts were pushing you up on the bed, and for that, he grabbed onto your hips, his fingers harsh, his force bruising.

"Look at you, bouncing on my dick like the brainless little whore you are!" He grunted, his nails clawing down your thighs.

You arched your back, every sensation amplified.

Moans of his name fell from your lips like some sick prayer and twinkled in his eyes. He was loving this so much.

" I'm close…so close" you grunted and immediately he slowed down a little.

"No Jimin, please!" You cried

"Patience little doll, we have a lesson to teach you." He drawled.

You looked at him, tears brimming past your eyes, expectant and aching.

" You're not stepping out of this house again unless you're on my arm." He said.

You nodded, immediately. You weren't planning on it.

"You're never thinking about leaving me like this again." He rocked his hips against your sensitive walls. You whimpered.

" No, I won't." You agreed

"What a princess." His pace increased a little.

"Whose princess are you?" He asked.

"Yours." You said lowly.

"What's that?" He rammed into you forcefully, grabbing at your ass.

"Oh God!! Yours!" You said much louder.

"Who makes you feel so good?" His hips were almost fluid in their assault.

"You do!" Tears fell onto your cheeks. It was true, you felt so good.

His thumb came upon your clit, playing with it lazily, as if he wasn't ruining your pussy at the same time.

"Let's repeat that lesson huh? Whose princess are you?" He punctuated each line with a blow to your cervix it felt like, sending forth a gush of your juices with a squelch. It was straight up filthy.

"Yours!" You replied, your orgasm finally across the corner again.

"That's right!" He bent over you, hitting a whole new angle, making your shut your eyes and arch your back, your tits rubbing against his chest. "Mine! Mineminemineminemine!" He grabbed your chin, "Say it!"

"I'm yours Jimin, I'm all yours. There's no one else for me, please please I'm yours please let me cum" you cried just as he wanted.

A bruising bite was felt just above your nipple and you knew your body was about to become his canvas again. But it had felt good.

"Cum for me." He ordered.

You nodded, a little immersed in the whispered praises he was kissing and sucking into your skin.

And then he bit your nipple, his thumb coated in your slick, vibrated furiously over your pearl and his dick rammed into all the crevices of your pussy that was made for him.

And you were cumming so hard, that you felt your breath stop, just as he had promised.

Your mouth hung open as your body thrashed and shook, clearly in the battle between life and pleasure.

Jimin's soothing hand flicked your hard nipple. "My little pain slut, all mine, all mine forever" he reassured himself before he crashed onto your mouth, invading the space like it was his property, which it was, and in a few moments, he was spilling his thick, hot load straight into your womb.

He held you against him, because he needed to feel you just as much as you needed his comfort.

"I'll take care of you baby. I love you, I always will. I'll love my little y/n, she doesn't need anyone else" he mumbled, half knocked out, into your hair.

You, who were just as exhausted if not more, nodded, still gasping at the little flutters your walls would do around his dick, still in you, holding his seed inside you.

[jeonggukkiepabo]

HWASAN [MYG] 🐉

SUMMARY: Yoongi, the only dragon hybrid to exist, has done a lot to escape the life he has been put into. He killed those who held him just to run away, to have the chance of living a life he’s been longing to have for years. Even after switching continents, they seem to be after him, hunting him. When he meets you, he knows you’re one of them and there’s only one way to survive - to kill you.

GENRE: smut  🐉 angst  🐉 action  🐉 fluff-ish

WORD COUNT: 11k

WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder and blood, violence, Yoongi rides a motorbike, cursing, blowjobs, fingering, Yoongi has claws and fangs, temperature play, his cum tastes different, choking, fighting for dominance, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Yoongi is stubborn but soft, fox hybrid!taehyung and i’m so soft for him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is finally here, my part of The Hybrid Collab! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to post this after months of planning. I think everyone agrees with me that the thought of Dragon!Yoongi is too much to handle. I had this idea in my mind for as long as Daechwita has been around now-it just took me a while to write it sksks.

I’d also love to thank  @spicykoreantatertots​ & @yeojaa​ for betaing this fic and helping me with it.  @kimtaehyunq​ Mags, tysm for designing this beautiful banner for me! Also; thanks for listening to my rambling and keeping up with me and this fic. It was so much fun cooperating your Taehyung into it, I love him. :(

NOW LET’S GET STARTED.

Running was all Yoongi had done for months now.  Running away from those he killed.  Running away from those who wanted him to get killed.  Running away from those that held him ever since he was little, that taught him how to fight and kill. Running away from those that made him a murderer. Running away from Kkangpae.

Yoongi hates running (especially running away), but he had no other choice. He had to leave his home country behind and never go back, finding himself a new place to live instead. He should feel guilty,  he regretted all his actions but by now, he only feels relief. 

Kkangpae treated him like a fucking animal, like a worthless pet. He wasn’t treated like any human being should be treated; he didn’t even have a real bed.

All because Yoongi was a dragon hybrid, the rarest hybrid species on earth. 

The lack of volcanoes in South Korea were the reason why Yoongi was highly valuable to the Kkangpae, because active volcanoes were one of the requirements for dragons to get born. As far as Yoongi knows, there’s only one volcano in South Korea: Ch’uga-ryong, a volcano that hasn’t been active for around five hundred years. 

Around that time, the dragon species became extinct due to a natural disaster that Yoongi didn’t know anything about - because he was still sleeping peacefully in his comfortable egg, buried deep beneath the lava. 

Yoongi’s mother, a purebred dragon, died during the catastrophe, and she was not able to protect the egg. Because of this, his body was not able to develop the way it should have. His egg was found hundreds of years later by scientists. They used newly invented technology to develop the preserved egg and mix human genes into it. Shortly after that process was complete, Yoongi hatched.

Yoongi has never met another dragon hybrid in his life. Maybe he was the only one in existence, maybe other scientists created them the same way as he was created. Even if they existed, they’re probably held the same way he was held - captured by some sort of underground gang and treated like shit.

Yoongi hated it, hated the way he wasn’t even a real creature, that he was built instead of born and that he was sold to Kkangpae to be their guard dog. Even though he was a dragon, well he was supposed to be a dragon, those fucking scientists pulled some weird Jurassic Park shit on him. Did humans even believe in dragons? To most of them he was nothing more than a myth, some creature from a fairytale.

Yoongi almost screams in frustration as his memories hit him once again. The night he decided to end it all, to kill everyone he finds comes back into his vision almost every time he closes his eyes. Because hell, he was a great fighter, the best assassin anyone could ever train and he never failed an attempt of murder. Ever since then, his nights are based on either nightmares or hectic rides on his bike, this is why he lives on coffee and energy drinks even though they're too sweet for his taste, they keep him awake. If he stops to sleep, the memories, the dreams will return in full force.

During that time, Yoongi tries not to stop in motels because:

1. he can’t afford them

2. he shouldn’t waste time on sleep if he can spend them driving down the highway on his motorcycle instead, getting as much distance between South Korea and himself as quickly as possible.

As a dragon hybrid, Yoongi has several magic powers that typical hybrids don’t have, simply because his body doesn’t work like other hybrid bodies; he is born a dragon. Most of his genetics are dragon-like even though he’s now trapped inside a mostly human body. The only features that give off his inhuman origin are his eyes, green and purple irises, swirling around like lava, never resting. Some scales are splattered around his skin, but almost all of them are well hidden under his clothes - and Yoongi is glad that he can hide that feature because of the weird looks he would get if he had scales on his face or hands; no thanks.

That, and the fact that he can extend claws from his “normal” fingernails, which is quite useful in fights… and during other situations. 

One of Yoongi’s biggest advantages is the ability of changing his body temperature to the extreme - whether it’s hot or cold. If he wanted to burn you, he could; if he wanted to feel cold as ice, he could do that as well. He used that power a lot back when he was a little dragon, not wanting to be touched by humans that didn’t have his trust - not that any human has ever earned his trust - so he easily increased his body temperature until those who touched him left with blisters all over their hands.

People always think that dragons have the ability to spit fire, but apparently dragon hybrids can't. All Yoongi was able to do was spit acidic saliva with the ability to burn through all kinds of fabric and material (he even melted a spoon once because he hated the soup he had to eat) and whenever he was really angry, smoke would blow right out of his nostrils.

Kkangpae should’ve known better than to train him until he was invincible. Until he was stronger than them, until he was able to ruin them one by one.

It didn’t even take Yoongi an entire night to kill those who had held him his entire life, which made him Kkangpae’s enemy number one. He obviously didn’t get to kill each member, but he managed to ruin the leftovers by killing their boss, his wife and brother. The golden three, no longer golden anymore.

Which meant one thing: running away. Leaving South Korea with nothing but his motorcycle and never, ever, coming back. Yoongi doesn’t know if he will ever get to settle down somewhere or even where to go next, he just knows that he will never be able to come back to where he originated.

He has been in the United States for almost three months now, after secretly hitching a ride on a very disgusting container ship. In the beginning, he didn’t know where his adventure would bring him, but he has seen some beautiful places here. Yoongi even visits some of the biggest volcanoes in the country (he hates the volcanic mountains in Alaska, though, because the air outside is colder than what he is used to and Yoongi hates the feeling of icy air after a nice long nap in the comfortable lava) to spend some time relaxing his sore muscles. He just left his favorite volcano ever, the Yellowstone in the Rocky Mountains, a week ago and he really misses napping there, but if Kkangpae would ever look for him in the US, volcanoes would probably be an obvious spot to check for a dragon hybrid.

Now Yoongi is here in a cute little suburb that he doesn't even know the name of. Small droplets of rain are blocking the view from his motorcycle helmet and his gas tank is on low, so he decides to stop by the next available gas station and grab some hot coffee on his way to the bordering highway. 

Yoongi didn't bring a crazy amount of baggage from Korea, because it's obviously difficult to ride a motorbike with an abundance of luggage. Instead he sticks to a simple black backpack with some clothes, money that he stole from Kkangpae, his phone, and an old notebook he uses to scribble down places he’s heard of during his trip. 

Even though the gas station is quite empty, Yoongi acts out of instinct and pulls his cap lower into his face, hiding his shimmering eyes and starts to fuel his tank, looking around to check if someone has recognized him. Nobody catches his attention, until a girl on another motorbike stops to get some gas as well. Yoongi scrunches his nose, thinking that his bike was the only one in a suburb like this - because to be honest, he spent a lot of money on it, on spraying it matte black (instead of the bright teal it had before he ran away) and a bigger engine. It isn’t one of the luxurious Korean brands, but a MV Agusta F4 LH44, an expensive ass bike that Kkangpae gave him for jobs out of their area.

This girl though, she rides a fucking Kawasaki Ninja, one of the fastest - and most expensive - bikes out there. He only has eyes for her machine, but once she pulls off her helmet letting her messy hair fall over her back and turns around to the gas pump, he inhales sharply.

She’s Korean. She’s fucking Korean and she rides a fucking expensive bike.

To Yoongi it can only mean one thing: Kkangpae. But, would they really send a girl after him, a powerful dragon hybrid? Probably not. The girl hums some unknown melody as she fuels her bike, looking around as well. Yoongi makes sure that she doesn’t catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns around to pay. 

But the girl is right behind him, he can feel her body temperature on his sensitive skin and as he walks past her, he can smell something vaguely familiar. That’s when he decides to pull off a classic Joe Goldberg, waiting for the girl some streets down the road and follows her as inconspicuously as possible.

The girl comes to a quicker halt than Yoongi is expecting - simply because he didn’t like to stop more often than necessary -, but he’s quick to park his bike and follow the girl into the establishment she walks in. Bread, Sweets and Treats, says the small sign and Yoongi cringes. Who would come up with such a name? Is the owner inspired by this one Korean band that has a track with a similar name? Yoongi shakes his head to get rid of the distracting thought, instead putting his cap back on and stepping into the café.

She is nowhere to be seen, probably sitting in some booth further back, but as soon as Yoongi attempts to stride through the café, the girl behind the counter smiles at him.

“Hi, I’m Yura! What can I get you?”

He really wants to reply with “nothing.” But the smell of coffee lingers in his nose and who would Yoongi be to decline such a chance? “Just one regular coffee, black, please.” 

He pays quickly, just slapping some notes onto the counter as he looks around once more.

“There’s a few empty tables in the back, go and sit down, relax a bit and I will be there with your coffee as soon as possible!”

That finally gives Yoongi the chance he’s been waiting for, strolling through the café to find the mysterious girl and once he has an eye on her, he sits down three tables to her right. She’s on her phone, taking sips of some hot beverage but takes nervous looks around the café from time to time and Yoongi wonders if she has seen him as well.

“Your coffee!” The barista smiles at Yoongi and places the hot mug in front of him. “Are you sure that you don’t want anything else? You look quite tired and I bet some pastries can help with that!”

Yoongi tries to crack a smile, but he knows people are most likely afraid once they lock eyes with him, but it seems like that his eyes aren’t anything that scares the friendly girl as he mutters a soft “I’m fine, thank you.”

He dares to take another look to his left, a silent gasp leaving his lips. There, on her right arm, is a tattoo of a dragon crawling up to her elbow. The symbol of Kkangpae, inked right into her skin. Yoongi’s assumptions were correct, she is one of those bastards and the only reason she’s here must be to kill him. But Yoongi isn’t one to have that, he’ll be quicker.

Patience is key, he reminds himself as he slowly sips his coffee, keeping an eye on that girl as he thinks about that one night again.

Things happen quickly then, the girl stands up and leaves to go to the restroom, but as soon as Yoongi plans to follow her, an elderly lady goes in there as well.

He sighs, pulling off his cap just to run his hands through his hair before quickly putting it back on, covering his eyes as much as possible. The hunter's knife in his boots feels heavy, ready to be used, but Yoongi doesn’t want to make a scene right here. It would cause more trouble than being effective - and he couldn’t find out more about Kkangpae’s plans in the middle of a café. On the other hand, Yoongi can’t risk losing her, that’s why he acts out of instinct once she comes back from the bathroom.

She makes her way past his table, Yoongi stands up quickly to follow her - and once she’s near the exit, he jumps onto her, slamming his full body weight against her smaller frame and smashes her into one of the tables, the wood breaking under their combined weights. His claws are out and he can feel his skin burning up during his rage as he snarls a low, “What’s your name? What are you doing here and where are the others?” at her. 

She must be a tough one though, because even if she’s scared, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she glares up at him. “Why would I tell someone that attacks me in the middle of a coffee shop my name? Fuck, get off of me, you freak! What even are you?”

Yoongi smirks, pushing her even further into the remains of the table. “Min Yoongi, I think I ruined a bit of your family business.”

Now, her eyes widen in shock as she tries to get out of his burning grip around her throat once more. “You don’t have to kill me”, she whispers. “I don’t belong to them. Not anymore. After you killed my father and my uncle, I knew it would be the best to get out of it as well, trust me!”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back - and it looks kind of funny, because there’s a little cloud of smoke coming out of his nose - before looking back down at her. “I’ve learned one thing in my life and that’s to never trust anyone. Especially not when they’re wearing that cute little dragon tattoo on their arm. Sorry, but I guess you have to die too.”

An annoyingly high-pitched scream causes Yoongi to lose his guard for one second, giving the girl the chance she needs to break free from his grip. "Stop it, please," one of the baristas pleads, trying to calm some of the nervous customers down. Yoongi looks at him for a second, smirking as he sees the obvious features only mouse hybrids have.

The dragon hybrid snarls, showing off some of his sharper teeth as he grips his target again. "Don't you dare make a scene, mousey. It's been a while since I had one of your ancestors for lunch, you know? And I haven't eaten in quite some time." Then, he turns around to the girl. "I'm sorry love, but this situation is getting a bit out of hand." He uses his foot on her chest to keep her in place as he grabs his favorite knife that's been sitting in his boot the entire trip, just waiting to be finally used.

Fate isn't on Yoongi's side today as another one of the baristas yells at him, running past some other tables to get to where Yoongi is standing. Yoongi groans, pressing the heel of his foot deeper into the girl's chest. "You stay there, little one, okay?" She doesn't answer, just grits her teeth to compensate for the ache in her body. The mouse hybrid freezes on the spot, staring at the scene in front of him. Then, Yoongi turns around to the new voice. "What do you want now, I'm busy and I really need to go after this, so would you let me do my job, please?" The irritation isn’t easy to miss, but Yoongi's patience has always been rather low and he prefers to get over this before the rest of Kkangpae arrives as well. "I don't belong to them anymore, fucking hell!" The girl yells once more, nails digging into Yoongi's jeans-clad calf.

“I’m the manager,” the other barista slash manager says, “You have two seconds before I call the police. Get the hell –“ Yoongi gets ready to leave yet another snarky remark as a rather lean looking guy pushes her behind his frame. 

“I’ve heard rumors about your existence, I was skeptical about it – but anything is possible from where you came from.”

Yoongi’s eyes scan the stranger, thinking about how high his chances are to win another fight when he realizes that he’s one of the rarest hybrid breeds, not a regular fox but a canadian marble fox - which are often held for their beautiful fur. He has been living with one of those in the Kkangpae mansion, the fox hybrid was more likely the opposite of Yoongi’s reason to be there: Yoongi was being held to fight, the fox was a lapdog, bought to look pretty in the leader's wife's lap.

The man in front of him has similar ears, grey with black tips and his amber eyes remind him of the old fox as well. Yoongi tilts his head in visible confusion as he locks eyes with the man.

“I’m not one of them, my name’s Y/N! I’ve heard that you killed my father, my uncle and his wife so I used the chance and ran off, I didn’t know I’d see you here as well, Yoongi! Please, just fucking listen!”, the girl, Y/N, pleads with tears brimming in her eyes. 

“Yoongi, is it? Listen. You can’t do that here, I know what you did to those who held you, but this isn’t the right place!”, the fox hybrid chimes in again. Yoongi’s head moves up and down, he doesn’t know who he should listen to, but he came for this one mission: killing Y/N.

“Shut up, all of you!” He screams out of frustration, the knife starting to melt in his hands because of the unbearable heat radiating from his body. Yoongi drops the now useless weapon to the floor, the weight of his boot no longer suffocating the girl beneath him. She coughs a few times, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, trying to relax her wildly beating heart, but Yoongi doesn’t care about her right now. Instead, he locks eyes with the fox hybrid. “Who are you?” His voice is low, quiet, actually, because Yoongi doesn’t trust it enough to speak up.

“I’m from the Kim lineage”, the hybrid says with raised hands, probably to prove that he’s no danger to Yoongi. “Trust me, I know a lot about our individual histories.” Yoongi breathes through his nose, another tiny cloud of smoke leaving his nostrils as he finally steps back from Y/N. “Kim, as in Kim Jiho? That can’t be it. You’re related to him?” 

He eyes the other man skeptically, not really sure whether to believe him or not. He doesn’t even look at Y/N who’s been standing but not running away yet. 

The other hybrid's answer shocks Yoongi, his eyes widening as he sees the frown on his face, combined with soft ears flopping down sadly. "That's my father."

The woman behind the Kim hybrid whispers something into his ear, causing the man to nod as he looks back at Yoongi, but aIso at Y/N. "Let's just take this outside, we can talk out there." 

Yoongi's eyes flicker between the hybrid and Y/N, then he nods slowly whilst pressing out a low "fine". Just as Y/N starts walking past him he grabs her wrist and pulls her closer, whispering into her ear. "If you try to run off, I'll be right behind you, ready to rip your guts out." As if to prove his point, Yoongi heats his skin up once again, burning Y/N's wrist before smiling sweetly at her and following the fox hybrid out of the café. 

The hybrid, who introduces himself as Kim Taehyung, offers refuge to Yoongi and Y/N at his secret bunker in the nearby mountains. He uses the space to hide during emergencies. It isn’t anything special, it is a literal fox burrow with furniture which totally confirms the impression Yoongi has on Taehyung’s style: simple, yet elegant.

Yoongi is even allowed to eat some of Taehyung’s self grown variety of exotic fruits that he is extremely proud of. He smugly offers a dragon fruit to Yoongi who only raises his brows, a challenging glint to his eyes as he grabs some of the lychees instead and pops them into his mouth. “But you’re supposed to peel them!”, Taehyung screeches, his furry ears twitching in disgust, but Yoongi only smiles and eats one more, swallowing the entire fruit just to see Taehyung’s reaction once more.

“My saliva is acidic, I don’t need to peel them. I’ve been eating worse things, trust me.”

After Taehyung shows Yoongi and Y/N around the bunker (it even included a shower and a functional bedroom), he decides to call it a night and leave the two alone (not without them promising Taehyung to not kill each other, he would “check in the next day” to make sure of it) and heads over to his own little cabin nearby. Once Taehyung leaves, Yoongi pulls Y/N onto the worn out couch to actually sit down and talk.

“Okay, so you say you’re running away from Kkangpae too, right? Why?” Yoongi raises the eyebrow that was cut through by that ugly scar. 

Y/N swallows, trying not to stare at Yoongi’s distracting eyes. “I was born into it, I didn’t choose that life, Yoongi. Just like you I was just a part of their game. I’ve seen people die since I was a kid. I’ve never been allowed to have friends or sleep somewhere else because my father was too ‘worried’ something could happen to me. That’s why one of his coaches trained me in different kinds of martial arts from the time I was able to walk.”

She looks at the hybrid again, shaking her head in disgust.

“Of course I knew what was going on with them, why they were behaving like that and I knew that my father and uncle were the leaders, so there wasn’t any chance for me to get away from it. I tried, really, but once I found out that they got killed... I didn’t know you did it, because the second I heard it, I ran. You can trust me, Yoongi, even though my last name might be occupied by all your prejudices.”

Yoongi listens the entire time, not interrupting her as he tries to understand what she was saying. “I’ve seen you when you were a teen”, he mumbles. “I age differently than humans, but I think you were just around 15 years old when you kicked that one security guy in the balls. That was kind of badass, not gonna lie,” Yoongi smirks at her, eyes glistering mischievously. Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “He liked my dress way too much. One more reason not to wear those weird things at all.” Yoongi hums. “I bet you look great in those, but I do like your leather pants too. Anyways, what leads you to the US? It’s not the most… unusual choice to run away to. Wouldn't a country like Greece or Egypt be better? They must be looking after you too. I tried hiding in volcanoes but it was too obvious.”

The girl shrugs her shoulders, shivering now that the evening starts to settle in. “I don’t know, to be honest. All those countries sound nice and fun, but I don’t speak their language. America is huge, too. I wasn’t planning on staying in this town, but now that I met you, I mean… We could run off together, maybe? I can fight and I know how to use a gun and I’ve heard of your… powers, too. You might know how they fight, but I know how they think. Us teaming up would be useful.” She shuffles around, unsure about how Yoongi would react. 

“Are you cold?” 

“What?” 

This wasn’t the reaction Y/N was waiting for. “Are you cold? You’re shivering. I’ve never used my powers in this way, but maybe I could help you,” 

Yoongi shrugs as he slowly touches her arm and attempts to heat up his own skin in a way that wouldn’t hurt the girl. Y/N flinches at first, but the temperature heating up her body is too comfortable to deny.

“Oh god, this is amazing,” she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “I haven’t been this comfortable in a while.” 

Yoongi nods, he understands that. The bunker is the first place he might be able to actually sleep. “I’ve been sleeping in volcanoes, like I said, but I haven’t really slept since I left the last one. Not that anyone could come in it and try to kill me, but after two days of sleeping and soaking in lava, it got boring.”

“I wouldn’t even mind bathing in lava as long as it’s this comfortable”, Y/N whispers as she drifts off into a deep slumber. 

Once she’s asleep, Yoongi removes his hand slowly and looks around to find a comforter to throw over her relaxed body. Then he decides that he finally deserves the luxury of a real shower, with real hot water (that he heats up even more), before snuggling into the bed and closing his eyes for at least a few hours.

The next few days went by like nothing, Yoongi and Y/N weren’t really ready to go outside and face the world, so they stay inside the bunker to plan their getaway. They go out twice, practicing their fighting skills and helping Taehyung to pick some fruits (because Yoongi felt bad, he ate the entire mango stash in one night).

This evening, Yoongi prepares some food that he finds in the cupboards, some pasta and a canned sauce that he heats up in his hands, not bothering to put it onto the stove. He’s at the point where he decides that Y/N deserves his trust, that she won’t kill him and he’s pleasantly surprised to have someone like that in his life. 

Y/N steps out of the shower, towel wrapping around her delicate body as Yoongi plates the food on the makeshift table. 

“I swear to you, my muscles are still sore from your training yesterday!” She huffs as she searches her backpack for fresh clothes. “Can I grab one of your shirts? One of us has to do laundry tomorrow, I’m going to ask Taehyung how he’s doing it when he’s out here. But for now, I need something comfortable because I can’t squeeze my tired body in leather pants and a tight tank. So, please, Yoongi?” Y/N smiles her sweetest smile, causing Yoongi to groan out, defeated.

“And what am I supposed to wear tomorrow? My old stinky one that I sweat into during training?” He raises the scarred eyebrow at her as he sits down in front of his own plate, starting to eat already. 

Y/N pouts as she grabs one of his last clean shirts and runs into the bathroom. When she comes back, she’s wearing that shirt - and only that shirt. Yoongi almost drops his fork.

It’s not like those movies where the girlfriend wears her boyfriend’s shirt and it looks cute and stops above her knee, no. Yoongi isn’t the tallest, Y/N’s actually almost the same height as him - with more curves than Yoongi's lanky body. Instead, his ‘oversized’ shirt ends just a bit below her ass. Yoongi would bet that if she bends down, her entire peach would be on full view for him.

“Aren’t you going to wear any pants?” Yoongi mutters. To be honest, he hopes she won’t opt for pants because… he’s just a man and even his dragon instincts think about sex from time to time.

“Is it bothering you?” Y/N asks as she plops down besides him, starting to eat right away as well. 

There isn’t much space between them and Yoongi can see her hardening nipples under the shirt that once belonged to him. He shrugs. “Nah, but don’t come ask me to heat you up just because you’re freezing your ass off again.” 

She quirks an eyebrow. “Would it bother you? Heating me up?” 

“Probably.”

Y/N pouts and turns away slightly after she throws a blanket over her legs, continuing to eat her pasta. “How long are we going to stay here? We planned to leave for Italy, but when? It’s getting colder each day and I don’t like that winter’s coming.”

Yoongi stands up to go and wash his plate, not sure about the answer to Y/N’s question.

“There’s nothing holding us here. We could go and leave tomorrow, but we could also stay for a few more days, try to get enough sleep and take advantage of this bunker. I mean, would we get the chance to have such a perfect hideout again? Let’s use this opportunity for as long as we can.” 

Inside, Yoongi knows that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wasn’t ready to face the world, not ready to be on the run again. “How much money did you take with you? Wherever we decide to stop by next, we should think about a way to earn money.”

 “I left with my card and packed some money from the family’s safe before I realized it isn’t that smart to run away with my credit card that could be tracked. I withdrew some more money and gave the card to a homeless lady,” Y/N shrugs as she dries the plate Yoongi has washed before placing it back into the cupboard. “I think I still have around 10 grand in my backpack, I really don’t know. I didn’t need a lot of money, most of it was needed for gas and coffee.” 

“You’ve been travelling with 10 thousand in cash? That’s kinda stupid. What are going to do if someone tries to rob you? Ugh,” Yoongi can feel the smoke leaving his nostril as he paces through the room, feeling restless out of sudden. 

Y/N giggles. “Are you worried? Min Yoongi, the baddest dragon alive is worried about a girl that grew up with Kkangpae and definitely knows how to protect herself.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose, already feeling his skin heat up - but not in the magical way he’s used to. Nope. Min Yoongi is being shy. 

“You are worried! How cute! Are you sure you’re a dragon and not just a little lizard? One of those that live in the fields and kids go and pick them up to have them as a pet in some shoeboxes?” Y/N steps closer, gently bumping her hip against Yoongi’s before patting his head with a giggle. “Who knew that the bad boy that’s one of the most powerful human beings is getting soft over a girl.”

Enough’s enough. Even though Yoongi never had the chance to fall in love, to be in a relationship or build a real friendship, he has had more than enough experience in other things, having shared ruts and heats with countless other hybrids that has some sort of place in Kkangpae. He turns around, his instincts taking over him.

Puffing out his chest a bit, standing completely straight so he will hover over Y/N, Yoongi steps forward, breath fanning over her face. “Did you just call me a fucking lizard?”

His eyes are going wild right now, the purple and green swirling around even faster than the usual soft flow of colors. He growls, stretching his neck from side to side as he starts to feel his fangs growing, soon poking out of his lips. 

Y/N smirks, tilting her head to the side, looking up innocently at the fuming dragon in front of her. “Too bad you can’t change forms, huh?” She doesn’t even get to add another snarky comment to her sentence as Yoongi’s body presses her against the rough wall, his shirt sliding up her body as he cages her in.

“You’re acting like an ungrateful bitch, Y/N. Even got to wear my shirt like you’re someone that actually means something to me, yet you’re being bratty and annoying. I don’t hesitate to get rid of people that act up on me, you should know that by now.” 

His hot breath fans her face and Y/N tries her best not to squirm under his intense glare. Then, she smirks. “You wouldn’t kill me.” 

“Mhhm, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Still, you’re being bratty and I don’t appreciate such behavior.” Yoongi looks at Y/N, eyes still intimidating her. 

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me?” She laughs, knowing that situations like this only happen in those new adult novels, not during an escape.

“I should, but maybe you won’t be able to keep up with it. In the end, you’re just human whilst I’m nothing more than a cute little lizard, huh?” Yoongi looks at his hands, claws forming where his fingernails once were. “I don’t remember lizards being able to hurt you, though. Wanna try?” His smirk is dangerous, but so alluring that Y/N just nods, not knowing what the night will bring for her.

Once they move to the makeshift bedroom, Y/N’s knees start to get weak. Yoongi feels the change in her aura, smirking to himself as he stops right behind her, hot breath blowing on her neck. 

“Is there anything you don’t like, Bambi?” His fangs gently poke the juncture of her neck, not enough to actually draw blood but to make her twist under his touch.

“I don’t think so, I mean… I guess I like… Yoongi, can you stop that for a second, please?” She turns around in his grip, cheeks blushing and lips parted. Yoongi cooes.

“This turned on already? Can’t even form sentences? Alright, I’ll sit down then and you’re going to tell me what I’m allowed to do to you,” Yoongi smirks as he slumps on the mattress, manspreading to give Y/N the best view of the bulge in his pants.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sinks down between his legs, a dangerous smirk now lingering on her lips. “Maybe I’ll just show you what I like and you can take over from that? Figured you’d be one that prefers to be in control. I’ll go by the traffic light system if I’m not okay with anything - or I’ll kick you in the balls, so don’t worry.”

Yoongi doesn’t even bother to answer as Y/N presses her mouth against his clothed dick to kiss it lightly. His hips buck slightly as she wraps her lips around him and starts sucking on the side of his bulge through the fabric. She smiles as his cock grows harder under her lips, but Yoongi is quick to pull her off. “I really appreciate your effort but are you down there to drool all over my pants or are you going to suck me off? I promise you my dick is human, not one of a lizard.”

She pouts, playing with the hem of his joggers. “Where’s the fun in that? But fine,” Y/N rolls her eyes and pulls them down slowly, her nails gently scratching the skin of his stomach while doing so. As the waistband of his pants go past his cock, she is not even surprised that Yoongi isn’t wearing any boxers underneath them. 

“Predictable,” she mutters mostly to herself, but Yoongi grabs a bunch of her hair to push Y/N back on his, this time naked, length. 

It costs her a lot of self control to not retort him with a snarky remark, as she continues to remove his pants slowly. Yoongi growls, but she just smiles up at him and grabs his heavy dick to stroke it two, three times. Then, she leans down to gently lick his balls, still not using her mouth on his dick.

Yoongi twists and groans, trying his hardest not to grab her and shove his entire length down her throat until it’s sore, but this woman is testing his patience. One of his hands is still on the back of her head whilst he uses the other one to lean back a little, just to get a better view.

“Are you done playing now, Petal?” Yoongi’s grip on Y/N’s hair tightens, his claws digging into her head - and Y/N can’t keep in the silent mewl that leaves her lips at the burning pleasure. “Be a good girl now, will you?” His voice is almost alluring her to do as he pleases, but Y/N wouldn’t be herself if she follows his orders. 

Their eyes meet and Yoongi has to admit that she looks perfect. Even though she isn’t wearing any make up right now, hair still damp from her shower and eyes already clouded with lust, he wouldn’t want any other person to be in her position right now. 

She stares at his cock again, her own panties dampening at the thought of having it inside her. Y/N’s tongue pokes out to play with his tip, tasting him and getting a feeling for the heaviness on her tongue as Yoongi pushes her down in one swift motion. A gurgling sound escapes from Y/N’s throat, but she does her best to swallow his huge length, using her fist to stroke whatever can’t fit. 

“Oh, shit,” Yoongi groans and throws his head back while trying to keep his eyes on Y/N at the same time. Her eyes are closed, lips beautifully parted around his cock and saliva already drips down her chin, even though Yoongi hasn’t even really moved by now. “You’ll let me fuck your mouth, right, angel?” 

She nods as good as she can with a mouth full of dick, looking up at the hybrid in front of her. Yoongi hisses as he pushes his hips forward, losing himself in the feeling quickly as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. The sight of Y/N not only sucking him off but also wearing his shirt sends him close to edge quickly.

Y/N pulls off to take a deep breath and to wink at Yoongi before sinking down again. 

"God, you're so good, Petal. Wanted to fuck that bratty mouth for so long now. Imagine your father seeing you like that, he'd die from the shock, his little princess on her knees to please the housedragon." 

She moans at his words, fingers sIiding under her, Yoongi's, shirt, but the man is quick to grab both of her hands to cross them behind her head. He grabs her wrists as he plunges himself down her throat once more before he spills his hot load into her mouth with a loud growl a bit of smoke that comes out of his nostrils.

As Y/N pulls off, her eyes show the disbelief she must be feeling. "You… You taste like…" 

"Cinnamon?", Yoongi smirks, his eye color now much calmer than before now that his inner dragon is somewhat sated - for now.

“Yes, I was expecting anything, a double penis, maybe some weird forms or scales, but not cinnamon flavoured cum. Not that I mind, though. Tastes like that gum I used to have when I was still in school.”

Yoongi hums, stepping out of his pants now that they won’t be used anyways, his shirt following too.

“Now it’s your turn, petal. Let me see you,” he gestures with his fingertip, swirling in a motion for her to turn around, finally giving Yoongi the view that he had been curious about ever since Y/N came out of the bathroom with his shirt on. She isn’t wearing one of those expensive lingeries that are nothing but lace, no. Expensive, yes. A sporty looking string is disappearing between her round buttcheeks, the rather thick waistband of it covered with the Versace logo. Yoongi hums, that’s definitely what he had expected Y/N to wear, it looks comfortable but still seductive.

Y/N smirks over her shoulder, lifting the hem of her shirt teasingly but letting it fall down again to cover her butt. “Maybe you need privileges to undress me, Min. I mean, I’m somewhat of royal blood, aren’t I?” She gracefully sinks down onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

A chuckle leaves Yoongi’s lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want me to call you princess now? Because I didn’t know you were into that. Does babygirl also do the thing for you? I bet your blood’s blue too, I’d love to see that.” 

Yoongi traces his finger tip over her thigh, his claw teasing the soft skin there and Y/N’s eyes follow it curiously. He presses down a bit, just enough to break the first layer of skin and draw a little bit of blood - enough to prove both of them that Y/N’s blood isn’t blue. “Oh, too bad, not a real princess,” Yoongi pouts. 

Y/n raises her eyebrow. “Did you just cut me?” 

“It’s not a cut, just a little… poke?” Yoongi wipes over the blood before bringing his finger to his lips and licking the drop off with a smirk. “Doesn’t taste royal to me, rather muddy. But maybe that’s what you get from living with Kkangpae for so long. Guess mine tastes like dirt too.” 

Y/N laughs, not even shocked about the fact that Yoongi seems to  be bothered about her blood on his tongue. The melodic sound of her laugh makes Yoongi smile too, an actual, honest smile that shows all his teeth and fangs, causing Y/N to coo. “And suddenly you don’t look scary anymore.”

Her eyes wander down his body, inspecting every inch, maybe to find something more dragon-like, maybe to just remember the skinship for much longer. “Oh,” She breathes out, “You’ve got scales.”

Yoongi looks down at his stomach where some scales are shimmering in the bedroom light. “Yes, I do have scales. I’m a dragon, remember?” 

And to Y/N, they’re beautiful. They’re not huge, not as dry or disgusting as lizards look like, no. Those scales must come from a line of beautiful dragons. They match his eyes, shimmering purple and green whenever they hit the light. But they’re not only on his stomach, they are also winding around his sides and up his back. 

Y/N’s fingers follow them as she orders Yoongi to lay down on his stomach to get a full view of them. 

The scales grow larger on his shoulder blades, probably where his dragon wings imaginely would be and Y/N can’t help but kiss the rough texture. Goosebumps erupt on Yoongi’s entire body, skinship like this was never a real thing for him. 

“Feels good,” he whispers into his arm, slightly ashamed. Y/N continues to pamper his skin in kisses and licks, biting the rougher areas here and there until Yoongi grows impatient and turns them around, growling playfully. 

“Like I said, my turn now.”

Yoongi always has a thing for taking his time to please his partner, he isn’t one for quick fucks without foreplay. So, he kneels between Y/N’s parting legs, palms caressing the smooth skin that is covered in a few fresh cuts and old scars from practicing her fighting skills, but Yoongi definitely didn’t mind them. His shirt has moved on its own, not even covering her panties anymore but ending somewhere above her belly button by now. As soon as his fingertips glide over the curve of her hips, Y/N shudders with a quiet mewl. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm, ‘m here, you look so good, Petal,” Yoongi whispers while kissing her ankles, her calves, and the sensitive area of her inner thighs. “Truly like a flower. You know that there’s a flower called Dragon’s Breath? It’s bright red and can survive in the heat like a champ, even their leaves are red. But I don’t think it’s scent comes close to yours,” he hums in front of her clothed core, tongue poking against the wet spot on the fabric. “Bet you taste even better, Petal.”

“Yoongi, please,” Y/N whines, getting rid of the shirt by herself, the heat simmering inside her body is almost overwhelming. Yoongi looks up from the space between her legs, eyeing the swell of her breasts with a growl, muttering compliments again and again. He sits up the slightest bit to gently remove her panties - claws nowhere to be seen by now, even his fangs are gone and Yoongi’s just Yoongi, even though the arousal is visible in his eyes again. 

He lies down, cock rubbing against the rough sheets causes him to hiss quietly, but his mind is somewhere else within seconds. How couldn’t he with Y/N’s soaking core in front of his face? 

She can’t see his mischievous smirk as he swiftly controls the temperature of his skin, cooling down his fingertips as he slowly and teasingly traces her folds. 

Y/N yelps. “Yoongi! Shit, what’s that?” 

Yoongi laughs, holding up his unoccupied hand to her face, showing her how cold his fingers are by holding them against her cheek whilst the other hand works magic on her clit. 

“Unbelievable. Warn me the next time,” she mutters as she sinks back into the pillows. 

Yoongi’s hot breath fans the sensitive area before he broadly licks right across the flesh, enjoying the way her body jumps out of surprise again. “Oh, oops.”

Then, he finally pushes one finger in, tongue pressing right against Y/N’s clit as he starts doing what it feels like he was born to do. Yoongi eats her out with no mercy. Ignoring her squirming body and needy whines, he only concentrates on the places that bring the loudest moans out of her, massacring those until she’s close - to stop with a smug smirk. 

Y/N could reach her high by just looking at his face, red and breathless, but also wet from her juices, lips glistering in the light. Two of his fingers are still inside her, teasing her G-spot just as his lips start sucking the life out of her clit again. 

Y/N’s hands are buried in his chaotic mess of hair, pulling on it but also pressing him further onto her core until his tongue slips inside her as well. She doesn’t warn him, too scared of missing another orgasm, but Yoongi also doesn’t look like he’s about to stop this time, eager to pleasure the woman underneath him. Y/N screams as she reaches her high, hips bucking up from the bed, Yoongi’s head going with it, just so he can make sure that every second of her orgasm will be remembered forever.

He kitten licks her folds as she calms down; stroking her thighs, kissing her stomach while whispering praises. “Fuck,” she rasps out, her stomach still heaving heavily. 

Yoongi crawls up next to her with admiration in his eyes as he leans over to kiss Y/N for the first time. She can taste herself on his tongue, but who cares? The kiss is more gentle than Y/N expects. Yoongi seems to be switching moods from hungry to loving within seconds, but that’s probably his inner dragon wanting to devour her whilst Yoongi just wants to take his time to make the night special. Y/N is the one to pull away, looking at him with dark eyes. “Get inside me, please.”

The hybrid smirks, tilting his head as he asks “How do you like it?” 

“I’ll show you,” she remarks as she pushes Yoongi to lay flat on his back. She climbs into his lap and sinks down onto his cock in one abrupt motion without even bothering to tease him. 

The pleasure is overwhelming; Yoongi stretches her so, so good and Y/N feels so, so warm and tight around Yoongi that he loses all of his control over his body. His eyes are bright purple now, pupils forming into slits that remind Y/N more of a snake than a dragon. His skin burns up, almost too much for her to bear, but the hissing noises Yoongi releases are enough to hold on through it. 

“Fuck, sorry, wait a second,” Yoongi tries to push her off so she can cool down a little bit, but Y/N just shakes her head. She shushes him with a gentle kiss, careful of the fangs that now poke out between his lips again. “Don’t hold back, it’s not hurting me. Be yourself, Yoongi. I trust you.”

Yoongi curses under his breath as he tries his best not to move, letting Y/N adjust to his size and the circumstances of his inhumane origin. He’s never fucked a human, and even though they’re not that much different from hybrids he knew that he didn’t want to hurt her. 

“It’s not only the temperature,” Yoongi groans, “I tend to bite and mark my partners. I don’t know how your body would react to it, though. I sometimes say or do things that my human side would never say.” 

Y/N smiles at him, fondness blooming in her heart as she starts swaying her hips slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Like I said, Yoongi, I trust you. I’m sure that you’re inside your inner dragon, that you won’t hurt me and even if I tell you to stop; you’d be able to. Now, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy while your dick is inside me?” 

She tilts her head with a playful smile as her hands glide down Yoongi’s toned chest, teasing his perky nipples and playing with his beautiful scales. It was still hard to believe that the rarest, most powerful hybrid was right here with her, laying underneath her, sharing this moment with her.

“Now come on, Yoongi, wake up the dragon and give me what you’ve promised.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, hands landing a firm grip on Y/N’s hips as he plants his feet firmly on the mattress before quickly pistoning up inside her. Y/N cries in pleasure, but Yoongi almost doesn’t hear it, too lost in the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock. He’s still trying to be careful, keeping his claws under control so he won’t actually tear her apart. 

“‘m gonna make you cum so good, Petal. So, so good.”

Then, he flips them around in one swift motion, hovering over her frame as he looks down at her like only a predator could. “Mine,” he snarls as he licks into Y/N’s mouth, hips moving slowly but so powerful that her body pushes up into the pillow with each thrust. “Say it, Petal. Say you’re mine.”

Yoongi grabs her face so she can’t break eye contact - not that she would, who could look away from such eyes? They’re hypnotizing and Y/N is sure that she will do just about anything for him right now.

“I’m yours, Yoongi. It’s just you and me right now,” she breathes out as she grabs his hair, pulling his head closer so she can connect their lips once more.

Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, his orgasm approaching, but he didn’t want it to end just yet. Of course, dragon stamina is different, but where would be the fun in that? Orgasm control and denial is a thing that Yoongi enjoys here and there, teasing himself whilst masturbating, not letting him or his partners come and delaying their pleasure for as long as he possibly can. That’s why he pulls out quickly, leaving Y/N’s core clench around nothing. 

“The fuck, Yoongi?” Y/N whines and glares at the man in front of her, eyeing his sweaty body.

He laughs and presses a quick kiss to her lips before he sits back on his heels, staring at her body as well. Her chest is heaving, fine pearls of sweat dripping down the space between her breasts and her legs are slightly shaking - all of that is enough to boost Yoongi’s confidence as he quickly pushes two of his fingers inside her, pumping them at a rapid pace. His teeth - and fangs - nibble on her nipples, pulling them slightly, almost crossing the border of comfortable pain as he fingers her through her second orgasm of the night. 

“Do you want to kill me?” Y/N sighs as she catches her breath, knowing that Yoongi is not done with her for tonight. 

He laughs again, fangs shining in the light and tiny droplets of sweat fall out of his hair as he shakes his head. “I could, but where would be the fun in that? Or are you one of those girls that like the thrill of almost being killed? I could choke you if you’re into that.”

“Oh, I am into that, but not after orgasming two times and knowing that there will probably be two more coming. Is that one of your kinks? Choking?” She tilts her head in an adorable way - too adorable for the position she’s in right now. 

“Mhhm,” Yoongi hums whilst tracing the sensitive skin on her stomach. Y/N jumps slightly, shooting Yoongi a playful glare before quickly jumping onto him. She sits down on his abdomen, leans over and closes her hands around his throat. “Do you like being choked too?” 

“Can you handle me fighting back against it?” The challenge shimmers in Yoongi’s eyes, knowing that Y/N is nowhere as strong as he is, but he loves playing. He doesn’t mind if she wants to be on top, he enjoys losing control once in a while, but his dragon usually hates it, fights against it.

Y/N loosens the grip of one hand to slowly rake her fingernails down his chest, leaving visible lines. “I’ve never said no to a good fight, Yoongi.”

The hybrid growls, hands balling to fists as Y/N tightens the grip on his neck once again. 

“This is so hot, you’re so hot,” He whispers, eyes closed and lost in the feeling.  

Then, Y/N lines herself up with Yoongi again and sinks down slowly, gasping slightly because the stretch is still there, but it feels so good. “God, move, please move,” Yoongi rasps and who would Y/N be to deny him such a thing? She uses both of her hands to sturdy herself on his chest whilst quickly bouncing up and down his cock. The noises that Yoongi makes are music to her ears, he’s usually so quiet, but now he doesn’t even try to hide the pleasure he’s feeling.

He groans, grunts, hisses and even moans whilst his hips buckle up to meet her thrusts. “Fuck, I’m going to breed you so well. You’re mine, Y/N. Gonna be my mate, huh? Gonna carry my chicks, all beautiful and round.”

Y/N’s eyes widen at Yoongi’s confession, but she can’t deny the arousal that floods through her body with his words. “Yes, Yoongi. Fuck, yes, breed me.”

By now the biggest roar leaves Yoongi’s chest as he pushes Y/N off, to grab her hips and position her on all fours in front of him. A harsh slap lands on her ass as he pushes in again, pressing her face-down into the pillows. “I will, Petal. You could never want anyone else after being mine. Nobody else. Just me.” 

His hand finds its way into her hair, wrapping it around his wrist as he pulls her head back, having her at full mercy. 

They’re both a loud mess by now and Yoongi is fucking thankful for the bunker, because imagine if they’d go on like this in Taehyung’s cabin instead - the entire forest would be able to listen to them. 

It’s gross and sweaty, wild and not gentle, but both of them enjoy it way too much. 

Y/N can’t even warn Yoongi before her third orgasm washes through her body and the tight clench combined with her sinful moans sends Yoongi over the edge too - spilling his thick load into her with one last thrust. 

“Shit,” he groans as he collapses on top of her, pressing kisses all over her neck. “You were so good, Petal.” 

Y/N smiles, nuzzling back into him and closes her eyes to enjoy the comfortable post-sex silence. Yoongi hums quietly, giving the two of them time to cool down - he helps her by reducing his body temperature again -, then he pulls out. “Ew,” he mutters as his cum gushes out of her. 

“Creampies are hot whilst you’re still busy with fucking, but afterwards it’s just a gross mess. Wanna take a shower?”

Y/N’s way too lazy to shower right now, she’d die for a hot bath but the bunker didn’t give her any chance to fulfill that dream, so she just nods. “Mhm, yes, but you’ve got to carry me, you big lizard.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows before sighing in defeat. “Guess I’ll need to show you my dragon once again.” He lifts Y/N up easily and carries her towards the bathroom, just to have her at his mercy once more. And this time, Y/N doesn’t argue about him being a true dragon. 

Days and nights go by quickly whilst Yoongi and Y/N grow closer each passing minute. 

They spend their days together training, teaching each other self defense tricks and talking about which places they want to travel to next. 

They do sleep together now, not fighting over who will get the bed and who will have to stay on the couch. Some nights are a bit colder, which gives Yoongi the opportunity to hold Y/N close to his chest while slowly heating himself up to a comfortable temperature to sleep in. In general, you could say that Yoongi and Y/N act like a couple - though they don’t talk about their feelings right now.

Yoongi has never been in love and neither has Y/N, Kkangpae hasn't given them any chance to find a suitable partner to spend their lives with. So how would they know if love is what they are feeling?

What Yoongi does know is that he’d protect Y/N with his life - and vice versa.

Cuddling on the couch has become a thing for Y/N and Yoongi and he hates being unsure about the whole situation, he didn’t want to label them, but he is itching to know what’s going on between them. So one evening after dinner, he blurts out “Are we in a relationship? Like, are we a thing now?” 

Y/N jumps slightly in Yoongi’s embrace and looks up at the hybrid, unsure. “I… don’t know? I guess you could say so, we do a lot of couple things, I mean last night when you ate my..-” 

“Oh, yes, I remember. That was fun!” 

Yoongi smirks at the memory of last night’s bedtime adventures, Y/N trapped underneath him, her legs wrapping around his head as he ate her out slowly and teasingly, before he just pulls her on top of himself to sit on his face. Now he has not only her pussy in front of him, but also her ass - and what kind of man would Yoongi be to not use this opportunity?

“I mean, I would… I would like to be in a relationship with you, Yoongi. I trust you, I really like you and I feel like we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together anyway,” Y/N looks at her hands and bites her lip in anticipation, fearful about the man’s answer.

“That sounds like you’re choosing to date me just because I’m the only man around you, Petal.” 

He gently grabs her face, giving her no chance to break the eye contact. This time, the green in his eyes is more prominent than the purple - a rare sight, but Y/N is still in awe. “I want you to choose me because you actually like me, Y/N. Not just like, but maybe even love me. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, there can’t be love between us for now, but I can say for myself that I am really close to loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life running away with you, not just because I have to.”

Y/N pouts, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at Yoongi. “I didn’t mean it like that, Yoongi. But if you’re asking this charmingly, yes, I’d like to date you too, you big baby.” Yoongi growls playfully, showing off his fangs - which he knows that they don’t scare Y/N at all, but he’s proud of them, so he shows them off here and there - and pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips. 

Feelings change kisses. Kissing somebody that you’re now dating is even better so the new couple spends minutes kissing each other carefully and lovingly. Yoongi is just about to get Y/N on his lap as the door bursts open and an out of breath looking Taehyung stands in the living room.

“Yoongi… They’re here… Rats, but they smelled weird,” the hybrid pants as he looks at Yoongi. 

The dragon just stares at Taehyung intensely, before nodding. “Thanks, man. Really. For your help, for letting us stay here, take care of yourself, okay?”

All of them know that it’s now the time for Y/N and Yoongi to leave, not coming back ever again because Kkangpae would always have their men here from now on. 

“Thank you, Tae,” Y/N bows slightly with red cheeks, still embarrassed that they got caught. 

“Good luck, guys.” Taehyung sends them a hurt smile, knowing that he and Yoongi could actually be friends if their lives were different, but now it was time to say goodbye so Taehyung turns around and leaves as quickly as he came.

Yoongi sighs as he stands up and starts gathering their things. “Time to pack. You’ll do the bedroom and I’ll collect our stuff from here, okay? I think the next stop will be South Africa, it’s a long trip but it’ll be worth it, Kkangpae would probably never search for us there.” 

And so, they do end up in Kenya almost two weeks later, the US long forgotten as their lives go on. 

The trip is actually fun, Yoongi and Y/N riding on their motorbikes - Yoongi is even allowed to ride hers for a short amount of time - taking the ferry instead of the plane and sleeping at random places in the countries they passed.

Kenya is beautiful, the temperature is perfect for Yoongi and he finally gets the glow a true dragon should have. He doesn’t look as pale anymore, random scales growing here and there on his arms and neck and Y/N has never found Yoongi to be more beautiful. He seems truly happy.

The couple even started to go out, visiting different National Parks and trying to find some volcanoes for Yoongi. Y/N knows that she could never go near an active volcano, but Yoongi swears that he needed them at least once every two months to keep his dragon alive - though Y/N thinks he wants to take a long nap in the lava again.

During their time at the Masai Mara National Reserve they met another hybrid, a rare persian cheetah by the name of Hoseok. He greets them with open arms and is friendly enough to show them around. 

Hoseok also gives them a perfect description of how Yoongi would find the only active volcano in South Africa on Marion Island. That’s where the couple is right now, Y/N swimming in the turquoise water around the island whilst Yoongi takes, to no surprise, a nap in the lava. 

They’re genuinely happy, living more relaxed and peaceful than ever before and once Yoongi wakes up from his nap and sees Y/N still swimming around, playing with little fish and looking as beautiful as ever, he just knows that he made the right decision. She’s the one he wants to spend his life with, have kids with and die with.

They have a good feeling that Kkangpae won’t find them here. This can be their home from now on. Though, they wouldn’t mind the chance to discover more of the earth, travel around and meet new people. 

But South Korea isn’t on their list, that’s for sure. 

[d6rkroom]

— ‘𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼.’

finn mcnamara x top!male reader. (wc; 1.7k)

#a/n: this took way longer than it should've, my apologies fer’ that! BUT THANK YOU ELIAN FOR GIVIN’ ME THE GENERAL IDEA FOR THIS, I HAD A TON OF FUN WRITIN’ IT! YER’ BIG BRAIN AS HELL!

warnings. forced breeding, dubcon, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, degrading k., dumbification, brat taming, sex infront of a mirror, manhandling, belly bulge, cum inflation, implied mpreg.

it was expected, it was only a matter of time before his olden behavior caved in on him and he relapsed right back into those sickly habits from nothing more than a year prior.

finn mcnamara was a slut. a dirty, good for nothing cheater. you knew his loyalty was short lived— his drive for exploration and choas secured that lucid notion in your brain ever since the two of you had started your dating journey.

how naive were you to untrust your heart with him, so utterly idiotic.

there you were, fingers curled around the doorknob as you lay in wait for your boyfriend to take note of the new presence clouding the room. your face was sheathed in coats of not shock, nor distaste— just inflicted with an expressionless disappointment. whatever bit of rage that fogged your mind swiftly dissolved along with his sexual mate that accompanied your spot on the bed.

nonchalant as ever, he sent a sloppy smile your direction; probably as a result of whatever poor pounding he just received from the rather small looking guy who was just in your room. pathetic, he couldn't even wait a few hours for your attention so he tossed aside his pride and let his greedy hole get creamed by someone at least half your size.

“satisfied with yourself, whore?” a satirical snear contorted your lips. one he knew a little to well, one he could tell apart from your usual one. the one you would often flicker as the two of you conversed. he knew you loved him, as did he; yet, the outcome of pushing your buttons was one he couldn't shake the craving for.

“hah, as satisfied as ever— sweetheart.” his first mistake was underestimating your tolerance for his bullshit. the second was letting that sour chuckle rip past his throat.

he was already exposed, clothes abandoned along side his dignity. letting such a inexperienced and second option hook-up ruin his beautifully stretched hole was baffling to you. was he really that desperate to have his ass filled and feel full for the remainder of the evening? you already knew the answer to your own inquiry.

he sputtered out a few words that glazed past your ears and straight out the back of your head. you had no care to hear any other soft attempts to convey how what he committed was mistake or how his body was now yours for the night. you had tunnel-vision set on his spend, plump ass that was already wiggling in the air— contrast from his cheek, which was pressed into the matress.

you give a harsh smack on the milky flesh, making finn’s lower half jolt in retaliation; halting his train of thought and stopping his tongue mid monologue. his hands instinctively sink into the pillow beneath his neck. you shift your weight, prying his thighs apart and spreading his cheeks wide open; the perfect view. the head of your cock, flushed red and throbbing gives a few pokes at his pulsating rim which is already venting around nothing.

you give his hole a few, firm slaps from the length of your shaft. beckoning that bratty inclination from out from beneath him— you wanted to hear those lips bark out your name. persuading you to rock in and out of his useless body.

“you want that? my cock to just slip right inside you without need for an apology? without regard for what i just caught you doing in, our bed?”

you almost give in, but you're smarter than to let finn get what he so desperately wants, that easily. rubbing your palm into his hips, small pats connecting with the side of his abdomen insinuate he fetches the mirror from the corner of the bedroom. no words were required in the exchange, he knew his place— plain and simple. and he sure as hell knew what you silently commanded he do.

an exasperated groan grumbles from the depths of his chest, his tongue clicked in annoyance at the sudden expectation for him to remove himself from his lewd position. so stupid, he throws away your years of love to get fucked by some stranger and then complains as you whisk him away from the sheets. he had driven you to your witt's end.

“excuse you, cunt? did i just hear you protest, after cheating in my bed, in my house? don't forget who owns you.”

his blood ran cold and the hairs on the back of his neck sprung to life with an accompanying chill that relished up his spine. his shoulders visibly cringed at your tone as he wasted no time flipping over and hoisting the mirror slowly to the foot of the bed. with the reflective piece of glass now fitted nicely as it leaned against the bedframe— finn crawled atop the messy array of sheets.

“y/n look.. m’sorry don't-” he wasn't allowed to finish, at least not anymore he wasn't. you weren't going to let him disrespect your authority under your roof any longer.

without thinking your hand reaches to unbuckle your belt, fingers toying with the zipper and button respectively. tugging your pants and boxers down without caution— you carded a few free fingers into his messy, mop of hair. digging into and only making it a much more noticable mess than before as you yanked his face to meet yours.

you felt a guley glob of spit collect under your tongue, shooting the wad right between his eyes; saliva leaking down the bridge of his nose and bleeding onto his upperlip. you knew how he adorded being tossed around like trash, better yet, treated as such. he was getting off to this, his eyes pooling wide with lust everytime a vulgar insult leaped from behind your teeth.

he tries not to let his words slur as you play with his still, very tender asshole. breath hitching every step of the way as you spin him to face the direction of the mirror. his hole was still lubed and wet from his previous visitor, giving you very easy access with little push or resistance.

his eyes roll back, you keep your gaze attentive on his decoy on the other side of the glass. your fat cock streaching him out has his lips parting to release a squeal of appreciation, a lavish burn following close suit as you sink deeper inside of him. he's not regretting his choice to unturn his devotion towards you; not yet at least.

“getting off to this slut? look at yourself, i haven't even started to really fuck you yet. pathetic.”

finn’s eyes are trained on his reflection, the look of tragedy curling over his spit-slicked lips. he could feel how deep you were, reaching spots he didn't even know were there. he can also make out the veins on your cock dragging along his walls and you're right; he is getting off to this. it felt so good— he felt so good— it all was good.

you rut into his ass like a feral animal, grunting cocktailed with sour remarks to keep the tension rising. instinctively he clings onto the fabric beneath him for dear life, knuckles fading from bright red to a pale white. through the fog of pleasure clogging his mind, he can only keen out an audible ‘yes’ to all of the questions and words that jumbled from your mouth.

with your eyes fixated on the way his skin ripples and jiggles against your hips, the fat riding up onto yer’ waist with the brutal pace you keep. he attempts to protest with how close he feels himself getting, only to be cut off by one hard slam after another— cock drilling into his tight little hole with intentions to impregnate him.

concepts of his usualy flat tummy growing round and bloated as you fucked it full of your little swimmers now press into your mind. each seed racing to see which will be the one to knock up your boyfriend; rendering him yours forever. your vigor prevails, motivated by the sole image of your slut giving birth to one, maybe two of your genetic creations. your offspring.

finn wonders if the cheating scandal really has your stamina skyrocketing, that is until through the intoxication of your speed— he realizes. fuck, you don't have a condom. he can't get pregnant, as much as he'd want to settle down with you he has way to many jobs that would release him from employment if they found out he had a baby in his belly. you wouldn't do that to him, would you? you knew how near and dear traveling from place to place, job to job was to him. was this punishment?

“sweeti- ah! y/n c-condom!”

even with his tongue tripping over ever other word, you could decipher the clutter of gibberish all too well. he had figured out your plan to breed his tiny body.

“oh? that silly thing? i gotta make you my wife, remember? just a stupid little whore who can only work from home. nobody wants to fuck a pregnant bitch. maybe that'll teach you to keep it in your pants.”

“n-no— ah-! fuck..”

your words sent tingles over his scalp, squelching noises resonate through the air mingled with your bitter laughter. drool starts to seep from the corners of his mouth and tears begin to well up in his eyes as he watches his mirror double get impailed by the outline of your cock. he knows soon that a small child will fill the roll of your shaft, he can't do anything but try to resist as the idea of your warm, stick love flooding his womb only grows on him.

at this point, all finn is doing is whimpering on your cock, degrading making the pressure behind his thighs hotter and his ass tighter. that familiar knot twisting in his lower stomach begging to snap as you roll into his prostate with a hunger glistening in your eyes. you flip finn on his back and catch his bottom, wet lip between your teeth and tug with the push of your hips. eye contact is never broken as your hot load spurts long and sticky ropes through his ass and into his belly. so full, he's so positively full as he feels your genes enter his boy womb— effectively impregnating and painting his gummy walls with white fluid.

soon a bunch of mini you’s will roam the empty spaces in your home and you'll start the perfect family together. you had planned to make him your bitch for quite some time, but the cheating only sped up the inevitable. finn sobbed into the crook of your neck; protruding tummy poking at your abdomen as he loosely attached to you.

the whole ordeal would be burned into his brain and yours, the mirror serving his eyes a sick reminder that he was now tasked with carrying your kid. forever.

[eyeofthedrgn]

A Heavy Battle Symphony Chapter 8

Catch up here >> AHBS Masterlist

TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), drinking (comes up late in the story) just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Word count: 1739

Notes: This chapter is slightly graphic on the physical abuse. It's only like two lines, but I wanted to make it known.

Chapter 8 - Sorry for Now

After a while you may forget

But just in case the memories cross your mind

You couldn't know this when I left

Under the fire of your angry eyes

I never wanted to say goodbye

Four months, thirteen days, and ten hours, not that he was counting, since he left. Since the dark haired boy had walked away, leaving Rowan standing on the sidewalk. Since his mind spiraled out of control, and it felt like part of him died.

Rowan had been seeing a therapist for the last three months. It had helped, somewhat. At least he could function as a relatively normal human being again, when he was around people anyway. Most of the time. He almost didn't graduate. Thankfully, his mom, his friend group, and his therapist had helped him get through it.

But all in all, Rowan felt empty. Somehow his heart was broken. He hadn't realized someone could get so attached to someone so fast even though they never really talked or hung out. Maybe it was because they shared such vulnerabilities with each other that day in the park or there really was such a thing as a soulmate and his just left him. Either way, he was broken inside. Yet, he still went to parties with his friends, hung out, but he wasn't always present. Everyone noticed the vacant stares, but they usually left it alone. They all knew the general gist of what happened that day, but they could never understand the emotional gravity well that that day had caused. No one knew that Rowan had fallen for the other boy.

Except the ever observant Elide. She noticed everything. The way Rowan spoke about Lorcan, the way his eyes lit up when he saw the other boy walking down the hall, and the small looks they both shared on cast signing day.

But nobody had seen Lorcan after he had walked away. He never came back to school. No one knew what to think. Most assumed they moved again and they left it at that. Rowan assumed the worst after seeing Lorcan's bruises and him basically saying this was a usual occurrence.

Rowan was brought back to the present when a beach ball hit him in the head. He was sitting on the edge of Aelin's pool, sulking, feet dangling in the water. Aelin was throwing one of her parties, it was nearly the end of summer and soon most of them would head off to college. The noises from his friends finally filtering back into his head, it was suddenly too loud, too bright, and too hot. He ran a hand down his face.

Fenrys had been the beach ball throwing culprit, Rowan just glared at him.

"Come on, Ro. Try and have some fun?" Fen had swam over to Rowan and crossed his arms over the edge of the pool. The roguish blond just wanted him to be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He said that a lot now. Fenrys just raised an eyebrow at the boy… man.

He was eighteen now and he wasn't that scrawny, nerdy looking boy anymore. Rowan supposed that was one good thing that came out of Lorcan leaving, he got addicted to working out. There was a punching bag set up in the garage with some weights. He was fit now, muscles defined, but not bulky.

Elide walked up and mussed up his hair. "Come help me get some drinks." She didn't leave any room for argument.

In the kitchen, Elide just leaned forward on the island and looked at Rowan.

"I thought we were getting drinks."

"Yeah, we will. But-"

"But what?" He really didn't mean to say that with such an attitude, but he was hot and emotionally exhausted. Honestly, he just wanted to go home.

Elide was on her phone, waiting for him to chill. Taking a deep breath he said, "I'm sorry. What did you want to talk about?" Rowan was trying, he really was. She just slid her phone over the counter towards him. He furrowed his brows as he looked at the article on the screen.

Consultants for Erawan Enterprises arrested on counts of fraud, child abuse, human trafficking, and other illicit activities

"What's this?" He had no idea what this was about. Why would he care about Erawan Enterprises?

He picked up the phone and kept reading since Elide clearly wasn’t going to answer. It was short and there was a photo of a devastatingly beautiful woman with dark as night hair, that reminded him of Lorcan, and alabaster skin in handcuffs being pushed into a cop car and a very angry man shoved against the hood of the same car.

Maeve Valgerian and James Perrington were arrested Wednesday night. After some anonymous tips to the Morath Police.

"Who are these people?" Rowan didn't understand.

"Pretty sure she's Lorcan's aunt."

Oh.

Rowan had searched for Lorcan online after he disappeared, but there was literally nothing. Absolutely zero results. It was like he was a ghost.

They were consultants for Erawan Enterprises and moved all over the world for the very powerful man. Erawan Enterprises is under investigation for fraud, money laundering, and human trafficking.

After Valgerian and Perrington were arrested, MPD searched their residence and found incriminating evidence against them.

There was also a teenager held captive in the basement. They were taken to the nearest hospital with severely critical injuries. The name and gender of this individual will not be released for their safety.

The article was published nearly two months ago.

Human trafficking…

Held captive...

Severely critical injuries...

"Please, don't break my phone." He was squeezing the device and didn't realize it. Quickly handing it back to her, his hand went straight to his hair.

“Are you sure this is his aunt?”

“Well, not 100%, but they have physical similarities and their hair…” she trailed off. “And Lorcan had mentioned his aunt’s boyfriend living with them one day in class.”

"Fuck!" He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out.

"Ro." Elide's voice was quiet.

"FUCK!"

After a couple deep breaths, he ran his hands down his face, and then turned to face his friend. "Is he dead?" His voice cracked.

"I don't know. All of the other articles I could find are just about them and Erawan Enterprises. No mentions of Lorcan. Anywhere. It's like he doesn't exist."

Elide pulled him into a hug and he broke.

---

Lorcan had been through shit show after shit show since he left the Whitethorn house. As soon as he returned to the apartment, it was packed up into a moving van and they were gone.

They were in Fenharrow for a couple months. Maeve didn't enroll him in school. He was locked in the basement of the small house they rented, it felt like he had gone crazy. He hadn't seen the sun until they moved again. His skin turned a sickly gray. By the time they moved again, he could feel every one of his ribs, and his hips stuck out, his fingers overlapping when wrapped around his wrist.

Next move was to Morath. Lorcan didn't know if he would survive. He didn’t have a good feeling about this place. The basement became his home yet again. It was filthy. There were thick iron hooks in opposite walls and chains hanging from them. This was where he was going to die. He closed his eyes as Perrington latched the shackles around his wrists.

---

One day, Lorcan heard sirens intermittently. He kept passing out. He wasn't even sure he was hearing sirens or if it was just a ringing in his ears. They were always ringing nowadays. A punch to his face made his vision flicker. Blood and saliva leaked from his mouth as his head rolled down to his chest.

The ringing in his ears got louder. There definitely weren't sirens. No one was going to save him. He was going to die here. He knew it. It was what he deserved. The bastard born half-breed that no one cared about, left to die in his own filth in a disgusting basement. The world slowly faded to black.

---

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

He was in Hel. He had to be.

Beep.

The incessant beeping was there to drive him insane. And the smell of bleach was there to make him sick.

Beep.

---

Lorcan startled awake. How could he be awake? He was supposed to be dead. Right?

The nightmare he was having felt so real. Probably because he had lived it before. He assumed that was just what Hel was supposed to be, reliving the worst parts of your life.

But instead, he was in a bed, a hospital bed. Why did they save him? Lorcan wasn't worth saving. Yet, here he was covered in wires, tubes, a needle stuck in his hand, a device on his finger. It was dark outside and the lights were dim in the room.

Deciding he wasn’t actually dead, he took stock of his body, he was certain he had some broken ribs, but nothing else seemed to be broken which was surprising. He was definitely sore and stiff. And exhausted. So exhausted.

---

After… Lorcan didn't know how long he was discharged. He had put on some weight, though not a lot. The staff made sure he ate. They were all nice and cared for him. But now, he stood outside the main entrance of the hospital in some scrubs they gave him. Now, he had nothing. Nobody. He may as well have been lost at sea.

Why had they saved him? He still couldn’t figure that out.

Somehow, he managed to find the small house that he had been stuck in for who knows how long. There was police tape over the door. The door was open.

He pushed through the tape. The house was a mess. It seemed the cops had ransacked the place. But he finally found his things, they were strewn about the floor. Thank Hellas, his journal was still there. After changing, he packed up his books and journal, some clothes, and a few other other necessities.

He needed money or something he could sell. Maeve's jewelry would help. He could pawn it.

Lorcan asked the pawnshop owner for directions to the bus station, and then he set out to see if there was still one person who cared about him. Hopefully this wasn’t a bad idea.

____

Thanks for reading. Things will get better, I promise! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

Edit- oops! I forgot to actually put in tags... My bad. Sorry!

@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire

[antoni-anxiety]

Tommy is babey, literally tho

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TOMMY

Run. Run. Run was all that could go through his mind right now. Dream was chasing Tommy. Tommy just wanted to get away from there. Dream blew up Logstedshire; Tommy had nothing to lose, apart from his life apparently, which was what he was running for right now. After about 15 minutes of a very close chase between Tommy and Dream, Tommy seemed to outrun the elder, which he was ever so thankful for.

After running so far, Tommy was exhausted and rightfully so; he almost just died. He was so, so cold, he was stuck, surrounded by snow. The boy decided to walk north for a bit further, in hopes that he would find rescue, and just as he hoped, he did. In the distance, he saw a small spruce cottage, with smoke erupting from the chimney, signaling that someone lived there; whoever it was, Tommy prayed that it wasn’t Dream. Uh oh. His vision became dotted and he could barely see, that probably wasn’t good. Right as he reached the front door and was about to knock, his legs collapsed and his mind went blank. He had passed out.

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TECHNO

Technoblade finally had some time to himself. He’s been busy breeding the hounds and organising all day and he hadn’t had much time to relax in a while, and therefore he was now all cozy next to his fireplace, reading some books on greek mythology. He was pretty relaxed, well, until he heard a thud at his front door that is. He contemplated leaving it however his curiosity got the better of him. As he opened his door, he saw someone laying on the front step, ‘There’s no way that they’re older than 16.’ he thought to himself. Now, Techno is a ‘lone wolf’ as some might call it but he wasn’t gonna let some malnourished kid freeze to death on his front step. The man maneuvered the boy from outside onto his small couch; now that he got a better look at the boy, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

This frail, skinny boy was his younger brother. Worry filled Techno’s eyes, even though he pretended that the younger annoyed him ever so much, he had a soft spot for him, the kid could brighten anyone’s day by just saying hello. He had no idea what happened but that kid who was a ray of sunshine suddenly looked as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks and if anyone were to merely touch him, he’d crumble right then and there on the spot. Techno didn’t really know what to do except make Tommy comfortable until he woke up, and once he did, he’d ask him about everything. Techno couldn’t help but wonder what Tommy had gone through before he was there, ofcourse, he knew about Tommy’s exile but if it was like when he was exiled for the first time, Tommy wouldn’t be like this. Techno scoured his mind for what he knew of Tommy’s latest exile; Dream was to look after him, well clearly he wasn’t doing a good job. Oh fuck. Dream must have been abusing his little brother. With that thought, Techno stood up in rage. He was gonna kill that green bastard. That was until he heard stirring and a small whine from the couch. Whipping his head around, he saw Tommy try to sit up and ran over to him. The second that Tommy saw him he immediately started panicking. Techno being the awkward man he is, hugged Tommy in attempt to calm him down. This was gonna be a long night.

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TOMMY

Tommy opened his eyes to be in an unfamiliar place, so of course, his first instinct was to panic. He sat up as quickly as he could and looked around, he saw his older brother approach him. Still in his tired state, his mind was all over the place and all that was going through his mind was ‘POSSIBLE DANGER. RUN’. Before he could process what to do and where to go, Techno had seemingly sensed his anxiety and hugged him tightly. The physical affection seemed to do its job and calm the younger down but it also made him feel loved, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. The overwhelming emotions made the boy burst into tears, something in his mind seemed to shift, it made him feel younger. However, that was utterly absurd, it must’ve been the stress getting to him. Oh no. Tommy realised what was happening, he almost forgot that he used to do this to cope during all the wars. Of course, nobody knew about it, he’d be caught dead before he let anyone know he regresses; however, his mind was too foggy right now to tell what was happening and therefore reciprocated the hug. Techno was surprisingly a good hugger, and when he finally let go after 5 minutes of a silent hug, only filled with Tommy’s little sniffles, the younger slightly whined at the loss of the calming touch. When Techno looked at Tommy’s eyes, something about them was.. different. They were filled with a somewhat childish innocence which made Techno suddenly feel so protective of him. Tommy seemed to come to his senses and tried to get out of headspace, which he somewhat succeeded at, and immediately apologised to his big brother. ‘I’m s-so sorry Techno- fuck- Imma go, imma go now,’’, Techno was now worried for his baby brother so he couldn’t let him get off the hook so easily. ‘Hey, Toms you’re not going anywhere, you’re clearly ill and I’m worried, tell me what’s going on, hm? You usually wouldn’t burst into tears just like that..’ Techno stated with clear worry in his voice. Tommy was contemplating just lying to Techno but he knew that it wouldn’t work. For someone who barely socialises, Techno is really good at reading people just like open books, so Tommy decided to, reluctantly, tell him about his regression above all of his other issues, seeing as he was already on the verge of regressing again. ‘Uh so about the crying thing.. have you ever heard of fuckin.. Age regression or little space of some sort?’ Tommy just hoped that this wouldn’t go badly. Techno of course, read a lot, so he had the general grasp of what Tommy was talking about, he guessed that his little brother regressed, and he couldn’t lie, just the thought of it was utterly adorable. The piglin hybrid noticed that he hadn’t actually answered Tommy’s question and nodded, ‘So.. you regress? I know a little bit about this stuff, do you wanna be little?’. If he was being completely honest, Tommy had no idea that Techno would be acting this accepting and.. caring? He subconsciously made the choice that Techno was friendly and it was okay to regress around him, and he gave a small nod, on the edge of completely slipping.

3RD PERSON POV- WITH TECHNO

Techno sat himself comfortably next to the younger boy, looking at him in awe; the boy was only 16 and he’d gone through multiple wars and several betrayals, he was so very strong, Techno couldn’t even begin to describe how proud he was. ‘Hey buddy how old are you feeling?’, Techno got a reply of Tommy shying away into his hands and raising 3 fingers. ‘Very small then hm? We should get you into something into a bit more warm, you look quite chilly buddy.’, Tommy made grabby hands at Techno and how could he deny such an adorable request? Techno lifted the skinny boy and brought him to his bedroom, placing him on his bed. Techno once again couldn’t help but get upset once again that his former friend hurt his baby brother; Tommy could have gotten frostbite or hypothermia with the tattered, thin clothes he had been wearing in such a cold biome. Techno finally fished out some joggers and a red hoodie he hadn’t worn in a long time. When he turned back from his closet to his bed, the sight he was met with nearly gave him a heart attack with how pure and adorable it was. Tommy was sat on the bed, knees tucked to his chest and played with his fingers softly, a tiny smile painted on his face. Sadly, this is the happiest Techno had seen Tommy in months, or years even. Techno sat on the bed, next to his younger brother, and helped him get dressed, slowly and carefully, making sure that he didn’t startle the baby. Techno picked Tommy back up and placed him back on the sofa; the two were just cuddling, that is until they heard the front door open. Tommy curled himself into a ball, while Techno protectively placed himself in front of him. The older was slightly relieved to see Phil in the doorframe, however he didn’t know how their father would react to Tommy’s regression, or whether Tommy would even want him to know: Techno could tell that Tommy was very shy and secretive about it. ‘Hey Techno, mate, who’s that?’ Phil asked, clueless about the stress that his sons were in because of his presence. Techno was almost physically sweating with the pressure being put on him, he awkwardly replied ‘Oh uh, hey Phil,’ Techno looked to Tommy who looked terrified. ‘Hey Toms? It’s just Phil, you’re okay..’ Techno whispered to the boy in attempt to calm him down; it seemed to work quite a bit. Unfortunately for the boys, Phil heard what Techno said and jumped at the opportunity to talk to his youngest son, ‘Did you say Tommy? Hello Toms, what’s up?’. Tommy froze and slowly looked up at his dad, tears gathering up in his eyes, Techno noticed and went to comfort his little brother. Phil was beyond confused, and did what anyone would do, ask what was going on. Techno looked to Tommy for approval before telling their dad, to which the boy nodded. With the knowledge Techno had gathered, he tried his best to answer Phil’s question; Phil is a nice guy, he helps anyone who needs it, and so he knew of quite a few coping mechanisms, and this was one of them. The eldest seemed to grasp onto the idea surprisingly quickly, and was immediately helping Techno coddle the younger. Neither of them could deny, the baby was adorable, babbling to himself and chewing on his fingers, which wasn’t exactly sanitary but adorable nonetheless. With the three being fully aware that Ghostbur wouldn’t mind this version of Tommy, and would have fun taking care of Tommy, Techno and Phil couldn’t help but hope that their family could grow close once again. Philza was sure to never let his baby boys go again, they would all rekindle their relationship with each other day by day, and soon were a fully functioning family once again.

[blitheringmcgonagall]

All Too Well...

 @therealrjlupin sent me an ask to celebrate the reader milestone on ff.net for  We Can Be Heroes surprise, surprise asking for angsty Wolfstar!! Then tumblr ate your ask so sorry about that, here it is anyway. This is for you and for @stonecoldhedwig who wrote a very angsty Jily  My Heart Is Overcome  - very beautiful but so bloody poignant, so this is payback (also for the magnificent fanart for we can be heroes, but that deserves a lot more than this...!)

   All Too Well

“Black!”

Sirius felt his heart rate hammer and the blood pounding in his ears as he whirled around to face Snape, his wand in his right hand.

“What the fuck do you want, Snivellus?”

He was constantly on edge, ready to snap, to lose it, since he had run away from home that summer. He called it running away, but it wasn’t. Being thrown out and disowned by your own parents, with nothing but the clothes he had on that day… he had wanted to leave, Merlin yes, he had threatened to leave hundreds of times. But he had stayed. To be near Reggie. To protect his little brother. Physically protect him, certainly, but also to act as a barrier against his parents’ poisonous ideas, to stop them seeping into his immature, innocent, wretchedly gullible psyche. The Potters had taken him in immediately, kindly, enthusiastically, no questions asked.

But this constant worry about Reggie, this guilt for leaving him alone with them? His stupid, pathetic weakness in minding that his parents didn’t love him, this feeling of abandonment? He hated it, hated himself, hated everything, so much. He was irritable as fuck. Always on the offensive, and defensive, high alert, fight or flight. It didn’t help that Mulciber and his mates constantly muttered snide comments under his breath when he passed, loser, a nobody, disowned, nobody wants you. It infuriated him that it bothered him, that his throat had a habit of constricting, his stomach feeling sick every single time. Bastards. He wanted to hurt them, wanted to lash out, so badly. How many times had James and Remus stopped him mid-curse? How many times had he already found himself in Mc Gonagall’s office since the start of term?

Less than two days ago he had narrowly avoided yet another detention, he was ready to send a nasty curse Avery’s way, one of his family’s Black Specials, when Remus had appeared, breathless from running and grabbed hold of his robe and pulled him to the side. Avery had sent a curse his way and Remus had blocked it and deducted points. Once Avery was gone, Sirius had punched the stone wall, viciously, repeatedly.

“Padfoot, stop!” Remus had whispered urgently, still breathing heavily.

“I can’t,” he had whispered back, determined not to break down, hissing in pain as his bloodied knuckles collided with the stone again and again.

“Padfoot,” Remus had said, a look of horror and desperation on his face as he grabbed his hand and brought it up to his mouth.

He had stared in awe, momentarily stupefied.

“Don’t, please,” Remus had murmured gently, kissing his injured knuckles reverently. “I can’t bear it.”

He stood speechless for a moment, watching Remus’ face turn a warm hue.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, exhaling suddenly, their foreheads meeting.

Then they were kissing, almost frenzied, frantic, Remus backing him into the wall whispering his name over and over, all his rage and fears forgotten.

He didn’t know what it meant, but Remus’ face looked so different since then, all lit from within, golden almost. Sliding his long fingers so they intertwined with his own, under the table at breakfast and lunch and dinner. Stealing kisses behind the tapestry outside Charms and behind the greenhouse. Remus seemed to think they were… they were something. He desperately hoped so. He was too frightened to ask, but he went along with it, smirking widely and grinning like a loon every time Remus walked into his line of sight, hoping he looked cocky, arrogant, cool, collected. He did. Remus looked pleased, a warm look in his kind, moss-green eyes, a slight glow on his cheekbones, a glance his way, followed by his teeth biting the side of his lips. He looked smitten, and Sirius could feel himself melt.

“I saw you, with that half-breed, Lupin,” Snape said, quiet but calm.

He saw red, rage flaring in his chest till he couldn’t even see properly, his vision narrowed to just a pair of dark eyes and white face staring at him coldly.

“You’ll regret saying that,” he said, his wand hand raised, trembling.

“Your choice, Black, if you don’t want Lupin to end up in trouble with Bellatrix and her friends, you’ll prove that he and you are not together. Otherwise, he has a target on his back.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Black. Twenty-four hours.” “What the fuck? Why?” he shouted moving forwards with grim satisfaction as he saw Snape’s eyes fill with fear.

“That beast nearly killed me last year, as did you. Call it payback.”

“You bastard!”

His jaw was clenched so tightly, his lips practically closed. He jerked his knee up, without warning, and Snape groaned and doubled over, holding his groin.

“Mr. Black!”

It was Minerva Mc Gonagall, looking at him with concern.

“Follow me, immediately,” she said, motioning towards him as she went to check on the other student and directed him to the Infirmary.

“This behaviour cannot continue, Sirius,” she said.

There was worry in her stern eyes, and she was wringing her hands. He said nothing, clenching and unclenching his jaw and staring ahead.

“I will have to let your-“

Sirius’ breathing hitched and his eyes widened.

“Please, not Mother, she-“ he said.

“The Potters, I will have to let them know,” Minerva said, putting out her hand and squeezing his shoulder. “Mrs. Black will not hear about this.”

He saw her concern and nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Tell them I’m sorry.”

“Tell them yourself, Sirius.”

He felt so guilty for causing them trouble, but perhaps it was for the best, once they realised how fucked up and bad he was, they would get rid of him too, better if that happened now rather than later, when he got too used to Mia’s kindness and Monty’s soothing calmness. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

                            ……………………….

  He was a coward. He had waited till the last few hours before the deadline, chain smoking, before finally asking Remus to meet him downstairs in the deserted common room. It was late. He could see Remus stifling a yawn, looking gorgeous in the candlelight, but so tired, and worried. He was always so observant.

“What’s wrong, Pads?” he said, putting his hand on Sirius’ knee and squeezing it gently, sitting opposite him beside the fireplace. “You haven’t been yourself all day.”

He tried to smile, faking everything, but he couldn’t speak.

“This…” he motioned between them, aware his voice was trembling.

“Us?” said Remus.

“There is no us,” he whispered hoarsely.

Remus removed his hand from his knee slowly.

“Oh,” he said softly.

Sirius sent him a tight smile, vacant and empty.

“You know me, I don’t do relationships.”

“I thought… I thought you liked it,” Remus smiled.

He looked hurt though.

“I did,” Sirius whispered.

“It doesn’t have to mean… it doesn’t need to be more than…” Remus whispered, still smiling, a few tears tracking down his right cheek. “I wouldn’t mind if...”

He wanted to scream.

“No, I can’t. Sorry.”

He heard Remus catch his breath and nod slowly, watched as Remus turned away and headed back towards the stairs, stopping when he got to the bannisters.

“You shouldn’t have… you should have told me,” Remus said. “I…”

He looked dignified, and shattered.

Sirius nodded, stiff upper lip, clenched jaw, shoulders so tight they hurt, praying his tears wouldn’t betray him until after Remus left. He could see Remus frowning, as though trying to sense how he was feeling. He turned his back on Remus and gripped the mantlepiece, trying to breathe.

“Padfoot?” Remus asked quietly.

“Go,” he answered, knowing he sounded all wrong, hard and desperate.

He heard Remus sigh, heard desolate footsteps fade as he ascended the spiral staircase, leaving Sirius spiralling downwards. He didn’t deserve Remus anyway, maybe it was for the best. 

Swiping furiously at his eyes he picked up his quill and wrote a note.

 Snape,

As discussed. Done.

Sirius Black

The ink was smudged, like Prongs’ left-handed notes.

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 4: Time-Travel of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: M/M Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: no betas we die like man, time-travel, Dehumanization, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Awful Treatment of Clones, Discussions of Murder, Ambiguous/Open Ending

“philter of the phantom”

CC-2224 knew that this would be its last mission for the Empire.

It was still in prime physical condition, a well-crafted piece of hardware meant to last through decades of wear and tear before beginning to break down, but its user-interface was considered suboptimal. A relic from a bygone era.

Creepy, was the word most often used to describe CC-2224. Look at him. His eyes follow you and the lights are on but nobody's home. It's doshing creepy.

Decommissioning was unavoidable, inevitable, imminent.

Its only hope was that it would be allowed to serve the Empire until its end.

When it had been informed that it was to retrieve an object of great importance for the Emperor, at any cost, CC-2224 knew its time of decommissioning had come. The mission would be more dangerous than the briefing implied and CC-2224 would fall in service of the Galactic Empire, just as it desired. Everything would be done.

As predicted in the back of its programming, the mission was a cockup from the beginning. They—CC-2224, its team of useless whiteshells, and the Inquisitor leading the mission—were led into an ambush after retrieving the Emperor’s property.

The whiteshells went down quickly, to no surprise and a great deal of disgust from CC-2224. Its brothers (good soldiers follow orders) would have been a better choice for the mission, for the army, but had been passed over.

Clones were no longer respected as the greatest fighting force in the galaxy. Their numbers had been dwindling ever since Kamino was shut down.

They were a dying breed.

But, dying or not, CC-2224 wasn’t dead yet.

It secured the objective and left the Inquisitor to deal with the—Separatists? No, there were no more Separatists—enemy forces by themself. A Jedi would have had no trouble, but the Jedi were traitors to the Repub—to the Empire—and the Inquisitor had been trained by the Emperor himself.

They would live or die as the Force willed, and CC-2224 had its orders: secure the objective, at any cost.

With the shuttle in sight and the Inquisitor inadvertently keeping the heat off of CC-2224, it broke from its defensive position and retreated in full. The screams of the dead and dying blotted out all other sounds, only cutting out as CC-2224 tripped over the threshold of the shuttle and sealed the door.

It sucked in a breath and stumbled to the cockpit, setting a course for the nearest Imperial forces before collapsing back into the pilot’s seat. CC-2224 sat there for a moment, confused as to why it was not moving, not completing one of the many tasks aboard even such a small vessel, before the realization struck.

Cold.

Its body quaked ever so slightly, sight greying out more and more every second, and it felt unbearably cold. It looked down at itself.

In the crook of one elbow lay the Emperor’s prize—a crystalline, geometric object that pulsed with a low-grade sense of malevolence—but something was wrong. Where before it had worn pristine white plastoid, it was now a bright and shocking hue of scarlet. Blood—a lot of it.

CC-2224 examined itself with a detached sort of curiosity, feeling faraway and uninterested. A quick pat-down of its torso quickly revealed the culprit and brought with it a flood of pain. One of the Sepa—Reb—one of the enemies must have been carrying a slugthrower. Unusual, unaccounted for, unexpected, and all the more deadly.

It would bleed out before it reached Imperial forces, CC-2224 noted dully. The idea didn’t bother it overly much. It’d known it would die on this mission, had accepted that upon assignment, and faced with its imminent decommissioning, it felt very little at all. Not fear, not anger, not regret...

Well, and that wasn’t true.

CC-2224 had regrets.

(Good soldiers follow orders.)

Alone in its mind, on the brink of death, it could acknowledge their existence.

It wished, suddenly, that things were different. Not for itself, no, death had no power over CC-2224. There was no death, after all, only the Force. And there was its regret. That it had sent its—his—that it had executed a traitor, without hesitation or remorse, and that the traitor had rejoined the Force believing he had CC-2224’s loyalty.

Loyalty and love.

CC-2224 had loved the traitor and his execution was a blight on its existence.

The traitor’s fall down, down, down into the waters of Utapau haunted its dreams.

Dead, the traitor was dead, he had to be. If the traitor had survived the fall that no being could survive, then CC-2224 had failed in its orders. It would be forced to complete the mission before submitting itself for decommissioning.

So the traitor Jedi must be dead, or else CC-2224 would never be allowed to die.

… And you want to die…

Perhaps not, it conceded to itself, because death tended to solve very little in the grand scheme of the galaxy. But it certainly no longer wanted to exist here, now, in this galaxy that the glorious Emperor had built upon the blood and bones of—of the—

It didn’t matter.

CC-2224 had nothing, had no one, would die very soon, without any of its brothers to hold its hand and watch him march far away. It’d always thought it would have at least that little bit of comfort, at the end.

… But you don’t want the end… You want the beginning… As do I…

Still nestled in the crook of its arm, the objective shivered, barely perceptible, and it looked down to see… something… a ripple that shouldn’t exist… before its vision finally went dark…

.

The disappointment might kill it before the blood loss, it decides as sound and pain begin to filter back into its consciousness. All it wants is an end to its godsawful existence, is that too much to ask? An end to pain and fear and remorse, the easiest thing in the galaxy to accomplish, except if you’re CC-karking-2224.

“Wake up, please, please, wake up…”

It gripes and growls and groans at the order, the request, the plea, but complies, conditioned as it’s been to respond to that voice and tone.

Prying its eyes open isn’t something it even feels capable of doing, but it grits its teeth as it's done so many times before. “Oh,” Kote breathes, staring at the blood-and-dirt-streaked face hovering over his own. “Hello there.”

The ghost smiles, adding tears into the mixture of grime, and lets out a chuckle that sounds like a sob.

“You scared me, Commander” it says, accusatory, as if that’s the worst crime he’s committed against its person. “Oh, Cody, I thought we’d lost you. No, don’t move, I’m going to comm the medics that we finally found you.”

Kote stops trying to prop himself up and just observes the spectre of his long-dead general report their position and his condition. He could look around, take stock of whatever years-over battle this surprisingly kind fever-dream has dropped him into, but instead he drinks in the sight.

“Well, Cody, I’m afraid the medics are not going to be kind to you after this.”

Smiling more softly than he has in over a decade, Kote watches the spectre fret over his blood-sticky armor, trying to assess the damage. “I forgot he used to call me that,” Kote murmurs, disbelieving at his luck.

Of all the ways his mind could comfort him as he dies, he never thought his general’s ghost would lead him into the Force. Perhaps this dying shavit isn’t so bad.

The spectre quirks its head to the side like a little bird, brow furrowed, mouth curled to one side. “What do you mean?”

Kote feels the hot, hard coil of tension that he’s carried in his chest for so, so long begin to unravel just a little bit. He shakes his head ruefully just thinking about it, his expression no doubt disgustingly sweet. “Never had the heart to tell him he got it wrong that first time,” he admits, watching the spectre go still. “Not like it was a hardship, going from Kote to Cody. I liked it, even. Like when the tubies start losing teeth and can’t get their words right anymore.”

He chuckles at the memories, a little bubble of blood forming at his mouth. The spectre doesn’t look nearly as amused; instead, its expression had turned glacial as he’d reminisced, and now looks only gut-punched.

“Do you—” His general’s ghost looks like he’s already marching. “Cody—Kote—do you recognize me?” he asks urgently, throwing a panicked look over his shoulder. “You know me, don’t you?”

And that, ha, that’s the funniest thing he’s heard in years.

More blood works its way out of his mouth as his breath wheezes out in a painful laugh. “‘Course I do, cyar’ika,” Kote reassures the spectre. “You’re my damnfool Jedi, always rushing into danger like you’re trying to prove something to… someone… Some dead man, most like.”

He can feel himself losing steam the longer he speaks, becoming colder and more tired with every word.

The spectre darts another look over his shoulder, face spasming like he doesn’t understand what he’s seeing, until Kote fumbles around and grabs one of his hands. He looks back down, then, face going soft and tears coming thick and fast. “I don’t understand,” he whispers, breathing beginning to hitch.

His poor general looks overwhelmed and unsure, like he was back nearer the beginning of the war. “I’m sorry,” he says thickly, “I’m so sorry, ner cyare. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to, I’m sorry, ni ceta…”

Obi-Wan’s ghost flinches like he’s been struck, but he holds tight to Kote’s hand and pushes an errant curl away from his forehead, though Kote doesn’t remember pulling off his bucket. “Whatever it is, I forgive you,” he replies, voice sweet and lovely like he’s talking to a panicked shiny. Maybe that’s what he is, right now. “You just need to hold on a bit longer, my dear, the medics are nearly here. I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I forgive you…”

He can feel himself slipping away, into the yawning darkness.

With his luck, he’ll just wake up back on the shuttle, his general’s forgiveness a hazy memory to torture himself with. He can hear shouting, dulled by the rushing of his ears, the sound of his own heartbeat, Obi-Wan whispering benedictions and pleas to hang on, just a little more…

The hand in his grasp is pulled away and Kote whines, wanting to hold his general’s hand when he dies, but other figures crowd around him, pushing the spectre away.

And that’s—that’s not karking fair, and Kote isn’t afraid to fripping say so, to push the painfully-familiar hands and buckets away because, damn it all, he’s dying here, can’t he get a little peace, for once?

“Settle down, brother,” dear, dead, Coric says with the authority of a medic to back up the order. “If you keep this up you’ll cause more damage than we can fix.”

Kote opens his mouth to tell Coric’s ghost exactly what he can shove up his shebs but is stymied by an unceremonious hypo to the neck, cutting him off.

The last thing he thinks he sees before the dark returns is his general, covered in filth and gore, looking more conflicted than Kote has ever seen him before. And at his side, a mirror image of himself, looking solid and implacable and like he’s meticulously planning a murder.

Well, if that’s how it is, Kote doesn’t mind marching off.

He’s got his general’s back.

[silver-wield]

Hey, Silver! I’m a longtime fan of your blog and your amazing theories. I’ve been watching another playthrough and I can’t stop puzzling over the scene in Chapter 9 where Aerith walks away from Cloud, humming a tune, and he has one of his episodes and sheds a tear. I’ve never felt that theories about it being a vision of Aerith’s death made any sense and I agree that it’s more likely about Zack. But I think the song she’s singing is what triggers his reaction and it would have to be a song both

Cloud and Aerith know. So my crazy theory is that it’s the Stamp song. I’ve listened to it a few times and it seems to fit. Aerith would be singing it because she’s just told Cloud she wants to spend more time with him (as per JP translation) just like she said to Zack, so he’s on her mind. It’s very possible that Cloud also associates this song with a memory of Zack. There is another reaction Cloud has when Barret mentions Stamp very early in the game that I always found peculiar, but at that point we don’t know who Stamp is. Then we have graffiti about Stamp all throughout the train tunnels in chapter 5 to get that image in our heads. Stamp is clearly important to the story. And then, at the very end, we see a bag of chips blowing right in front of Zack with a picture of Stamp on it. (Yes, it’s a different breed of dog but I agree with you that that’s a red herring). I think it’s pretty clear I think it’s pretty clear that Stamp is a reference to Zack, and the way Stamp bookends the It just seems to fit. Zack is the big mystery of FF7, just as always, but now his story is going to be done justice. Might be just a wild idea keeping me up in the middle of the night, but I’d love to know your thoughts on this. (I just joined Twitter btw as “Janeite of the Slums”, author of cheesy fanfic :-)) And sorry this ask is so long and I hope it's not too hard to piece together. Janeite here again and I forgot to mention that the way the same exact notes from the OST play, just like the beginning of the game, seems like it’s tying back to the very first scene that shows the wastelands where we later see Cloud and Zack at the end of the game. Thanks again for taking the time to read all this.

Price of strength

According to a comment from Briana, she isn't humming any specific song, but if you switch to JP, Maaya is humming something specific and according to a JP fan comment, it's price of freedom, which is Zack's song.

I think Cloud is crying about Zack and not Aerith in that scene cause he's had several flashes of her death before this point and none of them made him upset, but what he saw here did upset him. Thing is, Cloud's memories and skills are ripped from Zack via Jenova's mimic ability, so it's more likely the line "I want to spend more time with you" is what triggered a flash of Zack saying that to Aerith, and that's what made Cloud cry and what confused him because Aerith isn't his girlfriend or anyone he's even close to, so why would this make him upset? We can see he looks very confused by the flash before he dismisses it like all the others, which is canon in the ultimanias that he ignores all of the strange flashes he gets or just can't remember them once they're past. It's the same in the Shinra building when Kunsel is mentioned. Cloud gets upset about Zack, but then can't remember it once it's past because Jenova suppresses his true self and also real Cloud is suffering massive trauma from what haplened so likely isn't strong enough to fight back unless Tifa's nearby. She gives him strength to be himself, which is why she's the only one who can bring real Cloud back in the lifestream.

The Stamp song is about Zack. It's pretty obvious from the lyrics and positioning of the graffiti and all the other hints in the game. There's two versions of Stamp: the beagle and the Yorkie and they're represtative of Cloud and Zack, but nobody's sure which is which.

I have a theory though 😁

Zack is the mystery of 7R the same way he was of FF7 cause the story is the same.

As you can see this split second shot of Zack returning to pick up Cloud after he survives the last stand is in OG just like it's in Remake. It was too small to spot, but now it's been extended into a full scene. And Zack never makes it past that spot where he dies, and it says in the AC reunion files someone was tracking Zack and Cloud from Nibelheim and that's who shot him, so I'm betting Zack's death will be slightly changed from the 3 unknown grunts to someone Zack knows.

[sithsecrets]

Can we get a cross of 1,3,4 and 20 with my big rough man Clyde 💛 i hope you get to feeling better baby 💛💛💙

this is very nsfw and also mentions breeding kink, so be warned lmaoooo

It’s a slow, sleepy night at the bar, every table and barstool empty in the wake of thunderstorm raging outside. Rain beats on the windows in sheets, lightning and thunder flashing and cracking through the glass harshly enough to make you see why even the regulars stayed home. Clyde had called before your shift and told you about the incoming weather, but you’d come in anyway, partly incase things cleared up and partly just to spend time with him. You’ve never made a habit of dating your bosses, but Clyde’s been different from the start. When he asked you out months ago, you just couldn’t say no.

“Lets shut it down,” Clyde calls from behind the bar, tucking one last dry glass back up on the shelf as he takes a look around the empty room. You don’t need to be told twice, throwing the deadbolt on the front door and flicking off the porch lights with a couple of quick gestures. Everything’s been wiped down a couple of times, and the lack of customers has kept the floor nearly spotless all night. All that’s left to do is the trash and the chairs, and Clyde’s already making noise about leaving the former until tomorrow.

Ya’ll make quick work of the chairs, meeting in the middle of the room, and then it’s time to go, all the night’s closing chores done and over with.

“Easiest closing we ever had,” you remark, moving into Clyde’s arms. He gives you a squeeze, kissing the crown of your head shortly.

“Sure is. S’too bad, though,” he declares, reaching down fast to tug at the hem of your denim skirt. “Nobody got to see you in this little outfit.”

You roll your eyes playfully, wiggling when you feel Clyde slide his hand in your back pocket. “It’s all for you anyway, Mr. Logan.”

Clyde’s little smirk broadens, fingers groping and squeezing now. “I think you like the attention regardless.”

“Fuck you,” you retort, not at all offended.

Clyde’s quick on the draw, countering easily with, “How hard?”

He jerks you closer at that, supremely satisfied with himself when the action knocks the breath out of you. The kiss Clyde gives you is slow and dirty, purposeful, and you give that energy right back to him. Your cunt clenches when he picks you up off the floor, locking your legs around his waist as he takes you over to the bar.

“Are you insane?” you breathe, half kissing and half talking as your boyfriend lays you out on your back. The wood is cool through your clothes, the sensation of it against your hot skin almost enough to make you shiver.

Clyde simply takes in the sight of you, shrugging. “Yes. But only because you look so damn good tonight.”

You want to say something witty to that, maybe tease a little, but then your boyfriend’s kissing you again, kissing you and grinding against you well enough to make you moan. Neither of you waste any time, pulling at clothes and working open buttons. There’s not much for Clyde to do, given the fact that you’re wearing nothing but a skirt and an itty bitty top that ties closed in the front. He’s rough with your underwear, pulling them down and off in one quick motion while you fumble with his belt buckle.

“Do you want—” Clyde pants, breath hot on your face. “I mean, do you need fingers first, or—?”

Almost lightheaded with need, you squirm and try to pull him closer. “Just fuck me, Clyde, please.”

Apparently, that’s all Clyde needs to hear, because he begins railing you without mercy not one second later. The pace of it is completely disorienting, and the press of his cock in your body is enough to get your back arching up off the wood. Clyde keeps a tight hold on you, the cold metal of his prosthetic biting into the flesh of your thigh while his other hand keeps a vice grip on the ties of your shirt. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and the sound of skin on skin is obscene the empty, otherwise quiet room.

“Have my kids,” Clyde murmurs, face pinched up in a way that lets you know he’s chasing an orgasm. His hand comes down, thumb finding your clit, and you swear you see spots in your vision.

“Bet,” you gasp, writhing beneath your boyfriend as heat pools in the pit of your stomach. It’s meant to be a cute remark, but it comes out as a desperate plea more than anything.

That’s always been Clyde’s weak spot, the idea of making your pregnant. It couldn’t actually happen now, on account of your IUD and all of that, but that doesn’t mean that talking dirty about it doesn’t make him cum in three seconds flat.

“I want you to beg,” Clyde grits, eyes squeezed shut. He’s so close and you know it, he just needs a bit more help—

“Make me pregnant, Clyde, please,” you whine, so wound up now yourself that you almost wish he really could. “Cum in me and give me a baby, please, honey—”

That’s all it takes to break him. Clyde falls over the edge with a deep, low grunt, his cum hot in your cunt as he empties himself inside you. You cum just a few second later, crying out and tensing up as you ride out the high.

It feels like an eternity before you come back to reality, but Clyde’s there to greet you when you finally do, kissing your face and catching his breath. The two of you hold each other for a long time, completely spent.

“Gonna have to wipe down the bar again,” your boyfriend finally murmurs, huffing out a laugh into your hair.

“It was worth it.”